#It's hard conveying your passion in a foreign language! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bpro-cardstories · 3 years

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Hikaru Osari SSR ーRequestー

2018 ー Power To Smile [笑顔にする力]

"Uhm, it’s really not a big deal, you know. The other day I happened to see a charity event where they raised money, but other than watching I couldn’t do anything.”

『Event: Heart Pounding! Happening VACATION (16th - 27th August 2018)』

Part 1

ーIn the waiting room.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for the recording. I will give you the materials for the next photoshoot.’

Kazuna: ‘Thanks. We’ll take a good look at them.’

Tsubasa: ‘Please do so.’

Mikado: ‘It is already next week, time sure flies fast. We need to think about what to do when we arrive.’

Momotaro: ‘Yeah, you’re right.’

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone somehow looks excited. What are you talking about?’

Kazuna: ‘It’s about the Hawaii trip this time.’

Momotaro: ‘Hikaru got the answers right in the quiz show last time, so everyone won a trip to Hawaii.’

Tsubasa: ‘That was amazing, wasn’t it. He won the first prize by solving the last question correctly.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Yeah. That kind of thing is a first, right?’

Kazuna: ‘Yes. Outside of work, we didn’t have the opportunity to go on vacation together privately. We need to thank Hikaru for it.’

Mikado: ‘Yes, I am looking forward to it. And I was talking about the trip while looking up the information on Hawaii that I gathered.’

Tsubasa: ‘I understand now.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Speaking of Hikaru, he said that he wants a new swimsuit to wear for Hawaii.’

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

Hikaru: ‘Eh? Aah, sorry! I was in a daze just now.’

Momotaro: ‘Did something happen?’

Hikaru: ‘No, it’s not that something happened…..’

Tsubasa: ‘If it is fine, would you want to speak about it?’

Hikaru: ‘Uhm, it’s really not a big deal, you know. The other day I happened to see a charity event where they raised money, but other than watching I couldn’t do anything.’

Hikaru: ‘Ever since then I’ve been thinking about what more I can do for people that has a lasting effect. It’s all I've done since that day, but nothing comes to mind.’

Kazuna: ‘I see. That’s why you’ve been absent-minded.’

Mikado: ‘Hikarun, that matter is a very important one I think, but if you think too much about it, then you become stubborn and good ideas can not enter.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘He’s right. Let your head rest a bit. The Hawaii trip is perfect for this.’

Hikaru: ‘Yep, you’re right! If I can refresh on this trip, then maybe some good thoughts pop up!’

Kazuna: ‘Speaking of which, I looked it up yesterday. It looks like there’s a big shopping mall near the beach we’ll be going to.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘If so, then you probably can buy a swimsuit there, too.’

Hikaru: ‘That sounds great! I’m so excited, there seem to be patterns that are unique to Hawaii~!’

Hikaru: ‘Alright, I’ll buy a swimsuit, swim a lot in the ocean and relax both my body and mind!’

(Something you can do yourself, huh….. I hope Hikaru-kun can get something out of this trip.)

Part 2

ーIn Hawaii.ー

Hikaru: ‘Hmm….. Which one should I take…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hikaru, did you still not decide?’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, I haven't yet! Peachan, which one is better, the blue or pink swimsuit?’

Momotaro: ‘….. The coloured one is the blue swimsuit, and the patterned one is the pink one.’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, exactly! Both are hard to discard~. I beg you, everyone! Decide for me which to go with! Majority vote, please!’

Mikado: ‘When we exclude Hikarun and Tsubasa-san, four people are left, so there is no majority vote.’

Momotaro: ‘….. I abstain from voting. I also can’t decide which one is better.’

Mikado: ‘Good, then me, leader and Tatsu-dono will be the majority vote! I go with the pink swimsuit.’

Kazuna: ‘For me it’s the blue one, I guess.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘It’s the pink one for me.’

Momotaro: ‘Two against one for the pink swimsuit.’

Hikaru: ‘Okay! Then it’s the pink one! Thanks for deciding in my stead!’ _______

Hikaru: ‘I’m so happy that I could buy a swimsuit I like~! Ah, since we’re already here, why not take a look in the mall a bit? I spotted an unusual store earlier…..’

Hikaru: ‘Ngh, wahwah!?’

Foreign Tourist: ‘Ouuh!?’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun!?’

Hikaru: ‘Ah, I have chocolate ice cream all over my clothes….. ‘

(How terrible, it was the moment when he bumped into the tourist who had ice cream with him….. )

Tsubasa: ‘Please wait a moment! I will give you something to wipe, uhm, the handkerchief…..’

Hikaru: ‘Tsubasa-chan, it’s alright! I can wash this amount off, everything’s fine!’

Tsubasa: ‘Eh, but….. ‘

Hikaru: ‘Ah, the person I bumped into also has ice cream on his clothes!’

Hikaru: ‘Well, in such a case, you can say “sorry”….. With the translation app, but you can’t say anything more difficult.’

Momotaro: ‘What is Hikaru doing?’

Mikado: ‘He is trying to tell the person who he bumped into something. Let me see….. ‘

Mikado: ‘ “If you put the clothes into hot water, then the chocolate ice cream won’t stain too much.”, he says. I see.’

Foreign Tourist: ‘Ooh! Thank you!’

Hikaru: ‘Yes, yes! No problem!’*

Kazuna: ‘A-Amazing….. It looks like a friendship sprung from the passionate handshake between Hikaru and the tourist.’

Hikaru: ‘Fuu~, I’m glad I could tell him~.’

Tsubasa: ‘Even though it was an unexpected matter, your handling of it was wonderful. Hikaru-kun, how amazing!’

Hikaru: ‘That’s only natural, if you ask me! I’m joking though ♪. Since I have little brothers, it’s natural that I know about methods to remove stains and have mastered that skill.’

Tsubasa: ‘I understand now.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘It will be crowded inside the mall, too, so why not go to the beach? Let’s come back here when it has calmed down a bit.’

Hikaru: ‘True! Alright, let’s go swimming!’

Hikaru: ‘….. Hm? Eeeh!?’

Kazuna: ‘Hikaru, what’s wrong?’

Hikaru: ‘The Japanese tourists we just passed were talking about how they couldn’t go into the ocean….. ‘

Tsubasa: ‘Eh?’

Part 3

Hikaru: ‘Haa~, playing that was super fun!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Yeah, it wasn’t the beach, but the pool was fun as well in the end.’

Goshi: ‘Who would have thought that we’d be banned from swimming due to a mass outbreak of jellyfish.’

Hikaru: ‘So true! Well, it’s a bit of a pity, but the pool was fun, so the result is alright!’

Yuta: ‘The water slide was so cool! I wanted to slide more~!’

Kento (sighs): ‘Because my hair won’t be damaged by the salty sea breeze, I agreed to go to the pool, but to think that the water slide turned my bangs into a mess…..

Yuta: ‘Kenken, it’s impossible to maintain the shape of your bangs in the water slide~.’

Goshi: ‘Geez, you really don't know when to stop even when at the pool.’

Kento: ‘Be quiet. I was thinking of simply idling at the poolside, but Yuta forced me to come to the water slide.’

Tsubasa: ‘I am glad, you all seemed to have enjoyed yourself, everyone.’

Hikaru: ‘Yep, it just happened without much thinking~!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Now that you mentioned it, Hikaru, weren’t you playing with a foreign child in the pool earlier?’

Yuta: ‘Ah, I also saw that! You both were super excited and hit it off well! That child isn’t perhaps Hikarun’s acquaintance, right?’

Hikaru: ‘Nope, not at all. We only came to know each other at that moment.’

Kento (surprised): ‘Even though you didn’t understand the language, you got along that well.’

Hikaru: ‘It’s all about the feelings here! If you can convey that it’s fun, then words aren’t needed, are they? The rest you do with body language!’

Yuta: ‘Nothing less expected of Hikarun!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Since Hikaru has a lot of younger siblings, he might just be used to it.’

Kento: ‘Even at the handshake event children often lined up for Hikaru, that’s probably because of that.’

Hikaru: ‘Hmm, I don’t really understand it myself, but that might be the reason?’

Yuta: ‘Ah, there’s a beach volleyball court over there! Let’s go check it out!’

Kento: ‘Definitely no. I’ll get sunburned.’

Goshi (sighs): ‘Not to mention, you’re still in the mood to play?’

Yuta: ‘We’re already here in Hawaii, so even if we can’t go into the ocean, it’s a waste to not fully enjoy the beach! Come on, Gochin, Kenken~!’

Goshi: ‘Uohh! Don’t push me, Ashu!’

Kenken: ‘Wait. You really want to go?’

Yuta: ‘Of course! Let’s go ♪.’

Yuta: ‘Tsubasa-chan, come with us!’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, uhm, I…..’

(Since Hawaii's schedule was hard, I rather want to take a small break…..)

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hikaru, what about you?’

Hikaru: ‘Maybe I should take a break~. I used up too much stamina in the pool. I’ll rest over there under the parasol. Tsubasa-chan, will you come with me?’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes.’

Yuta: ‘Nomecchi!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Alright. Then I’ll go with those three and tell them about it.’

Hikaru: ‘Thanks, Tatsu!’

Hikaru: ‘Okay, shall we go, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes!’

(….. Huh? Hikaru-kun seems to look fine?)

Part 4

Hikaru: ‘Fuu~, I played a bit too much.’

Tsubasa: ‘Are you fine not going to play with everyone?’

Hikaru: ‘Yep! Tsubasa-chan, you’re tired, right? I’ll also take a short rest!’

(Was Hikaru-kun maybe worried about me…..?)

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry. I made you accompany me.’

Hikaru: ‘Wrong, wrong! I really wanted to rest! Don’t worry about that.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘And you know, I became used to resting under the parasol like this~! Doesn’t it feel like we’re celebrities?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, you are right. In movies as well, you see scenes where celebrities sleep in a beach chair.’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah, that! My dream came true!’

Hikaru: ‘Say, are you enjoying Hawaii, Tsubasa-chan?’

Tsubasa: ‘Of course. It is thanks to Hikaru-kun that I am also able to enjoy Hawaii in this way. Thank you very much!’

Hikaru: ‘No way, I only won the quiz show by chance. I didn’t do anything.’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I did mean the quiz show, but it is also because of Hikaru-kun’s cheerfulness that I am enjoying this Hawaii trip.’

Hikaru: ‘Hehe, I see!’

Tsubasa: ‘Hawaii really is a wonderful place. Both the scenery and the food are superb.’

Hikaru: ‘Yep, Hawaii sure is great!’

Hikaru: ‘I was thinking that if I give my family an overseas trip someday, Hawaii might be a good choice. They’ll probably be impressed by the different scenery and food compared to Japan.’

Tsubasa: ‘That sounds lovely. You always think about your family and respect them a lot.’

Hikaru (blushes): ‘Hehe, thanks!’

Hikaru: ‘…..’

Hikaru: ‘This is about the charity event from the other day. Until now, the source of me being able to give my best as an idol was that I had to work hard as the backbone for my family. Seeing that event, I thought that I need to have a broader perspective and want to cheer up even more people.’

Hikaru: ‘Just as I thought, isn’t it delightful to see everyone smiling!’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘As an idol standing in front of people I have ways to communicate with everyone more than normal people, so it would be a waste to not use this asset! ….. That’s what I think, but how I should do it, I don’t know.’

(A method only Hikaru-kun can manage…..)

Tsubasa: ‘Uhm, how about thinking in a more simpler way?’

Hikaru: ‘A more simpler way?’

Part 5

Hikaru: ‘Think simpler….. Hmm?’

Tsubasa: ‘On this trip, you bumped into a foreign tourist and got ice cream on your clothes, but in the end you shaked hands together with a smile. It was clear that the child Hikaru-kun played with in the pool had a lot of fun.’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun was worried about me being tired and even brought me to this parasol to sit under. That made me very happy. When being with Hikaru-kun everyone smiles. I think Hikaru-kun possesses the power to make people smile.’

Hikaru: ‘I make everyone smile….. I didn’t come to think about this at all.’

Tsubasa: ‘That is fine I think. You do not need to do something for someone’s sake, it is fine if you do what you want to do little by little.’

Hikaru: ‘Do what I want to do, huh…..’

Hikaru: I see, it looks like I was thinking too much about it. I will do my best as I always did! Thanks, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I am happy I could help you.’

Hikaru: ‘Tsubasa-chan, too, if you are troubled, don’t hold back and say so!’

Hikaru: ‘If I possess the power to make people smile, then I want to make Tsubasa-chan smile the most!’

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun…..’

Hikaru: ‘Let’s do our best together from now on as well!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! I will work even harder as your A&R!’

Hikaru: ‘Yeah!’

Tsubasa: ‘When I was talking with Hikaru-kun like this, my tiredness disappeared completely.’

Hikaru: ‘Really? Then let’s join beach volleyball with the others!’

Tsubasa: ‘Sure!’

Hikaru: ‘Yay! First of all, let’s enjoy Hawaii and get in touch with the various people and things here! I want to absorb so many things on this trip and then go home!’

Hikaru: ‘Let’s go, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘Yes!’

(Hikaru-kun really is a caring and kind person…..)

END ____________________

* Hikaru actually says this in English.

#b project #b-project #hikaru osari #moons #myps #card:2018

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fy-enhypen · 4 years

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“I don’t want to define music in one word” - Heeseung

HEESEUNG was comfortable with handling a basketball. Most of the time the ball went in, just as it was supposed to. Once, when he missed and the ball bounced off the rim, HEESEUNG kept shooting over and over until it went in. At last, two points. Shooting over and over and hitting the wall until he succeeds? Well, HEESEUNG’s attitude toward the stage is the same. On I-LAND, your older brother said that he’s proud of you now, thinking back to how you used to be this average cute but a little immature kid who liked playing games with friends and didn’t like to study.

HEESEUNG: That time he was talking about, that was when I was really immature. I’m not exaggerating when I say that everything’s changed. This might be a bit off-topic, but I have this one good old friend who I would hang out with and goof around with all the time. It was all really childish, but I’m way more mature now. (laughs) But I do think I should keep growing up more than I am now.

I saw that, when you were doing the group photoshoot, the staff asked you to move to NI-KI’s side, and you asked him first if that was okay before moving.

HEESEUNG: Yes, I did say that. It happened so quickly, I’m surprised you caught it. (laughs)

You didn’t hesitate to help other contestants with their dancing on I-LAND even though you were competing against one another. SUNOO said you’re an “angel.” (laughs)

HEESEUNG: I could try and take all the credit for that, but that’s not really how it was. (laughs) I think that was possible because I-LAND had more challenges emphasizing teamwork than other survival shows. But that aside, I still wanted to help them. When I first became a Big Hit trainee, I practiced really hard for six months and became one of the better performers among the new recruits. I guess it’s probably because I had a lot of opportunities to be the leader from that time on.

Did you have much experience singing or dancing before you became a trainee?

HEESEUNG: I’m still not that good at dancing, but I was absolutely hopeless at the beginning. (laughs) I was really, really bad. It was so bad that my friends would make fun of me for not being able to do even basic moves. They’d say, “Seriously, how did you ever get casted?” But Big Hit’s training regimen is really good. (laughs and stretches arms out diagonally) This is called “arm stretching.” It’s a basic move. This is all I did for a year. And then more than a year of following the rhythm. I focused on basic, repetitive moves like that, then I took baby steps with a dance foundations class, and then with endless practice I finally got a lot better.

You can give hope to hopeless dancers. (laughs) I know that you were always very interested in singing.

HEESEUNG: I dreamed of becoming a singer since I was six, but I totally lacked confidence. Singers need to be able to sing in front of people without feeling nervous, but the most I could do until high school was sing with two or three really close friends at a karaoke. And then my dad suggested I take the entrance exam for an art high school, but I was too nervous during the test to sing anything. I was about to head home thinking I’d better study or choose a different career path when suddenly a casting agent spotted me. I was really lucky.

HEESEUNG: I was heavily influenced by YEONJUN from TOMORROW X TOGETHER when I came to Big Hit. Up until then, I had a sense of pride. I thought, well, I’m pretty good at singing, right? But after I saw YEONJUN, I realized I was totally fooling myself. (laughs) I felt like YEONJUN is the kid who gets perfect in every subject and I’m the one who gets, about 80 in one class and goes around bragging about it. So I thought there’s no room for feeling “not confident or some other nonsense like that” (laughs) I need to really up my game if I want to be a singer. From then on, I tried to really show off everything I’ve got on stage, which is different from how I used to be.

In the “October 2020 by ENHYPEN” video, you set a goal to practice vocals for one and a half to two hours every day. Even with your busy schedule, you’ve been close to 70~80% successful with that goal.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) It’s easy to achieve your goals when it’s something you like to do. I usually put my all into things I like, but I don’t have much motivation to do things I’m not into. I think that’s a strength and also a weakness. To use studying as an example: I lost interest in studying when I was in middle school, so I didn’t put much effort into most subjects, but I liked English because I liked to listen to pop songs. There was a foreign language high school near me that accepted students only based on their English grades and mine were good enough to get in.

All your practice really shows on your debut album, BORDER: DAY ONE. I was impressed by how you expressed each song differently.

HEESEUNG: The lead single, “Given-Taken,” is about facing a new world, and ENHYPEN just debuted as a team, so I wanted to convey a passionate start of a race. You could say it’s mellow since it opens with a harp, but I used all my energy to emphasize the tone. In “Let Me In (20 CUBE),” there’s the lyrics: “Can you open your window / Been looking everywhere for my Nemo.” It would sound kind of weird if I sang, “Open up!” forcefully like that.(laughs) So I recorded my vocals in a way that best conveys the meaning and doesn’t break the mood.

It looks like you have specific ideas about the performances and your music. On I-LAND you recorded the “-note” video diary, and you reflected on various aspects of your performance. It was very impressive the way you could go back and analyze it like that.

HEESEUNG: If you debut, you become a professional. I don’t look like a pro in my performances yet, but I think you become more professional by making deliberate efforts. I think I need to be able to express myself inside and out, so I’m trying to do all different kinds of training.

You mentioned several times that you want to write your own songs this year. Have you written any?

HEESEUNG: When I was in sixth grade, I took a music composition class using a sequencer program my dad recommended, called Cakewalk. I started to write songs again after I became a trainee. There’s a song I worked on until I got into I-LAND, and also some songs I wrote and recorded the lyrics over some existing beats. But we’ve been so busy preparing for the debut. I really regret that I haven’t been able to show off my work. Anyway, I’m going to keep trying to write songs for ENGENE whenever I get time. I just hope they’ll be patient with me.

You said “Merry and the Witch’s Flower” by Yerin Baek is your favorite song. What kind of songs do you usually listen to?

HEESEUNG: As far as genre goes, I’m really into alternative R&B. I also like songs that are dreamy and chill. I listened to a lot of songs by Yerin Baek, Anderson Paak and Eric Bellinger lately. I usually listen to the newest releases to see what people like these days, but I also listen to old hits by 2Pac and the Notorious B.I.G.

In BE:LIFT LAB’s “Training Camp,” you said your personal motivation is the high goals you set for yourself.

HEESEUNG: If I were to say that I want to be at 100, I’m currently at a 30 or 40. I’m absolutely serious. I think I need to try a lot harder if I’m going to reach my full potential. I want to be more than just a set of skills, or an amazing person; I want to make sure I don’t lose myself. The more time you spend on your work, the less time there is to invest in yourself. And if your work takes over your identity, I think you might even find it easy to lose your own sense of self. I want to be the kind of person who can grow while staying devoted to my work.

It reminds me of your performance of “Chamber 5.” Even though I-LAND is a survival program and you could have chosen a song that would have been more advantageous to you, you took on a new challenge solely for self-improvement.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) I was in way over my head. I seriously never tried even a single playful song like “Chamber 5” before in my life. But, obviously, you can’t go back to the past. Anyway, that was my choice. I was preparing for a job where you have to be ready to handle all different kinds of concepts. I took that as a fact and just practiced. And also, I had the magnificent teacher, Mr. SUNOO, right there with me. (laughs) So it was good in the end.

Maybe it’s thanks to that experience that the way you turn around and wink in the “Let Me In (20 CUBE)” performance suits you so well.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) That kind of stuff just comes to me naturally now—basically showing people how charming I am. Was it a bit awkward? (laughs) Songs like “10 Months” are in-your-face cutesy. It was hard at first, but after thinking about my own style the answer came to me. I look mature compared to the other members, so I figured that was the solution to the problem of how to express my charm. Now I am Lee HEESEUNG, a man of endless allure. (laughs)

Before a leader was selected for ENHYPEN, your name kept coming up in the polls under headings like, “the first person you’ll turn to when you’re having a hard time,” or, “the person who won’t hesitate to take difficult tasks for others.”

HEESEUNG: I’m good at listening to other people’s problems. That sounded like bragging. (laughs) If I see someone struggling with something I can fix or help them with, it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch. I don’t go around thinking I always need to help with everything, but I unconsciously act that way.

You’re the oldest member of the group. I can tell the other members trust you, and rely on you. As their oldest teammate, how do you want to be there for them?

HEESEUNG: I hope they don’t think of me as being more important than them just because I’m the oldest. In middle school, high school, clubs, and places like that, I realized that opening up to someone your senior isn’t always easy. So when we became a team, I thought I should be a cute, approachable guy (laughs) and create an atmosphere where they can speak openly with me. Everybody feels comfortable talking to that kind of person.

It seems like you already are. You all looked really close when the others were touching your head without hesitation on V LIVE and saying it looks like the full moon. (laughs)

HEESEUNG: (laughs) Yes, I’m … not thrilled that happened. (laughs) Everyone in the group has their own strong, unique personality, but still, we all try to trust and respect one another, and we set clear boundaries. And as we spend more time together, we share more personal stories, which helps us grow closer.

In “-note,” you thank the people around you and judge your own practice progress objectively while finding the positive aspects. I was impressed.

HEESEUNG: Even though they didn’t show it on the show much, I felt tremendous pressure being in a leadership position. There was so much to deal with. A lot of that was hard, of course, but I believe that people become the things they say they are, so I chose to be thankful and stay positive. If I say it like I believe it, my thinking will change and then I can overcome any difficulty. For artists, fans are important, skills are important, and talent is important, if you want to draw people in. Everything is important, really. I think it’s most important to have a healthy mind if you want to really nail all those things.

What does music mean to you?

HEESEUNG: That’s the hardest question. (laughs) I don’t want to define music in one word. I don’t think there should be just one correct answer to what music is. Because there’s no answer, all kinds of different music gets made, and many different people can be on stage. As soon as there is an answer, music will lose its charm.

#201227 #enhypen #heeseung #t: weverse #t: interview

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contreparry · 4 years

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Fenders, flowers of romance, performance AU for the DWC?

Sure thing! Here’s some pre-ish Fenders performance AU, where Fenris plays guitar at an open mic and Anders sighs over him (in his own fashion) for @dadrunkwriting!

“He’s just so fucking- look at him!” Anders exclaimed, gesturing out at the little stage set-up on the bar’s patio. It’s just Fenris up there with his beat-up acoustic and the microphone under that soft yellow light. He looks like he’s bathed in gold. If he didn’t know Fenris the way he knew him, Anders would have fallen in love with those soulful green eyes and smooth, crooning voice singing away in a foreign tongue. But Anders knew Fenris well, and falling in love with the man is the last thing he should do.

It would ruin the convenient fuck-buddy system they’ve got going between them.

“Man’s got a gift, what can I tell you, Blondie?” Varric said easily, all broad smiles and sly winks. He was always winking and smiling, nudging Anders with a low elbow to the hip and a cutting observation that, while never cruel, was too observant for Anders’ taste. Varric always came in with a laugh and a comment: huh, you never miss one of Fenris’ gigs, do you, Anders? Sweet of you to bring him his water bottle, Anders. Say, you know this one’s an original of Fenris’, don’t you? All about honey eyes and a knife tongue, sounds familiar, don’t you think?

“He likes music as a hobby, Varric,” Anders muttered. “Stop trying to sign him for a record label, you know he likes working as a translator.” Fenris loved translations, taking words and chipping at them, fleshing them out, finding the spirit of the author’s message and conveying it in another language. It was funny to think of Fenris- tattooed, hard ass Fenris who rarely had a flowery compliment to spare- waxing poetically over the beauty of words, but it happened. It happened in the darkness of Anders’ bedroom, sweat cooling on their skin as they lay side by side on his bed, cotton sheets tangled in their legs. Anders knew Fenris well, well enough to know that he didn’t want to make all of his passions work. Some things, he once said, were best left for himself.

Anders privately agreed, but argued with him out of principle until the verbal fight turned to teasing and he and Fenris went at it again and again until they fell asleep tangled together, still trying to prove the other one wrong.

“Nice flowers,” Varric commented, abruptly switching tactics to catch Anders off-rhythm. He gestured towards the spear-like cluster of red flowers Anders lay down on the scratched surface of the wooden table. Anders scowled, tempted to snatch the flowers off the table and hide them like he had been caught doing... what, exactly? Being a fool? Well, too bad, he was almost always a fool. No surprises there.

“He likes flowers,” Anders said. “A man can get his roommate flowers.” A man could get a lot of things for his roommate- chicken soup when sick, the pen with the good tip, thanks, the dictionary in the living room, a heated kiss when the other needed to stop thinking, if just for a moment-

“Ah, he’s wrapping up the set,” Varric observed, and he slipped off the stool and grinned up at Anders. “I’m getting another beer. You?”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” Anders replied, reaching into his bag to grab his water bottle. He reached in again and grabbed Fenris’, setting the blue metal thermos next to his teal one. Varric glanced at the bottles, then looked back at Anders.

“Blondie.”

“What? There’s room to carry both! It’s not like he can hide the damn thermos in his fucking pants,” Anders said heatedly as Fenris approached them, guitar in his case and jacket slung over his shoulder. Varric rolled his eyes before walking back towards the bar. Thank the Maker it was Corff at the tap and not Isabela. Anders could handle one vulture looking for gossip, but two?

“You know exactly what I’m hiding in my fucking pants, Anders,” Fenris said when he was close.

“Hey, asshole,” Anders said dryly. “You left your water bottle at home.”

“Thank you for bringing it,” Fenris replied, already untwisting the cap to take a drink. He analyzed Anders through the fall of his pale hair, green eyes too observant, too knowing.

“You brought flowers,” Fenris observed, and he traced one delicate red flower with a fingertip.

“Saw them on the way,” Anders said. “Thought of you.” On the way meant walking two streets out of his way to pick up a small bouquet for their kitchen table- flowers to brighten up the place, flowers to brighten Fenris’ face. And it would, Anders thought smugly as Fenris’ eyes lit up, as he continued to run his finger down the flower stalks and trace the blossoms. Anders knew Fenris well, and even though he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with the man... well.

Anders was never good at doing what he should.

#da drunk writing circle #my writing #I have a lot of thoughts about this one- I think it would be tied to the roommate fill I wrote earlier #Anders got Fenris a bouquet of red gladioli which represent passionate love #I think #And Fenris has been into Anders for ages and is patiently waiting for Anders to realize that they're definitely more than fuck buddies #there's a lot of I AM SINGING A LOVE SONG I WROTE FOR YOU DUMBASS moments here

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

The Conference (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.9k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: Rebecca reminisces about the night she finally pushed Ethan away.

Author’s Note: ngl the last part with the ryan arc was 100% self indulgent. it was also the first thing i wrote and built the series around. have ya ever had a friend/lover/someone you never got a proper goodbye with and carried with you everything you wish you’d said? yeah. that’s what that was. it also is the perfect contrast to mc x ethan’s relationship.

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamwrites @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @imactuallytheceoofthecompany @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog

________________________________________

I finally walked into the foreign and dimly lit tavern after wasting the beginning hours of my day off scrolling through Bumble, scouring the app for a good distraction. Eventually I found one - a legal assistant named Cameron. He was cute and his choice of profession gave me the feeling he could carry an intelligent conversation with minimal sexual advances. His tone was friendly enough and a little awkward at times but harmless. We messaged back and forth for like an hour and a half before agreeing to a date across town.

I made sure to put on my best face, watching youtube tutorials for the perfect date night eye to accompany my black cap sleeved maxi dress - you know that one with the high slit. A little bit of sultry but not enough to give him the assumption he could take me home.

I’d never been to The Happenstance tavern before. Hell, I barely had any time to explore parts of the city that weren’t directly surrounding Edenbrook. I was pumped with adrenaline for my first actual date in god knows how long. Thus for once in my life I was fifteen minutes early and decided to sit at the bar to calm my nerves.

I’m meeting a stranger I’ve had half a conversation with an hour ago! In a part of the city I’ve never been to! What am I doing!?

I didn’t even have a chance to flag down the bartender before my name was called over my shoulder.

“Rebecca,” my name fell expertly off his lips and I turned towards the velvety voice fully thinking my date was nervous enough to arrive early too.

There he was, only a footfall away. My eyes quickly and involuntarily trailed over him. His slate gray slimming slacks elongating his legs and outlining the curvature of his manhood, a navy blue polo tucked in with the two top buttons undone and form fitting to hide the taut muscles underneath but accentuating the uncertain look in his eyes.

The hair stood at the back of my neck and I swear goosebumps coated my skin.

Nope. No. Nope!

Immediately I turned right back around on my stool.

Not happening!

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking the empty seat and motioning to the bartender for two more of whatever he had earlier.

I had been ignoring Ethan, as best I could given our close workplace dynamic. We’d only talk about patients and pertinent information to the caseload. No hello’s, how are yous or see you tomorrows. Nope. Those little accolades were reserved for friends - someone you actually give a damn about.

It had been nearly twelve weeks since we spent that last night of heated passion in my apartment; 12 weeks since I thought it was the start of something new, the start of us. As surely as he promised me we would make a future work, he took it all right back. Running all the way to the fucking Amazon. But I forgave him the moment he came back and our eyes locked in the beer garden of Donohue’s. I trusted him above all else - his reason for leaving was probably justified. Oh how wrong I was. I kissed him and he - he did nothing. He reset us without my knowledge. He made the executive decision for my heart.

That was the final straw.

He couldn’t keep toying with me and my emotions. No. No more push and pull. That’s not a lover that’s… that’s... I’m not quite sure what that was but it certainly isn’t the actions of a respected partner. He knew where I stood and I needed to take my own stand - to continue living my life as if I never experienced him.

I chose to push him away.

To move on from chasing the notion of wholly and completely loving The Ethan Ramsey. Finally.

“If you must know, I have a date,” I said with the most nonchalant malice I could muster.

There was a thick and uncomfortable silence taking up the small foot of space between our seats.

I was staring dead ahead at the bottles meticulously placed behind the bar but out the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s eyes fell from me to the two tumblers now sitting in front of us.

I reached out for my drink, letting the cold glass soothe my boiling blood. “At least someone wants to date me.” I muttered it mostly to myself, but secretly hoping the words would hit him where it hurts the most.

Take the hint and leave, Ethan.

His voice was even and the words melted off his tongue like butter, “It has nothing to do with want, you know that.” It was a truth he came to know.

My eyes now fixated on the decorative mirror behind the bar as I took a drag of the scotch, hoping to take a peek at how my words affected him. With a thick roll of my eyes I shrugged, “Want, can’t, what’s the difference?”

“The difference is your professional development and our jobs,” his voice was straight as he repeated his same rationale over and over again. “Once you’re an attending -”

That’s a new additive. What -?

The last words took me by surprise. He’d never added them into the mix of rejections before - he never added a glimmer of hope into the mix before…

Don’t let him suck you back in, Bec.

I shook my head dismissively to myself. “You’ll find other excuses to push me away.” I brought the liquid to my lips as I took a moment to let myself turn enough to see his full body language. He was at the edge of his seat, body angled towards me, one arm leaning on the bar and the other tightly gripping his thigh, his scotch untouched and forgotten. An onlooker would assume he was a casual man but to me he looked distraught; the careful ridges in his daily features had fallen.

Good.

My glass hovered just above my lips and I could feel the heat from Ethan’s gaze boring into my cheek. With a little bit of courage and a sly smirk I added, “Either way you’ve made your choice and I'm moving on, don’t worry.”

I checked the time on my phone, downed the rest of the scotch in my glass and slipped off the stool gathering my things into my bag, preparing to head to the back where I agreed to meet Cameron at a reserved table.

My feet fled all of two steps before there was pressure on my forearm grounding me back towards the bar. I whipped around to finally see him face to face, my heels bringing me to his level.

We were close. Much too close. In the simplest of movements his body could be flush against mine.

Stop, Rebecca, don't go there. Don’t think about it - don’t think about his lips or…

I was acutely aware of his firm yet gentle hold. His shoulders once stiff and rigid fell with vulnerability. His soft and supple lips were parted and begging to be bitten.

Pull yourself together, woman!

“Rookie,” his grip on the back of my arm tightened, lighting every nerve in my body on fire. “Rebecca,” he breathed, “Please.” Ethan’s stormy blue eyes were pleading, conveying all he wished he had the strength to say.

I tried to coax it out of him, “Say it.”

“I -”

Even now. Even with me visibly moving to put us in the past like he instructed and the shattered heart he must have had, he doesn’t have the balls to tell me.

If he can’t say it he can’t have me.

“Say it and I’ll stop,” I taunted. “I’ll squash this right now.”

Our eyes locked in showdown. Enraged brown overtaking conflicted icy blue. Standing my ground with a tightened jaw I internally gave him just three seconds before I pulled away once and for all.

Three...

His grip on my arm loosened.

Two...

His eyes squeezed closed and he shook his head.

O-

I was being pulled towards the exit by my hand.

“Lets go,” Ethan said gruffly as he laced out fingers together in a tight hold.

My heart fluttered, Good enough.

I wish I was stronger. God, do I wish I was strong enough to pull away from the black hole that is Ethan Ramsey but I couldn’t. His gravitational pull was too strong. I was and will forever be sucked in. I had a probably perfectly nice boy waiting for me in the other room with a promise of mutual affection. And what did I do?

I got into Ethan’s car.

On the drive we sat in silence, Ethan’s hand never freeing mine except to start the car. The purple and pink evening Boston sky passed by the window. I smiled at the people out the window who were still going about their day and, for the first time in months, I was content. Content with my feelings that never seemed to fade away no matter how hard I tried. Content that he feels the same way. Content that this is an actionable promise that we can be something.

I noticed Edenbrook pass in the distance. My eyebrows furrowed as I realized we were getting further from his apartment complex. The other all-too-familiar street now coming into view.

“Ethan, what the fuck. You’re taking me home?”

He said nothing.

“I thought…” I trailed off, mentally chastising myself for thinking he’d actually give in and let ourselves be happy. I huffed, “So I can’t have fun and I can’t have you. That seems fair…” I tried to free my hand but he held onto me tighter.

A few moments of time passed in the dead silence of his car. Ethan was focused on the road ahead and I was trapped in limbo. Again.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I bit, clearly needing an explanation for this round of betrayal.

He opened his mouth slightly but nothing came out. My unencumbered rage started bubbling over like an active volcano.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!

“Let me out, Ethan.” I said sternly and yanked my hand out of his. His hand now left palm up on the center console as he kept driving.

And he wasn’t slowing down.

I rose my voice through gritted teeth, “Let me out of the fucking car right now.”

Still the side streets passed behind us at a steady pace. Surely he was ignoring me.

My red hot anger reached my ears when I yelled, “Doctor! Ramsey!”

Ethan jumped bringing both hands securely on the steering wheel. Within thirty seconds he pulled the car over. Panic set in and I needed to use all my strength to control my breathing.

Not again. He’s not doing this to me again.

As soon as the car stopped at the curb I unbuckled my seat-belt.

Still staring out the windshield and white knuckles gripping the wheel he begged, “Please let me get you home safely.”

I scoffed, “I can take care of myself.”

What the fuck does he want from me?

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, “I know.”

I looked over at him completely dumbfounded. If we weren’t going to be anything he should just let me move the hell on.

“I’m not your responsibility,” I said honestly through my rage as I moved to get out of the car. “I know deep down you want to help but you’re not. You’re making things worse.” I looked over at him. His fingers left his nose and he started to sit up straighter at my words. “You - You…”

I wanted to tell him he’s broken my heart over and over again. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him and that if he just promised me we’d give us a proper try I’d forgive him. But I didn’t, because saying those words out loud wouldn’t change a thing. Everything with Ethan was inevitably complicated.

He looked over at me for the first time since the tavern. The whites of his eyes were starting to go red and my chest began to ache at the sight. He shakily asked, “I… what?”

Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Furiously I pulled the door handle and jumped out of the car as best as my dress would allow. The air in the car was suffocating.

Behind me I heard the car shut off and a loud slam of the door. There were two beeps alerting me that Ethan did indeed leave his car in the no parking zone. Heavy footfalls caught up to me on the sidewalk accompanied by the uneven huffs of breath from the brisk jog.

“Let me walk with you. Please.”

We were only a 10 minutes walk away from my place. As mad as I was at Ethan for the false pretenses, I was angrier at myself for falling for it. For letting him have me unconditionally. The thought of going through this same old cycle with him again and again made me nauseous.

I can’t do this anymore.

“Stop,” we both ceased our movements at my definitive tone. Turning to Ethan I saw the storm brewing within. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn. “You’re not listening to me.”

His eyes widened like that of a scolded child.

My next words were frank and to the point, “I cannot do this anymore. You cannot turn up and pretend you care when it’s convenient for you.”

“I do -”

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re self-serving,” the words fell quickly off my expert lips. “Choose me or lose me, Ramsey. You don’t get both.”

I paused my rant for a brief second expecting the rebuttal that never came.

“I’m confused enough as it is,” I continued. “Jus - Just get back in your car and find me when you figure your shit out.” I bit my lip before harshly saying, “I’ll be fine without you.”

There on the narrow street on a Tuesday evening in Boston my chest tightened as I took one final look at the man I once trusted above all else. His hair windswept, cheeks flush, shoulders slumped in defeat and...

His hand twitched at his side beginning to reach out for mine. But I was quicker on my heels, turning around and storming off.

The last thing I heard as I sauntered off with a heavy heart was the unlocking of a car.

“Hey, I thought you had a date tonight?” Sienna asked from the kitchen when she saw me cross the threshold of our apartment.

“It didn’t happen,” I said flatly.

“Oh no!” My dearest friend started moving around the kitchen, pulling out all the comfort food we had on tap - a pint of ice cream, cookies she had made earlier that evening, a bag of popcorn - all because she thought I was stood up.

“I…” Fuck, how do I tell her? “didn’t make it.”

Sienna stopped in her tracks and her light brown eyes looked up in confusion, “Huh?”

I shouldn’t feel guilty but I do. Sienna’s the only person who would understand, she did catch him sneaking out of my room that last morning. She’s also the only person whose opinion matters most to me. My stomach tied in knots as I sighed, “Ethan…”

“What!” she practically shouted. Luckily the others were in their rooms for the night otherwise it would have been a very awkward conversation between us. Having to tell Aurora about Ethan is another certain kind of hell I’d rather not deal with any time soon.

“He was at the bar,” I began to explain in complete exasperation. “Of course he was at the bar, of all the bars in Boston he had to choose this one tonight.” I threw my hands in the air for dramatic effect. The irony isn’t lost on me; I agreed to The Happenstance because I knew I wouldn’t run into anyone I know and yet the one person I absolutely never would have wanted to see was already there. “He stopped me before I could meet the guy.”

There was a hopeful gleam in Sienna’s eyes, “And?”

“And he had the audacity to drive me home.” I made a ‘here I am’ motion with my arms.

“That’s it?” she pouted, obviously wanting this story to have a happy ending.

I leaned my arms on the counter and rested my head in my hands, trying to rub the evening out of my eyes and the weight of what I’d said finally sinking in.

“I told him to leave me alone until he got his shit straight. I’m done with him,” my voice cracked at the end and I hoped Sienna didn’t hear it.

If she did, she didn’t let on because her next question was, “Then… why don’t you call that guy and tell him something came up at the hospital?”

Why wasn’t I going to call Cameron? Well for starters I was embarrassed for standing him up - no fake medical emergency could blow that over. I also never wanted to set foot in another bar again - Ethan can set claim to every bar in the state for all I care. I don’t want to see him outside of work ever again.

If you don’t want anything to do with him why do you feel so guilty?

With a weighted sigh I said, “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

And that’s the story of how I pushed the man I loved away.

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A/N: becca is literally the most unreliable narrator, she’s so problematic 😔 also sorry for this chapter, it’s not the best thing i’ve written :/ fun fact: this scene started out as a one shot called ‘good enough’

comment/reblog bc i need the validation

#had mc stand up my actual husband #soz lover #lol #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #choices fanfic #choices oph2 #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #oph #oph ff #ff

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otonymous · 5 years

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Served (MLQC Victor - NSFW) - Chapter 5 (End): Dinner Is Served

Description: Dinner is served. 😉 Come and get it! Warnings: NSFW/18+: explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised. Very mild food kink. Word Count: 2146 words (~11 mins of AT LAST…SMUT!) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: The final chapter of Served and the “Big Bang,” as promised 😂A giant thanks from me to everyone who stuck with the story, for every single read, like, comment and reblog! - XOXO

Jump to previous chapters: Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

Click. Click.

The sound echoes in the empty space, dark save for the light streaming in through the windows from a single streetlamp outside Souvenir’s storefront. And if you were really quiet, you could hear the proprietor swearing under his breath.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

Click. Click. Victor flipped the light switch again, but to no avail. Tables and chairs continued to cast black shadows that merged with dim corners. You step closer to Victor’s tall, broad frame.

“Perhaps a fuse blew? The streetlamp outside is still on,” you offer, trying to be helpful when you sense his expression growing surlier by the second.

“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll check.”

“Victor, wait! I…I’ll come with you.”

Hurrying forward in your new heels, you stopped short of grabbing onto his sleeve. Senses heightened in the dark, you catch Victor’s breath hitching. And when long fingers reach down to thread through yours and squeeze reassuringly, you are thankful for his surprising tact in not pointing out a grown woman’s irrational fear of the dark.

“Watch your step.” The command in the bass of his voice is familiar in an unusual situation. You never thought you’d see the day when you found Victor’s bossiness comforting.

Hand in hand, you gingerly make your way to the kitchen, the path lit only by Victor’s cellphone. And when he lets go to examine the fuse box, you wonder if you imagined the reluctance in his grip as he pulled away. Hand clenching into a fist, you try to preserve the sensation of his palm against yours for a while longer.

“Still not working?”

Victor sighs. “No.”

“We can always go elsewhere to eat, Victor. It doesn’t make sense for you to be cooking in the first place when this meal is meant to make up for my botched apology dinner.”

“No. I won’t stand for any interruptions this time.” The vehemence of his reaction makes your eyes widen. Voice softening, Victor continues, “Help me look for candles.”

“Shouldn’t you know where they’re kept? You own this place,” you ask, sweeping the beam of your smartphone’s flashlight over murky shapes in cupboards and drawers.

“Should I also know the contents of every storage closet in LFG Tower? I own that too.”

“Don’t get cheeky, Mr. Li.”

“That line should be reserved for you.” Then, after a beat of silence, “Mr. Mills stocks the restaurant and does most of the prep work. And I told you not to call me Mr. Li.”

Chuckling inwardly at how easy it was to rile this man up, you finally notice a few candles at the back of a shelf. Tiptoeing in your stilettos and extending your arm, your fingertips dance towards them to come up an inch short.

Then suddenly, a bloom of warmth on bare skin: Victor’s hand is on your lower back, exposed in the dress he had chosen for you with desire in his eyes.

The man presses closer behind you, one long arm reaching overhead for the candle while the other snaked around your waist. There, in the darkness, his proximity silences every thought but one:

How wonderful the hard lines of his body would feel melded against the curves of yours.

Lingering a beat longer than propriety would’ve dictated, Victor’s breath is warm and comforting at the crown of your head. When he finally pulls away, the featherlight drag of his fingertips across the skin of your back sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine…and blood rushing to his rapidly hardening cock.

For it had taken the stoic CEO every shred of self-control to remain composed when he first laid eyes on you that evening — perfection incarnate in an updo and that red dress, smiling to see him roll up in his Bugatti. And when he noticed the tendrils that fell loose at the nape of your neck, the sudden weakness in his knees made him grateful to have already been seated.

Sharp and short-lived, the smell of sulphur assails your nose when Victor strikes a match, light throwing amplified shadows that danced across the walls as the wick of a pillar candle caught flame. When you lift your gaze to see his handsome face framed by a golden glow — the violet-indigo of twin irises intense as he held your gaze across the wavering light — you forget how to breathe.

So…slowly pressing his lips to yours…Victor does it for you.

Satin flesh growing more and more passionate as it slid against yours, Victor’s attempt to convey the sincerity of his intent leaves you sighing into his kiss. And as his tongue traces the seam of your lips before slipping in to explore that smart mouth, one large hand finds itself in your hair and the other on your chin — tilting to deepen the kiss.

“I’m famished.”

Deep voice husky as he whispers in between planting kisses at the corners of your lips, you are on the verge of protesting about how Victor could even be thinking about food at a time like this when he clarifies, “I’ve hungered for you for so long.”

The neediness in his voice is surprising. And incredibly arousing.

Pulling back, you study his face: pupils wide and pink dusting the sharp angles of his cheekbones — the heady mixture of desire and vulnerability in those features seeping into your consciousness to transform into a yearning so basic and strong. One that only Victor could satisfy.

Perhaps it was the absurdity of the situation you found yourselves in, dressed to the nines in the kitchen of an empty restaurant. Or maybe something whispered in dark corners of the dimly lit space to goad you on. Because somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought of crossing the point of no return excited you, made you brave…bold enough to take what you wanted.

And you wanted him.

So you place your hands on his chest to palpate the pounding beneath firm muscle, the heat of his body permeating the black dress shirt that did little to conceal his physique: hard masculinity beckoning to your fingers to run down that perfect torso until they traced the V-shaped angles at his hips, leading towards the buckle of his belt.

Then, looking up at Victor’s flushed face, you ask, “Help me out of this dress?”

Gripping the ledge of the stainless steel prep table, you sigh as Victor presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, nimble fingers unhooking the clasp just below with ease.

And when silk starts to slip from skin, you look over one shoulder to throw a coy glance at the man before bending to slide the dress the rest of the way down — the lascivious sight earning you a barely suppressed moan from Victor’s lips.

“Leave those on.”

He stops you in the middle of reaching for the suspenders on your garter belt, eyes roaming approvingly over the sight of you naked save for the stockings and stilettos he himself had hand-picked…and the thin strip of black lace that teased from between your legs.

“Perfect.”

Mesmerized by long fingers undoing button after button, you barely register Victor’s comment as you watch, frozen, as his shirt falls from broad shoulders. And when his muscular arms finally wrap you in their embrace, the touch of his bare skin on yours propels the blood through your veins to animate you once more — bending to the will of his hand burying in your hair, strands tumbling loose around that grip as he drew you in for another kiss.

On the lips.

Notch of your neck.

The sensitive tip of each breast.

Breath trailing hot as his lips kissed lower and lower beneath your navel.

“Hmm, Victor!”

Voice coming out in a coquettish whine so foreign to your ears, embarrassment is the last thing on your mind as you run your fingers through Victor’s thick, black hair; your sole concern focused on encouraging the man kneeling between your legs, his hands securing you against the tremble in your knees as he tasted you through the lace of your underwear.

“Delicious,” Victor murmurs, and with each lick, your inhibitions shed layer by layer until you thought nothing of reaching up to caress your breasts, hand squeezing and fingers pinching as Victor’s name tumbled from your lips over and over again, drawing his attention to a sight that finally pushed him over the edge.

Lips shiny with his saliva and your arousal fell on yours aggressively as Victor rose and gripped the supple flesh of your ass, easily lifting you onto the satin lining of his overcoat, haphazardly thrown over the prep table.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, stockinged legs spread wide at the ledge and the heels of your stilettos knocking periodically against the side of the table as you watch Victor step out of his dress pants and underwear, wrapping one hand around a cock whose sheer size had you swallowing hard.

And when he sees you bite your lip, hair disheveled and lipstick smeared, one hand reaching down invitingly to hook your panties aside and reveal pink flesh that gleamed slick in candlelight — Victor is pulled completely, irrevocably, into your spell.

“Je t’aime,” Victor whispers in your ear before kissing you once again, greedily swallowing each of your moans as he slowly enters you, the wet heat of your pussy testing the limits of his control.

Stopping now and then, he admires the exertion and ecstasy written on your face as your body worked to accommodate him, muscles clenching and relaxing around his hard cock before you gasp to feel him finally buried to the hilt, your back arching at the sensation and nails digging into his shoulders.

Vaguely aware of the way Victor’s vigorous movements made the candle flicker at the side of the table, you found that you could care less if the room were to be doused in darkness again. Because every time you tried to open your eyes, the lids grew heavy with pleasure to hear his deep voice moan with almost animalistic satisfaction, the sound so erotic in conjunction with the wet echo of skin slapping against skin.

Heart already racing a million miles a minute, you almost expire when Victor unwraps your legs from around his waist to prop them against his shoulders instead, hot tongue licking along the length of your stockinged calves as he presses lower, deepening the angle at which he fucked you relentlessly.

And when the hard plane of his groin rubs against your clit at just the right pressure and frequency, the convulsions that overwhelm your body draws Victor’s pleasure from his, liquid heat mixing with yours as you savour the weight of Victor’s head resting on your chest, his hair damp with exertion.

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“Are you sure you’re not hungry, Victor? I’m starving!”

Victor smiles at the sight of you searching through the fridge in Souvenir’s kitchen, trying to salvage whatever food you could…his unbuttoned dress shirt revealing more of that perfect bottom in an enticing game of peekaboo every time you bent over to examine the contents of the crispers.

And still you had on those stockings and stilettos. Great investments, really. The CEO gives himself a mental pat on the back.

“YES! There’s pudding! Although the bowls aren’t nearly as interesting this time around,” you prod Victor as you approach him, tapping a spoon mischievously against your lips, curved up in a smile as you eyed him pulling up his boxer briefs.

“Hmm. I suppose you did work off enough calories tonight to merit dessert.”

“You know, you really are much more handsome when you keep your mouth shut.” Rolling your eyes, you ignore the furrow in his brows as you lift a spoonful of pudding to your lips, thinking you were so cool with your retort until you realize that some had dripped onto your chest.

But you weren’t the only one to notice; Victor already had his gaze fixed on your bared breasts as he approached, bending to lick the pudding off in one slow, sensual motion before saying,

“Actually, I think second helpings are in order.”

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Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice smut #love and producer #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mr love queens choice #mlqc smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #fanfiction #smut #my writing #elex #served

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transtechservice · 3 years

Text

The Best German Translation Agency

From the 23 major languages spoken in the world, Germany is an essential language, which runs in the global market. Thus it goes without saying that German translation is very much in demand. We can find many English to German and German to English dictionary, which is not very time efficient. Even though many use translation memory software for a leisurely getaway, many translating agencies work to feed into that demand.

Nowadays, it’s common to deal with different foreign languages to work in a globalized environment. You can find many German Expert translation agencies worldwide and get your content translated in an instant. You need to choose to work with an agency in the long term which could provide you with high-quality services and could also promptly operate your deals for you with which you are having difficulties because of the language differences. Here are some traits that an excellent translation agency must have in their facilities for you to choose them.

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2. Accuracy

You certainly would not want to present your case wrongfully just because of your translation inaccuracy. If you are to start a business dealing with Germany or you are going to publish a book translated in Germany, you need to work on the legal documents regarding such deals. Your translator must present the conditions accurately for the details to review correctly.

If the machine translator of your language representation lacks thorough knowledge of the language, there might be a possibility for you to misunderstood. To avoid such mishaps, you should always choose an experienced service who has a good command of the language and speak fluent German, which can guarantee you absolute accuracy.

3. Cost-efficient

Looking for the cheapest agency means it might not guarantee you the accurate service you are looking for. Getting the translation service from an experienced agency means they might demand a price that might be higher than your expectation. They might be having a good track record of inaccurate service providing, but you can always negotiate the price with them as per your requirement and the quality of service you want. It is still safe to go with reasonable accuracy since you do not wish to get any misconception of your statement.

4. Eloquence

The translator you’re getting services from needs to be as eloquent as they’re fluent in German. The translator should be passionate enough in writing and reading the language to persuade the audience of your work to get more popularity and benefit. It will help you grow your business or get your literature piece to make it more native according to people’s interests.

Before you finalize your deal with the agency, you should meet the translator first hand and interview them about their work before and examine their fluency. If you are working on a book to translate in Germany, then review the previous books your assigned translator must have worked on before to get knowledge about their skills.

5. Promptitude

It is a requirement that the translator should be prompt enough to deliver the service accordingly. The translator should understand native German quickly and grasp your subject meaning fast; it should be your best option. If you’re providing a literary piece, set a deadline for the translator to finish the work.

Thus you know they are efficient enough to get your job done. Work with an agency that is flexible enough to abide by deadlines and also cut down charges as a penalty for any delay in service. But if you have not set a time for your project, you might ask for them to deliver small portions of the work every few days, as you know they’re doing your job as promised.

6. Language Services

This is one of the most important things for the agency to provide multiple-language services since not only English to German and German to English, but also many linguistic clients would get the translation service.

If the translator expert is not multilingual, it might get hard for the translator and client to understand the demand. Suppose you want to enter a new market with a different language, but your agency doesn’t provide that language service to translate in Germany, it might be a hassle for you to find new services.

Always be aware of fraudulence. Many agencies advertise with good, cost-efficient plans and fake ratings. They might loot money from you and provide you with low quality of translation services by taking advantage of your naivety. Do not get lured by such just to get disappointed at the end. Discuss thoroughly their services and the quality they present. See their previous work for a start. Avoid getting engaged in any advance payment. But if you are receiving your work in intermediate, then they must be requesting small commissions to cover your charges.

As a foreign language service agency, they must be responsible enough to value your money to provide their most accurate translation service. Since it most certainly depends on how your business would grow and how the German audience would appreciate your book. An agency that values the accuracy of translation and abides by the timeliness can respect the client’s demand. Now you can go ahead and choose your German translating agency with the ease of knowing the basics.

#translation serives #german translation

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life-observed · 4 years

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Finding a Place for Third-Culture Kids in the Culture

In his new HBO series, the filmmaker Luca Guadagnino revisits a timeless yet timely question: What does it mean to be from everywhere and nowhere at once?

On a blanched, sun-baked afternoon, two teenagers, a boy and a girl, wander into a grocery store to pick up lunch. Fraser is a recent transplant from New York, and Britney a new friend who has lived her life evenly between South Korea, Germany and Italy, though you’d never know it by her American drawl or the pop music she blares through her headphones. To the viewer, the scene presents like quotidian life in the United States — but for the fact that it takes place in Veneto, Italy, on a military base where families work and attend school, their children running off every evening to dance and drink by the cerulean sea alongside their friends from town with whom they scheme and share secrets, whispered in fluent Italian. In a few years, many of them will ready themselves for a move — to another home on another military base in another country, with a supermarket configured to look exactly like this one. “They look the same so you don’t feel lost,” Britney tells Fraser. “Do you ever feel lost?” he asks. She shrugs.

The idea that a sense of belonging is challenged by the straddling of cultures is hardly a revelation; nearly every maker whose back story was shaped by more than one place has arrived at some version of that conclusion. But rarely do we hear the stories of so-called “third-culture kids” and the private, nomadic worlds in which they are raised, marked by a certain shared disorientation and the sense that home is everywhere and nowhere at once. It’s for this reason that the Italian director Luca Guadagnino will attempt to unpack one iteration of this experience — through Fraser, Britney and their five best friends — in “We Are Who We Are,” an eight-part series premiering this September on HBO that pulls back the curtain on the experiences of the children of military families abroad and other third-culture kids like them, whose place in the world now feels both more tenuous and important than ever before.

Coined by the American sociologist Ruth Useem in the 1950s, the term “third-culture kid” was conceived for expatriate children who spend their formative years overseas, shaped by the multicultural, peripatetic spheres of their parents, many of whom are diplomats, military members or others working in foreign service. They relocate frequently and enroll their children in international schools, exposing them to miniature realms cultivated by peers from nations far and wide, whose customs, languages and mores coalesce, birthing hybrid or “third” cultures that are globe-spanning, diverse, highly empathic and oftentimes difficult to translate outside these environments.

Perhaps because this life is characteristically slippery, it’s struggled to become clearly defined in the culture, even in fictional stories, suited though they are to crafting imagined worlds. Ironically, while most TCKs cite the ability to relate to nearly everyone, their own narratives suffer a relatability problem, perhaps because their youthful experiences, relegated wholly to remembrance and recollection, are in many ways too singular and strange-seeming to others. Still, there are characters that have managed to catch hold, the complexities of their placelessness often anchored to more universal quandaries: Elio Perlman, played by Timothée Chalamet in Guadagnino’s 2017 film adaptation of André Aciman’s “Call Me By Your Name” is one such example; a trilingual adolescent reared in the university orbit between the United States and Northern Italy — his father is from the former, his mother the latter — he casts his American and European identities on and off with a kind of begrudging ease, lording them over his father’s visiting graduate student, Oliver (Armie Hammer), on some days, while on others he’s consumed by a sort of languid estrangement from everyone around him, retreating into himself. Though the story is propelled forward by the unfurling of muffled desire and fleeting boyhood, it’s hard not to notice how a defined cultural identity — or lack thereof — inevitably underscores Elio’s coming-of-age, as he pursues different versions of himself in different relationships: in English with Oliver, in French and Italian with his girlfriend Marzia and in all three with his parents, code-switching in what feels like a futile attempt to stitch together facets of a fractured self.

Of course, how Elio conveys this onscreen may have more to do with Guadagnino himself, who has long constructed his complex, layered characters partly in his own image. “That’s me,” he says immediately over Zoom in August, when I read off Useem’s definition of a third-culture kid. “I was born in Palermo, and moved almost right away to Ethiopia. I spent the first six years of my life there. Then we went to Rome, then Palermo again and then back to Rome, then to Milan and to London. I feel the most important aspect of being a filmmaker is to be really aware of what forms you as much as what’s in front of you. So, I always try to keep in mind what I could have been experiencing during my youth in all these places through the prism of these complex stories I tell.”

If asked, any third-culture kid will tell you that shape-shifting — rousing one of the many selves stacked within you to best suit the place you’re in — becomes a necessary survival skill, a sort of feigned fitting in that allows you to relate something of yourself to nearly everyone you meet. As someone raised between New York and the diplobrat bubble of an international school in New Delhi, India, where friends would come and go every few years, I became adept at calibrating myself to find the points of connection between us, able to relate equally to someone from South Korea, Iceland, Japan, Italy or Jamaica, in many cases more so than to other Indian Americans whose lives, at least on paper, read closer to my own. And because our stories couldn’t be gleaned from our outward appearances, accents or possessions, we all came humble to the table, open and permeable and ready to barter the surfaces of our souls: our learnings, our languages, our cuisines, our clothing.

While all of this contributed, certainly, to feeling perennially adrift (according to multiple studies by Useem and others, much as they may try, adult TCKs never wholly repatriate culturally), it blotted the sensation of feeling like we’d “grown up at an angle to everywhere and everyone,” as the writer Pico Iyer — of Indian parentage, raised between England and California, who now lives between the latter and Japan — told me during a recent phone conversation. In his own work, Iyer has spent a lifetime examining this feeling and others that result from cultural crisscrossing, both out in the world in “Video Night in Kathmandu,” a 1988 collection of essays which examines the unlikely cultural points at which East and West meet across Asia — Japan’s affinity for baseball, say, or the Philippines’ obsession with country and western music — and then in “The Global Soul,” written twelve years later, which studied, conversely, the crisscrossings that take place within. Iyer found peace in accepting that belonging had little to do with geography, but rather a collection of personal interests, ideas and relationships accumulated over time. “Growing up with three cultures around or inside me, I felt that I could define myself by my passions, not my passport,” he says. “In some ways, I would never be Indian or English or Californian, and that was quite freeing, though people may always define me by my skin color or accent. But also, because I didn’t have that external way of defining myself, I had to be really rigorous and directed in grounding myself internally, through my values and loyalties and to the people I hold closest to me.”

Others have found freedom in the same, becoming natural shape-shifters whose value systems transcend borders to instill a sense of home. The most famous example is probably Barack Obama, whose 1995 memoir, “Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance,” whirls through Jakarta, Seattle, Kenya and Hawaii with unsparing analysis of what it means to belong to multiple worlds and therefore to none of them, but to find, later, that refuge lies in the space between all of them — and in the ability to unite not just your worlds but others’, too. As much as the third-culture experience is clouded by the fog of liminality, it’s informed also by the ability to define oneself on one’s own terms, difficult as that endeavor may be in the face of increasing scrutiny toward globalism and those formed by it.

The presentation of this — dazzling and dressed up — is what makes “We Are Who We Are” thrilling to watch. Its characters come alive in the blur, filling in one another’s spaces and dancing over questions of home, while bragging about where they’ve been, their exchanges captured in shimmering, slow-motion interludes scored to original music, the silky synth pop of Blood Orange. And while the show takes place in the run-up to the 2016 election, its politics remain a quiet drumbeat in the offing, its spotlight focused wholly on all the ways by which differences are, in fact, paradoxically harmonious when everyone is otherized. In fashioning themselves to evade traditional modes of identification (culturally, politically, sexually and through gender), these characters build their own castles in the sky. “When you grow up this way, there is a feeling of being lost, but to be lost is also to be open,” Guadagnino says. “It reminds us of our empathy, and of what we share if we were only to try and find it.”

This may be the ultimate lesson of third-culture kids’ stories. In the late Kobe Bryant’s 2018 book “The Mamba Mentality,” which offers a glimpse into his childhood years in Reggio Emilia, Italy, he discusses the importance of having learned how to navigate a new culture with compassion. Though he eventually settled down in America — becoming not only one of its sports heroes, but one of its cultural icons, too — he continued to make frequent trips back to Italy, where he’d speak the sort of Italian that boasted a native European bravado, a casual swagger that rode along his perfect pronunciation. And when he died in Los Angeles, he died in Reggio Emilia, too, where they mourned a version of him America never knew, except for the Italian names he had chosen for his daughters: Gianna, Natalia, Bianka and Capri.

Of course, not all depictions of third-culture life have been so uplifting. Occasionally, too, these characters are written to be spoofed and ridiculed, assigned snobbish attitudes and superiority complexes. Without proper context, it can appear as if they need too much and require a sort of excess to keep them perpetually moving, making it hard to divorce third-culture life from that of overt wealth and privilege, or an indifference to local customs. In the 2018 Netflix show “You,” the model-actress Hari Nef portrays Blythe, a third-culture poet prodigy whose parents worked for the state department and raised her between Papua New Guinea and Tokyo. When the central character, Beck — a timid, hopeful writer played by Elizabeth Lail — meets her, she looks her up and down and smirks before asking, “Jersey, right?” and runs off to take a call from her grandparents in Swedish. In the third-culture writer Stephanie LaCava’s forthcoming novel, “The Superrationals,” which dives into the torrid waters of the international art world, the protagonist Mathilde, raised between the U.S. and France, is ridiculed relentlessly by “the girls,” a catty clique of gallery insiders who dislike her for all the ways in which she’s different (“What is that name?” they ask. “Is she even French? She’s so pretentious”). And in 2010’s “Sidewalks,” a razor-sharp collection of essays about the failures of finding home in lived experiences and written ones alike, Valeria Luiselli — the author of the 2019 novel “Lost Children Archive” and the daughter of a Mexican diplomat formed by an upbringing in Costa Rica, South Korea, India and South Africa — sarcastically comments on her own selection of Mexico as “her country,” driven mostly by cynicism and “a sort of spiritual laziness than an authentic act of faith.” She admits she’s never felt true allegiance to anywhere she’s lived, knowing only that she must continue roaming.

But all these stories, of course, predate the precarious state we find ourselves in today, when borders are clamping down in domino effect, driven in part by the Covid-19 pandemic, itself a case against globalism and the speed at which interconnectedness can burn it all down, imperiling not only our ability to travel but limiting those who find selfhood in marginal spaces, whose stories underscore the urgency of seeing the world as one. And while internationalism deserves examination, what we stand to lose without it is our ability to lift one another up, to find each other in the in-between. One might look to Kamala Harris — who, born to Jamaican and Indian parents, often discusses her ability to consider multiple sides — or Obama before her. Such voices, with their chameleonic stories and sensibilities, help locate the light in the dark.

#tck #Third Culture Kid #self #identity #globalization #culture #Noor Brara #storytelling #pico iyer #values #freedom

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indieks · 6 years

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Valentine's Day +2 🥀 Bang Chan

🌹 Pairing : Bang Chan x Reader

🌹 Genre : A lot of fluff, Mild angst

🌹 Word count : 8.2k

🌹 Synopsis : He had asked you out on Valentine’s day, making this special day even more special to you. However, two years later, this fourteenth day of February turns out to be one of the days the both of you hate the most. Bang Chan still loves you, and you still love him, then how come you didn't manage to be each other’s Valentine any longer?

🌹 A/N : Hello everyoooone! I’m posting just a short prompt. For the first time I'm writing for Stray Kids but reading excellent fics with Bang Chan just made me want to write as well, and for the second first time in my life, I've written a fanfic in only an afternoon, after having had a pretty nice dream and having seen the McDonald's advertisements for Valentine's day. Putting these two things together, I’ve come out with this!

Hopefully you guys will enjoy it, I’m still working on my Jooheon’s series but I think I will come to love publishing oneshots randomly like this! Thank you for ever reading my work ♥

February 14th, 2017.

It was high time he asked you out, he knew it, and he finally had braced the courage to do so. Chan wasn't sure if you reciprocated his feelings as the signs he thought he had perceived might have been wrong, or if you felt as complete as he were every time you spent time together. But still, he had to let his heart speak for itself after having muting it for so long, its hushed voice that turned inside his head whenever you were near him constricting his throat more and more as it fought to get out, to the point he had a hard time answering as you asked him :

"So where do you want to meet tonight?"

Your lovely voice at the other end of the line froze Chan under his sheets, his phone nearly crushed into his hand, and suddenly all of his bravery and his firm decision to tell you how he felt was nowhere to be found. He felt helpless like back when he was in middle school, time when he had, like a lot of children of his young age, been "in love" with a classmate, getting petrified every time she had smiled at him or held his hand in the rows.

However right now, he was twenty-one years old, in his third year of studying music at the university, and he had already written a few stories with other girls in the past before he met you, so he just couldn't let himself be petrified within his feelings like a kid. He had always been confident, smiling, comfortable around his previous crushes ; he had even had a serious relationship where he had been the one to confess first. Then how come everything in his usual self-assured behavior turned out to be M.I.A when it came to you?

He had met you during the second semester of the second year, in other words about six months ago. You had freshly landed in Seoul, flying from a foreign country, and barely speaking the language but at least comprehending its basics. He had been told that you had moved because of your parents' jobs, and that you needed someone to help you get accustomed to your new environment and make it into the third year without lacking too much.

And luckily for you, Chan had been the one to welcome you. The blonde and curly haired boy was indeed the president of the Foreign and Exchange Students association, created specifically for the ones that came by to study in Seoul for a semester or longer thanks to partnerships with universities across the world. Chan had come from Australia himself as soon as he had become a high school graduate, and quickly, he had been sent over to this small organization where a few foreign students or bilingual Koreans had helped him untangle all the administrative formalities, tutored him to perfect his mastering of the language, and taught him other little things that had made him went through his first year smoothly.

And at some point, Chan had turned out to be the one giving a hand to lost foreigners, making him the next target for the presidency of the association, as he also was quite popular and well appreciated by everyone, especially thanks to his rap trio 3RACHA from the Music association in which he had also signed in. His two friends and himself had indeed got themselves known by dropping bomb-like verses during small concerts thrown by the association at the beginning of the student council's parties, earning some kind of fame and recognition.

That is how he had dated his first long-term girlfriend ever, a student from the same major as his and a member of the Music association, her voice having mused him somehow and making him fall for her charms just like a sailor called out by the chant of a mermaid. They had started to write, record and perform collabs together, their duet's popularity skyrocketing to the top of the gossips and the admiration of everyone ; however, the two soon realized they weren't matching as well as a couple as they did in music, so the romance ended after a few months together.

And Chan had known, when he had had the chance to talk to you for the first time and for the days and weeks after that, that he indeed had just been musically on the same wavelength as his ex ; because it was you, he felt romantically in sync with.

He still remembered the dumbfounded expression twisting your traits as you had been wandering in the hallways on your first day of school, your silhouette being dragged around slowly by your stumbling feet as you had looked around in hopes to find the association's meeting room quickly, feeling the most lost you had ever been in your whole life. Studying in Seoul didn't displease you, but arriving in the middle of a year, when everyone had already made acquaintances during the past months, had automatically been putting a distance between the people in your year and yourself, not mentioning your learning of the language that had still been in process.

But what Chan was reminded of the most, was the relieved look and the wide smile you had addressed him when he had finally come to your rescue after he had amusingly observed you behind the room's windows, with your head snapping from the left to the right in search of your destination. From your first discussion around a cup of coffee spitted by the vending machine, Chan had known you were nice and easy-going, and something about how your eyes had lightened up every time he had questioned you about your country, your studies and your passions, had warmed his heart.

And from this short encounter, Chan then became your first classmate, friend, but also your every single school project's partner ; and as time had went by, you also had become the best buddies. You couldn't quite explain how come your minds just clinked the way they did, maybe the "foreign" way of thinking helping you to get closer faster as you understood, interpreted, discovered and learned the same things with the same "ooh" slipping out of your mouths each time one of Chan's friends – who had then ended up being yours – explained something to the both of you. It was funny to see that after more than a year of living on the Korean ground, Chan was still as much of a newbie as you.

If you had dreaded the sudden change in your life, the leaving of your own friends back in your mother's country, the imposing of a new culture you were excited to dig yourself in as much as it feared you, Chan had become the constant ray of sun gracing your days, with the efforts he put to spare time to study with you and help every time you needed, with his dimple smile and his dork-ish attitudes that made you laugh out loud during classes, with his funniness, tenderness but also his kind of protective aura you had grown to get the most comfortable around, as if standing or sitting next to him conveyed the same familiar and welcoming feeling you had when you reunited with your bed once home.

Soon enough, as the months had passed along with the rising of your grades up 'til the end of the year, your bloody organ had come to double in size just to welcome the huge amount of feelings you had secretly gathered for Bang Chan, just like he implicitly had for you.

So, on this February 14th, 2017, just before the start of your third year, it was with knots torturing your stomach and chills plaguing your skin that you were waiting for Chan in front of the McDonald's restaurant, eyes fixed on the usual spot next to the window that you, him and your group of friends always targeted when you decided to drop Korean food for gross burgers and fries, and you found yourself dozing off into a set of wonderings.

He knows it's Valentine's day, doesn't he? Why would he want to meet on this special day? With couples around everywhere to remind him? Why? Was it on purpose, or not?

Chan and you were already pretty close, amicably but also physically speaking, not a day being spent without an arm swung around shoulders, fingers pinching cheeks, hands grasping waists or wrists as you or him led the way through the corridors ; all those small gestures hinting at some kind of attraction you had for each other and making you suppose the day you would cross the "friends" line was approaching. Yet every time he ruffled your hair like a brother would and genuinely smiled at you after having attempted any of these physical contacts, he watered the roots of doubt you still had planted at the back of your head.

"Hi" a familiar, sweet voice pulled you down to Earth and right out of your daze, and you slightly jumped at the sight of your closest friend, his long blonde hair fighting messily on the top of his head.

"You know we're in winter, right?" you sighed as you couldn't help but compare your body wrapped into dozens of layers of fabrics to protect yourself from the icy weather, while he was just… Sporting a black windbreaker with the hood barely covering his skull.

The boy chuckled and grabbed you by the shoulders before turning you around towards the entrance, not even bothering to answer your question as he knew you had asked rhetorically, your scolding side talking for itself. He made you sit down at the famous spot, telling you he would order without letting you the time to protest.

"I know what you're eating, just trust me" he had smiled slyly before turning around.

That pretty twist of his lips faded the cold sensation your shivering body had been put through during the good ten minutes you had been waiting for him, and you eyed him with your chin in the palm of your hand, your pupils unintentionally shooting a loving stare at his silhouette waiting in line.

You liked him so much, couldn't he see?

You wondered how come he hadn't caught the signs of how weak in the knees he made you, when he would back-hug you from time to time, when he would video call you during the weekend to tell you he was bored, when he would text you as he was getting drunk with the boys to narrate you the shit they were about to do, when he would wait for you every Monday and Thursday at the end of classes, when he would ask you to sneak out the dorms as you both couldn't sleep, when he would rap in front of you with a firm tone and an aussie accent that ate your insides.

He was utterly charming, caring, reliable, nice, and moreover, he had the looks ; a perfect combination to inevitably push you over the edge and make you fall for him at some point.

"Here" the boy shook you out of your thoughts another time by sitting down in front of you with a plate where exactly the same menus were organized, the greasy scent making your twisted stomach growl in hunger.

A question about why he had ordered the exact same thing for you and for him flashed in your mind as a thunderbolt, your tastes in food being rather complementary than similar usually, however you weren't expecting the answer he gave you in spite of you not having even worded your interrogation :

"It's… It's the Valentine's day menu" he first trailed off, his eyes meeting yours for a split second before you witnessed the frown that crumpled his traits as if he was embarrassed at himself.

He definitely was, because he knew how cheesy, cringy and ridiculous his demand was about to be, but it was the only idea he had had to satisfy his urge to word you how he wanted you to be more than a friend.

"I know it must be kind of awkward to have invited you at McDonald's on this special day we can't ignore with all the heart balloons, the advertisements, the couples around us… Y-You probably are wondering what you're doing here with me tonight anyway, but I just couldn't find the proper moment to ask you something without feeling like I'm gonna die on the spot before…"

He leveled up his pupils and held your curious gaze that had pierced right through him all the while, your heartbeat speeding up like a runner for his last 50 meters on the track, the taste of anticipation gracing the front buds of your tongue.

"But as I saw this menu on the subway walls, I thought this could help me seduce you and would rise up my chances because you love it so much. So… W-Would you be my Valentine and share it with me, Y/N?"

He whined and smacked himself lightly, his eyes shooting up to the ceiling and his nose wrinkling, and the urge to laugh bubbled at the back of your throat, the happiness of knowing he mirrored your feelings and the cuteness of his actions – being a first in front of you – getting the best of you.

"So it was a date" you smiled cheekily, taken aback by your own assurance as you looked at him with battling lashes.

"Yeah, it was. Not quite romantic, but at least I'm sincere" he chuckled shyly, bringing his left hand to mess up the mop of curls atop his reddening head.

"French fries and burgers can be quite romantic to me, especially when my boyfriend and I share the exact same menu showing we get along well to this point. What are roses compared to that?" you joked.

Chan bit his lip as he heard you pronounce the word "boyfriend" and in less than a second, he was standing up to sit next to you, before his large hands grabbed your face smoothly.

"I've been craving to do that more than to eat a burger, can you imagine that coming from me?" he half-whispered and once he saw you smile in response, he took it as his green light and stole a kiss from your plump lips.

That first time you kissed, he had tasted like tangerines, probably the last thing he had eaten as a snack before he had come to meet you. And the second time, as you got out of the fast-food with your fingers intertwined with his, he had tasted like ketchup and cola ; but the two times, it turned out to be the most appetizing taste your lips had been met with, his own then becoming a source of hunger every time they grazed your mouth, as you couldn't get enough of them.

February 14th, 2018.

"That's perfect baby, one more take and we can go, I promise" Chan tenderly addressed you in the mic from the other side of the small studio he rented with the 3RACHA members, and you quickly gulped down a sigh as you nodded at him.

He was lucky you loved him enough to be patient in spite of the pile of anger that had slowly been building itself down the pit of your stomach during the last weeks. It was your first-year anniversary so you were willing to not mess everything up, still you knew you were going to talk to him about what was bothering you sooner or later.

The main problem was that as time passed by, Chan seemed to be caring for you and loving you just like he had been during the first flourishing months of your relationship, yet exclusively once it was the two of you between the four walls of the dark studio, where he would solicit your help to record a few things, complimenting your voice again and again, his eyes closed as he listened to it on a loop in his headphones.

At first, it had touched you and made you proud that he had asked you to feature on the songs he had written with the boys ; but now, it simply bit at your nerves to see him in pure ecstasy at the sound of your voice more than before you, his girlfriend, standing in front of him inside a living body. He had told you about his collabs with his ex and even had made you listen to them with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction on his traits as he was still proud of what they had produced, but to your pleasure, he had been on cloud 9 when you had accepted his offer of being the one to sing with him on his first real mixtape.

Because yes, Chan and his two friends from 3RACHA were soon going to drop their first mixtape on various strealing platforms, thanks to one of the foreign students your boyfriend had helped all too kindly and whl had then testified of his gratitude by talking about them to his father who had connections with people in the music industry.

And ever since that project had been on tracks, Chan had started to get literally obsessed with writing, producing and moreover, getting a glimpse of your voice in his songs. You had been flatted like every single girlfriend of a musician would have been in your boots, however, you had ignored that "working" with him could cause a new kind of frictions between the two of you, the lookout for perfection sometimes tensing him.

Still, every time he had been too harsh on you, he had always managed to make himself forgiven with apologies or surprise visits at your dorm room late at night, if you had left him alone in the studio after having told him to piss off and to look for another backup singer, "why not his ex whose voice he liked so much".

Indeed, what angered and saddened you the most, was that you had reluctantly admitted to yourself that he somehow was trying to accomplish what he hadn't with his ex, this dream of having found his muse in love and in music.

You could see he was living his best life, but you weren't sharing the same dream. You weren't the girl he was seeing in you, and as much as you loved music, as much as you appreciated how he let you enter in the intimate bubble it represented for him, you weren't aspiring to do this forever. You weren't a duet, you were a couple ; you weren't his backup singer, you were his girlfriend ; and you had to remind Chan of that.

On top of it all, to worsen your love life by making you overthink of him, Chan was practically not sleeping anymore, his days spent in classes and his nights spent composing. It had caused him to having kind of fainted in your arms more than once, the scariest time being at an underground performance, where you had thankfully been in the front row to catch him. Yet even despite his body sending him signs of how unhealthy the way he led his life was, his passion turning scarily into a fixation, he still couldn't stop himself from devoting his body and soul to it.

"Happy first anniversary, love" Chan muttered against your lips as he had entered the small recording booth where you had been standing in for a – way too long – moment, and you instantly melted under his touch, as if his fingers brushing your clothes and the skin of his mouth on top of yours absorbed any hint of your previous anger and frustration.

Oh damn, you loved him so much. But why couldn't he love you back as he simply used to, by engulfing you in the corridors, by video calling you on the weekends to spit nonsense, by drunk texting you that he was missing you, by waiting for you on Mondays and Thursdays instead of going straight to the studio with Jisung and Changbin?

You missed his friendship and his spontaneous side, as you craved for the thing you liked the most about your relationship in the first place : your ability to discuss about anything and everything for hours, like your buddy-selves had used to do before you had started to officially date.

Yet every single time he would finally grant you some of his kisses, their deepness being felt by the way his eyes bored into yours and how he exhaled intensely as if your touch never ceased to turn him upside down, you stopped being upset because of him as it reminded you that you knew, he was just being passionate.

You knew you had to support him, you knew you had to be the one to at least stick by his side as his path towards his dream was getting narrower yet clearer ; nevertheless, a selfish and hurt voice kept on whispering to you how bad you wished to go back to before this project had ever been mentioned, how bad you wished he had his attention on you and you only more often.

"Listen to this…" he mumbled in a sigh with an arm still snaked around your waist now that you were back into the mastering room, and you heard your voice chant through the speakers, making you cringe and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

Chan kissed the top of your head while chuckling at your reaction, and he pressed a touch on the keyboard that replayed the small part all over again.

"Stop it, I hate hearing myself" you whined, giving him a slight tap on the back.

"But I fucking love it" he smiled as he closed his eyes, a breath of air leaving his nostrils and passing through your hair.

"And me? Do you love me?" your despair had suddenly blurted out without asking for permission, and you felt him tense a bit before you.

Silence. You didn't move, biting your bottom lip in regret but also in anticipation, as you somehow felt relieved by having asked the question which had buzzed into your mind lately.

"Hm? What's that question baby?" Chan asked you worryingly, his fingers gently grabbing your chin to turn it away from his chest and make you look at him.

"Why don't you answer it?" you replied back, your heart playing the drums and your palms turning moist.

Seeing the look of incomprehension painting his traits, you sighed and only planted a small kiss on his lips, tiredness taking the best of you as well as deception to see he definitely was not noticing how he had said he loved your voice all the time for weeks now, but without ever saying the three words eight letters to you directly.

"Wait Y/N, what's wrong? Tell me" he ushered you, blocking you by tightening his grasp around your frame when you tried to walk away, and your butt came back in contact with the huge desk.

"Nothing, it's just… Thank you for loving my voice so much, but I would gladly appreciate it if you loved me more" you bluntly explained, not even caring about how sincere you were being, without any filter to soften your tone.

"What's that nonsense? When I tell you I love your voice it's also a way for me to tell you I love you, you should know that" he protested with a slight furrow of his eyebrows, his pupils searching for any clearer explanation on your face.

However, his answer didn't satisfy you, it did quite the reverse ; it angered you.

"How can I be sure anymore when you look at me, praise me, reach out to me only once we're in this studio?" you crossed your arms firmly. "And look, you did love Jihye's voice, but it didn't work out, so sorry if I'm doubting"

"Wait- Why are you bringing her up now? What's the real problem here? I don't understand you" Chan took a step back to have a better sight of your scowl.

You slowly exhaled your fury that was suddenly flaring your guts and making you see red out of nowhere. Every single thing you had kept for yourself was resurfacing like the lava from the pit of a volcano, and you definitely burned your boyfriend as you exploded and let it all out :

"Maybe you don't understand me anymore, just as I'm having a hard time to understand you. We're always talking about music, you're always in the studio, and seems like you're only loving me and wishing to see me behind that glass with headphones on. Because otherwise, you're unreachable, Chan. You're like in your own world, and I feel like I'm existing just when you need me to be, because if I don't reach out to you when we're not here, you don't."

The jaw of the blonde boy had slightly fallen in surprise but he was quick to clench it as he passed a hurried hand through his soft strands of hair, and he was the one to heave a sigh this time.

"Is this what it is about? I thought you were rooting for me, I thought you wanted me to talk about what was going in my head, that's our number one rule, so yeah, actually, nowadays, my head is all about that mixtape, I'm sorry. You should know this is important to me" he explained with an unreadable expression masking his face, before it switched to a hurt one as he had spoken out the last words.

"I know that, I know, but what I don't know anymore is if I am important to you as well" you retorted, a familiar burn spreading behind your eyelids and telling you the tears were coming. "You don't reassure me on that point anymore."

"But what should I do to reassure you? If you don't get the proof that I love you when I'm asking you to sing with me and when I'm praising you, then I don't know what to do? I-I'm just super confused right now because you're blurting everything out of nowhere!" his voice was a tone higher but you didn't guess that it wasn't due to some anger but rather frustration.

"It is NOT out of nowhere, Chan! It's just that you can't read my expressions anymore, nor guess what I want too! You think we're having the perfect relationship right now, but I don't!" you then broke into sobs, to the greatest surprise of your boyfriend who immediately decreased the distance between the both of you. "Look at us, we're here in this fucking suffocating studio again, even when it's our first anniversary! We don't do anything besides that, we don't do simple and random things as we used to before, and I fucking miss it… That was perfect for me"

You cried in his black shirt, your ear against the left part of his chest so that you could hear how fast his heart was beating, while he was caressing the back of your skull soothingly.

"I-I'm sorry babe, I didn't know… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he was muttering again and again, his lips brushing the top of your head.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry" you abruptly calmed yourself down, retreating from his hug and looking up to him whose eyes were shining with worry and sorrow. "I already can guess in which position I'm putting you, and I don't want it."

"What are you talking about?" his voice had turned low, almost a whisper, as his palms came to grasp your face.

"I can't be asking desperately for your affection if you're not thinking by yourself of giving to me, I can't be asking you to go back to what we were when you're going ahead towards your dream, I-"

"No, no Y/N don't do this, please" he pleaded as he finally got where you were going, his head shaking from the left to the right. "This is not what I want"

"And I can't ask you to drop that project or to spend less time on it for me, because I know how important it is for you and for your dream, and because I love you. So I'd rather step aside, so you wouldn't have to worry about me now that I said what I said. I can't be that burden, I wouldn't forgive myself if I become the reason why you work less on your music."

You were so sad, and you had felt so sorry as you had caught the confused and hurt look on his face as he firstly had believed you weren't supporting him anymore, that you couldn't think of any other solution that the fatal one.

"I'm sorry I know I'm hard to live with these days but it'll soon be over, please stick with me a little bit longer, please…" Chan tried to reason you, his thumbs wiping your tears away. "I love you, I swear I do, it's just stress that's eating my brain, but I'll find a compromise, I swear"

"No, Chan. Because after this mixtape, will come another one, and surely multiple others because you guys are talented, and I can't ask you to lessen the time you spend working on it if this is what it's supposed to take" you denied, your puffy eyes turning away from his as you were dozing off in a black hole of despair.

"I can do it. I will do it. I spend too much time on it, I know that" he ensured. "Stay with me."

You broke into another set of tears once again, and this time, as he saw his words had hit your sensitive chord, Chan turned your face to his and kissed you with a need you hadn't known he was feeling, something so desperate, all the while leaving his eyes open to watch your face he cherished so much. Soon, your arms were around his neck and his around your waist, and soon, you were making out like two valentines far from breaking up would on their first anniversary.

February 14th, 2019.

He couldn't find a compromise as his popularity had kept on increasing, and you couldn't bear hearing him telling you "sorry" again and again as you had felt guilty every single time, so after one year and four months of dating, you had chosen to break up, for his and your own good. You loved him and you knew he loved you too, but it seemed like you weren't able to be together, at least for now.

On this Valentine's day, you were extremely lonely, a single phrase banging against the walls of your otherwise empty head : "It would have been our two years today". It was two weeks before back to school, your fifth and last year at the university being long awaited, and as much as you felt excited, you dreaded seeing Chan again.

You both had remained what we could call "good friends" as you shared the same groups of buddies, forcing you to spend some time together at lunches, but moreover during classes as you were in the same major, him having specialized in recording while you had been attracted to the marketing and promotion faucet of Music. Your heart had ached every time he had greeted you with a small smile, or every time you had caught his stare on you at the few parties he had attended when he had not been in the studio – the parties being the ones where he had been asked to perform.

And every time he did perform, you had fallen in love with him all over again, as much as you felt proud of how fast he was growing musically, his lyrics, instrumentals and arrangements getting sharper and sharper, and comforting you in the idea that you had made the right choice. You had made the right choice, yes, but when it was time for school breaks and you couldn't see him daily, you missed him, and the lack of his presence hit you like a boomerang right in your face.

You ignored if he, too, craved for your company and your touch as much as you did. Because in class, in the broad daylight, he was always shining, still throwing smiles at everyone, still cracking jokes to his friends, in spite of the dark circles visible under the two black gems that were his eyes. So as March and back to school was approaching, you were scared to be met with him fully recovered after having spent the winter break away from you. You feared he would be the first one moving on, when you were stuck at the same place you had been back when you had broken up, the only thing helping you to get through it being his success in music.

3RACHA had now dropped three mixtapes in less than a year and were getting more and more recognition in the rap and music industry overall, labels only waiting for the members to finish their studies just like they had asked before darting their claws right at them.

I made the right choice, you repeatedly thought to yourself as you took a big bite of your McDonald's hamburger with contentment, your eyes fixed on the TV's screen playing "Bridget Jones's Diary" instead of savoring it with your boyfriend, because you were now a single woman hating that fourteenth day of February as much as the other who were in the same celibacy situation.

April 16th, 2019.

It was a shiny school day, cherry blossoms having bloomed on the alley taking you to the university, and you entered your first class of your agenda in a good mood. Chan was seating at the back of the small amphitheater, wearing his famous leather jacket, a white T-shirt marrying his toned bust and shoved into a pair of black jeans ripped at the knees, falling on biker boots. As if he had felt your aura spreading into the room, he suddenly leveled up his gaze towards the door and when your eyes met, he swore he had to retain a hiss.

You were utterly beautiful this morning, and if his heart had already been throbbing at your sight now that he couldn't hold you in his arms nor kiss you, he didn't know why, on this Tuesday in particular, he was struck that hard. Maybe it was the clearest of the signs he had tried to ignore up 'til now, telling him he needed to get you back somehow. He knew you had done this for him but also for you, he knew he had made you suffer, but damn, his feelings for you didn't seem to be fading, on the contrary ; the less he was seeing you, the more he thought of you, and the more he loved you and longed for you.

Now that he had produced three mixtapes, he was starting to get a hold of his schedule and his organization, and he was convinced that he could manage to satisfy you all over again, just like he had before getting sucked up into that "music is my life" spiral shit.

So as your eyes lingered on each other for a bit too long, as he caught a spark of need into your two orbits even if you had tried to put on a pokerface, Chan was pushed further towards his decision to make a move on you after having respected your unilateral decision for so long.

Time for lunch had come, and your group of friends within your class decided to eat outside and then to chill at Jihye's apartment for a while, the next course being a 6 p.m. Yes, Jihye and you had come to somehow grow close to each other as she had ended up being your partner on a project during the second semester of your fourth year and, surprisingly, she had even comforted you as you had broken down into tears in front of her during your brainstorming session at her place.

She was sweet, lively, bold, so there was no reason for you to despise her ; moreover, she sure hadn't any remaining feelings towards Chan as she had even offered you her help to get you back with him, which you had politely refused, because of how sure you were about your decision being "the best for the both of you".

You – not so surprisingly – ended up eating at McDonald's, Chan seated at the far end of the table so pretty much the furthest he could be from you, and a girl from the group never ceased to flirt with him, her crush on him completely obvious now that you knew about it, as one day, she had come to ask you if you and him were definitely over and if you were okay with her trying her luck. Yet, he seemed not to care as you only witnessed his glances at you from the corner of his eye, sometimes smiling at you when he saw how your brows furrowed, as if he didn't even care having been caught.

What's with him…?

Soon, out you were wandering in the streets with your ex, Woojin, Jisung and Changbin, the rest of your pack having stopped at an ice cream shop while you had chosen to look for a convenience store, your stomachs craving for the worst snacks for your stomach but the best to spend a lazy afternoon doing nothing.

The boys were loudly chatting and running before you while Chan slowly walked next to you, eyeing discretely your face as you were echoing their laughs, their jokes and crazy attitudes making you crack up. You seemed to be shining a dozen times more than the sun that was up in the sky and burning the top of your heads, the weather being particularly hot for a spring day. And as if he had been blinded by your beauty literally speaking, Chan suddenly felt dizzy from staring for too long, the reflect of the rays of the sun on the shopwindows you were passing not helping him getting his senses back.

He blinked a few times and looked in front of him, but the whole road was burning his eyes with a vivid white glow, and he got nauseous, bringing his arm in front of his eyes to protect his vision. However, the uneasy feeling had already spread down to his feet, making him chilly and panting as he brutally interrupted his steps, and the last thing he saw before his legs gave up on him, was your face as you had turned back to him, your voice calling out for him suddenly blurry in his ears.

"Chan! Chan what's wrong? Chan?!"

Out of a sudden, the blonde boy was falling frontwards, right into your two arms who had been ready to catch him, and you heard him moan as his head landed heavily against your right shoulder. You groaned as all his weight was passed onto you, before you called out his name again, however the two arms that weakly wrapped around your waist interrupted your flow of panic as it showed you the boy was still conscious. His whole body was shivering, yet his breathing was steady while yours was messed up by your sobs.

"You're not sleeping, again? Why? Why don't you sleep huh? Look at how you scared me!" you were scolding him, your love for him doubling your worry and your will to kill him for depriving himself from good nights of sleep.

"Hm… 'M sorry…"

You moved closer to the shop behind you and squatted slowly, your back longing the wall, taking him down with you in the process so that he could sit. Once his legs had been extended on the tar, you held his bust up with your two hands on his shoulders, ignoring how the leather of his jacket that had taken the sun was burning your palms. A shadow suddenly loomed over you as the boys had come back running once they hadn't felt you walking behind them anymore, but they quickly recognized the scene as being their friend's "classical" fainting due to his lack of rest.

"Changbin, I told you to make sure he was getting any sleep" you reproached to your friend whose eyes were filled with the same worry as yours, and you saw his expression mute into a sorry one as he saw how you bad were crying.

"I was sure he was… We got back to the dorms together each time, but I guess he only makes it seem like he's sleeping once he's in his bed…" he mumbled as he looked down at the Australian guy who was slowly regaining consciousness.

"Babe…"

"It's fine, Chan, I'm here. Just breathe. It's fine, it's gonna be alright, hm? It's gonna be alright if you just breathe, and get some rest, please" you reassured him as one of your hands left his body to dry the waterworks on your steaming cheeks.

"I'm sleeping… I just didn't sleep the past week… Because I was too busy thinking of ways to get you back…" he half-mumbled half-chuckled, his head slowly raising so that his tired eyes could meet yours.

Your heart jumped up your throat at his declaration and smoothly, the three friends who had been towering the both of your sitting figures retreated. Chan let out a deep sigh at your lack of response and, magically, he found enough strength to gather his legs and squat in front of you, his knees practically touching your bust. You could feel his profound breathing caress your face, the air drying the wet traces your tears had left, and the way he looked at you took your own breath away.

"I just miss you, so bad, y'know? Let's get back together, I'm in love with you and seems like it won't change" he said in a loving but hoarse voice.

Small pearls of sweat were forming at the base of his forehead, humidifying his long strands of hair he pushed back with a shaky hand.

"I found out how to manage my time, now… I can't be apart from you anymore, I've used up all my ideas for songs about breakups and sadness and regrets" he softly laughed, his dimples reappearing and they got the best of you as they made him earn a smile from you. "I won't disappoint you nor will I put you aside. So give me a second chance, hm? Trust me with my choice just like I trusted yours, but I don't think we're better without each other anymore"

"You twit" you only responded as his confession had pulled at the right strings of your heart, the ones of hope, of lingering feelings, of need, of lack.

You could depict the sincerity in his eyes, and you could guess that he had waited for this day to come, the one when he could ensure you he was able to manage his love for music and his love for you. He had respected your decision and had learned from it, only to find a way to make it work out with you again. You delicately rose your two hands up and cupped his face, spotting how he leaned into your touch and how his nostrils dilated as he took in a deep breath, and slowly, you got closer to him, giving him a single but soft kiss.

Then, Chan let himself drift forward to land his two hands on each side of your head on the glass, and he extended his neck to steal another kiss from you, then a third and a fourth one, until a scraping of a throat interrupted your make up :

"Let's go, lovebirds, they're waiting for us at the apartment" Jisung informed you and you quickly stood up, helping Chan to do so before holding his waist as you walked to make sure he wouldn't fall again.

Once you were at Jihye's apartment and after a lot of wooo's, claps and whistles your classmates addressed you as they saw you coming in each other's arms, you directed yourselves towards the bed at the far end of the living room, where you made Chan lie down so that he could at least get a little bit of rest before the next class. And because he just had retrieved your skinship after too many months of only dreaming of it painfully, he couldn't get enough of you, so he dragged you down with him before you even had the time to get him a cup of water.

You pulled the cover over the both of your bodies lying on the side and ignored the sly remarks your classmates made as they installed themselves on the sofa which had its back on you, and immediately, your boyfriend pulled you closer to him and kissed you with a good pressure of his mouth against yours.

"Oh my god how bad I missed that" he murmured, his lips still grazing yours, and you shivered at the sensation.

You had missed him as well so you couldn't refrain your hands from climbing up his back and sneaking slightly under his white T-shirt, making him groan softly.

"I want you…" he shamelessly admitted, causing you to bite his lip teasingly before peppering his jaw and neck with pecks.

"I don't think you're capable of doing anything right now, you're out of energy with your insomnias" you chanted discretely. "And I don't understand how you can even think of that as we're lying in your ex's bed"

Chan laughed, his chest shaking against yours and his smile spreading from ear to ear, as he had also missed your nagging temperament.

"Maybe that's a kink…"

You kicked his feet he then tangled with yours and he laughed even more before engulfing you the closer he could to his body. You got drunk on his scent, that familiar, welcoming, warm perfume that had tinted all of your belongings back at your dorm room ; but it sure didn't feel the same smelling it directly on him.

"Let's skip classes then…" he offered, his words still trailing off before he winced in pain as you pinched his skin.

"Certainly not, it's my favorite" you growled against his chest.

"Sure it's not more interesting to study my body?" he joked, looking down at you just so he could catch your annoyed expression.

"I didn't miss you actually" you resigned yourself, only earning a series of kisses in return. "And I already know your body by heart, nothing more for me to learn."

"You know, time has passed since the last time you saw it, you would be surprised as to how the gym has helped-"

"Shut up and sleep, you won't get what you want. At least not before the end of the lesson we're definitely going to in four hours" you interrupted him as you shut your eyes, inviting him to do the same.

"So you're willing to take your sick boyfriend back to class? When he's fainted? Wow Y/N, I didn't know you could be so heartless" he scoffed, his cheerful voice having retrieved all of its melody now that he was in a resting position.

"You should have slept, not my fault, it's the price to pay" you stuck to your decision, poking his chest lightly while keeping your eyelids closed.

"You should have come back to me sooner if you still loved me that much" he murmured into your ear before he kissed your temple lovingly and as usual, you melted in his two arms that seemed to have regained all of their strength.

"Same goes for you" you grumbled as you finally stared back at him.

His face was so close after having been just a fading memory in your head for so long, and you found yourself having a racing heartbeat as if it was the first time you both were that intimate.

"I love you." Chan then declared solemnly, his right hand that had been in your back coming to sort the wild strands of hair that had fallen before your eyes. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Bang Chan."

Two months and two days after Valentine's day, you were living the most special and romantic moment of your life, as you were secured into the arms of the man you loved and who loved you back, his eyes scanning your face with an enamored spark, his lips gracing yours with intense kisses, his toes playing with yours under the sheets just like any romantic movie would showcase in the scene where the two main characters woke up next to each other in the bed.

Chan had the ability to turn a simple day into one full of love and romance by just being himself, just like he had turned a special day into one with another meaning for the both of you, something deeper, something to celebrate not because the society told you to. And that is how April 16th, became as special in your heart as Valentine's day had once been.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst

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siyeonrk · 5 years

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MGA SEASON FIVE ! EP. 2 → PART ONE: MAIN SKILL CHALLENGE ( SINGING ONE 0:59 - 2:59 )

she’s never felt as nervous as sitting amongst so many talented people waiting for each name to be called. for a moment, she’s bitter that her family name hadn’t been ahn or bae so the metaphorical band-aid could be ripped off early, but at least she isn’t yoon siyeon. a silver lining amongst her sweaty palms and trembling fingers, perhaps, but it isn’t enough, especially as they reach the nohs and she knows park must be next.

there’s no doubt in her mind that they’ll skip straight past her name. after all, hadn’t it been a miracle that she’d gotten here in the first place? being part of the top hundred ( for whatever reason ) had already been barely believable, but getting any further than this— isn’t it impossible? but then they skip straight past jeno and siyeon’s eyes widen and her jaw drops as she looks over at him, unsure how to read his expression. if they eliminated jeno, who undeniably brought far more to the competition than she did, there’s no way— but she does and she feels like her heart stops, her breath caught in her throat.

and then the guilt settles in. not just for jeno, but for all the contestants who were easily more talented than her, more passionate, more desperate for this chance. she’s so grateful, of course, and still in shock long after the recording ends and they’re all sent home, but she can’t help the lingering thoughts that there are people who felt like this was their last chance or worse, their only chance, that she has taken the place of.

“they chose you for a reason. they didn’t choose them for a reason. it might not make a lot of sense to you why, but they know what they’re doing.” her grandmother reassures her when they watch the episode together on the following saturday. “you worked hard, siyeonie. be proud of yourself.”

she finally decides on a song for the next round on sunday morning. spending the last few days testing out different tracks from her endless spotify playlists, she’d become so overwhelmed to the point where she almost resorted to picking one from a hat, but the idea alone makes her grimace. putting her position in the show in the hands of fate seems like a risky move; siyeon’s never had much faith in letting things happen as the world intends. if you want something, you work for it, you don’t wait for it to fall into your lap, after all.

it’s still a slower, softer song like the tracks she’s performed before. this time, however, it’s a piano ballad entirely in english. whether or not the choice to sing in a foreign language will backfire on her she doesn’t know, though she can’t imagine it would. even if they can’t understand the words, hopefully the emotion she intends to lace into her voice will be enough to move those watching regardless.

her mirror is her audience for the following few days. at first, seeing her own expressions reflected back to her makes her cheeks flush to match her vibrant hair, but eventually, she grows used to the lines on her forehead as she puts her all into singing each word. she becomes familiar with the way her eyes delicately close towards the end of the pre-chorus, with the way her heart hammers in her chest as she belts out the outro.

as the filming nears, she becomes more energised, more nervous but excited. she has a good feeling about her performance — that even if she doesn’t make it to the next round, she’ll have at least stood and given her all, given something that she’s proud of.

when she arrives and takes her seat, flattening her dress beneath her and over her lap, the nerves ultimately begin to take control. her eagerness to perform had dwindled seeing the forty-nine chairs laid out for the other contestants, some already in their places, and the five ceo’s seats, looming over them. singing for them will get easier, she’s sure, but for now, it’s still terrifying. they’ve seen, worked with, the best of the best and here she is; not a formal singing lesson to her name, barely even a singer at all, and yet standing on stage ( in due course, anyway ) and silently begging for a chance to continue progressing through such a heated competition.

surely, this has to be the end of her journey here, right? she closes her eyes momentarily, stares down at the floor to recompose herself.

eventually, filming starts.

she’s fourteenth of twenty-one singers to go up if she remembers correctly. again, comfortably in the middle, with enough people before her to psych her out, but enough after that at least she doesn’t have everyone to follow on from. ( although, on the other hand, her performance would’ve been the freshest in their mind from singers, but she figures that with all the dancers and rappers still to go after them, it won’t make any difference. )

“park siyeon.” her name has never sounded so unfamiliar. she almost doesn’t realise it’s her turn, almost doesn’t move to take the stage once the previous girl has taken her seat again. she tugs on the bottom of her dress as she makes her way there, stands ready in her spot with a microphone in her hand.

before the music can start, she transports herself to her bedroom in front of the mirror. she’s just singing to herself again, to her audience of old childhood teddy bears and her grandma who thinks siyeon doesn’t know she has her ear pressed to her bedroom door. she sighs an inaudible breath out, moving the microphone to her mouth only when she’s done.

“hello, I’m park siyeon,” she announces in a smaller voice than usual from her. usually, however, she isn’t stood before fifty-four watchful eyes and countless cameras. “I’ll be singing one by lewis capaldi.” she shuffles on her feet, waits alertly for the music to start. she only has a single note, a single second to prepare herself to sing, after all. the worst thing she could do now is miss her opening cue.

she gave you love, but it wasn't enough you had your mind set out on other things can't sleep at night, now you're paying the price you let another come and take your place

english, having been her primary language for the better part of three of the last four years, nearly sounds more comfortable on her tongue than her native. it flows smoothly, confidence spilling out of her perfect pronunciation, syllables clear and accent distinct. she’d perhaps had preferred a tinge to her voice not so ‘posh’, but how can she have avoided picking it up at boarding school? she loved her friends back in england but she couldn’t deny that they weren’t all the stereotypical queen’s english rich kids she’d seen in movies. that was their charm, though, and now it’s her’s, her voice unique against the other contestants. she doesn’t think it’ll give her much of an edge but every little helps, right?

the song allows her to fully experiment with runs, lines often ending in drawn-out notes that the original singer flaunts his own colour through. her voice is softer than his as she moves through the second ( but her first ) verse, but it doesn’t take long for it to pick up both in volume and power. that’s where it stands out so starkly from the songs she’d sung previously. whilst it still has its ups and downs, a ballad such as this requires her to put a little more oomph into her tone than before. instead of making her audience feel relaxed or happy, he wants them to feel her gratitude — the singer’s gratitude for the man who didn’t realise what he had until she was gone, until she met the singer. siyeon hasn’t been through anything like that before, can’t completely relate to the emotions he’s feeling, but she knows she doesn’t have to have. what’s important is that she can convey it regardless, and she thinks of other things she’s grateful for that she could have easily lost or never had. her grandmother’s thriving health now that she’s here to help around the house. this opportunity. the love her parents showed her growing up, their support with this show, with any dream she’s ever had when they could have easily demanded she followed in their footsteps, been the heir to their business that they had been for her mother’s parents. as always, her eyes flutter closed as she moves through the pre-chorus, her voice fluctuating through strong and soft as she draws from all the fluttering in her heart and the nerves in her stomach.

you don't know what you got till it's gone know when it's right till it's wrong in search of perfect when you had it with you all along you broke her heart down with ease now I'm pickin' up every piece you must be so hard to please

she takes a deep breath as she transitions into the chorus, finally hitting — so far — the highest notes and strongest belts. for others, perhaps this would be a walk in the park, but for siyeon, it’s meticulously practised, it’s smoothly executed thanks to countless hours repeating it over and over until it had been perfect and then over and over again to make sure it’s always flawless. hard work pays off, she reminds herself. viewers don’t want to see someone who can already do everything perfectly, they want to see growth, effort, passion. or maybe she’s just telling herself that.

throughout the week, she’d tried her to best to push away her urge and instinct to belt the final word of the chorus a little too fiercely. her fear of falling flat overwhelms her each time, so much so that sometimes she doesn’t even realise she’s done it until she’s reaching the higher notes later in the song and realises it’d all been the same power instead of allowing the end to be the true climax of the song. it takes all of her focus and that becomes easier in the comfort of her bedroom, but even as she imagines she’s still there, she isn’t and her nerves push her voice a little louder, a little harsher than it needs to be as she repeats the last word, building up to drop back down for the bridge.

I wish I could say thank you for all the mistakes thank you for all of the pain I guess somebody else's loss is another's gain I'm saying thank you to the one who let her get away, away

finally, the small contrast in the track arrives and allows her once again to experiment a little with what her voice can do. her control isn’t anything special but it’s enough to do a couple of fancy tricks even if they could be better thought out, better performed. realistically, she should have stuck to the original, copied it perfectly so she wouldn’t embarrass herself with a potential voice break or a flat note, but there’s nothing impressive about that in her eyes, especially with a song so easy to play with. when there are so many opportunities to add your own colour, if she didn’t, she already knows they’d ask her why. she’d rather do it slightly wrong but try than disappoint by not. maybe that’s her first mistake. maybe that’s not her first mistake, but amongst many. honestly, even with her eyes having reopened during the chorus, contact made with the judges, she can’t think about anything else but getting through this in one piece. anything she’s already sung is forgotten, only what’s spilling from her lips at the time and what’s to come important to her.

thank you to the one who caused her heart to break oh thank you for giving me a soul to save thank you to the one who let her get away

following the bridge, the song drops down to its quietest, softest tone and so does her own voice. it’d been a little too deep for her initially during practice, but by now, she’s found a happy place where she can still capture the mood of such a drastic change, yet confidently pull off the vibe the verse requires.

it only lasts a few seconds before she immediately builds back up to the chorus, her expression, her eyes finally conveying the song’s full desperate gratitude, the immense love the singer has for the woman who has captured his heart. she wonders if she’ll ever experience love like that, like something out of a movie. she’s still young, though; she has so much more to focus on for now, like getting through to the end of this song, to hearing the last piano note echo out over the venue.

you know I wish I could say thank you for all the mistakes thank you for all of the pain I guess somebody else's loss is another's

oh I wish I could say thank you for all the mistakes thank you for all of the pain I guess somebody else's loss is another's gain I'm saying thank you to the one who let her get away, away

she’s breathing heavily when she finally finishes, her back immediately bending into a bow. she doesn’t know how well she’s done, whether she made any glaring mistakes, but it hardly matters. if this is the end of her journey, at least she’ll be leaving with her head held high. she’s proud of the performance she gave, proud of how far she’s come already. everything now is in the hands of the ceos. all she can do now is enjoy everyone else’s performances, will her heart not to jump out her throat. again, she flattens out her dress as she takes her seat. the next performer is already taking to the stage.

she smiles to herself. a voice echoes in her mind. “you worked hard, siyeonie. be proud of yourself.”

I am, grandma. I am.

#rkmga5 #rkmga5skill #* mga5!#* solo!#( wc; 2138 )

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justgenlockthings · 6 years

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gen:VIEW Episode 2, “There’s Always Tomorrow”

Rooster Teeth knows how to make a premiere that packs a punch when it comes to their serialized dramas (yes, I’m including Red vs. Blue in that category). But it’s the non-premiere episodes that generally give you a better idea of if the show’s gonna be good or not.

Or maybe you’re someone like TheFloofArtist and you were predisposed to hate the show long before you even saw it and so found literally every possible reason to hate it from the 2nd episode and dramatically “dropped it” despite the fact that if you hated the show so much you were shitting on it without having seen a single episode your opinion was never gonna be considered valid.

(Why do grown men throw hissy fits about TV shows?)

Ahem...so. Episode 2 of gen:LOCK...

Let’s Get Down To Business

Where episode 1 was about establishing the relationship between Chase and Miranda, this episode seems to be about establishing the gen:LOCK program itself: how it works and who’s gonna be in it. For that reason, at least for the first half, it’s very expository, but not in a way that ever feels boring. Honestly, the longer episode lengths means the amount of time they spend standing around and talking doesn’t feel like vital time wasted, unlike RWBY which has often made that terrible mistake. This is information we need to get a basic understanding of how this program works, and we also get a chance to hear Dr. Weller passionately talking about his life’s work. Jesus christ, David Tennant gives such a good performance. He really sells the good guy mad scientist voice you expect from Dr. Weller.

I wasn’t entirely sold on Michael B. Jordan as a voice actor the previous episode, but even if at certain points it was clear we were watching a scene that hadn’t been initially animated to his voice, this episode convinced me things were gonna be fine. I loved his performance in the scene of Julian in the tank chatting with Migas: the sort of bittersweetness of the reunion between the two after all that had happened to them, but they were still glad to finally see each other again. Miles Luna deserves some praise too for helping sell the fact that this is a reunion. After all, even though we caught a brief moment of them interacting and joking around in Episode 1, we didn’t really have a chance to establish they were close friends. This scene does well to convince us that yes, they were friends, and they are relieved to see each other again.

Chase and Miranda’s situation was very well-handled in this episode. It was always going to be painful for Miranda to find out Chase was still alive, and even though it’s perfectly logical that Chase wasn’t able to reach out to her in the intervening years, it still isn’t something she can just brush over. She didn’t immediately jump at the chance to see him in-person, and actively avoided him for a day. It would have been a major mistake for her to be the first one who went to visit him. I love this whole situation with Miranda: the way the marketing was going you kind of expected just a bland character defined by her relationship with Chase, and, well, I guess what she does in this episode is sort of defined by the relationship, but it’s done in a way that’s actually interesting, where you actually care about how she feels about all this. Dakota Fanning does a great job conveying the hurt Miranda feels seeing someone she loved after so long who she’d given up for dead. I think she might easily be the third best voice actor we’ve heard so far, behind Monica Rial and David Tennant.

Here’s another case where one of my few pre-show expectations got subverted. From the character teasers I’d sort of expected us to get a depiction of the formation of the gen:LOCK program from the start: presumably that path would have followed Chase and Yasamin’s initial training and the early mech designs we saw in the early posters and the first two teasers. Of course, this was before I had known what they were planning with Chase’s crash, a path in the story that I could not have possibly predicted. And now I’m realizing why they didn’t do that: 1) it would have been too similar to RWBY and probably have made for a very slow show otherwise, and 2) they wanted to get right into the giant mechs fighting things. Sure, it sort of robs us of seeing some cool stuff about what it was like for Chase to join the program, but I figure we’ll get that depicted in flashbacks or in the comics.

One of the accusations regarding Kazu Iida was that having him speak Japanese while everyone else was speaking English would create “The Lopez Effect.” For those unaware, Lopez is a robot on Rooster Teeth’s show Red vs. Blue who speaks “Spanish” (really sentences run through Google Translate) that is translated for the audience via subtitles but no one else can understand. Now, for what the complain actually entails, I think “Lopez effect” is a bad term for it because Lopez’s situation is played for laughs while in gen:LOCK everyone understands Iida and doesn’t bat an eye. The complaint is more that it creates a tonal dissonance in what’s designed as a dramatic show: while everyone’s speaking English Kazu’s saying all his lines in Japanese with subtitles. Now, I can understand why that could all sound a little weird, but the thing is the way they set things up in the episode I really don’t think Iida speaking English is gonna be as distracting as one might think: they set it up where the characters can understand what he’s saying thanks to the augmented reality gear everyone seems equipped with, so that already established a method of communication, and I just didn’t give any thought to the fact he’s speaking Japanese for the rest of the episode. I would honestly be more bothered if he just spoke English all the time.

The other accusation is that the fact that he is the only character who speaks a foreign language was they’d have an excuse to get the voice of Spike Spiegel, which apparently is bad because it’s “weeb-baiting.” I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they were trying to draw audiences in with who they were casting...

As far as the new gen:LOCK recruits go, we didn’t get too much information about them, and this is probably the only issue I have with this episode. Still, there was a lot going on here, so I can forgive not learning everything about them in their first appearance. And the thing is, the sequence with the imposter Sinclair (bravo to Blaine Gibson for being able to flip a coin––heheh––from friendly recruit Sinclair to Evil!Sinclair) offered us a good glimpse into who they are as fighters. Especially in recent years, Rooster Teeth fights are a chance to really get an idea for the character (and for that I wholeheartedly thank Monty Oum) and how they handle dangerous situations. Yasamin is clearly someone who can jump into a fight and hold her own without hesitation, Iida is someone who will jump right into a fight, Valentina will keep her distance but can still be quite deadly, and Cammie is a scared little bean...who with a little encouragement can still be helpful.

Now, the Sinclair reveal was a slight bit predictable if you picked up the hints in Character Reveal Teaser 4 (which I hadn’t, and in retrospect was blatantly obvious). The fact that it was predictable was the source of derision by some of the more gen:CRIT crowd, but honestly? I don’t see predictability as a sign of whether something’s good or not. Things can be predictable and still be fun to watch, so long as it’s delivered in an entertaining manner. And we got a pretty awesome fight sequence out of it.

I’ve seen a few people say that the jokes in this show feel forced. I’m inclined to disagree. The type of humor Gray and Evan are employing in the writing is more grounded than the kind you see in RWBY or Red vs. Blue or Camp Camp: it’s designed to feel more natural to the conversations these characters are having, while also not taking attention away from the more serious aspects of the story. Most of Rooster Teeth’s core group (more recent additions less-so) know how to create an engaging story based in serious tones, but they never really stray from their comedy roots––Day 5, their most dramatic venture to date, was a lot funnier than the concept would’ve implied because Josh and Chris knew where to inject humor when it would be desperately needed. This episode isn’t very different: the drama of Chase basically coming back from the dead gets natural moments of levity from his and Migas brief Siege mention and Dr. Weller being disappointed that he couldn’t participate in the reveal; the tension between Chase and Miranda gets a moment where Miranda refuses to hear out Migas on visiting Chase, a moment that can draw laughs while also being realistic to her and Chase’s actual situation; Chase popping up behind Fake!Sinclair and saying “Boo,” which...actually that was more a legit joke, but I laughed really hard. What I mean to say is gen:LOCK is not trying to be a comedy, but Rooster Teeth knows how and when to make its audience laugh.

(save for Red vs. Blue Season 16 of course...)

Conclusions

Another solid episode of gen:LOCK, and a little more interesting one than “The Pilot” because it delves into the meatier stuff that this series is going to follow. Stellar vocal performances by the cast give us a sense of the relationships that need to be picked up in the four years since the war began, and some amazing fighting shows us gen:LOCK means business as an action series.

My only concern is that the way this episode is formatted it doesn’t quite stand on its own in the way “The Pilot” did, but the fact that it was released alongside “The Pilot” worked in its favor, since both episodes give us a good ground to establish what this show is looking to do, and hopefully further episodes will follow on that.

I’ve said enough about people who were predisposed to hate the show commenting on this episode, but I wanna say this also: people. We are two episodes in. The show premiered less than a week ago. There isn’t a whole lot of content to draw from to know where it’s going. Be a little more patient.

#gen:lock #gen:lock spoilers #gen:lock analysis #gen:lock reviews #gen:VIEW #reviews #analysis

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laviedejanelle · 6 years

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Mother Tongue

"I think there is a part of you not being expressed when you're not speaking your own language." - Évelyne Brochu ... Delphine attempts to make herself understood in a world that she is constantly having to translate.

AN: This is my first soirée in the world of Orphan Black fanfiction. I fell in love with Cosima and Delphine years ago when the show first started airing, but my love has been reignited as I binge watch the entirety of the series. It's been a very long time since I've even written any fanfiction, so I hope this does these lovely characters a little bit of justice.

My inspiration was Évelyne talking at PaleyFest 2017 about there being a "part of you not being expressed" when you're not speaking your own language.

Mother Tongue March 22, 2018

It's been hard to get your point across for almost a year now, ever since you stepped off that plane to begin this new chapter of your life. There is a swift line marking the change between before and after: your life in France and the one you lead now, in Canada.

It's been especially hard these past few months - to make sense of your thoughts, put them into words, then translate them into English so you can be understood. Something always seems to get lost along the way and you've found yourself feeling constantly on edge in response; flustered in a way that feels more foreign than you are in this strange place.

You'd been excited, at first: over the moon about the exciting adventure that lay ahead. Canada is a bilingual country, a place where you imagined you could work and live without compromising too much of who you are. But Toronto is different than you'd anticipated, more tourists and bustling city, less of the Français [French] you thought you'd be speaking.

It surprises you how much you crave it - that familiarity - now that you've met her.

But you keep on trying, keep translating as fast as you can in an attempt to avoid those drawn out pauses in conversation that were too frequent in your first months here. You try out new words late at night when you are alone, and even one day find yourself almost saying a few of them to her when she asks you why you've shown up at Felix's loft. Except, none of them ever feel right. They don't make sense in the way that you need them to.

All your life, it's been l'amour [love] and ma chérie [my darling/my sweetheart] and je t'aime [I love you]. Just the taste of the word love is strange and slightly nauseating. It's not quite the right translation, not quite the right phrase for how you feel about her. You are more than just love... you are amoureuse [in love]. It is big and all-encompassing the way you feel about her; so much, so soon, and yet you can't even seem to find it in yourself to feel embarrassed.

Because she is lazy kisses in the slowly rising sunlight and passionate embraces beneath the shelter of the stars. She is the careful travel of fingertips as you explore each others' hands, hips, hair... She is the warm body nestled beneath the covers of your bed and the cold expanse of sheets on the nights that she is elsewhere. You have grown accustomed to the easy routine of falling asleep beside her; the comfortable mornings waking up with your arms wrapped around one another.

You have completely U-Haul-ed she jokingly tells you one day, but that's not the right phrase either. J'ai besoin de toi [I need you], you want to tell her instead, je veux être avec toi pour toujours [I want to be with you forever]. "Tu me rends tellement heureuse," [you make me so happy] you whisper in her ear, afraid that even in a language she doesn't understand, too much could be too much.

Because she's learning the little things, the terms of endearment. She fumbles, yes, and thinks you are calling her a puppy once (when you don't have the heart to tell her it actually means poor little darling, because it's just so cute the way she smiles and chou [cabbage] just doesn't translate to Anglais in the way that you mean it). She pauses when you say something, trying to sort it out before asking for a translation. She doesn't space out as long when you say je t'adore [I adore you], now. She doesn't even falter when you greet her with a bonsoir [good evening] or wish her a bonne nuit [good night].

"Allez," [Let's go] you tell her some (most) mornings, your bag already slung over your shoulder, her clothing still scattered across the bed.

She giggles at your exasperation, a cheeky smile fluttering the butterflies in your stomach. "I told you..." she murmurs, reminding you of that first day she kissed you in her apartment in Minnesota.

"Let's order take out," she suggests from the couch one evening, her head leaned back against the cushions, legs slung over the arm rest. "Ça te dit?" [Sound good?] she tries out, clumsy in her pronunciation but beautiful in her intent.

You leap across the room at her and cover her body with your own. You press fervent kisses to her lips around her giggles, your smile wide when you pull away. "Sounds good," you whisper back, both of you blushing at this weird little franglais thing that keeps occurring within the safety of your home.

Except, you can't help but defy her. And she is strong in her convictions, so she pushes you away despite your best intentions. You infuriate her and she aggravates you, and still you fall back into each other as if you are âmes sœurs[soulmates]. You think you must be, the way your heart beats faster when you see her, the way you know the second she walks into a room; the way her fingers trail across your back, or down your arm, or along your chin each time you separate.

She is your coéquipière [teammate], now. You have forged an alliance. Elle est l'amour de ta vie. [She is the love of your life.] So it's only right that when the moment is finally the moment, when you finally feel ready to tell her exactly how you feel about her... it comes out in your mother tongue.

"Je t'aime," you tell her softly, hoping beyond all beliefs that a translation isn't necessary to convey this. That she can feel it in the spaces you fill together: in the gaps between your fingers, in the breaths between your lips, in the gentle touches and the grandiose attempts for her safety.

Her mouth opens, no sound for a moment before she speaks. Your mind is screaming out, so many more things you want to say to her, so many more words that are just right if you can say them in the correct language. Veux-tu être ma petite-amie? Mon amour sans fin? [Will you be my girlfriend? My endless love?]

"Is that why you didn't tell me that they were Kira's stem cells?" she asks.

Oui, your thoughts whisper, je ne peux pas vivre sans toi. [I can't live without you.] "Yes," you say instead, afraid that it is all still too much.

"Is that why, even before I got here, you gave Dr. Leekie my blood samples? Even though I told you not to?"

Je ne peux pas vivre sans toi. Je ne veux pas. [...I don't want to.]

"Cosima," you breathe, "It's your life." Je t'aimerai pour toujours. [I will always love you.]

Your head spins, your breath hitching in your chest. She must know how far your love for her reaches, how deep it sinks within you, how completely it engulfs you. She must see that everything you do is because you love her, not in spite of it.

"It's not just that, it's all of us. You have to love all of us."

Je vous aime tous. [I love you all.] "Then I love all of you." Je t'aime complètement. [I love you completely.] It's an agreement, an acquiescement, depending on how she takes it... depending how you mean it. Do you love all of them? Or all of her? Or is it both, like you have become - not all English, but not all French, either; that muddy middle ground of Franglais that you forged through together.

"Good. 'Cause if you betray us again I have enough dirt on you to destroy your career."

The laughter bubbles up from within your chest. Together, you are this conundrum of a relationship, this mess that you think is âmes sœurs. She is this beautiful woman who both drives you crazy and ignites a fire within you. She is everything you never expected, a dictionary of words you are learning to translate, a mountain of phrases you will one day whisper to her in any language you please.

She is the one, you know even now, the new defining line of before and after in your life. She has brought you peace amidst the chaos, calmed the flustered feelings that had seemed to be your new constant. You are slowly feeling less foreign in this brave new world; fewer things are lost in translation when you are with her. She is your destiné.

"And I love you, too," she says.

#cosima #cosima niehaus #cosima x delphine #delphine #delphine cormier #cophine #fanfiction #orphan black #orphan black fanfiction

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dfroza · 3 years

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Love will turn the dial back to innocence and pure trust

by moving forward with a new start, an end of what is the past (tense) to shape a new beginning.

and we have to be as children before our heavenly Father no matter what this world acts like, and this is our humility. we are not to fear man and the craziness that exists here, and this is our bravery to trust and believe. and this since this world is not our True Home, but earth is promised to be restored to fully cleanse all that has been done here.

and so for now, we have to keep letting go and keep moving on…

but also remembering the pure genesis root of how our Creator made us on earth in His image, equally as male & female to inhabit garden earth.

and we need to share these truths which is why we have these Scriptures documented.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 14th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians where Paul describes church meetings and prayer, both in unknown tongues and language that is understood:

It is good that you are enthusiastic and passionate about spiritual gifts, especially prophecy. When someone speaks in tongues, no one understands a word he says, because he’s not speaking to people, but to God—he is speaking intimate mysteries in the Spirit. But when someone prophesies, he speaks to encourage people, to build them up, and to bring them comfort. The one who speaks in tongues advances his own spiritual progress, while the one who prophesies builds up the church. I would be delighted if you all spoke in tongues, but I desire even more that you impart prophetic revelation to others. Greater gain comes through the one who prophesies than the one who speaks in tongues, unless there is interpretation so that it builds up the entire church.

My dear friends, what good is it if I come to you always speaking in tongues? But if I come with a clear revelation from God, or with insight, or with a prophecy, or with a clear teaching, I can enrich you. Similarly, if musical instruments, such as flutes or stringed instruments, are out of tune and don’t play the arrangement clearly, how will anyone recognize the melody? If the bugle makes a garbled sound, who will recognize the signal to show up for the battle? So it is with you. Unless you speak in a language that’s easily understood, how will anyone know what you’re talking about? You might as well save your breath!

I suppose that the world has all sorts of languages, and each conveys meaning to the ones who speak it. But I am like a foreigner if I don’t understand the language, and the speaker will be like a foreigner to me. And that’s what’s happening among you. You are so passionate about embracing the manifestations of the Holy Spirit! Now become even more passionate about the things that strengthen the entire church.

So then, if you speak in a tongue, pray for the interpretation to be able to unfold the meaning of what you are saying. For if I am praying in a tongue, my spirit is engaged in prayer but I have no clear understanding of what is being said.

So here’s what I’ve concluded. I will pray in the Spirit, but I will also pray with my mind engaged. I will sing rapturous praises in the Spirit, but I will also sing with my mind engaged. Otherwise, if you are praising God in your spirit, how could someone without the gift participate by adding his “amen” to your giving of thanks, since he doesn’t have a clue of what you’re saying? Your praise to God is admirable, but it does nothing to strengthen and build up others.

I give thanks to God that I speak in tongues more than all of you, but in the church setting I would rather speak five words that can be understood than ten thousand exotic words in a tongue. That way I could have a role in teaching others.

Beloved ones, don’t remain as immature children in your reasoning. As it relates to evil, be like newborns, but in your thinking be mature adults.

For it stands written in the law:

I will bring my message to this people with strange tongues and foreign lips, yet even then they still will not listen to me, says the Lord.

So then, tongues are not a sign for believers, but a miracle for unbelievers. Prophecy, on the other hand, is not for unbelievers, but a miracle sign for believers.

If the entire church comes together and everyone is speaking in tongues, won’t the visitors say that you have lost your minds? But if everyone is prophesying, and an unbeliever or one without the gift enters your meeting, he will be convicted by all that he hears and will be called to account, for the intimate secrets of his heart will be brought to light. He will be mystified and fall facedown in worship and say, “God is truly among you!”

Beloved friends, what does all this imply? When you conduct your meetings, you should always let everything be done to build up the church family. Whether you share a song of praise, a teaching, a divine revelation, or a tongue and interpretation, let each one contribute what strengthens others.

If someone speaks in a tongue, it should be two or three, one after another, with someone interpreting. If there’s no one with the interpretation, then he should remain silent in the meeting, content to speak to himself and to God.

And the same with prophecy. Let two or three prophets prophesy and let the other prophets carefully evaluate and discern what is being said. But if someone receives a revelation while someone else is still speaking, the one speaking should conclude and allow the one with fresh revelation the opportunity to share it. For you can all prophesy in turn and in an environment where all present can be instructed, encouraged, and strengthened. The spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets. For God is the God of harmony, not confusion, as is the pattern in all the churches of God’s holy believers.

The women should be respectfully silent during the evaluation of prophecy in the meetings. They are not allowed to interrupt, but are to be in a support role, as in fact the law teaches. If they want to inquire about something, let them ask their husbands when they get home, for a woman embarrasses herself when she constantly interrupts the church meeting.

Do you actually think that you were the starting point for the Word of God going forth? Were you the only ones it was sent to? I don’t think so! If anyone considers himself to be a prophet or a spiritual person, let him discern that what I’m writing to you carries the Lord’s authority. And if anyone continues not to recognize this, he should not be recognized!

So, beloved friends, with all this in mind, be passionate to prophesy and don’t forbid anyone from speaking in tongues, doing all things in a beautiful and orderly way.

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 14 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 49th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that unveils the promise of God’s restoration:

Listen to this, everyone—near and far:

The Eternal One singled me out, even before I was born.

He called me and named me when I was still in my mother’s belly.

Even then, God was preparing my mouth to speak like a sharp sword.

He kept my purpose quiet, kept me safe in the shadow of His hand,

He crafted me into a sharp-tipped arrow and tucked me away in His quiver;

God said to me, “You are My servant, Israel.

Through you, I will be glorified.”

I said, “I’ve worked hard for nothing.

I spent my strength, and what have I accomplished—nothing,

Yet my justice and reward are secure with my God, the Eternal One.”

And now the Eternal who watched, shaped, and made me His own servant

from the womb has determined to restore Jacob’s family;

Israel will be made right with the Eternal again.

For God has counted me worthy and He has been my strength right along.

Eternal One: As My servant you will do even more than this,

even more than restoring Jacob’s family to Me

And making Israel right with Me again.

I will make you a light for the nations,

And You will illumine them until My salvation reaches to the ends of the earth.

This is what the Eternal One, the Redeemer and Holy One of Israel,

told to the one who is despised and loathed by the nation,

To the servant of national leaders.

Eternal One: At the sight of you, kings will rise and princes will bow down,

for I, the Eternal, faithful and true, the Holy One of Israel, have chosen you.

The Eternal has this to say:

Eternal One: When the time was right, I answered you;

on the day you were delivered, I was your help.

I will watch over you, and give you

as a promise, a binding covenant to the people.

Through you, My gift to the people, the land of promise will recover.

Ancestral ground, once deserted, will be entrusted to them.

Through you, My gift to the people, I will declare to the prisoners,

“Come out. Now you are free”;

To those who are held in darkness, “Come out into the light.”

They will find sustenance wherever they are—

Along the roads or in the open hills—

with peace of mind, in comfort and security.

Wherever they are, they will be fine, never hungry nor thirsty.

They will be protected from oppressive heat and the burning sun

Because the One who loves them—as a mother loves her child—will be their guide.

God will lead them to restful places, rejuvenating springs of water.

I will make their going easy, level the mountain road

and smooth the path that leads them home.

Look! Even now, they are coming from lands far away,

some from the north, others from the west, these from the land of Sinim.

Oh joy! Be glad—sky! Take joy—earth! Burst into song—mountains!

For the Eternal, moved to compassion, has comforted and consoled His people.

Zion: The Eternal One has abandoned me. God has walked out the door;

my Lord left me alone. He has forgotten all about me.

Eternal One: Is it possible for a mother, however disappointed,

however hurt, to forget her nursing child?

Can she feel nothing for the baby she carried and birthed?

Even if she could, I, God, will never forget you.

Look here. I have made you a part of Me, written you on the palms of My hands.

Your city walls are always on My mind, always My concern.

Now sweet Zion your children are running pell-mell back to you

Just as fast as those who destroyed you are leaving.

Raise your head, lift up your eyes,

and watch your heart’s desire come—

All your children, gathered and returning to you. As I live, so I promise.

You will wear them with pride all like shining ornaments;

you will put them on as a bride on her wedding day.

Because of all of your destroyed land—the barren fields and abandoned farms—

you are now too small, too cramped for all your citizens;

And those who tried to swallow you whole will be far, far away.

The children you mourned, those born in exile, will return and say,

“It is too cramped and crowded for us;

We’re going to need more room if we are to live here.”

You’ll say to yourself, “Where in the world did all these people come from?

Could these really be mine?

I thought I’d been desolated, left empty.

Where have you all been? Where did you come from?”

This is what the Lord, the Eternal, has to say:

Eternal One: I will lift My hand and signal every nation that holds your people

And they will bring your children back again:

boys bundled in their arms, girls riding on their shoulders.

Kings will tend the children of Zion, and their queens will nurse and nurture them.

These greats will humble themselves before you.

They will bow and lick the dust off your feet,

and in the course of it all, you will remember that I am the Eternal.

Whoever trusts in Me will never be put to shame.

Jerusalem: Can the spoil of war be taken from the mighty?

Can the captives be freed from the hand of a tyrant?

Eternal One: Hard to believe, but it shall be so.

The captives will be taken from the hand of the mighty,

And the spoil of war will be rescued from the tyrant.

I will liberate them from their captors and contend with your enemies.

I will save your children.

I will turn your enemies’ violence back on themselves,

and they will suffer their own atrocities:

They will feed on their own flesh and drink their own blood like wine.

Then every person on earth will know for certain that I, the Eternal, am your Savior.

I am your hero, the strong One of Jacob from whom you come.

I will rescue you, whatever the price.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 49 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

There are many kinds of love—and not enough words to tell the differences. Hebrew has a word for “love” that is related to its word for a woman’s womb. English has no such word. It is too bad, for it is difficult to describe womb-love, the bearing-and-birthing love of a mother, the kind of love that the Lord has for the people of God’s promise, Jacob’s children. God shaped this people as His own and bound them with no ordinary promise. God loves them in the same way a mother loves the child growing in her womb. It can’t be said so neatly and completely with one “love” word, but that is the idea that threads its way through this text.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, july 27 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the need of having eyes that are open to the wonders of life:

"Only watch yourself, and watch your soul diligently, lest you forget..." (Deut. 4:9a; Deut. 8:11). We are in constant and great need to remember the greatness of God, for when we forget the truth, we lose sight of who we are and why we exist... Therefore we are earnestly admonished to guard our hearts with all diligence, for from the heart flows the streams of life (Prov. 4:23). Forgetfulness leads to apathy and indulgent thinking - a sure recipe for idolatry and despair... On the other hand, as we "practice the presence" of God, we encounter daily miracles and realize that our life comes from above: "In Him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28). If we do not know God in all our ways, we lose touch with the purpose for our lives. If we close our eyes to the wonders of life, we forget both their source and the source of all that exists...

C.S. Lewis related that during his college years he "played with" philosophy as way to show off or gain prestige among his fellow students. One day, however, he overheard a conversation between a Christian acquaintance who was discussing Plato's thinking with another person. As he listened, it suddenly dawned on him that they were discussing philosophy as if it really mattered, as if it could somehow change their lives. Questions about reality, truth, beauty, justice, and so on suddenly became weighty and existential - matters of life and death - and that realization marked a key point in his conversion to Christianity. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.26.21 • Facebook

and another about facing truth:

Just as grace is inaccessible for someone who refuses to be honest with himself, so is forgiveness. If a person refuses to confess the truth about his condition, salvation itself is impossible, since God literally cannot save the soul that denies its need for Him. Therefore the Scripture does not vainly declare: "Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but the one who confesses and forsakes them will find mercy" (Prov. 28:13).

A person who “conceals” his sin denies it, either by outright disavowal or by explaining it away by offering self-deceptive excuses. This person simply cannot prosper – in the spiritual sense of the word – because he is not living in reality... Indeed, his conscience is burdened with a “secret ban,” an inner voice of condemnation that must be suppressed and squelched. It is only the person who comes to the light, who acknowledges the truth of his sin and who is anxious to be free of its effects, who will be shown mercy (i.e., rachamim (רַחֲמִים), which comes from the word rechem (רֶחֶם), “womb”).

Note that God alone has the prerogative to cover or atone for sin, as an expression of His grace, but it is never fitting for someone to atone for his own sin in order to exonerate himself. God’s anger over sin is not appeased when sin is minimized, dismissed, excused, or rationalized away (though the LORD delights when we overlook the offenses of others). This is because all sin is an offense against God and represents a breach of the relationship between the sinner and God. Your sin, in other words, hurts not only yourself and other people, but most significantly, it wounds the very heart of God Himself by causing a breach or separation in your relationship with Him. Therefore we see Yeshua forgiving others for sins they have committed against other people as if He were the offended party in the sin. As C.S. Lewis once wrote, “He told people that their sins were forgiven, and never waited to consult all the other people whom their sins had undoubtedly injured. He unhesitatingly behaved as if He was the party chiefly concerned, the person chiefly offended in all offenses. This makes sense only if He really was the God whose laws are broken and whose love is wounded in every sin” (Mere Christianity, 1952).

In this evil world, it may sometimes seem that crime “pays,” but certainly not before the Divine Presence, and in the world to come, every word and deed will be fully accounted before the bar of God’s justice and truth. But even in this world, the sinner is secretly haunted by his conscience; he is driven to madness, hidden despair, and lives in dread and anxiety over the truth he conceals... It has been said that the problem with “getting away with it” is that you indeed “get away with it,” meaning that your sin will follow you as doggedly as your own shadow in this world... Ultimately sin is a form of cowardice, since it hides in fear from the light of truth. Unconfessed sin leads to anxiety, paranoia, and weakness of the soul...

I have mentioned that one of the reasons God announced the Ten Commandments was because it was His way of saying, "I know who you really are, I see you..." This is why the people drew back in terror, because they realized that God saw the inner condition of their heart, exposed it, and shined the light of moral truth upon it. Nonetheless it is a great and ongoing credit to the Jewish people that they were willing to receive the revelation at Sinai, since it demonstrates that they were genuinely willing to be honest with themselves. Despite their many subsequent failures, they still revered the truth of God’s Torah and meticulously preserved the revelation for future generations (Rom. 3:1-2).

Again, a person who denies or excuses his sin simply cannot prosper – in the spiritual sense of the word – because he refuses to live in reality... Confessing the truth about yourself – owning your behavior, taking personal responsibility, refusing to blame others, and so on, leads to real prosperity, spiritual blessing and true inner peace. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.27.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 27, 2021

A Debtor to Grace

“For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not.” (Romans 7:18)

All too often we find ourselves as frustrated as the apostle Paul in that we often know to do the right thing, to abstain from a particular sin, but we quickly fall right back into that sin. We must daily recognize our sinful habits and determine in our hearts, with strength from the Holy Spirit, to withstand the sin, to overcome temptation. “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin” (Romans 7:25). The writer of “Come Thou Fount” had the same frustration.

O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!

Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love;

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

Scripture tells us we are secure in Christ, never to be separated. Christ informed His disciples that “my sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand” (John 10:27-29). We are safe in Christ’s hand surrounded by the Father’s hand. And then the transaction is sealed by “the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption” (Ephesians 4:30).

Take courage. We are secure in Him. JDM

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blogsureshus · 4 years

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Language Translation Service

Our ancestors were very good at wandering places and searching for new things. Since man found how to make pictures with color or ink on any surface, he has conveyed himself with unique patterns and pictures, etc. As our ancestors who drew with different things like charcoal on stone or cut in wood. Later when languages were made, we started communicating with short messages printed by hand or by an instrument. But still, there are so many languages now that you can’t count on your fingers. Therefore the invention of the language translation service comes in our rescue. Language Translator is a job for people who are comfortable speaking up in a foreign environment, who can understand people very easily and correctly. Because of the main responsibility of the

Back then they had many sign languages but not many verbal languages which made it easier for them to work and live all around. but now is the time when people do not stop themselves from going out from their native places just because they don’t know foreign languages.

Numerous individuals new to interpretation and limitation are in some cases confounded by the language. This blog entry will assist clear with increasing the perplexity with the frequently tradable terms “interpretation” and “limitation” just as other phrasing related to the interpretation business.

Language Translation Service is also a part of marketing. It can be looked at as an organizational function and a set of processes for creating, delivering and communicating value to customers, and managing customer relationships in ways that also benefit the organization and its shareholders. Marketing is the science of choosing target markets through market analysis and market segmentation, as well as understanding consumer buying behavior and providing superior customer value.

I will not talk much about marketing as I already have a fully focused article on it if you wish to read it Click Here.

We are talking so much about Language Translation Service you must be wondering…..

What is Language Translation Service?

Interpretation is a type of limitation. It includes the interpretation of names, manuals, preparing recordings, advertisements, and sites into nearby dialects. To spare costs, a few organizations build up their manuals and preparing materials in different dialects, including English, Mandarin, Hindi, French, Spanish and Arabic. Corporate sites must be interpreted, particularly the oftentimes utilized web-based business and help areas. Moving administrators ought to figure out how to impart in the neighborhood language or possibly see a portion of the subtleties of nonverbal correspondence. Senior administration ought to think about the utilization of synchronous interpreters in gatherings with their worldwide accomplices, particularly if some of them are not open to convey in English.

“Language Service Providers” or “LSP’s” have been around for quite a long time. All the more normally in the US, LSP’s are known as Translation Agencies. The term LSP is increasingly regular in Europe yet is presently being heard here in the US all the more frequently.

Types of Language Translation Services:-

Language Service Providers (LSP) are organizations that offer to change degrees of interpretation, elucidation, limitation, language and social training arrangements. LSP’s commonly offer the accompanying administrations:

Interpretation “spoken”-

Language translation is the helping of verbal or communication through signing collaboration, either simultaneously or over and again, between individuals talking in various ‘dialects’. There are a few different ways of translation including back to back and concurrent. Back to back Interpretation – This is the point at which the speaker (for instance an educator, teacher or a court judge) represents a couple of moments and afterward breaks, enabling the translator to interpret the information exchanged into the other language. At the point when the mediator is done translating the speaker proceeds with where he/she left off.

Localization-

Localization is the adjustment of item configuration, bundling and showcasing capacities to suit nearby markets. Item changes might be important to represent social contrasts and neighborhood guidelines. For instance, a café franchiser may need to change its menu for a nation that limits the clearance of particular sorts of meat. Notwithstanding interpretation from English to the neighborhood language on item names, organizations may need to change the substance or the size of their items to agree to nearby guidelines. Advertising efforts may require changes to regard social contrasts. For instance, specific sorts of outfits or open presentations of love may not be proper in certain nations, albeit a business highlighting polar bears skiing down mountain slants with refreshments in their grasp would work anyplace.

Telephonic Translation-

Telephone translation is the communication between individuals through a telephone who don’t communicate in a similar language. The translator encourages the two gatherings to speak with one another.

Simultaneous Translation-

Understanding is the point at which the speaker/moderator doesn’t stop, however, he continues talking at a characteristic speed. Regularly this kind of deciphering happens during gatherings or enormous gatherings. During gatherings, the translators (of different dialects) as a rule are altogether situated in a deciphering stall. The mediator hears what the speaker is stating through a headset and afterward deciphers into an amplifier. The target group of the understanding hears what the translator is stating through their earphones.

It is most basic when your home office needs to prop the discussion up with branch workplaces in different nations. TrueLanguage can combine you with local speakers in whatever target markets you have to reach over the worldwide commercial center. We can deal with interpreters for occasions went to by gatherings of any size or multi-day meetings for many members.

Localization and interpretation administrations ought to appreciate solid interest outside of their borders. Organizations may confront rivalry for qualified interpreters who are capable of different dialects. Agency should begin with a website design that can deal with various languages and character sets from day one.

3 Ways Translation Service can Benefit your Business?

Helps your Business to connect Emotionally- Clients who are sincerely associated with an item are progressively gainful. What’s more, if you need to associate with your clients on a passionate level, you should know their first language.

It helps you to rank on SEO- Website optimization, which is great to work together on the web. Ensuring that your site arrives at the highest point of web search. Powerful correspondence is improved when clients can peruse your site in their language; helpful data is accessible to a more extensive crowd; having a bigger site (another page for every language).

Makes your Business accessible with Transcription- Numerous online advertising efforts incorporate the utilization of online recordings. Sound digital broadcasts ought to have a translation accessible for the hard of hearing. However, it additionally enlarges your group of spectator’s reach, improves brand dependability, and lifts SEO. There are products motivation to remember interpretation for any sound or video content your business produces.

6 Methods to accelerate your Business through Language Translation Service

So your business is doing incredible and you wish to grow it further internationally? Worldwide presentation is conceivable just on the off chance that you prepare it for it. Business correspondence with numerous nations requests skill and accuracy. Regardless of whether you have a place with open or private division, you need proficient language interpretation administrations for reasons multiple. Peruse on.

Better correspondence with clients:

If your business calls for discussing straightforwardly with your clients then you must’ve confronted many individuals who don’t communicate in English. You can showcase your items to a lot more extensive range of a group of spectators if you could address them in their language.

Upgrade brand permeability: An organization’s image potential is tried based on a ton of capacities. Connecting with an ever-increasing number of individuals is one of them. You have to cross the boundary of language to fabricate a picture in the worldwide market and that is conceivable just with proficient interpretation administrations.

Maintain a strategic distance from terrible notoriety:

You will be stunned to gain proficiency with a portion of the significant showcasing slip-offs of enormous undertakings. KFC got their celebrated slogan “Finger-Lickin’ Good” interpreted in China and it signified “We’ll eat your finger off”. Pepsi got its slogan “Wake up with Pepsi” meant “Pepsi can bring progenitors resurrected!” in China. The American Dairy Association’s unique slogan “Got milk?” was mocked in Mexico as the interpretation signified “Are you lactating?” Numerous such comparative cases welcomed a great deal of fire from individuals over the globe. You can avoid the projectile and upkeep your image notoriety by getting your promoting procedures checked or composed by the experts before it’s past the point of no return.

The social insurance industry is tremendously profited:

Healthcare units need to manage plenty of patients originating from different nations. Likewise, there are a ton of specialists over the globe occupied with inquiring about. Language ought to never be a hindrance to medicinal research or a patient’s treatment. Proficient restorative mediators and interpreters play their aces in deciphering the medicinal reports that will help the specialists who are progressively agreeable in contemplating in the language they pick.

More opportunities for work:

many individuals are enthusiastic about learning various dialects. Nothing can be better if they can learn and gain simultaneously. Any industry, little or large, procures interpreters and mediators to not just facilitate their business correspondence with different nations yet in addition to advertising and venture coordination.

Drafting authoritative documents:

Understanding authoritative reports itself is a tough assignment and on the off chance that it’s in an alternate language, at that point it gets even more convoluted. One sneak off and the importance of the sentence changes totally. Proficient interpreters guarantee precise and simple translation of authoritative records adjusted to the expert needs of legal counselors, court stenographers, lawyers, judges, and other legitimate experts.

Why Language Translation Service is important to your Business?

Interpretation is fundamentally critical to any association needing to catch universal markets.

Proficient interpreters with experience and training will help you with speaking with individuals from different nations. They will work in their first language to create writings that will precisely repeat your image’s message and style of the first content, while simultaneously perusing fluidly in the goal language.

With the best possible instruments, interpretation can surrender you a leg against your rivals, help make purchasers progressively OK with your image, and eventually construct solid notoriety in another market, all of which will guarantee long haul achievement.

Is Language Translation Service is for you?

If you are familiar with more than one language and can productively make an interpretation of starting with one language then onto the next, a speaker giving interpretation administrations could be the ideal independent company for you. Here is the thing that you have to know before you choose if this business thought is an ideal choice for you.

The Pros of Starting a Translation Services BusinessA portion of the advantages you may be understanding on the off chance that you start an interpretation administration include:

Startup costs are low.

It’s an extraordinary locally established business, particularly because you can work utilizing the Internet.

Overhead expenses are low, and you can make critical benefits.

You have an extremely wide target advertise, including legitimate, business, restorative, specialized altering, translation and that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

There is a developing interest in interpreters in our worldwide network.

You can work solo, or deal with a gathering of interpreters, regardless of whether you are not an interpreter yourself.

The Cons of Starting a Translation Services BusinessA portion of the potential difficulties of beginning an interpretation business include:

You should have total and exhaustive order of whatever dialects you intend to offer interpretation administrations for.

Among your opposition might be modernized interpretation projects and voice acknowledgment innovation.

It can require some investment to build up the business, contingent upon your area.

You might need to get guaranteed before offering your administrations.

You need standard office hardware, incorporating a PC with an Internet association and conceivably interpretation gear if you will do sound interpretation from tapes.

Step-by-Step Guide to Become a Language Translator?1. Concentrate your source language widely.

To begin with, you should choose a language and study it widely.

There’s interpretation work accessible for almost any living language, and there’s a contention to be made for adapting essentially any language you can name. Normally, there are additionally interpreting work accessible for the most widely recognized dialects. In any case, since more individuals know these dialects, there’s additionally more challenge for work. While there might be fewer occupations for less regular dialects, realizing one could make you stand apart from the group and give you access to employments that fewer individuals can perform.

To pick a language, you should think about exploring what occupations are out there.

2. Get particular preparing.

The truth of the matter is that regardless of whether you’re familiar with a language, it doesn’t mean you have what it takes to decipher.

Having the option to give clear, effective interpretation frequently requires specific preparing notwithstanding language study. Here are a few alternatives to consider:

3. Get ensured.

the most effective method to turn into an interpreter

An affirmation in interpretation is a simple method to show you have what it takes important to take the necessary steps.

Something else to consider is getting non-language-related accreditations in a field in which you’re keen on interpreting. For example, turning into a guaranteed paralegal could assist you with getting deciphering work in the legitimate field by indicating that you comprehend the business. Thus, being an affirmed attendant may assist you with getting restorative interpretation work.

4. Focus on a particular industry and learn industry-explicit terms.

When you’re familiar with a language, you’ll additionally need to target industry-explicit terms for anything that field you’re keen on working in.

Only being familiar doesn’t generally give the pertinent wording you’ll have to interpret, so you’ll have to place some extra concentration into industry-explicit phrasing.

For example, you should think about considering words that are especially vital in medication, business, government or training. There are a few different ways to do this.

5. Sharpen your Computer aptitudes.

A great deal of deciphering requires utilizing explicit computer programs. This is intended to make the interpretation procedure faster and increasingly productive. Normal projects utilized by proficient interpreters that you should acquaint yourself with include:

6. Get some understanding.

One of the unfeeling incongruities of deciphering and most other professional fields is that to land most positions, you as of now need work involvement with the field, leaving you with a problem—how would you get that involvement with the primary spot?

the most effective method to turn into an interpreter

The appropriate response is more straightforward than you may suspect. Agreement or independent work is a simple method to get some understanding to add to your resume. Your initial barely any gigs probably won’t pay just as you’d like, however, once you get more understanding added to your repertoire, you can typically get increasingly more pay for your administrations.

7. To additionally develop your profession, adapt more dialects.

If you need to make yourself significantly progressively attractive, you should procure more dialects that you can interpret between to grow your scope of contributions.

For example, suppose you’re completely conversant in Chinese and can interpret among Chinese and English. Nonetheless, consider the possibility that you likewise figured out how to add Spanish to your scope of contributions. Presently, you could interpret from Spanish to English or Chinese to English. In the end, it’s conceivable that you may even have the option to convert into Chinese or potentially Spanish, in this way increasing your potential interpretation choices and making yourself progressively employable. How’s that for vocation development?

Following is all that you have to think about a vocation as a mediator and interpreter with heaps of subtleties. As an initial step, investigate a portion of the accompanying occupations, which are genuine occupations with genuine bosses. You will have the option to see the genuine activity vocation necessities for bosses who are effectively enlisting.

Go live your dream of connecting people by giving them the words

Do tell us in the comment section below what’s the surprising part about the Language Translation Service in this blog?

More than 19 Years of experience in Designing, Printing and Advertising sector. I own an Enterprises named “Shivani Enterprises”. It’s a commercial Designing, Printing and Advertising Company. Deals in complete designing, printing, advertising, corporate gifting, business collateral material services solutions (designing, offset, digital, screen printing, signage printing, corporate gifting material, event material printing, etc.). We are an exporter of printing and publishing materials. Write a blog on printing tech, tricks and strategy is my passion. We are suited at 249/2, opposite Vasant Vihar Bus Depot, Munirka New Delhi -110067, near Indira Gandhi International Airport, India. We provide our services in Pan India and all major countries in the World.

#shivanienterprises.com #shivanienterprises #Designing #Printing #Advertising

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scannain · 7 years

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The New Music is a new Irish feature film currently in post-production. The film aims to shine a light on Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease, a rare and little known condition which affects people under fifty.

Young Parkinson’s Ireland, which was set up in 2016, suspect that there may be at least 500 undiagnosed sufferers of Young Onset Parkinson’s in the country. Sufferers who may be reluctant to come forward due to a self or socially imposed stigma as Parkinson’s Disease has been traditionally seen as a “old person’s” disease.

The film, which is written and directed by Italian native Chiara Viale, follows the struggles of Adrian, a young gifted musician , who leaves home and heads to Dublin in an attempt to deal with the news of his diagnosis. Despite this debilitating condition, Adrian (played by Dublin-born actor Cilléin McEvoy) joins a punk band as a keyboard player and rediscovers his life through music and friendship.

Filming was completed at the end of 2017 and the production team have launched a crowd-funding campaign to reach out to the public to help them fund the post-production expenses of the film – editing, sound, music, marketing and festival entries. 20% of all funds raised will go directly to Young Parkinson’s Ireland in addition to all future income from the film.

Scannain caught up with Viale to talk about about her background in film and her motivations for making The New Music

Chiara Viale- Writer/Director of The New Music

How did you originally get involved in Filmmaking? I started writing when I was very young and I have always been passionate about cinema. After finishing my BA in English in foreign language and literature I moved to Ireland and joined the Dublin Filmmakers Collective where I developed my first scripts and had my first on-set experiences. At the same time, I started developing my own independent projects: in 2016 I produced, wrote and directed my first short film Be Frank which was nominated for the Rising Star award at the Underground Cinema Awards in 2017. Also in 2017 I produced, wrote and directed the short Clown and produced the short Clear The Air which are currently in post production.

And what brought you to Ireland? I’ve been in love with Ireland since I first visited as a teenager. After secondary school I spent a year in Dublin working as an au-pair to improve my English. I had always entertained the thought of coming back to Ireland and I finally moved to Dublin in 2015. I am in love with the creative atmosphere that can breath in this country and the extraordinary people I met along the way. I don’t believe my dreams and aspirations could find a better place than Ireland to become a reality.

Where did the core idea for The New Music originate? My approach to writing is strongly related to feelings and emotions and more often than not the concepts of my stories are born through an image, which conveys a certain feeling. The New Music is no exception: I imagined a character who is lying to himself and the people he cares about and although he knows that these lies can ruin everything he has and loves, he can’t stop. Telling the truth is simply too hard for him to handle, because it would force him to face his own fear.

I envisioned a character with an incurable illness which he hides from everyone and that is eating away at him from the inside. Then I created a starting environment for him that would completely clash with the situation he finds himself in and I imagined something to cure his fear and give him a new prospective on life. This is a film about friendship and it shows that help can often come from people who are not necessarily trying to understand, but who show a way out of suffering by simply being a good, reliable influence.

I wanted to create a story with believable characters dealing with issues that everyone experiences sooner or later in life. I wanted to paint a picture of Dublin exactly as it is right now, and how it is to live in a shared house where everyone forgets to buy toilet paper or to get lost using the Dublin map. I wanted to tell the story of all the people who are trying to make art and music here while coping with our money-controlled society.

What is your connection to Young Parkinson’s , why did you choose this particular condition? Adrian is a pianist and his talent is expressed through the use of his hands. I wanted his illness to target his ability to play and after a short research, I discovered Young Onset Parkinson’s, a rare form of Parkinson’s that affects people under the age of 50. Parkinson’s is widely considered a disease that affects the elderly, and I was surprised to learn that lots of young people all over the word are suffering from it.

At this early stage I decided that The New Music had to be about this illness and it could contribute to raise awareness and shine a light on this condition.

Together with Philip Kidd (Producer, Director of Photography, Editor) we decided to contact the Parkinson’s Association of Ireland, who put us in touch with Young Parkinson’s Ireland, with whom we’ve been working with ever since. Representatives of Young Parkinson’s Ireland read and approved the script at pre-production stage and we are currently developing the film in association and close contact with them. At the end of 2017 we started a crowdfunding campaign to cover the post-production expenses of The New Music, 20% of which is being donated to Young Parkinson’s Ireland. Furthermore, we will donate any future income of the film to this association and use the film for charity purposes.

I also have a very close personal experience with rare diseases as my father passed away in 2013 after having MSA (Multiple System Atrophy) a rare neurological disease for which, like Parkinson’s, there is no ultimate cure. In this script I dealt with feelings that my family and I experienced first hand. I also attempted to give my interpretation of what someone afflicted by an incurable disease might feel, and how the ensuing feelings and behaviours impact everyone around them. I hope that The New Music will have the power to bring people together and create a space where these issues can be discussed, as well encourage a conversation around both living and dealing with rare diseases.

Munky- Irish Punk Band

So obviously music plays a huge part in the film, can you tell me more about that? The second constitutive element of my writing has always been music. I consider it a huge source of inspiration and The New Music is fulfilling my dream of writing a story that revolves around music from beginning to end.

In the last few years I’ve been influenced a lot by punk music as a genre but mostly in terms of lifestyle and attitude. The film itself was produced with a strong DIY mindset and the narrative arc of the main character freely represents my own discovery of punk music as a form of liberation and a way to fully express myself artistically. During the writing process I’ve been influenced by bands such as Bomb The Music Industry! , The Smith Street Band, Fugazi, Black Flag, Bad Brains, The Menzingers and Bangers.

Music is the passion shared by all the main characters of the story and it permeates every scene. It firstly represents the desperation felt by Adrian, then it slowly becomes what carries him through the darkness towards the light and a new version of himself. The film shows two types of music that are usually considered opposites: classical and punk. Both play a huge roles in the film and find a way to merge together as the two diametrically different spheres of Adrian’s life find a meeting point. Grand pianos, dusty rehearsal rooms, microphones and wires, music shops and gigs; everything in this film is about music and the love that each character has for it in their own way.

The film features two original songs composed by Zachary Stephenson of Munky and we are currently putting together a soundtrack made of both classical and punk music, featuring mostly unsigned independent artists such as Bangers, Müg (UK) , Antillectual( Netherlands) and Checkpoint, Forgotten Soldier and Declan Byrne who are all from Ireland. Shit Present ( UK) and Irish act Givamanakick are in talks about coming on board.

What are your cinematic influences? I’d imagine Italian cinema plays a big part? I grew up without a TV because my parents were against having one in the house, but we used to have a VHS player attached to a monitor, strictly used to watch films together. Both my parents loved cinema, and I remember watching italian classics of directors such as De Sica, Rossellini, Scola and Tornatore. I also watched cinema classics with my grandparents. I became an avid reader at a young age and soon I started writing my own stories for my friends to read. I took inspiration from books, comics, Japanese cartoons that I would watch with my friends and music. One of my first dream jobs was to write for music videos.

It took a few more years for me to develop a proper taste for cinema, but to this day the vital element of a film to me is still storytelling. I love those films that tell a story the same way as I wish I did, that put an accent on the psychological development of characters and can capture me emotionally. Directors such as Krzysztof Kieślowski, Anton Corbijn, Gus Van Sant, Nicolas Winding Refn, Tony Richardson, Jeff Nichols and Ben Wheatley have been a major influence on me both narratively and aesthetically.

Are there any Irish filmmakers at the moment that you are interested in? I love Jim Sheridan’s films and Martin McDonagh as a filmmaker (and playwright). I also really enjoyed the productions made by Cartoon Saloon. There are a good number of Irish films that I watched through the years and that really stuck with me, such as: Inside I’m Dancing, I Went Down, The Commitments, The Wind That Shakes The Barley, Breakfast On Pluto and Once. I am looking forward to Mark O’Rowe’s The Delinquent Season.

Look out for the trailer for The New Music which is out in the coming weeks. You can follow the cast and crew on their social media channels below and most importantly if you want to donate to the cause just click here.

Follow the film’s progress on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube.

Cilléin McEvoy – lead

Chiara Viale- director

The New Music- Upcoming Irish Feature shines a light on Young Onset Parkinson's Disease The New Music is a new Irish feature film currently in post-production. The film aims to shine a light on Young Onset Parkinson's Disease, a rare and little known condition which affects people under fifty.

#Ben Wheatley #Irish Film #Jeff Nichols #Parkinson&039;s Disease #Punk

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