#friendless introvert

[1eos]

the fact that humanity has been around for centuries but ppl still have a hard time understanding you can be nice and an introvert just let's me know collectively as a species we are not that smart 😭😭😭

[life-is-pulchritudinous]

I want friends but school eats up so much of my time. And being afraid of starting a conversation and afraid of watching it crumble and end before it even really starts. Meh 😒🙃😔

[cringe-time]

I feel like I’m trapped in a fucking social desert. I only have 2 real friends not counting my sister and they’re both busy all the time and don’t live near me. I wanna make more friends but all my coworkers are old enough to be my parents and they’re all Trump supporters, and it feels like every local event I go to will be the same. You can’t go to a crochet group at a local library in the suburbs and expect to find people your age there. Same with gardening stuff- it’s all in the morning and- first of all- I don’t wanna drive all the way out there first thing in the morning, and second of all, no one else my age will either. I tried bumble bff and only got like 3 matches, none of them messaged me, so I have to message them but I don’t expect to hear back. I just want friends near me so I turned off the toggle to show me people farther away if I run out, and I actually ran out. I feel like my last hope is to go thrifting or to the coffee shop by my house by myself, but I feel like everyone there is just gonna be focused on what they’re doing and they’re gonna assume that I am too and I don’t wanna be bothered. I’m desperate at this point I don’t know what to do

[sparsilees]

tom riddle is a yapper. he loves his monologues and dramatics.

draco malfoy is a yapper. he, too, loves the sound of his voice and dramatics.

ron weasley has no qualms about being loud and seen. he grew up in a large household, fighting to be heard over his siblings.

harry potter grew up in a cupboard, friendless except for the spiders, and learned to subdue and suppress and submit at the dursleys. he isn’t loud, he isn’t boisterous, he isn’t talkative, he doesn’t like socialising, he keeps his opinions in his head and his feelings buried inside, he has very few close friends, he doesn’t reveal his worries and struggles easily, he dislikes showing his pain and weakness, and he sure doesn’t give up his secrets and personal details freely, sometimes not even to ron and hermione.

this is what canon harry’s like—very quiet and an introvert, someone who speaks when spoken to or has cause to broadcast his voice, and someone who’d rather blend into the walls than draw unnecessary attention to himself.

[evergone]

Lonely

Theodore Nott x Legilimens! reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Description: The reader has no friends until destiny (in the form of a boy named Theodore Nott) does everything to make her feel like she belongs.

In your first year, you were put in a dorm by yourself. You heard so many times that this was a gift — a sign of your good fortune, Professor Trelawney said — as everyone else in your year group had to share with someone else, but you, the introvert you were, were left to your own devices. Despite these assumptions, you quickly discovered that sharing a dorm was central to establishing friendships, and you spent the vast majority of your high school life friendless and alone.

At times, your boredom and your loneliness were so all-encompassing that you would read the minds of the first years who you knew wouldn’t be capable of sensing the imposition upon their thoughts. None of them thought of much. The boys were preoccupied with daydreams of girls and music (most of them were very into hip-hop as was the popular culture of the nineties), and the girls were nearly all stressing about parties and school work.

You were as much at ease with your situation as one could possibly be. You were of the mindset that if there was nothing you could do about it, why bother? Everyone had their cliques, their friends, and you were just the one to be left out. Your only goal was to get through the remaining year, then you would leave school, rent a house somewhere obscure, become a writer or an archaeologist or something else fun, and start your life over again. But it appeared that destiny had other plans.

Destiny, that supreme, omniscient, omnipotent concept that dwindled above and twisted within the interactions of all peoples, came to you in a free period you were spending in the library. The period before had been Charms, but that was of no consequence, neither was the fact that you had no more classes until later that night when you would make the journey to the Astronomy tower. You were sitting at a desk in the far left corner of the library, tucked between the pages of a number of books written by Z-named authors of some incredibly niche portion of history when Madam Pince’s high-pitched and troubled voice disturbed your rather unproductive attempts to finish your homework.

Ever bored, and hardly ever entertained, you leant to the side to see around the long bookcase. To your surprise, your eyes immediately met with a pair of blue ones. The irises were mere spots lost in the oceans of colour and they darted between you and Madam Pince, desperate for assistance. Behind those eyes, you could hear his mind asking for your help. If you was slightly smarter, you would’ve avoided this person’s gaze altogether and returned to your work.

“Madam Pince,” you said before allowing yourself a moment to think, and the frustrated librarian’s head turned to you in owl-like frustration, “Is everything okay?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice an angry whisper, “Mr Nott should be in class, instead, he’s here violating my books!”

You glanced at the owner of the eyes. The green lining of his robe told you he was from your house, so you knew him even if only from afar. He hung out with the big group of your housemates most of the time, but you’d observed that he often sat by himself in the common room and the others intruded on his personal time. He was tall — probably six feet or so — and thin, with hair that was darker than blond, but most definitely not as dark as some of his friends’ hair. In the traditional sense, he was handsome, but you’d heard him speak in class before, and his voice bore an awkward intonation as if to speak was to curse which made him seem almost as nerdy as yourself. Despite this, every movement he made seemed elegant no matter his emotion, this was so inherent of a feature that even in that moment — when he was so clearly itching to turn and run — he was like a swan. His name was Theodore Nott, and you’d never spoken to him before.

“He’s supposed to be helping me with my homework,” you blurted out and Madam Pince quirked a pencilled-on eyebrow, “You know I’m terrible with, uh, Ancient Runes.” You both had that class together.

“Yeah,” nodded Theo as he stepped around her and stood by your side, “The professor said it was okay, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”

“As am I,” she frowned, “Tell her not to let this happen again.”

“Yes, Madam.”

With an irritated hum, she left the two of you alone. Theo turned to face you once she was out of earshot, and let out a sigh of relief before sitting down on the edge of the desk you were at.

“You’re in Slytherin,” he said obviously, “What year?”

You sucked in a breath of air, “Sixth. Yours.”

“Oh.”

His brain exploded with a million thoughts at once, his conscious and subconscious fighting for dominance. You could hear the embarrassment as he reprimanded himself for not knowing, and the confusion as he searched his memories for some sign that he had, in fact, seen you before.

“We have Potions together, and Astronomy, and Divination, and Ancient Runes, and… most of our classes, actually.” You shrugged without a care.

Theo cringed, “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before.”

“I don’t really make my presence known,” you said, “So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Theodore Nott,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched towards you, “What’s your name? I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“Y/n L/n,” you said and shook his hand. It was soft and had no callouses at all.

“I best be off, I’m missing Arithmancy.”

“Boring.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled and left the library.

Over the course of that afternoon, you were unable to tear your mind away from Theo, and none of your homework was completed as a result. You didn’t go to dinner in the Great Hall. Your mind was much too preoccupied to eat.

At eleven-thirty, your alarm sounded, and you washed your face in preparation for Astronomy. Professor Sinistra demanded that all her students wore their uniforms for her classes, even if said classes were at midnight, but there wasn’t a single person who ever did that other than Hermione Granger. Everyone else tended to pull their robes overtop their pyjamas and call it a day, yourself included.

The lesson wasn’t all that interesting as Sinistra had the class chart some stars for the whole hour. However, you barely managed to get anything done because you were so distracted by Theo who was sitting peacefully at the opposite side of the tower amongst his friends. Including Theo, there were five of them (you didn’t include Crabbe and Goyle, who you always thought were less friends than goons, or Millicent Bulstrode or Tracey Davis, both of whom you knew were periodically hated by the others). Two girls, three boys.

Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and finally, Theo. At seventeen, his hair was a mostly consistent length of woody brown curls that sat fluffily on his head — if anything it was maybe a bit shorter on the sides. His eyebrows were thick as they always were, and in that particular Astronomy lesson, they were hard pressed against the tips of his long eyelashes that seemed almost too feminine to belong to him. By far the most intriguing and attractive aspect of Theo was, of course, the prominent mole on his left cheek that stole your attention away from a tight-lipped smile he had thrown your way.

Your immediate reaction was to blush and avert your eyes, but upon glancing back and noticing he was still staring, you offered him a short wave. He nodded in response before turning to Draco and saying something too far away for you to hear.

The next morning, or, perhaps, later that morning is the right expression, you went to breakfast in the Great Hall. Not having eaten dinner the night prior had left you so completely starving. You could’ve eaten a pegasus. You sat down on the edge of the Slytherin table by yourself, and loaded a plate with two eggs, about five slices of bacon (it very well could have been more, your memory isn’t perfect), a piece of toast, and a spoonful of baked beans.

“Where are all your friends?”

You looked up to see Theo standing over you chewing on the end of a breadstick.

“Why do you ask?” you questioned.

“Because you’re sitting here by yourself and it looks a bit pathetic, L/n,” laughed Theo teasingly.

“I don’t really have any friends.”

“Oh,” said Theo, “Sorry I asked.”

You shrugged, and as he glanced to the middle of the table you shoved as much of the baked beans into your mouth as possible, and quickly swallowed them. Merlin’s beard, you were so embarrassed.

“Give me a sec,” he said absentmindedly and you almost thought to use your Legilimency on him, “I’ll be right back.”

He placed his breadstick in front of you as if it were a deposit meant to reassure you that he’d be back, but you weren’t fazed either way. You watched as he jogged over to his group of friends and started chatting with them, but never sat down. With his right hand, he motioned back at you, and you glanced away as the rest of them turned to get a good look at you. Suddenly, you were concerned about how well your makeup was applied, and if your uniform looked good, and if there was still too much food on your plate. And then, all of them stood up with their plates, and followed Theo over to sit around you.

Most of them sat on the other side of the table, but Theo sat next to you, and Blaise by his other side. He introduced you to everyone: Goyle, Crabbe, Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, himself (“but you know me already,” he’d joked).

“It’s crazy to think we don’t know you despite being in the same house as you for the past six years,” said Daphne and Pansy elbowed her in the waist, sending her a death glare.

“Excuse her,” Pansy smiled awkwardly, “She’s a bitch.”

Your ears tickled at the word. You weren’t used to people calling those they were friends with such vulgar names… You weren’t used to the idea of friends at all.

Draco started rattling off about half-bloods and “that darn Potter,” spurring his friends into a rather heated conversation. They laughed and cackled loudly at each other, entirely easy around you as if it didn’t matter at all that they didn’t know you.

“Is this okay?” Theo asked you in a whisper once the group had moved on to another topic of conversation.

“Yes, this is nice,” you responded with a blush over your cheeks as you tried not to smile, “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to so many people.”

Theo’s eyes softened, glazed with a thin layer of water that informed you of his empathy. He felt your loneliness as if it was his own. The image of a young version of himself locked in his bedroom, wailing for his long deceased mother, flashed in his memories and seeped into your brain. An involuntary consequence of your extraordinary Legilimency talent.

When Saturday finally arrived, you slept in the whole morning. You only awoke at the sound of a knock on your door followed by a series of laughter at ten o’clock. You rolled out of bed, and for a moment stopped in horror of your hair in front of the mirror to quickly tie it up, and then opened the door.

You were surprised to see Pansy and Daphne there, but even more so when Daphne asked, “It’s Hogsmeade day, why aren’t you ready?”

“Huh?” You said, squinting at the light of the hallway.

“Theo sent us up to grab you, get some clothes on and let’s go,” said Pansy as she pushed past you and slipped into your room, Daphne hot on her heel, “Merlin’s beard, there’s absolutely nothing in here.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve got it all to myself,” you muttered.

“Oh, that’s got to be terribly boring,” said Pansy.

Both of the girls made themselves at home as they rummaged through your drawers looking for something nice to wear. They were both dressed very well themselves, and it made you a little self-conscious to think they were going to see all your cheap clothes.

Pansy threw a sheer white shirt you didn’t know you had and a pair of bootleg jeans onto your bed while Daphne kicked over some matching joggers and a big white handbag you’d stolen from your mother.

“It is terribly boring,” you said.

As the three of you descended the stairs (after you got dressed, of course), you could already hear the sounds of masculine voices teetering on yelling at one another. One of them you knew to be Theo’s, and while you weren’t particularly familiar with them, you were inclined to assume the other two voices were Draco and Blaise. At the bottom step out of the girls’ dormitory hallway, you were proven correct when you saw them bickering like old men at a weekend golf tournament.

Draco was the first to notice the three of you, and his grey eyes lit up at the sight, “L/n, come settle an argument for us.”

You walked to join the small group and stood beside Theo, your handbag held meekly between your fingers, the nails of which had magenta paint flaking off them.

“Your mate Theo here—” Draco gestured to him with an uninterested hand, and you nearly laughed at the idea that Theo was your mate more than he was any of the others’— “Thinks that we ought to have a Legilimens registry like we have for Animagi. Frankly, I think it’s absolutely blasphemous that we even have one for Animagi; let them run wild, I say! What are your thoughts? Don’t mind the coincidental pun.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit biased in this conversation,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you mean?”

The faces of the group stared at you with raised brows, and eyes that glistened with interest, and you were red from the attention.

“Well, I’m a Legilimens,” you admitted, “So, I’d have to disagree with you, Theo, for my own sake.”

“Are you really?” Theo asked to break the silence, and you nodded shyly.

“That’s so cool!” Daphne all but squealed, “What number am I thinking of?”

“Seven.”

She brightened with delight, and slapped Pansy’s arm, encouraging her to try your magic out like a little game. Pansy did just that, and you ended up going around the whole group, describing what they were thinking of. Eight. Twelve. Bakery. Seven. And Theo was questioning why you weren’t already on the way to Hogsmeade.

With that final thought, they grew disillusioned by the game, and you began the walk to Hogsmeade.

You’d never been into town with other people before, not that you went much at all. You usually stayed in your room, or wandered the halls, towering over the first and second years who weren’t allowed to go on weekend Hogsmeade trips yet. But there you were, forming one kink in a string of knots engaging in stimulating conversation about the current condition of the world, and even boring conversation about the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts which, to you, seemed so thrilling even if only for the fact that it was verbal discourse in some form. You’d forgotten what it was to converse with others.

“Is there anywhere you need to go once we get there?” said Theo once you were nearing the end of the path and closing in on the town.

“I would have been awake before Daphne and Pansy got to my room if I planned to go anywhere today,” you joked and he smiled, “If you don’t mind, I might just go wherever you go.”

All he offered in response was a hum, and it left you thinking that you’d somehow made the air around you awkward. You’d later come to learn that he was just like that, never much of a talker if he thought the situation didn’t call for it.

Almost instantly after you passed sign that read ‘Welcome to Hogsmeade,’ the group dispersed, and Theo and yourself were left to do as you pleased.

Your companion, it seemed, didn’t have much he wanted to do either, so he led you to the Three Broomsticks. Kindly, he offered to pay for a butterbeer or two, but you didn’t think you were close enough for that, so you humbly told him it was alright. You sat in relative silence until our drinks arrived when Theo struck up some conversation.

“What have you been doing all these years by yourself, L/n?” He asked.

“I don’t know… Stuff…”

Theo laughed, and you laughed along with him. Your mind was frazzled by the alcohol, which kept refilling itself as you chatted on, and every so often you found thoughts that didn’t belong to you creeping into your mind, but you couldn’t place who they belonged to. It was just the odd word — sad, or pretty, or damned, or Y/n.

“Nott, are you and Malfoy good friends?” You asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seem to argue quite a bit.”

“He’s just like that,” said Theo, “Likes to start shit for no reason, that one.”

You giggled, and he grinned happily. Another person’s thoughts seeped into yours once again, that time a full sentence: ‘I love her laugh.’

The bell that hung over the entrance to the Three Broomsticks jingled, and though you couldn’t see it behind you, you watched as Theo’s expression morphed into one of guilt. You turned over your shoulder, and made out the figures of the four people who had come with you. Each of them were wearing a disappointed look on their faces.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?” asked Pansy, her tone equal parts concerned and amused.

“Nothing,” said Theo.

“Yeah, if ‘nothing’ is code for drinking all day,” said Blaise, “Snape’s gonna have your asses for this.”

The others guided yourself and Theo back to the castle. Your hand was attached to Pansy’s forearm, Theo’s arm was slung over Draco’s shoulder. By the time you reached the Slytherin common room, You were sober enough to move on your own, and thus, started your way up to your dorm.

“Where are you going?” Theo asked curiously. He was far away enough that you couldn’t smell his breath which stunk like the vomit he’d expelled from his body halfway through the walk back.

“My room,” you said.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head and then closed his eyes from the dizziness. “It’s sleepover night. You have to come to our dorm, I made room for you on my bed.”

“I used to sleep there because he’s got the best mattress out of the three of them, but we figured you might prefer to sleep beside him than Blaise,” Daphne explained.

“Oh,” you breathed, “Do I need to contribute anything?”

You hadn’t had a sleepover before. You didn’t know the proper protocol. You assumed one would need to bring at least their pyjamas and a pillow, maybe some sweets of some kind to share. But Theo shook his head, and you were in the boys’ room before you knew what was happening.

The boys’ dorm room was the opposite of yours. So exquisitely full, and intricately messy. The three beds were all the same size as yours with dark green bed hangings, and each about a metre apart.

Closest to the door and to their small shared bathroom was Theo’s bed. On the right, beside the door to the bathroom, he had a tower of books that acted as a wall. His sheets were black, but his pillows and blanket cover were a dark oceanic blue-green. There wasn’t much room, but you spied a large mess under his bed which you assumed was what he’d removed from the bed to make space. On his bedside table sat a small lamp that provided the only light in the room before Daphne declared it was far too ‘dark and gloomy’ and turned on the central light.

On the floor, directly under the light, there was a large medieval-style rug that bore our house crest, and the others sat on it lazily, ushering you over.

“I need a smoke,” said Draco, and he walked over to the window where the ashtray was.

“Me too,” said Theo as he also moved to the window, “You want one, L/n?”

“I’ve never smoked before.”

“Then I shouldn’t get you in the habit,” he smiled, “It is such a terrible habit to have. Costs more than it’s worth.”

He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Draco, and they both lit them with their wands.

“Does it taste nice?” You asked.

“Not particularly,” said Theo.

“Why do you do it then?”

“You’re so curious, L/n,” Draco teased.

Theo playfully slapped him on the chest, “Leave her alone,” he said, and then turned to you, “I’m an addict.”

“That’s got to be bad for your lungs, Nott,” you frowned, suddenly concerned.

“Don’t you worry about him,” said Pansy, a knowing smirk on her lips that told you she was well aware you’d continue worrying.

The night went on much shorter than you wished for it to. You’d hoped, perhaps too eagerly, that none of you would ever sleep. Far too much did you enjoy being awake with those people who you’d met too late in yout life. You were truly happy to have met them because for all the simple joys you’d managed to discover in your time alone, none were half as happy as those grand joys you found with them

You all took turns getting changed in the small bathroom (Theo lent you a shirt to wear), then you all slid into our respective beds. You were nervous about sleeping beside Theo because, in truth, you didn’t really know him. But he placed a pillow between you, and only faced you for a moment — a moment in which there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher, a moment in which you attempted to read his mind all too late — and then he kissed his fingers, and he touched them to your head, and he turned the other way.

“Did you sleep well?” Theo said once he noticed you were awake the next morning.

“I’ve never slept beside someone before,” you explained nervously, “I think it was a decent experience. I hope I didn’t move around too much.”

“Not at all, L/n,” he said.

A hum escaped your mouth, and you were acutely aware that Theo was watching you as you stared up at the roof of his room. Painted on it, Sistine Chapel-style, was a beautiful lush green forest.

“L/n. It’s so formal to call you by your surname.” Theo let out a disapproving tut.

“I call you by yours?” You said as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“You’re the only one who does.”

“It’s your name!” You raised your voice slightly before lowering it again so as to not wake any of the others up. “What else am I supposed to call you?”

“Theo,” he said, “That’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what false-name shall I bear, then?”

He chuckled quietly as he finally sat up. He raised his long arms in a stretch that exposed the bottom of his stomach and his V-line, and you glanced away until he returned his arms down to a cross in front of his chest. You took notice of his hair, which was awfully messy in the morning, and you thought he should get his hands on a bonnet to take care of it, but then you thought he probably shouldn’t. A silk pillow would’ve done him wonders, though.

“A nickname for Y/n,” said Theo, “How about Y/n/n?”

“I suppose that will do,” you said as nonchalantly as possible, but inside you were screaming with excitement. A nickname! You’d never had a nickname before.

“Oh, you suppose, do you?” he teased.

Your amused smile betrayed your insincere attempt at a pout, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t let anyone else call you Y/n/n, alright?” said Theo, and you crossed your brows in question, “I want it to be just an us-thing. They can call you your full name at most.”

He was extraordinarily bossy. But it was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

“Wait, but if everyone calls you Theo, I want something just for us, too!” You blushed at how overly familiar that sounded, but Theo’s rosy cheeks filled you with conviction. “How about Teddy?”

Giddily, he smiled at you, “Say it to me in a sentence.”

You frowned, but obeyed, “I like being your friend, Teddy. — How was that?” He nodded happily, “You say one for mine, now.”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide on a sentence to say.

“Read my mind, Y/n/n.”

Always, he had to boss you around. But, again, you really didn’t care. It was just nice to have someone to boss you around. To think that only at the beginning of that week, you had no friends at all… Now you had so many, and all thanks to destiny. All thanks to your Teddy.

A breath, and then you forced your way into his mind. There was a picture there waiting for you, a memory from Monday. A memory of you, except, you seemed to glow. You’d seen yourself in a million mirrors and memories over the course of your life, but never had you looked so beautiful. And then, there were words.

“I’d like to go on a date with you, Y/n/n.”

Your eyes snapped open as you left his thoughts to belong to him alone.

“What?” You asked, your ears red.

“I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Y/n/n. Please, go on a date with me?” Theo smiled.

He inched closer until your noses touched and you could barely tell each others’ features apart. Each of you were just blurs of colour.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Teddy.”

[itsnotmourn]

mother sees her son doing his own thing and assumes he’s friendless (he's just an introvert)

[shangqinghuasbiggestfan]

Luo binghe is literally a copy of Shang Qinghua.

They both love like a dog. They both have a bad relationship with their parents (luo binghe hasn’t really got the best relation ship with his father for obvious reasons. Shang Qinghua didn’t have a good relationship with his parents. My theory is that airplane wrote luo binghe parentless, because that’s he felt with this parents. Like they were dead. Because they barely ever talked to him. To him, they were gone)

Binghe was an oc for Shang Qinghua, so it makes sense.

Here’s the thing. Luo binghe said “I hate how I can never keep anyone! How no one has ever chosen me!”

This way of thinking. This idea that no one would ever chose him. I believe this came from Shang Qinghua’s feelings about his parents. Both of his parents had left and gotten married again. They created new families. In the book, it is written “it was as if he was a stranger” when Shang Qinghua described how it was with his parents. They didn’t choose him. They chose them. And so Shang Qinghua was alone.

And it was that thinking that was written into luo binghe. Written into his oc.

Because Shang Qinghua used to believe that no one would choose him, luo binghe had the same experience.

Luo binghe never made friends in the sect. Even Ning yingying was never really a friend. She gave him company and such, but its showed multiple times in the first book that luo binghe, while he did care about her, also found her a bit annoying.

As far as I can tell, Shang Qinghua didn’t have any friends. He was able to pump out 10000 words a day, which probably took long. He also mentioned how he didn’t really have anything back home for him. He also seems kind of bad a socialising. He’s nervous and jittery, which kind of shows that he’s a bit of an introvert. He spent a lot of time in his room, reading comments and such about pidw. I honestly think Shang Qinghua was a bit friendless as well.

This is once again another way that no one had chosen them.

If I have more thoughts I might post an update, but you can have this for now :).

[yingdu-lover]

Right now, I can't cite those sources, I'll paste the link when I find them.

Rambling time!

Omg, I have always thought about this! Cheng Xiaoshi is

1. Tall, tanned and handsome (fork in the kitchen, surprise!)

2. Talented singer, so much so that Lu Guang closes his eyes and then sincerely compliments with a solemn expression. (ref - ep 8, season 1)

3. Skilled basketball player, athelete

4. Also skilled in martial arts

and something, SOMETHING even I misinterpreted very much, and this is coming from Li Haoling himself,

5. Cheng Xiaoshi is also academically gifted. Lu Guang and his first meeting was in high school and after qualifying university entrance examination, they got into the same tier university. Haoling describes Cheng Xiaoshi as someone who will perform badly in class, getting 60 or something in class tests and will pull an all nighter before exams and score 90 or above.

So the kind of 'good for nothing' image of Cheng Xiaoshi (ik not all but there are people) is not true. He is truly a multi-talented guy with a charming and cheerful personality (I mean come on his mbti is ESFP).

About his popularity and having friends...

I have always headcanoned that Cheng Xiaoshi chose Lu Guang one day and just never let him go. His choice to spend time with Lu Guang is an active choice and not out of his status of being 'friendless'. I have no one so I'll hang out with lu guang because he only tolerates me/gives me 'patta'. Nope.

The host asks Haoling why Qiao Ling said that before Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi didn't have any friends...and Haoling replies with,

"There is a difference between ordinary friends and true friends, Qiao Ling is referring to the latter. The kind of friend you would open your heart to, embrace with your body and heart, show your most vulnerable core..."

So Lu Guang is that to Cheng Xiaoshi.

I mean, yes, people have different interpretations but I have always been very uncomfortable with that discourse which undermines the intimate bond Shiguang share, it's very underwhelming.

It's both psychological and physical. Season 1 is full of these moments. For Lu Guang, I can say he is the kind of person who just doesn't care about people (I think people might misinterpret it. let me explain. I am not implying he is a sociopath, he is responsible, he manages a lot of things and he considers a given situation with due seriousness BUT he is never actively trying to discuss his extremely personal judgement with anyone EXCEPT your name is Cheng Xiaoshi. He is rational, aloof, respectful towards others as it is a general decorum he follows; all of these have an avalanche breakdown while interacting with Cheng Xiaoshi. I can tell you ( as a fellow introvert scorpio who almost shares his mbti, he judges, I prospect) Lu Guang will probably never curse anyone who is not Cheng Xiaoshi. Decorum and etiquette gives away when he is with him. He does not care about what kind of impression others get of him, but his otherwise solemn demeanour just deliciously fails- he gets angry, frustrated, extremely angry, he (sharply) mocks, he calls him names because he can. Cheng Xiaoshi can install all those feelings in him which he never really publicly displays. Throughout season 1, we often forget that we witness extremely intimate and private Shiguang moments. The stories of the clients progress as it leaves room for Shiguang to interact. The way Lu Guang straight up yells at Cheng Xiaoshi sometimes when he doesn't seem to understand something is so relatable lol. There are fools who allude to that chibi episode where Cheng Xiaoshi asks Lu Guang with hopeful™ eyes " do you think I am handsome?" and Lu Guang goes like "😨🤢🤮" and try to argue that Lu Guang is het 😭 man. Get some IQ. Lmao, Shiguang bicker like an old married couple, and tbh I would react similarly if I had a partner like that.), he cares about Cheng Xiaoshi's morals and perceptions. He seems to be very possessive of Cheng Xiaoshi but Cheng Xiaoshi being Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi does not mind it.

I can't fucking forget that scene when inspector Xiao Li approached Cheng Xiaoshi for Emma's case and Lu Guang just grabbed his wrist and straight up said to the police inspector with all seriousness,

"Before talking to him, you have to talk to me."

I mean- bro-

Cheng Xiaoshi is an adult goddamnit. Lu Guang has no interest in negotiating or discussing the case, and no that is NOT the behaviour of a business partner/manager.

Yingdu episode 1 : Normal friends do not move into your house as an act of apologising. Lu Guang went - I was the reason you were injured, I apologise, I will stay with you (as compensation?). And the conversation escalated to the point where he said "I'll never leave."

heh?

And in ep 8, season 1, he is telling Cheng Xiaoshi to sleep on the couch 😭 bitch it is his house.

(ok, while writing I just suddenly teared up thinking that Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi died. We will never see their original interaction, the Cheng Xiaoshi Lu Guang probably imagined his future with...there was a violent separation and everything stopped altogether. This Cheng Xiaoshi-ok ok it's too painful to think rn I can't )

um, I might have had a shiguang meltdown and I can't continue this rn. will edit later

hi, I came back

so,

about lu guang, we get to see 50 shades of lu guang only because cheng xiaoshi is there.

on the other hand, cheng xiaoshi...

I can't stop thinking about the earthquake episode. Cheng Xiaoshi slapped lu guang. Then hugged him while crying. Then lu guang calls him 'silly melon'. Can you fathom this level of emotional intimacy with someone? what level of intimacy would you need to achieve to let the very person hold you gently and intimately and call you by sweet nicknames who offended you in the first place? it's huge. Cheng Xiaoshi's trust in lu guang is beyond comprehension and no it's not just portrayed in life and death situations, rather shown in vignettes of everyday suffering.

[writers-potion]

Writing Introverted Characters

If you're creating an introverted character and you're not familiar with the complexities of this trait, take the time to learn about it. - Claire Alexander

Why You Should Write Introverted Characters

Since stories are about action, it is easier to write a page-turner about action-oriented people. It can be difficult to write introverted characters - so why should you do it?

First of all, all the introverts of this world would be able to relate!

Introverted characters offer depth of character and are case studies for inner struggles.

Think of Jane Eyre, Mr. Darcy, Edward Cullen - well written introverts can turn shallow angst into desperate yearning that will have your readers swooning by Chapter Two.

Introverted characters' minds can be a thrilling minefield, feeling their emotions and thought so deeply that the reader gets chills just by seeing the world through their POV.

Make It a Strength, Not a Weakness

Introverted characters may not dazzle others or have lots of friends, but it also means they can be more compassionate, intelligent and sensitive.

Take Mr. Darcy for example - the twist that comes from him being thought of as an arrogant, aloof character to being the kindest, considerate man gives the romance in Pride and Prejudice so much more angst and satisfaction when everything works out.

Don't Succumb to Stereotypes

Introverts are quiet and needs alone time to recharge their social energy, not just shy/rude/has a general dislike for humanity.

They're watching body language, tone of voice, and reactions of others, cataloging them and tucking them away for future use.

If they have valuable things to say, they will keep their thoughts (for now), then join the conversation with more confidence if they feel convicted about a topic.

Your introvert can love spending time with their friends. They can prefer socializing one-to-one or in small groups.

Give Them a Retreat, Not a Cave

Introverts need a special place where they can find sanctuary from the overwhelming.

They need an escape to recharge and get through their day, not isolate themselves from the world on weeks on end. If your character does this, he is not just introverted, he may as well be severely depressed.

Give Them Motivation

Being introverted does NOT equal to being lazy or demotivated.

Introverted characters actively explore their inner worlds and may even be more motivated than others to find order and logic in their life.

As Jane Eyre tells us: "I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself." She is a passionate and strong-willed character because of this, giving the novel action and tension.

Let Them Be Awkward, Not Rude

Introverted characters won't know how to act natural around new people and fail to react when someone cracks a joke.

Let your introverted character feel claustrophobic in social gatherings and react negatively to small talk.

HOWEVER, not knowing what to say does not equal to cutting everyone's lines and frowning throughout a cheerful conversation. In fact, introverts would try extra hard to "fit in", laughing when others do (even though they don't get it) and dying inside about how awkward they sound, even to themselves.

Show The Chaos of Their Mind

Introverted thinkers in particular would overthink and spend vast amounts of time organizing and brainstorming thoughts.

They jump from thought to thought and latch on little things they notice in everyday life to imagine a host of loosely related things.

Does your introvert have a close friend they trust? Let them rant about their internal conversation to the other person (with whom they feel comfortable).

Research!! + other tips

Let them express themselves creatively through various hobbies: journaling, dry painting their bedroom, coloring books, or painting. Plaster their mirrors with sticky notes, make them knit, glass blow or garden their backyard.

Pay attention to their learning style. Many introverts learn best through reading, while being good listeners. They'll research about their interest through online sources, horded magazines, or at the local bookstore/coffee shop. Make them an expert in their field.

Show how they are underestimated. Because they keep to themselves, they are often underestimated. As an introvert myself, introverts are often underestimated in personal relationships (like friends or family) rather than professionally (although this is credible too) because they aren't particularly funny or outwardly supportive. But introverts can be emotionally supportive - they will be missed.

Not all introverts project each of these traits. Introverted Thinkers (Katniss) approach problems from a much differnt perspective than Introverted Feelers (Edward).

Make them sarcastic, cynical and argumentive. I love writing abotu introverts with a sharp tongue, especially when they're talking about a subject they know a lot about. They may also have a sharp tongue as a defense mechanism.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

References:

https://www.blueridgeconference.com/ten-tips-for-writing-introverted-characters/

https://susancain.net/writing-introverted-character-hard-must-anyway/

[milk-crater]

Diamond Dynamite Cowboy (OR What if Hangman had won the intial Dynamite Diamond Ring Match?)

There were fans waiting outside the hotel when Hangman’s white limo pulled up. Behind the privacy of the tinted windows he let out a small sigh and soothed himself by twisting the dynamite diamond ring around his pinky finger. Then he emerged, all smiles. He might be a cheating bastard in the ring, but with the fans he was nothing but a gentleman. He tipped his white cowboy hat to the ladies, signed everyone’s posters and funko pops, adding his trademark shining diamond at the end of his name. When he took selfies with the crowd he made sure the sun was on his right, all the better to catch the diamond stud in his ear.

He crossed the threshold to the hotel lobby and security thankfully kept his adoring fans back. Even now, he still felt his inner introvert shudder in relief. It used to be a lot worse, back before he won the ring. Used to get so shy and tongue-tied around people. But the ring, small as it might seem, it was a shield. It gave him something to hide behind. It showed him how to be: sparkling but hardened, impossible to cut.

“Uh, Mr. Page, you forgot your luggage!” It was a hotel worker, a nebbish looking man who was falling over himself trying to wheel in all three of Hanger’s over-sized Coach suitcases.

Hangman looked the man up and down.

“I forgot my luggage? Do I look like I drag along my own rolly suitcases like some kind of new hire on the farm? No, that’s your job—” he peered at the man’s name tag—“Derick, and if you don’t wrangle my things up to my room, I’ll make sure AEW books a different hotel next time we roll into town. Got it, partner?”

Derick grew even more pale, and started muttering apologies as he tried to leave. This time he did trip over his own feet, but before he could fall a young man grabbed his shoulders, setting him upright. It was Maxwell Jacob Friedman.  

“Hey, man, take your time. This asshole’s not even checked in yet,” Max said to the hotel worker. Max then proceeded to stack one of the smaller suitcases atop the bigger one, making it easier for Derick to maneuver. Once Derick had scurried away Max turned to Adam.

“Threatening hotel staff? That’s a new low, even for you.”

If Hangman had to choose one thing he hated about MJF, it was how judgey the little prick was. The man thought he was above it all, just because he’d suffered and had a change of heart and had spent years as this reformed tortured soul. Hangman sometimes thought he should take the kid out for a drink and explain that he ain’t nothing special, that people get betrayed by their mentors all the time in wrestling, and really, he should have known that Cody Rhodes wasn’t the saint he pretended to be and was going to stab him in the back eventually.

Hangman shrugged. “What’s it to you, Friedman?”

“You’re making the company look bad. You’re supposed to be ‘the shining diamond of AEW’—”

“Ah, that’s what’s got your dander up, ain’t it? It always comes back to this.” Hangman raised his hand to kiss the face of his pinky ring, keeping eye contact with MJF as he did so. “You’ll die mad that you didn’t win this little darling back in 2019.”

Max rolled his eyes. “You know, you probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I’m glad I didn’t win. That ring, it’s designed to do one thing: compel its wearer to cheat. It’s just too powerful to resist, so you don’t. And it’s such a silver bullet, any time you’re down in a match, it gets that much easier to pull it out and get that surefire win. But then it becomes all you’ve got. You’re obsessed with that thing.” Max shook his head. “You’d be nothing without it. You wouldn’t be the ‘Dynamite Diamond Cowboy’ anymore with your white gear and sequins. No, you’d just be plain old Adam Page, a friendless drunk who sees that bottom of a whiskey glass more often than he sees his own kids’ faces.”

Adam stepped up to him, shoulders squared, ready for a fight. Max, to his credit, didn’t back down, just stood nose to nose with him.

Hangman smiled. “You’re right, Max, I don’t believe you,” he said. “You’d trade your sad little life for mine in a second. All those worries and fear you carry? This makes them weightless.” Hanger once more lifted up the ring, his hand a fist.

They stood there for a tense moment, both waiting to see who would take the first shot.

“Um, Mr. Page?” It was the hotel manager. She looked weary but resolute. “Your room is ready, and all your luggage has been brought up.”

Hangman glared at Max for one more beat before turning to the manager with a dazzling smile.

“Why, thank you, darling. I’ll head right on up.” He tipped his hat to her, and then, as if an afterthought, tipped his hat to Maxwell, making sure the light caught the diamonds on his ring as he lifted his hand up.     

[insufficientemotionalfunds]

alex you prick, you do it on purpose! 😂

why are you serial torturing poor friendless introverts by trapping them in their own homes with nothing to sustain them but peaches??

and you made norris read it? diabolical. 🤣

[chained-spirits]

CHAINED SPIRITS MASTER POST

My ask box is open for questions and / or doodle requests (character asks are welcome)!!

>Comic<

>Discord< (13 or over)

>Chain Ref (8/16)<

>Info<

>Timeline!<

>Spotify playlists<

Guest Artists: @dearchose @classic-bigfoot

Feathers and Zonai / Lomei?

Hi Oracle!!

Shadows impression of Vio

Hi Kokiri

Polls:

Best with animals: Reaper

Best artist: Feathers

Best survivalist: Scout

Best with words: Era

Best fighter: Champion

Worst immune system: Feathers

Worst resource manager: Champion

Fear of Heights: Sailor

Worst Navigator: Champion

Best Singer: Feathers

Introvert: Kokiri

Extrovert: Sailor

Friendless: Champion(for some reason)

Fics: “All at Ease” "Adventure Log"

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[yunyunbby]

Tenma Tsukasa and Bakuno Reki comparison

When Tsukasa4 event was ongoing there's some people point out the similarity between the two so I feel like bringing them back

Past

Reki's parents don't get along and they both go to work. So Reki spent most of his childhood feeling lonely.

Tsukasa has loving parents. Since Saki spends her time in the hospital, their mother would spend time taking care of Saki while their father tend to come back work late. Which makes Tsukasa feel lonely (but in denial).

Motivation

Feeling lonely (since he's a friendless introvert), Reki starts talking to the characters of the books he reads and slowly he makes up his own characters by looking at the people around him and wondering what they would be like. Reki's motivation is "To have someone to talk to".

For Tsukasa, seeing the show and realising how much it makes his family and especially Saki smiles, he also starts to make his own show. Since the shows make Saki's smile, he also wants to make everyone smile with his shows. Tsukasa motivation is "To make everyone smile with his shows".

Imagination

Reki likes to converse with the characters in the books he read. And that makes it wanting to think what people around him be like.

Tsukasa can make various type of shows and he even can do an improv. The plushies he has are his actors of his shows and it even manages to be manifest into the sekai.

Skills

Reki understands the side characters he plays by thinking about what he thinks the character would be like and what kind of life they would have. And this motivates Reki to make the supporting characters shine with his acting.

When Tsukasa found out how to act as Nakayama, he plans to think how Nakayama would act outside the story with his troupes and Reki's help. When he firmly grasp the character he wants to play he can act it as realistic as possible.

[cyanide-joe]

Nadia: The Survivor, The Perseverance SOUL, The Fourth Sacrifice, The (Not So) Friendless Loser Nerd.

She/They

Age at Death: 13

Stats: LV 6 (ExP to LV 4)

● Human: ATK 16 (+2) DEF 11 (+5) HP 32

● Monster: ATK 62 DEF 56 HP 3000

● Determined!: ATK 620 DEF 560 30000

Motivation: Survival for her and her friends, without sacrificing them.

Backstory: The child of an affair, Nadia's presence was mostly only tolerated by her wealthy family, and kept out of the public eye as to not cause a scandal. When not preoccupied with lessons and activities to keep her out of the way she would occupy her time with stories, projects and fantasy's. One day she decided she would investigate the supposedly cursed Mt. Ebott to see if the legend of monsters were true. Knowing her family wouldn't stop (or miss) her, she packed a bag for the trip and left.

Found by Toriel, she enjoyed the company of the boss monster and spent many months with her. However as time went on she began to find the ruins stifling and claustrophobic, exhausting everything she could learn with the place, and became increasingly enamored with the mystery of what lay beyond, a subject that Toriel refused to go into, only ever stating that it was dangerous. Eventually she caved in and started making preparations to leave, secretly gathering supplies and creating a disguise. Then, while Toriel was asleep she left a note thanking her for everything and leaving for the greater underground.

It wasn't long before she ran into the Snowden Sentries, and was subsequently killed before discovering the ability to reload. Over the next weeks (but from her perspective, months) she explored the underground and learned about monster society, abusing the ability to SAVE and LOAD to stay ahead of the royal guard led by Gerson, though her shy nature and paranoia prevented her from getting too close to any monster. She hoped to find a way to break the barrier without the need for further sacrifice, and managed to convince the Royal Scientist to help, eventually gaining his friendship, but alone she realized it was impossible. With this realization came the decline of her mental state, causing her to slip up and putting her into a situation she could not load out of, forcing her to kill for the first time.

The act of taking a life broke her, and she became convinced she could no longer stay in the underground, instead resolving to free herself. She turned herself over to Gerson, and after a lengthy conversation he led her to Asgore. At first she presumed her ability to RELOAD would be enough to eventually triumph over the king of monsters, but after countless many attempts, she gave up and allowed him to kill her.

Personality: Curious, shy and paranoid; Nadia looks at the world as a series of puzzles that can be solved with careful observation and persistent trial and error. The only puzzle she cannot seem to understand are other people, leaving her as a socially anxious introvert, though she is still deeply loyal to her friends and enjoys their company. Beneath all of that is a ruthless survival instinct and a terror of death, confinement and isolation, lending her a willingness to do anything to never experience those again. The lengths she could potentially go, even betraying her friends, fills her with a deep sense of shame, and quietly believes she doesn't deserve to be loved.

Relationships:

● The most introverted member of the group, she nonetheless stays close to the others and loves it when they take an interest in whatever she's currently fixated on.

● Respects, and is slightly intimidated by, Grace.

● Bonds with Clover over music and regularly plays with them. Wonders how they were able to willingly sacrifice their soul for monsterkind.

● Gets along very well with Alice. Enjoys how she takes an interest in what they do without imposing herself and likes to sit back and watch a situation unfold alongside her.

● Can find Felix to be a little... much.

● Does not regard Frisk as one of them.

● In spite of everything, she doesn't hold Gerson hunting her down against him.

● A part of her still sees Toriel as a mother figure, but believes it's best if they don't meet again

● Terrified of Asgore.

● Feels nothing for her former family, with the exception of a nanny, who treated her like their own.

Magic:

●Bullets: mostly manifests as doodles and hostile words, as well as talon-pens that can draw swipe at the opponent or draw lines across the bullet board. In purple soul mode the board becomes like a paper page that can be torn, folded or drawn on.

○ Green Bullets: Positive words.

○ Purple Bullets: Special bullets that trigger extended invulnerability but deal no damage. If timed right they can reflect a magic attack back at the attacker.

● Soul Strings: Can manifest magically conductive thread to ensnare objects amd people, granting minor kinetic control over them.

○ Purple Soul Mode: The thread can bind the souls of others, forcing them and their magic to travel along the threads.

○ Hack: She can interface with any electronic or magical device her strings attach too.

● Endure: Gains a heal and a temporary DEF buff when hit with an attack. The greater the damage the greater the buff and heal.

Music: Lofi ambiance, with lemotifs of "Waterfall", "Core", Gaster's Theme and whatever Gerson has. It becomes off key when she is stressed or anxious. Her combat theme is notably unimpressive, reflecting her lack of combat ability.

Other Notes:

● Dislikes the cold.

● Feels like they forget someone.

● Spent a great deal of time in the forests outside her home estate, and loved leaning camping in them.

● Trained in classical music and knows how to play the piano, violin and trumpet. Though she would love to learn how to play jazz, folk music and electronic instruments, she was never allowed to by her parents.

● She believed, once, that no situation is truly unwinnable, but since her experience in the underground, has become far more cautious about getting into potentially dangerous situations without learning as much about it as possible.

● Can fly, but gets vertigo easily.

● Would like to collect stim-toys and plushies, and build dioramas and mini-figurines.

● Fanfic shipper trash (affectionate).

● When it became clear that Nadia wasn't coming back, her family bribed officials to have her records quietly erased.

● Bewildered by her new body and is struggling to adjust to it's various aspects, such as her new hight, tail(?), and the fact that she has two sets of arms now. Is especially annoyed by the fact that she still needs glasses.

Art by @Kays-artstuff

(The Watcher, The Gladiator, The Hearth, The Survivor, The Dancer, The Judge, The Ambassador)

[atropinenightshade]

I'd love to hear more of ur mifal hcs! :D

I think in a more modern context or even some AU, Midas could be a businessman/merchant and Rafal runs into him somehow. Maybe he and James are at sea saving Rhian from a pirate kidnapping and Midas has product being shipped, so Rhian finds Midas first and abducts him (and maybe bad luck happens where Midas' ships have sank). Rafal finds him later and promises to repay any possible lost product in exchange for help. So Midas uses money to bail Rafal out of trouble.

Midas would be obsessed with cards, methinks, and Rafal tags along for nights of poker (falls asleep too) and so forth and if they went to some formal occasion that required costume, they could go as Kings. (I think Midas would be King of Diamonds.) Rafal only follows because he's desperate for Midas' help at this point. (and money)

Midas appreciates Rafal being cheap--somewhat. because there's more money left in the bank for themselves after all. He doesn't like Rafal's penitential tendencies though.

Rich, somewhat selfish merchant x arrogant, intelligent noble almost into bankruptcy

both of them give off reincarnated lovers

i feel as if Rafal doesn't understand the world of money or finance too well despite not being a shopaholic so Midas would have to explain 100 times and more.

Rafal trying everything and anything to save his life, while Midas is like, "and oop we die"

Money and power corrupts, but both of them would actually stay together. Hm maybe the Storian should have paired THEM together instead and left Rhian in peace.

Midas thinks Aladdin is lame. Why try cheap street rat tricks when you have usury?

Mifal has guilt-ridden, cranky introvert, friendless life couple goals. Soulmates fr.