#i do not know french accents they all speak the z language to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nuri148 · 2 years ago

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On the topic of eye accent, may I add it not only others the "accented" character (in quotes bc we ALL have an accent) but also can throw away the reader especially if they have ESL themself.

For instance, when I read the books from which OP cites, I (native Spanish speaker) hadn’t first-hand experience of French people speaking English; therefore, it was hard for me to imagine how I was supposed to pronouce what I was reading.

Many years later and having spoken English with many French speakers, I can also tell that the cited eye-accent n’est pas bon. The /ð/ sound of this, that, the, thus, though, would at most be pronounced /d/ by a francophone; it’s the hard /θ/ of thin, thought, theft that will likely ellicit the /z/ sound.

Eye accent is also reductive, as a foreign accent is made up of many factors aside from mispronouncing sounds, like placing the accent in the wrong sylable, intonation, word order, etc. Obviously, trying to cram all this in writing would be impossible even if the writer used IPA (of which I daresay most people ignore even the basics). Therefore, using only one or two differently-pronounced letters -often wrong, as seen above- as token foreign accent is stupid.

Moreover, reading comprehension of eye accent is considerably harder that hearing comprehension of actual, even heavy, accent.

It is always better to convey a foreign accent by relying on the grammatical misconstructions, false friends or misused words and telling, not showing, the particulars of pronunciation (“Larry is very thoughtful”, she said word for word, rolling her r’s, struggling with the th sound, which came as a z). And if you can't bother to do the research, writing "she said, in a think Estonian accent" is fair game.

Ans since we're on it, a personal gripe of mine (and I think I’ve ranted about this before) is when foreign characters are shown speaking fluently in complex, gramatically correct sentences then make a real starter level mistake or don’t know a basic word they realistically should know for their level. My go-to example for this is an episode of Modern Family where Gloria is explaining something and she can’t remember the word helicopter. Which is helicóptero in Spanish. Same word. You don’t forget common words in your L2 when they are the same, or almost, as in your L1. A Spanish speaker may forget grapefruit, squirrel or slate (pomelo, ardilla, pizarra), but not banana, elephant or granite (banana, elefante, granito). Your foreign character’s errors should be adequate for their language level.

How to Write Non-Fluent ESL English

@interneet asked:

Hey, I’m reading a story at the moment where immigrant characters speak in incredibly broken English. It’s really jarring. Is there a way to respectfully write characters speaking in broken/non-fluent English without it coming across unrealistic and racist or would you advise just leaving that out of your writing altogether?

This is going to turn into a bit of a guide…I’ll try not to get too carried away with linguistics stuff :)

A Note on Terminology

I’d definitely go with “non-fluent” over “broken,” as the term “broken” has quite a negative connotation that also tends to be used in describing stigmatized languages, language varieties, and dialects that are, in fact, used properly according to their own internal rules (AAVE and many Global Englishes, to name a few).

Another term you should know for this guide is ESL and L1/L2. I’ll use L1 to refer to first language, L2 for second language, and so on—you can keep adding numbers. ESL is “English Second Language,” which is pretty self-explanatory, but there is a crucial distinction between that and dominant language. I myself am technically ESL, as I started learning English at around age 3. However, since I live in the US where English is the dominant language, I quickly gained in English proficiency and lost Japanese proficiency. While I still have around middle schooler proficiency in Japanese, English is my dominant language now. An immigrant character may be ESL but completely fluent in English.

Should You Write It?

It depends on whether or not the character’s English proficiency is plot relevant. Keep in mind that with writing non-fluent english, you don’t want to overload speech with mistakes, or make it incomprehensible. The most you should do is use it to establish character (say a character has just moved overseas, and in the story their English improves over time) or to further plot (maybe there is important info that needs to be communicated and there’s a barrier). If it’s not relevant, and it’s just in order to establish that they’re a foreigner, don’t do it. It’s Othering, and there are other ways to establish culture and culture shock. As I said before, not all immigrants have a poor command of their destination country’s dominant language.

The How-To

There are two components that I’ll address:

The types of errors to include, and

Writing accents (or not)

First, grammatical features are better to use than phonetic ones. We’ll get to why when we talk about accents, but for now, note that it’s more respectful to use for ESL errors than pronunciation. Here are some examples of grammatical features:

Word order

Inflections (eg. the attachment of affixes like -s, -ed, etc. to indicate tense, person, number, etc. of a noun or verb)

The presence or absence of certain morphological constructs that appear in some languages but not others (eg. Japanese has topic markers like wa, and English doesn’t; English has definite/indefinite articles like the but Japanese doesn’t)

If you’re writing an ESL character, ask beta readers & mods on this blog who speak the character’s L1 to see if the grammatical features of your character’s ESL speech are consistent with typical English fluency errors. Here’s an ask I answered on Japanese, and Mod Rune gives a good example on Korean here:

A Korean is more likely to try and put someone’s title behind their last name (e.g. Obama President rather than President Obama, Lestrade Inspector instead of Inspector Lestrade)

Second, we want to avoid in-dialogue portrayals of phonetic differences, which is also called “eye dialect.” Here are some examples from a piece of media many of us are probably familiar with, but I don’t think deserves a citation:

“Will you please inform zis ‘Agrid zat ze ‘orses drink only single-malt whiskey?”

“Eh? No, don’ go! I’ve — I’ve never met another one before”

“Anuzzer what, precisely?”

“Another half-giant, o’ course.”

Both speakers have an accent that is shown within the writing through misspellings of the words they’re speaking (one is French, one is West Country English). This is a stereotypical (and often hard-to-read) portrayal of accents that Others the speaker and unfairly puts either their dialect differences or their perceived proficiency in English at the forefront of their dialogue. And this is with European characters! Imagine how this would look on people from other parts of the globe.

Another major reason why we want to avoid eye dialect is because of the racist history of (pejoratively) writing accents in literature. In early American writing, Black characters were written according to minstrel stereotypes, and with it, a stereotypical way of speaking that was emphasized through eye dialect. Here’s a thesis that explains the history of eye dialect in American literature to supplement that idea, if you want to learn more. In addition, unless you’re a linguist or dialect coach who is trained in the phonetic inventory of the L1 & speaker tendencies, you tend to perpetuate media stereotypes that may not be reflective of actual speech. This can be very harmful.

Here’s a link on how to describe accents instead, and here are some good perspectives on being a 1st generation immigrant and struggling with accents (how that affects them when they’re teased for it, and also strategies they have taken to overcome a knowledge gap).

In Conclusion

Before writing an ESL speaker’s English in a different way from the rest of the cast, consider whether or not this is really needed in your story.

If you do decide to write their speech differently, look at the grammatical features of their L1 and talk to real speakers of that L1 to get a realistic idea.

AVOID EYE DIALECT!

Thanks for stickin’ with me, folks.

~Mod Rina

#writing wisdom #accent #conveying accent #foreign languages

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 5 years ago

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flaneur

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: prince!haechan, baker!reader

Warnings: nothing severe, just jealous haechannie, unedited

day 29 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which the youngest prince hates his older brothers, his responsibilities, his title... everything except his late night chats with you.

// only the best things define what you mean to me // (x)

[22:23]

“I hate Jeno. Like, Mark is okay and Taeyong’s okay, too… But it’s Jeno that I really can’t stand,” the youngest of the four princes in your kingdom groaned, pausing in his chewing to stuff another piece of some of your freshly baked bread into his mouth. “God, how is your bread so good?” An amused smirk quirked up on your lips when he released a satisfied groan. “I’m serious, Y/N. Why don’t you work in the palace? This is so much better than the stale buns they serve with every meal.”

Crimson flames reached higher in the furnace behind you, casting a fiery color all over the walls, effectively hiding your rose colored cheeks. Every time since the first time he showed, Donghyuck never failed to compliment your baked creations. And every time since the first time, his compliments never failed to send your heartbeat racing towards the same unwarranted speed. “I’m flattered you think so,” came quietly from your lips as you pulled the dough out of the rising bowl.

“No, I know so, Y/N. You have got to be the best baker in the kingdom.” A heavy set of dark brown eyes settled over your figure as you worked, punching the excess air out of the sticky mixture. While most times, you weren’t one to enjoy people’s gaze on you while you worked, the young prince was different. There was a strange glint of excitement in his deep irises, fascinated with the way your hands went about forming what was soon to be a loaf of bread. The self conscious smile on your lips grew.

“But anyways, Jeno.” A terrifying scowl marred his previously pouting lips and the way the youngest prince said his brother’s name, so heavy with bitterness and distaste… it almost made you want to dislike the male as well. You shook the thoughts out of your mind and refocused back on the task at hand. You didn’t even know the guy. “My gosh, he’s the only thing I ever hear my parents talking about. At every social event it will always be, ‘ooh, duchess of x, y, and z, count of pizza or something... may I introduce you to my son, Prince Jeno? Yes, yes, he’s awfully handsome with his stupid, perfect hair and his stupid, straight nose that never broke in a riding accident-”

“A riding accident?” A startled gasp left your lips and you nearly dropped the piece of dough you had been rolling out. “Are you alright? Was that why I didn’t see you for a fortnight last month?”

For a brief moment, all the disgust covering his face melted into embarrassment when the nobleman realized his slip up. “N-not important,” he stuttered, waving the topic away just like that. You narrowed your eyes at your friend, taking note of the light dusting of pink covering his cheeks.

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, swallowing another bite of bread. “Back to Jeno - oh man, this bread is beyond heavenly. I should really bring some home and make like a secret stash somewhere in my wing - all I’ll ever hear at any meal, at every meeting, every passing within a good 10 feet within my parents is, ‘Jeno won that fencing tournament’ or ‘Jeno has been learning Latin and French. Won’t you say something for us, darling? With that annoying accent you make’... it’s always ‘Jeno this’, ‘Jeno that’, and the occasional ‘Prince Donghyuck, why can’t you do the things your older brother does? That would improve your public image, don’t you think?” The rage in his eyes burned brighter than the fire in the oven and Donghyuck chomped down unnecessarily hard on the last bit of bread in front of him.

You knew the life of a prince was nowhere near perfect. From what you had heard from the youngest prince, it was anything but. As a civilian, at least you were allowed your privacy. Donghyuck didn’t even have that. That was the reason, he admitted within the first month he began to confide in you, that he snuck out of the palace to visit you so often. That and that fact he appreciated the way you looked, concentrated, at peace, and breathtaking the way you sat and listened without any judgement. With your lips locked and dough rounded into rolls, you set them aside to rise again as you took a seat across from your regular visitor.

“Like okay,” Donghyuck sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “Taeyong’s married and out in his wife’s kingdom most of the year and we just heard they’re expecting. Like ‘whooo’ great… another unfortunate child stuck in the position of royalty.”

You frowned at this. It was no secret the youngest prince hated his title, at least not to you anymore. He hated the responsibilities that came with being in line for the throne, he hated the publicity, he hated the favoritism and the constant heavy eye of criticism. All you could do was rest a gentle hand on his forearm as he continued. “Mark is at the frontlines with the rest of the soldiers because he’s the only one my dad trusted with all the militia. That, and I think his fiancee got caught cheating with her bodyguard. So it’s been just me and Jeno for a while now. But he doesn’t even try to get along with me! Like every chance he gets, he’ll rub in all his accomplishments and how mother likes him better… It’s- it’s both mortifying to be related to someone who, for one, has never tasted your bread-” the two of you shared a laugh. “-and two, doesn’t know when to be humble. Like, okay, we get it, you speak three, different languages. Well, I can say ‘fuc-”

“Donghyuck,” you giggled, offering him one of the rolls you had made earlier this morning. “You told me you wanted to work on cursing less.” A sound of acknowledgement left his lips and he took the tasty morsel from your hands, snacking greedily on it.

In the brief moment of silence, you took the time to admire the young man that had made your late nights preparing for the hustle and bustle of the day much more meaningful. Though not much older than you, the young prince truly had a way of making you comfortable. The women of your kingdom would gossip to each other while shopping about how handsome the princes were, and while you never took part in these silly conversations you certainly held many of the same sentiments. However… contrary to many, you personally thought the youngest prince was much more handsome than his older twin.

While you had only ever seen Donghyuck in the dim light of the fire, what little light danced across his features was enough to bring the deepest of blushes to your face. His skin was a much richer color than his three older brothers and his eyes - when they weren’t angry - were soft and childlike. The youngest prince had a unique voice, smoother than any honey and melodic in its own accord. His smile and his laugh was infectious, never failing to spark joy within you. And, while you had only heard of the physical well-being of his older brothers, Donghyuck was lean and muscular, much more skilled than the average commoner in the arts of self defense and swordsmanship. The wistful sigh floated gently from your tired lips.

Oh yes, the youngest prince was the most handsome out of the four.

“Y/N?” his voice brought you out of your stupor and you blinked. The prince had already finished his fourth piece of bread that evening. “You’re staring, again. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you hummed airily, rolling up your sleeves to check on the rising dough. He paused in his loud chewing to shoot you a playful glare. You knew that he knew that you weren’t telling the full truth, but still you shrugged. “Just that you’re much too kind to deserve the indigestion you’ll get in the morning from eating all this bread.”

“Oh, hush,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve never gotten indigestion from eating /your/ bread. The bread from the palace, perhaps. But never your bread. I think I’ll be okay if I eat another-”

You smacked his outstretched hand away from the basket of day old bread off to the side. “Don’t you dare, your highness. Those are for the poor and hungry.” A childish pout appeared on his lips but he retracted his hands.

“Fine.” After another few minutes of drawing mindless doodles in the scattered flour on the table, Donghyuck looked up again. “Oh right, Y/N. I wanted to ask you something before I head home for the evening.”

“Anything, my prince.”

It seemed the young prince wrestled for a good, long moment with his thoughts as a lovely fuchsia dusted his cheeks… until finally, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot more and I was just... I wanted to know wh-what, like what would it take for me to convince you to come bake for me in the castle?”

a/n: thank youu for being patient~

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illicitivywp · 4 years ago

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mal de vivre.

The morning that Harry wakes up and you're not sleeping peacefully beside him is the worst of his entire life.

He can sense that you're not there. The air still circulates whiffs of your caramel shampoo and the breeze of your automatic fan that you always insist on leaving on all night still whirs leisurely and tickles the back of his neck.

Regardless, the room is vacant. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that much.

For now, he remains entirely numb. Immune to the flooding sobs and intolerable agony and festering anger, he supposes it's in his best interest to stay like that for a while.

For a few days, at least. Until he can fully process your absence. He's not certain how long it takes the average person to wholly recognise an entire chunk of themselves missing, but he figures he's already suffered enough.

Surely, the universe isn't that cruel.

Your love is delightedly grand, and with its sudden unavailability, he feels so dejectedly vague.

He's clearly not perceiving time correctly, perhaps it's his distant concentration or maybe even his body's method of rejecting life and the wretched torture of its innate malice.

A few times, he's experienced sleep paralysis. The first, horrifying occasion is long-forgotten, when he was seven or so - it happened only after staying up until one in the morning to watch a horror movie that he'd been specifically warned not to watch and a towering vacuum of danger stood solid as stone at the end of his bed.

If it weren't for his fingertips subconsciously tracing featherlight scribes of your name on his forearm, he might reasonably assume he's haunted with the condition once again.

A clattering of paws on hard floorboards injects a little more reality into his thoughts, and he still can't bear, physically, to turn over and greet the sweet puppy you'd snuck home and surprised him with upon his arrival home from work around a year ago, knowing that his acceptance of a familiarly-shaped void is waiting just inches away.

Eventually, and after another chaotic scramble of claws in need of a cut, Chi is bouncing enthusiastically at his side and attempting an ambitious leap onto the mattress. She fails theatrically, landing in a resounding thud on her back and launching back to her feet, completely unaware of her owner's awaiting grief.

Masking his greatest fears with scooping a palm beneath Chi's belly and hauling her upwards to nestle into his chest, the reposition forces him to lay on his back (she's always detested laying on her side, especially when smothered with adoring cuddles) and, like the coward he truly is, his eyes focus adamantly on a random spot of the pale ceiling. With every minute shuffle, it becomes more and more achingly apparent that you're really not here.

And if everything runs correctly, you'll squirm and giggle graciously at his waking before returning his kiss, to his lips, this time, and he'll suggest applying a little moisturiser, like he always does, and you'll love him like you should.

When his eyelids snap open and his head curves breezily to your claimed side of the bed, he's somewhat unsurprised to confirm that his life truly has transformed to a dreadful bundle of tragedy. In your imposing place, is a neatly-made bed and an envelope.

A single, white envelope, stained by the sweet, flowing cursive that could flow only from your touch.

Chi leaps naturally to the spectacle, sniffing curiously at the letter and nudging it around a little, whilst Harry is so unexplainably pained that he's unable to move. Swallowing thickly, he's not certain word-for-word what lies in the confines of this envelope, but he does know it'll confirm your leaving him, and for some strange reason, he's relieved you left an explanation, at least.

A souvenir of you to hang onto forever, along with the millions of other items and memories of yours in his possession.

Carefully removing it from Chi's vicinity and replacing the object of her attention with a random squeaky toy that he'd discovered burrowed beneath his bed a few nights ago, he traces your exquisite handwriting with his fingertip and reads along with inaudible movements of his mouth; For Harry, mon amour.

In that moment, he realises profoundly that he'll never get to request hearing you say different words in your accent again.

The amount of times he implored relentlessly to hear je t'aime and have it accompanied with an endearing kiss is infinite.

Harry, my love,

I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't handle the pain.

Seeing your face cures any anguish I feel, but not this time.

I really, really tried; I know you did, too. I wanted it to work out, I prayed every day that our suffering would magically end and we could return to our love, I hoped that one day I would wake and cuddle you tightly and describe this awful nightmare I'd had.

Possibly, I may write to you in the future; please, don't try to contact me, it won't work and you know it's for the best. My family and close friends know where I am, where I will be, and they also know not to tell you if you ask.

I wish I could kiss all of your heartache away and protect you from all evil in this world, but I feel my presence is detrimental to your recovery.

My love for you is never-ending. Please be okay.

Forgive me and love someone else like you loved me. Let someone else love you like I loved you. Tellement, tellement.

Forever, I'll think of you and how unbelievably content I felt waking up next to you every day for seven-hundred and eighty (? - I'm estimating) mornings straight.

I will never, ever leave our love behind, and I adore you more than I can express. Your strength and resilience are admirable, and you are truly the best thing to ever happen to me.

Mon bébé, I miss you terribly.

Toujours, ton amour.

Chi tugs eagerly on her lead at the sight of the familiar entrance to her home, Harry in tow right behind. Sludgy snow muddies his shoes and soaks the hem of his jeans. His puppy's paws are undoubtedly drenched, too, but her fur is protected valiantly by her favourite jacket. He'd purchased it from a specialist store in France a year prior, and, since surprising her with the present upon his shared return, it'd become her primary option during the winter months.

Retrieving a reasonable pile of letters from his designated section, a rapid flick through displays bills, scams and all of the usual junk he usually receives. He offers his elderly neighbour a polite smile and holds open the door with his knee to construct a clear path for her exit.

He grimaces slightly at the teeth-shaped arc of damp dents into his mail - he hadn't particularly considered the repercussions of carrying it that way - and unclips Chi's lead, allowing her to run rampage through his airy apartment. Absently dropping his keys into its small dish of residence and taking a closer inspection at his post to infiltrate any wrong addresses or scams, he selects an apple from his fruit bowl and steals one firm chunk before noticing something peculiar.

Groomed eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he plucks one particular letter from the bunch and stacks it to the top. Perplexed by the sorely familiar curve of the writing scrawled on the front, his head shakes in denial - you wouldn't have, surely.

Discarding of all other mail on his kitchen counter, he's puzzled beyond belief; you'd left with no verbal warning and a letter that, admittedly, had been the source of several bouts of severe depression and, in spite of its awful affects, read dutifully every single day since your disappearance.

Rashly, he wishes you hadn't changed your phone number and email address shortly before leaving so he could possibly contact you regarding this mystery. However, he knows just as well as you clearly foresaw; his topic of discussion wouldn't be only the letter.

Tearing open the corner cautiously, he's incredibly delicate with checking inside the envelope once open to ensure it contains only his presumed note. Reviewing the front with a scouring gaze of disbelief, it really, truly has come from you.

He can't remember how many times he read each postcard that you'd gifted him with at the very beginning of your relationship. You'd recently made the permanent move from France to England, and, in a new country with limited knowledge of the native language, Harry had unintentionally become your beacon of comfort here.

With his fluent French and English, he was the perfect contender for kindly correcting your terminology and educating you on the essential etiquettes of Britain. Within weeks, however, your sweet smile had changed from an enjoyable sight during your frequent coffee shop meetings to something he craved.

He misses reading your silly, awful puns based around your home country, especially his favourite. A laughably unfunny joke paired with a matching scribble of the two of you; what do french fries do when they meet? They ketchup!

Harry,

I feel awful for waiting so long to speak to you again.

Your voice and your hugs. I've imagined them every single day.

I miss my Chi. How is she? I hope she's not missing her maman. Give her a kiss from me.

And the biggest kiss to yourself, because you deserve it, mon tout.

I'm inexplicably sorry for leaving so abruptly; I just couldn't take much more. The reminders were too much. Seeing your inconsolable pain every day was too much.

I'm so, so selfish, but I still believe allowing you to heal without my troubles was the best and easiest path for both of us.

I'm sure you noticed, but I may have stolen one of our pictures. It was your favourite, and that's why I had to choose that one, I suppose. Horrible, again.

I miss your dimples (and irritating you by poking them all the time). I miss your lips, they were so soft. No wonder you always bossed me around with the lip balm - I have my own now, I take it everywhere with me.

It smells like caramel.

Most of all, I miss your love. I've never known someone to love like you do. You were, are, and always will be, incredible.

Have you found someone to love yet?

Do you still think about me? If yes, please don't.

It's not fair of me to appear out of nowhere like this and not allow you a chance to reply. If you wish, post your letter to my maman's house - I'm not there, just to crush any other hope you have, but I'll receive it.

I'll be sorry forever, mon amour.

Sois gentil avec toi-même.

Câlins pour toujours, your baby.

Auriele,

I'm so thankful you decided to reach out again. I've missed you. Tellement, tellement.

Chi is brilliant, still eating everything and constantly in need of a haircut. She does miss you.

My hurt is still prevalent, I've accepted that it always will be. I truly don't believe it can be fixed again, but I'm still trying.

I spent the two weeks after your leaving searching for every single picture in existence of us. I cried so many times, I wish I could tell you that I'm wholly recovered and that you're fully forgiven, but I can't.

I think I counted them all. It's either three-hundred and seventy-seven or one-thousand, one-hundred and two (I have two sticky notes labelled pictures, I'm not sure which is correct.)

No one could ever love me like you do, tu es le meilleur.

I suppose that answers both of your questions.

Thank you for the chance to respond. I was incredibly confused when I received your thoughtful letter. I'm assuming by this one's destination being your maman's house, you're in France? You don't have to answer that. I would understand.

Mon bébé chéri, je t'aime.

Harry x

Harry,

It was the least I could do. I hurt you doubly and you never deserved that.

Tell her I love her. Buy her an ice cream for me (note the two dollars also enclosed in this envelope!)

There aren't enough apologies in the world to properly cover the extent of my mistakes, but I'll continue gathering as many as I can. And send them straight to you.

I also wish you could truthfully claim that you're okay, and I hope, with time, that you will be. It's all you ever deserved, mon chéri. You don't ever have to forgive me. I understand entirely if you hate me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those numbers were both low counts. I loved your face, as superficial as it sounds, but it truly was prettier than anything, and my favourite thing was always surrounding myself with it. Aussi longtemps que je pouvais.

My baby, I only tried my hardest to love you, and I sincerely hope I haven't ruined your idea of love so much that I'm your standard. Please, travel, find people to connect with, fall in love with a place, if not a person.

I bet Chi would love Spain. Australia, maybe? Thailand? Your choice entirely. You always were smarter than me (i.e. I left you - doesn't get much dumber.)

I am in France, feel free to ask any question you want about my current life if you decide to write back - you really don't have to. It's okay. You're still perfect.

Just not my address. It's so selfish of me to hide away from you when you're the one who deserves closure, but I'm not ready to share that information. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope you understand.

Tu me manques. Tu me manques ma maman et mon père. Tu me manques au cœur.

All my love, Auriele x

Every day, his thoughts are plagued with ideas of how to write his next letter. Your previous few communications ran smoothly; you seem incredibly apologetic and, as much as he would've gladly ignored the past tense use of 'love' in your most recent letter, he can't help but realise the difference from your first each time he reads it.

He's not certain why his first letter practically poured from his pen and before he knew it, it was sealed, posted and received. This time, however, he can't even construct a way to greet you.

Has distance and time really weakened your connection that much? His favourite childhood Disney movies would be ashamed.

The heartache you've endured together is insufferable, the bitterness remaining fresh and the misery continuing to roll onwards with him, and yet, you're both still alive. Perhaps, he should be a little more thankful.

He's tested out various support groups over the past few months; they appear to help in the moment, but once he returns home to a completely empty house, - aside from Chi - he realises all of his progress to be entirely fake.

How can he realistically recover from his insurmountable loss in solitude?

An apartment which used to breathe vibrant life and excitement for the future, diminished to nothing but silence.

He might as well have lost his house, too. Every second he spends there, surrounded by reminders of his grief, is draining. Of course, if he were a millionaire, he would've discovered a lovely, one bed flat with wide, open floors and windows. If he were a millionaire, though, maybe none of this agony would've ever happened.

He could’ve fixed it.

Regardless, he didn't, and now he returns home every single day, monotonous and finding solace only in rereading your letters and running through his local park with Chi, no matter the weather.

Sometimes, he hears the faint echo of your melodious voice ringing in his ear; mon doux bébé. For a moment, he believes you may be talking to him, but with a resounding giggle of contentment, you never were.

Within a month, he lost both of his sweet baby girls, and the pain is simply too much to comprehend.

Elle, mon cœur,

Firstly, I apologize for my late reply. This letter was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write.

You hurt me never. Life hurt me, and it hurt you, too, and I'm sorry it's so cruel.

Chi adored her ice cream - vanilla, your favourite - and said thanks! (complimentary picture attached, for you).

Sympathy and apologies aren't a cure. I've received enough of them to know. I hope you have, too. We might not accept it and it might not heal our pain, but it is nice to know you have people by your side.

Mon amour, I would/could never come close to hatred for you. You are my entire heart, and you own everything within it.

I hope, one day, I can forgive you. I hope you can forgive me. We both made mistakes. We're both accountable, and so is fate. Unfortunately, it wasn't on our side, and we have to welcome that.

Your face is certainly Top Five list of physical attributes, which goes as followed:

1. your lips. I know I complained about them being dry all the time, but I miss them, still.

2. your eyes. Somewhere between the ocean and a cottage filled with flowers, they were paradise.

3. your thighs. I am a man - a broken one, but a man nonetheless - and they are certainly the most family-friendly feature I could think of.

4. your smile. Even on my darkest days, your smile was heaven. I hope you're smiling right now. I wish I could see it.

5. your face? All of the above and everything else. Was that cheating?

I wish I could leave here. I wish I could find a small, tropic island where Chi and I can get tipsy on Virgin Mary's and surf all day, but I feel it wouldn't be fair for both of us to run.

Although, Chi would certainly have a great time in Thailand. She told me so.

Did I mention she misses you? We miss you.

I have more questions than you can imagine. This is only my second letter, however, so I suppose I'll stick to three for now, (sorry for all the lists!)

How are you? Mentally? Physically?

Have you made new friends whilst you've been out there?

Would you ever visit London again?

I miss you forever.

Ton bébé.

Harry x

Harry,

It's more tough to write my letters than you might assume. No need to apologise, I understand.

Life is shit. I thought I had accepted that. I never imagined how evil it could be.

Chi, my baby, looks so pretty. I love her haircut (number 8694743? out of infinite).

I have heard my fair share of sympathy. At first, I felt bitter. They didn't understand what I had suffered, they didn't understand the pain I felt. With time, I realised that, sometimes, sorry is all you need to hear to feel a little better. To feel like you're managing life, at least.

I wish I could believe I deserve it, but I truly don't.

My mistakes seem perpetual. I'm constantly remembering new ones. Things I could've noticed faster, signs that I should've recognised. Yours are nothing. You made no mistakes, mon amour, please believe that. As much as fate has been my least favourite higher power for the past year, I agree about welcoming our own.

I would make a list of my personal favourites of your appearance, but I'd be here all day, and I'm meeting with a friend in an hour (your second question - check).

It wasn't fair for either of us to run. I think it's turned out for the best, however.

I can imagine Chi passed out on the beach. You both deserve a holiday. Go to Scotland, or something, at least. Just away from London.

I miss you both. Much more than I can express.

I'm well. Mentally; it's a struggle, but that's just life, I suppose. Physically; my sickness stopped a while ago. I hope your headaches did, too, but I've been searching for cures for those for a long time.

Yes! I've made quite a few close friends. They all know and love you. I'll tell them you asked.

London holds far too many memories for me to bear. You're the only one I can stand. Maybe one day.

Tellement de câlins.

Auriele.

The second your letter arrives and is read fully three times over, Harry's scrambling to collect his fancy paper and ink pen, thousands of ideas about how to reply brimming in his head.

Pen to paper, however, his mind is entirely blank.

You're inching closer to addressing the subject of your pain, and so is he. So far, the only discussions you've had regarding that difficult topic have ended either in awful arguments or uncontrollable, endless crying and they all occurred before your disappearance.

Since then, you've had ten months and seventeen days shared to mature from and process the situation. Perhaps, if you were to have a conversation about it now, it would be beneficial.

Harry is aware of the solution to his strange writer's block and urges to attempt to fix your hurt, but he's not quite sure if he's ready. Physically forcing himself up from his cluttered desk, he tries not to think of the main event when changing his sloppy t-shirt and joggers to jeans and a jumper; it's February, so the wind is still well and alive but, luckily for Chi and the duration of her walks, the temperatures are beginning to rise.

His destination is barely a thirty minute leisurely stroll through the city away, and he feels shameful to admit that this is his first visit in ten and a half months. Several times, he's gathered his courage to stand on the pavement, surveying the vast area but never making it closer than the protective fences.

This time, though, he's determined to make it. And he will, with je t'aime's and sweet giggles bubbling in his ears.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

Auriele,

Life will continue to surprise us. It may be malicious, but it's also given me you, so I guess there are a few reasons to be grateful.

I think it's more like *8694744 out of infinite, and I'm sure she'll have many more unpleasant trips to the groomers in the future.

You are handling life impeccably, considering all. You deserve showers of recognition for just being here.

No one has ever been more deserving of my love, and no one ever will.

Please, don't blame yourself entirely. Yes, there were signs. Signs that we both should've seen earlier. We knew as much as everyone else. We can't know if things would be different if we'd noticed them, because they're not.

I'm glad you're enjoying life in France. Is it peaceful? Is it too far to ask if you're living with one of your new friends? What're their names, if you don't mind my asking?

If I were to go on holiday right now, Paris would be my first choice.

I'm glad you're feeling better, I hope you continue to improve mentally in the future. I wish you nothing but true happiness.

If you're ever here, I'd be honoured to see you again.

This might surprise you. Before I wrote this letter, I went to visit her.

I haven't since we were there together.

I talked to her for hours about my life and my pain and your letters and your pain and anything I'd love to say to you if I knew how. Meline always was the best listener, no offence to you. She just understands.

I miss her. I miss you. I miss my babies.

Please, send me a picture of you (always topping lists) in your next letter. I need to see you now. I bet you're glowing.

Toujours, Harry x

Harry, mon amour,

I feel as if I should address the end of your letter first, because I certainly wasn't expecting it. I cried a lot. I'm still crying as I write this.

It feels nice to feel.

I've been so numb to it all. I know I should sob every day, think of her every single second. I don't. That may make me an awful person, but I always preferred not to lie. Especially to you. I don't think the gravity has quite hit me yet.

Back to the normal, top to bottom of your letter.

My family is a gift. My parents, you and Meline, specifically. I've never admired anyone more.

I miss Chi. Especially today, for some reason. Send more pictures of her when you next write. (I enclosed an updated picture of me in town, if you hadn't noticed! It was taken last week.)

I had concerns. Concerns that I didn't follow up on. We knew something was wrong, but we did everything we could, right? We found help. We found medicine. Why didn't it work?

How fucking cruel can life possibly be?

It's much quieter than London. The air quality is visibly better. I am, actually. My closest friends are Leon and Aline. I'm living with them!

Paris is about as good a holiday as you can get. If I'm ever near you, whatever country it happens to be in, I'll be sure to see you.

The last part of your letter. I already touched upon it but not nearly enough.

I haven't said, heard or read her name in eleven months. I miss it. I miss your voice. And her laughs. She was so, so lively and enthusiastic for life.

It's so unfair that she didn't get the chance.

And I agree; she always was a fantastic listener. I told her about our issues more than I should've.

I wish I could hear her again. Her name wasn't Meline Risette Styles for nothing. Her laughs were so pretty. I could've listened on repeat.

I did. For a year.

I miss her.

I miss you. I miss your warmth. I miss your heart and your love and your smile and everything about you.

I miss normality.

When we thought things would be okay.

We were wrong, and hindsight, that's okay, too.

We will heal eventually, I trust that life can't take much more away from me.

Tout mon amour, Auriele x

Since that day, Harry's visited Meline every Sunday without fail - it's only been three weeks, but going in the first place was an unimaginable step.

He even combined Chi's walk with the most recent, and each time, entering, staying at and emerging from the cemetery becomes easier.

The first time, he paced through the gates several times before building the bravery to even step inside without running back. His flight or fight instinct had been touchy the whole time, bias towards flight the entire time.

He just wanted to be as far away from the source of his pain as possible.

At the same time, he just wanted his daughter back. Alive and healthy.

Once he'd settled, laid on the ground like a madman next to her grave, he never wanted to leave her again. He even brought her flowers and a little teddy bear from a shop he'd passed on his hurried journey there.

It was well and truly dark by the time he even considered returning home, because he'd rather be with his sweet baby than alone at home.

Now, Chi sniffs inquisitively around at the bundles of flowers placed on surrounding graves whilst Harry converses with his dead child's grave like she was as animated and eager as he remembered.

It's a little questionable for his sanity, but extremely helpful for his own mental health. And he's trying to fix them both.

He just wishes so much that he'd pushed for more tests in the hospital. If he could, he'd reject their diagnosis and prescription of heart medication and an inhaler for when her asthma flared up.

They claimed she had a weakened respiratory system and, subsequently, her heart didn't deal well under stress, mostly due to her premature birth.

They were correct.

However, they were entirely wrong when they sent you all home with a tub of medicine and advice to lower any potential stressors around her.

Harry remembers scoffing to himself; she was one, what could possibly be stressing her that much?

Apparently, a lot of things.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

There's truly nothing better.

Auriele,

I understand completely about any emotion feeling refreshing. For a while, I felt immune to it. I cried and I got angry, but nothing ever really set in.

I'm thankful that I can feel now and it doesn't destroy me.

You're not at all a bad person, or a bad parent. Often, I wish I could forget about her. And not just to remove the pain for a day or two. Also, I appreciate the honesty.

Important things must be talked about first. And while this paragraph isn't quite at the top of my letter, it certainly is my most admiritive.

You're so, so unbelievably beautiful. Even more so, now.

Your eyes are still paradise. That picture is stuck onto the cork board in the kitchen forever.

We did absolutely everything in our power to help our baby. As soon as we noticed an issue, we took her to the hospital. Maybe they accidentally underestimated her condition, maybe they just assumed it'd be treated with that medication.

Either way, we helped her as much as we could. And you were, are, and always will be the most incredible mother.

Meline was lucky, truly. She loved you so much.

As it turns out, life can be our greatest enemy. It's difficult to control and even harder to accept, but everything happens for a reason, I suppose.

Leon and Aline sound wonderful. I know it's not my place, but tell them I said thank you for being there for you? You don't have to.

I've never known someone deserve a full, healthy life more than our sweet girl, and it's an injustice to steal that opportunity from her at such a young age.

She would've been two next week. I'm sure you don't need reminding, but I'm still trying to handle my feelings about it. I already know her birthday is going to be the worst day since she died.

Meline Risette Styles deserves the world, as do you. Please don't be afraid to take it. You've earned it.

Her name still brings me so much joy; little honey, pleasant little laugh. It was such an apt description, in her short life.

Life can always take more, but it gives things that are so wonderful. Sois optimiste.

Tout mon amour et câlins, Harry x

wattpad:

#harry styles #letters #heartbreak #sad books #harry

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rottenheartedchild · 4 years ago

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Witch of Songs

It's been a long time since I've posted anything here so here's the latest Bayonetta oc using my Dragon Raja because 1. He deserves to have kickass demon/dragon powers and 2. I'm bi. Huge apologies for any mistakes in the bio, let me know so I can correct them.

Also the left pic is from kazmourner's picrew, https://picrew.me/image_maker/163761)

Character template is from Kaishos,https://www.deviantart.com/kaishos/art/character-profile-template-123273743)

General Information First name: Isidore Surname: D’Aramitz Age: 19(physically), 570(chronologically) Date of birth: 13/10/1442 Race: Umbran Witch Gender: Trans man Sexuality: Bisexual Demiromantic Current residence: Cassell College Relationship status: Currently engaged to Durante Traits of Voice Accent (if any): Slight Marseille that thickens whenever his emotion get the best of him Language spoken: English Other languages known: Enochian, French, Italian, Arabic, Russian, Spanish, very few Mandarin, very little Japanese, Turkish Style of speaking: Casual, occasionally formal Volume of voice: Deep, soft and gentle Physical Appearance Height: 5′4″,162.6cm Weight: 73kg,161lb Eye color: Pink Skin color: Dark brown Distinguishing features: Star shaped birthmark on the back Build of body: Athletic Hair color: Black with blue highlights Complexion: Combination type Posture: Slightly hunched Tattoos: Oleander flowers wrapped all over the left arm Piercings: Gold studs on the ears Typical clothing: Combat boots, billowy shirts, suspenders, pleather pants, pastel dresses, fishnet stockings, Doc Martens, distressed jeans, baggy t-shirts, old sneakers, fur coats, windbreakers, crop tops, fingerless gloves, oversized hoodies, fingerless gloves, thigh high socks, stilettos. Personality Likes: Food, music, birds, forests, stargazing, books, history, libraries, abandoned buildings, new sights, adventure novels, beaches, poisonous plants, science, diy projects, cooking, making new songs, musicals, concerts, graffiti, motor racing. Dislikes: Tacky furniture, minimalist design, elitist fans, bad hair days, exhaust fumes, strong perfumes, overcooked steaks, mafias, upper crust parties, being ordered around, bigots, racists, boring classes, older men, predictability. Education: College Fears: Christmas, dead bodies, sirens, crowds, being trapped in an empty room, doctors Personal goals: To discover more about his past and kill everyone responsible for the Black Swan massacre. General attitude: Very chill and easygoing guy but incredibly terrifying once provoked. Religious values: Agnostic General intelligence: Above average, a quick learner General sociability: Ambivert

Health Allergies (if any): Dairy products, peanuts Sleeping habits: Is a light sleeper Energy level: Mostly high Eating habits: Extremely unbalanced Memory: Eidetic memories Any unhealthy habits: Starts smoking as a way to relieve stress, or when it gets too much to handle. History Birth country: France Hometown: Marseille Childhood: Lived a relatively normal childhood with his baby sister until he was awoken with the dark arts one day, his sister with the light. Fearing for their safety, their parents sent them away to both Lumen and Umbra Clans so they could hone their gifts. Teen years: Training under Ivan’s tutelage, Isidore’s talents blossomed as he managed to take down one of the Clan’s gifted fighter, albeit with difficulties. Soon he made a pact with Monsieur Phenex, a Great Marquis of Inferno. Adult years: Accomplished in his line of duty, his next task was to be the mentor for the Master Assassin’s youngest daughter, Malika, who reminded him of his own sister. At the time, both he and an Umbran soldier, Durante, fell in love and engaged after years of courtship. Past places of residence: Vigrid, Black Swan Bay orphanage Briefly explain life story: Isidore was once a talented Witch under Ivan’s command before the Clan War erupted and nearly wiped both sides out, him included. A desperate Durante carried his and Marisol’s bodies to a far off place before sealing them in a tomb, using his gift to regress their bodies to that of a child, hoping they would be saved. 500 years have passed, and their tomb was discovered by an archeologist, surprised to see two living children sleeping in an ancient tomb. Curiosity piqued, he took the children to a man named Herzog to be studied and soon, they were placed under his care.

As time goes by, the now 19 years old Isidore lives peacefully with other orphans and even gets excited at the upcoming Christmas party when he found out Renata’s plan to ask Z as her partner. All of that were destroyed when bombs dropped out of nowhere and in his last moments was Renata pushing both him and his sister into the sea, begging them to live on. 20 passed and they woke up in a new place called Cassell College. The incident still fresh in his mind, he vow to kill every single monsters who murdered the orphan while trying to figure out those haunting scenes inside his head. Relationships Parents: Oscar D’Aramitz(deceased), Kahina Adebayo(deceased) Siblings: Marisol, Renata/Zero(adopted) Any enemies: Dr.Herzog/Osho, Bondarev/Masamune for the deaths in Black Swan Bay, the Laguna for the destruction of the Umbran clan. Friends: Erii, Aruna, Nono, Misaki, Satoshi, Johann Best friend(s): Chime, Tuncay, Aisya, Malika Important friends/relatives (explain): Ivan(His former mentor and the one who taught him how to fight), Salwa(Ivan’s wife and master of espionage Love interest (if there is one): Durante, Monsieur Phenex Combat Peaceful or violent: Peaceful, he only uses violence when it’s appropriate Weapon (if applicable): Two pairs of guns named after the children of Persephone, a scythe that can be folded into a guitar containing the soul of a fallen angel and a sphere which uses his energy to manipulate time and heal injuries. Style of fighting: a mix between capoeira , krav maga, savate, boxing, bokator and stick-fighting. Others Occupation: Student by day, indie performer by night. After graduation, he became a bounty hunter while performing in cities and campuses. Current home: Cassell college Favourite types of food: Anything savory, spicy and sour. Favourite types of drink: fruit juices and herbal tea. Hobbies/past times: Strumming his guitar, catching up with the latest events, volunteering at shelters, doing music videos, watching YouTube videos, trying out recipes, sketching, crafting, documenting plants, napping, playing video games with his sister, bird watching, foraging, gossiping with people. Guilty pleasures: Erotic novels, late night snacking, staying up late to watch livestreams, consuming copious amount of jams and spreads. Pet peeves: When people didn’t finish their food, the sound of chalkboard being scratched, strangers touching him out of nowhere, being underestimated, going on unplanned trips, noodles not cooked right. Pets: Bebe (Citron cockatoo), Astro (African Grey parrot), Marmalade and Cream (cockatiel), Onyx (crow)

#bayonetta oc #bayonetta #dragon raja #dragon raja oc #dragon raja mc #ocs #my oc #my art #original character #may or may not change #right now i'm in a bayo binge and this hits me #he lost his memories after the war and recently regains them during his time in college

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oh-boleyn · 5 years ago

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languages 101

Okay!! I did it!! I wrote fluff!! This is for @six-gifts-exchanges, and I wrote it for @enough-love-stories and I hope you like this!

Have some fluff with Cleves and Parr 💖

words: 2069, language: english. cleves & parr (friendship)

When Henry died, only two of his six wives were alive.

His fourth wife, Anna of Cleves, who he had divorced years prior but maintained a cordial relationship, even inviting her to court and granting her a castle for her own. And Catherine Parr, his six and last wife, who practically acted as a nurse in the last years of his life.

When they reincarnated, the two quickly bonded over being the “survivors”, even if only the final wife had the official title. They enjoyed each other's company, even when things got hectic in the house, they had each other’s back. Being the most relaxed queens left them the ones in charge to act as judges when chaos broke in the group.

Anna was close to Katherine too, happy to see her alive again. The fourth and fifth queens spent much time together, alone or with other queens tagging along. Taking dance classes together, eating ice cream, tea with Jane and binge-watching sitcoms were on their weekly schedules.

Parr had similar close relationships with Anne, after getting through the initial hesitation they were now usually seen together, discussing in French or talking about science. Aragon was another queen really close to the survivor, being her godmother, she had taken the role to take care of the younger woman, taking her into random trips to museums or other not-as-intellectual outings.

But still, the relationship between the second divorcee and the last queen was special. They had breakfast together almost every day, a really special moment for them to share what was going on. They confide in each other, knowing all their secrets and fears, having inside jokes and how to make the other feel better. If either of them had a problem, no matter how close they might be with the other queens, the first person they’d trust would be the other.

Tonight, the house was found with only both of them inside, having both been covered by their alternates.

“Are you in a mood for a round of chess?” Catherine asked, taking away her eyes from the TV.

“Yes, I think.” Anna responds, looking down. “I was actually going to ask you for a favour.”

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Can you teach me Spanish?” she asks.

A bright smile passes across Cathy, already shining with the idea of how to teach her best friend a language that she holds so close to her heart.

“Of course! Do you want to start now?”

Anna nods, and proceeds to say: “I will look for a pen and you go for paper.”

“You know me.” Catherine laughs.

Five minutes later they are sitting at the kitchen table across from each other. Anna covers the table with different pens, including some highlighters and glitter pens that belong to Katherine. Cathy has some white paper sheets, plus a notebook.

“I haven’t used this one yet, I wanted to save it for something important,” she handles it to Anna, “today is the day.”

“Are you sure?” The German queen wonders.

“Yes, teaching for the first time in something like five hundred years is a big deal, and teaching my favourite language to my closest friend is even more important.”

Anna accepts it. It screams Catherine Parr anyway you see it. The blue coloured front is no more than just an advance of the light blue pages inside. It isn’t squared, nor is it lined paper, instead it has dots all over it. The fourth queen appreciates it, the notebook is almost perfect for her friend, but still she decided to give it to her.

“Okay, first things first, persons. First person is yo.”

Cleves writes it down, her letter messy and cursive.

“Second person is tu.” Catherine indicates.

“Isn’t it vos?” Anna wonders.

“I mean, yes, but vos is used in only some countries, you can add it if you want to though.” Parr explains.

The go over all the persons, vosotros, ella, el, ellos, ellas. Once that’s finished, they pass over some common verbs. Yo soy, tú eres, vosotros sois, ella es, él es, ellos son, ellas son. They go quickly over explaining what eñe means, and how to pronounce it, which leads to the word cumpleaños.

“Try to introduce yourself.” Catherine offers.

“It will be a mess; I still don’t know a lot.” Anna contradicts.

“C’mon! I’m so sure you know your name.” The survivor smirks.

“Yo me llamo Anna of Cleves.” The German says, not sure about the language. “Yo tengo quinientos cuatro años.”

“Really, Anna? I am five hundred and four years old? Show off.” Cathy mocks. “Still, it was great, but you know ‘of Cleves’ is in English, like ‘Von Kleve” is in German.”

“So how is it in Spanish?”

“Anna de Cleveris.”

“Are you kidding me? That sounds… so not serious.” Anna laughs. “I refuse to be named that.”

“Whatever you say, Cleveris.” Cathy responds, with a playful look. “You can not change your name if you don’t want to. Catherine still uses Catalina sometimes.”

“She doesn’t anymore, not since Anne found that website that said that Catalina means poop.” Cleves reminds her. “But I think I will stick with ‘of Cleves’, at least for now.”

“Alright, now we continue, with for example ‘like’?” Parr offers. “It’s ‘gustar’.”

Anna checks her notes and before asking: “Yo gusto?”

“Yes, perfect. What do you like? I can give you the translation just so you can add it to your presentation.”

“I like music. And nature.” She stays thoughtful for a while. “And dogs, mate, I love dogs.”

“You can say yo gusto de la naturaleza.” Cathy explains. “Mi animal favorito son los perros.”

“That sounds like English I think I can manage.”

She writes it down, knowing that probably she is confusing S and Z, V and B everywhere.

“What was ‘dogs’ again?” Anna asks.

“Perros.”

“How do you write it?”

Cathy laughs, making Anna chuckle. Learning a new language was harder than she remembered, and it couldn’t be helpful how different Spanish was from German. Luckily for her, Parr was there to help. Walking to her side, she wrote in her distinctly calligraphy –a cursive that was maybe way too curvy, and distinctly renaissance-like– the word, marking the double R.

“There you go, linda.” She smiled.

“What did you call me earlier? A show off?” She parodies her friend.

“Oh, shut up!” Catherine giggles. “Would you mind if we take a break? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Anna agrees, carefully closing her new notebook. “Do you want something specifically?”

“I was planning to do something quick; you should keep studying!” Cathy insists. “Start exercising in Duolingo!”

“I refuse, to ever, in my life, use Duolingo.” Cleves says, with a death look.

“Then keep practicing verbs. I have a dictionary in my bedroom.”

“I think I’m fine for now, I need a little break.”

They fall into casual conversation, talking about how excited they were for spring to begin, and different ideas for a summer road trip. They discuss their favourite places from the tour, and where they would love to be back.

Talking with each other feels natural, normal. They know each other's humour, how to make the other laugh. Friendships were not something they were used to in their past lives, everyone having an ulterior motive. Allies were not friends, and in court everyone was just that, nothing more than a power relationship.

“What made you want to learn Spanish?” Catherine asks, already serving the food.

“I don’t know.” Anna answers, trying to play it cool.

“C’mon! I know you have a reason,” she insists, “but it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“It’s just a silly reason, Cathy.”

“If it was you would tell me!” Parr laughs. “I keep up with your silliness all the time.”

“Rude?” Anna mocks. “It’s just that I wanted to make you happy.”

Catherine stops for a moment, processing the information. Cleves takes the opportunity to continue.

“I know how much you love languages, and you love to teach. I just thought it would be a good way to spend our time together.” She smiles. “I also think it can be fun, plus I would like to also speak in Spanish with Aragon at some point, I know how much nostalgia she holds to it. But I also don’t want to overstep, if that’s something just between you and Aragon then that’s alright but-“

Catherine interrupts her: “It’s really thoughtful of you.”

She leaves the plates, to quickly embrace Anna into a hug.

“You think so?”

“Yes! Really, it’s just an amazing gift.” She breaks the hug. “I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes with my ranting about random things, so I’m more than happy for you to get interested in languages. Nonetheless, if you want to stop learning I won’t get mad.”

“You are never a lot to handle.” Anna insists. “You are my best friend. And I don’t think I will want to stop any time soon, I like learning. Plus, maybe I can teach you German one day.”

“Maybe not now, I already get too mixed with languages.”

Anna laughs, conscious of how many times she would drop a word in another language while trying to speak English.

They have dinner while watching a Spanish show –Anna wanted to watch some sitcom that had been sitting on her list, but Catherine insisted on watching this show about time travel, plus “you have to get used to the accents, Anna!”–, laughing at their commentary. Before they can finish the episode, the queens burst into the house, tired after the show.

“How did it go?” Cleves asks, taking her plate and Catherine’s to the dishwasher.

“Tiring.” Anne says simply, falling on the sofa. “I fell during the Megasix, now my whole being hurts.”

“I hope someone filmed it! I was singing and didn’t see her!” Katherine complains.

“I did, it was funny.” Aragon laughs.

“Mate!” Boleyn protests.

“Anyway, girls, how was your night off?” Jane wonders. “What’s up with all these pens and paper?”

“Nothing.” Anna quickly shouts from the kitchen.

“It’s just me writing stuff, Anna was helping.” Cathy explains. “Do you want ice for your butt, honey?”

“Funny.” The second queen mocks.

The six queens stay talking for a while, before finishing eating and excusing to their bedrooms. Cathy takes the notebook and pens, and takes them to her room, aware that Anna apparently wanted to keep the secret of their Spanish lessons.

She decides to give the notebook back to her friend once the rest of the queens are already in their bedrooms, going slowly up the stairs, mindful of not making too much noise. Cathy knocks the door twice, before getting it, not bothering to get Anna’s permission.

“This belongs to you.” The writer leaves the notebook on the fourth queen’s desk.

“Thank you,” Anna smiles, “I just want to get better at it, before telling the others. I don’t want to feel rushed into learning.”

“I get it, we can be a lot to handle.” Parr laughs. “I also wanted to say thank you again. It’s been so long since I taught and I haven’t realized how happy it makes me. I was afraid that it might make me remember bad moments, but I actually enjoyed it a lot.”

“You are a good teacher, maybe a bit of a jerk though.”

“We already knew that, Cleveris.”

“Whatever you say, tonta.” She playfully replies.

“How did you learn that word?” Cathy asks, confused.

“Oh, Aragon once called Anne that. Kitty and I looked it up on the internet, she also called her tarada, but I think that one is a tad more aggressive.” Cleves explains. “Also, who doesn’t know curse words? I think it’s like the first thing you learn about a language.”

“Really Anna? That’s how you learn languages?” Catherine inquires teasingly.

“Maybe.” She giggles. “What’s your favourite word in Spanish?”

The last queen thinks for a moment, before responding: “I don’t know if I have one. But there’s one I like because I don’t think there’s a real translation of it.”

“Which one?”

“Querer. It means want, but also it means loving. It’s like amar, but I like the idea of a word that is mostly directed to friendship. Friends are really important.”

“Yes, they are.” She hugs Parr. “Te quero?”

“Te quiero.” She corrects.

“Te quiero, Cathy.”

“Te quiero más, Anna.”

#six the musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #anna of cleves (six)#catherine parr (six)

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years ago

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YOU SPEAK SPANISH? im trying to learn other two languages besides it, but i'm going for spanish first cause i find it the easiest compared the others. any advice how to learn it fr? i tried duolingo but the streak dies out eventually and foreign languages classes here are expensive and not really a thing. (︶︹︺) sorry this is random but learning languages is like a life passion to me ! - crackhead anon

Oh my god NOOO DONT APOLOGIZE this is the best thing ever! Crackhead anon I love you (also don’t use duolingo, wouldn’t recommend it lmao)

Alright so here’s a fun fact. I have spoken Spanish all my life. Ever since I was a baby.

Yet I still fail Spanish class pft. (Fine not fail, I get 80-90/100 but I still suck ass at it- the reading comprehension is what saves me)

The thing with Spanish, for me it’s the whole conjugating shit. I mean it’s easier because I do speak Spanish, but I’m sure for other people its hard (I had a tough time with that in French and I think it must be the same for Spanish -though French is another thing entirely lmao-)

Also there’s these accents called tildes, they’re like úíó those little lines. For me they’re a bit hard because uh, I went to another country from 3-5th grade lmao, I totally missed all of the grammar classes for that pft

One good thing though, you get to add this new letter: ñ (I love doing the whole squiggly thing lmao.)

My advice for you would be...try and watch series that are in Spanish! That way it can totally help for the pronunciation of things! Also definetly practice a lot on the conjugation of thingies

The accents are also fairly important. Especially when you want to write something like El/Él, one is for personal male pronouns

Another example would be Te/Té, one is like uh, how do I explain it? It’s like a sort of action, and then té is just tea lmao

(I’m sorry for Spanish class I was always reading and I didn’t pay attention to any of that shit pft)

Watching some videos on YouTube would also help.

Oh and if you want to watch some series I totally recommend ‘Sin Senos si hay paraíso’ (something like that) it’s- it’s a soap opera but, ITS PFT oh lord. It’s just on another lever (the way soap operas are)

I would also recommend watching this one called Control Z, it’s Mexican, so it’s a bit different from like...uh, the Spanish on some soap operas, but they also add sprinkles of English there (they speak Spanglish lmao) and I think it’d be good to just learn the accent of stuff (just try and watch out for the wey, or ‘no manches’ there are some sayings that are like wtf in other countries that speak Spanish lmao.)

Also I don’t know if you like reading, but that could really help too! If you read you get to see the grammar and stuff way easier.

Sorry for the shitty advice pft, I just don’t really know how to explain Spanish properly. Just watch out for pronunciation and the male/female way to say things, here’s a tip tho: e-o is almost always male, and a is just female lmao.

There’s cucaracha which is female pft, and then there’s perro which is dog (or male dog, but perra means bitch so maybe don’t use that one pft.)

Oof anyway I wish you luck! Spanish is actually a really nice language, and I wish you the best!

Also fun fact if you want to laugh don’t use hahaha instead use jajaja pft

Que la fuerza the acompañe🤞

Once again sorry for the shitty advice AGHH

But looking up on YouTube some Spanish classes could really help, it’s what I’ve been doing with my Japanese 👀

#good luck #crackhead anon #Spanish is cool #the soap operas are the best thing though lmao

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constantwritingblock · 5 years ago

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Stolen Worlds 3

Queen of Thieves: Takes place just after the MC breaks up with Nikolai.

Avengers: Takes place during The Winter Soldier, but with additional characters.

Unknown!Nick Fury x reader, (previous) Nikolai Stirling x reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x reader, (eventual) Steve Rogers x reader.

Some statements:

1. Anything that’s spoken in another language will be in bold and English. Saves bad translations.

2. Any text messages will be in block capitals and bold.

Summary: The Poppy have finally found out where Y/N is. But do they finally see her after over a month of searching? Meanwhile, Y/N is making progress with Bucky into coming to grips with reality and having control of himself once again after almost 50 years of brainwashing. Natasha is beginning to get suspicious of the girl that has caught the attention of Captain Rogers.

Chapter Three

It had been over a month since they landed in Washington DC, but the Poppy had yet to figure out where Y/N was. Apart from the two sightings in some random coffee shop, she had been off the grid. They still didn’t know who had taken her, but Nikolai wasn’t going to lose hope yet just yet. The Thief Lord was determined to find her as was the rest of them, he just had more reasons why. The turmoil was building up inside of him, his regret, the pain of their breakup. It was a cliche, the saying; you don’t know what you have until you lose it. How true could that be right now. Nikolai loved Y/N and he was done denying it. Once he found her he was going to apologise profusely about not letting her in.

A knock wrapped onto his door. Jett poked his head through the gap. “Hey, we know where she is living.” Slamming down his papers onto his desk he ran out of the door there wasn’t a moment to waste when it came to Y/N. All Niko wanted was to talk to her, find out how he can bring her back home. Though, with how most of her background was hidden courtesy of Fury, he never caught on that he never knew the real Y/N.

—

“Agent Z, I’ve heard you made a lot of progress on the Soldier. He’s not resisting anymore to orders. Always ready to comply and listen. What’s your secret?” Laughing at his obvious joke Y/N shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you sir. I guess all he needed was a pretty face to get him to listen. Perhaps he was bored of just seeing men.” A roar of laughter echoed through Pierce’s office. In truth, she was right to Bucky. The more he listened and cooperated with her, the less people came into the room when she went to speak with him. She had already told him the basics of himself, leaving out important details like his real name. The Soldier knew she was holding back information, he guessed it was out of fear of him losing control of himself and turning violent, attacking her.

“Hmm… perhaps you are right, a pretty face was all he needed. You are certainly making a name for yourself within Hydra. I’ve never been happier for someone to join our cause.” Smiling to herself in success, she couldn’t resist. He’s hooked, I’ve bought and proved my way through the ranks to be trusted. The meeting soon ended. Y/N was in a very good mood. Now all she needed to do was, arrange a meeting with Steve and lie to him some more about her. She really hated this. Even more so as she began to realise her increasing attraction towards the man. But you’re still getting over Nikolai. It wouldn’t be fair to him if he was a rebound. Her mind swirled with doubts, countless thoughts of the one that broke her heart. Boy, this was gonna be a long day.

Her phone pinged as soon as she switched it on. A message from Fury came through, though it was under the ruse of her uncle in case anyone looked over her shoulder.

DON’T GO BACK TO MINE. THIEVES HAVE COMPROMISED IT.

Well shit.

—

Since his second meeting with Z, she told him she preferred to be called that, Steve had Natasha run a background check on the woman to see if she had any links to Hydra or any other enemies. As she was doing that, he decided to see if another accidental meeting was in order, or to try and arrange something to see if she cracked. He understood the spy’s trepidation with everything now that they are on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. and can’t trust anyone, but did he really listen to Fury’s advice?

The man was dead and all he had was some USB stick with vital information to help them hack into the system. Rubbing his hands over his face as he waited in a nearby park, under a tree, Steve stuck to his hat and glasses disguise in hopes of no one finding him. Hey, it worked before so why not a second time? Though, he was caught off guard by an amused voice.

“So, do you just like hiding or something?” Jumping around to see Z, he smiled. “You can never be too careful.” Greeting her with a goofy grin on his face made the woman laugh. “Well, mister careful, I’m glad we got to meet again.” Something was off about her this time, she seemed to be more cautious of her surroundings also. Pushing his thoughts to ignore it, he tried to keep up a conversation. It worked in the long run until a ping on his phone signalled a message come through. When he chose to ignore it, Z was rather curious about why.

“If it’s important, they’ll get back to m-” He spoke too soon as more messages started to flood through. “Sorry excuse me.” Was all he said as he stepped away from the woman to look.

NO KNOWN THING ON Z.

NO INFORMATION.

NOTHING.

TREAD WITH CAUTION.

I AM SUSPICIOUS SHE IS HIDING SOMETHING AND IS COVERING HER TRACKS.

VERY SKILLED IF SHE IS.

Letting out a sigh, he couldn’t believe his luck. Texting a quick response to Nat in thanks he headed back to see her acting looking around more obviously. She’s clearly avoiding something. “Hey, you alright? You seem a bit jumpy today?”

“What? Oh, sorry. I’ve been getting texts from an old ex… he was… abusive, but I refuse to let that stop me from having a good time.” It seemed like a fair answer and if she was lying he, she had no tell for him to spot.

—

Heading back into her office space, Y/N went to collect the rest of her belongings that she needed for the day. Though what caught her eye was a letter addressed to an Agent Z. A sticky note was attached to it stating it had been checked for any signs of tampering. Slowly, she picked it up. Slitting the envelope open to see the sender was none other than Casimir. Why is Nikolai’s cousin writing to me?

Letting out a sigh as she read the contents of the letter she was surprised to hear what he had to say. Something’s not adding up with me here… of course Nikolai writing me out of his letters was something, but the man never told me he was still in contact with the lunatic for one. And two, how does Casimir know I’m not with the Poppy? And how does he know my alias? Oh shit.

Pegging it out the door, Y/N realised that there was only one person that would have blabbed…

—

Facing the barrel of a gun was more what Fury was used to. It came with his job. Though, he was expecting a Nikolai Stirling not a copy of him. Perhaps his message to Y/N to not come back here was a regret of his. One of very few. “Where is she?” Was all the man kept repeating to him. He just remained silent. Fury wasn’t stupid, like he’d give up where Y/N was, especially if this man could possibly an enemy of hers from her time in the Gilded Poppy.

The sound of rustling of another person came from the door to the apartment. Tufts of light brown hair came into view before a person did. Remy Chevalier, the conman. Was the instinctive guess from a debrief by Maria. But why no Nikolai? That put him off his game slightly, surely he would’ve been the one adamant to see her from his guesses from Y/N’s behaviour whenever the man was brought up in conversation, or well lack of mentioning. An apparent French accent filled his ears, “Why not put the gun down, I doubt attempting to strike fear in the man will make him talk willingly.” Gentle coaxing wasn’t going to budge the other man, whose hand holding said weapon was beginning to shake. He’s losing his stability. That’s not a good sign. A sudden calmness washed over the former S.H.I.E.L.D. Director, a grin crawling its way on his face, while the other two looked on in confusion...

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bxstiae · 5 years ago

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alright, i decided to tackle this hylian language a bit more seriously. please refer to THIS POST though for more information. if you have any questions about what link can or cant understand, feel free to contact me. everything else will be under a read more as this will kinda be a bit extensive and tackle a few things.

please note that i am not a linguistics major, i never took a class in my life, this headcanon in basely solely on what i managed to scrap up together in my 5ish hours of looking through information & videos. it is a bit of a mess but i hope as time progresses, and i get to compare languages, i can touch and finalise this up a bit.

DO NOT REBLOG OR REUSE THIS FOR YOUR OWN HC. regardless of game.

I work hard on my HCs, i do not want this to be snatched up. if you want to discuss, then lets discuss. I have similar HC for many of the LOZ games mainly in Skyward Sword & Breath of the Wild. I am more than willing to share if you come and discuss with me. otherwise, DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING from this post without permission.

For a quick overview about Hylian and the scriptures, you can read up about it here.

please note: I AM COMPLETELY IGNORING THE TWILI LANGUAGE HERE, THAT IS FOR ANOTHER DAY.

Fortunately the Hylian scriptures for Twilight Princess ( the 4th hylian script ) is actually one of the EASIER languages to.... not only translate, but it has a more definitive lettering style ( i.e. letters aren’t repeated like they are in the other scripts ( ss & botw repeat letters ). Below is the 4th Hylian alphabet: ( taken from this site. )

please note the following:

we are NOT going to look at the wii version of the game. I have both the wii and the wiiu version, and the wiiu version reverts it back to it’s original styling. the wii version is just everything mirrored and is a bit of a hassle to explain so for our purposes, we will consider the alphabet as it’s original forme.

reading about the language got me realising that the different types of hylian could be taken from hieroglyphs ( like egyptian ), obviously japanese, & latin. you can see it throughout the 6 scripts just look:

below is the sixth hylian script:

Its important to note all of these when considering the PHONETICS of hylian. Like I said before, there are different dialects of hylian && the change depending on if its newer or older. So the accent could sound different depending on which world you are in. So the same words can be said differently depending on which Link you talk to. While each Link would understand one another, their accents would be slightly different. Since this is TWILIGHT PRINCESS link, i will discuss a bit about TP Link. As i mentioned, i do have HCs for Skyward Sword Link and Breath of the Wild Link, but I am not going to get into that.

So for how Hylians talk in Twilight Princess, i actually had to look at the names of the enemies to get an idea of the nomenclature. Here the enemy list of twilight princess. In addition to that, here are the characters of twilight princess. These names are all important as it gives a little bit of insight in regards to how they spell names and what they call things.

I looked into latin linguistics && phonetics first as it looked like the 4th hylian script seems to come from the latin alphabet for english. latin is also easier for me as half my family comes form a latin speaking family ( the other is slavic based ). I found two videos for how latin was spoken.

here is a video on latin consonant pronunciation:

youtube

&& here is the vowel video

youtube

looking back at the names of enemies in twilight princess after watching these videos, kinda helped give me a better understanding of how link would talk. essentially there are hard sounds in the names, s is NEVER z, & R’s are rolled ( most likely ALWAYS ). granted, there are some names what would be hard to say in Twilight Princess, but there are far & few in between, for the most part, you can kinda tell that they are latin based. just take aeralfos for example. the ae in that word alone is enough to tell you that there’s latin in there.

i’ve taken enough years of spanish to probably be biased as well, but i cannot ignore the fact that there are romance languages in some of the names of enemies and names of the TP people. you can also.... copy and paste their names into google translate as well to hear how a latin speaker would say it, but there are times when google translate wants to translate from italian, french, and EVEN catalan.

Obviously the japanese names for the enemies are a different story but.... then again, what is to say that hylain takes from both latin AND japanese. I wouldn’t doubt it tbh. not to mention that the gerudo reminds me of egypt due to their living conditions and style of clothing comes from egyptian roots. but that’s gerudo -- not hylian. ( though i’m sure hylians living amongst the gerudo probably have their own kind of hylian as well thats closer to gerudo roots ). Let’s also not forget that i also mentioned that twili is a FORM of hylian ( so possibly you can see latin & arabic roots there ). But we aren’t talking about twili language this is strictly hylian. so back to hylian.

my take on it is that link’s accent is heavy as in, you can tell he is a foreigner. he’s easy to hear because he speaks clearly..... ( when he speaks ) but hard to understand because it may sound like something you know, and your brain probably wants to understand, but it sounds.... off. like i said he will most likely always roll his Rs, his Cs sound like Ks, I’s with the Es, & so on.... there may be some distinction for some words & names, that sound more asian than latin, but its mainly cause as I have said before, the hylian scriptures also seem to take from a variety of languages so i would be surprised about it.

as always, i will try to further develop his language, i just... don’t have a lot to go on. if anybody knows any other language and wants to talk about this, please let me know. i would love to compare languages and see what other people think.

im sorry about this mess, i just needed to write all of this down before i forget.

#headcanon tag.#worldbuilding tag.#[ if anybody wants to discuss #my door is open ]#[ please come in and discuss with me ]

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nobodies-png · 5 years ago

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If each member was a language, what language would they be and why?

I’m assuming you mean from the OrgXIII so here you go ! This was an interesting question lolol - I had to look up and read a lot of articles on wikipedia to make sure I didn’t end up saying bad or weird shit bUT IT WAS SUPER FUN

Xemnas :

Greek, probably ? The language and culture that rivaled Latin and Rome throughout history and despite it’s age, it MANAGES to still be a living language (if you think I overthink too much about metaphors and shit just wait till you read the rest of answers). It also fits all Scala Ad Caelum’s aesthetic inspired by Greece and all the shenanigans with the Norts !

Xigbar :

LEET Speak just to give every homestucker a heart attack. Maybe just surfer speak, if it counts. Xigbar would fit Latin perfectly - it’s a dead language and the source of many other languages just like Xigbar is the fucking source of many things that go down in KH. Cryptic and old, like him ! And considering his ties with the KHux Foretellers and such, it makes sense for him to be Latin, right ?

Xaldin :

I literally have no idea why but I think of Portuguese when I think of Xaldin. I havE LIKE NO ARGUMENTS OR EXPLANATIONS, IT’S JUST A THING (tm) SO YOU’RE FREE TO ADD TO THIS. Or give him a different language to be w h e e z e.

Vexen :

You know when old people try to be hip and come up with shit like How o You Do Fellow Kids / I’ll Krump With You Sweetie ? Yeah that’s him Okay but honestly, when I was a kid I really liked the idea of Vexen just screaming shit in Latin whenever his experiments went wrong. Now that i’m older, I like to imagine the same thing except now he speaks a Slavic language. I wouldn’t be able to tell you e x a c t l y which one, though. But I guess also a language from north Europe would work, like Finnish or Swedish - mostly because the countries remind me of cold weather lol

Lexaeus :

Nghhhh, I wanna say either ASL/Sign Language or Braille - but i’ll go with Braille ! Lexaeus is a quiet man of a few words, so I think it suits him just fine to be a language that doesn’t need to be spoken. And we know he’s tactful and gentle, considering he does a lot of puzzles in his free time, so Braille seems perfect for him ! While he might not actually need Braille, Lexaeus would be that kind of guy who just teaches others how to read and tries to normalize the use of Braille !

Zexion :

A lot of people might give me shit for not making Zexion Latin bUT LIKE LISTEN. THIS SMART BOY WOULD BE SOMETHING LIKE CHINESE/MANDARIN. Think about it, we’re talking about a super flexible language whose entonation can change the meaning of a sentence completely - yes, i’m talking about that one poem that only has ONE word and it still manages to be a fully fledged story. Like, i’m an artist, not a literary major but I still think that’s super smart and dope and i’ll gladly compare that to magic anytime. In retrospect, it matches Zexion’s illusion motif and complex character !

Saix :

Uhhhh, i’d say either Japanese or Russian. Cause both are languages with strong accents and pronunciations which suit Saix’s strong and firm character - and also because Russian reminds me of NASA and space for some reason and Japanese makes me think of that one tale about the rabbit on the moon. Also Japan puts a lot of emphasis in discipline, honor and loyalty too, traits that Saix shares.

Axel :

Axel is definitely Spanish. Not to be confused with the latino dialects from South America ! I’m talking Spain’s spanish ! And no, I didn’t choose this one because it’s an “exotic sexy firey language”, tRUST ME IT’S MY FIRST LANGUAGE AND IT’S ANYTHING BUT THAT - I chose spanish because it’s an abrasive and brash language. Most words (and the insults specially) give the feeling you’re about to spit on someone’s face and be a cocky disrespectful brat OR you’re just a super friendly and extroverted fella - it suits Axel’s previous ruthless mercenary personality with his current and contrasting kind, outgoing self. 50/50.

Demyx :

Okay hear me out, it’s been like 45 minutes since I went researching to write Demyx’s answer and I still don’t know if I have a proper one. I wanted to say a language from India, since it’s where his signature sitar originates from and what else can accompany a sitar better than the language of the place it was pretty much created in ? So researched Ravi Shankar, the Sitar Maestro and a super important figure in indian classical music. But I know barely nothing about that side of Asia, so i’m NOT exactly sure what language he spoke or used in his music ! Like I looked for his songs and they’re in Gujarati, but HMMMM, NOT SURE CHIEF.

So if anyone feels like educating me on this subject, please go ahead. Otherwise I have to give Demyx the way us millennials talk and oH boy.

Luxord :

I’ll go with the obvious choice here : English. Like, back in the day, most people just HC’d Luxord as a britishman because of his mannerisms and etc etc - but like, it works for him ! He’s closely tied to Alice and Wonderland in both the game and the manga, as well as Pirates of the Caribbean like come on it’s rIGHT there. Also imo, british English just sounds like super polite and elegant, the way Luxord acts most of the time.

Marluxia :

Either German or the language of flowers. German because it’s That Type Of Language™ that seems to have a word for every specific thing, action and feeling no matter how obscure - which kinda seems to suit him somehow ? A language with a rough appearance, intimidating to most people due to the hard sounds but eloquent, deep and extensive ! The other option is pretty obvious, considering his power with nature and stuff - Marluxia is definitely the time to give bouquets and flowers as gifts with double edged meanings and intentions.

Larxene :

The only one that comes to mind is French. Just cause I think Larxene reads french literature in the 358Days manga - but like, dark and smart stuff only Intellectuals™ can understand. And also because it’s a tricky language to speak properly (LISTEN I TOOK 5 YEARS OF FRENCH AND I STILL DIE WITH ALL THE VOWELS). There’s just something about the way it’s spoken that screams her name. It’s fast paced, coquettish, sounds mature, there’s a lot of sharp sounds. Y’know !

Roxas :

Not specifically a language, but Roxas reminds me of the mix every bilingual person speaks sometime when they can’t remember a specific way of saying or explaining something. Or when your group of friends is mostly bilingual too and y’all just mix both languages and it’s a fucking mess for outsiders ? ( Like “Me cago en la fucking madre que te parió” o “I swear to god pOR QUE ERES ASI” are examples from the groupchat I am, wheeze). So probably Spanish and English !

Xion :

I’m torN AGAIN between ASL/Sign Language and Braille. But I think i’ll go with sign language ! Not to get Deep and Philosophical, but Sign Language seems to fit Xion, someone whose voice was silenced by those around her. We know she’s timid and quiet, but she’s also young and energetic, quick and witty around her friends - so unlike Lexaeus who’d calmly read using Braille, Xion is the type who’d sign at the speed of sound when excited or panicking and she’d enjoy sending secret messages to her friends.

#kh headcanons #organization xiii #Anonymous #xemnas #xigbar #xaldin #vexen #lexaeus #zexion #saix #axel #demyx #luxord #marluxia #larxene #roxas #xion

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hvndcvffed · 5 years ago

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“ let me just –– can you –– uh. ” grizz clears his throat and raises a finger. because this? oh, boy. stomaching this shit without laughing mandates a breather. “ hold that thought for a moment while i collect myself. s’been quite the day and i want to give you my undivided attention. ”

or, alternatively : yo yo yo, party people ! guess who finally made it ? i’m lev / linc ( she/her/hers ) , comin’ atchu from the ever so lovely est timezone with ya boy, the tru ledge, grizz visser! click on that read more to read some headcanons i’ve got goin’ for west ham’s resident handcuff-owning, intellectual beb !

[ g r i z z v i s s e r –– B O Y O N F I R E .

✔ ┊❝ ( nick robinson. 18. he/him &. cismale ) rumor around town is that gareth “grizz” visser was on one of the buses that left for the field trip. they’re the eighteen year old that resides in new ham. over the summer news spread that he purposely botched his chances to win a football scholarship to a local uni because he applied to several ivies behind his parents’ backs, but who knows if that’s true or not? what we do know is that their friends describe them as well-read & piquant, but who knows when they’re known to be elusive & misanthropé from time to time.

( &&. general information )

full name: gareth visser

nickname(s) or alias: grizz

preferred name: grizz –– call him gareth and he will... not be happy.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: leo

gender: cismale

preferred pronouns: he/him

sexual preference: homosexual ( but closeted )

romantic preference: demiromantic

home environment: a quaint three-bed / two-bath house with his parents. a positive, almost sickeningly sweet home: family portraits all over the place, cheesy “ home is where the heart is ” décor all around from his mother’s many trips to pier 1 imports.

current occupation: student, student athlete.

language(s) spoken: english, french, a tad of latin. wants to learn more hebrew, but that shit is complicated as heck.

native language: english.

current relationship status: single.

( &&. background )

reason behind name: y’know, he’s asked his parents this countless times. why gareth? why. gareth. and each time he’s just gotten the same vague response: they liked it. it sounded respectable. ack.

birth order: only child.

ethnicity: american. west ham born & raised, baby!

nationality: american.

religion: agnostic. goes to church with his mother as a way to keep the peace, but... the idea of a god out there saying homosexuality’s a sin gives him a bad taste in his mouth. he’d rather discount his whole existence and uphold morality than accept that there’s a bigoted big guy in the sky. sees the bible more as a literary exercise to instill human value. did jesus really walk on water? heck no. but it makes a good fable.

political views: very, very liberal. doesn’t subscribe to labels, but as close to democratic socialist as you can get in this country without causing riots. anti-brexit. anti-trump. anti-bullshit, basically. maybe socialism or communism done right wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

financial status: very, very comfortable. his parents earn well and know how to save / spend frugally. the vissers are modest in living so they can pour more into experience. for grizz’s twelfth birthday, his parents took him hiking through the adirondacks. they’ve gone on some awesome trips together, and most of their vacations include some aspect of super cool nature. unbeknownst to grizz, his parents’ planned grad gift for him was a month-long backpacking tour through new zealand.

hometown: west ham, connecticut. cool beans.

level of education: high school senior. but he’s one of the learned folk: ap literature on lock. he took some college courses at the local community college last summer, because his job as a summer camp counselor wasn’t exactly intellectually stimulating. leading kids on hikes is fun ‘n all, but... not as engaging as college-level philosophy.

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): nick robinson. with longer hair. reference [ here ] .

height: 6′0 ( jack’s shorter, but nick’s my main fc i’m workin’ with so i decide to bump it up. plus, height? football? makes sense. )

weight: 158 lbs

shoe size: 10.5

figure/build: athletic build. muscular. broad shoulders, lean waist.

hair colour: deep, deep brown. almost black. natural.

hair length: about jaw-length. curly. ( REFERENCE. )

eye colour: brown with an overlay of hazel-y jade-green. his campers over the summer compared his eyes to moss a lot. it kinda felt badass. “moss boss” had a ring to it.

glasses?: nope. 20/20 vision. but he’s been known to steal friends’ glasses sometimes, just for funsies.

skin tone: light, but not necessarily pale – spends a lot of time outdoors. no freckles.

tattoos: none, yet. would love to get a quote from walden. or a pine tree, if it wasn’t so cliche.

piercings: none. but getting an ear pierced has always intrigued him.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: some miscellaneous scars on his hands from whittling incidents growing up. a faint line across his arm from stitches, when he broke it in the peewee football league in fifth grade.

dominant hand: left-handed, but very recently learned he’s marginally ambidextrous for important tasks.

if painted, what color are their nails?: never painted. he keeps them short.

usual style of clothing: letterman jacket. jeans. tall socks, boots. pants tucked into socks, because why the hell not? flannels, hoodies, utility jackets layered over plain white tees. pendant necklaces, leather bracelets. occasionally he’ll wear a statement button-downs that looks like your grandmother’s upholstery, but somehow it’ll work really well. varsity t-shirts. hats of all varieties. if he could, he’d showcase some edgier styles. but he’s paranoid. he’s got a stanford hoodie buried in his closet. and a yale one, too.

frequently worn jewelry: leather bracelets. a silver ring strung on a chain, engraved with “ for sylvie, with love ”. he found it on a hike, and... figured he’d be sylvie for a day, or something.

describe their voice, what accent?: he has a light, gentle voice. a soft autumn breeze. laced with some gravel. strong, resolute. kind.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: often speaks slowly, surely. not always keen to fill silences. but words are some of his favorite devices of deflection. if he’s unsure, he’ll cut himself off, leading to some choppy and hard to follow sentences. he very rarely mumbles. not afraid to speak eloquently, but will certainly match his speaking style to those he’s around, to an extent. rarely seems bothered. he masks it well.

describe their scent: amber, sandalwood, musk. vague hints of cinnamon.

describe their posture: grizz holds himself proudly. shoulders broad, chin up, chest open. it makes his vulnerable moments very easy to spot.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?: nope. this kid drives by the book. probably because he very much prefers to walk or bike around town, when he can help it.

have they ever been arrested?: never. he’s only been to the police station once, to drop off some promotional donuts for the homecoming football game.

do they have a criminal record?: nah.

have they committed any violent crimes?: no sir.

property crimes?: no.

traffic crimes?: nope! unless you count accidentally cutting cars off with his bike, because that’s happened a handful of times, when he’s been deep in thought.

other crimes?: just breaking hearts.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: o negative.

date/time of birth: july 26, 1997. 3:23am. during a rainstorm.

place of birth: west ham hospital.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: male

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?: no / yes / marijuana.

addictions: does good lit count?

allergies: sulfur-based antibiotics. bullshit.

ever broken a bone?: his left arm in fifth grade. right foot at the seventh grade dance –– the girl he asked to slow dance tripped and grizz, wanting to show off his cool socks, wound up with a stiletto heel to the talus. ouch. collar bone, freshman year of high school: he climbed a tree to save his neighbor’s cat and slipped.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: nope.

any medication regularly taken: allergy meds. sometimes he gets the sniffles.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them: UNO. DOS. TRES. QUATRO.

positive traits: charismatic, cunning, introspective, virtuosic.

negative traits: cataclysmic, self-destructive, reckless, careless.

likes: classic literature, trail mix, synth vibes, 60s/70s/80s rock, the beatles, radiohead, faith by george michael. old vinyls. bob ross. vanilla-cinnamon candles and jasmine tea. wind-rustled leaves. fresh fallen rain.

dislikes: bitter coffee. the disappointment just after sunrise. katy perry. cleaning, laundry. the warmer side of the pillow. waking up without a hand to hold. gareth. secrets, but he harbors a few big ones. pretending. hiding. transitively, himself.

strengths: can be quite resolute but sometimes about the wrong things. his ability to analyze and respond to complex literature is… uncanny. intelligence. deduction. survival facts. he’s a postmodern bear grylls trapped in suburbia.

weaknesses: impatience. do-it-yourself attitude. fear of rejection. fear of acceptance. fear of others. fear of himself.

insecurities: what if people in west ham discover who he really is? how’s he supposed to postpone that?

fears/phobias: irrelevancy. book-burning. ignorance. time.

habits: playing with his fingers. biting his bottom lip and twisting it between his teeth. humming when he thinks no one is listening. going for late-night walks through the emptiest parts of town. staying up ‘til 4am to read and re-read and read again.

quirks: rarely settles his gaze on anything for more than a few seconds, except for other peoples’ eyes. eye contact is probably one of grizz’s biggest conversational strengths. probably why he makes such a good liar, when he needs to. he’ll finish a pint of ice cream and just sit there for over an hour sucking on the spoon, lost in thought. licks his lips when he’s nervous. plays with his hair a lot. you know he’s nervous when he keeps tucking his hair behind his right ear. chuckles to himself, even when things are the pure opposite of funny.

hobbies: jotting notes in book margins. he dabbles in poetry but feels like his shit is too beat-generation to be that cool. wandering through the woods and attempting to generate his own maps, then checking them for accuracy. lighting matches in the cold, mid-evening air just to watch them burn.

guilty pleasure: peanut m&ms. twizzlers. burned marshmallows. apartment tour videos on youtube.

desires: to prove he’s… sometime more than this. something more than a footballer destined to pretend.

wishes: he could come clean about college. wishes he could come clean about himself. wishes he could work up the courage to ask a guy to prom.

secrets: he purposefully botched an interview he had with central connecticut state university’s football recruiter because he doesn’t want to play in college. he wants to go to yale, or stanford, or brown. to study literature. classics. philosophy. his sexuality. but it’s getting harder and harder to keep that locked down.

turn ons: intelligence. genuine, pure intelligence. sharp-witted humor. dimples. dorky laughs. gentle touch. someone who doesn’t bother with worries ‘bout tomorrow.

turn offs: idiocy. khakis. people with too much pride. line cutters. naggers. people who don’t think the proper way to eat bugles is by fashioning crisp-claws first and pretending to be edward scissorhands. people who overlook adrienne rich’s poetry, or claim dante shouldn’t be taught in school.

lucky number: 0.

pet peeves: hearing people scratch their scalps. sniffly public transit users. people who don’t use earbuds. cold fries. nail-clickers. knuckle-crackers. people who slurp from straws like they’ve never had a drink before in their lives.

their motto: “ i’m surrounded by idiots. ”

( &&. favourites )

food: curly fries with cajun seasoning.

drink: half-oreo half-chocolate milkshake. extra whipped cream. two cherries. please.

fast food restaurant: he’s not huge on fast food, but he can fuck with five guys.

flavour: anything chocolate and peanut.

word: fuck !!! or zephyr: a soft, gentle breeze.

colour: a nice, deep forest green.

clothing: his letterman jacket. his deep green flannel’s a close second.

accessory: “ for sylvie, with love” . silver ring. he likes pretending he’s sylvie and that someone cared enough to get his name etched into a precious metal forever.

candle scent: the connecticut homesick candle. it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla and fireside bliss. and pine trees. yum.

game: monopoly. but only if he wins.

animal: fish. they’re so graceful.

holiday: halloween. boo.

weather: sunset, just after rain. golden rays peering through deep gray clouds. it makes the greens of trees practically scream against the sky. it’s glorious. it’s heartbreaking. grizz loves it.

season: late fall.

book: le petit prince by antoine de saint-exupéry. it was the last book his grandmother ever read to him, on his fifth christmas eve.

artist: edvard munch. or van gogh, simply because he chopped his ear off and mailed it to his lover. now that’s modern romance.

band/group: the divine comedy, radiohead, pink floyd, the beatles, the rolling stones, the kooks. the avett brothers. belle & sebastian.

song: high and dry, radiohead. elephant, tame impala. anything by the beatles.

movie/film: mr. nobody. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. the first time little grizz saw alice in wonderland, he wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks.

tv show: he grew up watching wallace and gromit. he’s still got a soft spot for it.

sport: football.

possession: his dad’s collection of beatles original release vinyls.

number: 0.

person: henry david thoreau.

( &&. skills )

talents: writing, but he won’t admit it. football. wood-whittling. gardening. navigation.

ability to drive a car?: yes.

can they ride a bike?: yes, and will frequently do so with no hands.

do they play any sports?: football.

anything they’re bad at?: juggling. sleeping. pretending to like gross food.

do they have any combat training? why?: grizz once yahoo answered how to punch somebody to the moon, after one of his best friends got made fun of in grade school for accidentally wearing a costume the day before halloween. he’s still waiting for an answer to that post.

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: waging what was left of his fruit gummies during a game of fireside poker on the first visser camping trip.

crush: matty kerrington, pre-k. his hair smelled like strawberries and his smile reminded grizz of the hot honey that clung to his mum’s spoon after stirring tea. but to this day, he’ll say his first crush was amanda vander-voss, because her hair was pretty in braids and she reminded him of the pretty deer from bambi.

email address: [email protected]

job: camp counselor at a hiking / adventure camp based in west ham.

phone: a nifty samsung with a slide-out keyboard. made him feel like a god.

kiss: jessica winthrop, in a game of third grade truth or dare.

love: tess de luca ( @tessdl )

sexual experience: with jessica winthrop in the woods behind the middle school, three years later. jess got poison ivy in all the wrong places. grizz thought it was hysterical.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?: honestly? wearing that boa in dance class. his mom was quick to stop that.

worst childhood memory?: nearly breaking his nose on the neighbor’s front porch, while attempting to ding-dong ditch with his friends. he’s not sure what gave them away more –– his blood staining their pavement, or the fact that he blubbered the whole run home.

what were they like as a child?: grizz tended to poke his nose into all the wrong matters, landing him in oodles of trouble. he’d steal from the snack cabinet, sketch constellations across the walls… even stole his dad’s old walkman so he could listen to music under his covers past his bedtime. tried to sneak into the library after hours to get his hands on another thoreau novel. but it was all harmless. the vissers weren’t very firm disciplinarians: they just loved that their son was engaged and passionate about knowledge.

any crushes growing up?: oh, loads. more than he’d like to admit.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?: inexpensive, but lasting.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygenic.

open-minded or close-minded?: open.

introvert or extrovert?: ambivert. thrives in social settings but the mood has to be right.

optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic with a weak optimistic veil. pragmatism, is how he’d put it.

daredevil or cautious?: cautious daredevil.

logical or emotional?: a blend of both, but emotions often influence his actions more than he’d like to say.

generous or stingy?: generous.

polite or rude?: polite when it’s socially mandated. but if there’s no threat of repercussions? a bit rude, if he has to be.

book smart or street smart?: both.

popular or loner?: popular, by proxy. but grizz vibes with some solid solitude, especially to recharge.

leader or follower?: leader. follower, though, in the high school structure of things. it’s a way to ensure his place and avoid potential fallout. he’ll call his friends out if they’re up to no good, though.

day or night person?: night. definitely night.

cat or dog person?: both! prefers cats just a smidge more.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?: open. maybe his demons wanna cuddle or some shit.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to instagram and (begrudgingly) snapchat.

if so; name on facebook: none.

instagram user: grizzvisser

snapchat user: grizzybear

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: kimochi warui ( when? when? when? ), car seat headrest. god... get him OUT of this town.

makes them sad: blackbird, the beatles. his grandparents used to sing this when he’d sleep over/ they’d be in the kitchen early in the morning trying to convince him to eat his cereal. they’d change the lyrics and snap slightly off-tempo, all smiles and coaxing gestures. ave maria. he’s not sure why. it inspires melancholia.

makes them dance: hazy miss daisy, kid bloom. anything with a sick beat and erratic synth. take on me, a-ha. good times bad times, led zeppelin.

loves the most: fool of myself, the band camino. it’s a song he can throw his head back to, close his eyes, and sway in the breeze.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?: yep, used to, but now that’s not necessary!

are they a virgin?: nope siree!

describe their signature: it’s unapologetic on the page. takes up more room than it should with lateral squiggles and grandiose swirls. G and V are decipherable, but everything else is convoluted by its own physics. a muddled mess. beautiful in its self-collapsing structure.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?: he’d outlive everyone. survivalist visser, right here.

do they travel?: yes, but he wants to do more, see more. the grand canyon would be cool. or maybe the alps. he’s always had a dream of hiking yosemite.

one place they would like to live: anywhere but here.

one place they would like to visit: new zealand. australia. hawaii.

celebrity crush: young johnny depp. emma watson.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: tic tacs, but never the mint ones. only the odd flavors.

place(s) your character can always be found: anywhere with trees. rooftops. alleyways. the football field. coffee shops. the local diner. roadside sunflower fields. his parents’ garden.

when does your character like to wake up?: with the sun.

what’s your character’s morning routine?: blink at the ceiling for about 20 minutes. wash his face, brush his teeth. annotate a few lines of whatever book he’s reading. push-ups, pull-ups, crunches. run a mile or two. rush into the shower. grab his lunch from the fridge and bike to school (and barely make it).

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?: grizz’s mom loves to cook, so they’re always trying some new paleo trend. some of it’s awful. but he’ll try to eat it and if he can’t, he’ll sneak a granola bar later. if the school’s serving smiley face fries, he’ll have those. he really likes green apples and those little clementines.

how does your character spend their free days?: hiking. reading. writing. lying in the sun and just... thinking. lately, he’s been daydreaming a lot about an ivy league education. something more engaging than west ham’s high school snoozefest.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?: some kind of pre-bed stretching routine. wash his face, brush his teeth, curl up in bed with a book. fall asleep with it still open on his chest.

what does your character wear to bed?: boxers and a t-shirt.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: the past. mistakes. time ticking away.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?: he’s still workin’ on that bit.

on what occasions do they lie?: very rarely, if he can help it.

most marked characteristic: his hair. it’s all russet waves. untamed. some days, his hair truly has a mind of its own. it screams free spirit. it doesn’t let on that, inside, his soul is burning.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?: honestly? it’s not so much what he’d want to change about himself as it is about this town.

how would they like to die?: well-read.

do they snore? not unless he’s got a head cold. then there may be a few soft snores here and there.

can they curl their tongue?: yes!

can they whistle?: yes indeed!

do they believe in the supernatural?: not really. but it’s fun to indulge on halloween. did he move your cup, or did the ghouls?! s p o o k y .

has anyone ever broken their heart?: no. haven’t had the opportunity to.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?: yes. little marsha lapone’s, at summer camp. she was 8, he’s 18. he told her there was no chance, and she cried into her pb&j. tough.

are they squeamish?: no.

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?: just in films.

are they a lightweight?: heck no.

that was a very lengthy thing but... yeah! hit me up for plots! i’m gonna get to crafting and replying to starters v shortly!

#newhamhq:intro #ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ɪ ᴀᴍ ! ɪꜱᴍꜱ.

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ticklikeabomb · 6 years ago

Text

The Marvel Parody - Chapter 4

Pairing (in the futur) : Chris Evans x Plus Size!Reader

Warnings : Language ; spelling mistakes ; getting political

Word Count : 1.265

Author’s Note : Some reactions of the cast (beginning of the chapter) were added after @prettybubblesintheair suggested it. :)

NAME CHANGES -> Peter Quill = Petra Quill ; Tony Stark = Tonya Stark ; Peter Parker = Petra Parker ; Dr.Steven Strange = Doctress Stephanie Weird ; Thanos = Anus…Hope you like it xD

Prelude Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Change of scenery obliged, the show paused for 10min in order to put the landscape corresponding to the planet Titan. The small break allowed us to change into our next characters and the audience to relax a little.

« Omg, this is sooo good. I wasn’t expecting this », said Letitia.

« Right, I mean that « ghost app » part had me wheezing. I can’t », exclaimed Tom Holland with a heavy British accent.

« Why did they put me as a fucking stuffed eagle toy?! », said Mackie. Which led half of the cast to laugh loudly, especially Sebastian. « I mean, come on! », continued Mackie. « Ohh, don’t whine Choclatchino, you never looked better », voiced Sebastian. At that, Holland laughed and Mackie just gave him a stern look, which led the youngest of the cast to laugh even louder.

« I’m really impressed by the scenery and their outfits. The details are really on point. And let’s not forget how beautiful those girls are », remarked Brie Larson. « Right, I was thinking the same », the other female co-stars agreed.

« What about you Evans, you haven’t said much? », Hemsworth asked. Everyone turned to their castmate. « Oh, I love it so far. I’m really looking forward for the rest », he said with a wild grin.

« Is that so. Whyyy? Does it have to do with a certain Bucky impersonator??, implied RDJ. That comment got everyone to turn to the freshly 37-year old, smiling and hollering. « Ahh guys, stop. I’m enjoying it. It’s hilarious. The references are clever and whoever wrote this piece clearly knows what she’s talking about. And besides, that Captain girl really got my Cap mimics», affirmed Evans with a slightly nervous giggle.

« Dude, admit it. That Y/N caught your eye. You can’t deny it, we saw you looking at her even if she wasn’t the one speaking » - Pratt. « Arrgh fine. I admit. I was intrigued the minute she stepped on stage an hour ago », Evans admitted.

« Oh my little boy growing up so fast », told RDJ.

« Why aren’t we talking about the fact that they renamed me Anus? », stated Josh Brolin playfully.

Everyone laughed at that. Clearly, everybody was enjoying their evening.

The lights were dimmed which indicated that the show was continuing. The stage arbored some wrecked car pieces that we painted in orange nuances to give that Titan planet vibe. For this part, the characters on stage were Sarah as Petra Quill , Kelly as Tonya Stark , Emily as Mantis , July as Drax (invisible) so she will play Anus , Jen as Petra Parker and you as Doctress Stephanie Weird.

Stark, Weird and our disguised Spider were ambushed by the Guardians.

« Who are you? Where is Gamora? », asked Petra Quill

« Ehm, I’ll do one better : Who is Gamora? » - Tonya

« No I’ll do one even better : HOW is Gamora? » - the voice of Drax resonated.

« Where does that voice come from », you asked confused.

« I’m the Destroyer Drax. Because I destroy things and then I tell them my name », the voice responded. « I’m also invisible, when I’m quiet ».

You were looking at your fellow earthlings for help and they seemed as lost as you.

« To whom you respond to?, asked Tonya

« Wakanda question is that? What am I supposed to say : Beyoncé? », Quill interjected.

The audience was cracking up and that gave the team and especially you a relieving feeling. They were liking it.

Mantis touched Parker and declared « Oh boy, you don’t feel so good ». « How do you know? »… « Well maybe if you haven’t drank all those juice boxes as I told you not to, you wouldn’t feel so bad », announced Tonya. « Sorry mom », answered Parker.

Once they established that they all had the same goal - kill Anus, they assembled in order to make a plan.

« That plan is terrible. Just like your make-up, you should check that », Quill said to Tonya, who gave him an annoying look in return.

Meanwhile they were figuring out what to do, you were seated on a rock, legs crossed and playing with your enormous eye necklace. Putting in front of your face pretending to be Big Brother watching everyone and grinning. Until you were caught by the characters and tried to look elsewhere and pretend doing tricks with your hands. While doing so you managed to pull out some orange frisbees (p.s. it’s supposed to be the magic coming out of Strange hands).

« Yup, we’ve got some Georges Meliès tricks up in here », you declared. ( Meliès was one of the first french film directors. He discovered by stopping the camera, he could create illusions, he’s basically the first one to invent special effects). Behind those frisbees was a small word saying that the person who caught it, would have a free drink at the bar.

« Can I throw them? », asked Parker.

« Sure, kid », you handed them over.

Stark and Quill were finishing their argument when Mantis declared « Miss Stark, is your friend alright? ». They all turned to you, shaking.

« Hey, what’s going on? »

« I was seeing the futur in order to calculate our chances of victory «

« What did you see? », asked Stark

« I saw that we’ve got 99 problems and that bitch is one », you announced.

« Weird », commented Drax

« No, Jay-Z », you replied.

« Ok, you’ve gotta stop those references. No more cultural references for you », Stark said angrily.

You frowned at him « I can’t help it, I’ve got loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA », you told him.

« Really, Lamar?! »

« What, I can’t just quote Jay-Z and ignore the master of poesy. That wouldn’t be fair », you replied.

« Touché », claimed Stark. « Fine, you may continue those puns ».

You gave him a smug smirk and winked.

Everyone got in position and you remained on stage with Tonya.

« Weird can I ask you something? - Tonya

« Yes », you replied.

« Well now that there’s only both of us, tell me why so many cinematic references? I mean there are a lot. You do are conscient that half of the audience don’t necessarily get them?», asked Tonya perplexed.

« You know, you can’t trick passion, you can’t fake it. That’s why I can’t hold back on them.

« What about all those puns? »

« What you Americans don’t like jokes? Odd, considering there’s one living in the White House right now », you exclaimed. You knew this part of the show could be tricky. Some ‘ooohs’ and ‘buurnnnn’ were heard in the audience along with hollering.

« You just went there. We don’t really do politics in this building », retorted Tonya.

« Don’t we? Are you sure? Because what we’re doing right now is Art. Those performances that we do is Art. Art is political ! Showing skin as a plus size female is political. Denouncing the inequalities in a dance is politic. It’s fighting the patriarchy. It’s fighting society standards about how as a female you should look like, how you should behave, how you should talk, how you should be sexually actif or not. And that’s what we do here. So yes, I think we do politics and we happen to use the strongest item as a tool : ART », you told.

During your speech, a few people stood up, clapped and cheered. Among them the female cast but also some of their male co-stars.

« Preach queen, preach », you heard Brie Larson yelling.

« I never saw it like that. But you’re right. » - Tonya

« Good talk Stark », you said smiling « And ohh… about the audience not understanding half the references, don’t underestimate them. (you looked at the public) They drink and then they know things ».

« Smooth Weird, smooth. I understood that reference »

At that double pun, you couldn’t help and grinned widely.

*gifs not mine, credit to owners*

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