#stai lí

[iicheeze]

ANNOYING LOVELY NEIGHBORS!

yoimi || nagonohara yoimiya

24 yo

owner of the nagonohara fireworks

likes to experiment the handmade fireworks near the apartment

one time she accidentally set it up in her apartment

got sent to the hospital that day

still likes fireworks somehow

likes to have tea parties with the women who live in the apartment

has the hottest gossips from all the tenants of Teyvat Apartments

yes she has friends all over the apartment

and sometimes ‘ friends ’ she doesn't like but the people think of her as a friend so they spill their secrets

just npcs tho dw

and thats how she has the hottest gossips

“ weird ” — Scaramouche

“ shut up her tea is the best ” — [Name]

kesimp || Kèqíng

26 yo

has a fat massive amount of merch by the famous pianist, Zhōng Lí

comes to every concert he has possible in China

doesn't let anyone come into her bedroom cuz

yk

says that she doesnt like tea parties but comes anyways becuz the others 'insisted'

(liar, she loves it)

says that she likes Zhōng Lí's piano skills solely becuz of his skills but in reality considers him as a god (not in a weird way)

sometimes when she's busy at work and doesn't have time to actually go to his concert, she watches his live instead

loyal Zhōng Lí fan

also an overworker

sometimes she'd overwork herself sm her boss has to personally give her some days off cuz her eye bags r getting too dark

only Gānyǔ, her co-worker, knows of her obsession with Zhōng Lí

has a not-so-obvious crush on her co-worker

AUNTY 🫂💕‼️ || Nahida

is actually 45 years old

aunty of the apartment residence

very smol but very big heart and very big brain

something went wrong with her genes but her brain is very big indeed

still kinda like a child since she sometimes says "dook-dook" instead of shit

the number one reason why scaramouche and [name] moved to this certain apartment

likes to read and buys a lot of novels

has to show her drivers license to the police over 50 times to show that she aint a child

doesnt like beer or wine and prefers juice instead

LOVES to come to tea parties and often brings cookies and sweets there

aroace

zuzuha || kaedehara kazuha

28 yo

lives with his husband Tomo

tho Tomo rlly likes to challenge Raiden Senshi of the Raiden Martial Group

got hospitalized several times becuz of it

main reason why he got banned from ever entering it again

rumors say he smokes weed

he doesnt

just try taking care of a Tomo

was originally arranged to be married to a woman by his clan

turns out hes gay

and eloped with Tomo to Teyvat Apartments

very gentleman

househusband core

likes to play Majiang (Mah Jong) with elderly ppl at the park

xiaomi || xiāo

48 yo with very good genes (its the asian genes i swear)

famous violinist

is Zhōng Lí's apprentice but decided to be a violinist to harmonize with him (sunny and mari)

there used to be a lot more apprentices of Zhōng Lí, but they were all bullied by the audience saying that they were just bland copies of him but worse so they quit

xiāo's the only one who stayed

but becuz of that, his mental health deteriorates within every concert he does

considers of quitting more than once but doesn't becuz he signed a contract with Zhōng Lí and doesn't plan to break it

but they have a pretty nice father son relationship

anyways

tries to practice the flute in secret but one time he tried to do it at his balcony and it let out a high pitched sound so he never touched it again

lives at the penthouse of Teyvat Apartments (bro's rich)

bro can afford fancy food but prefers home-made food

when [name] and scaramouche moved in to the Apartment Residence, [name] introduced themselves to him and had no idea of his occupation

often gets asked to eat dinner tgt by the tenants despite of his social status

everytime he struggles with socialization, def goes to Zhōng Lí for advice

big bitch || arataki itto

30 yo

if nahida's the aunty of Teyvat Apartments, he's the uncle

likes to play cards with kids

sometimes likes to teach them how to gamble and Majiang (Mah Jong) too

def would be like one of those asian grandmas or aunties who'd yell profanities when they lose at Majiang (Mah Jong) or cards

also likes to gamble with the older tenants of the apartments (nahida, xiao, yae miko, dehya, etc)

if nahida wins he'd try so hard not to cuss at her cuz she plays calmly

if the other ppl wins then be prepared for a butt load of crap of words you dont know exists

it goes the same way for other ppl than itto too

Majiang especially

nahida's the only calm one there, the others arent

they'd stand up from their seats, yelling chinese cusses, japanese cusses, indian cusses, pointing at each other aggressively

what a normal game night

TAGLIST || @stellakito @crueldinasty @hysteriablues @hoesaria @dreamsofminnie @caffeine-mess @alatusorrow @lunaeclipsethesimp @lxkeeeee @myaaones @withloveminnie @shewolfniko @aeongiies @qwnelisa @liliumaraneae @candlebathwater @seirin-eyy @feiherp @nxsh30 @loivre @imdeadlyboredhelp @hotgirlshit5 @worldhardtibbysoft @mitsu-moshi @mono1606 @zomzomb1e @vvyeislazzy @crucnhice @omlxlaure @iethairs

@ownedbythescribe @mishtae @aloflapse @divinechicha @thefandomcrow @d4y-dr3am3r @tjjjrsj @certaindreampost @minninr @angelkazusstuff @zyilas @lumpywolf @haruaikawa @xiaosonlybeloved @reconaiise @yuyan @myoreiii @lordbugs @theaudacitiedmentose @scaravibe @exphhoria @venusflwers @ohmyfinggod @niyaiiz

BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU! IF THERE ARE ANY SORTS OF CHANGES TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!

SUMMARY II in which, a sassy and bitter househusband, and his beloved, idiotic streamer of a lover got married! what a lovely occasion. now, for the married life in a newer, and bigger apartment.

PAIRINGS || Househusband Scaramouche x Gaming Streamer GN Reader

MASTERLIST || IDIOT GAMER!

AUTHOR'S NOTES || pls note that this takes place in China, Beijing

ALSO IF THERES ANY MISTAKES IN LIKE CHINESE CULTURE PLS TELL ME I MIGHT GET SMTH WRONG

[ilsilenteloquaceblog]

Lei: “GUARDAMI… sto invecchiando.

Il mio fisico è cambiato. La pancia è PIÙ… gonfia,

le cosce son PIÙ… grosse e i fianchi… aaahhhh!!!!

E tu?!? Perchè stai lí, in silenzio, senza dir niente?”

Lui: “Perchè a Me piaci così, PIÙ… DONNA.”

Il Silente Loquace ©

— @ilsilenteloquaceblog

[wheelchair-wizard]

Irish Mythology

VOL 5 A Mermaid Sad Love Story

The Legend of Lí Ban

In the ancient days when the sea and land were closely intertwined, there lived a mermaid named Lí Ban. Her beauty was unmatched, and her voice could weave enchanting melodies that echoed across the waves.

Lí Ban was no ordinary mermaid. She possessed a magical red cap called the “cohuleen druith”, which allowed her to move freely between the depths of the ocean and the rocky shores. With her cap on, she could walk upon land as gracefully as she swam in the sea.

One fateful day, Lí Ban ventured too close to the shore. There, she caught sight of a young fisherman named Eochaidh. His rugged features and kind eyes captured her heart. Lí Ban watched him from the waves, her green tail shimmering in the sunlight.

Eochaidh, too, was entranced by the mysterious beauty in the water. He longed to know her name, to hear her sing. And so, he waited by the shore, hoping she would return.

Days turned into weeks, and Lí Ban and Eochaidh exchanged glances across the boundary of sea and land. Their silent connection deepened, and love blossomed between them. Lí Ban would emerge from the waves, her red cap concealing her mermaid form, and they would share stolen moments on the beach.

But love between a mortal and a mermaid was not without its challenges. Lí Ban knew that her time on land was limited. She could not stay forever, for her heart belonged to the sea. And Eochaidh, though smitten, could not follow her beneath the waves.

One stormy night, as the waves crashed against the cliffs, Lí Ban made a choice. She removed her magical cap and placed it gently in Eochaidh’s hands. Tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “Keep this safe, my love. It is my link to both worlds.”

Eochaidh vowed to protect the precious cap. But as Lí Ban returned to the sea, her tail transforming into shimmering scales, she knew their love was destined for heartache. She sang a mournful song, her voice carrying across the waves, bidding farewell to the man she loved.

Years passed, and Eochaidh grew old. He would sit by the shore, staring out at the horizon, waiting for Lí Ban’s return. But she never came. The magical cap remained in his possession, a bittersweet reminder of their love.

And so, the legend of Lí Ban lived on—a tale of forbidden love, sacrifice, and the enduring bond between land and sea. To this day, fishermen along the Irish coast claim they can hear her haunting melodies on stormy nights, carried by the wind and the waves.

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[susieporta]

Sono stata spugna. Per molti anni, quasi tutta la

giovinezza, appena incontravo qualcuno, ero spugna.

L’avevo imparato nell’infanzia. Stai lí e assorbi tutto.

Non so come, ma quando si incontra una spugna, gli

altri si sentono invitati a parlare moltissimo. Quando

poi se ne andavano, ero stanchissima e opaca, completamente

senza riflesso. Certe volte andavo a dormire

raggomitolata sotto il piumino e quando provavano

a svegliarmi mi lamentavo e mi ci avvolgevo ancora

piú stretta, come in un bozzolo. Quando una volta finalmente

mi chiesero: «Ma cos’hai? Sei malata?» Risposi

solo: «Ho visto gente». E allora compresi che

era ora di finirla.

Per un po’ mi chiusi a riccio: non volevo piú vedere

nessuno.

Poi, dopo anni di India, di tecniche di meditazione

e di approdo a comprendere che stare con il respiro

non è una tecnica ma una storia d’amore, mi sono

tramutata, piano piano, con lenta costruzione, in fontana.

Posso ancora ascoltare, ma solo finché c’è acqua

che scorre e la fontana non trabocca. Ma soprattutto,

la fontana è lí a disposizione, chi vuole ci va a bere e

lei non assorbe niente, scorre. Il cuore non è spugna,

è fontana.

Chandra Candiani da 'Questo immenso non sapere' (Einaudi).

[saayawolf]

Sono stata spugna. Per molti anni, quasi tutta la giovinezza, appena incontravo qualcuno, ero spugna. L’avevo imparato nell’infanzia. Stai lí e assorbi tutto. Non so come, ma quando si incontra una spugna, gli altri si sentono invitati a parlare moltissimo. Quando poi se ne andavano, ero stanchissima e opaca, completamente senza riflesso. Certe volte andavo a dormire raggomitolata sotto il piumino e quando provavano a svegliarmi mi lamentavo e mi ci avvolgevo ancora piú stretta, come in un bozzolo. Quando una volta finalmente mi chiesero: «Ma cos’hai? Sei malata?» Risposi solo: «Ho visto gente». E allora compresi che era ora di finirla.

Per un po’ mi chiusi a riccio: non volevo piú vedere nessuno. Poi, dopo anni di India, di tecniche di meditazione e di approdo a comprendere che stare con il respiro non è una tecnica ma una storia d’amore, mi sono tramutata, piano piano, con lenta costruzione, in fontana. Posso ancora ascoltare, ma solo finché c’è acqua che scorre e la fontana non trabocca. Ma soprattutto, la fontana è lí a disposizione, chi vuole ci va a bere e lei non assorbe niente, scorre. Il cuore non è spugna, è fontana.

Chandra Candiani da 'Questo immenso non sapere' (Einaudi).

[pookietsunoda]

“憂愁” --小安 （iu-chhiû) Melancholy* 

Verse： I'm sleepless again, still thinking about you It seems like you're beside me I'd rather not know you, Let this matter between the two of us completely fade away Remembering that time You held my hand, said you'd never forget It's that never forgetting that lets you stay in my heart We see each other every day, I hurt because of you

Chorus: if not for you, how could I be so melancholy* Not only looked down on by others, but sleepless because of you If not for you, I would have let it pass long ago Because you're not worth the baijiu I drink I can't figure it out, I'm in love with you

*(or sorrowful or troubled, idk the most direct translation)

Note: I don't speak Hokkien so this is largely based off another netizen's translation of the lyrics into Mandarin which I've since lost. It's a banger song though. MV and original lyrics below the cut. If you're a native speaker please lmk if something is inaccurate!

《忧愁》Iu-tshiû 小安 Sió-an (陈信安Tân Sìn-an)

又阁困袂去 iū-koh khùn buē-khì 犹原阁想着你 iu-guân koh siūnn-tio̍h lí 亲像你伫我的身边 tshin-tshiūnn lí tī guá ê sin-pinn

情愿毋捌你 tsîng-guān m̄-bat lí 予两人的代志 hōo nn̄g-lâng ê tāi-tsì 随一切渐渐的过去 suî it-tshè tsiām-tsiām ê kuè-khì

想着当初时 siūnn-tio̍h tong-tshoo-sî 你牵着我的手 lí khan-tio̍h guá ê tshiú 讲永远袂放袂记 kóng íng-uán buē pàng-buē-kì

就是放袂去 tiō-sī pàng buē khì 来予你留伫阮的心 lâi hōo-lí lâu tī gún ê sim 每日相见 muí-ji̍t siong-kìnn 为你伤害自己 uī lí siong-hāi tsū-kí

若毋为着你 nā m̄ uī-tio̍h lí 我哪会遮尔忧愁 guá ná ē tsiah-nī iu-tshiû 来予人看袂起 lâi hōo-lâng khuànn-buē-khí 来为你困袂去 lâi uī lí khùn buē-khì

若毋是因为你 nā-m̄-sī in-uī lí 我早就放咧予去 guá tsá tiō pàng leh hōo khì 因为你毋值我 in-uī lí m̄-ta̍t guá 将烧酒啉落去 tsiong sio-tsiú lim--lueh-khì

我想袂开 guá siūnn buē-khui 我爱着你 guá ài-tio̍h lí

[zhuhongs]

萬千花蕊慈母悲哀  (Bān-tshian Hue-luí Tsû-bió Pi-ai) Thousands of Flowers of a Mourning Mother’s Love

下晡 一个人踮厝內 ē-poo, tsi̍t ê lâng tiàm tshù-lāi One afternoon, I was home alone 西北雨 沃澹窗外的衫 sai-pak-hōo, ak-tâm thang-guā ê sann A sudden downpour drenched the clothes outside 外口的人 猶未轉來 guā-kháu ê lâng iah-buē tńg-lâi The one who has left has yet to return 戇戇咧等 戇戇攑一支雨傘 gōng-gōng--leh tán, gōng-gōng gia̍h tsi̍t ki hōo-suànn I waited foolishly with an umbrella at hand

為你 幾若擺睏袂去 uī lí, kuí-nā pái khùn bē khì Because of you, I had many sleepless nights 全世界 揣袂著你的形影 tsuân-sè-kài, tshuē bē tio̍h lí ê hîng-iánn From every corner of the world, you can’t be found anywhere 凡勢 會當共你放捒 huān-sè, ē-tàng kā lí pàng-sak Perhaps I’ll give up one day 氣身惱命 我哪會攏無要無緊 khì-sin-lóo-miā, guá ná-ē lóng bô-iàu-bô-kín How was I so damn calm?

踮遮規暝 看電火閃爍 tiàm tsia kui-mê, khuànn tiān-hué siám-sih Staying here all night, watching the light flicker 我踮遮等待 拍無去的人 guá tiàm tsia tán-thāi, phah-bô--khì ê lâng I waited up all night, for the one who didn’t return 聽厝內的聲 聲聲佇咧吼 thiann tshù-lāi ê siann, siann-siann tī-leh háu Every corner of the house can be heard grieving 我踅來踅去 思念火燒房間 guá se̍h-lâi-se̍h-khì, su-liām hué sio pâng-king Pacing back and forth, the memory of you burns in this room 袂開的花 無欲轉來的人 buē khui ê hue, bô beh tńg--lâi ê lâng The flower that will never blossom, the person who will never return 美麗的你啊 想著你彼當時 攑懸你的旗仔 bí-lē ê lí--ah, siūnn tio̍h lí hit-tong-sî, gia̍h kuân lí ê kî-á My dear, I still recall the moment you raised your flag 路邊的話 滿街路雨紛飛 lōo-pinn ê uē, muá ke-lōo hōo hun-hui Th rumors splatter like rain on the pavement 時代的變卦 孤單的我一个人 問天也毋捌 sî-tāi ê piàn-kuà, koo-tuann ê guá tsi̍t ê lâng, mn̄g thinn iā m̄-bat The changes of a new era are hard on me, even as I ask the heavens

手內啥物攏無 只賰我欲予你的愛 tshiú lāi siánn-mih lóng bô, tsí tshun guá beh hōo lí ê ài In my hand all I have is nothing but my love for you 有血有肉的人 煞下落不明 ū hueh ū bah ê lâng, suah hē-lo̍h-put-bîng How can such flesh and blood disappear without a trace

共你的 記持啊 囥佇我的心內 kā lí ê kì-tî--ah, khǹg tī guá ê sim-lāi Keeping your memory deep in my heart 騎你的 白馬啊 行你欲行的路 khiâ lí ê pe̍h-bé--ah, kiânn lí beh kiânn ê lōo Ride your white horse, follow your own path 風吹來 花落塗 點一欉香祈求 hong tshue lâi, hue lo̍h-thôo, tiám tsi̍t tsâng hiunn kî-kiû The wind howls and the flower falls. Lighting an incense, pleading: （南無觀世音菩薩） （lâm-bû-kuan-sè-im-phôo-sat）  (Namo Avalokiteshvara) (tn: a buddhist chant, often performed at someone’s passing, or to release suffering)

若準講你 算著這齣悲劇 nā-tsún kóng lí, sǹg tio̍h tsit tshut pi-kio̍k Heaven, if you have foreseen the horrible tragedy 你敢會看顧 紲落來伊頭前 彼逝歹行的路 lí kám ē khuànn-kòo, suà--lo̍h-lâi i thâu-tsîng, hit tsuā pháinn kiânn ê lōo Please look after him on this bumpy road he is to walk 夢中的我 看你沓沓仔行 bāng-tiong ê guá, khuànn lí ta̍uh-ta̍uh-á kiânn In my dreams I can see you walking slowly 牽你的亡魂 有一工咱做伙 轉去彼个所在 khan lí ê bông-hûn, ū tsi̍t kang lán tsò-hué, tńg-khì hit ê sóo-tsāi leading your soul, “one day, let’s go back to that place together.”

我 蔫去的愛（規路攏是） guá, lian-khì ê ài（kui-lōo lóng sī） My withering love (scattered along the street) 佮你 恬去的心（你） kah lí, tiām--khì ê sim（lí） And your silent heart (you) 佇這烏暗時代（佇這烏暗時代） tī tse oo-àm sî-tāi（tī tse oo-àm sî-tāi） In this dark era ( in this dark era) 是有緣無份（想欲講出） sī ū-iân bô-hūn（siūnn beh kóng-tshut） We are doomed to be apart (you want to say)

寫袂了的批（的） siá bē liáu ê phue（ê） Letters left unwritten (but) 佮講袂煞的話（奈何） kah kóng bē suah ê uē（nāi-hô） Still things I have left to say  (亻因) 開袂完的銃（開袂完的銃） in khui bē uân ê tshìng（khui bē uân ê tshìng） The gunfire near ceases 看人去樓空（火烌猶在） khuànn lâng-khì lâu-khang（hué-hu iû-tsāi） Everyone is gone, nothing remains (only the ashes)

雨 微微仔落 hōo, bî-bî-á lo̍h Rain, falls softly 天 微微仔光 thinn, bî-bî-á kng Day, breaks softly 看你 微微仔笑 khuànn lí, bî-bî-á tshiò And you, smile softly 後世人再會 āu-sì-lâng tsài-huē “We will meet in the next life”

[tizianacerralovetrainer]

Se insisti portando energia in ciò che identifichi come il problema, cristallizzi e potenzi quello stato. Dentro te, animicamente già tutto sta avvenendo, oltre la tua preoccupazione, oltre la tua paura, oltre ciò che visualizzi come tunnel, c’è un fare silenzioso e operoso che ti sta già portando fuori. Il tempo del dolore ha a che fare con le teorie del pensiero mentre il tempo della rinascita ha a che fare con l’abbandono a quel che c’è, così come può, così come è. Questo combattimento che ti porta a pensare che quello che ti fa soffrire deve essere assolutamente allontanato, rimosso, cancellato, è per te sfinente, stancante. Fidati di ciò che sa avvenire se sposti ogni energia sulla creatività, sul respiro, su quelle che sono le radici dell’anima. In te ci sono soluzioni antiche che la mente non sa pescare, semplicemente emergeranno affidandoti. Chiudi gli occhi, lascia che attraverso le immagini l’anima possa parlarti e condurti. Respira e stai lí.

tizianacerra.com

(Foto Darius Bashar, unsplash)

[mythvoiced]

this time, the text from wendy comes in the middle of the day, though it's still being sent from lí chényǔ's phone.

[ text / 徐文哲 ]: winnie-gege ! its wendy on chenchen's phone. guess what !

[ text / 徐文哲 ]: it was "bring your hero to school day" and chenchen actually took a couple hrs off work to do a demo for my class. he wasnt gonna but then i cried and he felt guilty :(

[ text / 徐文哲 ]: look ! its chenchen ! [ tap to view video. ]

in the video, lí chényǔ wields a wooden staff as if it were an extension of himself; he leaps and spins effortlessly, dark hair tumbling into his eyes --- and even smiles briefly when a few of wendy's classmates squeal in awe as the staff swishes through in a graceful, controlled arc. at the end, the children and teachers alike erupt into applause, and lí chényǔ instantly turns tomato-red, holding up his hands as if he means to wave off any compliments, coupled with a shy and sweet, "aiya ... zhēn de ma ? shì ma ? bùxíng, bùxíng ... "

[ text / 徐文哲 ]: incase u wanted to see bc i know he doesnt show off much or at all, hes so shy lol. did u know he trained at shaolin temple before him and mama left china ??? im pretty sure he was there for awhile too. he doesnt talk about it much tho at least to me. but maybe for u he would ???

[ text / 徐文哲 ]: ok gotta go ! have a good day winnie-gege !

[ for wenzhe, from lí chényǔ / @xiianxias ! ]

@xinxiins | ending my life tbh

It's taking him far too long to start adding numbers again.

His last phone had seen its untimely demise at his own hands. He'd enjoyed the practice in a way human only does when it provides catharsis. Most modern phones don't break from falling alone, oh no. They need to be worked to shatter. You need to put in the effort, the belief, you need to have as much pent up something and everything as Wenzhe had and does, to truly make it unusable.

So he had.

Cathartic indeed.

But this... this is something else.

He doesn't know how to describe it. He's never been a man of words, after all, they stay as firmly lodged in his throat as they do in his mind. It's not an easy feat, describing all the different ways whatever lives inside him overwhelms him.

As he stares at his phone, lips parted around the bite from his crepe he's forgetting to take, he fails. He watches, and he fails. It builds up from within. It's warm and enough to make his chest rise. He's smiling before he can tell he is and feels creepy for it moments later.

No amount of trying to drag the corners of his lips back down helps, though, they keep twitching up, keep trying to lift themselves like a man climbing out of quicksand, over a fence, to run across a plain sea of sand and into his lover's arms.

He flinches at the first crack echoing through the room displayed on his phone screen, and laughs in pure delight. He flinches at that, too.

He crouches down on the floor, aborts the attempt to put his wrapped crepe on the ground a few more times before he finally connects with the reality that he should not abandon food he intends to eat on cement, but he'd so very much like to hold the device with both hands.

Drag it closer to his face.

Make it wider, maybe.

Is that creepy? Is he allowed? Is it okay? Especially considering the slight frown dragging his eyebrows together, all while having no significant impact on his smile whatsoever. He's trying to reconcile the Lí Chényǔ he knows with the one performing here.

They're the same, yet just different enough. The sight of him mirrors what Wenzhe hopes to see occasionally, something prouder than what Lí Chényǔ seemingly allows himself to be. There's pride to be had here, even beyond the video, which somehow Wenzhe replays a few more times before he realizes he should reply.

Lí Chényǔ has so many fucking reasons to be proud. His strength, his bravery, all the many things he shouldn't have to be proud of solely because their existence implies the cough, and the way his hand would fit so easily around his wrist, the dismissal and the sickly skin, the long hours and the bags - under eyes and on shoulders both.

But there is pride. He fights, he thrives, he wins even if the world keeps punishing him for it, even if the world says, good job, you made it out alive yet another day, why don't you do that again, so we can all feast upon the sight and feel better about ourselves?

Judge you from our golden thrones?

The crepe tastes stale, suddenly. He's lost his appetite.

But he watches and listens to the crack, and the video always ends on that same sheepish note, and it twists uncomfortably in Wenzhe's guts.

If Lí Chényǔ found out Wendy'd sent him this, would he instinctively wonder if Wenzhe liked it, or would he instinctively wonder if he found it odd?

Wenzhe doesn't flinch at the crack cracking through the room anymore, but he winces and smiles, grows cold and warm when his mother's tongue rolls off Lí Chényǔ's in notes of embarrassment of, 'gosh' and 'undeserving' and all the ways he thinks dying every day is all right because it's better than Wendy and Michael dying for a second only.

He hovers.

His thumb over the first few letters of his reply, his other hand over the bin. He can't throw the crepe away. It'll clank like coins on a golden throne.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] thank you for sending me this, Wendy! i loved it, it looks amazing, your brother is very cool

What should he say? What should he ask?

Can I see more? Is it okay to ask? Does he miss it? Is it still home for him? How can I make it better?

But maybe for you he would?

Wenzhe sighs, warm and cold, full and empty. He's in so much trouble.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm gonna ask him about it. i want to know more. your brother is an incredible person. i know it's not my place to say this, but thank you for bringing him as your hero

He chews on his bottom lip, then on a minuscule bite of his crepe. If he's tearing up, and thinking about brushing some of those black strands out of his face, that's his own business.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] sorry if i'm speaking out of line. thank you, though. really.

...

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] do you guys like crepes? they're french pastry. you can fill them with chocolate, strawberries, more flavors i don't know probably haha.

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] if you like them i'd like to treat you guys to some. maybe soon if you have time? or we could surprise your brother at his corner, what do you think? hope you're still getting this. have a lovely day.

...

[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] thank you again

[fwoopersongs]

晚风 - Evening Wind

A version of me [1], high up, looks afar [2]; there is a cloud that has stopped. Planning a stealthy capture, to the Night, Dusk now belongs [3].

Within the dense forest, lights flicker resolutely, flying along. And the drifting heart? Suspended. ‘Til the curtain of the night envelops.

The night has grown deep, stars lighting the colours of the way back home [4].

Summer's evening wind - it blows. Like someone’s embrace, there’s… lingering warmth. Take all the tender stories, knead them in ‘til they are one with the night, and with that distance [5], forgotten.

People pass by each other and parting ways, scatter.

The evening wind this night - it blows. Like our inhale, exhale, there’s… lingering warmth. And our story, from our first meeting it fades, ‘til distance separates [6] us again; we had thought ourselves in love.

We pass by each other. A goodbye, and we’ve parted.

The evening wind this night - it blows. Like our inhale, exhale, there’s… lingering warmth. And our story, from our first meeting it fades, ‘til distance separates us again; we had thought ourselves in love.

We pass by each other. A goodbye, and we’ve parted.

...............................................................................................

I heard the first line in the two minute version of this song subbed by @halfxin on twitter and dived for youtube for the full thing, then ended up listening to it on a loop for the longest time. So, here's an impulse translation from me xD

Have also since watched her subbed MV lyric video and it is so lovely <3 I really like her interpretation and phrasing for the song. Special shoutout to 'while the fluttering heart remains unsettled until the dusk closes around it' and 'blending our sweet story thoroughly into the colors of the night to be set aside and forgotten' - it makes them so vivid!

[1] 某个我 (mǒu gè wǒ) - Literally, a certain 'me'. I heard this and was immediately 100% invested. Is it a version of yourself across possibilities, or a past, present, future self?

[2] 眺望 (tiào wàng) - Being high up and looking still further. It feels like freedom, it feels like peace. Someone said, the last cloud drifting idly by will not stay. But this one stayed!

[3] 夜幕把日��拥有 - I have always had the biggest soft spot for anthropomorphizing nature, and this is so so so cute? The curtain of night taking the sunset as its own.

[4] 归途 (guī tú) - Literally, return journey, doesn't actually specify that the return must be 'home'. But there is only one place I would say I 归 to. And that's home. So this is a personal choice.

[5] 疏离 (shū lí) - Not just 'distance'. It feels like isolating, like emotional detachment.

[6] 隔阂 (Gé'hé) - Now this is emotional detachment that leads to barriers in emotions and communication.

某个我 眺望着 有片云朵停驻了 计划秘密地捕捉 夜幕把日落拥有

密林里闪烁执着 飞着 飘着的心呢 悬着 到暮色四合

夜晚更深了 星星点亮着 归途的颜色

夏夜的晚风 吹着 像谁的拥抱 余热 把温柔的故事全部都揉进了夜色 疏离地忘了

人们从身边经过 再各自散了

今夜的晚风 吹着 像彼此呼吸 余热 而我们的故事相遇再褪回到隔阂 自以为爱着

我们从身旁经过 一别就散了

今夜的晚风 吹着 像彼此呼吸 余热 而我们的故事相遇再褪回到隔阂 自以为爱着

我们从身旁经过 一别就散了

[ngocngadotnet]

For Vietnamese and Chinese versions, please check out: https://ngocnga.net/card-game/?utm_source=tumblr&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=quote 🃏🍀🎲 If meeting you requires me to use up all my luck, then please stay away from me; I want to play cards. // Rúguǒ yùjiàn nǐ xūyào huā guāng wǒ suǒyǒu de yùnqì, nà qǐng nǐ lí wǒ yuǎn yīdiǎn, wǒ yào dǎpái.

[poesiablog60]

So che stai leggendo questa poesia in attesa di udire qualcosa, divisa tra amarezza e speranza,

per poi tornare ai compiti che non puoi rifiutare.

So che stai leggendo questa poesia perché non c’è altro da leggere,

lí dove sei approdata, nuda come sei.

Adrienne Rich

[kysubuidoi]

Sài gòn mưa chiều nhanh như tia chớp, chỉ kịp trốn vào dưới mái hiên một quán bên đường, mái hiên hẹp chỉ đủ ba chỗ trú: anh khiếm thị, người nước ngoài và tôi. Khi vừa nhào đến thì vừa chạm cảnh anh nước ngoài đang kéo anh khiếm thị vào dưới mái che. Anh khiếm thị sờ phải cánh tay lông lá của ân nhân thì câu chuyện bắt đầu: - Ah, you are foreigner? - Yes, I am. - Where do you stay? - I stay in that hotel (chỉ tay về phía khách sạn năm sao; xong nhận ra mình hớ; nhưng có vẻ cũng không muốn đính chính) - I know that hotel! - Oh, really! What do you do? - I sell lottery ticket. You want to buy? - No, I don’t want to buy! When was you blind? - When I was 5. - Oh, the world has completely changed since then (nói rít trong cuống họng á) Was you sad? ………………………………………………………………….. Tôi tạm cắt ngang đối thoại của họ ở đây để chia sẻ tâm trạng của bạn đọc; tôi cũng như bạn, thấy ông nước ngoài này thật là lẩn thẩn … Lúc đó là 3 giờ 45 với xấp vé số chưa bán, mưa tối trời, và thân phận một người khiếm thị (anh này nhìn được ở cự li cực ngắn) … Hỏi về quá khứ anh ấy có buồn không ư, lạ thế! Nhưng câu trả lời sai văn phạm đã đánh lạc hướng chúng tôi: - I AM HAPPY! I LIVE. Người nước ngoài quay sang tôi cầu cứu, tôi ngại ngùng nhìn đăm đăm vào chùm đèn sảnh khách sạn nơi anh ta trú ngụ vừa bật sáng. Anh ta nhìn xuống chân, di di giày trên vỉa hè và chắc chắn rằng ngay cả đường sá ở xứ này; rất nhiều đoạn, chỗ chúng tôi đứng cũng thiếu những viên gạch lát có rãnh chạy suốt để giúp đầu gậy của người khiếm thị định vị họ đi trên 1 đường thẳng. Ông ta nhẩm lại, như nói với chính mình: - You are happy! Trong một diễn biến khác, tôi vừa đánh rớt 2 vị trí quản lí nhà hàng với mức lương hàng tháng bằng mấy chục xấp vé số trên tay người khiếm thị. Vì 2 ứng viên ấy nói tiếng Anh quá kém, và tệ hơn là họ chẳng tỏ ra muốn cố gắng để học hỏi. Trong tình huống tôi được chứng kiến, tôi hoàn toàn nhất trí cách anh chàng khiếm thị bỏ qua phần ca thán thân phận nhằm bán vé số, hay lo lắng việc ế vé số ... có vẻ anh ấy nhanh chóng nhận ra việc thay đổi tình huống là không thể, và chụp ngay cơ hội để thực tập tiếng Anh; mà cứ theo đầu óc con buôn của tôi, thì mỗi giờ tôi luyện giao tiếp cho học sinh kiểu one on one như thế là 45 usd! (tôi ráng liếc mắt đếm xem có được 90 cái vé trên tay anh ta không, và liệu có vé nào sẽ trúng giải an ủi, và xác xuất vé an ủi là bao nhiêu ... trong khi họ rỉ rả trò chuyện) Chắc chắn không phải lần đầu anh ấy chơi lớn. Nghe tiếng Anh của anh ấy thì cũng biết là chịu khó thực tập rồi. Mười năm nữa, nếu không có biến cố gì lớn xảy ra, mà tôi gặp lại người khiếm thị ấy, tôi nghĩ anh ấy hẳn là người thành đạt. Người biết mình hạnh phúc, luôn có thể đến gần với thành công. Điều ấy, tôi chắc. Tôi kể câu chuyện này với các bạn vì chúng ta, trong đó có tôi cứ hay quen nhận định về mọi thứ theo cách mình suy luận. Có những thứ rất hiển nhiên, nhìn thấy rõ ràng, chưa hẳn đã đúng với điều mình nghĩ. Tại sao chúng ta muốn bênh vực nông dân thì phải mạt sát người buôn bán, vì sao muốn bảo vệ thương hiệu này lại phải hạ thấp một thương hiệu khác, muốn yêu mến thần tượng của mình thì người ấy phải ở vị trí đầu bảng. Chúng ta, trong đó có tôi, chưa học được cách nói của người khiếm thị nọ: như tiếng nhạc rơi trong mưa, như hạt nước rớt xuống từ trời mặc kệ sẽ va vào đâu, như một lời thầm thì với cuộc sống mà quyết liệt như thể tuyên ngôn: I am happy! P/S. Đêm qua tôi đã mơ thấy tiếng dương cầm rơi theo hạt mưa khuya. Chuong Dang.

[ah-buh]

Un semplice nessuno che ha come scopo nella vita quello di aiutare gli altri a trovare se stessi.

Prendo l'abbraccio volentieri,e proprio per questo ti chiedo,di rileggere più volte quel messaggio e di mettere in pratica quei pochi consigli lí scritti per una sola settimana,e se dovesse andar meglio allora,sarò più che lieto di aiutarti ulteriormente.

Un ultima cosa,la mattina non alzarti dal letto finché non ti sarai resa conto che stai vivendo nel presente e che le incomprensioni di ieri e le paure del domani in questo momento sono solo frutto della tua immaginazione e non una reale preoccupazione,anche perché fin troppo spesso il dolore ce lo cerchiamo immaginando scenari ben peggiori della realtà.

Un abbraccio!

Spero che questo possa aiutare non solo me ma tutti quelli che si sentono così.

Grazie mille anonimo, non dimenticherò ciò che mi hai detto.

[bucciadiarancia]

BET: Perché il femminismo dipende da quattro fattori: prima di tutto, le donne devono avere un’indipendenza economica. Se non ce l’hanno non hanno niente. Secondo, asili gratis. Aborti. (contando con le dita) Quarto, un alloggio decente.

JANEY: Cioè queste sono soltanto considerazioni materiali. Stai dando per scontato il materialismo che ci insegna la società

BET: (...) Dobbiamo iniziare a mostrare donne forti al comando della società.

JANEY: Ma non lo siamo.

BET: (...) In Italia c’è questo festival artistico femminile. Un nostro amico che fa performance vestito da donna si è esibito lí. Poi ha svelato di essere un uomo. Le donne in sala lo hanno menato e hanno chiamato la polizia.

MICHAEL: La polizia?

JANEY: Era bravo?

BET: Il migliore che si sia esibito a quel festival. LOUIE: Penso che chiamare la polizia sia una cosa strana. Avrebbero dovuto soltanto menarlo.

JANEY: Non mi piace la polizia

[stillresolved]

"birdie. wèi."

lí chényǔ emerges from the back-alley exit of the grocery store he's spent the better part of the morning hauling goods inside. it's hard work, and it shows: one of the wooden pallets must've been more roughly-cut than usual; there's a tear in the hem of his sweatshirt ( it's already seen better days, and now this ) and an ugly gash on his hand --- one he's done little more than slap an ill-fitting bandaid on. despite the way he coughs for nearly a minute ( recent rain has made the mold at his family's tenement worse; predictably, it's doing a number on him ), he still lights a cigarette, then watches her in what appears to be quiet concern: if one looks close enough, there's an empathetic light in his eyes, lips pulled down at the corners ever so slightly.

"yù dào máfan le ma ?" lí chényǔ reaches in his pocket, pulls out something wrapped in wax paper --- a wife cake. it was meant to be his lunch, but ... well. he's no stranger to going without, and besides ... she looks like she could use it more than him. "wǒ ... wǒ gěi nǐ zhège."

@xinxiins / unprompted.

WHEN A CAGED BIRD FINALLY TAKES FLIGHT, IT IS INEVITABLE THAT SOONER OR LATER, IT WILL FALL. Its wings are unaccustomed to carrying the body in mid-air for long periods of time. It becomes a question then, when it falls: will it return to the ground or will it rise again? Granted, Birdie knows if push comes to shove, she could do it: his job, jobs like his, the ones that her father spat upon, told her that she could have ended up that way if not for him.

Her father never failed to remind her of that. The life that she lives now– wet, hungry, and without a roof over her head– is the one she would have only known if not for him. 

She watches from the alleyway, sitting precariously on a soaked box. Who knows if it’s going to sag under her weight sooner or later? Dark eyes look out from under a cap. Her hair’s matted underneath; she hasn’t been able to scrounge up the money to get a comb. It’s him again, the boy working at the grocery store. The one who looks young and yet moves through the world as if he were older. An old man resigned to his fate even.

( But isn’t that all of the children these days? In this world, children cannot stay children for long. If ever. )

His lips move to a language she has to recall for the longest of moments. Chinese, her second language– one that her mother used to speak to her on occasion. If not for her father, would it have been the only language she would have dreamt in?

Her stomach growls. Cursing under her breath, she can’t help but approach him, her figure still hidden in the shadows. Hard eyes watch him, carefully, warily. Just because he’s been nothing but courteous towards her, doesn’t mean he won’t report her. The poor and downtrodden will do what they must to survive.

And yet…he looks worse today. Tired, if not even a tad sicklier. Medicine, she would say he probably needs most. And to put the cigarette out. In another life, maybe she would have put it out for him. Dreamt with him of a better life too.

But this is the NEW WORLD and she’s done trying to fight it. One of the wife cakes disappears from the container. 

“Stop smoking,” she says in both a language and a voice raspy from disuse. She disappears back into the shadows.

 “It’s not good for your lungs.”