#but lost every word of vocab i had at the time

[sickuma]

ORPHIC (2) — A Simon Riley fic.

❱ This is the last part of HIRAETH ! I don't want to drag it any longer than this. It's so much fun writing this and exploring more words to add to my vocab! Everyone's been nice (except when they give me their therapy bills) I love you guys srsly, You make writing so much more fun <3

I should have gotten this done HOURS ago, but I had to do stuff and just finished working out T-T but hey, writing block isn't killing me rn.

ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!

➴ SYNOPSIS — Ghost mourns of what's lost; reminiscing of the memories, apologizing, begging for you to hear his desperation for your presence as he sat Infront of your tombstone.

QUERENCIA — (n.) A place from which a one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.

“Relationships in the military,”

He spoke, pausing to stare at your eyes. Searching for hesitance,

“They tend to be tragic.”

“But we’ll be together, no?”

“look , kid, it's not as easy as it sounds—”

“Do you feel the same way?”

You cut him off, not giving him the chance to speak. Catching ‘the’ simon ghost riley off guard, “Yes.” he breathes out.

“Then I don't see the problem, lieutenant, I love you, you love me. That's what barney said.”

He stares at the void, remembering yet again another memory he kept special in his heart. He wondered if you had not pursued him at that exact moment. Would he still feel the raw pain that plagued his heart now? Would it still hurt all the same?

If you hadn't stubbornly shown him how determined and real your love for him was, would he still be in this position, dreading every day that comes knowing the person he needs the most was taken from him.

throwing his gear onto the side. Making his way back to his quarters without giving anyone a second glance,

Ever since you've been gone, the base has been awfully tense. The rest understood his situation, trying their best to be there for him, all while attending to their own duties. The past few weeks had been the hardest, They could tell Ghost had been on edge.

He’d only speak to them if it's necessary, otherwise he’d be kept to himself. As if the past had repeated itself, there appeared a gap between his friends and him. He was mourning, and he plans to keep mourning,

If that means having you on his mind,

Then he’ll mourn forever.

“Ghost?”

Price’s eyes widened at the sight of Ghost, 

It’s the first month since you've passed away and the rest of the team planned to pay you a visit to show respect and also let you know how missed you are, not just by them, but also by Ghost who seemed to have shut his whole world out.

He saw how Ghost shown a tough facade when he would hear him call for her,

At night, when everyone slept, Ghost cried and wept for you to come back. Begging aimlessly for your return,

Begging endlessly to feel your arms around him again.

Price didn't expect him to be joining them. He hadn't been. The team visited your resting place a couple of times before, he’d invite him but he’ll make up reasons not to go. Price figured he still hasn't accepted that's where your body lays,

The ride to their destination felt almost eerie, the tension leading the hour long drive. Nobody dared to speak, not a single word.

Ghost’s mind resides elsewhere, watching the scenery they drove past. Chest heaving up and down as he struggles to fathom that he’d finally visit you, 

No—he was more occupied with thinking about how it’s only been a month.

It felt longer than that. It felt longer than his training days. He felt more exhausted, more agitated, and more angry. He resents every breathing thing he comes across to,

He knew it sounded cruel, but why do they deserve to live and you don't? You have been the kindest, and yet you were taken first. He couldn't understand,

As a soldier he’d lost multiple comrades, having to face funerals—visit the cemetery, and deal with death itself. Though yours felt unreal,

It felt as if his bones were crushed. He knew how pathetic it seemed, clinging onto someone who's never coming back, but he'd rather cling onto the past if it means having to hold you close to his heart forever, where you belonged.

、 

Everyone got out of the car,

Everyone but him.

Price sighed, not planning to pry. If his breath felt shallow just by being here, he could only imagine what Ghost felt at this moment, considering it was his first time to ever be here.

A few minutes passed, and the three sat quietly at first until soap had cracked a dad joke, lifting the atmosphere just a little bit. They spoke as if you were there, sitting with them, price would constantly glace at Ghost, who sat quietly in the car. He wondered what ran through his mind.

“We should give him his own time to talk to [name].” Price groaned as he stretched when he stood up, the two following closely behind him. “He needs this.”

Ghosts' eyes caught them approaching. He felt his stomach sink. He knew he planned to wait until they finished before he took his turn as he expected himself to break down and shed tears. He didn't want them to see that. And yet he still felt his heart beat faster when they came back,

Price threw him a small smile, a smile of empathy.

As if that's his cue, he jumped out of the car. Taking slow strides towards ‘your’ direction. He never thought he could ever despise a cemetery so much in his life,

The only thing he could think of was the way you laid down there, away from his grasp.

No matter how slow he walks, he soon finds himself in front of ‘you’, oh well—a stone that only proved to him that you're gone. “Have you been waiting?”

He couldn't believe it,

He was talking to a mere stone.

But he’ll take what he can get.

“Wake up.” he stared down with an expressionless face, “enough laziness, [name]. Get up from there.”

“You can have all of the shirts you want from me, you can pluck my eyebrows, do it, you can get a puppy. Anything you want just— just wake up.”

His voice betrayed him the more he spoke, 

The longer he looked at the stone, the way he kept reading the credentials written on it, the more it felt real. Every passing second is just another evidence of your disappearance,

“You always call me mean,”

He swallowed,

“Yet you're the one who left first.” his cold gaze softened, the more he looked at the ground. Under the ground where your body laid.

Where the body of his lover slept eternally.

“How do I find you now? Now that I'm stuck here?”

He recollects his promise, the promise to reunite in your next life. It all pierced through him. He’s a soldier, yet he finds himself worrying about the most ridiculous thing. What if you'd reincarnate before he passed?

What if you leave him behind again,

What if this time you find someone else to love?

What will he be then?

“Remember when you'd go on tangents about how fascinating reincarnation and universes are? I believe you now, okay? So— so wait for me.”

He sat down, quietly enjoying the breeze. He couldn't deny the pain of the piercing ache that developed in his chest. It never really went away. He would simply distract himself.

“I find it hard to sleep again, love.”

“The bed feels colder without you in it. Do i sound cheesy? Do not make fun of me. I want to be honest. Maybe doing that would lessen the overbearing hurt in my chest. It’s just—it’s only been a month since youre gone and im already a fucking mess. I mean, look at me,”

He chuckled,

“I look rough, dont i?” he sighed, “would you still find my eyes pretty even when i tire them out by crying?”

He looked away, observing the serenity of the cemetery. He wondered how many souls wandered around, and if yours were one, and if you stood close to him.

“I feel—just terrible. When I woke up, I thought I'd finally lose it, well I did. I caused price trouble, you'd have scolded me. I really did it this time, pushing everyone away as if you'd come back to tell me off. That's not ever happening, and that's what hurts the most.” 

He spoke slowly, yet he felt out of breath.

“It feels suffocating—you know? To live without you.”

“I don't know why I woke up, I wished I didn't. Maybe then I'd be with you.”

“It’s scary, [name], so scary.” he whispered, the rasp of his voice sounding more evident. “I have no certainty if we’ll see each other again; and I need nothing more than to hold—to feel you again. To hear your voice, to take in your scent. If I have to give everything up for that, I will.”

“Anything just to have you back to me.”

He stared at the words engraved on the tomb,

“but if i have to wait decades or centuries—i will—without hesitance, without a blink, i will. For you, I'll keep being patient.”

“That's how worthy you are [name]. So wait for me please, no matter how long it takes for me to find you again, please wait.”

He spoke lowly, but certainly, no matter where you are, he hoped you'd recognize him, hoping you’d recognize his eyes you loved so much,

“Even if it means i'll have to die again and again, i’ll keep searching for you until we’re back home until i can hear your voice call my name again.”

“Wait for me, [name].”

Hoping you’d recognize your Simon.

、 

Somewhere along the memories,

、 

Somewhere along the universe,

、 

Somewhere along life and death,

、 

Somewhere along—

、 

“Simon.”

“Pardon?” he looked at you, puzzled expression written all over his face. “Whatd you just say?”

“My simon.”

We're home.

[killerpancakeburger]

Where I Can't Follow // Miguel O'Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel and you were a couple working together on interdimensional travel, until you tried it first and disappeared. Miguel never recovered from it.

Warnings: canon violence, mentions of blood and wounds, brief suicide ideation (not in a "i wanna die" way but in a "it would be better if I was gone" way).

Tags : Angst with a happy ending, "Don't go where I can't follow" trope.

Words: 2833 words.

A/N: This took forever omgggg, I searched for better vocab, I kept adding stuffs, I did this to myself but still... Here comes the ISTV! Miguel's gf lost to the multiverse story I mentionned in posts.

Today was a day like any other for Spiderman 2099. Waking up at the crack of dawn after a night that was more nightmares than restful sleep, Miguel stared at the ceiling for a brief moment; an arm over his forehead, thinking about all the tasks he had to accomplish today, fatalism sneaking through his veins. 

He used to sleep peacefully with you nearby, but that simply wasn’t an option anymore.

The multiverse didn’t offer him a moment of respite, ever. Countless alternative worlds to watch over, myriads of spider-people to shepherd, endless enemies to neutralise. And one mistake could unravel it all, wipe out millions of innocent lives. Every morning he reminded himself of his self-imposed, solitary duty; after he unknowingly doomed Gabriella’s world to annihilation; after he unintentionally sent you to meet your demise.

If you were there, you two would have dealt with this together, like you did with every other hardship that came your way.

He sighed and sat on his bed, passing a hand over his weary face, like this gesture could pull away his bone-deep fatigue, before calling Lyla and asking her about the state of the canon. She greeted him with her habitual cheer and sass. A vicious little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that the support and good mood she provided him with were fake, a simulation, a bunch of zeros and ones. He ignored it, as he always did. 

If you were there, your support would have been genuine, without a doubt.

As he listened to her reports, he put on gym’s clothes and headed out to the Spider Society's Strength and Conditioning Centre. At this early hour, he had the whole place to himself, which suited him perfectly. He wasn’t one for making small talk, especially when he just got out of bed. He worked out following the program he established with Lyla. 

He used to exercise and spar with you, but no one could compare to you.

Miguel then took a quick shower and glanced over the bathroom’s mirror as he was drying himself. His gaze lingered over the perpetual shadows under his eyes, the harsh lines of his face, the hollow of his cheeks, the broad of his shoulders. The person staring back at him was so different from two years ago. 

Would you even recognize him?

He shook his head in annoyance against himself, trying to get rid of his thoughts about you, yet sorely aware of the utter futility of it. There wasn’t a day where you didn’t cross his mind. He put on his suit, checking that it was entirely operational – “Lyla, can you run the suit diagnostics?” –, ate a spartiate breakfast washed down with a generous amount of coffee and reached his lab. 

An alert on one of the orange screens, indicating the presence of an anomaly in his own dimension, immediately caught his attention.

“Lyla, what can you tell me about this guy?”

“He’s nothing special. Just your average villain.”

“And I guess neither Jess nor Ben are awake yet?”

“You guessed right!”

“Hm.”

Miguel quickly took the decision to deal with the anomaly himself. It was just a routine mission like he’d done hundreds of times. A day just like any other, devoted to fixing his own mistakes.

***

It wasn’t a mission like the others. 

Or, rather, it wasn’t an anomaly like the others. The dimension he originated from was one Miguel had hardly any information about. And the Green Goblin he was facing was actually wiping the floor with him.

He wasn’t sure why. Had the weight of his sins finally caught up with him? Was the mass of his guilt falling down on his shoulders  tackling to the ground? Why was the memory of you so torturous and tenacious today?

Lyla was right by him, talking to him with agitation, but he couldn’t hear anything, like he was underwater. As the mutant walked over to him menacingly, and his own body didn’t answer when he tried to move, Miguel’s thoughts took an even darker turn. 

Maybe this was for the best. How could he have decently thought that he was the right person for saving the multiverse?  After what he did to you and Gabriella, he was just an ashamed culprit desperately trying to make up for his faults.

But he could never bring you back. Therefore never would he be able to repair his wrongs. Maybe it was better to put an end to the bloodshed while – 

CRASH.

Like a meteor, something that he didn’t see coming ploughed into his assailant, effectively sending him crashing into a wall. Before the Goblin could even think of getting back up, his lightning-fast saviour reached him in a split second and stepped on his chest. Miguel could now identify them as a human. When he heard them talk, he nearly choked.

“You lay a finger on him again, and I’ll rip you apart.”

Their voice was implacable. But it wasn’t what jolted Miguel, no. Their voice was yours.

He would recognize it between hundreds and yet – the rational part of him refused to accept it. It couldn’t be possible. He was delirious. He fainted during the fight and was dreaming. Another one of those oh so sweet but so agonising dreams where you came back to him. An illusion, a chimaera.

You made sure that the Green Goblin under you wouldn’t get back up before turning yourself in Miguel’s direction. Miguel O’ Hara. Your boyfriend, ex-coworker, lab partner. The one you’ve been trying to get back to for so long. You didn’t even know how long. You both knew that the first travel between dimensions would be experimental and dangerous, but you couldn’t imagine that it would strand you on an uncharted earth with a defective watch. It took you everything you had of intellect, resourcefulness and resolve to manage to make your way back here. However, as you reduced the distance between you two, filled to the brim with nothing but the overwhelming desire to throw yourself into his arms, you realised that something’s wrong – very wrong.

He hadn’t moved a muscle, like paralyzed; he hadn’t smiled back at you. Actually the expression on his face was breaking your heart. It was a combination of vivid sorrow and open disbelief. The tears of happiness in your eyes almost fell and an ominous shiver ran down your back as you grasped that he was refusing to believe you were real.

You braced yourself and kept going. As you got about two metres away from him, you called out to him.

"Miggy… It's me…"

"No", he said, and surely a stab to the heart would hurt less than this. "It can't be…" His voice was trembling in a way you never heard before.

You slowly crouched so your eyes were at the same level, like you were dealing with a wild but frightened animal. You talked to him the same way, slow and gentle.

"Miguel. Do you remember my first day at Alchemax? I spilled my coffee on our lab director. I was sure I had already lost my job but you diffused the situation with that deadpan humour of yours. Then when I tried to thank you, you played it cool, and told me you didn’t do it for me."

As you were talking, you stared at his face stubbornly, desperately looking for a sign that he recognized you. When you finished your plea, a single tear rolled down his cheek and he tried to reach for you despite his wounds. Without hesitation you gave in to your longing, closed the gap between the two of you and embraced him as hard as you could without breaking some ribs. The heartwarming feeling of his arms squeezing you against him somehow unlocked something in you and all your tears started to come out. The wet sensation on your shoulder made you aware that he was weeping too.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, on the ground, not a word spoken, crying in each other’s arms; clinging on to the other like something was going to tear you away at any minute; gripping each other like you were trying to fuse your bodies. Hearing Miguel’s muffled voice brought you back to the present time. 

“It’s my fault.”

You backed away slightly, thinking surely you heard him wrong.

“It’s all my fault”, he carried on with the tone of someone eaten away by guilt. “I should have done the first multiverse jump. I should have –”

You firmly grabbed his face and interrupted him.

“No, no, no. Listen to me, Miguel O’Hara. You will not bear this alone. I knew exactly what I was in for when I used the prototype. I knew the risks just as you did. I made this decision of my own free will, and I will not have you think otherwise for one more second. Do you understand?”

He looked at you in shock – you weren’t easy to make angry, and your burning glare, your inflexible tone and your furrowed eyebrows took him by surprise. 

“Miguel?”, you insisted, deadly serious. 

“...Yes”, he capitulated, realising that he had been robbing you of your agency and your role as a member of the team you two made. “I’m sorry.”

You smiled sadly at him and hugged him. 

“As long as you don’t do it again…”, you added playfully. “Now, how about we take care of your injuries?”

You got up easily; Miguel�� less.

“We also need to bring the Goblin with us”, groaned Miguel in pain as he tried to get up.

“Oh right.”

You had already completely forgotten about this guy, Miguel’s state occupying all your mind.

You offered him both your hands to help, smiling maliciously.

“Do you need me to carry you, tough guy?”

“I’m fine”, he grunted, and just as he was saying that, he stumbled. You quickly took one of his hands, bringing his arm over your shoulders and grabbing one side of his waist.

Miguel sighed. 

“You can’t transport the Goblin if you hold me like this.”

“Yeah, but I don’t care about the Goblin, I care about you”, you replied very seriously, but also unable to stop the smile spreading your lips in joy and amusement.

He rolled his eyes half-heartedly, and you knew pertinently that he wasn’t really upset.

“I’ll just send someone.”

“Someone?”, you asked, having no idea of who he was referring to.

“You’ll see”, he retorted, giving you a smug smile. 

You were thinking of a good comeback when he called Lyla.

“Hiiiii gurl”, she shrieked when appearing in front of you. Truth was, she’d been watching you two this whole time, but she wanted to give you two privacy.

You gave her a radiant smile.

“Hi Lyla. I missed you so much!”

As you were exchanging pleasantries, Miguel stepped in, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Are you two done? We need to get a move on before the Goblin wakes up.”

“Aye aye Captain”, grinned Lyla. “I already called Ben to get the green guy.”

“Don’t be jealous”, you chuckled, smooching him exaggeratingly on the cheek.

Your favourite AI opened a portal for you and bid you goodbye.

“Have fun, lovebirds!”

Miguel let out an irritated growl as you laughed frankly while carrying him through the portal.

***

“Miss, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out…”, requested the Spider Doctor near you.

Your mind was still reeling with all that you just discovered, as you escorted Miguel to the infirmary : the Spider Society, their gigantic headquarters, the thousands of spider people from thousands of dimensions that worked there, their system of management of anomalies… It was so much to take in. Everything that Miguel accomplished without you. A part of you felt overwhelmed with excitement for the possibilities while another felt a pang of regret and bitterness over everything you missed.

Some Spider People tried to engage in a conversation with you, like a man with pink slippers and a toddler, but Miguel shut them down – “This can wait until later” – or ignored them.

You were about to comply with the doctor’s request but Miguel, sat on a bed, intervened:

“She stays.” The commanding tone in his voice made it sound like he would not tolerate any kind of noncompliance, but also that he was used to being obeyed without question. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him from behind the doc – the Miguel you knew wasn’t someone who enjoyed being in charge.

“As you wish, Sir”, agreed the physician immediately.

Once he was done checking over Miguel, bandaging him and providing him with painkillers, he rapidly exited the room, leaving you two alone. You approached your favourite Spiderman with a disapproving clicking of the tongue, hands on your hips. 

“We don’t bully our nursing staff in this house, Mr O’Hara.”

He pouted and grabbed you by the waist to bring you closer.

“I wasn’t going to let him make you leave me.”

You could feel, via the pressure he was exerting on your body – one that would have hurt a normal human – that he was still afraid that you would slip like sand through his fingers.

Standing between his legs, you took his face between your hands, delicately tracing the dark circles under his eyes with your thumbs, before passing your hand through his hair, clearing his face of some unruly strands. He closed his eyes under your touch like a cat. 

You wanted so much to make him understand that you wouldn’t vanish ever again, to appease all his fears with a couple of sentences. But you knew that time was necessary to dress both your wounds, so instead you kissed him, something you held back from doing until he saw a doctor.

He kissed you back softly at first, like you were going to disintegrate if he was too vehement, but he rapidly let go of his self-control. It felt like he had been a man dying of thirst in a desert and you were the first source of water he came upon. You let his hands wander over your body, as yours did the same, and you marvelled at the new broadness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar swelling of his muscles. Then you felt the tips of his fingers slip under your top, and you pushed him away with a chuckle. 

The crestfallen expression he displayed was adorable, and as he opened his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, you stopped him with a forefinger across his mouth.

“Healing first, fun later, ok?”

“I can– “ he started, but you cut in.

“If the roles were reversed, would you yield to my demands?”

The heavy silence that followed and the disgruntled grimace he granted you were a sufficient answer. 

“That’s what I thought”, you smiled, pleased with yourself.

With Miguel’s enhanced healing, leaving the infirmary was a question of a couple of days at most. You barely left his side during that time, sneaking in food from the cafeteria. And you talked, talked, talked. There was so much to catch up, so much to make up for. He told you how he hopelessly looked for you, and how excruciating it was to abandon searching for you after months. How he built the Spider Society from the ground up and recruited a strike force among the Spiderpeople from other dimensions. How he learnt the hard way how crucial it was to keep the canon intact after accidentally causing a whole universe’s demise. How his time was split between saving your earth and capturing anomalies. You narrated your perilous journey, utterly alone on an unknown earth, with only your powers and your wits to save you from the hostile inhabitants and harsh climate from this cold, frozen world. How you could only manage to cross short distances between dimensions until you came across a more advanced one. 

Eventually, Miguel got discharged, and as you were falling on his neck and kissing him in congratulations, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you into his arms. You felt your cheeks burning.

“Wait, wait… you’re not gonna carry me like that in public, right?!”

He smirked.

“I own the place, I can do what I want.” 

You punched him in the shoulder.

“And I wanted to carry you bridal style to the infirmary, but I did not, did I?!”

 “Aouw!” He squeaked in pain. “I’m kidding! I’m gonna open a portal to my room.”

“Do you also open a portal to go from your bed to your couch or…?”

“Only when my girlfriend who’s been missing for a year honours me with her presence.”

The way he stared at you when he said this, crimson eyes ablaze with yearning, with an intensity no one ever did before, you were already feeling yourself unravelling for him, the sensation accompanied by a fervent desire to make him come undone under you.

[h0neytalk]

Practicing the Arabic Alphabet

I honestly lucked out so much taking Arabic in college and learning basic MSA reading/writing/grammar from an excellent professor but I’m gonna compile the most useful things we did in class here to help people learning on their own (this isn’t focused on resources, just strategies, might do a separate post with worksheets and videos but they’re pretty easy to find):

Get the alphabet in front of you. We had a packet with a page for every letter with the letter written in the three positions, pronunciations, names, and lines to trace and write like 100 times. And then a page with all the diacritics. These sheets abound for free online. Make yourself an alphabet packet. Watch copious videos/listen to recordings going over the letters and how they sound. Repeat it back. Work in chunks and don’t move to the next set until you can recognize and write the current set.

Tracing! Learn to write the letters right to left and with the proper order from day one. This sounds obvious but people in my class were still drawing letters left to right as isolated shapes next to each other so idk maybe it’s not. Having nice handwriting in Arabic is both satisfying and absurdly helpful. Learn how the letters connect. Spend more time than you think is necessary on this.

Write English words and sentences phonetically using diacritics and Arabic letters. Do not worry about translation and spelling. Just make the connection between shape -> sound. Use anything you have. Lists of names, entire pages from books and magazines, texts from friends, menus. Literally anything. Work through how to make those words with the new alphabet. You will learn a surprising amount about the language and pronunciation by doing this. How do you translate sounds that don’t exist? What about multiple sounds where English only has one? Read it back with the accent.

Transcribe English phonetically. Same as above but do it without the English in front of you and just listening. Make that voice to visual connection.

Hand write word lists once you get to vocab. Then type them on your laptop and phone (if you want to be able to type in Arabic, also highly recommend a keyboard cover with the letters next to the Latin alphabet). Copy all the diacritics even though that’s not necessarily how native speakers do it. I have a notebook that looks like it belongs to lunatic toddler because it just has the same words and snippets written over and over again lmao.

Finally, transcribe Arabic. If you can use something with a transcript or captions to check your work even better! But don’t check for perfect spelling, check you used mostly the right letters and marks. You will definitely smash some words together and miss a silent or elided letter or something but try and hear the difference between ع and ا or ق and ك etc. The more sources you use the better.

We did this for one full semester of 50 minute classes 3 times a week while sprinkling in some basic vocab towards the second half. It felt like forever at the time but I never lost my ability to phonetically read and write in Arabic despite 4 years of complete non-use while living in America in an area without any significant Arabic-speaking population or language presence. It is absolutely CHISELED into my brain.

[softguarnere]

It Will Have Been Worth It

David Webster x reader

Soulmate!au in which the first words you ever hear your soulmate say appear on your skin when you turn thirteen

A/N: Out of everything I've ever written for this fandom, this fic has been one that has given me the most trouble. According to my notes, I started it on October 31st of last year 😬 None of my ideas for it felt right when I had them on paper, and I eventually just left it sitting in my drafts. Randomly got inspiration for it a few days ago, and now it's done! Better late than never, I guess A very special thank you to @brassknucklespeirs (welcome back babe, I missed you!!!!) and @liebgotts-lovergirl who both chatted with me about this fic last fall when I started it, and who both helped me with ideas all those months ago 💕 As usual, this is written for the fictional depictions from the tv show - no disrespect to the real life veterans! Warnings: alcohol, mentions of war, the author using every impressive high school vocab word she could possibly remember

Just because David has a large vocabulary doesn't mean that he's in total command of it at all times. Throwing around words that make other people furrow their brows as they try to ascertain what he means brings him some sense of satisfaction, but he also has a habit of flashing his arsenal of expressions when he's particularly nervous, hoping to throw off whoever has made him feel as if he's lost his footing. And when he's had a few drinks? Forget about it – all the words he once had at his disposal are suddenly either strung together to form nonsensical sentences or are nowhere to be found.

Is he pretentious? Perhaps, although he would argue that there's much more to the story. An elementary school teacher taking a liking to a poem he wrote when he was eight and exclaiming, "David, I think that you could be a great writer some day!" may have started him down that path, but he ultimately blames the words that appeared on his skin when he was thirteen.

He used to love looking at his parents’ soulmate tattoos. "What a lovely name" on his mother's wrist and "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet" on his father's. It always seemed so romantic to him, the thought that those had been the first words that his parents ever heard each other say, and that they got to flaunt those beautiful lines that they had given each other.

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it" appeared on the inside of his forearm on his thirteenth birthday. A beautiful line, really.

It's haunted him ever since. 

"Make sure that you give your soulmate a tattoo that's just as pretty." His father had winked at him and slid him a piece of birthday cake – strawberry with vanilla buttercream frosting, he still remembers – unaware of the panic he had just set off in David's chest. Because that was the first time he had realized that, yes, he was responsible for giving his soulmate a poetic tattoo. His own is a beautiful turn of phrase. Whoever his soulmate is, they deserve a line that looks just as pretty on their own skin. It’s a duty that he comes to take very seriously.

Every person he meets, Webster makes sure to compose an amiable greeting for them, just in case. He’ll quote Shakespeare if he finds they’re particularly attractive, invoking his parents’ first meeting, since you never know. So what if some people push hard sighs through their nose whenever he opens his mouth to speak? He’s a student of literature; producing striking sentences is half of his job.

And, he reminds himself, one day he’ll find his soulmate, and he won’t have to worry about creating turns of phrase that are unequaled and unforgettable – except for his novels, of course. But whatever words he provides for his soulmate’s mark, he’s determined to make them as dazzling as the bright light thrown from a suncatcher on the clearest summer day.

. . .

It’s at seventeen that he learns that not everyone finds their soulmate. The library is quiet, save for the sounds coming from the diligent scratching of pencils, the turning of pages, and the soft breathing of focused students. He turns a page in his own book and is confronted with the staggering statistic that only twenty percent of people are recorded to find theirs.

“That’s less than one fourth of the population!” He exclaims to himself without meaning to, disrupting the tranquility of the study space and garnering several peeved looks for his outburst. A seemingly unnecessary one to everyone else, but justified in his own mind.

Twenty percent! He’s still aghast as he gathers his own books and escorts himself from the library. The cool breeze blowing through the late afternoon can’t even distract him from the train of thought that has now run off the rails, chugging along through his mind with no sign of stopping.

Because now, come to think of it, people get married all the time, soulmate tattoos or not. And there’s no law or anything stating that you have to marry your soulmate once you meet them; they’re simply the person who would be the best suited for you. You could go about your lives as nothing more than just friends – or worse, nothing at all, even if you did find each other.

To say that the conclusions reached that afternoon astound him would be an understatement of epic proportions. He’s never quite the same after that. But it doesn’t stop his extraordinary expressions.

. . .

War breaks out. He leaves college for the experience. He volunteers for the paratroopers because, even though they’re new, they’re the best. If he wants to write about war – or write anything good, really – he’ll have to get his hands dirty with experience so that the sentences that stain his pages can be clean, clear, concise, and indelible to his readers. Honestly, it’s not until he hears one of the other men in his company point out that the new migrations and travel opportunities given to them by the conflict may well improve their chances of finding their soulmates that he realizes that statistic he once read will soon be incorrect.

For a brief and terrifying moment, Webster – as he is now called amongst his fellow soldiers – thinks that maybe Joe Liebgott is his soulmate, and that he’s responsible for giving him a really awful line. Webster had made an offhanded comment about the quality of the eggs one morning at breakfast, and the Californian had given him such a perplexed look that Webster’s panic led him to believe that the cab driver must have “What do they season their eggs with around here? Sawdust?” somewhere on his person, and that the reason he remained so quiet around him was due to not wanting Webster to hear him speak so that they would never know if they were actually soulmates. Luckily those fears had been laid to rest when Webster caught a glimpse of the words “Cabbie, if you drive any faster, I think the car will start flying” on his leg during a run up Currahee. It turned out that he simply didn’t agree with Webster’s observations on the quality of the eggs. Still, Webster remembers to be more careful with his words.

When he can be, actually. Which is not when he’s been drinking.

The British pub is loud with the sounds of servicemen singing and laughing well into the night. The general consensus that they’re finally going to be thrust into combat soon has filled many men with a renewed zest for life, and from the sounds and sights all around, people are relishing the nights like these while they can. And who can blame them?

“What did they even teach you at Harvard?” Hoobler wants to know as Webster downs a shot. “I mean, as a literature major, and all.”

“Is it just reading?” Skinny Sisk questions. “’Cause if so, then anyone with a library card can probably get a degree.”

Webster purses his lips, his glass returning to the table with a harsh slam that announces the displeasure that he’s trying to keep out of his voice. “Ha ha ha. Very funny.”

“I was being serious,” Hoobler clarifies. “You know, just out of curiosity, and all.”

“How do you even use a literature degree?” The conversation has caught the attention of Joe Toye and George Luz at the next table, and they turn to join Webster, Hoobler, and Sisk, suddenly very interested in the academic intricacies of studying literature.

“Well, I’m studying literature because I want to be a writer,” Webster admits.

“And write about what?”

Webster makes a vague gesture, trying to encapsulate their environment, the lives they’ve lived since enlisting, the world itself – everything. “War,” he says instead, an understatement.

“Hey!” Luz says brightly. “You could review books. There’s an idea.”

Toye cocks an eyebrow. “Is there money in that?”

“You could review Hitler’s book,” Luz continues. “Really tear it apart on it’s word choices, and all that.”

“Hitler can read? Who knew!” Skinny asks, making everyone laugh.

“What do you think he even would read? In all his spare time, I mean, when he’s not invading countries and forcing men like us out of our homes to come and stop him.”

All eyes immediately turn to Webster, expectantly awaiting an answer. The literature student freezes with a bottle of beer halfway to his lips.

“What?” He asks.

“It was a question, Professor,” Toye says. “You gonna answer it?”

“You were serious?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Despite himself, Webster can feel his eyebrows shoot up, betraying his surprise. “How would I know?”

“Well, in your expert opinion,” Luz suggests.

Skinny nudges Hoobler. “He just doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know.”

Heat rushes to Webster’s face, and it’s not entirely from the warm glow of the alcohol. If it weren’t for the dim lighting of the pub, the tips of his ears would probably be glowing a bright pink with his ignominy.

“They didn’t teach me that at Harvard,” he says.

Hoobler smirks. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“Awe, come on!” Webster exclaims. “I’m just trying to fight a war. I am not prepared to make speculations about Hitler’s literary preferences!”

“Excuse me,” a new, much sweeter voice cuts in. At once, all the men’s defenses are down as they turn to see two prepossessing women standing at the edge of their group. They look familiar, somehow, and if it weren’t for the dim lighting and the alcohol, Webster would swear that he’s seen them in passing before. “Hi, I’m Evelyn, and this is my friend (Y/N).”

The second woman, seemingly a little shyer, offers them a small wave and a smile as her friend takes the lead. Perhaps it’s the darkness playing tricks on Webster’s eyes, but he could swear that she’s looking at him, and that she suddenly looks a little fidgety as the introduction goes on.

“We’re with the Red Cross,” Evelyn continues, her words providing explanation as to her familiarity. Then, implausibly, she fixes her gaze directly on Webster. “(Y/N) here has been watching you for a while, so I decided it was high time that we came over and introduced ourselves.” She leaves the obvious unspoken – because war is an uncertain thing and it’s better to die with no regrets than to always wonder what could have been.

Me?! The other paratrooper’s eyes flick between (Y/N) and Webster as he stands, his friends struck with the same sense of wonder. With Skinny or Tab, this sort of scene is not infrequent, but nothing of the sort has happened to Webster – if he’s being completely honest, not even in college.

He clears his throat. So focused on willing his hands not to feel sweaty through sheer force of will, Webster extends his for a shake, not even bothering to watch his words.

“Hello. I’m David Webster,” he says, noticing how soft your hand is in his. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You beam at him. “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it.”

He freezes. Behind him, he can feel his friends tense up as well. “Oh my God,” he whispers, for it’s all he can do. The words that he’s been waiting his entire life to hear have just come out of your mouth – and he’s just recited what must be the blandest line in the history of soulmate tattoos!

Webster rolls up his shirt sleeve and reveals his tattoo, the beautiful line staring up at him in confirmation. Air vacates his lungs, leaving him breathless as his heart pounds in his chest.

You begin to roll up your own sleeve, and Webster winces at the anticipation of seeing his introduction on your arm. But when the ink on your arm is exposed, you glance up at him, something like a smirk playing at your lips.

“Oh my God,” Webster says again, wanting to kick himself, and for a completely different reason this time.

“It was the first thing that I ever heard you say,” you tell him.

Evelyn gasps, then slaps a hand over her mouth, though it does no good to contain the giggles that still pour out. The other Easy Company men crowd around, trying to catch a glimpse of your arm.

There in the pub, in front of everyone, the first words that you, Webster’s soulmate, ever heard come out of his mouth stain your arm, making several people laugh: I’m just trying to fight a war. I am not prepared to make speculations about Hitler’s literary preferences!

At least now he doesn’t have to waste the rest of his life being so cautious with his words.

[defining-skyology]

Defining Descendants.

The ideas, theories, and storybeats surrounding sky-children obviously could, have, and need space for 6+ articles on their own, but in order to create a simple, comprehensible single Definition of who we are and what we are, we need only turn to the concept art that TGC and Tom Zhao (among others) have provided us.

Sky-children are 'canonically' dubbed as "Descendants" by the concepts.

This effectively implies that sky-children are succeeding Ancestors / the next 'phase', or the 'replacement' if you will.

We as the new children of the Light, have inherited this world from our predecessors, and tasked with the caretaking of it, and with having better resolve than the Ancestors ever had.

"Tasked"?

Who gave us this task? The Light, of course. The collective Megabird that has sent us down into the world, encouraging us to take a Form, and to step across the endless first steps your newborn moth would ever make.

And what are the exact words the Light has told new generations of Descendants every year, even if the message has slightly changed over the years?

"Go forth"

You have been sent here. You have been given a purpose; a directive. We hear the voice of the Light depicted by AURORA's haunting vocals and we just know that this objective, this goal that we have; is programmed into us. From the moment the Descendant is born they are given Purpose.

And the form we have taken up is so purposeful too.

If our goal was to empathize with the spirits of Ancestors and help them reach Connection, then we need to be able to become Lost as well. Unlike creatures, we need to be able to lose our wings, become grounded, and stoop down into the state the Ancestors unfortunately ended up in.

The concepts depict creatures of Light as divine, and Ancestors as grounded, worldly, material. Creatures are Connected to the Megabird, while Ancestors are disconnected.

Everything that makes creatures what they are. (Connection to the collective; True nature.)

Everything that makes Ancestors what they are. (Ambition; drive to change and adapt.)

We, as the Descendants of the Light, are all of that and more.

In order to pick them from that state and bring them Home.

"Go forth, and return our Spirits to the Stars."

This is our mission.

We are divine like the Creatures.

But we are also vessels, not just created to gain Light, but designed to lose it as well. Designed to give it up.

Designed to give ourselves up.

This general conclusion that I came to is where our wording comes from.

There's clearly a lot we can theorize about and a lot that we can try to piece together about the finer details of what Descendants are, but I think, for the sake of being able to flatly explain them, this is exactly what and who We are.

Angelic Beings,

Thematically (not literally) part creature, part Ancestor,

That were given a goal to save others.

What this Definition will help us understand later on; I'm not exactly sure. This Definition among quite a few other terms that I'll be using throughout this blogs lifetime; I immediately assume is 'commonly known', which is unfair and ridiculous of me. There is plenty of merit to making sure I can take the time to confidently and solidly define each term in my scary Sky vocab list. At the very least, I will give it my best in order to make it all count.

Thank you for reading, and I hope y'all have a good day/night ❤️

[geryone]

ok since you asked for dayspring thoughts.

deep inhale.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT WAS THAT????? THAT WAS SO GOOD MY GODDDD OMG.......the mixture of shallow lust + mind-numbing devotion & all-consuming love my beloved !!!!! also was the narrator lazarus? because there are implications towards the end 🤔🤔🤔

i thought it was a little too long-drawn towards the end, but not annoyingly so. i mean. there are some books that drag on & on & on & no matter how good the prose is you sometimes want to throttle it !!!!! but dayspring was not as long-drawn as that so. thank u mr anthony oliveira !!!!!

also the vocab. man the VOCAB. i had to look up sooo many words up the dictionary and guess what i absolutely fuckin loved it !!!! got to know sooo many new words & syntax &c &c <33

but like. i think im a fujoshi at heart because when the scenes w jesus x narrator graphic fag sex came on i was sooo horny as well as simply unamused like. i was literally armand on the cuck chair ygwim??? + lots of asshole description. loved it.

also some of the lines......like.....grahhhhhh losing my mind !!!!!!!!!! something something the whole of my life before and since i have broken every promise i ever made so that i might more perfectly serve that one.......i was utterly lost i was utterly yours.......break my heart as many times as you need to i am yours here at last is the thing i was made for !!!!!!! KILL MEEEEE MR OLIVEIRA !!!!!!

some parts of it felt a little childish and immature but those were negligible as compared to the rest of the lovely, wonderful text. sometimes the writing felt too difficult (esp towards the end) but i felt like that was the vibe oliveira was going for (everything gets more complicated & fever dream-like as the narrator struggles to cope w life after jesus’ death, at least acc to my views) sooo not too many complaints overall !!!

exhale.

wow okay that felt good.

Hehehehehehe love seeing your thoughts!! This has been the book I can’t stop coming back to this year!! Definitely agree that there are various areas where it reads as childish & juvenile & that the ending felt feverish & hard to decipher at points!! I think the writing is at its best when it dives into the sections about love, devotion, & sex!! I was definitely most compelled by those parts & the parts about grief

[virgil-my-emo-son]

Spiral Out, Try to Float--Logan and Virgil, Hurt/Comfort

Requested by @amateurmasksmith a very long time ago 😭 Apologies for how long this took. School's been crazy!

Summary: Logan has an anxiety attack. Virgil helps him.

Relationships: Platonic Analogical

Words: 610

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51837730

The world was spinning. Which, of course, it was supposed to, but not like this.

Logan put his head in his hands, breathing fast. Snippets from his extensive to-do list whirled in his brain. Write current skit. Brainstorm next skit. Schedule meeting with Roman. He squeezed his eyes shut. Deep-clean kitchen. Write next week’s schedule.

Logan knew what he should do, Patton had talked him through things after the last time he’d had an attack like this. Close his eyes, take deep breaths, think of calm imagery. A still lake. The peace of deep space.

He couldn’t seem to get enough control of himself to do any of that now, though. I’ll never get all of it done. Never. He could feel the corners of his eyes begin to prickle with tears. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t be crying over this.

“Logan?”

Logan’s head snapped towards the door. Virgil leaned against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, his face contorted in concern.

“Will you—will you—will you close the door?” Logan stammered. Virgil pulled the door shut, walking into the room.

“You okay? Well, I mean, clearly… what’s up?” Virgil sat on the side of the desk; one hand emerging from his pocket to run through his hair.

“I’m—” Logan forced himself to take a long, shuddering breath. “I just have a lot going on.”

“And you’re having an anxiety attack.” Virgil said gently.

Logan took another breath. “No… you have anxiety attacks. I don’t.”

Virgil laughed. “Logan, you absolutely have anxiety attacks.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re shaking.” Virgil pointed out. Logan looked at his hand, and sure enough, it was trembling. “You’re having an anxiety attack. It’s okay.”

“I need to get things done. I need to get things done. I don’t—I can’t—it’ll never get finished.” Logan’s breathing got quick again as he refocused on his issue.

“Logan.” Virgil’s hand hovered above his. “Can I touch you?”

Logan’s eyes flicked up to Virgil’s as he nodded. Virgil took Logan’s hand. “Can you focus on me for a bit? Focus on my hand, how it feels in yours.”

Logan closed his eyes, moving his entire awareness to his fingers intertwined with Virgil’s. He noticed every little twitch of his fingers, the weight of Virgil’s hand, the sweat on his palm. His breathing began to slow.

“Good.” Virgil murmured. “Now can you imagine space? Neptune, or the butterfly nebula, or… anything like that?”

Logan almost smiled at that. He’d rambled enough about space that Virgil knew it was an interest of his, but he talked about his favorite planet and nebula more than other topics.

He envisioned the butterfly nebula, its vibrant colors, its ever-shifting forms and shapes. He lost himself in it, Virgil’s hand his tether as his breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed back to normal.

Virgil squeezed his hand. “Logan?”

Logan exhaled, opening his eyes. “Yes.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Yeah?”

Logan nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” Virgil gave Logan’s hand another squeeze, then released it.

“Don’t—” Logan swallowed. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t leave.” Virgil gave him a soft smile. “Do you want to do something, and then if you want you can come back to your work? When I’m stressed, I make myself tea.”

“I believe that would be a prudent step to take.”

Virgil laughed a little. “Prudent. Back to your vocab already.”

Logan smiled a bit, too. “Prudent isn’t an excessively difficult or complicated word.”

“I guess, but it’s not the most common word in the world, either.”

“I suppose.”

“Come on.” Virgil hopped off the desk. “Lets’ get you some tea.”

[washa]

I listened to Lasko’s recent audio and here’s my favourite personal comments/thoughts! (GOD IM SO SWEET FOR THE DAMN CREW. also most of this is Lasko's dialogue and me screaming over it."

God I love his ranting. 

Oooh earthier colours? OH 100% mahogany, SLAPS

LMFAO THE CRICUT. Yk my roomie has one of those, we’ve never used it but it’s there !!

Awh he’s so observant 😭  

“Top speed” my ass. He’s gonna put Eminem outta business. 

Lasko.. Baby 💕😕

“Come to fruition.” Yes wow me with that vocab.

URGH IM GONNA SCREAM HES SO 2RUIQRUIOFLJKSACJKL yk

Yes, that does make me feel better.

IM SO HAPPY WE’RE GETTING ANOTHER FRIENDSGIVING

Unrelated, can i just say how happy i am Lasko can joke about his anxiety in a good way. 

“They’re my family. They’re not the one I started with, but they’re the one I found. The one that’s actually a family to me.” SHUT UPPP 😭

THE. WAY. HE. TALKS. ABOUT. THEM. 🙏

“And you make me happy, you make me feel cared for and respected and wanted, and the time I spend with you makes me feel so fucking good.” AND YOU DESERVE SO MUCH MORE BABY 

AWH HE TALKS ABOUT US??? 😭😭 oh wait that bonus audio after the date LMFAOOA

STOPPP HE’S SO FUCKING SWEET I’M GONNA START CRYING 😕💕

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, It doesn’t have to be anything. It’s just the first!” LORD ABOVE HE’S SO SWEET

Yeah.. I think Lasko’s first impressions were, interesting.? Yeah it was bad 😭

OOH LASKO POVS!!

HELP THE PAPERWORK, I FORGOT ABOUT THAT. He would’ve suffocated him LMFAO

Freelancer was probably blinking their eyes in confusion in that video. 

OH MY GOD THEY KNOW ABOUT GAVIN AND LASKO??? I bet my whole foot it gets brought up and Lasko’s listener teases Lasko abt it.

Yeah the bowling video, poor Lasko could’ve had a stroke in the chair.

Oh yeah how did Huxley and Lasko meet? YEAH AND EVEN IF THEY DRIFTED APART, THEY BOTH REMEMBERED SMALL THINGS ABOUT EACH OTHER ARIJLDK.

Oh god, if he starts talking about his friends, I'm gonna kick my legs like a little school girl. OH MY GOD HE IS. 

I love how Lasko had to think of a word and chose “intense”. 

“He’s passionate, and he’s stubborn, and he’s strong, but he’s also generous and thoughtful and driven.” REALLL

I love Damien so fucking much. He’s one of my favourite characters, he’s so misjudged and deserves every good thing that he gets. The fact he fights for full certification is to help humanborns, de(a)mons and other judged people against a corrupt government. He pushed himself and nearly lost himself just to help someone. He’s such a good guy, even if it comes out wrong.  

“And Gavin can come off like he’s just some vapid, surface-level… shit-starter, for lack of a better term.” LMFAO FAIR 

“But he’s also loyal, and bold, and brave, and a person who is really, new to having others actually care about him, and the genuine surprise in his eyes when people give him, Just the basic kindnesses that friends do for one another, is.. somehow sweet and heartbreaking at the same time.” STOP IT

Gavin again, so misunderstood. He was judged for being him, put through so much bigotry and the fact he found people that loved him for who he was is SO FUCKING SWEET. I CANNOT RIGHT NOW

“And the way that he and Freelancer complement one another, and seeing how that relationship has helped Freelancer” YOU GET IT LASKO YOU GET IT. 

“Who has always been sweet and giving and supportive, but also guarded, and closed off, and completely in denial about their own emotional needs, to their own detriment, to their own.. harm, really. It’s been an amazing thing to see.” STOP IT YK THE INVERSION AFTERMATH WHERE THEY CRY. GOD.

“With Huxley, from the outside he can seem… naïve. Or unfocused, just a goofball without anything more to him, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He is one of the most emotionally intelligent people I’ve ever met.” AMENN 🙏🙏

 “He just gets people, he understands the motivation behind people’s actions and he has the emotional maturity to react to that driving force rather than the action itself. And he’s easygoing, and flexible, but he’s not listless at all, in reality he has really concrete goals and plans and he pursues those with a determination that could rival Damien’s, he just… presents it differently. I think that’s one of the things that makes them work so well together. They’re two sides of the same coin in so many different ways.” I can’t even say anything, Lasko said it all for me. 

Also i think this video is Erik like explaining and showing how much character developing he did. Good job Erik, you did amazing. 

“And most importantly they see those things in other people. They’ll see those things in you. Because you are kind, and thoughtful, and generous with your time and your patience and your support, and you’re funny, and you’re sweet, and you make me so fucking happy to be a part of your life, and for you to be a part of mine.” WATCH ME WEEP

Yes the beginning, I’M SO HYPED AND EMOTIONAL RN. 

“You’re stuck with me. We’re in this for the long haul now.” Wouldn’t have it any other way.

LMFAO, lets go mahogany!

[russianstudyblr]

Week 5 Overview

Hello hello! My weekly overview post is late because we lost power and internet for most of the past few days. Classes yesterday were also excused for the same reason, so I got an impromptu four day week/three day weekend, which was nice. I'm happy to say I spent much of my off time studying and cementing vocab and grammar concepts into my head.

Week 5 started out tough because I didn't memorize enough of the week's vocab in time, but it evened out near the end, and I'm pretty much back on top of everything now.

Successes this week:

Got a passing grade on the lexical (lexicals aren't graded anyway, they're just pre-quiz vocab quizzes, but if you get less than a 75% on two in a row you get mandatory tutoring for a bit)

I didn't get my grade back for the actual vocab quiz but I think I did better on the quiz than on the lexical

I spent the last two days getting ahead on written homework, so now the only homework I have to worry about for the next few days is stuff that requires a computer

I also spent the last two days learning the next lesson's vocab, so I'm actually ready for this week!

Things I need to work on:

I definitely know now not to let myself get away with knowing anything less than 100% of the vocab words before the week starts. Lesson learned!

In general still need to get better at speaking

Plans for the weekend, or what's left of it (dude I had so many good plans for the weekend, but most of them required a computer so I couldn't do them with the power outage):

Get back to Duolingo, specifically on the computer, to get better at typing in Russian

I ordered sheet magnets online and I wanna type up all my vocab words and cut them out to make refrigerator magnets of them. Idk I just thought it was a nice little idea

Record myself reading from the Russian Harry Potter book I have every day to track progress on speaking/reading aloud. Also thought that would be a nice little idea.

Do the parts of my homework that require Wifi lol

Hopefully the power and wifi actually stay on (it's been on and off, mostly off, the whole time). It was actually kind of nice, though-- I got a lot done in terms of studying, and I also made some progress on a drawing. And it kind of brought the whole base together. And it just plain gave some great spooky vibes at night when everything was dark. Idk it was fun.

All in all: this week started out mediocre because I wasn't prepared enough, but ended pretty well. I think week six is gonna start well too!

[dailydaneo]

What's Your Favorite Ghibli Movie? | Korean Vocabulary List

We all love Ghibli movies. And probably everyone has that one movie which they feel particularly pulled towards or which has the most (nostalgic..?) sentiment for them.

Being led by my own personal nostalgic sentiments, I've been meaning to rewatch ‘Nausicaa From the Valley of the Wind’ but this time dubbed/subbed in Korean. I thought knowing the plot beforehand would be more effective for language learning than jumping straight into a movie I haven't previously watched and familiarized myself with. When I was trying to search it up on the internet, I figured it will surely have '나우시카' somewhere in the title but had no clue as for the rest of it... Thankfully, the search engine algorithms are indeed very smart and helped me find what I was searching for anyways haha.

Yeah, well, and later here I am thanks to my curiosity to know every single title of Ghibli movies in Korean 😸 Half of them are pretty straight-forward and intuitive while another half offers some good new vocab 😼 Most importantly – now you'll know how to say in Korean which Ghibli movie is your favorite!

I didn’t translate names, grammar points nor repeating words twice. However, I did add literal translations when the title differs from the English one.

그럼 시작해보자!

1. Studio Ghibli 스튜디오 지브리

2. Nausicaa From the Valley of the Wind 바람계곡의 나우시카, 1984 바람 n. = wind 계곡 n. = valley

3. Laputa: Castle in the Sky 천공의 성 라퓨타, 1986 천공 n. = the skies; the heavens 성 n. = castle

4. Grave of the Fireflies 반딧불이의 묘, 1988 반디 n. = firefly 불 n. = fire; light 반딧불 n. = the firefly lights 묘 n. = grave

5. My Neighbor Totoro 이웃집 토토로, 1988 이웃집 n. = a neighboring house(hold)

6. Kiki's Delivery Service 마녀 배달부 키키, 1989 마녀 n. = witch 배달부 n. = postperson, delivery person Literal title: Witch Delivery Girl Kiki

7. Only Yesterday 추억은 방울방울, 1991 추억 n. = memory(-ies) 방울방울 n./adv. = the manner of drops (of water-like consistency) dripping down one by one Literal title: Dripping Memories

8. Porco Rosso 붉은 돼지, 1992 붉다 desc. v. = to be colored in blood/ripe cherry red; to be "colored"/involved with/influenced by communism the fitting double meaning here :-) 돼지 n. = pig Literal title: The Crimson Pig

9. Ocean Waves 바다가 들린다, 1993 바다 n. = sea; ocean 들리다 v. = to be heard, to be audible (often simply translated as "to hear" but actual "to hear" is 듣다) Literal title: The Sound of Sea

10. Pom Poko 폼포코 너구리 대작전, 1994 너구리 n. = racoon 대작전 n. = a big (strategic/military) operation Literal title: The Big War of Pom Poko Racoons

11. Whisper of the Heart 귀를 기울이면, 1995 귀 n. = ear 기울이다 v. = to lean, to tilt; to concentrate on smth, to direct one's attention/efforts to smth 귀를 기울이다 phr. = to listen attentively and carefully Literal title: When You Listen Closely

12. Princess Mononoke 모노노게 히메, 1997

13. My Neighbors the Yamadas 이웃집 야마다군, 1999

14. Spirited Away 센과 치히로의 행방불명, 2001 행방 n. = the state of having walked some direction/place; whereabouts 불명 n. = the state of smth not being certain 행방불명 n. = the state of being lost, missing Literal title: The Missing of Sen and Chihiro

15. The Cat Returns 고양이의 보은, 2002 고양이 n. = cat 보은 n. = the action of repaying, showing gratitude towards sb Literal title: The Cat Repays

16. Howl's Moving Castle 하울의 움직이는 성, 2004 움직이다 v. = to move

17. Tales from Earthsea 게드전기, 2006

18. Ponyo 벼랑 위의 포뇨, 2008 벼랑 n. = cliff 위 n. = top, the above Literal title: Ponyo From Atop the Cliff

19. Arietty 마루 밑 아리에티, 2010 마루 n. = floor 밑 n. = under, the below Literal title: Arietty From Under the Floor

20. From Up the Poppy Hill 코쿠리코 언덕에서, 2011 언덕 n. = hill Literal title: From the Kokuriko Hill

21. The Wind Rises 비람이 분다, 2013 불다 v. = to blow Literal title: The Wind Blows

22. The Tale of the Princess Kaguya 가구야 공주 이야기, 2013 공주 n. = princess 이야기 n. = story

23. When Marnie Was There 추억의 마니, 2014 Literal title: Marnie From the Memories

If you read until the end, please do share your Ghibli favorites with me! 끝까지 봤으면 제일 좋아하는 지브리 영화를 알려주세요!

[gayarograce]

An Experiment

I was curious, as someone who natively speaks English and has an intermediate level of Spanish knowledge, how easy or difficult other Romance and Germanic languages were to understand. So, I've decided to try to read the introduction sections of the Wikipedia page for the color red (really I just wanted a page with lots of translations) of various different languages.

The languages I tried to understand are:

Spanish (as a baseline)

French

Italian

Portuguese

Romanian

Ladino

Catalan

Dutch

German

Pennsylvania Dutch

Danish

Norwegian

Swedish

Icelandic

Old English

Here were the results (numerical scores are how well I thought I understood it):

Spanish

Pretty easy if you know Spanish. Only word I didn't know and couldn't figure out: asemejarse.

9/10

French

Bit of a step up in difficulty. Plenty of words I was able to recognize, but there were also plenty that I couldn't work out. All in all, I could still get the general gist of what was being said.

7/10

Italian

A significantly shorter passage to try to read in the introduction, but all in all I may have found it actually a bit easier than French. This was probably a mixture of the passage being much shorter and my music knowledge helping me out with words I otherwise wouldn't have known like più and tutti.

8/10

Portuguese

This was certainly a bit harder than Italian. Just like with French, I was still able to recognize enough words to understand the main ideas of the introduction, but a few finer details were lost on me.

7/10

Romanian

I felt so proud of myself for being able to recognize the first ten words, and then from there my comprehension went downhill. I believe Romanian has the least vocab overlap with Spanish out of all the Romance languages, so it's no surprise to me that this was the hardest one so far.

4/10

Ladino

Sometimes also called Judaeo-Spanish. Also sometimes written in the Hebrew script, but the Wiki page for Ladino was written using the Latin alphabet. All in all, I think there were only two words I couldn't figure out. Honestly, it was just a nice change of pace to feel like I actually understood one of these passages again.

9/10

Catalan

What if there were a language which looks like a mix of French and Spanish? It would be this one. However, in terms of difficulty for me to understand, it certainly felt closer to French than it did to Spanish.

7/10

Dutch

The first Germanic language of this little experiment, and allegedly one of the closest to English. I felt like I understood almost all of the first paragraph, but the second was certainly more of a struggle.

8/10

German

Holy shit this may have been the hardest one to understand so far. There were barely any cognates for me to try and use to understand more. Pretty much the only words I got were Rot, the forms of be, and the forms of the.

2/10

Pennsylvania Dutch

The Pennsylvania Dutch Wikipedia page for red in its entirety is as follows: "Rot iss die Fareb 'red.'" Yeah, I understood every word here, but I think it's quite clear that this is not long enough to be remotely useful. There are significantly longer PD Wiki pages, but I've decided to use pages for red in this experiment and no others, so it is what it is.

10/10 (but does this score even count?)

Danish

Another short excerpt with only two short sentences in its introduction. Still, there were a few words I couldn't quite get.

5/10

Norwegian

We've returned to excerpts of reasonable length with this one. Unfortunately, there were still quite a few words I wasn't able to pick up from cognates or context. I feel like I would've had an easier time if I knew Swedish...

3/10

Swedish

My brain short circuited upon coming across the word färgbeteckningssystemet. I figured out that färg means color and systemet probably means system, but I have no clue what the middle is supposed to mean. Anyway, this one was also pretty tricky for me to understand, and I feel like I would've had an easier time if I knew Norwegian...

3/10

Icelandic

I actually understood basically none of this. I take back what I said about German, this one is now by far the hardest one for me to understand. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised considering I'm pretty sure Icelandic is one of the closest surviving relatives to Old Norse and is classified as a conservative language.

1/10

Old English

Another very short article, clocking in at only 7 words: "Rēad is bleoh of blōde and strēaƿberiġum." I understood about half of the words and the links on the Wikipedia page helped me understand the rest, but I don't necessarily count that since I consider that help.

5/10

So what have we learned today? I don't know yet. Someone else (or many someone elses) do this test, too, so we can have more data points.

[fluffyseal322]

my thoughts on "All about lily chou-chou"

I first listened to lily chouchou when trishie sent this to me and ever since i have been in love with some of her songs and other artists like hers. One significant artist I like is Ichiko Aoba. I envision some of my favorite music to portray something Kahono would sing in Black Clover. I fell in love with that character the first moment I saw her.

I discovered that lily chou-chou wasn't just music but she had a movie built around her music and it gave very significant meaning to the soul. The movie talks about the ether a lot in which I did not understand at all in the beginning. I watched the movie for the first time and I did not at all understand a lot of it and I was extremely lost but I was extremely drawn into it. I wanted to immensely understand it. Currently i've been really invested in understanding something beyond the human vessel and discover the depths of the immeasurable soul. It's all so confusing and so much of these experiences I can't put into words... So I am learning to expand my vocab knowledge and hopefully I will find it easier to explain something that requires deeper meaning, hence the drive to learn weighty words.

Watching all about lily chou chou is good for me because I am also interested in learning Japanese so this will be a movie I'd like to watch over and over again until I am able to understand japanese and feel I would come back to this movie in the future and hopefully understand it in a different culture maybe? Anyways, the reason why I like it so much is because even though theres very dark scenes it somehow found beauty in the darkness. I love entertainment like that. It just feels so realistic and romanticizing how life really is. It helps me relate because I deem the world to be highly difficult yet so beautiful and its like, you get what you deserve. How difficult life seems is eventually what life will reward you for with patience. I am proud of every human on earth for being alive today and as much as it's said, I've never really felt it's true meaning until writing about it in this very moment. The movie shows portrays it's energies and mood very well with the colors, the way the camera moves, music tells you a lot and in this movie, instead of it just being some background noise, it uses music as an expression just as realistically humans do. You can tell a lot from a person just by observing what music they've been playing lately. I'd very much recommend this movie and if I were to briefly explain it to another being i'd say:

" the movie will teach you something very important beyond just the human mind and heart. The heart and the brain is already very hard to understand and can be explained by just using todays technology and science... but not the soul. The vagueness of the soul is far more complex than the mind, body, and heart. It realistically portrays a human's personal ether and how it has come to build. I've only watched this once but I'm sure there's way more things I've missed so this is a movie you'd have to watch a couple times to see the bigger meaning. "

Thats it for now... until then "All about lily chou chou", I hope this movie will help me get a better understanding of the book I am currently reading about the soul. ("Soulmates: Honoring the mysteries of love and relationship" by author Thomas Moore) And it is quite the confusing book that I do not want to give up on. Lord please feed me the knowledge to understand the book better and the strength to keep reading it.

૮ ฅ• ﻌ -ฅ ა Signing off on my laptop... see you later Fuwa :3

[the-old-book-town]

Ah, the biggest hurdle in starting a new book is the initial chunk of words I inevitably don't know or have forgotten. There are a lot of words that are used in literature and never or rarely appear in the spoken language (I might know the individual kanji, but the meaning and reading are both guesses). There is genre specific vocab, objects or concepts that I might not have had much exposure to in the past (for example, in one novel, describing an onsen). Oh course, I have a goldfish memory so there's also a subset of words I used to know but forgot.

It does actually get easier and quicker as you get used to the writing and general vocabulary of the particular story. It also happens to be excruciatingly slow for me because I look up every single word I don't know or only vaguely remember. A carry over from the days when I used translating to practice - when reading for pleasure, you can skip an unfamiliar word or two, or a general gist might be sufficient, but if you're going to translate, you need to actually know everything. Well, it's become a baaad habit of mine.

Also, learning is all about exposure. I feel like if I keep skipping over the words I don't know, I won't actually learn them (certainly, I won't know the reading even if I do figure out the meaning).

It's just always so hard making the switch from consuming spoken media to written. I understand so much more than I can read. At the same time, I have a difficult time paying attention to audiobooks (even in English), so that wouldn't really fix my issues (1. it doesn't help me read better, 2. I'll get annoyed that my attention keeps wandering and I have to replay a part or stay lost).

I am enjoying TGCF in Japanese. If I like it enough, I might try to find a physical copy when I go on vacation next year (as if I need more danmei on my shelves lol...I need to rearrange my shelves).

[cptn-m]

The One Piece Rewrite Project volume 2

It's break week, so it's time for volume 2 of the One Piece Rewrite Project. I've found a way to convert both this volume and volume 1 into a useable HTML format that mostly keeps the formatting useable. It's not perfect - I'd love for those indents to be consistent - but it should be a lot more accessible. PDF versions are still available though.

Read volume 2 here!

One of the big challenges for this volume is Buggy. Not only do we have to dance around a lot of nose related puns and sound-alikes that do not translate at all, he has this Japanese catch phrase often translated as flashy, showy or gaudy, that he uses in a bunch of ways that are either awkward or nonsensical when translated directly.

After a lot of thought and some research, I came to "extravaganza." It's a great word for a circus poster or playing up an act, fitting right into Buggy's theming. Can't you just hear a booming ringmaster voice drawing out the x and rolling the r? And it can morph to extravagant, if we need someone to get killed extravagantly, or if he wants to lay claim to all the most extravagant treasures in the world, or if he needs to bemoan 'oh the extravagance of it all' when he feels mistreated.

I also had a fun time researching some historic circus and carny slang to flavour his dialogue with. Flavour can be a fine line to walk when it comes to adapting translations. You don't want to feel like you're taking too much liberty or adding too many of your own ideas, but you also don't want to be so direct that every character has the same vocabulary and voice. I kinda figure choices like these compensate for information being lost in translation. Japanese has synonyms just the same as English does, and synonymous words build up subtly different connotations and feelings over time. How much do we miss out on because two Japanese synonyms have the same direct translation that's used without enough thought to the tone? I don't change the information being presented, just the choice of words that lead that info.

The important stuff in a Luffy bubble has to come through in short, simple and direct terms as much as possible; while Nami's parts should remain casual, but have access to a larger vocab and more complex terms (especially where seafaring and the weather are concerned) so they scan as properly educated relative to each other. And in the same vein, Buggy gets a little bit of carnival slang and turns of phrase that originate in traveling circuses to make sure his words stand out.

Enjoy reading if you feel inclined to check it out.

[brianil]

Open letter to all the i/e SHAN /T

Hello eshan you were my first friend with a unique name, I didn't even know the meaning of your name until now. I don't know why but I called you peasant, well I remember the context was in Social studies class where we learned about opium farming. i don't even know why we broke up, but I always felt you were my friend, Even today I guess. I think I saw you pic doing dj or something , it looks so cool. I hope you are doing amazing in life, I knew you could do so, well it sucks to be not be aware about it but, I am happy for you.

hehe, i wrote a letter earlier too and maybe that's the reason I feel less emotional right now but more in serenity if its the right word. Well, I will always do a good deed in your name on your birthday, and that would be my token of friendship that I owe you or something.

Peace:

Yo, Ishant

you were the second guy i felt conflicted about the name. Name is a unique character so I can't force myself to remember only one eshan in life, ( context : there was disney India show where eshan a school student (hero) a sad story but singer .... ) so this name has lot of history with me, But well you were different, so super cool and I felt its worth to remember your name. Its not like I choose whose to remember or not, sometimes there are names I never wanna remember but they sting like a bee In my memory or just take cache space in my mind.

i feel like my 3 years of graduation went into just knowing names and saying his at least once.

if i could redo my graduation life, i will definetely keep my ears shut from three guys and avoid 2-3 and manage my time around you, katana(saber) and buddha group. Might give a cool group a try too. well that's spent curd something no, spilled milk? anyway, I like the courage, positivity, clarity and wisdom, special point humanity within you. I don't know the vices of yours but I am okay being in ignorance. I definitely won't mind being your friend but I don't know, I feel there is some sort of vibe I feel I have, its better to be someone I know than to be complete stranger but also not too close as best friends.

well this is not really a letter to discuss stuff that has to be explored in therapy but, I hope you stay cool and achieve every damn goal of your life. I will cheer for you from the spectator seat.

till next time i need to increase my vocab adios

hii ishant, i had contact with in brief, you are a writer or at that time, and I asked you to review my poem and you added a word horizon into that and I went with it, well sad story short ... i think I lost your mail id and there was no more contact but well man you were doing great at the time and I hope you continued and that's shall be all.

bye. Brianil

[vermiliien]

just a little rant about writing aha

guys guys guys i wanna quit writing but i also don't wanna stop because i'm scared i'll lose my talent in what i do best and i genuinely love writing, but lately i hardly have any motivation to the point i ask my friends and classmates what to write.

i can't tell if it's writer's block or if i'm losing it because whenever i try to think of something to write, i get a great idea and begin writing but then suddenly stop before i could even complete the sentence.

it's like i'm running out of words to use and the strong spark i once had is quickly wavering either because of a ton of pressure or because of something else. i can't even pick up a pen and paper anymore and start writing. i'm the same as i was before, such an avid writer and always getting an idea from the smallest of things. i want to question myself and have an answer as to why i'm not as creative as before. and i want an honest answer instead of some fantastical lies that would make me feel better about myself.

i have a huge vocabulary (i forgot the majority of the words so i just google up other synonyms) and seeing people with better vocab kinda makes me jealous idk because i've always thought i was pretty good at writing myself.

like for example, when my classmates and i were given a project about making your own short story. i got so genuinely excited because i wanted to show my classmates my talent and while making our stories, my friend showed me her story.

now, she claims to not be good at writing but when i saw how she wrote hers, i felt lost. defeated. i felt inferior. she said that she used the words from ao3 but i was having a hard time believing her because who in god's name would know what this or that word meant without googling it up to refresh your memory?

i suddenly felt not talented or whatever and that's probably when my spark started to slowly die down. of course, i still get a little excited when doing story writing projects, but it just doesn't feel the same anymore, especially now that i know that someone is better than me.

it's probably my inflated ego (i don't even know if i have an ego) because when i first started writing as a hobby, i'd always show my parents first because i looked for approval and appreciation from them. when they showed genuine interest and approval, i was happy and decided to continue writing.

i read several books, watched a couple of videos and all that to try and improve my skills, and they did improve, although significantly. i do practice every once in a while because school gets in the way, and i thought i was improving slowly but steadily.

but jealousy is an absolutely terrible emotion and i hate it. when i saw writers my age or younger and they're so much better and are already making a profit by publishing books, i get so frustrated. i know that we usually have to start off small but i'm not an exactly patient person and i want to get things fast.

i'm probably the reason why i'm losing motivation cause i don't even try. i don't try hard enough to improve and i don't try hard enough to find any time to practice, then just quit.