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snowberrydream · 2 years ago

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Stoma gave Käärijä a new life - english translation of an interview for Finnilco ry 8.5.2023

Translator’s note:

If you’ve been wondering about that scar on Finland’s favorite green boi’s belly …this is about that. (Because why be cha cha cha when you can be sad sad sad and read about how he was like a week away from death at one point in his life. Though I guess it kinda fits the post-ESC depression, really)

Okay, now some actual notes about the text. So, Finnilco is a Finnish organisation for patients with stomas and the like, so the interview talks a lot about medical stuff and is clearly geared towards people with similar health issues. It might not be as ”entertaining” as all the other stuff you might’ve seen about him recently, but I recommend reading it anyways, as I feel it gives a lot of insight to who Käärijä is as a person. It hasn’t always been just crazy and party for him.

There is a lot of medical vocabulary in this, and I’ve done some intense googling and wikipedia-ing to figure out what the correct terms are, but I can only hope they are right. Trying to understand whether things are synonymous with each other or completely different things is kinda hard when you have zero knowledge about the subject. I deeply apologize for any mistakes that might occur.

I’ve also done some minor tweaks to the text (like cut down on repeating his last name in nearly every sentence) for the sake of easier reading, as the style of it is quite academic and ”dry”, but overall I’ve kept as close to the original as I could.

link to the original finnish interview:https://www.finnilco.fi/post/avanne-antoi-k%C3%A4%C3%A4rij%C3%A4lle-uuden-el%C3%A4m%C3%A4n

***

Jere Pöyhönen, known by his artist name Käärijä, is the finnish representative in the Eurovision 2023 Song Contest. The artist, known for his style and energetic live-performances, had his youth shadowed by serious health issues, to which he even almost lost his life.

By his own words Pöyhönen is still just a normal guy. Vantaa-born Pöyhönen was diagnosed with colitis ulcerosa, a type of imflammatory bowel disease, when he was young. As the disease got worse, he had to eventually have an emergency surgery, where he got a temporary stoma. Later the stoma was removed and replaced with a J-pouch (ileo-anal pouch), a reservoir pouch formed from the end of his small intestine. Currently in good health, he wants to be open about his disease so that he could offer peer support to others battling with the same issues.

- I am truly fine with this, I am not ashamed about it, on the contrary, I want to tell about this to everyone. I hope that by sharing my experience I could help someone else, Pöyhönen says with a smile.

Symptoms lead to an emergency operation

When Pöyhönen was at ninth grade, he was diagnosed with rectal inflammation. The inflammation was treated with suppository and oral medication, and it got better. When he was 18, the symptoms returned. For a year he was on an elimination diet that kept the inflammation under control, but eventually his condition got worse again, and in the end his entire colon got inflamed. Several treatments were attempted, but none worked. At the worst point Pöyhönen weighed only 49 kg, and his hemoglobin was swaying between 54-56.

- I was still somewhat right in the head, though I was feeling dizzy and kept bumping into bathroom doors. It was quite a rough time in every way, he reminisces. He defecated blood multiple times a day and was practically bedridden, his parents had to feed him. But nothing seemed to help. Pöyhönen remembers how his mother was crying by his bedside. Back then he had blood tests done regularly to control his condition, and after one time he got a call and was told that his hemoglobin was so low that he needed to be treated urgently. After the call his dad went to start the car and drove him straight to the hospital.

At the hospital, an emergency surgery awaited. While waiting for his turn he wondered about what would happen to him in the surgery, afraid that he’d need a stoma. At the same time he thought that the most important thing was to stay alive.

- Do whatever you have to, as long as I’ll get better, he remembers thinking before going in. A stoma had been suggested to him already before, but until then he hadn’t been able to accept it and had tried to manage by other means. Afterwards he has been thinking that the fear was due to the issue being so unknown. He didn’t know much about stomas and had never seen anyone with one.

- It was a tough spot. I wondered how the stoma would affect my life and me as a person. How would I look like, what would happen to my sexuality. Those kind of things scared me the most about it, he recalls.

Life as a young person with a stoma

The first thing he did after waking from the surgery was feeling his stomach and the collection bag.

- It was a weird feeling, confusing. But at the same time I felt just immense calmness. The root of the problem, the inflamed colon had been removed entirely. Confusion soon turned into acceptance.

- I wasn’t sad about it for that long, on the contrary. When it sank in that I was still alive, the stoma felt like a pretty small thing, considering everything. It was a happy thing that I had it.

Despite feeling thankful about the stoma, it was still a shock at the beginning.

- When I was taken to get a shower for the first time and I saw it, I nearly fainted, he laughs.

The emergency surgery was lifesaving for Pöyhönen. if it hadn’t been done, the inflammation could’ve spread from his bowel to the rest of the body within weeks, or even days. So Pöyhönen came really close to death, but thanks to the stoma he got to continue living.

– Getting the stoma gave me a second chance. A chance that not everyone gets to have. But if they get it, they should take the offer with a smile.

Pöyhönen tells that he got used to living with the stoma quite quickly. But it required him to adjust his own attitude – he had to accept the situation as it was. Luckily he was able to enjoy life even with the stoma

- When I had it, I did all the same stuff as other people. I did sports, went to restaurants, I truly lived a really ordinary life.

Of course he faced also some difficult times. At the time 18 years old Pöyhönen was in a relationship, and he tells that at first things relating to sexuality felt difficult.

- It was indeed nerve-racking. Overall, you are only starting to try out stuff at that age, and then there is the stoma on top of it all.

But one thing was clear for him already at the time:

- If the other party in the relationship doesn’t accept your situation or the stoma, then that person isn’t worthy of you.

From stoma to J-pouch

Pöyhönen lived with the stoma for five months until it was replaced with a j-pouch. In the beginning the pouch got clogged, but he didn’t tell about it right away. He was fed up with spending his time in a hospital and wanted to live a normal life. When he finally told about the clogging, the issue was fixed and the difficulties eased.

- I’ve done all the normal stuff. I’ve travelled around the world, done and eaten the same things as everyone else.

Pöyhönen has had the j-pouch for almost eight years now. He hasn’t had any serious complications, but occasionally there’s been some milder issues.

- Sometimes there’s been minor inflammation or bleeding. Once I went to have an endoscopy after there was more blood and I got frightened. Old fears about how things were in the past rose to the surface, Pöyhönen tells.

Overall he is feeling positive about everything.

– At the moment I’m really contented with my situation, and I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t even want that colon back, as this all has become a part of my identity, he says.

Music as a part of life

Music has always meant a lot for Jere Pöyhönen. Yet it wasn’t always obvious that it would turn into a career.

While spending his time in hospitals, listening to music comforted him and gave him hope. Laying in a hospital bed with an IV drip next to him, Pöyhönen also wrote his own songs. If other patients wondered about his doings, he simply answered that he was making music.

During his time in hospital he realized that life might be short. He decided that if he’d be alive and healthy again after the emergency surgery, he’d go and try doing music for real and with everything he had. Of course, at the time he had no idea how far that decision would eventually bring him.

- My values became clearer there in the hospital. I realized what are the things I love and what is truly important for me. One of those things is music, and doing that was what I set my mind on to.

Pöyhönen tells that he especially enjoys doing live shows, because then he gets to entertain people. He feels he is at his best while performing.

Daily life of an artist

Nowadays health issues don’t cause much trouble in Pöyhönen’s everyday life as an artist, but he still needs to take good care of his body. At gigs he must pay extra attention to what he drinks and eats, when and how much. He is sweating a lot while performing on stage, and to balance that he drinks salt/mineral water. The excitement also affects his bodily functions, and during stressful moments he’ll need to use the bathroom more often. But he tells that he doesn’t really get nervous about doing gigs anymore.

However, the approaching Eurovision song contest is a kind of gig he has never experienced before. The event is big and the place as well as the proceedings are all new to him. Despite all that, Pöyhönen seems trustful.

- I don’t know how it is going to be like in there, but I don’t think I’ll have any problems. His confidence relies both on his general attitude and that over the years he has learned to know the way his body functions quite precisely. He knows when his energy levels are getting low and when he needs to drink or eat.

Family’s support has been important

When Pöyhönen was sick, the support from his family was what helped him to keep going. Thanks to his family he has always felt valued and loved.

– The contribution from my parents has been enormous. I will never be able to repay their efforts, other than by being alive.

Pöyhönen tells how his parents gave him their full support while he was sick.

- When I first got diagnosed with the rectal inflammation, they wanted to figure out what could cause it right away. They delved deep into the matter, made phone calls and searched for information from the internet.

His parents drove him to his tests and put their time and money into finding out what was going on. The financial support made it possible that he could have all the different tests done despite them costing a lot.

Stories from peers bring hope

Though his family and friends have been there for him, they haven’t been able to offer him peer support. When he was sick, Pöyhönen did sometimes feel very alone with his issue.

- I didn’t know anyone else in a similar situation as myself. I didn’t get to talk face to face with peers, he says. He did search for peer stories from internet, but people online were usually anonymous, and though he gained information through it, he was longing for human connection and faces to relate to. Lucky for him, an acquaintance of his was in the hospital at the same time as him due to a similar issue. They became friends and messaged daily through Facebook, asking each other about the number of times they went to bathroom and the like.

Pöyhönen says that those kind of discussions with a peer were a big help. It was important to hear that someone else was experiencing similar things as him. An ice hockey player Teemu Ramstedt gave him another face to relate to.

– It gave me lot of faith to see someone else with the same stuff going on as me. That an athlete, a hockey player, had been dealing with the same issues, he tells.

Attitude and dreams helping to go forward

While being sick Pöyhönen gained strength from daydreaming and steering his thoughts towards future.

- I kept thinking that at some point I’ll have good moments with my family and friends again. That one day I’ll be healthy and able to feel happy about everything. In the end it was quite simple things that helped, and also humor helped to get through it all.

Pöyhönen tells that he has been a joker since he was young, and when he was unwell, he also used humor to deal with the difficult things. But there was also something else hidden underneath the jokes.

- Maybe all the joking was also a survival tactic. A way to escape from it all. In the beginning I didn’t want to accept the reality, even though I tried to convince myself that I had done so.

Pöyhönen tells that the songs he used to listen to while in hospital were difficult to listen to after he got out of there. Also some familiar places would bring up old memories in an unpleasant way.

But in the end, time heals, and years later those same songs are back on his regular playlist. Now they just uplift his mood and push him forward.

It’s worth it to open up

When Pöyhönen was sick, he didn’t always tell about his symptoms to his parents or the hospital staff right away. One reason that he mentions was shame. At first he himself didn’t want to believe it to be real when he first saw blood down in the toilet.

- But when it happened again, I realized that this might not be something that would just go away. That it might be something more serious that should be taken care of, he recalls.

And to his younger self, or someone else in a similar situation he would give the advice that you should be open about your problems. He also encourages to try and find some peer support, as he himself was left without it for the most part. Though the bit he did get was a big relieving factor..

– When a person suffers from an illness, the most important thing really is that you are mentally in a good condition. If you are feeling down, the healing process will be really hard, he points out.

At the moment he dreams about that he and the people closest to him would stay as healthy as possible. He wishes that he would get to do things he enjoys in his life and to spend time with the people that are important to him.

To the readers of Finnilco he sends the following message:

– Go forward with humility, but don’t be too meek either. Love yourself, your body and mind. Be well, and if problems arise, react to them right away. Enjoy life and do things that make you happy.

***

#käärijä #eurovision #eurovision 2023 #cha cha cha #interview #translation #ulcerative colitis #inflammatory bowel disease #stoma #it's a bit sad read but also comforting #he sounds so nice and so does his famiily

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pa1nkill3r · 9 months ago

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Day 2,557 [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x GN!Reader

[Summary:] A boy comes into the joke shop with his mother; It felt all too weird for the one-eared owner to feel so at ease, something he never felt for the past 7 years.

[Warnings:] angst, sad, major character death (not Fred obv), reincarnation, grief, mourning, swearing

[a/n:] Scrolling through facebook and getting videos of children talking about their past lives really intrigued me. This is my first fic and it might be bad so please don’t bully me, I’m sensitive <3 (jkjk but I am open for constructive criticism!)

[a/n; March 2024] I wrote this draft back in 2021 or 2022 I believe, waiting desperately for the opportunity to finish and post this. That time never came. Now, 2 or 3 years later, I gravely admire my vocabulary, creativity, and passion for writing back then. Honestly speaking, moving schools killed my spark and I am desperate to get it back. For now, I am working on reviving that spark within me by going back to where I started. Even though the HP fandom isn't as active as it used to be, I would still like to share this piece I made because I am so, so proud of my younger self.

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There was something about Y/N wearing white that George loved so much. He always got so giddy and cute which in turn made their eyes roll and mouth grin.

The way Y/N looked sitting at the Great Hall with their white sleeves rolled to their elbows, one hand under their chin and the other twirling a spoon while their eyes dragged along their charms textbook, cramming in as much information as they could for the upcoming test that afternoon.

Or that time at the Yule Ball when they thought it’d be funny to wear an all white ensemble because: “What?...I wanted to feel like a bride at their wedding.” whilst having the best night with George, their “groom”.

Even small moments like when they would steal a shirt from George’s drawer and wear it to sleep. He loved every single bit of it, even if it cost him many shirts.

He truly never got enough of them wearing white. So seeing them in a casket wearing that same color 7 years ago, looking so peaceful and so… dead. That killed him. That’s the last time he will see them in white; That’s the last time he’s going to see them at all.

That was the last time he could actually feel their hand rather than just dried oil on linen canvas, framed in oak and hung atop his bed. How he wished their eyes could roll one more time at how stupidly in love their boyfriend is with them, especially in white.

Voldemort’s reign of terror had ended, as well as the lives of many others, and maybe even George. They were a horcrux he never made, his life force created by deep love and affection rather than the hunger for immortality.

It never got easier even after 7 years, he simply just got used to it.

He got used to the feeling of an empty bed. He got used to gripping onto a cold body pillow instead of a warm figure and a heartbeat with Y/H/C hair disturbing his lips. He got used to counting the days since their death which gravely disturbed Fred, his twin. He got used to waking up everyday and checked off a box from the calendar with an absurd amount of numbers on it.

Admittedly he is doing better than he did 7 years ago. No more jumping from every small sound and drawing out his wand in the middle of the night. No more vivid dreams of several dead bodies laid across the Great Hall. No more crying himself to sleep. No more missed dinners. No more grieving.

He’s longed for them longer than he has actually been with them. But his love never faltered. Not once.

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Day 2,557

It's now exactly 7 years since the Battle of Hogwarts. And in a month it would be the 7th anniversary of his obituary for Y/N on the Daily Prophet, a suggestion made by Percy to try and help his grieving brother. It helped, but not really.

The small May 2nd, 2005 box wrote “Baby Vic’s Birthday!” in bold red ink. George moved the yellow paper star that stuck gently onto the calendar with paper tape as Fred walked into his room. Envelope in his hands, bread between his teeth, and a beautiful haughty looking owl on his shoulder.

“Fun to finally see you up, Georgie!” Fred greeted sarcastically as George hummed in response. “Bill just sent an owl that little Vicky’s turning 5!"

"That is usually how birthdays work, Freddie." George joked, grabbing his wand and with a flick, his bed is magically fixed. "I'm not a dumbass, you know?" Fred chuckled lightly as he handed George the letter from Bill and Fleur, "They're hosting a party for her at the Burrow at 5."

He took the piece of parchment and flattened it by his desk before pulling it closer to his face, his back mindlessly pinning itself to the wall.

Dear Fred and George,

Bill here, As you should know, it's baby Victoire's 5th birthday today and we would really like love to have you two come by the Burrow at 5 pm.

Vic really misses you both. Uncle George this, Uncle Fred that. She’s going to be like you two one day, I’m tellin’ ya. She loves listening to stories you tell her, especially the ones about Y/N and Tonks. She thinks that they’re the coolest people ever and that she wished she could meet them. I simply told her that one day she would, but it’ll be far far away from now.

Hope to see you later! Please owl back immediately, Vic’s got Ginny’s temper.

xx Bill

“I’ve already owled them my ‘happy birthday’ letter before Chouette came.” Chouette, the owl cooed at the mention of her name. Slightly shuffling her feathers therefore lightly tickling Fred's neck, making him shiver. The haughty owl flew from Fred's shoulder to George's making the younger twin chuckle.

"Seems like Chouette is telling you to take a bath, mate." George laughed as the back of Fred's hand flew to his forehead. "I got us crepes and bread for breakfast! And you go on and call me stinky?" Fred exclaimed dramatically.

"How 'bout you be a dear and write to Bill and Fleur that we are going to Vic's party, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that." George agreed, taking out a roll of parchment from his desk drawer as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. "While I eat my breakfast and write this, will you be a dear and take a bath!" Fred cackled at his younger brother's statement. Though in a bit the sound of water dropping down the shower head echoed through the small flat above the shop.

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School owls poured in as numerous Hogwarts students wanted to take advantage of the annual “54% off ‘End of War’ sale” at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes held in memory of the fallen 50. Because in Fred and George’s philosophy, “...We might not be able to save them, but they can save our customers over 50% off of all our products!”

It seemed insensitive but it’s the thought that counts. They wanted to make sure that their passing didn’t go to waste, even if it is counted as a discount to the famous Diagon Alley shop.

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were rather busy picking up and shipping out their joke products, sending it to the owls who were perched up in a little area at the back of the store, nibbling on insects Verity; a part of their staff had handed them before sending them back to the school her bosses previously dropped out of.

It was nearing lunch time when everyone wearing magenta robes stocked up the shelves again, having been sending out owls since 8 in the morning when they heard a clanging from the front doors, signaling that a customer had finally came; A middle aged woman looked starstruck whilst holding onto a young boy that’s slowly getting out of her grip, having the same eagerness as his mother.

It wasn’t unusual for customers to react this way coming into the Weasley’s joke shop. The boy’s eyes sparkled while the mother looked in admiration. The mother crouched down to hold onto her son, keeping him from running while his mouth spilled with words.

“Mum, we have to get something for Mia!” the boy cried out eagerly, eyes darting towards every single corner of the store. George’s mouth upturned into a sloppy grin whilst listening to the boy.

“Marty, that’s sweet of you, but we already got the quill she wanted.” The mother said quietly, running her hands over the boy’s shoulders, easing it. “And it’s your birthday...” George didn’t know what came after that as he took the chance and walked towards the small family with a big smile on his face, quickly followed by Fred.

“Heard it’s a little man’s birthday.” inclined George, hands in his pockets and head down turned. The mother looked up and stood from her spot, giggling slightly as she kept a hold of her son’s shoulders. “What’s your name?” he asked, now being the one to crouch down in front of the boy.

The boy tilted his head to the side, eyes slightly strained. He looked both confused and hyper focused at the same moment. Though weird, George thought nothing of it. After all, he was a kid, the man he’s looking at has one ear, and the hyperfixation was quickly ended by the slight shake of his shoulders. The mother looked down at her son, silently telling him to introduce himself. And so he did.

"I'm Martin! I turn 6 today!" the boy said enthusiastically,bringing a smile on George's face. Being around Martin felt odd, it felt so unapologetically peaceful and rather… familiar.

"SIX?!" Fred loudly piped in. "Well now that's big, little man!"

The mother was slightly startled by the appearance of the ginger's twin, though the same cannot be said about Martin who simply smiled absentmindedly.

"I knew you before." said Martin, eyes targeting the younger twin. George smiled and kept close to the boy, keeping the conversation going. "Really?" he asked with vivid curiosity, he did not recognise the boy or his mother but fueling a child's imagination wouldn't hurt anyone.

"How?" piped in Fred, now also crouching beside his twin, "And why just him?" he asked comedically, pointing to his brother.

"Since we were 11." Answered Martin with no signs of struggle on his face. The red haired owners looked at each other, though more in disbelief than in confusion.

"Thought you said you were 6, Martin?" George asked with a kind look on his face. The boy’s mother shook her son’s shoulder harder than she did the past few times, mumbling “Marty, what did I tell you?” in tired disbelief.

“M’sorry mum.” Martin said with a pinch of sincerity before turning back to face the bigger man in front of him. “I was 20 before I became 6.” “Marty.”

Chilling, the owners thought. As they were 20 at the time of the battle of Hogwarts.

“I’m so sorry Mr.--”

“Weasley.” Fred replied as the confusion simmered throughout his twin brother. “S’really nothing to worry about Mrs.--?”

“Edevane. But I truly am sorry, he’s just a very imaginative little kid. Always has stories of his quote-unquote ‘past life’.“ she explained, making the kid become a bit mad. “But mum, it’s true!-”

“Marty, how about we look around the store, alright? Mr. and Mr. Weasley could show us around perhaps?” Mrs. Edevane hinted to the twin owners, relief gracing their legs as they were now able to stand on their feet.

“Yes, we can certainly do that! Come along Marty, tell us more about this ‘past life’ of yours.” Fred’s arm wrapped around the small boy’s shoulders, showing him around the color filled shop. “Sorry about that Mrs. Edevane.” he added mischievously, “Here at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, we like to encourage creativity and imagination.”

“--As it is the reason we got here.” George finished, giving Mrs. Edevane a kind smile as they start roaming around the shop. “Uhh. Mr. Weasley.” Her fingers tapped onto George’s shoulder. His head whipped around and mouth about to open when suddenly the 6 year old spoke; “Mum, Mr. Weasley’s name is George. This one’s Fred.”

The utter shock that went through the twin wizards was clear as day. No where in the shop did it say the owner’s names. Even their name tags; The little badge pinned on their suits merely wrote ‘Mr. Weasley’. Fred, being the initiator that he is, leaned forward. “Now how can you be so sure, Marty?” he teased, “What if I tell you that you’re wrong?”

Martin simply smiled, angling his head a bit to the side again. “Mr. George has a longer face, down turned eyes and eyebrows, he’s a bit taller than you, Mr. Fred. You have a squarer face and shorter features than him.” he explained smoothly and innocently. As if it’s something he’s observed over the course of his whole life.

“Ma��am, I’m afraid your son’s a genius.” George joked, even if he’s visibly disturbed, though nonetheless intrigued. Nobody has ever differentiated them this way, even their own mother. Though one person did. The one he cherished most. The mother smiled, holding onto her son once again.

“I’m no genius.” Martin spoke, a shy smile gracing his small little lips, so identical to the person’s portrait above George’s bed. He even said their typical response to their mind being praised.

“-- I just quietly observe.”

Martin spoke but George merely whispered. A shiver ran through his spine, heart pumping, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. It could’ve all been a coincidence. One big coincidence served on a silver platter, garnished with confusion and terrifying accuracy.

“Mr. Weasley?”

He snapped back, giving the woman a sign to continue. “Uh, I just wanted to ask... err. Why that big of a discount? Why is it 54% off of everything? That doesn’t really sound like a good marketing strategy, doesn’t it?” She asked curiously.

“Well Mrs. Edevane.” George started, seeing as Fred and little Martin were still going around the shop. “Remember the last wizarding war?” Mrs. Edevane shook her head. His smile faltered a bit but still kept his composure. “We’re, what you call it? Muggle--born?” Her eyebrows furrowed while her teeth sinked into her bottom lip. “Well, my daughter... err. Just started her first year and that McGonagall woman said that she’s a ‘muggleborn’.”

They truly didn’t know who they are.

“-- What I’m trying to say, Mr. Weasley, is that we, or at least I, am not magical. Nor is my husband.” He nodded, breathed in a bit as his mind tried to ease itself. The boy couldn’t have known who he is as they wouldn’t have known anything about the prophet, or could they?

“Well, Mrs. Edevane. 7 years ago at this date. The second wizarding war has ended. My brother-in-law defeated... him.” It was still hard to say his name, even years later. “V-Voldemort.”

She looked curious but silently let him continue. “Uh, remember when. Uh-uhm that bridge collapsed in muggle london? 7-8 years ago? A big hurricane happened? When a lot died like-” It was hard to explain. Truly. It was hard to live through it again.

“Like that Emmeline Vance lady?”

“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed. “It was all caused by him. By wizards! Dark wizards!” Her previously bright face now looked horror struck. It was all making sense. “Seven years ago, this day. Everything ended at Hogwarts. As well as the lives of 54 on our side.” He wanted to mention one very special loss, but figured that she doesn’t need to know about it. She was just a muggle mother who brought her son birthday shopping. “We wanted to commemorate them.”

A sincere look graced upon her face, out of pity. “Is there any chance that you’ve seen anything from the ‘Daily Prophet’, Mrs. Edevane? Or your son?” He asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She shook her head, now gracing a look with pure confusion. “A-Anything. Like a paper? A newspaper with moving photographs? Or maybe a-a Quibbler?”

She shook her head. “Why’re you asking Mr. Weasley?” His mouth opened, about to burst out his concerns and held in grief to a complete stranger when; “George!”

It was Fred, hand resting on his twin’s shoulder as the six year old boy beside him just stood. “-- Can I talk to you? I need to talk to you.” He said, fright gracing his features and panic in his voice.

George nodded, bidding a quick goodbye to the mother and son who came in a few moments ago and calling for one of their faculty to give them the tour they wanted.

Fred pulled his twin to an empty corner of the shop. Sound muffled by the stacks of products ranging from fireworks to extendable ears. “That boy George.” Fred panted. Voice shaking. “He knows too much. Is there a chance that you put anything about how Y/N saved me?”

“Briefly. Why?” His heart was about to pop out of his chest at any moment. Any moment now his heart would be a new WWW product.

“He explained everything! Everything George! Knew things that he shouldn’t have!” Fred said, terrified. “What did he say?” asked George. Croaking out whatever’s left in his heaving lungs.

“He said that he saved me. Me and Percy! From the explosion! I didn’t think much of it at first, George! I knew that you wrote that in their obituary. But he just kept going.” Frightened. They were both frightened. “Everything they did. He knew.”

“How accurate was he?”

“Very. George. Disturbingly accurate.” Back straightened and composed, Fred stood back, eyes darting back and forth from his brother to the entrance of the shop. “He knew that they transfigured the rubble to sand. He knew that they cast that ring of fire shit they did. The diabolica thing to ward off the death eaters? Yeah. He named the spell. HE NAMED THE SPELL, GEORGE!”

“I heard you the first time!” George yelled back. Disturbed, yet he felt at peace. He could have the last goodbye he’s always wanted. “We need to talk to the boy, Fred.”

His twin nodded fervently, about to walk away from the corner when he felt an arm tug on his elbow. “Oi, how can we do it without worrying the mother?”

“Give whatever he wants for free. It’s his birthday after all. Now come on!”

╰┈➤✎*+:｡.｡⋆·˚ ༘ **ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #fred and george #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley angst #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley one shot #fred weasley #bill weasley #fleur delacour #ginny weasley

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maryonaccross · 1 year ago

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I want to dedicate this post to the top five most brain dead, brain cell killing lines TB characters have said in season one that meant literally nothing coming from the characters that said them and have been interpreted as “wow slay they’re so smart” moments by their fans for reasons that are beyond me. The vast majority of them don’t even require an explanation.

First up we have:

“And yet you toil still in service to men” - Rhaenys Targaryen

(wow, we all lost a lot of respect for you there Rhaenys’. The second hand embarrassment was very uncomfortable)

Followed closely by:

“ And now they see you as you are” -Rhaenyra Targaryen

again, meant absolutely nothing

“ that whore of a queen killed my brother and stole his throne”- Daemon Targaryen

Daemon, sweetie, do you need a kitkat? Are you ok? What on earth are you even alluding to???? Is your vocabulary so limited that you cannot come up with a word other than whore to describe women you don’t like??

Next up we have:

“ it doesn’t matter what they want” -Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra you feminist girlboss queen.

And:

“ You are the dragon, your word is law”- Daemon Targaryen

lmao, and you wonder why he couldn’t hold a single small council position? This is exactly where the intellectual gap between him and Otto becomes a very apparent. I’m not an Otto fan but he is a person who seriously understands politics and achieved something in life while Daemon is a man child nepobaby that failed at every responsibility was assigned to him ( organizing a police brutality event and running amok on civilians being one example of that )

I’m serious, these two, Daemon and Rhaenyra, are the ones that are going to bring back the glory of old Valyria?

(Adding to that, not really a sixth thing because it hasn’t been hyped by TB fans as much as the others but remember Jace also saying “ it doesn’t matter what they think” in regards to him and his brothers being bastards. People’s prince…? I’d rethink that )

I swear to God, anytime I see edits starting with any of these lines I burst out laughing.

It’s honestly sad to think about how house of the dragon is a real show that cost a hell of a lot of money to make. The actors are fantastic and the costume designers, set designers etc. are doing a really good job but like… actual writers actually sat down and wrote that script and these lines. And they didn’t even have that much to do considering they had the book as source material so they didn’t come up with any of the major plot points. I might make a separate post about this but all they had to do was alter a few characters if they want to and give them believable motivations. And I cannot think of a single character in this show that has actual reasons to be doing what they are doing and whose plans and motivations stay consistent throughout the show (take Rhaenyra, Alicent, and the Velaryons for example)

#pro team green #anti team black #anti team black stans #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #pro alicent hightower #anti viserys i targaryen #anti Jacerys Velaryon

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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More Than It Seams (Chapter 3)

summary: you're a hero costume tech working for one of the biggest fashion companies in quirk society, and the days until the most important fashion event of the year are dwindling fast. if you weren't stressed enough, a certain half-and-half hero keeps appearing with rips in his suit. (pro!todoroki x reader)

word count: 3k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of needles, probably inaccurate fashion design vocabulary, strangers to lovers, no specified pronouns for reader, mentions of food/eating, mention of character death/disappearance, arguing, working to exhaustion, hurt/comfort to angst

note: ohoho rising action + sassy shoto

likes/reblogs/feedback are appreciated :)

You spend the weekend texting back and forth with Shoto, with most of the conversation revolving around his Hero Ball appearance. You’d send a design sketched on a coffee shop napkin or an embroidery swatch held up to the light of your apartment with your pajama-clad roommate in the background; initially, he would respond with several messages detailing his thoughts on your idea, but it soon devolved into a one-word acknowledgment followed by a picture of a cat he had seen on patrol, or a flowerbed he found pretty. Eventually, your text chains stopped becoming work-related altogether, replaced by “Look at this cat,” “Have you eaten yet?” and “Let me know when you’re home safe,” and you weren’t sure who’d sent what message first. To date, one of your favorite interactions with him began with a message reading “Can I call you real quick? I have an important question.” Standing in the kitchen prepping dinner, you tuck the phone between your shoulder and your ear.

“Shoto?”

“Hi,” he said softly. It sounded like he was smiling, and imagining the little quirk in the corner of his mouth made your heart feel light.

“What’s going on? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine, I promise. Do you know anything about cats?”

You leaned against the counter, throwing a hand towel over your shoulder as you reached for a spice from the top cabinet. “I mean, my roommate has one, but I don’t take care of it much. Why?”

“There’s a stray outside your office. It looks sad.”

“Oh, poor baby. Does it have a tag?”

There was a slight crunching noise on Shoto’s end and you held back a chuckle as you heard him whisper gentle encouragement for the cat to come closer. “Uh, no. No tag.”

“Okay, do you think you could call someone to bring it somewhere safe, then?”

“Why do you think I called you?” You blinked, dumbfounded. He wanted you to take care of the cat? The realization must have dawned on him at the same time it did for you. “Actually, I’m not sure why I called you.” You couldn’t help laughing as you imagined the puzzled look on his face, head tilted and staring down at some random cat in the alley by your building. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I don’t know why I–” The phone nearly drops from your grip as you panic to keep him on the line.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s alright. I like listening to your voice.” The last part slips out before you could stop it, and smug pride radiated from the other side of the phone. “Shut up.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

He gives you that choked laugh and you grin like an idiot, covering your face even though you’re the only one home. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I can hear your stupid smirk.”

“Would you prefer to continue listening to my pleasing voice, then?” He must have left the cat by your office, as the phone picked up a noise that sounded like the blowing wind. You figured he was probably heading home for the night or grabbing dinner.

“I’d prefer you get your head out of your ass and answer my question from earlier,” you quip, pulling a knife from the block and chopping carrots into small chunks.

There’s a moment of silence from Shoto, and you worry that your service is starting to glitch out. “What was the question?”

“If you could come in Monday afternoon so I can measure you real quick for your Hero Ball suit.”

“Does Monday at 1:00 work?”

“Sure, but if I can ask, why so late? You tend to show up around 11:30.”

Oh, he was definitely getting a big ego now. “Do you pay attention to the exact time I arrive?” The chopped carrots aggressively plop into the pot as you all but throw them in at Shoto’s sass.

“Only because you appear at the same time on the dot, like some weirdly programmed cyborg.”

“I assure you I am not a cyborg. But I would like to take you to lunch again on Monday, the same place as Friday.”

“Is that gonna be the first date, then?” Waves of heat brush against your hands as you stir the pot with a wooden spoon.

“Absolutely not. It’s another–”

“Business meeting. Got it.” The spoon clanks against the edge of the pot as you rid it of excess sauce.

“Are you cooking?”

“Mhmm.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“My roommate got these, like, free instant curry packets from work, so I’m trying one of those tonight.”

“Huh. Sounds…interesting.” Your face is hit with hot steam as you pop open the lid to the rice cooker and scoop yourself a serving.

“Are you making fun of me for eating junk food, Shoto?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Responding with ‘interesting’ is a kind way of telling me you don’t approve of my meal choice.”

“Well, that I could have just told you outright.”

“Go away and leave me to my curry.”

“Don’t you mean your processed powder with enough fat to warm the North Pole?”

“I didn’t ask for your sass tonight, Todoroki.” A low hum is all you hear from the other end, and you smirk at your temporary victory of catching Shoto off-guard. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have some very pressing streaming service matters to attend to.”

“For your sake, I hope it tastes good.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You roll your eyes and hang up on him, snuggling into your couch and fighting down the overwhelmingly happy feelings in your chest.

Monday morning, the elevator doors ding at 11:30 exactly, and you can’t help but raise your eyebrows in amusement at him. He’d stopped bringing in parts of his suit for you to fix, and your staff came to expect the sound of the elevator every day like it was part of their routine too. The doors would sound, and your designer would swear under his breath, remarking how late in the morning it was already without looking at the clock.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, just give me one sec. Need to finish this panel.” You glance up at him briefly with an excited look in your eye as you nod over to the sketch of his trenchcoat. Without any direction, his long fingers stretch themselves next to yours as he holds down the template panel you’d been cutting into the sleek black base fabric. Careful to account for seam allowance, you finish the large panel that would come to be the back of the coat.

Lunch is just as easy and comfortable as it was on Friday, and you spend the entire time talking about mundane things that had no connection to your work. It was nice, spending time with him and being allowed to talk about other things besides work. You’d told him how your roommate was speechless that he’d taken you to lunch, and he needlessly corrected you when she said you’d gone on a date with a pro hero.

“I know you don’t consider it a date, but everyone else in society would beg to differ.”

“Let them beg, then. I’m still right.” He sat back and crossed his arms, and it took all your willpower not to stare at the corded muscle pressing out from beneath his suit.

It was much harder, however, a few hours later when you had to run measuring tape on them, close enough to Shoto to smell his rich cologne. He’d agreed to help you keep track of the measurements so you didn’t need to keep running back and forth to your pen and paper. A measurement would come out of your mouth and be repeated like a broken record by Shoto until you’d successfully scribbled it on a Post-It.

All was going well until you had to measure the length from one shoulder to the other. He’d been the model of a perfect listener up until that point, when you were eye-to-eye and close enough to feel each other’s breath. You stutter out some number in inches and briskly walk over to your Post-It note, only to find Shoto frozen and slightly pinker around his high carved cheekbones.

“Shoto? Did you hear me?”

“What? Sorry, I was…distracted.” You huff out a sigh and stand near him again, focusing on trying to read the number ticks and ignoring the way Shoto’s breath had sped up when you were nearer. He was so warm, and the muscle beneath your fingers was so sturdy that you wanted to bite it. You blinked the thought from your mind, trying not to think about being in Shoto’s proximity like this all the time. He wasn’t helping much, either. Unconsciously, his hand brushed up to pick a stray hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear, before clearing his throat and repeating the measurement you announced.

“Perfect. That’s about all I need then if you have any other questions for me?”

“No, I believe that’s it.” You head toward the gate to walk him to the elevator, but you hear him rummage around in his belt for something behind you. “Wait, I almost forgot. These are for you.” He hands you a small box, and upon opening it you’re hit with the enticing aromas of curry, true curry– the kind you get in restaurants, not from a packet your roommate stole from her office. Tiny baggies of turmeric, cumin, garlic, and pepper sat neatly in the box with a card detailing different recipes and how much of each spice to use.

“Shoto, this is– I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?”

“You didn’t need to buy anything for me.”

“I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to.” You stutter out a thank-you and he gives you that small smile, eyes soft. “I figured that it’s better than what you were making the other night.” It surprised you that he’d remembered such a mundane conversation, much less would buy you something because of it. As he left and shot you that same dumb thumbs-up when the doors closed, your staff gave you knowing looks that you purposefully pretended not to see.

Tuesday sang the same tune, Shoto taking you to lunch and shooting the shit for a needed break, but you’d started staying at work longer and longer into the night to get looks done on time. Though it was efficient to keep working outside of true opening hours, you knew it was getting extreme when both your roommate and your other designer said you look like a ghoul. It wasn’t that you wanted to work yourself to near-exhaustion; it was the only way you could have the pieces ready for Saturday without all of M’s vast resources. Your team was working themselves to the bone, too, and as the one M left in charge, you felt responsible for taking care of whatever they missed.

“Hi, this is the stand-in supervisor for M; please give our office a call at your earliest convenience. Thank you.” You set down the phone and rubbed your eyes, leaning against M’s desk made of ridiculously vibrant bright pink plastic. Wednesday had proved to be chaotically uneventful, and you fought the urge to throw one of M's fake gold plants through the window. M’s office was separated from the rest of the work area, a small room with a closable door for privacy and a soft couch for when she needed “me time.” There were two soft thuds on the door before the other designer peeked his head in.

“Knock knock, your boyfriend’s here.”

You elected to ignore his implication. “What are the chances he brought the food here?”

“Very likely. Take a look.” As the door fully opened, you took in the sight of Shoto in his pro costume carrying a plastic take-out bag. The smell wafted to you and made your empty stomach rumble. It was like he’d read your mind, like he’d known that you couldn’t be pulled away from work for lunch anymore. He was so thoughtfully good.

“Hey,” you say, giving him a tired smile. His eyebrows dip briefly as he takes in the bags under your eyes and your sore voice, but schools his face into blankness as he raises the bag of food.

“I figured you wouldn’t have time for lunch.”

“You figured correctly.”

“Is it alright if I stop by and drop this off, then?”

“You can’t stay?”

“Unfortunately not. My agency is preparing a raid and it took a lot of string pulling to get away for an hour.”

“I appreciate you thinking about me.”

“Of course.” His hands delicately untie the knot of the bag handles, placing separate containers of soup and cold soba noodles on top of each other. “It’s your usual.”

“Thank you, Shoto. I’m really happy you had time to visit.”

“What time do you get off tonight?”

“Technically 5:00–”

“But they’ve been staying later!” Your fellow designer’s voice calls out from behind you, and you resist the urge to scold him for eavesdropping. You give him an incredulous look and are met with nods of sympathy from the rest of your seamstresses.

“I’m fine! It’s not that late, a few hours at most–”

“You texted me at 11:00 last night saying you were finishing up, and you clocked in at 6:40 this morning” his voice called again and you sighed in defeat. Whatever he was doing, he was determined to expose your messed up schedule to Shoto, who was looking at you in a way where you could see the gears in his brain turning.

“I have to go. I’ll see you at 5:00.” His voice almost sounded…frustrated?

“Wait, no–”

“Don’t. It’s not safe for you to go home alone at that time of night, and you look like you need rest.”

Maybe it was the lack of sustenance in your stomach or maybe it was the restless night of sleep you’d had, but your words had more venom laced in them than you ever intended. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. This is my job.”

“And it’s my job to make sure you’re safe. We’re not having this conversation right now.” He turns sharply on his heel, avoiding eye contact with you infuriatingly as you fight back the urge to cry.

For the rest of the day, you isolate yourself and disassociate into your work, running your thumb along fabric edges until it’s red from overuse and then switching to the other thumb. The world becomes white noise while you hand-sew beading, embroider great blue waves, rib corsets, and trim tassels. The quiet goodbyes from your staff run through one ear and out the other, including the apology from your other designer. You merely nodded, refocusing on the flowing ruffles of Pinky’s sleeves.

The elevator dinging is louder when you are the only one in the office, and Shoto’s steps echo through the space as he approaches you, on the ground with your head in your hands as you mentally work through how to add sheer detailing to Dynamight’s jacket that had already been finished days ago. His stylist had finally left your office a message, communicating that Bakugo wanted something more breathable that could show off his muscles. Your face scrunched in dismay at the sudden change in plans, and you’d sat on the floor for ten minutes just imagining how you could pull it off.

“It’s 5:00.” Shoto’s voice is even and patient, with no indication of your earlier confrontation.

“I know,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper as you shake your head.

“I’m gonna take you home.”

“I know.” You finally look up to see his hand stretched out to you, helping you off the floor and allowing your hand to rest on his arm as he walks you out. The walk to your apartment is mostly silent, and you let your eyes take in the fading lights of the sunset, and how they reflected off Shoto’s face and hair.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you say as you approach your apartment complex.

“It’s alright. I’m just worried about you. Like it or not, it’s my job to keep you safe; mentally, physically, emotionally, anything.” Despite your exhaustion, your heart still flutters at his concern. “Can I ask why you’re so worried about the ball, anyway? What you’ve created for me and everyone else is awe-inspiring.”

You give him a wry smile. “I appreciate your appreciation, but I truly thought this year was finally gonna be the year I split off from M since I’m designing most of her stuff anyway. But I’m scared that if I form my own company, all our clients will stay with M because she’s a more established brand.”

“You have me.” He stops, turning to look at you on the sidewalk outside of your building.

“Thanks, Shoto, but I–”

“I’ll tell my friends to work with you, too.”

“No, wait, you don’t need to do that–”

“I know I don’t. But I want to.” You laugh in disbelief at his childish insistence, and his mouth quirks in that way you’d fallen in love with. You’d fallen in love with him.

“You know, you’re really stubborn sometimes.”

“I’m not stubborn; I just get what I want.” His eyes flick down to your lips and his fingers brush another stray hair from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear. Delirious, you unapologetically scanned his face, committing it to memory. You could tell he was doing the same to yours. Tension stretched between you two the longer you stayed there, unmoving on the sidewalk. There was an urgent need in your heart to kiss him, hold him close until you fell asleep with nothing to worry about but each other.

But, that isn’t how life works.

An alarm sounded from his phone in his back pocket, and he looked back up at you regretfully. He opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Go. It’s okay.” Your hand gently caresses the side of his face, running your thumb over his scar. It was like his body was torn between staying with you and rushing to whatever emergency was happening. “I’m okay,” you assure him, sticking your thumb up encouragingly. What began as an embarrassing reminder of your first meeting had evolved into a secret joke between you and Shoto, guaranteed to make both of you smile and feel better every time. Without another word, he takes off down the street, ice blowing a frigid wind in his wake. You fall onto the couch in your apartment and cover your eyes with your forearm, finally processing that you could be considered close friends maybe even more with a pro hero.

But Shoto doesn’t come in at 11:30 on Thursday.

Shoto doesn’t walk you home at 5:00.

Shoto doesn’t answer any of your calls or messages at any point during that day.

Shoto doesn’t see you crumple to your knees when you read the headline on TV:

“Pro Hero Shoto: Missing, Presumed Dead.”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x you #bnha #mha #shoto x you #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #my hero academia

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weabooweedwitch · 1 year ago

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Most women your age are getting married and starting their families and you've never even had a bf 🤡 it's so over for you better get used to coping with ur crippling loneliness with maladaptive daydreaming, yandere asmr videos, drugs and self-insert fanfic because that's all you'll ever have now. Your youth is gone and you're still fat af even after you lost weight (probably gained it all back by now lmao). You could have made something of urself whem you were 20 by losing weight and going to college but instead you laid around and wasted all of your youth and now it's too late. No man will ever want to deal with your baggage of being poor, old, unwanted, uneducated (lmao how do I have more education than you and I'm 10 years younger? dumbass doesnt even have her GED), cringey age-inappropriate hobbies, mentally ill and not even having the decency to go to therapy and take meds, fat, ugly face, loser and loner with no irl friends, crazy family, looking old for your age, whored yourself out on a sugar daddy website, rotten teeth due to your own laziness, thinning frizzy hair and gross bulky glasses, drug addicted alcoholic who's probably going to be homeless for the majority of her life, mean person attacking minor aged rape victims like jesus christ you're so fucking worthless SO many red flags so much baggage no-one will ever want to deal with that. You don't even know how worthless you are

You know, every time you send me a message like this, I think of the person from your friend group who came forward a while back. You know, the one you don't like to acknowledge tried to apologize on your behalf. Anyways, every time you insult my appearance I just think of what your friend said

So i get it sweetie, youre mad at mommy and daddy and you're lashing out. That's why half the time you're repeating things i previously said back to me and parroting shallow insults with a very small vocabulary. The second i call you fatherless, you call me fatherless. I use thw word maladaptive and, suddenly you know that word too and juat HAVE to use it as well. I get it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

You're honestly just making yourself look so pitiable. You realize you've already painted yourself as such a dumb jackass that every single time you do this I basically just laugh and ignore you, and then people who know me and are friends or WANT TO be friends with me see how you treat me publicly and they all say "yeah wow who's this absolutely demonic little cunt acting like this without any reason". Like. What is the end goal here. Making yourself look as petty and stupid as possible. Meanwhile, what did someone else in your friend group say? The ones you lied to? Including Callie, the actual victim whose trauma you're basically trying to appropriate for yourself

Anyways yeah I just wanted to like show you the actual screenshots of the conversation I had with your friend back in June, which also to everyone else, yeah June, that's when she lied to her own friends and said she would stop doing this. She lied to her friends because all of them told her this was making them massively uncomfortable, so now she's. Being an internet troll in secret behind their backs 😂 they were going to tattle on you to your mom so you lied so they wouldn't check tumblr anymore because you're such a weird angry little freak that this has become a hobby for you

I'm sad? I'M sad? I don't even know your fucking name meanwhile you've scrolled through all of my blogs repeatedly for months cataloging details about me for the sheer purpose of trying to poorly insult me.

Like genuinely 90% of the reason I'm answering this is to basically wave a flag saying "hey everyone if you've ever seen or received weird asks of photoshopped porn of me or pictures of my actual family taken from their facebooks or saw the transphobic racist fake dating profile she made with one of my selfies or you ever received a bitch lasagna or Zalgo text, it was this cringey little lolcow right here"

But I also wanted to show you screenshot proof that you make your own friends super uncomfortable and that they started talking about your personal business to defend me over you. So. Yeah I guess that stings huh?

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cellarspider · 1 month ago

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Qunlat 11/12: Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth Names

⭅ Previous =⦾ Index ⦾= Next ⭆

So, if you want a character who scribbled on their own nametag rather than getting one issued with their high school diploma, I’ve got you covered. Time for (Tal-)Vashoth names. There’s no hard rules here, but there are trends we can look at.

Tal-Vashoth are a mixed group–obviously, they left for their own reasons.⁽¹⁾ Some don’t change their name: Salit didn’t, as far as we know. Ashaads one and two from the Valo-Kas may also be Tal-Vashoth, but we’re not ever told. Others may not use Qunlat at all, like if Bull goes Tal-Vashoth. Several Tal-Vashoth names we’ve heard tend to be specific protests of some sort. The two we know are Maraas (“nothing”) and Katari (“one who kills”), though I have a few quibbles on the latter one.⁽²⁾

Others? We simple don’t know. Armaas in DAO has an unknown name.⁽³⁾ We don’t have any others on record for classification, this is the full tally.

Vashoth names seem to be a mix of professional titles (Kaaras, “navigator”), possible protest names (Issala, “dust”), while others are concepts or qualities (Herah, “time”, Taashath, “calm”). Many use Qunlat, like Adaar (lit. “throw-fire”, a compound meaning “cannon”), and some appear to use Qunlat but don’t–Apologies to any Qwydion fans thought her name was a Qunlat word, hopefully the phonological analyses in previous entries show that it’s not.

Many of the concept/quality names are closer to what we’d consider “conventional” names: descriptors and aspirational qualities. Within canon, we can guess these likely grew out of the Qunari use of nicknames, but Vashoth have their own culture–or at least we can assume we do, canon has not actually shown us Vashoth culture at all. The wordbuilder in me is both sad about that, and gleeful, because it gives people more license to get creative with it.

Because that’s my goal here. While I can give people pointers on how to make this work and sound consistent with Qunlat as we know it, what you do with all this is your own. Whether you’re naming a character to play for the games or writing Qunlat for artistic purposes, I can’t tell you what fits you best.

And… that’s it for canon Qunlat, really. We’ve covered all the stuff we can say for certain. The last post in this series will be a condensed summary post so that people can have a reference document for everything, but apart from that? Done with canon.

There are other unexplained things, sure. The most substantive missing pieces are anything to do with grammar: we have translations that imply things like “if” and “then” and “because”, that something “must be”, building similes and comparatives and using ditransitive verbs and evidentials and grammatical use of multiple different word orders and and and--

But I can’t definitively say any of them have been canonically established. They appear mostly in the translations of Philliam, a Bard!, and for reasons grumpily expounded upon before, these are not strong evidence for their existence. We are left with a limited corpus of grammar, and 232 words I’ve been able to collect, and about 40 of them can’t be confidently defined. It’s a language that sounds good, has some interesting vocabulary, but it’s a small thing.

And I decided that I wanted to experiment with it. I took the words we had, made more tenuously educated guesses about the meanings of many of them, and turned my attention to the sentences we had. The English translations implied so much more linguistic depth than I could actually see in the Qunlat, if one assumed the language continued to be very Indo-European. I wasn’t convinced the sentences were soundly constructed.

So I started fashioning grammar from the bones of these sentences, shoring them up into something that could stand on its own as a language, and express complex ideas. If a translation told me that some grammatical feature was in a sentence, I would make it happen.

The result is an extremely different language, using the same sounds, but under the hood it functions unlike any Indo-European language I’m aware of. But among my small group of conlanging friends, it’s been popular. Without trying, I’ve gotten multiple people interested in using it, despite having no prior experience with Dragon Age. We’re able to hold untranslated conversations in Qunlat, with people able to describe ideas I didn’t explicitly build into the language. That means it’s functioning as a living language, albeit a small one.

And I will be detailing how it works. People who want to stick to just canon are encouraged to do so! In the coming days, I’ll be digging into my personal Qunlat project, and how to use it as a language...

...Once I take a bit of a break. This has been a lot, and I have to do a bit of catch-up.

⭅ Previous =⦾ Index ⦾= Next ⭆

Footnotes

(1) I remain sad that we’ve yet to canonically see Tal-Vashoth who didn’t reject the Qun, they’re just so intensely heterodox in their practice that they became irreconcilable with the mainstream faith. That’s bound to happen, with a religion that has a central governing body, a large swath of territory that’s difficult to communicate across, and a gradient of permissive-to-strict practice that runs from the edges of their territory to the core.

The fantastic fic Our Daily Bread makes a strong case that the Arishok in DA2 had technically gone Tal-Vashoth by engaging in conversions–something the Ben-Hassrath and Tamassrans would normally do. But that hasn’t been touched on at all by canon. We could have practicing Qunari with radically different theology! Have ones that are basically in line with everything except for one detail that seems insignificant to outsiders and those outside the priesthood, but has huge ramifications for their entire cosmic order. Give! Me! Spicy! Heresies!!

(2) We don't have a strong definitional difference between -aad and -ari, but we know -aad is used for names of Antaam roles (with minor exceptions). Ari is a more general term that can apply to nearly everyone, including kabethari and imekari, or refer to the entity of a culture. So Katari could mean “the person who kills”, but could also mean “the person who dies”, which might be more likely given the general -ari suffix. Theoretically it could also mean “one who kills a people”, but that wouldn’t be the primary reading.

So, how might I tweak this? Using the agentive -(a)ad could create Kataad, meaning “one who kills”. But Kata usually means “die” if it only has a subject, and only means “kill” if you give it an object. How would you say “one who dies”? Well! Canon actually gave us a suffix for that, and then seems to have forgotten about it: -(a)th, the passive derivational suffix. Kataath would thus mean “dead or dying person”, or “corpse”.

(3) We’ve established from Arvaarad that Ar means “to hold back something”, so Armaas could be using the same root word. …I also just noted that Armaas is an anagram of Maraas, which is odd. New names formed via the Daily Jumble, perhaps?

⭅ Previous =⦾ Index ⦾= Next ⭆

#dragon age #qunari #qunlat #tal-vashoth #tal vashoth #vashoth #conlangs

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hasumilvr · 2 years ago

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☆⠀𓈒⠀Eden. - Their love language.⠀⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🌷 ⠀

୨୧ Wc : 1000+

I actually really love ibara and Hiyori they are so silly. Need to wrap Eden up with fluffy blankets like burritos

Nagisa R. - Quality time

｡˚ Nagisa… still needs some time to understand the concept of love… But his heart feels fluffy and warm everytime he sees your angelic smile, and he can’t help but be a little selfish – he loves spending time with you. Maybe that’s love, he tells himself.

｡˚ He promised to stay with you during your highs and lows, and man sticks to his words. When you’re busy with schoolwork or dealing with the menacingly large amount of paperwork on your desk, he stays with you. There’s a comfortable silence between you two – he doesn’t want to interrupt your work, afterall, but the slow and light breathing makes you know he’s there, he’s there for you.

｡˚ Nagisa always makes sure his weekends are work-free if possible! He wants to spend more time with you, no matter watching a movie while holding hands on the couch, going for a late night walk accompanied by the quiet footsteps of yourselves or reading a book while sipping on coffee, he wants you to know that he loves you by spending all the time in the world with you.

｡˚ Of course, it’s not just you who enjoys the company of your significant other. Nagisa finds himself relaxed and his tense shoulders hurt less when you’re here with him. It’s always a relief to see you after an entire week of a busy schedule, because things always get better when you’re with him.

｡˚ He’s not very good at expressing his love verbally, but as he strokes your hand softly while you rest your head on his lap, you know he adores and cherishes you. Do return the sentiment by giving him a kiss on his forehead, okay?

Ibara S. - Gift Giving

｡˚ Since Ibara is well known as a workaholic who wouldn't give up on starring at his computer until his own body gives him up, he can't spend that much time with you (which makes him slightly sad, not like he will admit though).

｡˚ But does that mean he doesn't love you? Definetly not. Ibara tries to squeeze in breaks from time to time just to see you and leave a kiss on your forehead, and when he can't, expect to find a little something from the producer by your bedside in the morning, with a little note taped on it.

｡˚ ''Sorry I can't spend the weekend with you again. This is a pack of sweets from the gift shop in the place Eden went for the promotional event last week, and I thought you might enjoy it. Have a good week, producer dono. Salute ~☆ ( ・∀・ )ゞ" says the note, with "Ibara Saegusa" delicately signed at the bottom right corner.

｡˚ Geez... Ibara's such an idiot. It's not like you don't understand how busy he is, but he still feels sorry for not being able to be by your side. Next time, please tell him you love him for who he is, and even if work keeps him away from you, your hearts are still connected.

｡˚ With that said, Ibara is the type to buy you gifts from time to time to make up for his absence from your side! It's usually something small but sweet - sometimes it's an omiyage from the placce he last visited for work, and sometimes it's a bag of tea leaves or coffee powder, because he knows you're running low on them. From the snake who is still learning how to express love and affection, you deeply treasure everything he gifts you, no matter how tiny or silly it is.

Hiyori T. - Words of affirmation

｡˚ As expected from the prince of love and sunshine, Hiyori loves praising you and showering you with vocabularies of love! He compliments your hair and your outfit you picked specially for your date with him, which makes your heart does a little dance - just so you know, he sees how much effort you put in your outfits during your dates, and appreciates how much you value your time together dearly. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

｡˚ ''Oh, my lovely sunflower, you look sooo lovely today! Well, you're lovely everyday, anyways! I missed you so much... Hiyori demands cuddles from his darling, right here right now!" He's childish and selfish when it comes to you. In a good way, though.

｡˚ Oooooo he showers you with so much words of love oooooooo it makes you blush from head to toe like a strawberry everytime he does it ooooooooo (which just gives him another reason to call you cute. The pink shade of blush really compliments the color of your outfit today, making you look so cute he wants to kiss you so badly.)

｡˚ When you're upset, he tries to talk to you to cheer you up! Communication is the key to everything, and the same goes for expressing love and affection - that's what Hiyori believes. He doesn't like seeing you sad, and doesn't want to cross your boundaries, so instead of giving you a tight high straight away, he asks what's wrong first, before listening attentively to what you have to say. It's then that you feel Hiyori's warmth from his two arms wrapped tightly around you, and soft whispers of ''It's okay''s and ''I love you''s.

Jun S. - Acts of service

｡˚ Jun's way of expressing love is special. He loves doing little things for you. A massage after a tiring day from work? He has your back! It's nothing too touchy, but he just wants you to know that he loves you from his actions - that he deeply cares.

｡˚ Sometimes you feel like you don't deserve him taking care of you. Little do you know that he enjoys doing so! Running errands with you, for example, is a great way for him to spend time with you. He gets a break from his work, and sees his favorite person. When he helps you carry the heavy grocerries you collect from the supermarket, he adores how cute you are when you try your best to carry them all on your own, then give in and let him take one of the bags.

｡˚ Jun isn't that good with words too, so he depends a lot on ''showing'' instead of telling. It's the frequent help he offers you that makes your heart skip a beat... Jun has a very gentlemanly side, especially when he's with you.

｡˚ He just really loves doing small things for you to brighten up your day, so don't feel embarrassed, yes? He loves you deeply and geniunely, and he thinks you deserve all of his love and devotion.

#enstars x reader #ensemble stars #eden #eden x reader #nagisa ran #hiyori tomoe #ibara saegusa #jun sazanami #nagisa ran x reader #hiyori tomoe x reader #ibara saegusa x reader #jun sazanami x reader #(viv.writes)#esworks

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hellhoundmaggie · 1 year ago

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5 comfort characters

Finally getting to this @cymatile. the notification email has been burning a hole in my inbox for weeks now and I'm glad to finally get to it!

The Beast/Prince Adam (Beauty and the Beast 1991) As a bookish autistic little girl, I of course identified very strongly with Belle. As a city kid in a small town, I still do sometimes. But as an adult, I find myself drawn to the other half of the pairing. Belle is of course a lovely young lady, and I appreciate how she only respects the Beast when he first extends respect to her. But let us face it, she is too perfect a character to be truly compelling. Beast is quite the work in progress, though, and that's what makes him so fascinating. You thrill as you watch him angst and snarl and throw his weight around -- first to frighten and threaten others, then to protect the woman he loves. You are charmed as he discovers joy and companionship, then mourn with him as he gives it up to return Belle's freedom to her. And you're just a little disappointed when he changes into a generically-handsome man, even if it does mean he and Belle get to live happily ever after. Plus, as the meme says: "I'll get that bitch a library. Bitches love libraries."

Shane (Stardew Valley) Okay, I've read all the criticisms many times. He starts out mean to you for no reason. He's a total slob and a sad sack. He never actually quits drinking. He looks like Ben Shapiro. And I gotta tell you: I cannot fault this very good chicken man for any of it. This is another guy that I feel no choice but to root for because he struggles with so many flaws. I appreciate that the game doesn't let you "fix" them for him: you only give him the help he directly asks you for. He makes the most important changes himself, and the stuff he doesn't change isn't a dealbreaker for me. Plus Shane kind of looks like my IRL spouse so I gotta love him just for that, y'know? I can't forgive him for liking gridball, though. As a nerd, jocks are my natural enemy. Sorry, I don't have a choice!

Entrapta (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) Not a lot of people know this, but ND Stevenson called me up while he was developing the She-Ra reboot and asked for my input. I asked him, "Are you going to have a woman character with autistic coding in the show?" "Yes, we're going to have one of those," he said. "And is she going to have a special interest that few other characters in the show understand or empathize with?" "Okay, yeah." "Is she going to despair of ever finding genuine human connection and try to find solace in technology before learning that yes, there are people who care about her and value her uniqueness?" "Ooh, that's a good idea. Sure." "And can you pair her up with an angsty boy?" "I can definitely do that. Thanks, Maggie!" And that's why Reboot Entrapta is the way she is. You're welcome, everyone. 4. Wayne (Scarlet Hollow) I already post a lot about this guy, so I won't say much this time. I like him because he lets me explore the idea of being the subject of extreme passion and devotion in a way that doesn't put me in actual danger. I would never seek out that kind of relationship in real life, but love beyond proportion, beyond reason, beyond sanity is compelling in fiction. Plus he makes for some fun memes. 5. Mr. Pages (Fallen London) I love this big ol' nerd: its creative vocabulary, its book hyperfixation, and how bad it is at hiding the fact that it's not human. As soon as they put out the balance patch for Mask of the Rose, I am going to figure out how to smooch it, and you cannot stop me.

tagging nobody! Do this if you feel like it.

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myuni-moon · 1 year ago

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Myuni you are my internet crush and I love you

Thank you for being such an *amazing* writer

(⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠)

hi hi! thank you for the compliment hehe

since you're so sweet, i'll give you all a little treat. let me share some of my recent brainrots mwehehehehe

tw: child abandonement mention, yandere content, slight violence

i was thinking about platonic yandere!kaeya who receives a report about theft happening in the market. nothing too bad, just a few fruits or skewers that go missing every few days. still, it's become a cause of concern. as the cavalry captain, he's on the case.

it isn't long until he finds this little brat, hiding away in a small cave by the whispering woods. your clothes are dirty, and you're scratched up to your legs. your hair is messy, and your face is dusted with dirt. you remind him of some kind of animal, especially so when you stare him down like one the moment he comes close and protectively gather the stolen food in your arms as if they were priceless jewels.

even so, kaeya recognizes you as the scared child you truly are. he shows he means no harm, speaking gently and softly as he kneels down to your level. "hey there," his voice bounces off the walls, "what's your name?"

it takes him handing you an apple and letting you munch on it before you allow him to even come near you. kaeya is finally able to sit right next to you. he sighs and asks you a few questions. it's not long until he realizes you're a child abandoned by their parents, left to steal and live a life of misery if you hadn't already perished to

a small twinge of pity and maybe even sadness tugs at his heartstrings because he too knows what it feels like to be abandoned, but even then, his own father was kind enough to leave him in good care -- unlike your parents. he ends up taking you to the knights of favonius after assuring you you wouldn't get in trouble (he also thought it was kind of cute the way you clung onto him and cried for him not to put you behind bars). a bit of discussion later with jean, and you're put into his care since you were already somewhat familiar with him.

it's a chore at first, maybe, but he grows a soft spot for you. who wouldn't when this lovely little thing won't leave him alone? you follow him around and try to help him with paperwork even with the limitations of your vocabulary and skills. you clap and laugh when he shows off the little tricks he can conjure with his vision. somehow, you put a little bit of color into his life again.

after a while, there's nothing he won't do for you. in classic kaeya fashion, he pokes fun and teases you, but he'll get rid of whatever makes you cry. you might not even notice it, but if you bat your eyes and tug on his scarf, you can get away with anything. you can even pull him away from the tavern early. just drop by, and he'll be so concerned as to what you're doing there. he fusses so much that he ends up taking you home and just spending the rest of the day just doing whatever you want to do.

he loves it the most when you call him "brother." he doesn't like to be called dad or anything of the sort ("i'm not that old, am i?" he drunkenly sulked once at the tavern after you accidentally called him dad). he doesn't smile sincerely very often, but he just beams whenever you come running to him, calling him brother after a hard day at work.

during the attack of abyss mages on the city, he gets worried about you the most. before having to defend and serve as a knight, he actually leaves you in the care of dawn winery because he knows that you'll be safe and secure there. he hates to leave you, but he just jokes it off, so you won't have to worry too much.

"don't miss me too much, okay? i'll only be gone for a little while." his words seem way too nostalgic, and the mood of the situtation just feels all too familiar. "be good while I'm away. just stay here, and don't go outside until I come back. If anything happens, the adults can take care of you." you're crying into his uniform, but he knows you'll follow his words. you're a good kid like that.

when he's finally in the fray, he's ruthless. so much more than he usually is. he just wants to come back to you, pinching your cheeks as you tell him you missed him so much. he clicks his tongue when another wave of monsters of the abyss enter the city. he knows what signed up for, and he's happy to defend mondstadt, but this was the reason why he had to be away from you -- why you had to cry.

that to him was enough of a reason not to care. so he doesn't care what he has to do to come home to your smiling face, even if that means raising hell before freezing it over.

#myuni answers #i wanted to write more platonic stuff recently #i think it's bc of the webtoons

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gatheryepens · 1 year ago

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Red, White & Royal Blue book review

Warning: small spoilers

“Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some.”

First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations. The plan for damage control: staging a fake friendship between the First Son and the Prince.

As President Claremont kicks off her re-election bid, Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret relationship with Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations. What is worth the sacrifice? How do you do all the good you can do? And, most importantly, how will history remember you?

Author: Casey McQuinston

Rating: 5/5 ✨

Funny story, I had actually planned on reading this book a lot earlier than intended. About a year ago, for my school newspaper I had actually planned to do a book review on a popular BookTok book. My plan was to do Red White & Royal Blue, however seconds after buying the book I immediately got a refund and email saying the book was out of stock - so I reviewed The Love Hypothesis instead. I am glad that a year later I decided to read the book but at the same time very sad that I didn’t discover it sooner - a true oxymoron! This book was excellent. The book starts off with Alex Claremont-Diaz attending the royal wedding between Prince Philip (Henry’s older sibling) and Princess Martha. During the wedding, Henry and Alex get into a little spat which leaves them ending up in the cake on the floor. This creates a commotion, which results in several news outlets reporting the matter because of this some serious damage control is required resulting in a fast friendship that ends up being more.

What I really liked about the book is how long it took for the relationship to develop. Although the relationship started fairly fast, the build-up to it as well as what followed afterwards was executed well. Before Henry Kissed Alex, they had formed a nice camaraderie from the emails and the phone calls - I don’t know if I will ever get over the turkey prank. Even after the kiss, the relationship continued to develop with more emails and secret rendezvous. I think what was really beautiful were the individual characters growing and becoming more comfortable with one another. Henry first comes off as surly and standoffish, however we find out (along with Alex) that Henry is a funny person and has a big heart. I am a sucker for enemies to lovers/rivals to lovers and McQuinston did a fabulous job showing the stages it took to go from rivals to lovers - which made it a good read.

The writing style, in my opinion, was very simplistic. I don’t mean this in a bad way, I really liked how it was written - it was simple but engaging. This writing style made the book very nice, easy and enjoyable to keep on reading. I also liked the chapter to chapter length ratio, a lot of the times chapters can either be too few or too many or they can be very long or short. Obviously to find the perfect chapter number to chapter length ratio it depends entirely on the book, however McQuinston found the perfect balance. The chapters weren’t too long or too many. I loved the diversity of vocabulary that the author used. Whenever Henry said something really British I would chuckle for a while, a lot of the times anything Alex referred to I would have to look up for example LSAT. McQuinston did a really great job writing this book and showing the chemistry between Alex and Henry.

I really enjoyed reading from Alex’s perspective as I enjoyed going through the self discovery journey with him. Alex’s journey of discovering who he is and what he wants to be was really interesting to see. When we are younger, for some people it can be really hard to decide what you want to do in your future and to also not be swayed and pushed into a career path by other people like family. Alex first wants to go down the politics route (he wants to become a Senator), his main motivation is to help people and to do good in the world. Afterwards, he considers going into law after June convinces him to take the LSAT. Rediscovering yourself and changing your mind on something you're certain about is hard but it makes you a very brave person. One thing I admire a lot about Alex is how open he is to change and how throughout the book considers as well as explores different aspects of himself, whether it be deciding on a new career path or coming to terms and accepting his sexuality. Given that his mother is the President of the United States, approaching certain topics like sexuality or career paths would be challenging - as throughout the book there is a strong emphasis on all members of the family to be involved in the campaign and politics, so to divert/take a step back from politics would be surprising. There is also the issue of when he wants his mother to comfort and give advice as mother she probably lectures him as the President not as his mother and vice versa.

The only negative I have for the book is that I felt like the pacing was inconsistent. At the start, I felt that things happened really fast for example Alex and Henry’s relationship - I counted it from when they kissed. Then near the end it started to slow down a lot which is mainly due to the fact that both conflicts were resolved pretty quickly and the only thing left to resolve was the politics. I do think that the book was heavy on the politics, which at times made it hard to read/understand - the amount of times I would reread or have to google certain phrases. Despite the amount of politics, I enjoyed having that side plot as when I read romances I really like when there are other things going on besides the romance as it helps us to understand the characters and their motivation a lot better. To conclude if you are interested in enemies to lovers and unlikely relationships, I would definitely recommend Red White & Royal Blue. It was a fun read and had loveable characters which made it an enjoyable experience.

my last review, it was a long time....

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gemsofgreece · 2 years ago

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The Greek language is indeed beautiful and unique for better or for worse. It's the second most old language still been used after the Chinese so not only it kept it's roots but also has a rich history.

The problem with today is that Greeks often put in their vocabulary too many English words while speaking because of the constant contact they have while watching movies, social media etc. While some tried to use this as an opportunity to expand the knowledge of the Modern Greek language to foreigners, sadly most of them are victims of the globalization.

Also the sad thing is that, because Greece is small and is not the global focus on trading and influence like it used to, not many are willing to learn our language. Compare it to German which is spoken by millions and in other countries just in different dialects or the Spanish. So aside from Greeks, Cypriots and whoever Greek immigrant still uses our language, if we don't start becoming more involved in global influence and promoting the Greek language sadly no one else will care to learn it.

I just want to make clear that, from my side, I wasn’t talking about promoting the language to foreigners but simply suggesting to put it in good use amongst ourselves, for us and for our own future.

You see, the Greek language isn’t dying. Few million people speak it on a global scale but they are many more than they were during Ottoman times or after the Independence but before the Internet. Don’t forget that the independent modern state initially only had a few hundreds of thousands and this number had grown into 7 millions at the time the Anatolian Greeks (another 1.5 mil) started coming from Turkey. And obviously the Anatolian families here had only Greek as a language at home, not competing with another language like Turkish. Emigration took the language to other countries too even if nowadays fewer and fewer next generation expats speak it, it’s still more than when there was no emigration at all, right? Now Greek speakers around the world are around 20 million and I don’t know if those learning it in academics are included in this. In short, Greek has actually grown the last centuries, not shrunk, and now the tools Internet provides can only help it reach more people. Of course it can’t have the spreading rate of languages like English and Spanish and all that, but my point is that there is not any matter of extinction. Yet.

The matter there is is a degradation of quality, which is only due to our misuse and due to us being so pliably susceptible to the globalisation. This is not at all just a Greek phenomenon but obviously as a Greek myself, this is the language I care about first and foremost, that’s why I was complaining. So I don’t care how many get to speak it, as long as those who speak it, speak it well and enjoy to speak it. But to see such a potent language becoming nothing short of Simlish, judging from how teenagers speak it right now, yes, that gets on my nerves. I mean, why even want to sound stupid? It’s a little pathetic to sound like an academic in English yet only slightly better than a toddler in your native language, isn’t it? I see teens speak on camera and I get anxiety by how visibly they struggle to form a decent sentence wtf (Having said that, kids don’t seem to have as big a problem as teens do, so I don’t know, maybe the generations of the crisis reached an all time lingual low, no offense 🤷🏻‍♀️).

#greece #languages #greek #greek language #opinion #rant #anon #mail

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anxietywriter · 1 year ago

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Characters and Quirks!

idk about you but i like learning about characters and noticing that they have certain quirks, whether it's how they speak or act. it's endearing and makes me a little more attached

regional words! this sort of them helps to hint at an accent or where a character is from. For example "y'all" might indicate that they're from the American south, whereas "mate" might suggest they're from somewhere like the UK or Australia. this includes slang! especially if the same kind of slang is used in two different ways. Ex: "in my bag" may be sad for one person but happy/doing well for another.

hand movements when speaking. some people are so still and stuff when speaking, some are more expressive, and some have kind of fluttery movements. it's all in the gestures, the little hand flaps or nervous smoothing of their tie. or the rigidness of their shoulders versus grand sweeping motions

a characters general speech and vocabulary!! whether they get straight to the point or have long, rambling monologues. if they use big words or outdated language. or if they mix their speech with a different language.

they're always caring, in every small way possible, for everyone else. heating up soups when they're sick, gently pulling them by their sleeve when there's a car nearby, picking up small messes the others leave behind. they're like the older sibling none of the others had.

characters that actually like bugs and lizards and all that! they're FASCINATED and delighted by them! bugs in frames and pets! And they're always so excited to take care of their pet bearded dragon or tarantula in the most wholesome way like come on! anyways them always looking for new bugs and things and maybe even carrying a notebook or camera to keep a record of it

characters that always have a lot of just stuff. bracelets covering their forearms with layered necklaces and rings and multiple earrings piercings. tons of plushies and blankets and pillows. bookcases filled almost to bursting. figurines littering shelves. you just know that their house is a cluttered mess

love when characters have certain tells when they're nervous or lying. whether it's the slight upturn of their lips, or the way they always have to play with their jewelry. the way they nervously shuffle their cards in their hands when playing poker. their eyes darting to everyone's face. playing with their hair. sticking out their tongue slightly. fidgeting around. tapping their feet. LIKE YES. love the subtle hints to know what they're thinking.

#prompt list #writing prompts #story prompts

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the80srewinders · 9 months ago

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Our Diagnosis Story

We've been posting about our life before we found out about DID especially about before the host knew they had alters. We never posted our full journey, just bits and pieces when needed. Since this is a DID/OSDD blog we should post our full story, and since 80s culture has something to do with our healing, it fits perfectly on the blog. Other people with DID have posted their journeys before so we'll join and add ours.

Trigger warnings for csa, physical abuse, emotional abuse, rape, bullying, RAMCOA, medical trauma, isolation, and ableism apply for this part.

The body was born with brain damage, causing mental and physical disabilities. The body is mildly physically disabled, but can't do skating, lifting or sports. We were born with level 2 autism spectrum disorder. If you're wondering why I'm telling you about the body's mental and physical health, it plays a part in why we developed DID.

We'll never know how old the body was when we were first sexually abused or who did it first. But because of clues, all in our memories, we figure the sexual abuse first happened at 2 at the latest. Our first memories possibly date back to when we were 3, theres a small unlikely possibility it dates back to when we were 2. I, host, believe my memories date back to when the body was 3. My first memories are in third person, and with imaginary friends who were sentient. The really distressing dissociative experiences didn't start until the body was 4 that I know of. I'm not sure what most of the memories of when I was 4 even consist of or how many I have- all I know is the number is definitely under 30 memories in all. But I have plenty of memories where I'm wondering if the world is real (derealization.) I always thought that was a normal thing everyone did but didn't talk about- there's more of those, we'll come back to that later. I remember mentally feeling nothing- no fear, no sadness, no happiness, I just... existed. I didn't feel like anything at the time but looking back I feel like a fly on the wall or a spiritual observer in the room- I didn't feel anything, I was detached from the people around me, I was ignored in all my memories except the ones of me with one of the abusers in particular. I don't remember much about the memories with him at that time outside of he showed signs of grooming me.

When the body was 5 we started public school. Things seemed okay at first, but soon the autistic behavior became a problem. I wasn't diagnosed with it yet, so my guardians at the time and school staff thought I was just defiant. I remember almost nothing from when I was actually in the school, except for a few memories: being threatened with being shoved down a storm drain on the playground at recess by another student (don't remember anything about the student, they're like those black silhouette men on the caution warning signs- a distorted, shadowy ish but more opaque figure), not being allowed to sleep on the floor during naptime because I get sick too easily, and watching these "lesson" documentaries (I only remember what two of them were about.) If any other bullying happened when the body was 5 I don't remember it. But when I was 6 the bullying really got severe- and I remember none of it. I also have only one memory I know for a fact is from when I was six and theres a few memories that are possibly from when the body was six but the exact date is unknown. This is the year I lost to dissociative amnesia caused by DID. According to people who were around me back then, I was not myself- I was distant and upset. My mom even told me that when I was six I was mad at her for "sending me to school to get tortured" when the word "torture" wasn't in my vocabulary back then and I never knew that happened. I don't even know how I knew the bullying was severe- I only remember a little bit of it from 2009. I believe it was when the body was six I started writing in different names because that felt like it was who I was- I never knew my legal identity until I was 5 and that was just my first name, it took me until I was 7 to fully know my legal identity. When I was met with my legal identity, it felt uncomfortable and embarassing. My name was uncomfortable, like a slur, sign of danger or something I should be ashamed of. When I was six and seven, I'd be found randomly staring off in the school restroom, when ever since I could remember I've been scared of most public restrooms. I was running around trying to kiss boys which is weird because before I was 8 I was lesbian. I remember none of these things but they happened. This behavior was out of character and I never knew it happened until other people who witnessed it brought it up. In 2009 the bullying got more severe- two incidents I remember are a girl spitting in my food, making me eat it causing me to get severely sick, and being punched. I was homeschooled after that, and when I was, the time loss became noticeable to me- without consciously feeling like I fell asleep, I'd suddenly have a sense of being "back" from being somewhere else in the room or the house. But I had no memory of consciously falling asleep or waking up- my consciousness never felt like it was cut off, yet I'd be hit and rushed with this feeling that I went unconscious and was "back" in the chair or wherever. I'd mentally ask myself "Weren't you here just seconds ago?" I'd also feel like I was in different parts of the room than I really was, like under the chair. This was another thing I thought everyone experienced but no one talked about.

When the body was 8, we started visiting the body's cousin. She was less than a year younger than me, and our guardians thought it would be a good idea for me to be around her. Because I was (diagnosed with it the year before) physically and mentally disabled, our guardians thought it was a good idea to isolate me from other "normal" or really just outside people and have my cousins as my only friends. This is just the tip of the isolation iceberg I endured as a child. The cousin made a pass at us the first day, and would sexually abuse us sadistically for an unclear number of years.

When the body was nine, we officially entered a mental health crisis. I had no self esteem and wanted to be a "normal" girl. I saw the cousin do everything we couldn't but wanted to- skate, do ballet, have after school activities, have friends, and eat things we couldn't due to the physical disability. We also were recently diagnosed with autism- and the way it was explained to me was, I was being isolated because thats what you do with autistic kids since they have trouble socializing and other stuff I'd rather not repeat since its ableist. I also told off the sexual abuser from when I was around 2-6 when I was nine but have no memory of doing so, and supposedly what I told off had to do with him doing mind control on me and I don't remember if I told off the sexual abuse or not from what the person who told me this said. After that, my mental health got worse. I was consciously creating masks of what I wanted to be- these masks had names, ages, even their own family I wish I had and history. Whatever I thought was easier I'd pretend to be, and even tell strangers I was. I refused to identify with my real name and felt dysphoria with it. When I was 8 a phenomenon started that I still have, but especially had a lot when I was nine- those things you never knew happened, but you should remember them, and feeling like you're doing something wrong by not remembering them so you lie and say you do remember them. It could be anything- a vacation, a family night, a christmas party. It felt like it was "the rules" that I had to remember these things.

When the body was eleven, I had my first real encounter with an alter. I was thrown out of my body completely; I was watching myself from the other side of the room. And I felt like someone elses thoughts were being received by my brain and I was sharing thoughts with someone. I'd heard a voice briefly telling me to do things when I was 8 but when I was 11 this voice made itself prominent and was a part of my daily life, when previously I only had an internal monologue when I needed one- just to associate things together (often when I was deep in thought and detached from the world) and I don't remember clearly what else it was used for but it would come and go, pop up here and there. This inner voice was repetitive- it would be stuck on saying the same phrases over and over then get another set of phrases it would repeat over and over, in a way to block out "bad thoughts." This was a mostly unconscious thing.

When the body was 12 and 13, the abuser from when we were 2-6 would go on vacations and the dissociation really became prominent. Mostly identity disturbance. By this time, I didn't know what I really liked because I felt like my brain was pulling me in all different directions and it was exhausting. I would feel like my looks changed to someone else entirely, I'd always look in the mirror to make sure I still looked like myself. I even kept a strand of hair in front of my eye to "ground" me because I didn't feel like my looks turned into someone elses when I had the hair as a reminder my looks didn't change. My mannerisms would change to said person, I'd almost sense them behind me or inside of me. I would randomly be thrown overboard from my body and looking at it from the side like I was sitting next to myself. This happened a lot. Random objects or people would suddenly feel like they didn't really exist and that scared me. Sometimes the world felt dreamlike or just unreal when that happened.

When I was 15 I still had all those experiences, but a new one was added to the list- I would mostly unconsciously pick up random objects and forget I had them. I don't know what made me do that. I would pick up objects out of a remote liking and forget I was still holding them or had them. I didn't even feel them in my hand. I did this a lot anywhere. I wasn't even fully in control of myself.

When I was 16, I had amnesic switches somewhat often but didn't notice until years later when I found things I wrote and drew and didnt remember doing. There was a girl in my head I didn't consciously create I'd see and identify with. I started hearing coherent responses from another. But when I was 17 things would finally lead to our diagnosis.

When I was 17, my inner voice was telling me to do things repeatedly. When I was done, I would feel this sense of satisfaction that didnt feel like it was fully me feeling it. This led to me seeking mental help and getting misdiagnosed with OCD. I followed treatments for it (not meds- the body can't process them safely) and nothing worked. This would continue into 2020 when after talking about my "high wired" episodes where I'd be "driven" to talk a lot with no control or exact subject and feel like crawling out of my skin and my head spinning (these started at 7 I guess) and feeling "driven" to stay up and be productive almost only in the late night early morning hours with a sense of satisfaction, I was misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder. Those two things are common in CPTSD and were overlooked. By 2021, I was mostly unproductive until those occasional late nights, deep into doing things repeatedly to the point I was tired and getting other people to do things for me so I wouldn't have to touch or move the same object many times, and distressed by "voices." When I admitted one of my triggers into the behavior was seeing the abusive cousin that's when the possibility I had DID or OSDD was put in the picture. Starting in late 2021, I had to go through a lot of testing for dissociative disorders and personality disorders. In the process, around December 2021, the alters started unraveling. They would introduce themselves, and I'd keep a list of them. This was around the same time I started becoming obsessed with the 80s because of the music, and by February of 2022 I didn't feel the need to do things repeatedly because of the "voice" that much. The diagnostic process ended in November 2022 and I was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder. During the diagnostic process, we found a shared interest in the 80s. It started with music, which after loving the aesthetic in the music videos, we fully became obsessed with 80s culture and used our shared interest in the 80s to increase communication and reach functional multiplicity with the help of therapy. I look back at the time before I discovered I had a system, and I realize how I was a stranger to myself. I didn't know what happened in my own body but thought I knew everything about myself. I was so detached from myself and had to learn about myself. But here we are today- we've made so much progress in self discovery that we'd never go back. We're proud of who we are and wouldn't want to be anything else now.

#dissociative identity disorder #actually dissociative #osddid #dissociation #actually plural #syscovery #our DID journey

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looosey · 1 year ago

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Lucys Main Quest: Hireability

I work very hard. In fact, I'm working all the time. I work all the time very hard, but I'm still not hireable. I have very few hireable skills.

1. Hireable on Resume

When I look at my resume, I am pretty distant from it, because it has few lines of substance and even those lines I don't really resonate with.

The best possible read of my resume is: she can code python and has done so for MIT labs and classes. Okay???

But can she code a server? Has she ever deployed a personal website? Does she know how to use public API's? No... Can she solve coding challenges? No. (Is she passionate about anything she has learned so far at this institute?) [1]

To think I have to put in hours outside of school to achieve these things makes me sad. I spend most of my hours outside of classwork on dance, painting, cooking, reading, writing, listening to music, and traveling on MIT money. When @tumblasha and I talked about dream job assignments, mine was organizing Lollapalooza. It was not programming graphics, video, and music software for the entertainment industry (as is written on my resume).

2. Hireability at MIT

My friend recently switched her major to design (in her junior year of college), and that's changed her MIT experience 180 degrees for the better. Which is inspiring because imagine if you aligned all of MIT's resources to back what you're actually passionate in. You would be unstoppable. You could do anything you really wanted.

It would be a shame to let go of this opportunity, a shame to trickle down the path of least resistance. Because I'm hard working enough to manage the burden of the path, but not hard working enough to sit down and forge my own.

I wanted to write something about hireability since the beginning of this semester. MIT's career fair was last month, and even before that I had an inspiring coffee chat with an MIT alum/startup CEO (I stepped in for a friend who wasn't feeling good). This Friday, I went to Harvard's creative careers fair, which was a small thing held at the top floor of the smith center. It was small and exclusive, see side story [2]. But I met an artist manager from Chicago who worked with people on Lolla last year. An old white grandfather. A Bizarre exchange continued.

He was very interested in my passion about music work, I was interested in the fact that he worked on Lolla, and I handed him my resume which had a bunch of technical gibberish on it, and he told me that he hadn't thought about paying his interns this summer but this could change if needed.

It was bizarre because I didn't know what I wanted from that exchange. Would I drop everything and be okay with bringing nothing MIT-grade to the table as an entertainment hunchman?

3. The future of things

But all is not lost at the same time. Inklings of hope arose this semester. I'm working towards something, because my classes have FINALLY began to move from fundamentals/tools to how to use this tool to build something of your own design. I can finally speak creative stories because I have learned enough of the technical vocabulary. So now, it's the next step: if I had a portfolio full of work that would attract the right crowd what would it look like?

My goal by the end of this school year is to have a resume I am proud of. Not by Course 6 standards or industry standards. But my own. To have done personal projects I want to show off to people and a body of work that speaks for me.

[1] I feel this cognitive dissonance/out-of-body experience when I read my resume... Exactly like when someone asked me who my favorite artist was and I responded Sza. I was weirded out at myself because I felt like I was lying: yes, I listen to her enough, but like I can't name multiple albums of hers. I am not a fan fan. I am a fan fan of Tyler the Creator, Billie Eilish, and Ariana Grande. But they didn't come to my head at all. What is going on????

[2] Security stopped me on the first floor because I was an MIT student with an email invitation but was not on their registration form. They let my boyfriend with a Harvard guest ID through. Harvard Career Advisors stopped him on the tenth floor because it was for current registered students only and then told him "you can go sit at that chair over there though." And let me through. So much gatekeep.

#jobsearch #faang #mit #leetcode #coding #artists #college #hireability #lucys main quest

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