#IB Kid Problems

[eijibanaenae]

no thoughts, head empty

just me remembering that ash and eiji r good with kids

[xamaxenta]

I wish i had a dedicated monster hunter squad

[unravelingwires]

Social Ecology

A Case Study through the Lens of an Individual

I wish I could describe the forest well. I wish I could tell you whether the soil was rich or dry, whether the sky was cloudless or speckled, whether there were wildflowers or lawn-short grass.

The memories are faded, though. I can tell you this was three days after my parents learned the word gifted, though I barely noticed at the time. I can tell you that the woods were green, saturated and overwhelming, in a way you don’t get in pictures. I remember I left a knot of black hair clinging to a tree branch, though I don’t know how I managed that with double braids. The other girl didn’t walk up. I just followed a turn on the path, and there she was. She looked like Dipika, my best friend. She didn’t have to tell me she wasn’t who she looked like.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi,” I answered. “Who are you?”

She pointed straight up. “Did‘ja see the bald eagle?”

I looked. In the time it took me to check that the bird was really a bald eagle, she was gone.

———

The next time I saw her, it had been a few years, and I’d officially started kindergarten. I was on one of the wander paths around the subdivision, shoving through the chest-tall grass behind my house and forging a path into the unknown. Instead of the road, there was a path. Instead of more houses, there was a waterfall. She was sitting just out of the water spray, her T-shirt slowly soaking through. I scrambled up and past her, staring into the pool where the waterfall disappeared.

“You’re different,” she observed.

“You’ve only met me once.”

“I’ve met you more than once.”

“Oh. I’m bad at remembering people.”

She twisted her hair around a finger. “You seem different.”

“Uh…” I searched for reasons for that. “We moved. I met some new friends.”

“Are they nice?” she asked.

“Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“There’s—I have one friend in the class,” I said slowly. “She’s my best friend. We were friends forever, but now she’s made a new friend. She’s allowed to do that! I just don’t have anyone to talk to, now.”

“Oh.”

“And Dipika lives back in my old neighborhood, so I never see her either, so I just don’t talk a lot at all.”

We sat in silence, for a bit. The pool that the waterfall disappeared into was too deep to see the bottom. I dropped a rock down, but the water was fast-flowing, so I didn’t clearly see where it sank.

“Can’t you talk to the new friend?” the girl offered.

“I tried. It’s hard.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Yeah it is. She likes Cinderella, and I like—” I gestured vaguely— “platypuses.”

“You could just watch Cinderella.”

“Movies are scary. I don’t want to see someone’s eyes pecked out.”

“No one in Cinderella gets their eyes pecked out,” the girl asserted.

“Yeah, they do. I read the book.”

“The other kids have moms, their Ammas. Amma wouldn’t let us watch someone’s eyes be pecked out.”

“Ursula gets stabbed by a boat.”

“Well then do something else. All the other kids have lots of friends. We’re the best at everything.”

I sat. The change in angle restricted my view to the surface of the water, making it less satisfying to brood over. “I’ll figure something out.”

Keep reading

[cybersunnie]

the look of love | collection

02 RAFE CAMERON accidentally runs into Miss Sugar.

includes ib request / fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / dialogue heavy / mildly suggestive / wc 1.9k

Rafe rarely had good days. They were tolerable. Average, but never good. 

Today wasn’t any different. 

The moment he woke up, he had received the worst news he could receive: an investor pulled out of his latest project. Why? Because it was taking too long. Rafe couldn’t exactly argue with him there. Delays had occurred and put them behind schedule. But still, that son of a bitch was a millionaire. He had money to spare.

Whatever. He didn’t need him. That was what he thought until he saw the looks of his remaining investors’ faces when he reassured them to stay confident in his project. It was safe to say they weren’t very convinced. 

Everything was going just as planned. Clearly. 

And now, he loitered in the Kildare Retreat’s parking lot, staring at the beige three-story building before him. It was an apartment complex located just outside The Cut. One of his first projects. The one when people finally started to believe he had what it took to run his dad’s business. He earned their respect. Every smartass that had something to say before became mute in his presence. 

He supposed that was why he always found himself at Kildare Retreat. If he had done it then, he could have done it now, and he desperately needed that reminder.

But it was hard to reflect on anything when someone had music blasting on the third floor. Rafe didn’t know what was playing. An old song, he knew that much. It must be a new tenant. Some inconsiderate, low-life—

The music got louder as a door swung open, and a woman emerged, holding a paint can in each hand. 

Who was this bitch?

Rafe raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Once he squinted, the woman’s face cleared. Holy shit. He stepped away from his car and dropped his hand. You were the woman, his niece and nephew’s art teacher, Miss Sugar. The last time he saw you was when he picked up the kids, and since then, you have been a fleeting but persistent presence in his mind. 

Whatever insult he had ready to go vanished. 

You could play your music as loud as you wanted to. That was a problem for your neighbors to deal with, anyway. 

You descended the stairs and stopped in front of what he assumed was your car—a sedan he was sure had seen better days. It looked like it was on its last leg. When you popped your trunk open, you glanced in his direction and finally saw him.

Your eyes widened. He waved.

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice higher than usual. You cleared your throat and lugged the paint cans into your car. “You’re Jackson and Josie’s uncle, right? Rafe Cameron?”

Before he could stop himself, he smiled. You remembered.

“That’s me.” Rafe approached you, stopping just a foot away. “Miss Sugar?” 

You grinned, the corners of your eyes wrinkling. “So formal,” you teased. That alone had his cheeks feeling warm. “I’m outside work. Please, just call me Sugar.”

He wondered if that was your real name. It could be a nickname. Either way, it suited you—sweet and addictive. 

“If you insist, Sugar.” 

Your eyes narrowed, and you asked, “So, what are you doing here?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you stalking me?”

His blood ran cold. “What? No—”

You held up a hand to stop his ramblings, laughing, “Calm down, I’m joking.”

He scoffed. You were going to give him a heart attack one day. 

Rafe scratched his brow and then eyed the green and blue paint cans. “You gonna do some painting?” he assumed, nodding toward them.

“Yeah. A mural for the school,” you clarified, turning around to shut your trunk, steel hitting steel. “Also, you never answered my question.”

He licked the inside of his cheek. “Right, I’m just visiting,” he answered plainly. When nothing else was said, you gestured for him to elaborate further. You were nosy like Josie. “I designed Kildare Retreats.”

Your brows raised, and your lips parted in surprise. But that all muddled into a look of confusion the longer you stared at him. He watched the frown on your face deepen until your eyes flickered with recognition, a lightbulb appearing over your head.

“Cameron Development,” you said, snapping your fingers. “It’s literally on the entrance sign—I don’t know how I didn’t put that together.”

Amused, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, it’s really nice,” you praised, craning your neck to stare at the apartment building behind you. Rafe wondered if you genuinely liked it or were just being polite. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thank you,” he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

And for a moment, there was silence. 

The song that blasted from your apartment carried through the parking lot. You were beautiful in the sunlight, your hair fluttering in the wind. Nothing captured his attention like you did. Rafe knew he was staring, but you were staring at him, too. Your gaze roamed his face like a gentle caress, and he swore you could see right through him.

“Do you have time?”

Your voice brought him back to reality. “What?”

“I just, uh, I’d like some help transferring the rest of my things into my car,” you explained, your hands smoothing down your jeans. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

Rafe glanced at his watch. He still had time. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

“Great!” you beamed as you motioned him to follow you. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

After many flights of stairs later, you led him to your apartment. Through the booming music, Rafe heard bed creaks followed by an over-the-top pornographic moan from next door. His lips curled in distaste. No wonder your speaker was on full blast. 

Once you opened your door, sunlight bleeding into the space, he was greeted with a mess. It's not a gross, rotting mess. Just disorganized. Your brain probably looked like this, too. The coffee table in the living room was cluttered with stacks of paper with yellow sticky notes that said ‘STUDENT WORK :)’ slapped on top. Boxes hugged the walls, newspapers were beneath a freshly painted canvas, and paintbrushes were stuffed in a cup near the kitchen sink. 

It was a sight, for sure.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” you said over the music, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ve been doing more painting than cleaning.” 

Rafe tried to appear indifferent, but Sarah always told him he was never good at hiding his feelings. He shrugged, “Nah, you’re good.”

Your chin dipped hollowly to your chest, and you kicked a small box out of your way. You must have caught his bluff. Oh, well. At least, he tried. 

He looked around your apartment, his gaze lingering on the framed pictures of what he assumed to be your parents. A heavy feeling weighed on his chest. He forgot what it was like to have parents. But the sound of your grunts caught his attention, and he saw you hunched over and dragging a storage bin toward him.

“Can you carry this, please?” With a huff, you dropped the bin next to his feet. “Just be careful. It’s pretty heavy, so—”

Rafe picked it up with ease. You clamped your mouth shut.

“Never mind,” you said, your eyes falling to his arms, chest rising as you sucked in a breath. “You’re, uh, very strong.”

His lips twitched at your unabashed stare. Though, your gaze was more innocent than anything. A look of admiration as opposed to lust. You eventually turned on your heel and walked into a closet.

“You got any new projects you’re working on?”

Rafe adjusted his hold on the bin. “Yeah,” he answered, “a couple of studios in Figure Eight.”

As he approached the closet, you suddenly poked your head out the doorway and asked, “Figure Eight’s Northside, right?” When he nodded, you disappeared behind the wall again. “I’m still trying to get used to your guys’ lingo.”

Your words replayed in his head. So, you hadn’t lived in Kildare for that long. That explained why you were so friendly with him. You didn’t know his history.

You came out with a rolled-up tarp in your arms, your lips pursed in thought. “What kind of studios?” 

“It’ll be up to the tenant what they wanna do with the space.” Rafe looked you up and down, his head tilting. “Why?”

The smile on your face faded into something less genuine. “I’ve always wanted an art studio,” you said, the music almost drowning out your voice, “but I don’t have the money for it.”

“We can work something out,” he offered, his mouth working faster than his brain. 

You stared at him, doe-eyed. “Really?”

Rafe chuckled, “Of course.”

He saw your gentle eyes harden, analyzing him, searching for a speck of insincerity. You looked at him like everyone else had his whole life—like he was just some fuck up you couldn’t trust. It made him nervous, worried that you were starting to see that, too. But soon enough, you returned to your sweet and unknowing self, smiling. 

“Alright, well, c’mon,” you ushered, striding past him to disconnect your phone from the speaker. 

The music cut off abruptly, and your neighbors were louder than ever. You didn’t seem fazed by it, though. He wondered if this was a daily occurrence for you. 

You stepped outside. “I don’t wanna waste more of your time.”

Once he followed you out, Rafe waited while you locked up your place. His eyes trailed to your neighbor’s door, their moans having turned into screams of ecstasy. Intense and raw and unnecessarily loud. He might as well be in the room with them. 

“I should've put better soundproofing for these apartments,” he mused, his brows pinching together.

When you looked at him, you frowned and tilted your head, “What makes you say that?”

He huffed, a smile creeping on his face at your feigned ignorance. You bumped your shoulder into him as you walked past him, and the brief interaction made him forget about the ache beginning to settle in his arms. 

It didn’t take long for you both to descend the stairs and return to your car. You opened the rear door and plopped the tarp onto the floorboard. He did as he was told and set the storage bin on the backseat, and you buckled it into place.

You clasped your hands, grinning, “Thank you so much for your help.”

“No problem.” 

Rafe could hear the birds, the rustling leaves, the vehicles that drove by, and how the asphalt crunched beneath your shoes when you stepped toward your car to close the door. His mind was quiet around you.

“Oh, about that art studio—” He took out his wallet, retrieved his business card, and handed it to you, “—I’m just a call away.”

You glanced at the card, reading the information before taking it. “Okay, CEO, I see you,” you mumbled teasingly. “Thanks again.”

He smirked, stashing his wallet away in his pocket. “Don’t be a stranger, Sugar,” he said, echoing the words you had exchanged when you first crossed paths. 

Your smile widened, the apples of your cheeks lifting. “I won’t,” you promised, genuine sincerity dancing in your eyes as they dropped to the card for a split second. “Have a nice day, Rafe."

He nodded. “You too.”

And as he walked back to his car, he couldn’t help but get one last look at you. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that you were already in the driver’s seat, and your gaze met his through the rearview mirror. He immediately looked forward, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rafe had a terrifying realization: he would do anything to keep you around longer.

sunnie speaks! IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i'm sorry it took so long; i've been busy w school </3 but i love my babies sm so i hoped you guys enjoyed reading!!! let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following my library blog (@sunniefics) to be notified of all my future fics!

TAGLIST:  @rluvsr @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @larvalerius @rafesheaven

[onedollopofsourcream]

EMERGENCY 3/4/25

0/70 please keep sharin imagine if this was your family especially think of my sister, who relies on meds for physical/mental health they arent optional

My sister needs her meds they are literally helping her stay sane, shes used them for over 5 years. She's been without them for THREE DAYS she has BPD, OCD, and ibs + thyroid problems her meds also help with chronic pain as shes not in good health due to mouth/jaw problems. I know ppl are sick of me but no choice for now. I'm feeding 7, two of them being kids. Please help us make it through this week please If 7 people could just please donate $10 each id make my goal more quickly

p3ypal: avatarerin

c3sh app: $avatarpyler

v3nmo: skiesofperiwinkle

kofi: onedollopofsourcream

(also have an Amazon wishlist, DM for link)

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Jamie Ducharme

When you reach for a COVID-19 test, it’s probably because you’ve got a scratchy throat, runny nose, or cough. But those are far from the only symptoms that make Dr. Rohit Jain, an internal medicine doctor at PennState Health, suspect the virus.

These days, when someone complains of nausea, diarrhea, or vomiting, “I always get a COVID test on that patient,” Jain says.

Why? Despite its reputation as a respiratory virus, SARS-CoV-2 can also have a profound impact on the gut. Although most people don’t realize it, “COVID-19 really is a GI-tract disease” as well as a respiratory illness, says Dr. Mark Rupp, chief of infectious diseases at the University of Nebraska Medical Center.

Here’s what to know about the gastrointestinal symptoms of COVID-19.

What are the GI symptoms of COVID-19? While some people experience no gastrointestinal symptoms or mild ones, a subset of COVID-19 patients have experienced significant digestive symptoms since the early days of the pandemic.

Loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and stomach pain are common GI symptoms of COVID-19, according to Jain’s research. Some people experience these issues as their first signs of infection, he says, while others initially experience cold-like symptoms and develop gastrointestinal issues as their illness progresses.

It’s not entirely clear why the same virus can affect people so differently, but it’s good to be aware that SARS-CoV-2 can result in a wide range of symptoms, Rupp says.

How long do GI symptoms of COVID-19 last? Some patients recover in a matter of days, Jain says, while others may suffer from diarrhea and other symptoms for weeks.

Still others may be sick for even longer. Gastrointestinal problems are a common manifestation of Long COVID, the name for chronic symptoms that follow a case of COVID-19 and can last indefinitely.

One recent study in Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology found that, among a small group of adults who were hospitalized when they had acute COVID-19, more than 40% who originally experienced GI problems such as stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea still had at least one a year or more later. Overall, whether they were hospitalized or not, adults who have had COVID-19 are about 36% more likely than uninfected people to develop gastrointestinal disorders including ulcers, pancreatitis, IBS, and acid reflux, according to a 2023 study published in Nature Communications.

GI problems are also common among kids with Long COVID. Stomach pain, nausea, and vomiting are telltale signs of the condition among children younger than 12, according to 2024 research published in JAMA.

Why a respiratory virus affects the gut How can the same virus cause both a runny nose and the runs?

Once SARS-CoV-2 gets into your body, it infects cells by binding to a protein called ACE2, which is found throughout the body. ACE2 is prevalent in the lungs, which helps explain COVID-19’s respiratory symptoms—but it’s also found in high concentrations in the gastrointestinal tract, “so it makes sense that the GI tract would be a target for the virus,” Rupp says. It’s in part because SARS-CoV-2 collects in the gut that wastewater surveillance is a useful tool for tracking the virus’ spread, Rupp adds.

Studies have shown that the virus can hide out in the “nooks and crannies” of the digestive system for months or even years, says Ziyad Al-Aly, a clinical epidemiologist at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis who co-authored the Nature Communications study on chronic post-COVID GI symptoms. This may explain why gut-related symptoms can long outlast an acute infection, Al-Aly says—but there are many potential hypotheses in play, and researchers don’t know for sure which one or ones are correct.

For example, many researchers also think the virus is capable of causing widespread and sometimes long-lasting inflammation, potentially affecting organs throughout the body. This inflammatory response may have trickle-down effects on the gut microbiome, the colony of bacteria and other microbes that live in the GI tract, Rupp says. “We’re just scratching the surface as to what happens there,” Rupp says, but studies have already shown that SARS-CoV-2 can change the composition of the gut microbiome both during an acute infection and chronically.

There’s also a complex relationship between the gut and the brain, adds Dr. Badih Joseph Elmunzer, a gastroenterologist at the Medical University of South Carolina and co-author of the Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology study on prolonged post-COVID GI symptoms. His research suggests people are particularly likely to suffer long-term GI problems if they also have signs of PTSD from their acute illness or hospitalization.

That’s not to say GI symptoms are all in patients’ heads; on the contrary, Elmunzer says, they are very real. But, he says, there’s a lot left to learn about the microbiome, the gut, and the myriad ways they interact with other bodily systems.

[petermorwood]

We had roast beef for Christmas dinner, along with - among other things - roasted potatoes, roasted carrots and roasted parsnips (if the oven is running, make use of it!) Very good they were, too.

Boxing Day was the usual grazing-on-leftovers, but next day, to break away from Variations On A Theme Of Roasting in E Minor, @dduane decided to do some frying instead, and made latkes.

I'm more familiar with hash browns and rösti, but I've had latkes before and enjoyed them a lot. This batch was excellent, so much so that I excused myself from the kitchen until she'd taken some photos, otherwise there'd have been nothing left to photograph... :->

"More-ish" doesn't even come close.

Her IBS meant she avoided the traditional apple compote accompaniment and went instead for sour cream - super-rich Lithuanian 40% in this instance - so the apples weren't missed.

The IBS also meant leaving out any onion, so these weren't as traditionally flavoured as the last time when IBS wasn't yet a problem, but when I suggested adding bacon lardons to the next batch instead, she rolled her eyes and muttered something about not getting that idea past even the most reformed of Reform rabbis *.

So, no.

Or at least not yet, because there are lots more potatoes and I'm not helpless in a kitchen...

*****

* I know the "Three Rabbis and the Hanukkah Bush" joke, and she knows I know, because she was there when I first heard it at a Discworld convention. This, much shortened, is how Professor Jack Cohen told it:

Q: "Rabbi, my kids' gentile friends all have Christmas trees. Would a Hanukkah Bush be okay?"

Orthodox rabbi: "No, certainly not!"

Conservative rabbi: "Just inside the house, and keep it small."

Reform rabbi: "Hanukkah? What's that...?"

*****

Something else which prompted comment, this time from me, was when using our Magimix (Cuisinart) to grate the potatoes. We've only got one grating disc (it came with the kit) and I wondered if its 2mm cut was too fine - no, it wasn't - so went looking for New Discs for Next Time.

That's when I discovered there'd been a design change. When we bought our processor back in the mists of time 30+ years ago, the cutting-grating disc that came with it, and all extra ones, were reversible doubles, like this:

It fits on the spindle one way up for slicing, the other way up for grating. Simple.

However, the modern discs AREN'T reversible, an idea no doubt put forward by some bright spark in Accounting...

...since now Magimix users need twice as many discs as they used to, and buying them costs twice as much as well.

(Sensible users also need twice as many boxes for safe storage, because these things are didn't-feel-it-happen sharp, and can easily exact Steel Fee from an unwary finger reaching for something else in the same drawer.)

On the bright side, we seldom need to grate / slice stuff in such large quantities that doing it by hand on mandoline or box grater is a serious chore, and doubtless the redesign has some sound mechanical reason behind it.

Despite that I can also hear the distant ka-ching of the corporate cash register, making this whole thing rather (cough) grating...

:-P

[elexuscal]

I saw your post about chatgtp and here is a thought i had.

What sre these students also going to do about practical issues if they rely on something like chatgtp?

I don't know if they overly rely on it or not, but chatgtp ain't going to have solutions to the many hurdles life throws your way.

Hm. Well. I think folks who rely on ChatGPT will continue to rely on ChatGPT until it clearly and obviously screws them over.

That might be a big, obvious, well-publicized global incident. We've already had a couple, like that lawyer who lost his license after ChatGPT made up fake cases for her paperwork. It'd have to be something like that, but waaaay bigger scale, something pretty much no one could miss.

But frankly, I suspect it's going to be individual failures that everyone has to have on their own. Ask an LLM on how to fix their car, its advice ends up fucking the car up more, and now they have an expensive bill to make the lesson sink in. Ask ChatGPT to write something difficult for their significant other, and whoops, now you're having a big relationship fight. Ask ChatGPT a health question, end up getting super sick. ETC.

And once a person realises they can't use ChatGPT for everything, then it's not like their brains are irreparably damaged. I've seen a LOT of notes in the last two weeks that are people being like "you're damaging your brain" and like, I think that's a very bold statement to make. Generative AI hasn't been available for very long, so there can't be many studies on the subject to show one way or another. But even if we are, brains are resilient! it can recover from huge major stuff, like drug addiction and depression and brain surgery! it can and will recover from ChatGPT.

so i am not doomer about this, honestly, genuinely. but i do really hope we can nip this stuff in the bud before too many doctors and architects and policy makers and the like have to learn this lesson the hard way, because this does have the capacity to really hurt folks.

Which means we need to fix this problem at the source, and ask the question: why are So Many People using LLMs for their work?

And that's a broad and multi-faceted question and I don't think there's a single simple answer. But when it comes to education? I think a big portion is: overwork.

I remember seeing this scene a couple years after finishing secondary school and it resonated SO much. And my understanding is it's only gotten worse in the 10-ish years since I got my undergrad.

And it's not just the level of work.... It's the level of work where so much of it is pointless, or unnecessary.

On a micro-level, that's assignments created with no real thought about learning outcomes, just there to tick boxes. (Thinking of the time where we were told "we should have" kept diaries for all our extracurriculars 15 months into the two year IB course, and my whole year spent like two hours writing a whole bunch of fake ones retroactively). On the other side of the coin, it might be that assignment is genuinely important for learning that subject matter, but the person doesn't actually care about the subject matter, they just need a diploma, because society has decided a diploma is the magic piece of paper you need to get a job, and cost of living is rising crazily pretty much the world over, so you really Can't care about the sanctity of education or whatever.

When that happens, of course kids (and adults) are gonna start using ChatGPT as a shortcut. And while I'm certain there are some folks who are overusing it to the ridiculous amount, they're probably a minority, and we probably shouldn't overstate the problem.

So, uh. How to get people to stop relying so much on AI?

We need to start fixing education! And to start fixing education, we need to start fixing capitalism itself, because that's what's introducing many of the perverse incentives

Should be easy! No problem!

... by which of course I mean it's a huge problem, and knotty, and I don't know how to tackle it all. Why should I? I'm a rando on the internet. I used to teach, but only for a handful of years, and at mostly a kindergarten level. There are better qualified folks than I to propose education reforms.

But in the short term, I think cutting down a lot on homework, and having most essays and assignments written in-class by hand might be a good start.

[myfairkatiecat]

My mom was all like “you were better with time management before you knew you had adhd!” And I’m like no I’m just in my last few months of being an IB diploma student I have a lot more work.

And then she was like “I raised you and you never had attention issues! When you were a kid in school, you would get into the subject and get upset and confused when you had to move on—you didn’t have attention problems,you had problems transitioning between tasks!”

I love my mother. She is super smart. She has a PhD in a different field from Princeton and I trust her with almost everything. If she can look me in the eye and use the phrase “you had problems transitioning between tasks” to convince me I used to not have symptoms of adhd… no one is immune to misunderstandings about how adhd works.

[inkblot22]

Can You Keep A Little Secret? 2

Dreamworks films have no right having such good soundtracks. The whole time I wrote this I listened to this and this. The second one isn't a Dreamworks song, but Scary Bitches is such a good band and I want more people to know about them tbh. The first song also is not about me, as I am neither big nor chunky, but hey, who doesn't love someone who is big and chunky? I'm sure everyone can relate to that song as either the person singing or the person being sung to. Dividers made by @/cafekitsune.

Similarly to the last part, this fic is aimed at sort of anyone, but the reader's physical body has afab features. It's not really mentioned in this chapter, but it will come into serious play later.

TW for: lots of confusion, semi-shy reader, MORE creep behavior, a lot of introspection in this chapter, one (1) weird middle-aged man, reincarnation. These warnings will get worse, and this takes place when all characters are 18+.

Part 1 here!

Monday comes with the regular stress. You slept like a newborn and your new mom came over to congratulate you. She’s sweet, but her excitement was not contagious. If anything, it just stressed you out more. At least she made dinner when she came over. Always excellent when you don’t have to do that on your own. 

On Sunday, you make a night of getting ready for your doom tomorrow. Your agent sent you an email on Friday, including the shot location. 

Monday morning, you call up your new father, who apparently wakes up every morning at four to relax before he has to be productive, and he sends over Devin and a car to take you to the set. Devin, as it turns out, is an elderly man with cataracts and your father’s trusted chauffeur. You aren’t convinced as he takes turns way too hard, your cupcake-shaped backpack sliding on the back seat. When he drops you off, he hands you a hard candy and wishes you a good day before he takes off speeding. The candy looks like it’s older than you. You slip it in your pocket.

You imagine you’re lucky, since when you walk up to the tents, you don’t see Epel. You’re not ready for the rollercoaster of emotions he inspires in you. Instead is a group of three people around your age- college kids- and a grouchy-looking middle-aged man. You take a nervous seat on one of the nearby stools.

You were certain you’d been silent, but as soon as you’re settled, the whole groups’ heads snap to stare at you. A woman with ocean-green hair walks over and holds out her hand.

“My name isn’t important right now, ohmygod it’s so nice to meet you!” She squeals, shaking the everloving fuck out of your arm, “Oh, who am I kidding? My name is Belle!”

“Uh… nice to meet you, Belle?” You say, smiling awkwardly.

“Ahhh! You’re not mean at all! Those tabloids don’t know what they’re talking about. Who believes that greasy, gossipy shlock anyway, huh?” She talks a mile a minute.

Another woman with dark hair walks over, smiling somewhat awkwardly, “Belle, you’re scaring the poor thing. I’m Argon. Yes, like the gas. No, I don’t have IBS.”

You’re not sure why she decided to clarify that, but it’s not your problem. The third person and the middle-aged man stroll over. 

“I’m Starlo. You’ll be in these meaty paws today.” The middle aged man says. It’s not a pleasant introduction, and if anything, it makes you want to turn tail and run.

You nod along regardless, and the other man jabs out his hand, “Pepper.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you.” You say politely.

Belle drags you out of the stool and towards a trailer, the only one on the lot. She shoves you in and you feel the want to leave grow stronger.

She’s so bubbly. She talks fast and she talks with her hands, “This is you and Epel’s dressing room! I know it’s not ideal, so that’s why it’s got a divider. He’s a gentleman anyway, so it doesn’t matter, I’m sure. Starlo will be in shortly to do some makeup tests, and then once Epel gets here, we’ll go over the script and the visions we have, and then that’s all for today. I’m so excited to work with you guys. Oh! That’s right! We were gonna go to that traditional Scalding Sands place after we’re done here. I don’t have your contacts, but if you wanted to come along, that would be amazing. You seem so sweet.”

You’re legitimately unsure how to respond to any of that. She also seems very sweet, and you really don’t want to get stuck in a coffee shop with Epel afterwards. Unfortunately, as she was speaking, the devil himself showed up. You didn’t notice him at first, but you felt your skin crawl when he did. He's got his silky lavender hair pulled off of his shoulders in a little tail at the nape of his neck. You open your mouth to say that you’d love to get shawarma with this motley crew, but he beats you to it.

His pretty blue eyes never leave yours, “Oh, you’re just a peach for offering, but we’ve already got plans.”

Belle spins around to face him, screams, and swoons. You manage to stumble forward and catch her, and Epel’s smile drops as he slinks across the room, spins one of the crappy foldable chairs around, and plops himself into it, elegantly resting his ankle on his knee. For all of two minutes, he just stares at you as you lay Belle down, stuffing some fabrics under her feet, and fanning her face. 

When Belle comes to, his smile is back. She jumps to her feet and begins fawning over him, shaking his hand just as excitedly.

“Hi! I’m Belle! Oh, my god, you’re even prettier in person, and ooh, you smell so nice too.”

Epel laughs, but it doesn’t hit your ears right. Belle eats it up and you glance at the door. She’s got him distracted. It would be so easy just to leave, to feign an illness and walk to the nearest cornerstore so you could call a taxi or a rideshare.

You’re not lucky, though, as Starlo strolls in just as you’re about to go for the door, “Belle, what the hell are you doing? Argon and Pepper are waiting for you.”

She literally squeaks like a mouse and waves a quick goodbye. Starlo grabs you by the arm and deposits you in the other foldable metal chair, clearing his throat repeatedly as he pulls over a stool and drags out an industrial size makeup kit. 

The first makeup that he swatches both tingles and is way too light a color for your skin tone. You blink rapidly, unsure if you should say anything.

“You gonna get the same thing you always do?” Epel asks.

“What?” You turn your head to look at him.

He’s wearing a patient expression, but like always, it feels artificial. “From that bagel place.”

“Uh… I-I’m sorry?”

“I know you didn’t forget. I’m taking you to brunch after all this.”

“Uh… haha, yeah.” You don’t know what you always get from the bagel place.

Starlo daubs something else on your arm. It’s cold, but it looks really pretty on your skin.

The “you” that everyone has been expecting sounds like an outspoken, opinionated person who was consistently late or absent from various responsibilities, and if your new mom is anything to go by, neglecting their own health. You almost wish you had a bit more to go off so you could start acting like this you, but you’re not too keen on speaking your mind with people you don’t know. Your entire life has been hit with a cosmic “reset from most recent save” button, and if you dare to mention it to anyone, you’re in for a whole new set of problems.

Whatever Starlo just put on your arm burns. You yelp and jerk away, and he grabs your wrist. You think it’s instinctive, but his grip is nothing to sneeze at.

“What’s the matter?” Starlo asks.

“I- You’re crushing my wrist.” You mumble, “And I don’t know what that last one was, but it burned.”

“It burned?” He pulls out a bottle of the wrong shade of foundation and looks at it, “Huh. No wonder. Damn thing is expired.”

“Why are you even using that one?” Epel asks. Although his tone sounds innocent, the question is outright confrontational, “It’s way too dark.”

“Are you the makeup artist here, son?” Starlo shoots back.

“I usually do my own makeup. I know it’s not the same, but anyone with eyes can see that you’re going about your business the wrong way.”

You keep your lips sealed. What are you even supposed to say here? Other than that last product, he’s been fine. His hand on your wrist feels crushingly uncomfortable, of course, but he’s not doing any of this on purpose. You skimmed the script, but you’re not really sure what the story is about. It’s all of your jobs to try to make it come together, and if that means that you’re going to be wearing a foundation two shades too dark for you, then perhaps that’s what art is. As you were thinking, Starlo let go of your wrist in favor of getting in Epel’s face. 

“-no two-bit, fucking stuck up little prick like you is gonna tell me how to do my damn job. You understand?”

Epel is smiling sweetly even as the older man’s spittle is spraying him in the face. He stands up, and Starlo steps back, as though expecting Epel to start swinging. Instead, he walks over to you, grabs your hand ever so delicately. The contact makes your skin crawl as he yanks you to your feet.

“You should apologize before the two of us walk off set right now.” He said, still smiling.

You can’t just walk off set. You don’t think you can, at least. Your agent was so excited for the positive PR this would create, and this is genuinely not a big deal, “Wait-”

Starlo’s eyes narrow, and it hits you that maybe he sees what you see when you look at Epel. A two-faced creature masquerading as a man. You’ve seen one of his sides clearly, but you’re certain you haven’t seen all of the other one, even when he called you on Thursday. It’s like seeing someone standing at the end of a hallway with their back to you: the sight is enough to give you chills, but you aren’t able to see the knife that the person is holding in front of them. That sort of thing. You’re aware of the danger, but can’t comprehend the depth of it.

Despite all, Starlo acquiesces, showing his palms and shaking his head, “Yeah, I’m sorry. Doctor says I gotta work on my temper.”

“You do.” Epel responds flatly, releasing your hand and reclaiming his seat.

The rest of the test is short. Starlo is pretty competent, and he makes it quick and sweet.

That seems to be the theme for the rest of the day. Starlo remains in the trailer to dispose of a few expired things and note down what you had reactions to, while you and Epel meet up with Belle, Argon, and Pepper to talk about the short film.

It’s going to be a story of lovers, unfortunately, but you get to play the part of the dead one. The story goes that your and Epel’s characters came out here to camp, but you froze to death in the night. Epel returns to the campsite every year in your memory, and you return from the land of the dead in his. On the night shown in the film, you finally bump into each other, and through the emotional reunion, you spend one final night camping together.

Epel smiles and nods along with what the three film students say, all too eager to whisk you away as soon as the first shooting date is scheduled and you have an extra copy of the script in your sweaty hands. 

He drags you towards a very cute little compact car in candy apple red and opens the door for you. You don’t want to get in, but you also don’t want to call Devin. You take a seat and he closes the door. As you’re buckling up, he gets in the driver and starts the car, just sitting there for a second before he buckles and backs out of the lot, his arm on the back of your seat.

You look out the window and Epel grunts, his voice no longer sweet and charming and fake, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

You turn your head sharply, “What?”

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the wheel as he blinks. You wonder if he’ll leave it at that until later, and then he says, “You’ve been acting real weird. You been talking to someone?”

“What are you talking about?”

He narrows his eyes in a glance at you, and then he swerves the car in a wrong turn. “I think you know. People don’t change overnight. Where were you that week no one could get ahold of you?”

“I was… in my apartment?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. You’re in the city by now, the sun reflecting off of the skyscrapers’ windows in an aggressive manner, “And over the course of that week you decided you didn’t like being a bitch no more?”

“I don’t-”

“Every time I saw you, for years, it was the same thing.” He turns again, going in a circle around the block, “Same shit. Every day. Making fun of my upbringing, like I didn’t know you barely had one, calling me everything out of my name, and now suddenly you’re…”

His voice trails off. You contemplate throwing the door on your side open and jumping out of the car. You absolutely do not need this. You’re already stressed out.

“Well… suppose I shouldn’t complain. I do like you better this way.” He mutters. “But way back when, when you pulled shit like this, it was because you were plotting something. That your game now? You-”

“I… I’m sorry for being so mean to you in the past.” You’re not apologizing for anything you did, but you’re grasping aimlessly trying to de-escalate this one-sided conversation. He’s driving. If you don’t do something, he could decide to swerve off the road and kill you both, “There was no reason for it.”

He’s silent for a moment, and then he says, “That… means a lot. I already forgave you. Told myself I wouldn’t quit trying to be friends. Guess it paid off, huh? I’m sorry for getting angry when we talked, Thursday before last.”

You don’t like that at all. It sort of feels like he’s not saying everything, like you should know what he’s talking about. You don’t. You weren’t living in this body Thursday before last. You nod and look out the window, “Uh… I appreciate it.”

You don’t actually care, but you’re a good actor. You’ve already decided that you’re going to just go along with Epel’s brunch and then you’re going to pretend he doesn’t exist outside of work. Frankly you’re unsure why the person who used to live in this body had his number or interacted with him for years, evidently.

Epel parks and you have a minor crisis as you try to figure out what you typically get from this bagel shop. It doesn’t matter anyway, since he orders you a large caramel iced coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese. That’s such a basic order, but it’s simple enough to be good. You sit quietly and eat, not interested in making conversation.

Epel clears his throat. He’s quiet, but he’s talking in that schooled version of his voice again, “You ever hear back from that breeder?”

“Uh… the what?” You narrow your eyes.

Epel is leaning on his hand, a sweet little smile on his lips as he looks at you. Seven, you want him to look away, “The sphynx cats. You said you sent them an email a while ago during that meeting we had with Mirelle after our big public argument.”

“Oh. I haven’t checked.” You didn’t know you should have. You take a sip of the iced coffee and look out the window.

Epel hums and a stranger walks over, grinning, “Oh my goodness! It’s actually you! Can I have your autograph, Mr. Felmier?”

“Oh, just Epel is fine. Sure!” He’s all smiles as he interacts with the fan, but as soon as they’re gone, his face falls and he nudges your hand, “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

“O-oh, no, that’s alright-”

“You want to make another big scene?”

You force a smile and grab your iced coffee, following after Epel. He nudges your hand with his own, but you pull your hand away, covering it up with adjusting your clothes and holding your nearly empty coffee cup with both hands. Your hands are slick with more than just condensation.

You’re all too aware of your surroundings, especially the way that he somehow knows the key code to the door of your apartment building to get you in without a fob. You pause in the lobby.

“Thanks so much for walking me back, Epel. See you tomorrow.” You smile and turn to walk towards the stairs.

Epel grabs the back of your shirt and tugs you back a bit. You stumble against him and he frowns at you.

His expression should tug at your heartstrings, and yet… “You’re not gonna invite me up?”

This poses a dilemma. There are a few people watching this interaction. You can’t afford to make any type of scene, but you absolutely do not want to be alone with him. While you don’t know him well, your body does. Something also tells you that he’s a bit of a danger to be around in general. Call it a gut instinct.

“Uh… Well, maybe you could walk me to my door?” You have no intention of letting him in your apartment.

His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but he smiles regardless, and loops his hand through your sweaty one, strolling confidently towards the stairs.

About as soon as he lets go of your hand to ascend the stairs, you bolt up the stairs, your palms slapping against the dirty concrete to keep you from bashing your face. You’re glad you didn’t wear pumps today as you get to the third floor, careening down the hallway and fumbling your keys as you shakily unlock the door. You lock it behind you, slumping to the floor.

Tomorrow is gonna suck absolute ass for you.

[damnfandomproblems]

774234934404579328

I just want to say, I think it's criminal how bad we're failing our children that IB or equivalents still aren't considered the bar minimum for all schools to meet. You'd think that educating kids on how to make sense of things would be a priority, but so many countries don't prioritize it at all. (I also wonder if this is half the reason we have a major anti problem on our hands now, because kids are bombarded with bad info on social media from the time they're old enough to hold a tablet, so it's a big, bad cocktail of uh-oh.)

Posting as a response to a previous ask.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Why TF Do I Even Try?

Dear Future Husband,

Despite having done the worst of any of us in the past, including getting involved in heavy drugs and getting arrested as a teenager, my brother is the golden boy who can do no wrong.

Let's talk about that.

As I write this, MotherLivelyHeart is watching a youtube video that LilBro sent her. She spoke to him before Shabbos and he "gave her encouragement to stick to a diet, even if it gets hard and feels like it isn't doing anything" and blah blah blah.

She is watching this video because he's encouraging her to try a diet for several of her medical issues that I've been trying to get her to try FOR OVER A YEAR.

And every time I brought it up and mentioned videos I'd seen with people who have her similar issues having good results, and that it's not a lifetime commitment, but worth trying for at least a little while, she gave me SO MUCH F*ING PUSHBACK.

She spoke to LilBro on Friday morning.

By Friday night she was saying "so when I start this diet..."

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

For the last decade, I've restricted my diet increasingly every few years because new food sensitivities kept popping up and without insurance I couldn't see any doctors about it, so I just kept cutting things out until I felt better and living that way until I felt bad again.

By the summer of 2023, things were starting to upset my digestive system yet again, and by the time December rolled around, I was at my wits end. I was having IBS issues practically every other day and it was affecting my life because I was spending at least two hours in the bathroom every single day.

So starting in January 2024, I tried a new diet. And for the first time in forever, all my IBS symptoms went away. Like, gone. Like, I wasn't fully conscious of my digestive system every hour of the day anymore.

Now, as far as I know, LilBro is not on this diet (not that I talk to him or have gotten all the details from MLH), but he has incorporated a lot of keto-ish type ways of eating into his life, which are similar to the diet I was doing last year. And he's apparently watched enough stuff about the diet that I was on, that he now believes it would be quite healing for our mother.

And suddenly, as if the skies opened and the rays of God's light have shone upon him, MotherLivelyHeart now believes this diet could help her.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

I recommended this diet before I even tried it myself.

I recommended it when I first started it and started feeling better.

I recommended it when I had to go off of it.

And I've recommended it every so often when she's complained about foods affecting her or her medical condition getting worse.

I've said "what do you have to lose?"

I've said "you can just try it for a month or two and if it does nothing, just go back to eating whatever."

I've said "it's really not as hard as you think."

And EVERY F****ING TIME she has given me excuse after excuse and keeps complaining about how much pain she's in.

I'm not saying the diet is a total savior.

I'm not saying all of her problems will go away.

But what could it hurt?

And at one point she basically told me to stop even mentioning it because it was something she'd never be trying.

AND GUESS WHO IS RESEARCHING IT THIS VERY MINUTE BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO START IT IN LIKE A WEEK.

BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE WITH HER CONDITIONS HAVE FELT BETTER AND REDUCED THEIR PAIN.

AND SHE'S LITERALLY WATCHING VIDEOS ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW.

I guess it only matters when goldenboy mentions it to her.

I've had the same experience when it comes to work stuff. Jobs/gigs that she wants to try. Anything I recommend, she gives me push back or needs my help sooooo much. But he says the same damn thing and it's all sunshine and roses and "yeah, I can do this."

Why do I even try?

Why do I waste my breath?

I see my friends with husbands and kids doing the whole wife and mom thing and I literally don't know how/if I'd ever have the energy for any of it. I'm so drained just dealing with my own mother.

Unfortunately, parenting your parents does not come with the nachas of raising children.

It's just exhausting.

-LivelyHeart

[entering--hyperspace]

5, 9 and 14 on the romantic asks for Ryt/Leo!

5. Is the relationship living up to their initial expectations?

Kinda???.....mostly bc I dont think their expectations were really that grand to begin with due to the nature of legion charr relationships. Theyre still together though, so in that sense their expectation of being together is there LMAO.

9. How do they feel about each other's exes and people who flirt with them? Is jealousy an issue in general?

Ill start with the jucier one.

Rytlock does get jealous, noticably, if he and Leo are at a bar and Leo gets hit on. This happened a lot earlier in their relationship when nothing was official so he had less of an actual horse in that race but usually could give the pursuer some sort of Look to drive them away. At its Worse it was during PoF where they like didnt breakup but were pretty seperated...Especially bc Leo made it a point to seek company elsewhere and the jealousy stemmed from both the idea And the fact he was losing Leo. Losing his partner and realizing he had fucked up Yet Again with someone and it was a mixture of self disdain, jealousy, anger, sadness, all in one extremely angsty package. And not even in the sexual/romantic aspect, even just Leo going off and talking about the war effort with other people when usually it wouldve been with Rytlock.During the less intense times I do think Rytlock experiences maybe a slightly above normal amount of jealousy when it comes to the romantic/sexual admirers, bc I think that kind of fits someone who had struggled with low self-esteem n has a whole thing about Proving others wrong and having a sort of machismo mask bc of it. But its not something thats Overt or an actual serious issue. Leo doesnt have any actual exes so thats another thing.

Leo, on the other hand, doesnt experience jealousy when it comes to pursuers of Rytlock at all. He knows the culture he comes from, he knows Rytlock's high status, of there would be people seeking him, especially given Rytlock has multiple kids, its just whatever to him. The jealousy he does experience is in regard to those kids and having that shared experience of parenthood. He just cant provide any real solace that in the way others can, and he cannot even bring himself to ever want biological children bc of charr culture anyway. So the jealousy comes from partially wanting to help but not being able to, and knowing having a biological cub in the legions is something he wouldnt be able to handle.

How does Leo get along with Crecia? Great! I mean, Leo doesnt care for the entire exes thing, he just genuinely gets along with Crecia exceptionally well bc theyre similar in drive + are both very business first. Its actually a little funny. Maybe rytlock has a type idk. But any other possible ex it really just is on an individual level, leo doesnt have any problem with the ex part. Also very funny considering Rytlock was nervous about leo and crecia interacting bc of that but then like, they just teamed up and he now had 2 wives yelling in his ears about everything or leo having them Both bicker in HIS ears while trying to do work. Extremely amusing times in ibs

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK

14 is here!

[saltwaterembolism]

diseases i think izzy hands has:

bisexual

transgender

lactose intolerant

ibs

autism (moderate to severe social impairment)

selected by the narrative to cause problems

girl (in a fag way)

boy (in a dog way)

cptsd

narcicisstic personality disorder

former theatre kid

giant tits. just some honkin badongas

back pain

tummy pain

hip pain

fucked up posture

small dog syndrome

sopping wet shivering chihuahua syndrome

sometimes he gets this thing where he wakes up and he can't move at all til this shooting pain in his abdomen stops but then hes fine so he doesnt think about it

my specialest little meow meow princess babygirl syndrome

hypothermia or whatever it is that makes you cold all the time

subclinical ocd

chronic loneliness and social ostracisation

50s valium housewife

favourite person has a new favourite person and its not him

8 months testosterone

haunted uterus

eating before youtube was invented

food poisoning

blood poisoning

mold poisoning

all of them at the same time btw comorbidly and also mutually exclusively. hes just a guy sorry he doesnt have the forsight to know that hes in a narrative that needs to "make " "sense"

[salanaii]

Learn Korean with me - Week 21 - 5.26.25

Emotions

Korean Journal Entry Prompt - How are you feeling about your studies?

Let’s Speak Korean

Ch 16 – Emotions

정말기뻐요.

Jeong mar gi bbeo yo

I’m really happy.

좋은 생각이에요!

Juh eun saeng gag I e yo

That’s a great idea!

훌륭합니다.

Hur ryung hab ni da

It’s fabulous.

화났어요?

Hwa nass eo yo

Literal – Do you have anger?

= Are you upset?

많이화났어요.

Manh I hwa nass eo yo

Literal – I have a lot of anger.

= I’m very angry.

짜증나요.

Jja jeung na yo

Literal – I have irritation.

= I’m really irritated.

열받았어요.

Yeor bad ass eo yo

Literal – I’ve received heat.

= I’m pissed.

안심이됩니다.

An sim I doeb ni da

That’s a relief.

눌랍군요!

Nur rib gun yo

Incredible! / Amazing!

농담이죠?

Nong dam I jyo

Literal – It’s a joke, right?

= You are kidding me, right?

장난하지마세요.

Jang nan ha ji ma se yo

Literal – Please do not play with me.

= Quit playing.

믿을 수없어

Mad eur su eobs eo

I can’t believe it!

환상적이네요!

Hwan sang jeog I ne yo

It’s fantastic!

멋질 거예요!

Meos jir geo ye yo

It will be cool!

진짜예요?

Jin jja ye yo

Literal – Is it real?

= For real?

진심인가요?

Jin sim in ga yo

Literal – Is it (your) true intentions?

= Are you serious?

흥미진진하네요.

Heung mi jin jin ha ne yo

That’s exciting!

끔찍해!

Ggeum jjig hae

That’s awful!

창피해!

Chang pi hae

 What a shame!

이제제발그만해!

I je je bar geu man hae

Please stop now!

매우불쾌하네요.

Mae u bur koae ha ne yo

I’m extremely unhappy.

슬퍼요.

Seur peo yo

I’m sad.

정말 비참하네요.

Jeong mar bi cham ha ne yo

It’s really miserable.

기분이별로좋지않아요.

Gi bun I byeor ro joh ji anh a yo

Literal – (My) feelings are not especially good.

= I’m not in a good mood.

기분이 좋아요.

Gi bun I joh a yo

Literal – (My) feelings are good.

= I’m feeling good.

우울하네요.

U ur ha ne yo

I feel down.

실망이에요.

Sir mang I e yo

Literal – It’s a disappointment.

= I’m disappointed.

당신에게실망했어요.

Dang sin e ge sir mang haess eo yo

I’m disappointed in you.

애석하네요.

Ae seog ha ne yo

That’s a pity.

저런,안됐네요.

Jeo reon, an doaess ne yo

Oh my, that’s too bad.

운이 나빴어요.

Un I nab bass eo yo

Literal – Luck was bad.

= That was unlucky.

그 말을 들으니 유감입니다.

Gei mar eur deur eu ni yu gam ib ni da

Literal – I’m sorry to hear that saying.

= I’m sorry to hear that.

저는 당신 편이에요.

Jeo neun dang sin pyeon I e yo

I am (on) your side.

실망하지 마세요.

Sir mang ha ji ma se yo

Don’t be disappointed.

무슨 일이지요?

Mu seun ir I ji yo

What is the matter?

뭐가잘못되었나요?

Mwo ga jir mos doe eoss na yo

Is there anything wrong?

괜찮아요?

Gwaen chanh a yo

Are you okay?  Is It okay?

걱정하지 마세요.

Geog Jeong ha ji ma se yo

Don’t worry.

무엇 때문에 걱정이세요?

Mu eos ddae mun e geog Jeong I se yo

Literal -Because of what are you concerned?

= What’s bothering you?

무슨문게있나요?

Mu seun mun ge iss na yo

Is there any problems?

빨리해졀하시기를바래요.

Bbar ri hae jyeor ha si gi reur bar ae yo

Literal – I hope for you resolving (it) soon.

대단히감사합니다.

Dae dan hi gam sa hab ni da

Thank you very much.

���든것에감사드려요.

Mo deun geos e gam sa deu ryeo yo

Thank you for everything.

도와주셔서감사합니다.

Do wa ju syeo seo gam sa hab ni da

Thank you for helping me.

저에게큰도움어주셨어요.

Jeo e ge feun do um eo ju syeoss eo yo

You’ve been a great help to me.

초대해주셔서감사합니다.

Cho dae hae jus yeo se gam sa hab ni da

Thank you for inviting me.

고맙습니다.

Go mab seub ni da

Thank you.

정말친절하시네요.

Jeong mar chin jeor ha si ne yo

Literal – You are really kind.

= That’s very kind of you.

저야말로감사합니다.

Jeo ya mar ro gam sa hab ni da

Literal – It is ME who’s thankful.

= Thank YOU.

천만에요.

Cheon man e yo

You’re welcome.

미안합니다.

Mi an hab ni da

I’m sorry.

죄송합니다.

Joe song hab ni da

I apologize.

정말죄송합니다.

Jeong mar joe song hab ni da

I sincerely apologize.

정말미안합니다.

Jeong mar mi an hab ni da

I’m really sorry.

늦어서죄송합니다.

Neuj eo seo joe song hab ni da

I’m sorry for being late.

기다리게해서죄송해요.

Gi da rig e hae seo joe song hab ni da

I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.

제실수예요.

Je sir su ye yo

It’s my mistake.

제실수를사과드립니다.

Je sir su reur sa gwa deu rib ni da

I apologize (for) my mistake.

너무시끄럽게해서죄송합니다.

Neo mu si geu reob ge hae seo joe song hab ni da

I apologize for being too loud/noisy.

그런의도가아니었어요.

Geu reon ui do ga a ni eoss eo yo

Literal – It was not such intention.

= That was not my intention.

당연하죠!

Dang yeon ha jyo

Of course!

물론이죠!

Mur ron I jyo

Absolutely!

미쳤어요?

Mi chyeoss eoyo

Are you crazy?

정신나갔어요?

Jeong sin nag ass eo yo

Literal – Did (your) mind go out?

= Are you out of your mind?

화내지마세요.

Hwa nae ji ma se yo

Don’t get upset.

무서워요.

Mu seo wo yo

It’s scary. / You’re scary.

너무웃겨요.

Neo mu us gyeo yo

It’s too funny.

정말재밌어요.

Jeong mar jae miss eo yo

It’s really fun.

마음이아파요.

Ma eum I a pa yo

Literal – (My) mind aches / hurts.

= I’m heartbroken.

[onedollopofsourcream]

EMERGENCY 6/1/25

0/63 please keep sharin imagine if this was your family especially think of my sister, who relies on meds for physical/mental health they arent optional

My sister needs her meds they are literally helping her stay sane, shes used them for over 5 years. She's been without them SIX DAYS she's going through bad withdrawal she has OCD, BPD thyroid problems, ibs, migraines also her meds also help with chronic pain as shes not in good health due these problems. I know ppl are sick of me but no choice for now. I'm feeding 7, two of them being kids, schools out so now all their meals must be covered by us too Please help us make it through this pls If 7 people could just pls donate $10 each id make my goal more quickly

p3ypal: avatarerin

c3sh app: $avatarpyler

v3nmo: skiesofperiwinkle

k0fi: onedollopofsourcream