#there is just No in between with English teachers

[nordickies]

what's your headcanon human names for all 5 of them? :0

I think the Nordics have used various names throughout history! But they're probably all just variations of the same "base name," which has just changed with culture and current trends to keep up with the times.

Denmark: Magnus / Magni, Mange, Magne Magnus ("great") is a latinised version of the Old Norse name Magni ("mighty"). Various Scandinavian kings have been named Magnus, so the name has long been associated with the region. Mange is a Swedish nickname for Magnus, and Magne could be Denmark's alternative alias if he needs one Sweden: Björn / Bernwald Björn ("bear") is an Old Norse name still popular in Sweden. Perhaps in the Middle Ages, he may have used the name Bernwald ("bear" + "ruler") to fit in better with the German-speaking estates of society and have more of an international reach. Because his name means "bear," he can be teasingly referred to as Nalle, Bamse, or Baddi, all meaning "teddy bear" Norway: Sigurd / Sigurðr, Siward, Sjur Sigurd is a younger form of the Old Norse name Sigurðr ("victory"+ "guardian"), perhaps most notably associated with the Germanic legend of the dragon slayer. Siward is the English equivalent of the name. Sjur is the shortened form of the name Sigurd, so it may be his alternative alias Finland: Timo / Väinö, Väinämö Timo is a Finnish version of the name Timotheos ("honoring God") and perhaps a name he had to pick for himself after the introduction of Christianity. I like the idea of Väinö ("calmly flowing river") being his former first name and present middle name since it has the same origin as his canon surname Iceland: Eiríkur / Eiríkr, Erik Eiríkur is an Icelandic name, the younger form of the Old Norse name Eiríkr ("forever rich/powerful"). When in contact with outsiders, his name probably got simplified as Erik

Their surnames are not set in stone, and I rarely find myself needing them anyway. I don't think the Nordics would feel quite as attached to their surnames, as surnames in Nordic countries have traditionally been patronyms (and these guys don't have families in the traditional sense). Perhaps back in the olden days, the "surnames" they introduced themselves with were based on what was the most fitting and useful in a given situation - making up family associations, basing it off of their profession, or picking a surname based on where they lived (southern farm, northern bay, etc). But nowadays, they probably have preferred surnames they use for symbolic reasons; like Iceland going by "Ingólfsson" (based on Ingólfur Arnarson, the assumed first permanent settler of Iceland) or Denmark preferring the name "Andersen" to be associated with the most famous Danish author

Plus, I feel like their country names are actually more like honorary titles, and they don't really use them between each other (unless it's a nickname, like Sve, etc.). It's very much their culture. Nordic people tend to call their bosses, teachers, doctors, etc., by their first names, too. It's probably based on the cultural belief that this makes people more equal and cancels social hierarchy (Jante Law effect), so I have a hard time seeing the Nordic using honorary titles between friends and family

[mumms-the-word]

i think 'groomed' in the mystra context is a little bit like 'groomed to become a leader' in the sense of being prepared for a role. the elements of a huge power imbalance and manipulation make that negative where it could've been a positive thing. so instead, 'gale was groomed to become mystra's chosen' becomes 'gale is groomed to die due to his folly'. not getting into the pitfalls of being a chosen, but that's how i see it mostly. i suppose he was also a child at one point there and that then brings in the other definition. but mostly the former. i think.

That's another good and complicated facet in this complex issue! The difficult thing is everyone disagrees on the exact definition and parameters of Gale as a victim of grooming, if they believe that at all.

If you believe BG3 ignores 5e canon and Mystra revealed herself to him as a child, then it’s Child Grooming. If you believe she revealed herself when he was a late teen or young adult and was his mentor first, then it’s Teacher-Student Grooming. If you believe he was a consenting adult for most of their relationship, then you get a thorny kind of Adult Sexual/Emotional Grooming thing, which is extremely hard to pin down because we weren’t there to see all the details, and Gale isn’t being open about how much he consented at certain steps of his relationship with her. He may not even personally know how much he did or didn't consent himself, if he hasn't processed the trauma yet.

We can’t even agree on a timeline as a fandom. Of course we're not going to agree on a particular "brand" of grooming.

So it gets fuzzy, especially because no two “Gale was groomed” interpretations are the same, and that’s just among people who aren’t fighting over whether he was groomed.

The other difficult thing is that for most of the word's history (assuming "groom" was coined around the late 1700s), the use of “groom” as a verb meant either the care of an animal, plant, or location (grooming a horse, a cat grooming itself, grooming a lawn), or it meant personal hygiene (grooming your nails, your hair, etc), or it meant “to prepare a person for a role" without as many of the negative connotations (i.e., a politician grooming his successor, a situation where the person being groomed likely is consenting and finds no issue with the arrangement).

So, hate to say it, but there's a scenario where Gale could admit he was groomed--he was groomed to be Mystra's Chosen, a role he may have willingly walked into (kind of related to your point as well). That complicates the "Gale was groomed" narrative, doesn't it? Where does victimhood lie?

Apparently the term "grooming" didn’t have sexual connotations until around the 1980s.

Like not to be all Academic on Main but the Oxford English Dictionary, which tracks the (relative) earliest known uses for definitions, says the definition to prepare or coach a person for a career or role (paraphrased) has been around since the 1830s, while to gain the trust of and influence over a person for sexual abuse, exploitation, trafficking, drug-dealing, terrorism, etc (paraphrased) first came around 1984.

Granted the OED doesn't always find the exact first usage but the gap between 1830 and 1980 is pretty telling.

So this could not only be a language divide, but a generational divide. The concept of grooming as a sexually/emotionally predatory thing is pretty new by language standards. Most people playing BG3 would know the concept of grooming-as-predatory if they grew up in an English-speaking country, but at what point did they learn that definition? It will obviously vary.

These days it's a buzzword, thanks to all the shit coming out about Nickelodeon and child actors and celebrities and so on, so younger millennials and Gen-Z and beyond might be a bit more "trigger happy" about using the term than older millennials and others for whom the term is still relatively new and hard to grasp. Also, as completely different aside, I think people are quick to diagnose/label based on vibes, and that's part of the problem with all the fighting too, because how do you compare vibes?

Language is and always will be slippery. I guess in the end I just wish people would be more open about explaining why they go with a specific term, or why they disagree, without attacking people or completely dismissing whole narratives/arcs/experiences simply because it “doesn’t fit the definition.”

As a final related but side note, I think the biggest thing that bothers me about people erasing the Gale-as-grooming-victim is that it inevitably harms actual victims of grooming by insinuating that it's a scenario that could never possibly happen. But that has less to do with the weirdness of language and more about how people view trauma, abuse, and victimhood.

[mayhem-neverending]

As the Pendulum Swings

Hello! This is an active work that I was only posting on AO3, but thought it might be nice to share it here, too.

Gojo x reader, Geto x reader

Summary: As it turns out, Cursed Energy is not the only energy humans can manipulate. A foreign teacher turns the lives of her new coworkers and students upside down in the best ways possible - and completely by accident.

Word Count: 2,185

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, sexual themes, cursing, explicit content

Note: This is not a poly!fic, sorry. It will move between both Gojo and Geto.

The words spoken in English will be written in bold.

And the idea for this was very very very loosely based/inspired by the work of Carlos Castaneda and Dr. Joe Dispenza. Like, very loosely.

Hot blood seeped out of the large gash in your side and through your white shirt that had been wrapped tightly around your middle. It dripped to the ground between Nanami’s fingers, leaving a breadcrumb trail along the length of the hallway. You were nearly unconscious, your body fighting to keep from slipping into shock with every shallow breath you took. Nanami didn’t say a word as he kicked the door open and blinded you with bright white fluorescent lights. You hardly felt yourself being jostled when he set you down on a cold, hard surface.

The blood loss made it hard to register anything but dizziness and pain. The world appeared to you in a carousel of blurry colors and shadows and a loud ringing in your ears. You weren’t sure how much time passed when the world stopped spinning. Blinking up at the bright ceiling, you waited for it to tilt, but nothing happened. You mentally scanned your body and felt some sort of energy coursing through you, almost like electricity, centralized at the wound.

You turned your head to the right, and your eyes connected with soft brown ones. The woman smiled politely at you, and you followed her smile down her arms and to her hands that were placed over your wound, drying blood staining her fingertips. You vaguely took note that you were only in your sports bra. You followed the path back up to her face, your brain lagging behind as you tried to connect the dots.

“Hey,” the woman said softly. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Your head lolled back to center, and your eyes focused on a tile between two overhead lights. Brows furrowing, you tried to think back. How did I get here?

…

The day was unusually hot for September, with the temperature hitting the nineties and the humidity so high it was suffocating. It was the end of your third day teaching English at a junior high school in Tokyo, and you were leaving the school.

Your white button down stuck to your skin in the heat, and you pulled at your collar for some relief while you walked behind a group of kids to a nearby convenience store. The children seemed to be enjoying your class, despite their early teenage attitudes, so you felt like treating yourself to a popsicle before walking back to your hotel. You would spend your afternoon reviewing lesson plans for the next day before apartment hunting online, just as you had the past two days. You smiled a little to yourself, happy that you made the choice to teach abroad and learn about the world. It was almost inconceivable that you had made it this far, and for that you were proud.

You reached into the satchel slung over your shoulder for your phone. While digging around for it, a distinct lack of folders became all too apparent. You stopped on the sidewalk to take a thorough look at your bag, only to find your lesson plans missing. Sighing and shaking your head, you turned on your heel and headed back to the school. As you made your way upstairs to your second floor classroom, an intense feeling of dread washed over you. You paused mid step and felt the on the back of your neck rise. An involuntary shiver ran down your spin as you took the next step.

What the fuck is this?

You tried to brush off the feeling while scanning the area with squinted eyes. After a few seconds, you noticed a sort of purple haze - if that was the right word for it - floating around the top of the stairs. Apprehension flooded your system at the strange phenomena, but you needed your lesson plans, so you continued up the stairs. You took them two steps at a time, then took a right at the top. The purple haze was more concentrated at the end of the hall, and you felt a small sense of gratitude that your class was only three doors down.

You sprinted towards it, pulling your key out while doing so. You shoved your key into the lock and flung the door open. You slipped inside and shut it tightly behind you before scurrying to your desk. All of the papers were in their folders, so you shoved them in your satchel with shaky hands. Your ears perked at what sounded like loud shuffling towards the end of the hallway where the haze was. A sense of foreboding churned your gut and had your heart galloping in your chest. You listened closely to the noise, planning your escape for when it went quiet. After a couple tense minutes, it stopped, and you held your breath.

Maybe it was just a couple kids lagging behind and you were just acting crazy. That was plausible. Sighing out, you reluctantly stepped towards the door. Your feet felt like lead; you lifted them at a staggered pace, willing your body towards the wooden door. Once there, you took a running stance, muscles tensed to dart out the minute it was opened. You took the handle of the door and counted to three, telling yourself the whole time that you were overreacting.

On three, you ripped the door open and before you could even take a step, you were stopped dead in your tracks. What you saw was something you could never have prepared yourself for. A large, fleshy mass towered over you; it was covered in unblinking, bloodshot eyes and had at least three arms. Your blood ran cold and you made to scream, but no sound came out of your opened mouth.

It made a terrible warbling shriek that punctured the air and had you covering your ears. All of its eyes looked at you in what you could only describe as sinister amusement as it repeated the sound. You could hardly comprehend what was happening until it was two feet away from you. You hadn’t even seen it moving and now it was within arms reach.

Heavy thudding footsteps sounded from the stairs and a tiny bit of relief washed over you. Help is here. You thought. One of the arms reached out for you, but it stopped suddenly a few inches from your face. You gasped at the white-gold aura surrounding you. You had forgotten about that in the heat of the moment- you hadn’t even meant to activate it. It made an angry warbling that was cut short when a blade cut the beast in half.

You looked up at a tall blond man wearing some sort of protective goggles. He nodded to you, stepping over chunks of the creature. “Are you alright?” It took you a moment to find your voice. “What the fuck was that?”

His features changed minutely to indicate mild surprise. “Do you speak Japanese?”

You looked up at him with confusion before it clicked. “Oh, yes, sorry. I was asking what that was,”

“A curse. I’m surprised you can see it,” The man gave you a once-over with his eyes that made you feel as though he was looking right through you.

“What’s a curse, uh.. what‘s your name?”

“Nanami. A curse is-” He was interrupted by a massive rumbling that shook the building.

Cracks formed along the floor and walls and the hallway started to crumble as a massive Curse splintered through the floor. It immediately set its eyes on Nanami, and its hand came crashing down. It caused everything beneath your feet to come undone, and you fell through onto a new pile of rubble, a scream ripping from your throat as your side connected with a splintered joist.

You watched Nanami run up the Curse’s arm and use his wrapped blade to kill the damned thing while dark spots began clouding your vision. The rest was blurry, your mind fuzzy from pain while you were carried out of the rubble to who knows where.

You turned your head to look at the woman again. “Yeah, yeah I do,” you said hoarsely.

“Where am I?”

The woman gave you that same polite smile. “Jujutsu High. Before you ask, I’m kind of like the nurse here,”

You nodded once. Turning your head to the left, you saw that the blond man - Nanami, if you remembered correctly - was sitting on a metal chair against the wall, his arms crossed and gaze trained on you. His body language was closed off, and you wished you knew what he was thinking.

“I’m Ieiri Shoko, by the way. You are?”

“L/n y/n,” After a few moments of silence you asked, “How much of the school was destroyed?”

Nanami cleared his throat. “More than half. Another curse appeared shortly after you fell,”

Your mind was reeling from what had just happened, but a clear thought broke in to add to the gnawing anxiety pooling in your stomach. I’m likely out of a job. You were in Japan under a work permit to teach English as a second language, and you were expected to maintain your position if you didn’t want to be booted back to the states. In all reality, even if you wanted, you’d end up broke from the plane ticket home.

You brought a hand up to your face, tremors still running through it from your blood loss. “Shit,"

You watched Nanami open his mouth, but he was interrupted by the metal doors to the room banging open. A tall man with white hair and a black blindfold waltzed into the room, a wide smile adorning his face.

Nanami inhaled and grumbled, “Gojo,”

Ieiri took her hands from your side and slowly helped you to sit up, one hand on your back and the other gripping your hand. The tall man, Gojo, said, “Ah, Nanami, I heard that one was a grade higher than we anticipated,”

Nanami only nodded, a piece of his blond hair falling gracefully across his forehead. Gojo clapped his hands rather loudly and turned on his heel. He smiled in your direction and enthusiastically asked, “And who is this?”

You waved a little awkwardly, unsure if he could actually see you under that blindfold.

Nanami spoke for you. “This is L/n Y/n, a school teacher that got caught up with the Curse,”

Gojo took a step closer, his hands finding a place in his black pants pockets. “Oh? What do you teach?”

“English… though I’m not sure I’ll have a job after what just happened,”

He made a strangled noise in his throat. Before you could blink he was suddenly right in front of you, making you lean back and nearly gasp. He put his hands to his cheeks and hovered uncomfortably close to you, completely invading your personal space.

“Your accent is so cute!” he gushed.

“Uhm, thank you?” you leaned even further back.

Ieiri stepped in and pushed Gojo back with a firm hand against his chest. You shot her a grateful look and the corner of her lips twitched up.

“You’re a grown man, Gojo, you should know better than to invade someone’s personal space like that,”

He shrugged. “My bad,”

She shook her head at him and he waved her off. He held out a hand for you to shake, which you reciprocated. His large hand engulfed your own, and he said, “Cute!” to himself.

“Gojo Satoru,”

“Pleasure to meet you,”

Ieiri walked off and came back with a damp rag to wipe the blood from your side. You watched her and were shocked that there wasn’t a single mark left where your gaping injury had been. Gojo watched you curiously as you ran your fingers over the brand new skin.

“How?”

“It’s my reversed curse technique,” She said with a shrug, as if you knew anything about that.

She walked off without another word and you looked back to the man who was staring intently at you, bordering being in your personal space again. “You know,”

You raised a brow. “I’ve not really formally learned English,”

“I’m thinking-”

“That’s never a good idea,” Nanami interjected from behind him, now out of his seat.

He whipped his head around. “Rude!”

Looking back at you and leaning in, he said, “You should come teach here, since your school was blown up! I bet the students and the teachers could benefit, right Nanami?”

Nanami’s expression remained neutral as he said, “It could be,”

You glanced between the two men. You were feeling overwhelmed at everything that had happened in the last couple hours, and you didn’t know if this Gojo Satoru was helping or making it worse. You decided to just keep your mouth shut; your mind was running too wildly for your tongue to keep up.

“You can see Curses, right?” He asked you.

The way he inspected you behind the blindfold sent a shiver down your spine. You only nodded in response. He stood up straight and clapped his hands together once again. “You stay here, I’ll go talk to Yaga,”

“Gojo,” Nanami called, but the man was already halfway out the door.

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[omoghouls]

Working at the middle school today, wish mr luck babes🫡

[raindrvq]

god tiktokers cannot stand when u call them out for their lack of media literacy you try and explain why a lesbian song doesn't fit a mlm ship and they get so defensive 😭 like not everything is a personal attack on u bro

[lesbianseaweed]

I just remembered 13yo me made a school presentation abt Rebecca Sugar 😭

and I presented to the whole class

I had no shame

I'd do it again tbh

[everysongineverykey]

the legends of localization book has reawakened my love for the nuances of translation and now i REALLY wanna take all the undertale dialogue and narration and translate it into french. for funsies

[miodiodavinci]

taking a moment to add my two cents i think

[spark1edog]

another minor grammar pet peeve i have is people quoting quotes with quotes in them using double quotes for the quote e.g:

“so then i said “me running away with breadsticks” and everyone clapped”

rather than

“so then i said ‘me running away with breadsticks’ and everyone clapped”

[theinactivefaniguess]

Seeing Joel send Sausage the child they share custody of with 'something hard from other Daddy' is definitely not what I was expecting if I'm honest...

At this point I'm just waiting for Joel to send the child to Sausage with a goat horn and somehow make 'horny' work.

Minecraft players, everybody. Minecraft players.

[therighthandofvengeance]

getting to spend even just an hour doing nothing but reading Mira’s book was wonderful. Love Me More Than Anything in the World is captivating in a manner in which so few works are for me.

[drowsyanddazed]

just sorted through and counted my vinyls i have 243.. a frankly absurd number. bitches love me for my extensive vinyl collection xx

[professionalowl]

not reblogging the post because i know it's a flawed test (and infuriatingly poorly worded to wit) but the RAADS-R autism test is going around again and i got an 87, which is i think what i got the last time i took it and also tracks - i'm personally pretty certain that i'm not autistic, but (autistic) friends of mine have historically been split on the issue because apparently i 'act' like an autistic person and they're often surprised when i say i'm actually not

[porto-rosso]

on the UK unit in my comparative government course and its a little funny almost? how hard it is for some of the people in class to wrap their heads around the north/south divide

[seawitchkaraoke]

So when does french actually use "on"? I was taught back in school that it's equivalent to the german "man" which we basically use as a passive third passive singular kinda like "one shouldn't do that" (which obviously english doesn't use much but it exists)

But I'm now doing the duolingo french course from english and there they consistently translate "on" with "we". In some sentences both versions make sense, but I just got "Ils savent qu'on va en Australie" which the english translation "they know we're going to Australia" makes sense but the translation I learned back in school for this would be smth like "they know, one goes to Australia" (or "sie wissen, dass man nach Australien geht*)

Which.... Is a completely different meaning that doesn't make a lot of sense like "one goes to Australia"? What? Is that just a common thing one does? Would only make sense for like, idk if this is about middle class germans doing a gap year after high school, bc yeah sure there going to Australia sure is a common thing to do

But if my french teacher was wrong and it's actually always "we" then... When do I use "nous" and when "on"?

Languages are confusing and I am doing three way translations here trying to make sense of everything, it's hard lmao