#and im like. ALL of that information is incorrect first of all

[br1ghtestlight]

we dont actually know where linda and gayle grew up we just know that it was NOT seymour's bay and that its likely an hour or two drive away from where they currently live (I like to think that gayle moved to seymour's bay after linda did because she wanted to be like her big sister lmao)

their hometown is specifically called Hunkawtaway which is apparently a play on native american appropriated town names in the midwest so I think she most likely didn't grow up in new jersery but still somewhere in that general area of america (like connecticut or massachusetts)

for bob I would say he grew up in the area surrounding seymour's bay but not actually IN seymour's bay because its a small-ish town and we don't ever see big bob's diner around. I would say they live maybe a 30 to 45 minute drive away from big bob (who still lives where bob grew up) so still definitely in new jersery but maybe somewhere closer to the bog habour area??

we know they both didn't grow up in seymour's bay as they never went to wagstaff or huxley high school (but it seems like at one point they were maybe considering that bob and linda went to the same high school, because the original subplot for linda's high school reunion episode was going to be someone from BOBS high school who had a crush on him was trying to flirt with him at their reunion. this got changed when they realized that bob and linda obviously didnt go to the same high school growing up) but I think bob definitely lived closer to their current location that linda did. they most likely moved to seymour's bay when they saw a resturant location in the area renting for very cheap and previously lived closer to bog harbour

(and we know that teddy has a long family history specifically in seymour's bay)

[illbegottenfaith]

ferrari

as part of a social visit, you spend a fortnight at an English politician's estate with his god-awful son (politician's son!theo x american socialite!reader)

a/n - this fic took sooo long im so excited to publish it!!! also im such a sucker for the trope where one half of a couple is THE most insidious hater with absolutely no chill but then halfway through they start feeling like...why's the other person kinda........hmmmmmmm (p.s. this started off inspired by the song by the neighbourhood but idk if i would call this a songfic ehehe enjoyy)

tropes/warnings - enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fluff/banter, mildly british-phobic, incorrect descriptions of ferraris as manual (god i researched too much about ferraris against my will also i apologise for the inconsistencies car/f1 girlies)

word count - 5.8k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

A car.

A yellow car.

A bright, disgusting, honest-to-god canary yellow Ferrari was peeling into the driveway at the ungodly hour of a quarter to 7 in the morning.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Most of yesterday had passed in an exhausting blur, given how jet-lagged you were, but this took the cake. You blinked, opening your eyes further. The car was still there, as loud and insecurely showy as it had been at first glance.

Perhaps your eyes hadn't adjusted to the English countryside gloom. Yes, that had to be it. You were sure that in proper daylight, the car would appear a luxurious cream, or perhaps even an elegant taupe.

Once you had dressed and crept downstairs, shivering in the early morning chill that blanketed the vast estate, a butler informed you that Master Nott would be down shortly to join you for breakfast. But it wasn't the genteel, elderly man that had welcomed you and your father the day before that walked in.

"Apologies for my absence yesterday," said the man walking towards the breakfast table, fiddling with a button. "I hope my father wasn't too boring. I was occupied with some other business. Theodore Nott. Junior."

He stuck out a hand at the last bit, and you eyed it with a restrained distaste. Perhaps it was just the cynic in you, but something about his demeanour felt politically calibrated to dazzle you. The apple clearly didn't fall far from the tree - Theo Nott Jr. was every bit his father's son. However, this Theodore appeared more charismatic and charming, whereas his father seemed more reserved and cordial.

And yet, there was something untrustworthy about his smile. What kind of business did he occupy himself with?

"So, Theodore," you asked as you buttered a piece of toast, "what do you like to do for pleasure?"

"Nothing much out of the ordinary - golfing, collecting art, skiing. I enjoy a good holiday every now and then."

Your lips quirked a little at that. Calling it 'a little holiday every now and then' was putting it lightly, you decided. Theodore Nott Jr. had a reputation that could easily rival any of your more scandalous counterparts. It seemed like all he did was travel, jet-setting from one location to the next, finding ever-brilliant ways of dragging his father's name in the mud. Given his father's staunch refusal to comment on his son's debaucherous behaviours, you guessed there was no love lost between the two.

"Oh, and cars," Theo continued obliviously. "I do like cars."

You placed your toast down, frowning.

"Your business yesterday. It wouldn't have had anything to do with that...you know...the yellow..." you trailed off, motioning with the butter knife.

Theo looked surprised. The mildly curious look on his face felt miles more genuine than his unscrupulous smile just minutes ago. The curve of his lips hinted at something - like a smile, but not quite.

"Your bedroom does overlook the driveway, doesn't it? But yes - I was in town yesterday afternoon to pick up my new car." Misreading your curiosity as interest, he probed further. "Why? Do you like it?"

You thought back to the grotesquely gleaming vehicle. You barely held back from pulling an unbecoming face.

"Car is...a strong word for that monstrosity."

Theo's lips parted, giving you the impression that he had a dozen replies on the tip of his tongue, but no voice for any of them.

"Well. You Americans have the strangest ways of describing classics."

You raised your eyebrows. "Classic? Little Women is a classic. That...is a Colleen Hoover book at best."

Theo watched you curiously, uncomprehending.

"What? You're not up to date on contemporary unfeminist literature?"

From the blank look on his face, the quip was clearly lost on him. Merlin, was he going to be this slow the entire visit?

"When Father mentioned contacting a translator, I assumed he was having a laugh," the boy said, prying open a tiny jar of honey. "Now, I'm not so sure."

The two of you endured a painfully awkward meal and you excused yourself at the first available opportunity, taking care not to seem overly eager to leave the room. Behind you, you heard a faint clink of china and a muttered, sardonic echo.

"Monstrosity."

You didn’t intend to play. That much you wanted to make perfectly clear.

After spending the morning occupied with other business, Theodore's father had invited you and your father for afternoon tea and a game of lawn polo with Theo and his friends - all carefully groomed hedges and intimidatingly pressed uniforms. You had been under the mistaken assumption that you'd be on the watching end of things. When Theo invited you to join the game, you offered a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm afraid I didn't pack any riding clothes," you said apologetically. It was true, you hadn't, but your worries had more to do with the fact that you hadn't ridden since you were 12.

Theo turned towards you, his hair sun-tousled with a sly slant to his eyes that promised nothing good for you.

“Whatever you’re wearing now is more than fine.”

You looked down at your blouse and loose linen trousers, uncertain.

"Unless, of course," he continued, dropping his voice, "you don't feel up for the game?"

You glanced up, reading the challenge in his words. He was goading you, and you knew better than to fall for it. But you just couldn't stand the idea of him holding this over your head, subtly or otherwise, for the rest of your visit. And so, as utterly infuriating as it was, you took the bait - hook, line, and sinker.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered through clenched teeth, taking the helmet he held out for you.

And so you awkwardly mounted a dapple-grey gelding under the watchful eye of yours and Theo's fathers, pretending you weren’t one misplaced pebble away from sliding off your horse, face-first. Theo carelessly introduced his friends from boarding school - Mattheo Riddle and Blaise Zabini. They waved at you good-naturedly, and you nervously smiled back. They seemed friendly enough, but then again, so had Theo.

The game started fast - faster than you were comfortable with, if you were being completely honest. Within minutes, you were hopelessly lost while Theo, unsurprisingly, was in his element. He rode like he’d been riding all his life, and he probably had - back straight, jaw tight, eyes narrowed with something more intense than friendly competition. Meanwhile, you struggled to keep up, your hands slick with sweat on the reins.

Theo whirled past you on his stallion, calling over his shoulder, “Next time, try aiming for the ball.”

The others laughed, well-mannered, while Theo smirked with a special kind of malice, as if he were all too aware of the heat crawling up your neck. You smiled through it, chin high, your thoughts drifting to violent fantasies of bashing his perfectly sculpted face in with your mallet.

He wasn’t just fast; he was precise. Every time you neared the ball, he was there, cutting you off with easy, practiced turns or thundering by close enough to rattle you. Not enough to technically break the rules, but enough to make you painfully aware of how out of your depth you were.

At some point, the teasing and missteps began to chip away at your carefully composed expression. Your lips thinned. Your jaw locked. The linen blouse that once felt effortlessly chic now clung to your back.

You glanced around the lawn irritably when one of his friends caught your eye from across the field. Blaise, if you remembered correctly. He gave the subtlest flick of his wrist, adjusting the way he held his mallet. You mirrored him instinctively, and almost immediately, your wrist felt less strained. Stunned, you shot him an appreciative look.

A few minutes later, Mattheo came riding up beside you at a slower pace, his horse snorting softly.

“Alright, New York?” he asked with a lazy grin.

That piqued your attention. Although you currently lived in LA, it wasn't exactly common knowledge that you were born and brought up in New York City. Still, you weren't sure how much you could trust either of them. They were Theo's friends, after all.

“Just peachy,” you replied coolly.

He leaned a little closer, and you felt mildly jealous and how effortless he made it seem.

“You know, Theo only acts like this when he really hates someone.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Or,” he added casually, as he gathered his reins in one hand, “when he really likes them.”

The implication hit only after he had steered his horse away. You blinked, before seizing your own reins with a newfound determination. Whatever game Theo thought he was playing, you weren’t about to let him win it.

With your grip improved and your instincts finally catching up, you started anticipating the ball's path. Your swings grew sharper, more confident. You manoeuvred around Theo once, twice, three times.

At the final play, it was all heat and desire for vengeance. You galloped forward, timing your swing just as the ball veered to the left. Your mallet connected with a satisfying crack, sending it cleanly rolling between the makeshift goal posts.

The applause was courteous but audible; your father's a little more effusive than was strictly polite.

You trotted past Theo, heart still pounding, your smile flushed and wicked.

His face remained as impassive as marble. “There are less showy ways to win, you know” he said, voice neutral.

You leaned in. “But hardly half as satisfying.”

You dismounted and handed off your reins to a stablehand, still floating on the high of your victory.

“A play like that deserves its own prize,” Nott Sr. said with faux formality. “Perhaps a small trophy. Or a drink named after you in the club lounge.”

You nodded graciously, murmuring something demure.

But your eyes flicked to Theo as he dismounted a few paces away. His jaw was tight. His shoulders tense. The bad-tempered flick of his brow as he handed off his helmet was the clearest reaction you’d seen all day.

And, if you were being completely honest, that little crack in his perfectly constructed exterior was the best trophy you could’ve asked for.

"Bored out of your skull, aren't you?"

You jumped, startled from where you had been resting your head for a brief shut-eye. This afternoon, the Notts were hosting you, your father, and some Ministry officials at an art gallery. With considerable effort, you lasted about half an hour before you excused yourself to the car outside Even now you had to contend with a humidity that made your hair stick to the back of your neck. It had been drizzling incessantly since morning, introducing a dampness to everything.

"Understandably so," Theo continued in a smug tone that made you kick yourself for letting him catch you unawares. "It's all a little dry for me, and I grew up with this stuff."

You straightened in the passenger seat, resisting the urge to nervously fix your hair, smoothing out whatever scrap of dignity you had left.

"I don't know what you're talking about. The tour was highly intriguing. I was just in here looking for my...my sunglasses." You peered into the glove compartment. What had left your lips as a fib was now becoming a rather real problem, actually - where were your sunglasses? You were too distracted to notice Theo climbing into the driver's seat beside you until the door shut. You closed the glove box, defeated, thinking hard about where you last saw them.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked. "Or - what would that be for you? Dollar for your thoughts?"

"Cent."

"Are you sure? With these exchange rates?"

For what felt like the hundredth time since the beginning of your trip, you shot Theo a dirty look. Not that it seemed to upset him.

"Nice weather we're having," he tried again.

You shrugged, glancing up at the clouded skies. "I guess. Does it never get fully dry here?"

You regretted opening your mouth as soon as you saw the ill-disguised amusement on his face. Clearly, you had just said something wilfully ignorant of the place. It wasn't your fault. Who had the time to vacation in dreary old England when the rest of Europe seemed so warm, colourful and dry?

"'Fraid so. You must understand, we're quite a bit of ways from Californ-yuh."

You grimaced.

"Was that your attempt at an American accent?"

Theo grinned. You had been around your fair share of good-looking people, but when Theo smiled - genuinely smiled, full of mirth or adolescent mischief - it almost hurt to look at his beautiful face.

If only didn't come attached with that insufferable personality.

"Come on. It wasn't that bad."

"It didn't even sound like English."

"It did - and what's more, that is exactly what you sound like."

You gasped, appalled. This miscreant was supposed to be the well-bred progeny of an English Ministry official? The mocking and teasing you could put up with, but outright insults were where you drew the line.

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"Is - " you stopped yourself, giving Theo a dirty look. He looked hardly apologetic; if anything, he seemed awfully pleased with himself for successfully having roped you in some inane, childish spat.

"You know what? You're right. The day's wasted just sitting around."

Theo didn’t wait for you to respond. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life.

You froze.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you for a spin," he said casually, as if it were nothing. “You clearly need to get out more, get some fresh air in those lungs.”

"The hell I do - Theodore, no."

But he was already reversing, one hand on the wheel, the other behind the passenger seat headrest. The car jerked at a hard turn, gravel spitting beneath the tires. A moment later, he punched it forward, the sudden acceleration slamming you back against the seat.

“I am not dying in a British clown car,” you hissed with a white-knuckled grip on the door handle.

Theo didn’t even look at you. “It’s Italian,” he said smoothly, switching gears like it was muscle memory. “And she likes to be pushed.”

He turned towards you, peering over his sunglasses with his startlingly dull eyes.

"Though I have to warn you, if you insult my car again, I'm not above leaving you at the side of the road."

You could barely process the words before he was tearing down a narrow country road, weaving between bends. The hedges blurred into a smear of green. Your stomach lurched with every curve he barely braked for, the car swinging wide, tires shrieking with every corner he turned too fast.

“You're a lunatic!” you shouted, clutching your seatbelt, as the speedometer soared past any sane number.

“And you’re too uptight,” he said coolly, shifting gears with a little flourish. “But here we are.”

The tires skidded slightly as he made another turn. Raindrops streaked the windshield. Your fingers frantically fumbled along the seat. Seatbelt. Seatbelt.

“Jesus - Theo - SLOW DOWN.”

But he didn’t. If anything, the Ferrari sped up, surging forward like it had something to prove.

You felt it in your chest, in your teeth, adrenaline flooding your veins. Your heart was beating so fast it hurt.

“I swear to God, if you kill me—”

“Oh, I’d never. Imagine the paperwork.” His smile widened as the road narrowed. “Besides, this car is worth considerably more than your life.”

“You are such an asshole.”

Theo clicked his tongue, entirely unbothered. “Language,” he rebuked. “Bit unladylike, don’t you think?”

You'd have had your hands around his neck by now if he wasn't the one driving this death trap machine. Your stomach flipped as the car surged forward again. The car lifted slightly as it hit a bump, just enough for your breath to catch in your throat. When it slammed back down, you swore you felt your bones rattle.

“This isn’t fun,” you said, voice ragged.

“Not for you, maybe.” Theo downshifted just to hear the engine snarl. You were going to throw up. Or pass out. Or both.

All of a sudden, you felt the car slowing down. You looked up, dizzy with relief, just as Theo slowed to a stop outside the gallery. He looked invigorated by the ride, and also as though he was trying not to laugh. Delicately, he pulled down the sunglasses that you had stuck in your hair earlier that morning.

"Found them," he said, far too cheerfully.

But you were at your limit. You finally snapped.

You stepped out of the car on wobbly legs, slamming it closed just as your father and a couple of Ministry officials were exiting the gallery.

"Which way to the estate?" You asked crossly, interrupting their conversation. Your father looked between yours and Theo's faces, alarmed.

"What h- "

"Which. Way. to the estate."

Your father hesitated in his reply, clearly appalled by your bright red face. Or perhaps the state your hair was in.

"That way. But Y/N, honey, if you take one of the cars - "

"I'm walking."

"All the way back, darling?" he asked fretfully. "At least let Theodore drive you."

This was clearly the wrong thing to have said, if your aggravated shriek was any indication. You gracelessly turned and started walking back to the manor, uncaring of the scene you were making. And as for Theo -

Well. You didn't care to even spare him a glance.

"It was awful, Vee. He's awful. He just does whatever he wants whenever he wants, consequences be damned." You were lying on your room's window seat, fresh out of a shower after the hike back, talking to a friend on the phone while staring hatefully out the window at the blissfully peaceful sprawling grounds. Stupid England and its stupid politicians and their stupid sons and its stupid mud.

Your gaze drifted sorrowfully towards your boots, which hadn't survived the walk home. "And Daddy calls me spoiled," you sniffled.

You heard a familiar crunch of gravel and looked out to see a disgustingly familiar car pulling in. You glared at it as Theo killed the engine and stepped out. You watched him scan the exterior, presumably counting windows until he met your gaze. He waved at you, motioning for you to come downstairs. For a moment, you indulged in the fantasy of flipping him off and drawing your curtains.

"What?" You started crossly as you walked out to the porch, still too peeved to even pretend at civility.

Theo just tilted his head, leaning against the car, eyes hidden behind his sleek, rectangular shades. "You know, I don't think I've seen you smile once your whole trip. Is everyone in America always this discontent?"

"I don't know. Is everyone in England always this unpleasant?"

Theo had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Touché."

He cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. Prick. He probably liked the idea of you having to tilt your head upwards just to look him in the eye.

"I really am sorry about this afternoon. It's just - sometimes there's no stopping me when I really get going. Especially if it has anything to do with my father."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "So that's it? I'm just a pawn for you to use to get back at your dad?"

"No, that's not - " Theo ran a hand through his rougishly dishevelled hair. He took a deep breath.

"Let me start over. My behaviour has been...rude, and disrespectful, and you didn't deserve any of it. So..."

Theo turned and picked something up from the passenger seat - a navy blue, velvet box. You eyed it skeptically.

"What's this?"

"Peace offering."

You stared at the box for a while before you caved in out of curiosity. You grudgingly accepted the box and opened it. You felt your mouth go dry. Nestled in the thick, rich fabric was the most delicate, exquisite set of diamond earrings you had ever seen. They glittered as if in slow motion in the late afternoon sun. This was no American brand - Cartier, perhaps?

"Truce?"

Your head snapped up, and you remembered why you were here, and who you were talking to. You traced part of the earrings' outline longingly. Damn. With diamonds like these, he could have a truce and then some.

"Yeah. I mean, fine. Truce, I guess," you stammered out disinterestedly, trying to hide how the gift had rendered you speechless.

You had specific tastes. You didn't shop excessively but precisely. It was why you could never take to a personal shopper - no one seemed to understand your tastes or preferences as well as you did yourself. Until today, that is.

With considerable difficulty, you shut the box. After all, it would be rude to reject such an expensive gift. You didn't even know if they did returns in this part of Europe. Why should you begrudge yourself such a fine piece of jewellery just because he decided to be an ass?

"Is that all?"

"Mostly. How did your boots hold up?"

You stayed resolutely silent, but something on your face must have given it away. Theo wrinkled his nose sympathetically. "Thought so. We have a cobbler a little way in the town. I can drop them off for you, if you'd like. They should be done by the time I get back."

"Back?"

It was only then that you noticed the trunk propped up in the backseat of the car.

"I'm visiting Normandy for a few days."

You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed but not surprised. "Didn't you just get back from Italy?"

"This one's more of a house call. Speaking of, I really should get a move on." "So, your boots?"

You hesitated. These were your Manolo Blahniks. Your babies. Could you really trust a man as vile as he was with them? Then again, it didn't look like they could get much worse.

While you deliberated, Theo rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Keep your boots. Just wait for the mud to dry and then brush it off. That should get most of it."

With that, he stepped back into the car and fastened his seat belt. He looked up to where you were still staring at him mistrustfully.

"Well, I'm off. Feel free to direct some of that snark towards my father while I'm gone."

You numbly watched him reverse out the gate and turn into the main streets, the gift weighing heavily on your mind.

You hadn't anticipated how quiet the manor could be without Theo. Did he really occupy so much space that the manor felt incomprehensibly vast and cold without him? You whiled away your days at dinners and luncheons and how you usually occupied yourself on these kinds of alien social vists, but it just wasn't the same without anyone your age. You were starting to get so bored, it almost felt like you were beginning to miss him.

It was almost a week since you last saw Theo. You were in your room, making plans to go into town, when you glimpsed a figure near the perimeter of the estate's front lawn. You opened your window. There was something familiar about the carelessly sun-kissed crop of curls.

Looking closer, you realised you were right. You didn't know he was back, but it was most certainly Theodore Nott in the black suit - Merlin, that had to be uncomfortably warm - glinting cufflinks, purposeful stride. He looked stiffly formal in a way you’d never seen him. Polished and imposing with his usual languid gait replaced by something far more measured.

Theo's gaze drifted up the estate until his eyes met yours. You leaned against the windowsill and gave him a look, brow arched, lips parted, and he...nothing. Theo had absolutely no reaction to you. His eyes were on yours, but it was as though he was seeing straight through you. Just a tiny, barely there tick in his jaw before he looked away.

That was when you noticed the foreign dignitary following closely behind, dressed as sharply as Theo. You propped your chin up on your hand, watching with renewed interest. Ah. Hosting, are we?

Really, he only had himself to blame for you turning it into a little game. He should have known it would be dull as tomes without him. Every time his gaze wandered towards you, voluntarily or otherwise, you waved brightly, blew him a kiss or two, and the like, all while he did his best to keep a straight face and look away.

His posture changed. Stiffened. A flick of his shoulder. A twitch of the hand. A slight turn of his head as if fighting the urge to look again. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek. At one point, he even coughed. This all only further encouraged you.

Eventually, Theo turned away from you fully, his mouth moving as he muttered something to the dignitary. His face was mostly hidden now, but not before you caught the faintest curve of a smile biting into his cheek.

Victory.

You watched them retreat to the cool indoors. You stayed at the window watching the stray sprigs of dandelions toss their heads in the faint breeze until you ran out of patience. You hurried downstairs, determined to vex him for being away for so long. Theo apparently had a similar idea and you nearly ran smack into him as you turned the corner on the spiral stairs.

"How was Normandy?" you asked in a breathless rush, his hand warm at your elbow.

"Terribly pleasant without you constantly looking down on everything." Up close, he looked a little more bronze, a little more rosy than when you last saw him. Or maybe that had to do with him running up the stairs.

The hand Theo had stuck out to stop you from running into him had regrettably fallen. "Mother sends gifts." Then, as if his body couldn't physically handle being nice to you, he added, "Clearly, she's never met you."

Your lips twitched. "Clearly."

You let Theo lead you down to the living room, where there was no dignitary but only a fabulous spread of French cheeses, smiling at him prettily as he somewhat sarcastically offered you a seat. You took a sip of the wine he poured you, watching him pretend not to watch you back. The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon lazily picking at the variety of French cheeses Theo had brought home, talking about any and everything under the sun, from his trip to the summer camps you used to go to.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were back," you said an hour later, when the two of you were beginning to run out of things to talk about.

Theo gave an exaggerated wince as he refilled your glass. "Please. I came here straight from the jet, I promise you."

You rolled your eyes.

"Well, next time, you can tell your mother that I loved the - er, hang on...fromage de bois?"

"What?"

Theo sat up, watching your mouth intently. Your face was starting to feel a little hot, probably from all the wine.

"Say that again?"

You cleared your throat. "Um, fromage de bois?"

Theo shook his head. "Again."

You repeated yourself a little haltingly. French had never been your strong suit. Theo stared at you, brow furrowed, mystified.

"You are doing strange and unusual things with that tongue of yours...and none of it is right." He looked enthralled. Fascinated. Tipsy. You rolled your eyes. "Your accent is...in a word, abysmal."

You nibbled at the cheese you apparently couldn't pronounce right. "Sorry, Mr. Intercontinentally Educated. Some of us have to contend with the Ivy League legacies we were born into."

Theo busied himself with another wheel of cheese. You thought back to the foreign dignitary from that afternoon.

"I thought you didn't do your father any favours," you asked. It was a risky topic to broach, but you could always blame it on the wine.

Theo chewed for a long while.

"Usually, I don't."

"But?"

"But my mother thinks I should be less hard on him."

"Oh."

"And I think she's starting to forget what he's like."

Theo dusted his hands with a wry smile before reaching over you towards the crackers, broad-shouldered, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. Too late, the thought to lean back crossed your mind, but by then Theo was already back in his seat, turning over the empty dish and eyeing you with mock disapproval.

"Someone's finished all the crackers."

You smiled innocently, crumbling the few crackers left in your hand as you watched him call for more.

It was your last night at the estate. There's no place like home, but it saddened you to leave this quaint slice of English countryside in the middle of nowhere. You were curled up on your window seat, trying to focus on a book you weren’t actually reading. You should have gone to bed hours ago, but something was keeping you up.

You were so sure he'd show up. One last time. Just for you.

You finally snapped your book shut, admitting defeat, and swung your legs into bed with a sigh. Then, you heard it - the low, unmistakable growl of a stupidly expensive sports car.

You hurried over to your window, shivering with anticipation. There Theo was, dressed down in a soft black sweater and slacks, leaning against that yellow Ferrari. You never doubted him for a second.

You padded downstairs with ill-disguised excitement.

"I'm here for your big send-off."

You raised your eyebrows. "Send-off?"

"Yeah. What kind of host would I be if I didn't give you the right send-off?"

Your eyebrows disappeared into your hair. The levels of hypocrisy of this man were astounding.

"You left the country for a week while we were here. Or have you forgotten?"

Theo was starting to look annoyed.

"Do you want a big send-off or not?"

"...okay."

You were in the passenger seat for barely ten minutes, cruising through narrow, moonlit country lanes, before Theo pulled into an empty side road.

You blinked at him. Maybe you trusted him too much, too quickly. Was this how you died?

“Why are we stopping?”

Theo walked over to your side of the car, opened the door and held out the keys. You eyed them distastefully.

"Please don't tell me you're giving me the car. Respect for other people's property is the only thing stopping me from driving this off a cliff."

"I'm not giving it to you," he said, as your fingers curled uncertainly around the metal. You relaxed.

"I'm teaching you how to drive it."

You laughed. Then stopped laughing.

“You’re serious?”

You were glad it was the middle of the night with nobody around, because you were gaping at him rather unbecomingly.

"Dr - drive this? Are you crazy?"

"I'm picking up a pattern here. I'm starting to think you have a very low bar for insanity."

"This cannot be legal. You guys don't even drive on the right side of the road here."

"Relax. I'll walk you through it."

And so, Theo eventually wheedled you into getting into the driver's seat, fastening your seatbelt and switching on the engine.

"Okay, so, foot goes on the brake, hands on the wheel - " For a moment, Theo's large warm hands enveloped yours, pulling them up to 10 and 2, and you felt your heart flutter. " - and, try not to kill us, yeah?"

You shot him a glare. "You're so funny," you deadpanned.

Theo grinned. You wiped the smile right off his face as the car lurched forward, nearly concussing him on the dashboard.

"Gentle, gentle," he wheezed.

The drive that followed was a mixture of cautious lurches and unexpected smooth patches. Theo’s instructions were teasing but not unkind. He guided you through each shift, each turn, with his voice low and amused. At one point, when you stalled the car trying to reverse out of a hedgerow, you noticed his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. You gave him the silent treatment for five blocks until he effusively and somewhat mockingly apologised.

When the two of you had had enough excitement for one night, Theo gave you directions back to the estate. Even in pitch dark, Theo knew the network of roads surrounding his family home like the back of his hand.

You pull into the driveway and kill the engine. A deafening silence settles over the two of you.

"So? How was I?"

Theo takes his time responding. "You did better than I expected."

You make a show of twirling your hair. "So you think I'm a natural."

Theo's oddly quiet. You can't make out his expression in the shadows.

"I think you're something," he says quietly. He leans forward enough for his expression to take shape in a sliver of moonlight. You feel your heart hammering in your chest.

All of a sudden, you don't want to go up to your room, knock out, and leave in the morning. You want to sit here in this god-awful Ferrari with Theo and his windswept hair and his bedroom eyes and the look on his face like he really wanted to kiss you.

"Theodore - "

"My friends call me Teddy," he murmurs, barely managing to force the words out before his mouth covers yours.

It’s not careful or practiced like most things Theo does. It’s a little desperate, a little clumsy - like he’s scared to hesitate. His hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as he tilts his head slightly, deepening it enough to make you blush with the intimacy of it.

When he pulls back, just enough to breathe, his forehead rests against yours. You can feel how uneven his breathing is. How unsure.

You blink at him, stunned.

"Your friends don't call you Teddy."

Theo laughs shakily, and you realise that that isn't the most sensible reaction. For the first time in your trip, you laugh with him.

"What? You think I'm some idiot that doesn't notice what your friends call you?"

"You're right. They don't," Theo agrees with a breathless laugh. His breathing evens out. "But I was hoping you might."

You shake your head slightly, feeling a flush creeping up your neck.

"I can't believe I ever thought you were cool. You're so lame."

"And yet," he says softly, nudging his nose against yours, "you still haven't run for the hills."

You don’t answer. You don’t move. Not for a long, long while.

[diejager]

just hear me out for one second.... what if hunter was a titan?... yk like aot (attack on titan)

reader looks totally normal, nothing indicating that they were something other than human. Even laswell wasnt 100% sure on what reader was. A stirring mystery within 141 that they all collectively decide to ignore.

then one day, they were out on a mission that was going horribly, horribly wrong.. incorrect information, sabotage, dangerous illegal weapons, low ammunition, scarce supplies, severe injuries, etc.. you name it.

141 was backed into a corner. definitely not the first time something like this has happened in their career...but they always manage to find a way out. Always making it back home, injured sure- but safe..alive.

this time it wasn't the case. there was no way out, none. death was knocking on the door and soon they had to answer.....

and unfortunately reader was the first to greet death.. a clean shot to the head by a sniper

one minute reader was laying in a pool of their own blood and the next they turn into this gigantic humanoid beast.

in a fit of rage, reader starts to completely destroy the battlefield. not a damn soul alive besides 141.

bodies scattered from the sea to the forest and heavens above ..nothing but pure gore and blood.

reader standing over the battlefield bloodied from head to toe, watching the devastation below.

(This is really long im sorry)

Cw: implied death, blood and gore, Canon-typical violence, titan!reader, gun violence?, tell me if I missed any.

The last thing Horangi remembered hearing through the angered hisses and growls, Price screaming at Laswell and her informants through the coms to find a way out their thick predicament was the shuddering shot that boomed through the air. The hair of his arms raised when he watched you turn towards the sound, your wide eyes and choked breath. You flinched back and lurched forward, hands grasping at your bleeding throat, choking and gurgling on the blood that rose from your wound. He rushed to pull you into cover, biting his lip at your pained expression, you were choking on your blood, dying by the thing that substained you, that cycled life and oxygen through your body. 

Your words were sputtered, splattered crimson on Horangi’s mask as he fussed over you, your pinched brows and scrunched nose, the angered gleam in your dulling eyes and your bloody and sneering lips. You pushed him away, stumbling forward with one step at a time, risking being shot a second and third time, but you kept marching away from them, ignoring their attempt to stop you and reach for you. 

“B- bast- ard-!” He heard you screech.

He didn’t know if some God or Gods favoured you or if you were extremely lucky for still being alive, a second bullet landing by your feet and a third scratching your arm. You raised a bloody hand, palm facing you, the crease and groves of every fold a dark red, then you bit down on it. Hard. He admired the strength behind your bite, the crunch of your skin breaking under your teeth and red exploding, he could only imagine how painful it was, but you were already in so much agony, your body’s probably numb. 

And suddenly, lighting sparked around you, bright yellow and loud, scarily close to you before one thick and dangerous one struck where you stood. Within seconds, he gaped at the mass of muscles, red fibres interlocking and sticking to ligaments and fat that kept it together, tying themselves to bone and tendons, wrapping away the red and white with a wide array of red and blue, building a system of veins that were finally covered by skin. In your place was a giant —a titan, one that he’d heard through the grapevines of black markets and hushed whispered and rumours from the underworld when he gambled his life away. 

The titan - you - let out a loud scream, head thrown back and arms reeling back, fingers clenched in anger, deep sated vitriol that carried you around them. He could only stare on in amazement as you trampled over the surrounding enemies, bending down to grip a man, your thick fingers clenching around him and squeezing the life out of him, leaving his entrails spilling out of his broken abdomen. You moved around stepping and squeezing them to death, a trail of carnage behind you, bodies strewed about, spines broken and heads rolling. 

He let you go on without a word, his breath stolen away by you when you slumped over, your nape breaking open with a loud hiss, steam billowing up the air from how hot your body ran, you arched out, body curled backward with a loud sigh. Horangi stared at you, unmoving and unbreathing, and only moved when Price rushed to you, climbing your titan body to pull the rest of you out, your arms and lower body still attached to it by thick, red muscle. Your feet stuttered, eyes blinking tiredly while you leaned on Price, groaning and rubbing the tension out of your temples. 

He realised the blood that was supposed to stain your skin and clothes were gone, evaporated in the heat of it. Your wound healed and energy spent, you were tired and grumbling about wanting to sleep, face pinched in irritation or annoyance, something he could feel. And without any complaints from them, Price had called for evac and waited at the LZ, everyone huddled around you, sharing the same amount of awe and surprise in their expression. You were a wonder to him, a beast of legends that Horangi had only heard of, but he had many, many questions and curiosities that he wanted fulfilled.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[sanzaibian]

“Sir, here are the Beatty files.” The young woman told me, handing a USB key.

I have heard a lot about these files. They were intercepted in the town after which they’re named by the secret services a while ago, but were encrypted in such a puzzling way that only now can we view them. And of course, I am the first one to be able to review its content.

I know a lot of things, as it is my job to be informed of anything and everything happening around the world. I know the plans of China over Taiwan, the successor to the Ayatollah, the contents of the talks between Putin and Kim Jong-un, and all the current US military strategy. In my line of work, everything can happen, yet at no single point could I make sense of the Beatty files. Nor could anyone else for that matter.

I excused the young woman, bidding to her my thanks for the deciphering team, and went to the unused laptop I had prepared. When it comes to matters of national security, I cannot afford to be careless, and let anyone unlicensed to get access to this. So brand new laptop, created by us, which has never been opened, to open these files.

And so I fiddled with the parameters a bit, entering the secret code, and inserted the USB key to view its contents. Inside were a few files, all of which videos. Their names were not informative, since I know for a fact that their original names were not recovered, so I just opened the first file in the list.

The video opened looking down in a white cubic room, meaning it was very likely a security camera recording. In addition, there was the time indicated on the bottom right, yet something felt weird about how it was displayed… 15:58… 15:59… 15:60 ???... 16:01, etc. Why is it not counting time correctly ? Nobody indicates time like this ! It’s wrong, it’s incorrect ! I just opened it and there’s already something I cannot in any way explain !

Taking a deep breath, I look at the center of the screen, in which I have a good view of a man sat in a chair. He has tanned skin, black hair and black stubble, and a very developed musculature. He looks to be a very attractive middle-eastern man, although I cannot say which ethnicity he precisely has.

The chair he’s sitting on is quite massive, and he looks almost as if he is… restrained in it ? Yes, there seems to be little handcuffs tethering him to the armchairs. But most striking are the numerous tubes going out from his arms, legs, torso and even head, linked to some types of medical appliances I cannot recognize, as well as to a sort of glass tank.

Suddenly, I notice the deep voice of a man. I up the volume, and hear… a language I cannot understand.

“Tzai en 19/03, 2:17, en tzoujkbruoi odogattzion program en Scipio Labratory. Ny hse Hk. Adtem, tzai widt nyn hskadiais, Sjd. Fingtrosy ÿ Sd. Vagohs, ÿ naum wom fill no tzoujketvÿsn ekspÿrians widt no #1073 bymarjen.”

At first I get some German vibes from it, but then it seems to be Polish, and then French… Whatever that language might be, it is not one I have ever heard. The man in the chair looks around, seemingly half-dazed, as if he was drugged. I don’t know what will happen to him, yet I get the feeling that it won’t be a desirable fate.

Suddenly, another voice, that of a woman by the looks of things, speaking in that same strange language.

“Hsüzmalhsÿv drël en im.”

Then a buzzer sound. There seems to be some white substance flowing inside the man’s body, through the tubes from the medical appliances. As it flows, I can see his eyes starting to become more droopy, before fluttering, and then closing. At the same time, his body starts floundering in the restraints, as if he was keeping himself from falling asleep. But as time went on and the white liquid ran dry, all of his muscles were relaxing and his stance become limp, like that of a dysfunctional robot. However, looking at his accelerating breathing rhythm, it seems to my trained eye that he is not actually asleep. It’s only his body refusing to function correctly.

“Drël ingkatzt. Etvÿsn harjimÿll.” Says another voice, deeper than the last one, but not as deep as the first one.

I don’t really know what’s happening. If the counter on the bottom-right of the screen wasn’t ticking up, I would have thought that the image was frozen. But then, suddenly, I can hear a low sound in the recording. And that sounds starts creeping higher and higher, as if something was charging up… Yeah, definitively charging up, since I almost saw some lightning sparks going off from the chair…

I don’t know what’s happening, but it seems to be malfunctioning. The sparks make themselves more and more intense, and it almost seems as if the machine is ready to explode...

Just as I say that, the first deep voice makes itself heard once again, but this time more in a frustrated or worried tone than an official one.

“Sel heont havy… Go huop sel hstill pÿrdont...”

But suddenly, the sparks stop, and while the sound doesn’t stop, beige liquid start flowing into the pipes… from the man to the tank ? What is that thing ? I don’t understand ! However, I can hear cries of rejoice in the audience, with all three voices I’ve heard since then saying incomprehensible stuff that I wouldn’t even be able to transcribe. I guess they also didn’t think… whatever this is would work ?

I take a drink from my water bottle as I keep an eye on the video. However, since I need to reach my bag, I cannot actively monitor it. Besides, according to what I hear, nothing of note seems to be happening... But when I have put down the bottle, I stop the video. I rub my eyes, but even then, I still see it.

The man seems smaller.

Somehow.

I go back in the video to the time where the man with the deepest voice sounded worried and… Yeah, looking like that, it’s even more apparent. The man has been losing mass. And the tanks have been filled by this beige skin-color liquid… Heh, if I didn’t know I was in reality, I would have said that this is muscle-juice, but this is ridiculous…

Especially since the body mass hasn’t been the only thing to change.

As I play back the video and continue through the long haul of high-pitch noise and not much else, I notice that the man’s stubble seems to be disappearing… and his head hair growing as well, somehow ? It almost seems as if he’s becoming less masculine by the second, if it even makes any sense, even though nothing about this video actually makesanysense. If I didn’t know who supplied it to me, I would have said this was a fake…

As his pecs were shrinking, his arms were thinning, his waist narrowing and his legs slimming, his stance almost seemed to be relaxing further – if it’s even possible. I mean, I don’t know ! It’s just the impression that I’m getting ! As the last of his stubble vanishes, at least according to what I can see through the pixels, he almost seems to be getting cuter ? Whence more relaxed ? Fuck, this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever…

Oh. I know why I get this impression. It’s not anymore weird or nonsensical, but at least in this context it seems to make sense… I think he also is losing height. Yes, actually. Height. It’s almost as if someone took the textbook definition of a “twink” and decided to impart its characteristic on this poor fellow – don’t ask me why I know what it is.

As I continue watching in horror, the woman’s voice says, gleefully :

“Entzony as hen !”

How can they sound so… happy ? Happy to torture a man like this ? To, quite visibly, drain his muscles into those tanks that look more and more full ? It just goes beyond me ! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen my fair share of horrible and unethical treatments, and a ton of unethical human experiments. But this by far takes the cake of the most disturbing thing I have ever seen ! They’re taking away what he is, his identity ! Him ! That’s the most cruel violation of human rights I have ever seen ! To gleefully disfigure someone like that…

The tanks have finished filling up, and the sound starts lowering in intensity. The man left looks only like a shadow of who he was. He still looks like himself, except devoid of any… meat, may I say ? When the machine was well and truly turned off, the deep voice rejoiced, seemingly announcing the success of that terrible plot.

“Fÿstyfuroll ! Oll fod havy kotzvong !”

Funnily enough, the first word made me think of “feast for all”, which just feels wrong given the context. On that, they all seem to have left the premises, as a nurse came in and untethered the poor man from all the equipment, and taking with her the tanks filled of muscle juice.

I continued watching, hoping that I would get to see the young man wake up.

And wake up he did, looking around, before standing up… and immediately falling. Presumably due to him not expecting to be this skinny. He then looked at himself, and had an utterly horrified look in his eyes, as if he was processing the fact that he was irremediably different.

He crawled towards the wall, and using that, he climbed back to standing, managing to take a position so that he could be looking at the camera.

And on that, the video suddenly stopped, leaving me on this freeze frame :

I absolutely don’t know what to do with that. Now I not only understand, but also feel how confused the secret services were by intercepting this message. It just seems wrong in so many ways, so much that… it might not even have occurred on Earth for all I know ! The language is unknown, but familiar. The way to count time is disturbing, but otherwise identical to ours. The events depicted are of typical mad experimentation, but in a manner that is unthinkable in my knowledge of the world.

I don’t have the strength to view any of the other videos, since they’re likely all the same amount of disturbing. So I close the laptop, and already starts asking myself the question I need to give an answer for my superiors :

Just what the hell are the Beatty files ?!

[last-flight-of-fancy]

hi hello i hope you don't mind but Special Interest Infodump Mode has been activated please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times-

this explanation comes to us courtesy of Dark Road! You know, that cutesy little mobile game where literally the whole cast except the two protagonists dies. This is on brand bc the explanation has it's own fridge horror levels to it if i think too hard about it tbh.

So, worlds have hearts. We've known this since KH1, seen what happens to a world that loses its heart, and how they can be affected. It's rarely been expounded on beyond that however, aside vague allusions to the titular Kingdom Hearts being/harboring the Heart of All Worlds.

(which has. other implications now that i think about it but that's stepping into theorising territory. im sorry im trying really hard to stay on track honest)

fast forward to Dark Road, where we have a bunch of kids venturing out into the worlds for the first time, and as such have to have things explained to them (and thus the audience). NOW i will note here that KH looooooves unreliable narrators and characters imparting incorrect information without knowing it, so there is always the possibility that this could later turn out to be wrong, but currently I see no reason this would be the case and thus for now i feel safe in taking their words at face value unless otherwise contradicted.

Why are there no people? Because each world is alive, and after the Keyblade War sundering THE World into MANY Worlds, each needed to recover and restore what was lost; life, time, movement.

This bit here is important, bc as a result

All of this is the direct result of the Keyblade War of old. Even after so much time, the bits of worlds are *still* recovering, and I do think there's something to be said about how like... the repition between worlds and their apparent stagnation often *stops* after Sora visits them. I don't think it's because Sora's special(tm), but rather just because of who he is; the Dark Road kids are told never to interfere, and as a result the worlds they visit that Sora also visits later are exactly the same to Sora as they were 80+ years before.

But when Sora visits the same world only a short time after his first visit, things CHANGE. Hercules' story moves forward, Simba is having a crisis about being king, Jack Skellington has learned his lesson about Christmas and is on to new shenanigans. And that's only in kh2! in kh3 we see Twilight Town fill with people, barren Olympus expands into a full town (and there's more there too with BBS and how the Wayfinder Trio may have been Olympus' start towards restoring itself completely, and Sora's later arrival more speeding things along)

my point here is *connections*, which is a consistant and overarching theme of the series. Empty worlds are baby worlds, still healing and restoring from being broken away from the rest, and what helps along that healing? Being connected to others.

Which is to say that the keyblade weilder's doctrine of 'do not interfere' while most certainly well-intentioned (as Dark Road also points out, one persons darkness is anothers light, and morality is not a solid truth across worlds, so interfering is risky at best and dangerous at worst), the flip side to this is that without being connected, without that ''interferance'', the world's restoration stagnates and struggles. It will still get there eventually (the Tangled world seems to be doing alright for example), but chances are it might've been a little easier/faster if someone had done a little interfering.

tldr keyblade war broke the worlds and reset them all to zero. As the worlds heal time stops until it's People finally pop back into existance and their stories can resume. And that's how the invisible crowds in early kh games are canon.

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

as a japanese learner, im curious what the experience of memorizing all the different ways to read the same kanji is for a native speaker ? im currently learning about all the different ways to count things and ive never had to take so many notes about anything in my entire life lmao, its hard but its also fun

First of all, I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying learning Japanese! 😆 The Japanese way of counting things is obviously very hard to remember! It's often cited by Japanese people as a typical example of the unreasonableness of the Japanese language: When counting long objects such as sticks or rope, the particle "本(hon)" is used, but when written in kanji, it will be like "一本(1)," "二本(2)," "三本(3)", but they are read as "ippon," "nihon," and "sanbon," respectively. Even though they all use the same kanji! 😅 (This is probably what you're studying, right?) Even native speakers cannot explain this regularity, but I'd be happy if you found this kind of unreason interesting. :)

Regarding the question of what kind of experience it is for native speakers to learn different readings of the same kanji, I think native speakers often know the word by sound first, and later understand that "Ah, this kanji is used for this word. This may be something that can only be experienced through the listening of Japanese many times.

Also, although you may already know this information, it is actually possible to guess the reading of kanji by guessing.

For example, in the case of the kanji "枝(eda)" used in Nagito's surname:

In some cases, this is read as "shi" in some kanji compounds. For example, "枝(eda)" can be combined with the kanji "葉(ha)" in Yasuhiro's surname.

If you combine the kanji "枝(eda)" and "葉(ha)", it will be "枝葉(shiyo / shiyou)". The word "枝(eda)" means "branch" and "葉(ha)" means "leaf," but when both are combined to form the word "枝葉(shiyo)," it means "non-major or non-essential things.

I think the reading "葉(yo)" is unfortunately reading you have to memorise it, but as for "枝(shi)", it's a reading that can be guessed. This is because the kanji "支", one of the parts used in the kanji "枝(eda)", is read as "shi".

For On reading* of kanji, the reading of the parts composing the kanji is often used in this way. If native speakers encounter a kanji they do not know how to read, they use this rule to predict the reading. (*Kanji has two general readings: Kun reading and On reading. In the case of "枝", "eda" is Kun reading and "shi" is On reading.)

For example, a slightly more difficult kanji than "枝" is "肢," which is also read as "shi". This is a kanji means the branched parts of the body, mostly the limbs.

Thus, as long as you learn the basic kanji that are used as parts of other kanji, you will be able to read them by guessing rather than by memorizing them. 😄

You may already know or be aware of this: "支" means something that is branched. A similar example is the kanji "岐", which means "forked road".

Now, after reading all of this, you might think: "Wow, kanji is very easy to understand! And the reading of this kanji must also be "shi"! 😄

...Unfortunately, it is not that easy, and that is the complication with Kanji. Actually, the kanji "岐" is read as "ki".

Native Japanese speakers often fall into this trap as well! 😅

In most cases, the only way to read kanji correctly is to memorize it, but if we don't know it, we try to guess the reading from the parts. But this is just a matter of luck, and it often fails. 😭

However, as I showed earlier in the picture, kanji is something that can already convey meaning by its shape. So even native speakers often encounter kanji that they are not sure how to read, but they may guess that it probably means something like this from the parts and ignore what the reading is.

Even between native speakers, the other person may be speaking with an incorrect reading, but it can also be guessed by imagining the parts used for the kanji. For example, there is a kanji compound "分岐" that is correctly read as "bunki," but suppose the person I am talking to reads it as "bunshi. Even in such a case, I can think that the person probably thought it was "分岐" because the character for "岐" has a kanji part "支," so the person read it as "bunshi. (Most of the time I will point out the misreading to the person, but sometimes I will just ignore it because I can understand what they were trying to tell me.)

The same is true for the same kanji with different readings. For example, the kanji compound "枝葉(shiyo)" introduced earlier can actually be read as "edaha," but in that case it simply means tree branches and leaves. So it is one of those kanji compounds that uses the same kanji but has a different meaning when read differently. But even if you didn't know that it should be read as "shiyo," I don't think you'd have much trouble, because I think you'd be able to understand the meaning of the sentence in which that compound is used based on the image of the kanji.

In conclusion, even for native speakers, it is difficult to memorize how to read each kanji. In most cases, we know at least one basic reading for basic kanji, but rarely do we know all the other different readings. So we often try to read it somehow by guessing from the parts the kanji uses. And as a result, we often get it wrong. 😅 But I think we can guess what they are trying to say from different aspects of each other, so I don't think we care too much.

Hmmm. I think Japanese is a pretty lax language, but maybe the Japanese are lax too! My explanation has gone off on many tangents, but I hope you continue to enjoy learning Japanese. 💖

[cherryrikis]

BETTER LUCK TOMORROW - one ! the first contact

pairing : nishimura riki x reader

synopsis : after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, you (as well as your friends), were framed for the death of your brother and disappearance of your boyfriend. you all had no hope. no job, no money, none of you were even allowed to graduate. at least, until a stubborn kid on a dance scholarship suddenly acts as your savior, riki helps clear your name all for the sake of a school project.

this episode contains the following : mentions of murder/killing, incorrect description of the american legal system but this is fiction so that’s ok, mention of jail/juvie

previous | masterlist | next

“hello? is this mr. kwon?” riki asked hesitantly once the phone stopped ringing, signaling the other caller had picked up.

“yeah, this is that kid jungwon right?”

jungwon snorted out loud, a little too loud as riki slapped a hand over his mouth in response.

“this is actually riki, riki nishimura. i’m a senior at the academy. but-” “it’s actually the two of us, mr. kwon. im jungwon yang.” jungwon interrupted, ignoring riki’s annoyed glare which screamed ‘since when did you want to be part of the interview?’

“okay?” soonyoung went silent, other than clearing his throat, which seemed to go on for a while. “just call me soonyoung.. uhm, why do you guys want to know about the lee-park case? this was a pretty heavy event.”

“actually, we knew the three involved personally. heeseung lee and jay park were our childhood friends up until, you know. that day. but this is really for my senior project. we just want.. closure?” riki informed.

“sorry for your loss. not to be insensitive, but especially knowing it was lee’s own sister who’d be the cause of his demise must’ve been hard.” soonyoung sighed as if it was nothing.

the two stared at each other for a quick moment, giving each other a knowing look before turning back to the phone.

“so just to get into it, are you okay with this interview being recorded and transcribed, especially in the event of these audio clips possibly being publicized?” jungwon questioned in advance, as he had his audio recorder in hand.

“i don’t see why not. but if you do publish any of this information, just leave my name out of-.”

the audio stopped playing as riki sat on top of the device, causing jungwon to gasp.

“riki! just- just let me listen to the tape so i can transcribe this. go outside.” he huffed, pushing the other out of the room.

[2024.9.20 - soonyoung kwon interview : contact #1]

RIKI : why were you certain yn was guilty, and what helped you determine this?

SOONYOUNG : well, the writings on the wall, no? at least 28% of murders in america are by someone close to you. two people dead but they just so happen to be her brother and boyfriend? that’s already suspicious. not to mention she was one of the last people to see either of them alive.

RIKI : do you believe heeseung and jay were innocent ‘victims’?

SOONYOUNG : of course i do, and you should too. especially as one of their friends.

RIKI : that’s off the record.

JUNGWON : why do you think they were innocent?

SOONYOUNG : well, they were unsuspecting victims. they led a good life im sure. but i don’t believe anyone is killed for no reason. i just believe that if they were killed for a reason, it was more yn’s fault than theirs.

JUNGWON : sounds like you’re biased against her. so, do you believe yn lee should’ve been tried as an adult?

SOONYOUNG : i do. she was charged with second degree murder, and she only got juvie? she had just turned 17 that year, (in 2021), which is already close to 18. i say the case called for an adult trial.

SOONYOUNG : i heard lee just got out a few weeks ago. personally, 3 years wasn’t enough. yn lee should’ve just been transported to an actual jail once she turned 18.

RIKI : is yn innocent?

SOONYOUNG : well, now you’re just starting to piss me off.

SOONYOUNG : if that’s what you’re trying to prove from this project, i suggest you tread carefully. stupid questions like these can get you into a lot of trouble if you ask the wrong person.

[ 5:46 of 5:46 recording ]

taglist ! @jiiyen @prettiestgirlontheplanet @hannicorpse @wonsboo @murazbae @stilesks @soobinbunnie5 @blvengene @r1kification @gyuvision @goldenmellow @ariluvssssss100 @who-tf-soddhi @mmurazz @jaemified @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @heartheejake @hoonsdrnkdzd @wonkixo

[boraslus]

Melon x reader

¿Platonic?

A/N: Another Idea! I think of [Name] would like to annoy Melon (In his teacher part) when there's nothing much to do in the class and everyone is doing their own stuff while he do works. So what [Name] do is get his phone and take a picture or videos of [Name] itself, the class and Melon.

BUT [Name] accidentally leaking informations of students for Melon to take advantage.

A/N: If you noticed an incorrect grammar or confusion, pls comment and correct my grammar or mispelled words! I'll appreciate it!

Minor Warning:

Hc of Melon and [Name] had a good relationship

Something a bit off

Bad English

Let's act this is modern with teachers works in front of the class with their laptop

Interrupting Melon

Major Warning:

mentions of accidental Information leaks

Melon having an access to turn some students into a meal

Murder thoughts

3:20 pm

Everything seems a bit boring and bland, the class is a bit nosy as always while the other animals doing their own works — whether they're doing phones, homeworks, advanced review, gossiping to another and all that common stuff.

Your history mentor, Melon — is surprisingly calm about what's happening. The 1 hour discussion already have done and since he have 30 minutes left, before he dismissed the class he just sat there on his desk doing paperwork on laptop — Computing grades and checking if there are any errors.

While gazing on his phone beside his desk and some students are already outside of the class whether it's a group excusing to go to the bathroom, but they're just out there to grab some snacks and sharts. Which Melon really didn't mind since today, he's in a pretty chill mood despite his instincts might act on later.

Without hesitation you come in your way to get his attention, as always he's adorable when both of his eyes were closed or lightly squinted and with that mask he wore.

"Hey there our favorite History Prof. Can I see my grades now-" You interrupt.

"Wha- no, you can't. Also, privacy space please." Melon scolded you.

Acting like a responsible teacher and gave you that side eye look before he turns back to his work. As his clawed fingers tapped on the keys as he softly sighs, asking you.

"What do you want this time?" He huffs, as the hybrid Gazelle almost opened his eyes to roll it.

"Your phone." You answered honestly. "please, yes im polite I say the magic words all the time heh." You joked about it as you stood there.

That pretty pissed Melon off, if you were alone with him he won't be hesitating to smash you with his laptop and won't patch you up with medical kit.

"Goodluck trying to unlock the passcode on that, and don't you try to beg for me to open so you'd play games with it." Melon gave you a side eye threatening look before his eyes focused on his laptop again.

"You betcha." You snickered and snatched his phone.

Quickly opening the camera to take pictures of the busy class. Some students were thinking how are you this comfortable around the teacher or you were just that crazy. Before You took pictures of yourself and making lots of expression a lot on his cam.

"If my phone got it's storage full, I won't hesitate to drop kick you out of here." Melon commented.

You didn't mind and everyone thinks you're insane since it's unusual for a student to be that comfortable to their mentor. You keep playing around the phone and even interviewed some students how is their day, you have your first victims. Legoshi and Haru.

You basically just asked of how are they doing, what's make their hobbies interesting and mostly what are they passionate about.

"for some reason, I studied Rabbit Ecology to be wary of Haru." Legoshi said to you.

He talks more about how he can manage his both time and being part of the drama club.

Time goes by, almost everyone in the class you interviewed using Melon's phone until the battery runs out. Ohno.

"[Name]! Give me back my phone!" Melon demanded, it seems he have finished.

"Everyone attention here, I'll be now teaching the Societal Hypocrisy." Melon said to them seriously still maintaining his eyes squinted to not draw any attention of him being a hybrid.

"After this lesson, you guys going to have a short quiz and blame it on [Name]." Melon huffs and started the lesson.

Few animals glaring unto your way but that's just them being immature. You sighed and gave up his phone and just listen your way to the lesson.

"[Name], sit right in front."

5:55 pm

Everyonelse left the classroom now with a sour mood and so you do. After his yappity yap of lecturing you of not touching his phone ever again, though Melon is still on the faculty.

Swiping at whatever shit you did to his phone, it amused him but at the same time just realized how you're actually putting others to danger unintentionally. A dark thoughts of which student will be a good dinner either for him or the black market after those interviews you've hosted.

He worked on uploading it on Beast G-Drive to save those videos and photos to treassure — which made him smiled and sighs to himself of a long day with new memories.

[kaptainkassa]

cassian andor headcanons

notes: these are my personal hcs for cassian andor. just thought id share them because i never wrote them down before or anything aka;sfl;;

BACKGROUND

that man is AT LEAST 32

idgaf what a star war says he cannot be fucking 26 in rogue one

kenari was a matriarchal society

im probably incorrect but it seemed like there were more girls in the hunting troop he was in in the childhood flashback scenes

it's why he doesn't question vel being the leader of aldhani team or any female leader of a rebel mission. he's like yep that's normal.

also he was raised by maarva carassi andor like cmon

is still fluent in kenari

it's canon that he can speak other languages too so like polyglot!cassian yay

bee had the kenari language downloaded in his system before the empire wiped all public information about kenari

so he could communicate with cassian when he was first brought to ferrix

definitely helped bridge the language gap between the andors and cassian

also helped cassian learn basic

his culture is important to him for sure

i think in his spare time he tries to collect information about his home planet via old holobooks or even physical ones if he can find them

has kept his red and yellow stone necklace in a keepsake box for many years now, likes to take it out sometimes and just look at it.

his necklace connects him not only to his culture but to the few memories of his biological parents

doesn't remember his biological mother much but he remembers the sound of her bangles clinking together around her wrists and her smile

is a back sleeper. they slept in hammocks during his childhood and it's just something that always stuck with him

was definitely picked on at the sipo youth center

like fights in the recreational yard and kids trying to take whatever personal belongings he had on him at the moment

i think at first he kept to himself but over time he grew a small group of friends

safer in a group than on your own when going against the bigger gangs

youth center to military pipeline for sure

he would never see those friends again after the empire transferred him from sipo to mimban for their imperial military campaign

even though he went in as a cook, he still had to do basic training

i think he enjoyed cooking (as much as one can when the empire forces you to do it)

it's the act of providing for others that he likes

ALCOHOL

i hc ferrix as this blue collar community that works in either scrap metal plants or factories which means everyone's a hard drinker lol

like if you don't drink beer at the end of a long day wtf are you doin

there's also a sense of pride to be able to hold your own liquor

it's not a quality that cassian possesses lol

he's not a lightweight but he's def not a heavyweight either

prefers brown liquor over cheap beer tho

SAD DRUNK. MOODY. EMOTIONAL.

not talkative when drunk unless you're a close friend and it's just you two

but he def gets caught in his own depressed emotions and sulks

he's also down to fuck LMAO

SEX&RELATIONSHIPS

bisexual (we all knew this)

total slut (we all knew this too)

i don't think he particularly cares on being top or bottom. he's a true switch if you want to label him

has commitment issues

this is from bix's comment about him being with married women. the marriage forms as a barrier for him not to be too emotionally close to the other person

has definitely paid for sex from prostitutes because of this reason. it's just sex, nothing more. another barrier to prevent closeness

although he mostly did this when he was younger. i think as he got older he slept with prostitutes less, maybe once in awhile

he has also protected hookers from clients that were abusive as well. i can totally see a young cassian that is already filled with rage go apeshit at a customer that was acting violent towards a sex worker he knew

#respectsexworkers - cassian fucking andor

i could go into nsfw hcs but that should be its own post lol

since he and bix were childhood friends, at one point when they were teenagers they tried to date exclusively

they lasted 2 weeks. they took one look at each other and said this ain't for us

doesn't have a specific physical type that he's attracted to

characteristics wise i think he's into people that are confident and can pull their own weight but also someone he can be vulnerable with (he both yearns for intimacy and is afraid of it)

PHYSICAL TRAUMA

while in narkina 5 he received 2nd degree burns on his feet and hands due to the electric shock punishment he experienced

after narkina 5 those wounds healed but the electric shocks had some long term effects as well

sometimes cassian will involuntary jerk his body while he's sleeping

there are days where he'll randomly feel a painful fiery feeling on his feet and hands that will last a few moments before going away

the blaster wound he got in ep 3 left a scar on his arm that never faded away

[lotusishere]

I think it’s still weird that Oralie is Sophie’s biological mother but she resembles Jolie. To have everyone compare you to her and the only difference being your eyes? Idkkk I used to think Jolie and Brant were Sophie’s biological parents. It made sense. Think about it (yes the timing of Jolie’s death kinda ruins things but does it?). Humans have found a way to extract eggs and keep them protected in case women want them later in life. What’s stopping the elves to have done the same thing? Jolie could have been a part of mothers they wanted to choose from. They could have extracted the egg from Jolie to save it. (This goes along with the multiple attempts of creating the moonlark. I don’t believe they got it right on the first try and even if they did I believe they had back ups in case it failed). And it would make sense for them to pick Jolie because SHE’S DEAD! (R.I.P) but it would make sense because literally nobody would look at her cuz NOBODY can look at her. Because she’s 6 feet under and a tree.

I also felt Brant could be a potential father but not in the ways others might assume. I’m not looking at abilities. I’m not looking at prediction. Im looking at how he VIEWS Sophie. Everyone has mentioned Sophie looks like Jolie. It’s canon that before Brant attacks her in the early books he hesitates because she looks like Jolie to him. He recognizes his past partner in Sophie. It’s reminds me of Twilight when Edward started to hate the baby because it was killing Bella, even though Bella wanted him to love the baby if she were to die because it would what’s left of her life. It would make sense for Brant to be upset that Jolie, the love of his life, died and then he has to see someone Jolie created walking around. Sophie would have been a constant reminder that she was all that was left of Jolie. It would also remind him of the betrayal he felt with her too. He could have seen Sophie as part of the reason their relationship was ruined and never going to be the same (other than the fact Jolie is…a tree).

I obviously know it would never be possible because of everything we know now in the series. Especially with Oralie canonically being her mother and the information that both biological parents don’t know one another (or aren’t close to one another). I also assumed Oralie was Sophie’s mother after the Jolie’s theory was incorrect but it still feels off to me in a way.

[enginnwee]

not big on genshin lore but something i wish i saw more of was the discussion of the dragons of teyvat in genshin.

this isnt even entirely exclusive to neuvillette or ajaw or dvalin, but just the dragons in general. we barely know anything about their society or how they lived compared to other species like melusines or even saurians. what's their deal anyhow?

we know neuvillette is the hydro dragon soveriegn, the reincarnate at that, but what caused the first hydro soveriegn to pass on? how did he become acquainted with human culture? does he know of the other living soveriegns (or dragons in general)?

and dvalin. what separates him and neuvillette? why does neuvillette have a human form and not dvalin? (most likely self-taught, now that i think about it) can all dragons have human forms as well, or is it limited to soveriegns?

ajaw. oh god where do i start. he is supposedly the soverign pyro dragon, according to him. does he know neuvillette? did the hydro dragon pass on while he was sealed away? does he know dvalin? we also know that he doesnt remember much of his past before being sealed away (hinted at by the abyss guy). would he even recognize any of the sovereigns (or any dragons for that matter)?

this whole can of worms i myself created just makes me want to wonder what would happen if the dragons we know of met. hopefully in the future we will get to see some interactions between them.

if any of the information in this rant is incorrect im BEGGING YOU correct me in the tags/comments thank yewww

[wolfertinger]

this is an ask regarding the rape that happened and will be slightly explicit in ways unrelated to the actual assault that took place. i started tyoing this before hand and have to restart due to my window glitching and either deleting or sending the ask. if you have another similar shorter ask about this that is why, i am writing this purely because i felt uncomfortable trying explain one of my main points due to the nature of this whole situation. i will still try to explain it again but none the less, this ask will not feel good to read because it has to do with an actual rape that took place, a actual rape that wis still tries to defend on some level-even as she tries to shift focus on the other people who have victims often fair too young unrelated to swayer at all she still defends mari by association of her having abused sawyer.

i didnt say this before despite having been having this blog in my feed for a while, but i legitmately thought mari was cis when i first saw sawyer speak up on this. i also saw them speak up by pure happenstance since i try and listen to victims when i see a post of them speaking up about what happened to them. i saw this before wis inserted herself into it all if i understand the timeline of that correctly, i learned what had happened between mari and sawyer before i really started following this blog and i found out off tumblr.

my assumption reading, with none the context of this blog and sawyers blog, was that mari was a cis woman who assaulted her gender ambigous (thats still the best way i feel i can describe sawyers identity) trans partner. my perspective, before wis invovled herself and forced sawyer to go into detail about their trauma publically, was a cis woman raping a trans person.

the only reasons i can think of wis feeling it was okay to out mari as a trans woman are either

A: outing a fellow trans woman is justified because it hurts sawyer.

or

B: mari clearly had to be trans because she was inside sawyer, and therefore it wasnt outing her.

as a afab i can confirm its possible to be inside someone without having had some form on bottom surgery. its normal to view having a strap inside someone as "being inside them." its normal to view fingering/fisting as "being inside someone." it is possible for two people without penises, born that way or post op, to be "inside" eachother. there are so many ways, none related to genitalia, that someone, ANYONE, could be inside someone.

even with what we have been told we dont know exactly how mari was assaulting sawyer when she woke up to it happening. we can rudely and grossly make assumptions (something that im trying my best to avoid), but we have no way of knowing. "inside" is the vaguest way one can describe either sex or rape of some kind of penetrative nature. that is the only information i remember sawyer ever giving on it, both before and after wis forced them to explain in detail the ways she had been abused and assaulted by mari.

either wis has incorrect, and inherently queerphobic (even if such thoughts would be internalized they are still queerphobic), sentiments on the nature of "being inside" someone or she only put herself in this all so she could justify harassing and abusing sawyer publicly for everyone to see. i literally cant think of any other explanations for why she thought outing mari was okay in any way. the more you examine the way wis has acted throughout all this the uglier it all gets. she seems like a genuinely vile woman.

"about last

i sincerely hope you regret this one day, and cringe at your unjust cruelty. i hope sawyer receives an apology from you. you've proven you are nothing but a horrible, despicable, ugly and nasty person on the inside, wis. and it will NOT be forgotten."

i think, the worst part is. wis has ADMITTED, mari is a rapist. she ADMITTED what mari did. MARI FROM THE OUTSET, TOLD HER WHAT HAPPENED. with ALL of the info, both sides of the story, and all of the context. wis still chose to support, a rapist, over a rape victim.

wis is a rape apologist. simple as.

[caffeiiine]

I read the tags on your Kunikida post… go ahead and explain, my liege

JUST SAW THIS SOMEHOW ABYWAYS TYYY

OKAY so probably going into detail about how kunikida can be considered passively suicidal since i have the most coherent thoughts on that aand warnings for stuff of that nature under the cut :D + length

[also small disclaimer, i have been procrastinating reading dazais entrance exam and so far have only seen the anime adaptation which apparently left a ton of stuff out so feel free to correct me on inaccurate details and/or missed examples or just downright incorrect information]

[note: idk if passive is the correct term bc i was thinking about it and hes not exactly like oh i hope this kills me yk, so whatever that term is lmk <3]

This stuff also sorta ties in with his ideals and their potential self destructive-ness. they tend to cause him to either negligently often risk his life with there being an apparent “other way”, or just outright risk his life with barely a second thought for his ideals.

so kunikida has very strong morals and that’s the core of his character. the main ideals referenced in the show being his infamous “ideal woman”, “how to make dazai ideal”, and the ideal that basically tells him to save people. [i forgot what that one is referred to as]. If we’re talking timeline wise i think one of the first examples of his ideals causing him to negligently risk his life would be in Dazais Entrance Exam, or The Azure Messenger arc if you’re an anime watcher.

First example off the top of my head in dazais entrance exam would be when him and Dazai first see the hostages, specifically the ones in the room

after the gas came down dazai has to actually wrestle kunikida away from the room because otherwise hes gonna die. kunikida repeatedly shouts about how “people shouldn’t die like this”. This might be a bit of a tangent but later on in the episode he remarks how he “may as well ahev set the bomb off himself” when Dazai asks about Rokuzou’s dad, implying he blames himself for Rokuzou’s dad’s death. This is of itself isn’t enough for me to say “oh yeah he’s passively suicidal” so moving on to the main manga where there are several other instances of his tendencies to throw himself directly in harms way.

[there may be examples before this i just skipped to chapter 40] and starting off strong we have the thing with Aya. This could be written up to circumstance but he had the opportunity to avoid death himself so im counting it. he’s basically hugging death. that’s all i have to say for this.

of course he ends up surviving it because of deus ex machina yosano. After the fact, Aya asks him what he would’ve done if Yosano wasn’t there. To which he replies basically he would’ve done the same thing he just did except died and basically would have been fine with the outcome as long as she didn’t die in front of him. [he would’ve been dead as well and not had to deal with the guilt] i should point out as well, he does this because of his ideals. he specifically cites his ideals around these parts usually. The not letting anybody die before his eyes is one of ideals and the most common one he uses.

[im pulling that from the fact he had no backup plans or anything to actually stop the bomb aside from Yosano, since his words could imply he would’ve tried to save Aya. and the guy with the bombs was using the fact Kunikida holds his ideals very close to him, taht he wouldn’t have allowed Aya to die if he could’ve prevented it.]

aaand i think our last example and best example for tonight

context for the scene: they’re in the getaway helicopter and tecchou is trying to take it down via his sword and Kunikida decides to take matters into his own hands and take down Tecchou. First off, HE DID NOT HAVE TO, CHUUYA IS RIGHT. THERE. HE LITERALLY SHOT TECCHOU WITH GRAVITY BULLETS EARLIER.

HE DID NOT HAVE TO RISK HIMSELF BUT HE DID. also additional context, in this arc and the previous arcs, he’s been faced with situation after situation where his ideals have failed him and he’s been unable to exercise them and save the people he thinks he should.

point being, he feels like complete shit! he probably is thinking like if he should do anything then, it should be he makes sure he gets his friends out of there. regardless of whether he’s dead or alive because he jumps out of the plane and full body tackles tecchou while being in direct contact with fucking chuuya.

chuuya “has to stay out of the fights and arcs half the time because he’s too good at his job” nakahara.

chuuya “just shot tecchou and did a decent job at keeping him back a few pages before” nakahara. you see my point.

oh and then he just attempts to blow the both of them up.

he does not care for his life at all here. not one bit. also he did not need to blow the both of them up. he could’ve made a fucking stun gun or anything else that wouldn’t KILL the BOTH of them??

my whole point is he does not care for his life here and it’s gets worse the more you progress through the manga.

anyways anyways ending off, kunikida repeatedly puts his life in danger either for his ideals or neglectfully and/or without need. this has been a ramble. this man is not okay.

also kinda funny is he’s partners with dazai of all people, actively suicidal princess bungou himself. i really enjoy their differences and how similarly different they are.

^ not actually related to anything but i almost started laughing so hard with my family in the room at this piece, junichiro looks so concerned

[did-ask-me-anything]

...

I havent posted on here yet, but im so tired of all the harassment that came from a single post... I do truly apologize if what he said hurt people... I also want to make it clear that him venting an opinion that was anti a subreddit shouldn't mean I get death threats saying im siding with the subreddit.

im going to address every public response I can under the cut.

this blog was meant to be for non systems to hear a single system's opinions, thoughts, how things work, etc. this was not meant to be an all encompassing "I speak for all" and was not meant for opinions held by me or any of my alters to harm me or others.

to the person that commented saying they had different opinions: no I did not ask further because I dont want to engage with people who are uninformed and will threaten me.. so I dont really talk on that subreddit. im not looking to out myself and cause harm to myself for the sake of an argument with someone that made up their own facts. I believe you entirely missed the point, sorry... it was a criticism of the fake claimers in the comments and NOT the people that were being posted. and another apology you were upset by a commentary on inner worlds, it was a simplification of what ive heard from professionals and then a dislike about it being called alter storage. it was not meant to say that anyone with a rich inner world is in any way false or inherently faking

---

to the person that reblogged me to say im ignorant as shit and hate on me then block me.. im sorry this hurt you but you really did.. entirely miss the point... I have literally no idea what you mean by "that creep Sociial" and the entirety of the post was ANTI the subreddit.. it was talking about frustration from commenters being misinformed dicks that think theyre right about everything.. and the "if you ended up on that sub you probably said something stupid" is an understandable thing to get from that, but what he actually said is that if you end up on the sub you likely did something cringey. CRINGEY DOES NOT MEAN FAKE. anyone can be cringey.

---

to the person who made a actually fairly nice reblog, thank you.. I do want to say so that he/I are not claiming dissociaDID created headspaces or that they originated from the internet, but rather she popularized the idea of it being a physical location in your head. im fully aware they're real and always have been and will never claim theyre not. I believe it was specifically stated in the first paragraph under the cut that having a headspace does not make you a faker.

I know that everyone has their own experiences which is the entire point of this blog. I do not fake claim anyone? my alters have simply made commentary on their own experiences and being confused by misinformation. including their own experience and opinion isn't fake claiming.

we're on the same page with the alters fronting for non-trauma related reasons, im unclear why that was a whole paragraph, apologies...

and to cover your commentary on the other post, I am aware that fictives are real and can come in all kinds of variations... both posts before this were made by fictives (one 100% source seperated, and one very connected) and just talked about their own experiences. nothing either of them said was meant to invalidate ANYTHING, just give a different perspective. if it did come off that way, im very sorry, and please let me know and I will correct it to come off how it was intended.

and to end.. I usually do avoid them. I end up looking through on occasion because of my friends or because I end up on there. im very aware theyre harmful, this blog is anti those and a little bit hoping that a few of them may ask me questions and correct even a little of the incorrect information they spread. I may be gently skeptical because of the sheer amount of systems I have met, but I dont fake claim.

---

if theres anything im missing or anymore things to be said, youre welcome to respond to this, but can I please stop being harassed and threatened, thank you. -🪓

[to-my-emil]

luca's 2024 letter

so i did a whole analysis/explanation/infodump about luca's newest letter on my discord server and. figured i may as well post it here! theres a lot of fun tasty things in here and some confirmation of things that have been implied in previous letters which is fun to look at. please keep in mind i dont have the entirety of every character and manor game's lore memorized so while i did double check some things i mightve missed some stuff. anyway its all below the cut since its Long have fun :)

(also feel free to chime in with any thoughts/feelings/opinions/ideas!)

so theres three sections to this letter! im gonna go section by section, but some parts of the last section are mentioned earlier so uh. sorry if you havent read it yet (id recommend u do read it first)

so part 1 is pretty fun. luca is confirmed to have survived game 10 (which also features tracy, charles, and bonbon though we dont currently know who the fourth survivor participant is) And its implied that hes the only survivor of the game (according to the "fleeting victory" thats the assumption at least). his traits w being able to connect the ciphers is also officially tied into the lore here; there are in fact wires running underneath each arena (or at the very least whichever arena lucas game was in which we dont know yet iirc) so its canon that he can do what he does in matches and its not something that the detective incorrectly deduced lorewise (idk if any of the survivor abilities are Actually incorrect deductions/not actually things that theyre doing (like for example priestess's portals, etc that seem more far-fetched) but since we know hes done other things incorrectly (like "prisoner" and "psychologist" titles being in quotes/technically wrong) i figure he mightve gotten some of those wrong too). luca is also Super Fucked Up w an unusuable left arm (and his previous injuries which we know includes at Least severe brain trauma but likely physical trauma too considering his time in prison + the leg braces) so uhhhhhhhhhhh. my money is NOT on him for the next game.

which is the fun next thing to talk about: baron deross is making him do another game!! this confirms whats implied in emmas 2022 letter (she writes "I've won the previous round, for now" which implies a second round if not more), and probably means that helena and galatea would also go through another round even though its not confirmed yet. so far we dont have a record of what happens in any second manor game for a player who has won (as far as i remember); usually what happens is entire groups are eliminated before the game and the only survivor goes on to the next round to try again by default rather than having won the game (like murro and luchino). so far luca's second game is the only one we have ANY info about for a survivor whos won their first game; we know that alva is in it and its heavily implied ann is in it (we'll get to this later) so we'll likely find out what happens once we get either of their experiment letters. its also interesting that the baron seems to reveal more information about the experiments to luca after luca won his game, but its hard to know whether thats because luca is also a scientist or if he reveals that to everyone who wins. my guess is maybe the former bc u Know luca would have questions and theres also no mention of baron deross saying anything like that in emmas, galateas, or helenas letters.

on to section 2!!! (there was a slur against disabled people in the last line of this section so. thats whats blocked out)

OKAY SO. definitely confirmed that hes in a second manor game, its not even subtext its just right there. assuming the "mechanisms" refer to the same mechanisms that are running under the arena and connecting the cipher machines my guess is that this is what he used to shock other participants?? rather than just being to conduct electricity through himself like he does in the game?? idk thats just spaghetti at the wall its not clear here how he actually got shocked and why. it Is clear that he passed the fuck out at some point or another/his memory issues have gotten worse and the wiki points to that guy in his dream being hermann, so that's. interesting. theres an implication here that luca and hermann used to be closer, but once luca started w physics hermann went mmmm time to stop being a father. which. checks out knowing hermann. whats even more interesting is that luca calls hermanns ideas "ludicrous fantasies" that are neither idealistic nor realistic, because like luca you went and did THE EXACT SAME THING. BRO HE WORKED ON PERPETUAL MOTION. YOURE WORKING ON PERPETUAL MOTION. IM SORRY YOU CANT CLOWN ON UR DAD FOR RUINING HIS LIFE OVER PERPETUAL MOTION WHEN U DID LITERALLY THE EXACT SAME THING

anyway.

i do wonder if this is meant to imply that hermann was in fact actually working on a More ridiculous version of perpetual motion or if luca is just biased as hell against hermann. im banking on the latter there is no way in hell that luca is a reliable narrator considering all his memory issues + his general tendency to outright grab people hes mad at by the throat (<- fun fact we see this at least twice once in alvas backstory video and again in gattos backstory video. luca is the same across all timelines). also implications that hermann became an alcoholic. im guessing as a kid luca was told it was medicine and he hasnt put the pieces together?? or its ironic. idk could be either with him. i highly doubt its actually medicine. ALTHOUGH. theres an alternate explanation here; when luca says "swallow them down" i initially thought he was referring to hiding his "final feelings", since sometimes swallowing down feelings is a phrase used for that kind of thing. but potentially this could be implying that hermann had luca take some kind of medicine potentially to get rid of those feelings in some way?? personally i think its the former because we already know hermann was wasting his life and money so becoming an alcoholic would be an easy answer, but this is probably just because i dont have any answers if it were the latter. something to think about

now the third part, which gives us info about the next manor game!

so first the "gaunt old man" is (according to the wiki which i agree with in this case) mad eyes, which makes sense because mad eyes was involved in game 8/9 right before this and game 10 was filled with inventors + bonbon so it only makes sense he was there. no idea where he went though. whats more fun is that luca is now In The Fucking basement Walls where mad eyes used to be bc luca doesnt trust the rest of the participants. considering the "abnormal eyes" and that alva is here we know for sure that this is those related to the eye of darkness cult, which means ann is also definitely there. whats even more interesting is that this implies the existence of at least one more member of the eye of darkness cult whos going to be in this game; luca says "new participants" and "these people", and considering how specific the letters usually are with other things i would guess hed say "those two" if it were only ann and alva (of course its possible that theyre the only two have arrived at the writing of this journal, but considering he refers to a ritual coming up soon my money is on all the participants being of the cat cult except luca). luca makes a good note that this new game is likely the opposite of the previous and more focused on religion/spirituality which checks out w the participants, but DAMN hes an asshole about their writing style LMAO. sorry luca not everyone can have the same notes u do

the "brother in faith" guy here is alva, and i personally believe that he can in fact believe see through walls just bc thats funny as hell. just kidding its likely because luca is not as subtle he thinks he is because alva Literally Knows Him. other people might not be able to know hes there but like. that guys also a scientist. hed be able to figure out that theres someone in the walls AND he does in fact know luca. its difficult to tell bc of lucas memory issues but this probably also implies that alva looks very different from how he did in life (i doubt its as tall/etc as in his hunter form since thats what they all see when drugged not what he Actually looks like but im sure theres some stuff like his shorter hair/grayish skin/etc that carries across). i for one am fucking thrilled that theyre in a game together bc oh my god this is a time bomb and im just waiting to watch it explode (again).

as for the last line about a ritual... teehee. im very excited for whatever this is going to be and its killing me that this is the Only Information we have on it so far. likely we're going to have to wait for more alva and ann letters on this one, as well as whoever the third eye of darkness cult member is going to be, but i have no doubt that we'll have some more info eventually. if i had to take a guess its going to heavily affect how game 10-2/11 turns out; i highly doubt any ritual goes on without a sacrifice, and, well... theres only one guy here whos not already part of the cult. things are not looking great for lucas future.

[bbygrlmarkscout]

I have to share something mildly embarrassing rn ok

So like I watched the first episode of Severance over a year ago, but I decided not to continue it (despite finding it interesting) because I read online that the show was cancelled after a cliffhanger and I just didn't wanna put myself through that ,, Obviously that information turned out to be incorrect, but that's what happened.

Anyway, as season 2 was about to begin airing and I saw the buzz online I thought hey maybe I should pick the show back up soon! It wasn't cancelled after all!

STILL I put it off. Until finally, one random night around the time episode 2 aired, I had a weird, vaguely horny dream about the show. At this point in time I didn't know ANYTHING really about Severance and also thought Mark was kinda fuckin ugly so I have NO idea where that came from... But I'm so glad it happened because that was the final push I needed to really start watching the show.

I'm sharing this tho specifically because the dream was weirdly prophetic... Remember, I had only seen the first episode at this point- The dream had so many elements that were actually true to the content in the show that I had no way of knowing about. For example the innies being treated like kids, but with a playground instead of the childish perk incentives. And the strict discipline seen on the severed floor, except with corporal punishment instead of the psychological torture used in the break room. (Which I personally think it was alluded to that they do, in fact, use corporal punishment in there as well, but that's another conversation)

point is im here because i had a weird prophetic wet dream about mark and severance and i just thought that was odd and interesting enough to make an annoyingly long text post about it. goodnight.