#I know the phrase isn’t exactly accurate but I like it more like this

[crimson-constellations]

Guys…

[wailing-bunny]

The Price of Kindness

Blade with language barrier <3 (I researched the Chinese phrases but if they're not accurate I apologize!)

☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂

Dark Content Warning!

Contains: Blade x gn Reader, Kafka (mentioned)

Warnings: yandere, NSFW, non-con, murder, violence (I mean it's Blade come on)

☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂

You made the grave mistake of meeting Blade.

And an even greater one, you made the mistake of being kind to him.

It was all you could think about, as your tears fell like raindrops, dirtying the bloody mattress even more.

He didn’t pay any mind to your cries, however. In fact, you almost felt him going harder, moving faster, as he grunted like he was the one in pain.

You didn’t want to think about it, you didn’t want to remember that hellish day that you met him, but it was really all you could think about at the moment. If only… maybe… if you had done this instead of that… or that instead of this…

Or maybe, the best result would’ve been never meeting him in the first place.

You were strolling in the Luofu, glancing around the place in awe as you admired the ship you've wanted to visit for a long time. You had gone to a few stores, tried a few dishes you were dying to try, and now you were taking a stroll in the streets you admired so much.

Normally, people prefer places like Penacony for travel, and a few people had told you that the Xianzhou Luofu isn’t exactly all that touristic, and that you would have trouble understanding their language. But you didn’t care! It was your dream, and right now, you were standing in the middle of your dream, a happy face on your face.

Until you were caught up in an emergency, where you were cornered into a wall.

“Blade…”

You hissed in pain. “At least be a bit more gentle… “ You begged.

Of course, he didn’t listen. As if he couldn’t even understand what you were saying.

And to be honest, you couldn’t understand him either.

A man, trying to rob you, cornered you into a wall. He was saying things you couldn’t even understand. But it was clear he was a robber.

You cried as you tried to explain to the man that you didn’t have anything valuable with you. And the man, instead of understanding you, started to get violent.

Just as you were ready to accept your destiny, and regret your choice of coming here,

You heard the sound of a swift blade.

Cutting through delicate skin, and not even letting the victim scream.

You were shocked, scared, hesitant, happy? You just hoped he wouldn’t kill you too. You fell to your knees, looking at the dead body now laying limply in front of you.

You should’ve screamed.

You really should’ve. But even that wouldn’t have saved you.

“Shh.”

You looked up. A man with black hair, and eyes as sharp as a blade, was glaring at you, with a hand on his mouth, urging you to not speak, or scream.

You stood there confused. Not knowing what to do, but you obeyed. Scared for your life, so you obeyed.

A shushing sound, you’re all too familiar with, was heard. And just like before, you bit back your words, and closed your mouth, trying to muffle any sound that could be audible.

Because just like before, you were scared for your life.

At first, he was really intimidating, but after realizing he had saved you, you started to grow less weary of the man. Even inviting him to a café you saw on the way.

He gave you a look, not speaking, or making any move, as if he was judging you. You stayed there awkwardly, before remembering.

He probably doesn’t understand you.

So you quickly open a translating app, and show him your phone with a smile. Perhaps you were too calm for a person who just saw someone get murdered, by the person right in front of her, but you didn’t care. You were a bit lonely, to be honest. And although weird, he looked like a handsome gentleman.

Though, after seeing your screen, his expression did not change. He just glanced at the screen, before turning his attention back at you. He huffed, a frustrated sound.

And with that, he turned around and walked away. You frowned. How mean.

Just as you too were about to turn around, you heard a sound.

“Lái.”

You tilted your head, not understanding, before he made a beckoning motion, and you gasped, now starting to follow him with a smile.

“Bì zuî.”

He grunted. You yelled in frustration that you did NOT understand him, but when he gripped your hair and yanked harshly, you got the memo and stopped talking.

But he continued to pull as you sobbed, now growing more frustrated. What did he want you to do? You whimpered in pain, and misery, feeling hopeless. You wanted to go back home… You wished you had never came to the Xianzhou Luofu. You wished you had never talked with this weird man. You wished you had realized that the wanted posters among the galaxy had his face on them.

You shared a meal with the man. Although you couldn’t understand each other, you still tried your best to show him your appreciation with the translator on your phone.

He himself, didn’t talk much, nor react. But he wasn’t glaring at you with such hatred anymore. Maybe he wasn’t even glaring in the first place? That may be his natural expression. You weren’t sure.

Regardless, it was fun. And he was a good listener. Even when you stopped talking, thinking you bore him, he urged you to continue talking.

You eventually came to the conclusion that he was just bad at expressing his emotions. You were happy to make a new friend though.

After the little date, he even invited you to his house.

But you didn’t know, that you would end up being kidnapped by the Stellaron Hunters instead.

A slap brings you back to the present. A harsh one too. You yelp in pain, furrowing your brows and looking at him with a confused face.

He looked…less feral now. Less like an animal. He was panting, still glaring, but his expression was softer now. Less like wanted to kill you by ravishing your insides.

He did the latter anyway though, you were so tired, you barely felt him pull out. You finally could breathe.

You tried to roll over to rest more comfortably, but the smell of your own blood covered in the sheets, and the pain of your open wounds brushing against the surface made you whimper in pain.

Which you quickly regretted, when you felt his eyes lock on you again. He was about to grip your wrists again.

“Bladie, let them rest, will you?”

You heard her voice, and breathed a sigh of relief. Blade tsked before getting up, and leaving with the lady who was chuckling in amusement.

You closed your eyes, finally happy to be able to get some rest. You heard his voice among their distant talk, something catching your attention.

“Maybe it wasn’t too bad of an idea, after all…”

And you opened your eyes in shock when you realized.

[blueorchid-95]

so I was going through Book IV for my theory post a while back and. Holy crap the foreshadowing goes Hard in this Book

In chapter 2 part 1, the party initially notices the summoner’s absence:

And then Peony says this in response:

Funnily enough, that’s exactly what happened. As of right now, the summoner is trapped in a dream. And what’s this part called again?

This is a completely accurate statement. The summoner is indeed lost in a dream, just not in the way that the party or the players expect.

Let’s skip on up to chapter 5. In part one, everyone “wakes up” to an Askr flooded with nightmares… and besides Alfonse, no one seems to recognize the summoner.

Now, this event is clearly spurred on by a nightmare. Alfonse sees it as his own fear:

But check out the way he phrases it. The fear of losing somebody isn’t exactly one-to-one with what’s happening here. Anna and Sharena are acting like the Summoner never existed. If it was Alfonse’s fear of loss that had taken over, the others would be aware of Kiran’s identity and a nightmare summoner would be preying on that terror. But that’s not happening—because this isn’t Alfonse’s fear.

Instead, it reads more as a fear of loneliness—no one knowing who you are, no one remembering everything you’ve done together…. It fits with the Summoner’s personality, too: they’re always working and working, showing kindness to everybody unconditionally, and yet barely taking a moment to relax. They want to have friends so badly that the very idea of being forgotten and abandoned terrifies them to their very core… but that fear doesn’t affect Alfonse, and the Summoner knows that, so he just ends up confused.

Oh, and on top of all that, what’s this part called?

This title hits so hard once you know the twist because it applies to BOTH Alfonse and Kiran’s perspectives. Alfonse is remembering the name of someone else, while Kiran is remembering their own name. And, frankly, I doubt many people read the part titles anyway. It’s so easily looked over and yet it’s so incredibly obvious once you first spot it. I should know—I almost missed it myself!

In Part 6’s final bit, Memory of a Friend, Veronica asks Alfonse to tell her about Zacharias, at which point Alfonse reveals his memory issues. Pay attention to the specific wording he uses here:

Fog, huh? Take a look at this!

When Alfonse dreams of the World of Steel, it’s covered in fog… just like his memories. The world is obscured, empty and cold, and it’s excruciatingly unfamiliar to him. In the Midpoint Movie, however, he encounters one other person when he’s in the fogbound city:

The summoner, aggressively charging towards him with hands outstretched. You know what happens immediately after this daydream? The party clashes with the mind-controlled summoner, and the Summoner finally realizes who they are and reclaims their identity.

When you think of foreshadowing in this Book, you most likely think of the squirrel conversation (unrelated: I had Ratatoskr in my party when I was getting these screenshots and I just think that was funny) in 11-5:

Immediately after Anna says all this, Alfonse begins showing obvious discomfort as he comes to a realization.

Alfonse and the Identity Crisis! Look at him go! This could also be a potential interpretation of the Summoner v. Alfonse scene in the movie: the dreamt-up personality coming into conflict with the actual one.

This tells the player that this may not be the real Alfonse… but it doesn’t tell them WHO. And so, they’re still on their toes when the big reveal comes around—which makes the truth of Alfonse’s real identity hit so much harder.

TLDR: Book IV had some of the most amazing foreshadowing I’ve ever seen in a video game and I wanted to talk about it some

[dinoplantsghost]

pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, one or two racist comment(s) and mention of n@z!s, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of Walpurgisnacht and Christianity, there's probably more but idk

word count: ~4515

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- okay now this one kind of eats, I just skimmed through it and I lowkey forgot I wrote this

Chapter List

The Knights of Walpurgis [7]

13:15 - Wednesday 18th

Tracy had bumped into Saoirse during their shared free period before lunch, his lips not in their usual smile when he dragged her off campus to a bench near the Black Lake. 

He was concerned about his friends—or ‘their’ friends, as he had phrased it. For once, Saoirse understood what it was like to “be in the know” and be part of a unit of people. 

“I tried talking to Ava,” he sighed. “But she gets all emotional whenever I bring it up; I just want to understand what happened, but I guess I get why she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe it was bad or something.” 

“Griffin was telling me something about it after the first Quidditch match, although very vaguely. He was mostly talking to himself, it seemed like.” 

“Really? I’m surprised, considering how much he didn’t like you when I first introduced you to each other.” Tracy leaned back, his brows furrowed as a hand reached up to pinch at his delicate skin. “What did he say?” 

Saoirse shrugged. “In all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m not used to comforting people and he was too busy crying to really say anything interesting or important.”

Despite her insistence that she didn’t remember much, Saoirse went into detail about how Eugene had wept over Ava-Lynn and how she “broke his heart.” She always took the opportunity to talk her mouth off. 

Tracy, usually thirsty for drama and all of its wondrous theatrical moments, paused. “Eugene and Ava? Together? I don’t believe it,” he huffed. “Ava’s a great person with strong morals. And I mean, Eugene is my friend and all, but…” 

Saoirse shrugged once more. He clearly knew them better than her and yet he was just as confused.

The boy shook his head, his shaggy hair hitting his cheeks as he rubbed his eyelids. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think Ava would have told me that even if I threatened her; I would be embarrassed too. But also, there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.”  Tracy pulled his legs up, sitting tailor-fashioned on the bench, smearing mud and grass on his trousers. “You know we share Defense classes, right,” he asked. “Because I’ve seen you hanging out with those guys lately—the ones from Slytherin. If you were smarter, you’d stop talking to them.” 

Saoirse frowned. “That’s exactly what Patrick said about you and Griffin the other day. He said any friend of Griffin’s isn’t good.” 

“Well, that nerd is a hypocrite,” he scoffed. “Every one of his friends, including him, is a no good, snotty, rich boy raised on outdated ideals. They’re no better than the Nazis we hear about from the Muggle war.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought. 

“But Patrick is really nice,” she argued. “He told me that he hates the Sacred Twenty-Eight; he wants nothing more than to be on his own when he finishes school.” 

“He’s obviously lying. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.” 

“What do you mean? What apple?” 

“Nevermind,” he groaned. Tracy stood from the bench, doing nothing to wipe off the grim from his uniform. “Forget what I said; it’s an idiom you don’t get yet. But either way, don’t come running to me when that group decides to throw you to the side, Saoirse.” 

It was not until lunchtime did Tracy try to talk to Saoirse again. After their conversation at the bench, the boy left in frustration since she did not understand why he disliked Patick when he had Eugene Griffin as a friend. In her eyes, he had no right telling her who to be around when that Hufflepuff student was clearly just as bad. 

When lunch rolled around, she didn’t entertain his attempts at conversation because she was too busy scratching at arithmancy work that was due within the next hour or so. Saoirse wasn’t horrible at mathematics, per se; it’s the way symbols and numbers danced around on the tree pulp that annoyed her. Mahoutokoro had a different way of calculating things, and Arithmancy was completely separate from what she was formally taught from a young age. Saoirse still had a hard time handling a quill, and her handwriting needed to be small so each equation could fit nicely on the same page. Her eyes also strained if she looked at her work for too long, which is one of many reasons she was currently sitting at the Ravenclaw lunch table alone, her back curled over as she scribbled away slowly. With each snag her quill hit on the parchment and each ink bubble that burst and melted into her skin, she felt closer to committing another murder. Maybe it would be better if it was her that was dying this time around. 

Luckily, she was able to finish the assignment in time. Arithmancy class always went by faster than her brain processing every little thing she wrote. By the time she was out of the classroom and following her peers down the hall like a school of fish, her thumb had difficulty flexing and stretching out her fingers did not get rid of the tense feeling in her hand. 

As she walked into Merrythought’s classroom, Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose to numb the throbbing pain in her head as she plopped down next to Patrick, who fortunately recovered just fine after the start of the month. 

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You’re pinching your nose again.” 

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out a small glass container with clumpy circles of brown. The boy gave one to Saoirse, a thin layer of sugar melting from the warmth of her palm. “My family gets these Godiva treats every time we visit Belgium,” he explained. “We’re not supposed to do this at school, but I infuse the share I get with soothing elixirs I make in my spare time. I have this thing called astigmatism, so I get headaches and migraines often.” 

She took a small bite, her front teeth sore from the sweet’s brittleness. “It’s very sweet,” she muttered. “Almost too sweet…”

Patrick blushed, embarrassed that Saoirse didn’t like it. “Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it all! I’m sorry you don’t like it!”

She waved a hand. “No, I will,” she replied. “I’m just not used to it. I like it.” 

As the girl took another bite, she was unaware of the smear of crumbs on the corner of her mouth. Without another thought, Patrick cupped her cheek, flicking flecks of almond and caramelized sugar. 

Eloise, along with the other Knights, made a noise of discomfort. “Get a room,” he whined. “No one wants to see that, Patrick.” 

The Austrian boy froze, pulling his touch away from Saoirse’s cheek dusted in pink and red.  “Sorry…”

───────────

The Transfiguration Professor was odd. In her mind, he resembled the many (old as fuck) men she saw in Japan, though he was not nearly as old. He always wore lavender robes, and insisted on speaking in a way that drove her to insanity. Albus Dumbledore, the Head of the Gryffindor House, always spoke softly. He spoke so delicately, in fact, that his breath would slip through the little gap in his front teeth, causing his speech to have a whistle throughout. It sounded like a fork dragging against a porcelain plate, a sound she only recently discovered her first night in the Great Hall. 

When Dumbledore asked Saoirse to speak to him during her free time after Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wanted to bang her head against a desk. She had heard stories about him from Merrythought. He had a male lover that he was enemies with, apparently. 

“I hope Hogwarts has been to your liking,” the old man said. “I’m sure your former school was very enchanting. I’ve always wanted to visit Mahoutokoro, you see.” 

“Hogwarts has been very kind to me, sir, much better than Mahoutokoro.” 

“Wonderful! It’s always good to see the positive in every change and shift in life, after all. Now, how are you doing socially? Any friends? Like that Mayfield boy, Tracy.” 

“I’m not that close to Mayfield. I would consider him more of an acquaintance; I believe that is the word.”

Dumbledore hummed, his eyes twinkling as he fiddled with his beard. “I see…Are you having trouble finding eagles to group with, dear?”

Saoirse shook her head. “No, sir, I just find myself around Patrick Nott and his group more often.” 

The man sighed. He plucked his eyewear from his wobbling nose, wiping the grime off with a smooth cloth. “Saoirse, dear, the reason I have pulled you aside is because I am worried,” he frowned. “And while you are an eagle rather than a lion, it is my duty as an adult and a teacher to make sure every student is doing well. Now, I say this out of the concern from your friend—no, your acquaintance, as you referred to him. Mister Mayfield only wants the best for you, as do I.” 

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mister Mayfield has told me of the group you surround yourself with, Saoirse, and with my own eyes I can say with a full heart that these boys will give you nothing but trouble.” 

He leaned against his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at the Japanese girl with a sorrowful expression. “I fear Saoirse, amongst that group of Slytherins, is a boy who is too dark, too far into his ambitions to be deemed safe. He is dangerous. Any involvement with him will throw you off a path of light and good.” 

The girl craned her neck. She was sure her face was stuck with her lip pulling at the corner, her eyes darting around to avoid the old man’s gaze. “Professor,” she laughed. “I can assure you that none of them are ‘dangerous.’ They’re teenage boys that are driven by hormones, food, and sports.” 

“No,” Dumbledore argued. “You’re not understanding, Saoirse. Amongst those boys is a tortured soul, one that cannot be healed or fixed by any means. Mister Mayfield came to me in hopes that you would realize the dangers these Slytherins put you in.” 

Saoirse crossed her arms, scoffing. Mayfield was hardly any character to throw his opinion into her life. “With all due respect sir, I barely know Mayfield and he barely knows those boys. Patrick and his friends are nothing but dumb airheads, especially that Riddle kid; he drives me insane.” 

“In what way?”

“That boy needs to be humbled,” she sighed. “He’s brash. He thinks he has this authority over everyone. He’s really not all that.” 

“Would you care to elaborate,” Dumbledore pushed. “While Tom is destined for greatness, that is for sure, the boy is very troubled.” 

The girl was silent, her jaw tensing in thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” she drawled. “I hardly think it’s my place to speak of Riddle’s issues, especially when I couldn’t care any less.” Saoirse stood from her chair, letting the legs scratch against the wooden floor of the man’s office. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my free time before History of Magic.” 

Ignoring Dumbledore’s demanding gaze, Saoirse’s legs took a stride out of his office and away from his classroom. She glided through each hallway, twisting and turning each corner as her mind honed in on the plans forming in her head. 

She had every reason to stick by those boys in green, to keep an eye on that sick fuck who took his “friends” for granted. It wasn’t hard to see how the others were strangled around his finger. Considering Rosier’s speech the night she was informed of their little club, it only confirmed the rumors she had heard, most of them from Mayfield. And while she never had friends before, it wasn’t rocket science to have basic human decency. 

But she was curious, so fucking curious as to why Riddle seemed to have put it upon himself to carry the burdens of an entire aristocratic group of blue bloods. According to Patrick, Riddle was never a name within the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was a nobody, to put it simply. Yet somehow, by some miracle, he was at the center of some of Europe’s powerful heirs of their generation. 

There was darkness in the boy; that was something she could agree on with Dumbledore. During her spar in Merrythought’s classroom, Riddle was cold and calculated, but he was easily aggravated—”trigger happy” is what Patrick called it. Riddle gets jealous whenever the spotlight trails off him, causing a controlled temper tantrum of sorts in order to regain his title as the model student. 

It didn’t take long for her feet to drag all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. The password slipped past her lips, and she ignored the harsh stares from those in green as she looked for the familiar door with the number ‘13’ on it. 

The door swung open, Miles Lestrange leaning against the frame with crossed arms. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he isn’t here,” he smirked. “Patrick’s in the library, as usual.” 

“I’m not looking for Patrick, I’m looking for Riddle. What’s his door number?” 

Lestrange curled a brow in interest, pushing himself off the door frame as he mused, “Oh? You’re already bored of Florian? How rude of you, Saoirse.” 

“Florian?” 

“Yeah, that’s Patrick’s middle name.” He ran a hand through his curls. “Anyways, why do you need Tom?” 

“I just need to talk to him,” she frowned. 

Miles sighed, “His door number is seven; he rooms with ‘Brax, Louis, and Cass’.” 

With a small thanks, Saoirse retraced her steps, eyes dancing to the bold, black number on teak wood. The girl did not have many hopes of speaking to the boy today, but when she rapped her knuckles on the door, it was quick to snap open and make her jump out of her skin. 

It was odd to see Riddle in simpler clothing. He didn’t have his robe on, nor his gray sweater vest. Instead, he only wore the Oxford shirt all students were required to wear, along with his green and silver tie that hung loose under his collar. He did not speak, expecting Saoirse to have words roll off her tongue with ease, only to realize her eyebrows were crumpled up as she gathered her English. 

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he uttered, a breath of annoyance flushing past his nostrils. “Midterms are coming up; you should be studying instead of wandering off.” 

When the girl stayed silent, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before he could slam the door, however, she spoke: 

“Let me join that stupid club of yours, Riddle.” 

Tom froze, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing as he turned on the ball of his foot. “Whatever Nott told you is none of your business.” 

“It became my business when you beat up the poor boy for rightfully spending his free time with whomever he chooses. Besides, he was following your dumb orders regardless.” 

Tom yanked Saoirse by her collar, throwing her inside the vacant dorm. The door finally slammed shut, the flame from the fireplace flickering against his high cheekbones and set jaw. 

“What did those idiots tell you,” he demanded through clenched teeth. It didn’t take long for the distance between the teens to close, Tom’s long legs taking strides to push Saoirse against the beam of Cassius’ four-poster bed. 

“They told me everything.”

“Really, everything?” 

“Everything they wanted to tell me before Orion demanded that I get some sleep.”

Saoirse hated how tall the boy was. People were rarely his height in Mahoutokoro, but it seemed like European genetics had these boys shooting for the stars. Through her lashes and frames, she could see how flared his nose was, how his lip was in permanent disgust at the thought of her being in his presence. 

Hesitant, Saoirse forced her tongue away from her inner cheek as she spoke, “Dumbledore spoke to me a while back…He seemed weirdly obsessed with you. I just wanted to know why.” 

Apparently, the mere mention of the man was enough to set the boy off. His eyes flashed with anger, perhaps even fear, but it was difficult to tell when Tom distanced himself from the girl to pace around the middle of the room. 

“What,” she smirked. “Do you have a secret affair with him or something? Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen such a—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. He turned to face her, a finger pointed in her direction as he pressed, “What did he say to you?” 

“I may or may not have spoken of you in a negative light,” she shrugged. “Dumbledore was trying to ask what I knew of you, which isn’t much.” 

Saoirse sighed, taking off her frames to rub her tired eyes. She sat down on Mulciber’s bed, letting her legs hang from the side as she laid down on his unmade sheets. “Whatever you’re trying to do with the Chamber of Secrets, It’s obvious that he knows.” She ignored the noise that came from his throat. “Senile men are a lot smarter than people would like to think; more deceitful as well.” 

She was met with silence, with the occasional crackling from the logs under the fire. 

“I don’t see the point in you being a Knight,” Tom said. “You’re only doing this for Nott.” 

“So,” she questioned. “You would be getting more out of your posse if I joined, regardless of my reasons. You would make a pretty shitty cult leader if you didn’t take advantage of your members, you know.” 

“And what makes you think the Knights of Walpurgis isn’t already a cult?”

The ashes under the flame fluttered, logs crumbling further down in prolonged silence. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

TR~S 

Saoirse did not know what to expect when she followed three boys in the middle of the night. After Astronomy class, Tom guided her, along with Patrick and Mulciber, up the castle. She never really got used to the moving stairs, but by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Saoirse’s head was already spinning and her hands clung onto Nott’s arm. 

The four of them moved quickly, footsteps light against the limestone flooring. Corner after corner, corridor after corridor, the teens finally stopped in the middle of a fork. Tom, the self-appointed line leader, walked up to the towering wall in front of them before pacing back and forth. Soon, the floor received residual shocks as the wall shook and split in the middle to open up. 

Patrick nudged Saoirse along, shutting her slack jaw with a forefinger. “You’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, Schatzi.” 

Seeing the girl in awe of one of the many hidden treasures Hogwarts had to offer, Cassius slapped a friendly hand to her back. “You’ll get used to it,” he chuckled. “I remember when we first found the Come-and-Go Room; our buddy Patrick here had the same reaction. You two are cute together, by the way.”

“Don’t say that,” hissed Patrick, his glasses fogged and his ears red. “Saoirse, Cassius doesn’t mean that at all, he’s just joking!”

The foreigner only smiled, amused by how Patrick’s eyebrows always curled whenever he was nervous. She followed the boys inside, craning her neck to inspect the castle’s magical and ever-changing architecture once more. Saoire always loved buildings, especially those built in the period of Gothic architecture. She loved how stained windows had become popular then, and she especially loved the Biblical iconography of the Christian faith, how it drowned cathedrals and other buildings in symbolism. 

Saoirse was pulled out of her trance by Patrick again, leading her to an ellipse-shaped table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Mulciber attempting to do the same for Rosier, only for his burly hands to be swatted away by his friend. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Tom drawled. “Patrick, if you could start the meeting.”

The boy in question nodded, his eyes fierce behind his perched frames. He stood, his chair scraping against the tile before he spoke, “The date is Thursday, November 19th, 1942. The time is 1:29 in the morning. All members are present and accounted for, along with one guest.” He glanced down at Saoirse, who had her eyes set on his figure the entire time. “The Knights of Walpurgis’ second meeting of the fall term is now in session.” 

Tom thanked Patrick with a wave of his hand, allowing the boy to sit down before speaking. He stayed standing, opting to pace at the head of the table.  “As you can see, men, we have a willing candidate to become our next knight.” 

With each word he spoke, Tom held onto the boys’ attention; moths to a raging flame. Their backs were straight, hands in their lap as they kept their heads high and their loyalty even higher. Saoirse had never seen Avery so serious before. 

“It has also come to my attention,” Tom mused. “That Dumbledore is attempting to thwart our plans once more. But do not worry; we have gotten past his insistence before.” He gestured a hand to Saoirse, signaling her to rise from her seat. “The girl has been in our presence for long enough, it seems. Saoirse, do you understand what the Knights of Walpurgis stand for?” 

She could only shrug. “I have some semblance of a mission, I guess.” 

“The origins of our name, the Knight of Walpurgis, comes from the holiday of Walpurgisnacht,” Patrick explained. “Walpurga was a saint long ago, known for battling diseases and witchcraft. She converted many people to Christianity and was sought after for protection against our practices. The holiday lasts from April 30th to May 1st, commemorating her canonization as a saint.

“We reclaimed the meaning of Walpurgisnacht. Just as she protected those from witchcraft and magic, we want to protect those from Muggles and their violent attempts at eliminating our populations. We, the Knights of Walpurgis, want to eliminate non magic folk, just as Muggle have done to us in the past in a similar fashion.” 

It made sense, Saoirse thought. However, surely not every Muggle had the same opinions. She turned to Tom, questions pooling in her mind. “So what does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

“As I’m sure the boys have told you,” he responded. “The Chamber is said to hold the very monster Salazar Slytherin planned to use himself. Our main problem is that the Chamber cannot be located.” 

“And you’ve checked everywhere?” 

“Yes, we’ve checked the library, asked people in the Sacred Twenty-Eight; there is nothing.” 

“Hogwarts: A History has a section on Salazar Slytherin, albeit small. It said that he was a Parselmouth and apparently, only those from his direct bloodline can inherit this ability. Maybe that’s why it can’t be found.” 

It was like a lightbulb had gone off—though, lightbulbs were made by Muggles, and electricity barely made sense to the Pureblood heirs. Eloise downed the drink in front of him—presumably alcohol— slamming his glass down to the table in fervor. 

“I knew Asians were smart,” he laughed. “But not this smart! It makes so much sense!” Eloise turned to Tom, arms outstretched in excitement. “Tom—sorry, my Lord, you’re a direct descendant of Salazar!” 

Saoirse ignored the weird title. Maybe they had a similar hierarchy system here, like Japan. 

“Yes, Avery, that’s an amazing observation.” Tom smiled ugly, stopping any laughter from bubbling in Avery’s throat. “Obviously I’ve thought of that, you idiot.”

It made sense now. That’s why Riddle was accepted into the group so easily. But still, as Saoirse picked at the chipped and frayed wood of the table, her mind could not wrap around the fact that the boy’s surname held no importance, no connection to any Pureblood family. Even with that information, it also wasn’t plausible for his status to be anything but Pureblood; his lineage made sure of that.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough,” smiled Miles. “After all, we have until the end of fall term.” 

“Which families were closest to Slytherin’s descendants,” Saoirse asked. “Surely there has to be something in an office or study.” 

“We’ve tried that,” Abraxas frowned. “We even asked MIles’ mum, who practically knows everyone in Europe. The next family that would be closest would be mine, but I’ve been looking since last summer; my father has nothing.” 

Tom spoke, his words carrying hopeful encouragement to his lackeys. “That is why I have decided to bring you tonight, Saoirse. With your foreign knowledge, we could broaden our horizons.” 

The girl could only shift in her seat to cross her arms and legs. “You really think Salazar Slytherin brought a creature from Japan all the way to the middle of nowhere in Scotland?” The look in his eyes gave everything away to her; he knew it was a stretch, too. “Look,” she sighed. “Japan really only has spirits and demons. There’s nothing I can think of that would have that much power. Sure, there are yōkai that look like snakes, which seems like something Slytherin would be particular about, but again, like I said; nothing from Japan could have the type of power to kill entire populations.” 

“Well, no matter,” he sighed. “It is just as Miles said: we have until the end of the fall term.” Tom waved an arm, prompting the girl to stand up and make her way to his side. “I’m sure you’re tired, Saoirse. It’s not usual to be up this late in the night. Before you leave, though, it is customary for all Knights to be…inducted, if you will. If I could have your left arm, please.”

───────────

“Which one of you thought it was good for the girl to know of our plans?” Tom sighed for the umpteenth time, his stomach churning with disappointment as none of the boys sitting before him could get a word out in full confidence. 

“It was Eloise,” Abraxas tensed. “He accidentally told Saoirse about the Chamber, but Orion eventually convinced her to join for Patrick’s sake.” 

Surprisingly, Tom did not blow up towards Avery’s mistake. “Orion, good job,” he mused. “This is very pleasant to hear. I’m glad to know that at least one of you knows how to seize an opportunity, the behavior of a true Slytherin.” 

It was very rare for Tom to throw compliments. If he praised you, then he was just a smidge happy; if he was happy, then there was a lesser chance of him being mad. No one liked when he was mad. If you could gain Tom’s acknowledgement, you were given the highest doses of immunity one could obtain. 

In the eyes of his followers, gaining merciful immunity was the ultimate goal, even if it meant sabotaging those closest to you.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

[gvenevera]

May I share some opinions about Katsuki’s final line the chapter 405? I’ve been trying to understand why fans on both sides are nitpicking on this particular panel and I want to explore what happened.

(Please mind that I’m not a Japanese expert nor a native but I have been studying the language and following both MHA manga and fandom for years, so I do have some experience on the matter. Oh and I’ll declare my Conflict of Interest as a Bakudeku shipper, but I do know how to stand on neutral grounds.)

Jpn: OFA (あいつ) に拭うねーもんは、こっちで拭うってなあああ!!!

Caleb’s version: OFA couldn’t keep you on the ground, but we’ll finish the job and then some!

In this sentence, “OFA” was meant to represent Izuku, as Horikoshi had clearly written for us in superscript. However even if you ignore the double meaning, OFA = Izuku, AM and the vestiges. In this scenario, all of them were already fighting against AFO and Shigaraki on the battlefield. So when Katsuki said that “he” is stepping in, it means exactly that, even though こっち isn’t specifically a singular pronoun, because he was the only other person on that battlefield. There is no “we” in this scene!

(Or if we want to be technical, there’s Edgeshot who’s out of commission. Best Jeanist, Mirio and Gentle are on Troy somewhere and they COULD be part of the collective “we” but they weren’t shown jumping in to help in this chapter either, so very low chance it could allude to them.)

Unless of course, Caleb took it too literally and thought that OFA alludes to the quirk itself. In this case, his English translation might be something like: “The ultimate power of OFA quirk couldn’t stop you (AFO+Shiggy) but we (Katsuki, Izuku, AM and the other heroes) will finish the job (by power of teamwork?)” Which is an understandable sentence in itself, but not accurate to the literal Japanese text. At all.

That’s not to mention the other missed opportunities in this panel alone, such as the callback to Katsuki’s apology in the rain. The “and then some” line was actually correct English, but it was such a rarely used phrase that it was jarring spoken from a teenager.

Tl;dr - yes, I think Caleb’s English translation for this page in particular was not satisfactory.

Listen, I know translations are hard, especially in languages like Japanese where people tend to omit pronouns or phrases in their speech. That’s why I stick around on leak nights to pick up the raw scans, and I try not to nitpick on manga translations too much. Heck, even other fan translations added their own flairs! - TBC’s version outright had Katsuki call out “Deku” which could be a controversy in itself (a reference to Hori’s intention but not 100% confirmed, and one may wonder if Katsuki would choose to refer to him by Deku or Izuku in this scenario). But I could see why fans on this side of the fandom are mad about this chapter, and I think it is fair of them to put an appeal with the official translation website. After all, it is customer feedback, the least they can do is get more unbiased translators to weigh in their opinions.

[hollislawson]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { Hollis Lawson } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { he } is ? they kind of look like { Skeet Ulrich } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 33 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 14 years }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { Paul Callan } from { Miracles }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { The Book Nook } as a { Bookseller / Blogger }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { The Oracle } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { fretful } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { perceptive } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { one bedroom } apartment beside me over in { Seaglass Gardens }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!  

Biography. (TW: death, funerals, hospitalisation, illness, injury) Hollis was born exactly two minutes after his identical twin brother, Harrison. From that moment on, the two were inseparable. They had their own made-up baby language that everyone swore only they understood. They slept in the same bed, despite having separate bunks and when they had candy, they counted out the pieces to make sure they both got the same amount. Things ticked on until their mom got sick and the twins ended up having to go into the care system. Despite their pleas, the twins were separated, their last time together being the day of their mother’s funeral. They promised that the second they were able, they’d find each other again. When Hollis was sixteen, he suddenly started having strange dreams. Every single night, he’d see very specific things or hear very particular sentences. Dreams that would have him jumping awake and unable to focus for the rest of the day. Despite everyone telling him to let it go, he simply couldn’t. His dreams were compelling and he knew in his heart they had to mean something, but, he couldn’t figure out what. He began to try sleeping more, sleeping less, making himself unconscious - anything he could to regain access to these messages. This landed him in hospital many times until he aged out of the care system at eighteen. Keeping to his promise, the first thing he did was accessed public records to try and seek out his brother. However, he came to learn that Harrison had passed away two years prior. This hit him hard and he essentially squandered the rest of the year grieving and continuing to try and study his dreams, filling books upon books with random words, imagery and phrases. Deciding he couldn’t stay in his hometown, he moved to Palmview, hoping for a fresh start. He has a quiet job in The Book Nook and mostly keeps to himself. However, he is almost constantly updating his blog where he continues to this day to document his strange dreams. With access to an audience, he’s had people reach out to him claiming some of the things he wrote of were eerily accurate depictions of something that happened to them, or someone they used to know. However, for every one of those he gets, he gets a dozen more calling him a fraud or insulting him. Recently, Hollis found himself in hospital after being hit by a cyclist. He was walking home from work when suddenly images started flashing before his eyes. It caused him to stop suddenly in his tracks, resulting in the accident. It hasn’t happened again since.

[yoroshiu]

Translating a Scene From Kingdom Hearts  (Japanese to English) (Part 1)

NOTE: I’ve been studying Japanese for a couple of years but I’m far from fluent. I wanted to practice reading/writing/comprehension by doing this. I can’t guarantee that these are accurate translations so I’m more than happy to hear any corrections/advice from people who know better. This is just for fun and self-study, but also because I love seeing differences between localizations. I also have barely any experience when it comes to posting on Tumblr so I apologize if this formatting just looks weird. I’m thinking about doing this for more scenes and I have specific ones in mind but I’m down to try any other ones.

Scene: Sora and Yozora (KH3 Limit Cut) (Before the fight)

Sora: This place... [lit: Here] 

S: (I) didn't disappear at least...

S: Heyyyyyy! Is no one there!?! Heyyyyyy!

Yozora: Hey! Hey!

S: Someone's there.

Y: Where (are you)?

S: (Over) here!

Y: I'm here.

S: Huh? You’re —?

Y: You know me?

S: Yeah, you’re Yozora right/aren’t you?

Y: Why/How do you know me? Who are you?

S: I’m Sora! Ah, right, there’s something I need to ask you.

Y: Sora...You’re Sora?

S: Eh? You know of me?

Y: Yeah, I’ve heard of you.

S:  If you're here, this can't be the real world? But I've hear about you from that girl...then, you really exist in reality?

Y:  What are you saying? Surely, this isn't the real world and I'm real. This isn't how I originally was [looked]. Why/How did you recognize me as Yozora?

S: Eh?

Y: Why are you calling yourself Sora?

S: Why...It's my name...

Y: If you're really Sora, and it was fate that I met you here...as I thought, you're like that*... (this is where he pulls out his gun crossbow)

S: Eeh??

(setting turns to Quadratum)

S: Eh? Eeeeh?!?

Y:  (I) got lost in this mysterious place, and went through some trials. And, I was told to save* Sora.

S: Huh?!? (You're) pointing that at me for such a thing!

Y: Let's end this

~ ~ ~

Additional Notes:

1* In JPN the phrase is:「やっぱり、おまえ がそうなんだな」I remember overthinking this quite a bit. In ENG, Yozora says “My path is clear” but for JPN, this sort of phrase seems to be confirming how he had thought Sora would be as a person, or more what someone has told him about Sora. It’s not a big deal in the grander scale of things, it doesn’t reveal anything big, but I thought it was interesting. At least, from my understanding of it...

2* The word Yozora uses for ‘save’ here is 救え (sukue) which is the ‘salvation’ kind of save rather than 助けて (tasukete) which I’d say is more of a ‘help’ kind of save. I feel most people who’ve watched anime or seen a good amount of Japanese media probably have run into tasukete more, though correct me if I’m wrong!

- I don’t think there’s any notable differences (content-wise) between JPN and ENG here, mostly wording differences. 

- In ENG, Yozora says "Are you done?" in place to JPN's "What are you talking about/What are you saying?" which is amusing to me due to the different vibes.

- I wonder if some of the pacing issues people tend to have with ENG, have to do with the fact that English doesn’t exactly have the same kinds of sounds for certain things like JPN does. When I listen to JPN, dialogue feels faster while for ENG, I’ve heard/read complaints about conversations feeling slow or drawn out. In the case of this conversation, when Sora says “Ah, right”, in JPN he says 「そうそう」(sou sou). This also doesn’t contribute much to a grander scale of things but I find this idea fun to explore.

Basically, I think about this stuff too much. If you’ve read this far, thank you for reading this kinda unnecessary post! 

[trifectum]

“LIAVOSSO’S GALACTIC JOURNAL! - entry one: the Mantisi.”

This is one of the first of perhaps quite a few entries into what is basically just an easy way to summarise the nature of the various species in this universe. No music this time - but do read on! The remainder of this post is basically what the writer (Liavosso) has written in unity with it - on a separate piece of paper.

“Well - this hasn’t been a great start for what I was hoping would be a fun and easy way to recall my encounters with people… first they fight me on sight - then I discover their blood is WAY too good at staining! Like, I’m trying to shake off the ‘evil probably-cannibal Demon-monster descended from a famous murderous bounty-hunter with a Void-thing for a limb’ narrative, and here I go getting alien blood on so much paper that I might as well paint with it!… and I did - but dammit I had nothing to colour with!

But anyway! Anyway… the first entry of my journal is dedicated to the Mantisi - or more accurately - the White Herald. What I aim to do in each addition is have a model of a certain species pose so I can sketch them in all their glory and write about what I’ve learned about them - as well as my opinions and experiences with them. While I couldn’t do that here, I hope next time they are a little more… non-weird. Now, anyone who knows the White-Herald probably thinks I’m a bit mental for picking them first, but I have a good reason: my daughter (adopted) is a descendant of a White-Herald royal - which does incentivise me to get them out of the way early… She doesn’t mind me killing them - if you’re wondering - they aren’t exactly her favourite people.

So - first thing to mention: biology and history! The Mantisi are unusual, in the sense that they are one of the first milky-way residents (in this iteration of the universe) to gain the knowledge of genetic editing. Now, most Mantisi just got two legged variants and removed wings - and left it there. But the White-Herald… they went mad with it. They edited their features, their minds, even their natural defences, to look more like my subspecies - the Vyrocepters (not very well - but they have a ‘plan’ for that). To save time - and skip hours of lore about who did who and what that meant for whoever else - my Mum boinked one of their albino ones a long while back, and a big cult developed to preserve and advance that particular variation of Mantisi in order to somehow create viable offspring with anyone of my species. So, all White-Herald royals are albino, and have the more… ‘bug-like’ lower bodies, while their soldiers are two-legged, and are a dark shade of green. You won’t get too many who look more like other heralds - but there are some weird mutations for… obvious reasons. Things like four arms, multiples pairs of wings, and durable shells. Ok - so not much of that was biology than it was history, but again, this is a hectic start.

I’ll put this in too, because everyone asks - yeah they do have the same ‘fun-time’ organs. It’s a common thing with Mantisi that people think what goes on downstairs does much more than sit on a different bit of the undercarriage depending on which one you come across, but no - all of them tend to be compatible. At worst the top half of a royal has the soldier placement of the appropriate parts.

Ok! Next bit, next bit… what was the next bit… oh! My opinion! It’s not great. To me, the White-Herald are a stain on the race as a whole, and the universe they inhabit. I personally couldn’t see myself liking any one of them, even with my daughter in mind, and I doubt they would really ‘like’ me, despite their obsession with trying to make a bug and a mammal (I think we’re mammals - GenoDemons I meet won’t specify) work. So I’d say avoid them. That… might also be a good summary. Ok - next time I’ll have this sorted - with the Lybadora. In the meantime I’m gonna figure out how to phrase all this. Blade’s been a help, but in the end it isn’t my dominant hand and it can’t explain things well unless it’s in a pickle. Until next time!”

[sleepyowlwrites]

FTWT CCCLX

Every time I did this on my phone I regret it. But I'm all cozy by the fire and I don't want to get up and go get my laptop. So here we are. Words from my dearest Timespace - oh my darling, I've missed you. I'll send you a letter soon, okay? - @spacetimewraithwrites

All from city story d0

Clear

Rune makes a very obvious note of his presence but doesn’t say anything, and just sticks the object in her hand between her lips.

Jet raises his eyebrows, confused when clear smoke is exhaled through her nostrils. 

“It’s a personal diffuser,” Rune explains without prompting. “Helps me calm down.”

“Was Shadow riling you up? He’s in a bad mood today.” Jet takes his place beside her and leans back, staring at nothing across the street. 

Close

The day is terrible. It’s especially humid and Jet kind of wants to pull his skin off or swim across the street instead of walking. It’s making his temper sour and Moss has banished him from the garage to work off whatever is on his mind elsewhere. Generally, when he gets like this, Moss keeps him close, teaches him new self-defense or combat techniques, or makes him clean something, just so he knows that Jet isn’t going off and getting into fights.

But Shadow had returned from class with a storm in his eyes that he refused to talk about, and Jet hadn’t been helping the atmosphere, so Moss cut him loose instead of Shadow. Of the two of them, at least Jet can take care of himself on the streets. Shadow is scrappy, but lacks motivation. He’ll throw a single punch and then just get beaten up.

Call

He blinks. “You remember my name?”

She lets out the softest laugh. “I’m very good with names, and I heard Shadow call you that a couple of times last week when I dropped by.”

“I have a twin.”

“Copper doesn’t wear his shoulders the same way you do.” The phrasing is peculiar but Jet knows exactly what she means.

Crowd

He isn’t surprised that he picks Cam out from a crowd in a second. The guy’s face is branded onto his brain after their first and only encounter. Jet needs to be aware and able to defend Rune from the right people. He’ll fight anyone, really, but this is a face he’d really like to bruise.

It seems that Cam recognizes him as well, but the dumbass doesn’t recognize a predatory face when he sees one, because he actually detaches from his group of friends and comes over closer to Jet with just the most punchable expression.

Check (continuing directly from above)

“I shouldn’t be talking to you,” is what Cam leads with.

Jet agrees. “You shouldn’t. I’m very ready to just punch your lights out.”

Cam nods, unafraid, apparently. “My friends would just hurt you back. They’re all very good at it. Listen, I have a word of warning that you should pass on to Cloud. Max wants to see her, and if she won’t meet him, he’ll meet her. Soon. And she knows what happens if she doesn’t do what he says.”

Jet really, really wants to clock him. Those are a lot of extra opponents, though, and he reins himself in. He needs to have the strength to check on Rune tonight. “If you or your brother even think about hurting Rune, I will do much worse to you.”

Cross

On the one hand, it’s generous of his brother to put so much effort in reinstating their former bond, and from Jet’s fragmented childhood memories, very accurate to character. On the other hand, the further Copper delves into reasons and motivations, the more Jet is forced to think about them.

“You don’t ever have to tell me more than you’re comfortable with,” Copper reiterates. He’s sitting cross-legged on Jet’s couch, elbows on knees, chin on closed fists.

Jet slumps to the side a little, sliding his hands down his legs. “I’m uncomfortable with telling you anything.”

Light, dry, swing, allow. Bonus: alleviate, master. @ryns-ramblings @gwens-fiction @toboldlywrite @pixelw0rds @faelanvance @oh-no-another-idea

[nicksbestie]

could you do one where a ftm reader is besties with the boys and comes out to them and they all just roll with it and just dive right in like mega supportive

Changes

word count : 750

warnings : descriptions of dysphoria

enjoy!

<3

Coming out is terrifying.

Even more so when it’s coming out to someone that you’ve known for your entire life. It’s so difficult to suddenly change who everyone knows you as, but it’s even more difficult to spend your life being uncomfortable in your own skin. Dysphoria feels like bugs bubbling in your bloodstream, making you want to itch at your skin until it magically changes into the body and shape that you want it to. But of course, that isn’t possible, hence why it’s so painful to deal and to live with. 

You didn’t feel unsafe coming out, but you did feel uneasy. It’s a scary experience, even when you’re surrounded by people you believe to be supportive. Your entire world can change in a heartbeat, and it can feel like the world is a spinning top that just crashed down onto the table, completely out of rhythm. As much as you want to be comfortable in yourself and in your life, you also run the risk of losing that familiarity of the life that you’ve previously been living. Which led you to now. 

You knew that you were trans, you’d figured that out ages ago. The hardest part wasn’t figuring out what you were feeling, it was trying to deal with the fact that you couldn’t, or didn’t want to, come out yet. That was a mentally taxing experience you hadn’t been ready for at the time, and now, having tested the waters with your closest friends, you decided it was now or never. You’d cut contact with your parents, them being religious, and having always shown their dislike for the queer community. Now, it was just you, and your four best friends. 

You had tested the waters, multiple times, and each time it had been brought up you had been met with a supportive response. You had internally jumped for joy every time that it happened, increasing your confidence and courage in coming out. Now, on the day you had decided to do it, you were still shaking with anxiety, hoping for the best, but a small part of your subconscious seemed to know that everything was going to be just fine, no matter what the jumpy part of your brain was trying to convince you of. 

So here you were, awkwardly sitting on the couch of Ashton’s house, him hosting a small house party. And by “house party”, it meant the four guys, and you. He just liked to be dramatic. He had gotten sober two years ago, and the rest of the guys were slightly tipsy, but not enough to not remember anything you said. You waited until you were all sitting in the living room, a random tv show playing in the background, before you decided to speak up. On the first try, words didn’t even leave your mouth. You opened your mouth, faltered, and closed it again, taking a deep breath in through your nose while you attempted to form the right words to accurately articulate how you were feeling, and what you wanted from them. 

“Guys, can I talk to you about something?” 

All but one, Michael, looked up with curiosity in their eyes. Luke elbowed him in the ribs, snickering when he jumped and attempted to swat at him as revenge. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shut up! She wants to tell us something!” 

You cringed at the pronoun, trying not to take it to heart, knowing they didn’t have a clue what was happening. 

“It’s about that, actually.” 

Ashton raised an eyebrow, thinking, but looking a little confused.

“About… what, exactly?” 

You took another deep breath, trying to phrase it in a way they’d understand if they didn’t already. 

“She. Her. They don’t fit me, I’m not a girl.” 

You figured that was a good enough start, knowing there would be questions, but they just kinda stared at you. Not in a bad way, but you could see the whole idea turning over in their minds, carefully trying to pick their next words without unintentionally causing you any harm or offense. 

Calum spoke first. 

“Oh, so you’re trans? Cool!” 

All of the other three echoed his reactions, asking questions on how to refer to you, what name and pronouns to use, if you wanted to start hormone replacement therapy, and more. You couldn’t believe you had ever been scared to tell them, their support was instantaneous, and you were grateful for them as they stood by you every step of your transition.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Brother knows best.

You know something Rantaro?

Yeah?

When you told me that you were gonna provide our ride to Mr Kizakura’s home...

This...isn’t exactly what I thought you meant.

Huh? Is there a problem?

Well...

*Shuichi looks out the window of the helicopter he and Rantaro are flying in.

You’re not afraid of heights are you?

No, not really. It’s just...isn’t this a bit much?

I wouldn’t say so. We’ve got a chopper on hand, and an ace pilot~

...

*Nico gives a thumbs up from the seat up front, wearing prescription sunglasses and headphones.

Plus, if we want to get here and back again, we can avoid traffic and train delays like this, right?

Uh huh...I guess when you put it like that...

Don’t worry, it’s fine. Nico’s not gonna go crashing into anything.

We’re on official business 404, refer to me as Agent Static.

Right, right, sorry...

...

You ok? You really that worried about the flight?

No, I’m alright with the flight...I’m just thinking about other things...

Like what?

Just...a lot of self-loathing really...I’m looking back at everything that happened yesterday night and...realizing that I was so stupid...!

...

I don’t quite know for sure if my feelings on the matter have changed but...doing what I did...hitting Kuripa back, calling everyone useless...and hiding from a truth I couldn’t accept.

Hehe...

*Shuichi hangs his head.

I haven’t changed...I’m the same coward I’ve always been...Unable to accept the truth, therefore I question whether it’s right to even reveal it...

But you still did so, right?

...?

I might not have been around to watch for myself, but I’ve heard stories about the things you did. Sounds like a lot of people have reason to thank you.

I’m not going to claim that I’m the reason we survived the Killing Game, Rantaro...If that was the case, more of us would have gotten out alive.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Killing Game’s, it’s this...No matter what, they always take up around 6 chapters of our lives.

Huh?

I’m saying that no matter what, Danganronpa would have gone on for as long as the creators willed it. If something had gone wrong in production, they would have fixed it.

Say Tsumugi dies, they’ll just make someone else the Mastermind and incorporate it into the plot. 

So...the fact that 3 of you got out as opposed to 2? It’s not much better, but it’s still an improvement over the fact.

...

I still feel like I haven’t learned anything...I thought after the Killing Game ended, and we got a chance to live new lives here, I believed I had what it took to help people...

And with Mrs Kyoko taking a shine to me, I thought I could do it...But in the end, I became arrogant and self-centered, and I took things too far...Now in an attempt to rescue the girl I love, I ended up setting us all back...

I ruined everything...

...

*Rantaro pats Shuichi on the shoulder, and turns him around to look in his eyes.

You know what the biggest problem with you is?

...Huh?

it’s not that you’re weak, nor is it that you let your emotions and feelings get the better of you. You’re smart, compassionate, and you’re generally a good guy.

I know you hit some bumps recently, but even the most patient man cannot retain his stance 24/7.

No...the problem with you, Shuichi, and what has always been your biggest weakness...Is that you rely too much on the people around you.

Huh?

Hm...Ok, maybe the more accurate phrasing would be that you’re...too dependent.

I’m not ashamed to rely on my friends. If anything, I think the fact that I have friends who I can be there for, and who will be there for me, is a good thing.

It is! 

But it’s because you think that, that clouds your judgement.

You’ve gotten so used to having people by your side that you assume that you can fall back on them all the time, every time, whenever you’re in a rough situation.

Up until now, that’s been true. Kaede and Kaito in particular always have your back.

But with the current situation...I mean...You get the picture...

Kaede’s not with me and...Kaito is...

To be honest, you sort of pushed him away. I think that might be on you.

...

Too honest? Sorry...

On top of that though, Kyoko has made it hard for you to really rely or depend on anyone, now that she’s cut you off.

I mean...There’s you who’s helping me now, right?

Hahaha!

I’m sorry...Who was it again that said he couldn’t trust me under any circumstance?

...!?

You’re taking back what you said only because I’m the one person who’s still here for you. Do you see the problem now?

...

Trapped in a potential death trap or not, the reality that you can’t accept, Shuichi, is that your friends aren’t always going to be there for you.

I mean...All your friends are striving towards different goals. Kaito wants to go to space, Maki wants to settle down somewhere...Even though you’re all fighting against Zetsubou, they’re all free to make their own choices, and in those situations...They can’t be there for you, and there’s little you can do to help them. 

Not to mention that in those times, you need to decide yourself exactly what you want to make of yourself too.

The more time you have together, the better. You’re happy with your friends and family around you, and I’m in no way saying you should ditch them and start living a life you’re not enjoying.

But there are times in life where you need to deal with problems ALONE. Or times where you need to take charge and be EVERYONE ELSE’S emotional crutch.

And THAT is what you lack, which stops you from being the kind of leader and detective YOU want to be.

...

To be honest, it’s kind of Kyoko and Byakuya’s fault too. Sure, they had good enough reason, given that you saved the Future Foundation from total inside collapse

But the fact that you were able to pull that off doesn’t necessarily mean you have what it takes to be a Branch Chief. We all have different skills for different tasks.

Rich coming from someone who’s good at almost everything.

Hmph! You have no idea! In our world, Agent 404 is as big a noob as they come!

Seriously, he barely even knows how to brush his teeth properly!

Thank you Static...Good to know you care...

But she’s right you know...I get how easy it is to fall for the trap of relying on everyone around you who seems more capable...But if you do that...then you limit how much you yourself can grow.

If you really think you haven’t changed much...I think that may be the reason why.

...

Maybe you’re right...But what can I do to fix that?

Shuichi...asking me would be missing the point entirely.

Only YOU can figure that out...

...

Hey, I think we’re near our location. Anywhere I can safely land this thing?

There’s a park not too far away, just drop us off there. Take off as soon as we’re out so the local police don’t come for you.

Isn’t Himuro-san a member of the government though?

Yes, but for finance. It’s not a good look if she’s using a chopper for her own personal use.

Just let me know when you finish up down there.

Let’s go.

...Yeah...

*knock!* *knock!* *knock!*

Hm?

*Koichi hears a knock at his door, and goes to answer it. Shuichi and Rantaro stand in the doorway, Shuichi akwardly diverting his gaze while Rantaro retains a stern expression.

H-Hello, Mr Kizakura...It’s been a while.

Ah! Young Mr Saihara, nice of you to drop by!

Who’s your friend?

Oh, this is Ran-

Uh! This is Agent 404...of ERR0RM3SS4GE.

ERR0R0M3SS4GE? Isn’t that this...phantom thief hacker group thing that’s been going around lately?

My real name is Rantaro. I’m actually an old friend of Shuichi’s.

...!

You sure you should be telling me that stuff?

Think of it as an equivalent exchange. We have...lots of questions we need to ask you today. And I’m gonna need you to trust me.

Oh yeah? Hehe...What can I help you with?

...

Mr Kizakura...It’s been a while since we last spoke, so I imagine you’re a little out of the loop...But recently, one of our agents was trapped by Organization Zetsubou in a heavy-duty, militaristic lab.

Sounds rough...

Yes...But the reason we’re here is because we think you may have some information.

The trapped agent turned up some old documents that proved the lab was property of the Future Foundation back in the day...and you, sir, were one of the agents who was present in the operations of the lab.

...!

*Koichi’s face becomes serious.

Just to check...did you find out what exactly was going on at that lab?

All we know is that it has something to do with contamination, and that human test subjects were involved. Your name appeared on the documents though, so we figured we’d have to come to you for any more information.

...

Are you willing to let us in to talk?

Just one question...did Kyoko put you up to this?

No. This is a personal investigation. The more we know about the lab, the better.

Though more than likely, I will be reporting the findings of my results to her once the incident is resolved.

...

Hmph...Fine, I guess I’ll bite. Come on in, both of you.

...!

...That was easy.

*Rantaro and Shuichi fist bump as Koichi lets them in his house.

[hadenclairee]

Just actually officially came out to my mom!

About a year ago, when I first started HRT, I tried to have the conversation with her even though I definitely wasn’t ready, and I started out by telling her that I was “gonna go through some changes over the next couple of years” and that I’d never really felt like I was meant to be a man, and was exploring my gender identity, and she was like “okay.  okay.  well, as long as you aren’t becoming a woman, because that’s the only thing I don’t think I can handle”  In truth, I felt at the time like I was probably non-binary, but to hear that from my mom really hurt.  So I ended the conversation pretty quickly and we moved on, and in the past few months, as I started growing obvious tits, wearing makeup, dressing more feminine (but still kind of androgynous), and changing my voice, I think she caught on to the fact that I was, in fact, “becoming a woman”.

So I wrote her a letter, and was basically like “hey remember this conversation we had a year ago? well, I think you can handle it, and in fact, hopefully you’re ready to hear it because here goes nothing:  I’m becoming a woman”

(Yes, I know, “becoming a woman” isn’t exactly the right language to use to describe transition, but I feel like it helps to start out our communication using common language and maybe shift to more accurate phrasing once we’ve had some more conversations and she becomes a little more educated on the nuances of this stuff.)

Anyways, I told her that I hope this letter can be the beginning of being more open with her about my transition and about my life in general, and that we can have a pretty awesome mother-daughter relationship.  I also cautioned her against “mourning” me, and prepared her for the fact that I’m also going to write a letter to Dad, and that he might not react quite as well (and will probably definitely “mourn”)

The letter to Dad might not happen, though.  I got increasingly nervous after our weekly family dinner as everyone was leaving and it was just me and mom and dad, and I went to go grab my stuff and go home and realized I’d have to hand mom the letter right in front of dad if I intended to deliver it that night at all.  So I very awkwardly hugged both of them, then tried to slip mom the letter sealed in its envelope, and she was like “what’s this?” and I was like “oh, uh, read this when you get the chance.  Bye!  Love y’all!” and both her and dad just stared at me kind of confused as I turned around, bumped into the table, dropped my water bottle, said “oop!” and picked it up, and practically scrambled out the door.

It’s the next morning and I haven't heard from either of them and I’m so anxious right now.  Fuck, I’m so anxious.  I really, really hope they take it well and that I still have loving parents.

[websitesdepotla]

Digital Marketing Agency Tips For Taking Better Notes On Your Content

Are you good at receiving notes on your content? When your supervisor, client, or even colleague, tells you about changes they want made to your content, how do you handle that? This is one of the most important (and least discussed) skills to cultivate as a content creator. As a writer and podcast host at a digital marketing agency, I get notes all of the time. Talking to others in the field, I’ve found this is a muscle that not all content creators have stretched, to use an analogy.

The better you are at taking notes and suggestions, the better your content is going to be. This doesn’t just mean listening (although that’s crucial), it also means being able to interpret what you’re being told even if the person telling you the note isn’t entirely sure what they mean. These tips won’t just help content creators, of course. They’re beneficial for those who work or with anyone else.

What to Always Remember None of this is personal. It’s never personal, not in the slightest. You and the person giving you the note want the exact same thing: for the content to be better. You both want the content to be as good as it can be. To be able to truly take a note/suggestion and use it to make content better, you must always remember that you and the person giving you the note are on the same side.

As you’ve no doubt heard many times, “content is king.” As a monarch, content is demanding. Content must be fed, day after day. As such, it can become a bit of a grind. I’ve found that many of the best content creators have cultivated a sense of wanting notes, wanting suggestions, even if it does lead to more work. Why? Because it will make the work better as well as easier in the future.

Case in point: for many of my clients, I end up doing multiple drafts of their initial blogs, the first drafts of their service and city pages, etc. Sometimes that takes several drafts. But, in the end, all of that work pays off and makes things easier later on.

First, the client is happy that they have been heard, that the content more accurately matches their branding, company, and so forth. Moreover, their content becomes easier to create once I know the voice, the tone, what they want emphasized, and so forth.

One Question to Ask When taking a note/suggestion from someone, there’s one question you always want to ask yourself: “What is the note behind this note?” To phrase it another way: “What are they really saying?”

To use an example from earlier in my content writing career, clients would occasionally say some version of: “I want shorter, tighter sentences.” Something like that.

That surprised me. It did so for many reasons, not the least of which was that many of my sentences were often shorter. When I looked at the work, when I thought about it, I realized that the problem was that my paragraphs were too long.

By making shorter paragraphs, it made the read easier. Then, people who were professionals in their fields but not professional writers were better able to read and understand the content. Now, I practically never receive that note from a client.

As a content creator, it’s your job to not just create the content but to understand how it’s perceived. Your first audience, almost invariably, is the client. Once you know exactly what they’re looking for and how to “finetune” the content for them, then and only then is the content ready to post for the rest of the world.

How to Respond

When someone gives you notes/critiques about your content, you want to respond the right way. That means responding in such a way that both strengthens your connection/relationship to the client/supervisor giving you notes, yes, but also that makes the content better.

What I often think of is some version of “Yes. And…”

Have you ever seen or done Improv comedy? If so, then you probably know that the most important thing the performers can do is to cultivate an attitude of “Yes, and…” with their other performers. That way, they can work together, they can create something that many people can enjoy.

The same is true with your content.

When your supervisor/client makes a suggestion, I agree 99% of the time (because they’re usually right). Then, I also make sure to add the “and.” Sometimes, that “and” is: “and I’ll make sure to remember that going forward,” or “I’ll make similar changes all throughout your content.”

This doesn’t mean that you should fail to stand up for yourself, to not believe in the content you created, or anything of that nature. If you feel necessary, explain why you did what you did, and what led you to create that which you created.

That said, being able to take suggestions and notes from your clients and supervisors alike is an important, important skill for building better content today and tomorrow.

A Digital Marketing Agency for Your Content and More As a content creator here at Website Depot, I’m just one part of an entire team. Our team consists of web developers, web designers, social media professionals, videographers, SEO strategists, and so many others. I love being a part of a team that works cohesively, where we all build each other up (in addition to the projects we work on for our clients).

To schedule a free consultation, you can message us through our site or give us a call.

[jonathankatwhatever]

Trying to work this through one more time. That is, this Understanding is a Storyline, same as any other. And iteration is practice, which has an interesting effect beyond the fitting together of responses so action happens quickly and with suitable assurance. That is what happens, but there is more: iteration builds intangible abstract structures which attach to the behavior of any tangible object, over time and in any moment. Perhaps a good description is that the ordinal measure or count extends significantly past where you are, as a tangible object, at any moment.

This is the same as saying there are gravitational waves because the spatial distortion is literally over the Extent of grid squares which connect that event to this perception of that event. Only now do we experience what was said long ago. And that is information transferred at the basic level of counting, not something we can label tangible as in made of matter.

That’s interesting. I did not expect to grab something that deep, but it flashed before my eyes like a prize or treat for a hungry animal. So, we made the obvious connection that gravity waves are transferred at the IL so therefore they are distortions in grid squares. What do those look like? It looks like it’s approaching the limit of the Alternation which began in the past. This is getting deep and I’ll try to hang on. The Alternation in the past starts as the count of 1 and 2:1, etc., but the amplitude across those counts is enormous and that takes a long time to die down. That dying down occurs within the gs construction process for the various other tObjects. That was clumsily said, but I mean to remember that we’re constructing these existences as objects, both tangible and intangible, and that there are thus levels of connection, with those that move at the IL being the most fundamental in the sense they contain information which doesn’t have mass.

Think about that because it’s deep. Doesn’t have mass means it travels in direct communication with whatever pattern information exchanges or presents to connect the IL to enlarged SBE or to make Triangular. That is how information is infused as photons come into existence. So when an electron exists, whoa, that became serious. Ended with let there be light translating to the creation of matter because matter’s existence means there is energy which expreses to connect that matter. The reason is the matter must exist within grid squares, so there must be connections; it isn’t an emptiness but another form of grid squares space. Those connections at the electron level express as an LC mass. I’m assuming that 16 in the mass is obvious enough given the meanings we have generate for CM16 and LC. So, we have a tiny bit of matter which happens to fit to LC, which thus means 2Things as drawn so many times.

What does it means to say an electron hops up or drops down a level? If you go down, a photon emits, a piece of information which thus describes the work done, the grid squares counted, which connect those two states so both are accurately described. The example playing in me now is that I began whistling Take On Me and it morphed into connected themes and then unconnected themes all at that same catching cadence. I finally get cadence as the ordinal confluence with the cardinal of the count, so it means the pace of resolution of the harmonic parts, which obviously stack over the beats.

So when an electron absorbs a photon, that says this is the work that gets you up to here. That is really cool because it communicates as LC enacted in actual matter so it literally connects 2 levels together exactly like it looks.

I look at that phrase: like it looks. And I realize, yeah, like it looks to me but literally to no one else because literally no one else knows. I take for granted we’ve solved dozens, probably scores of fundamental problems, because there’s always an infinity to unravel. That’s the point, isn’t it? That as we can better understand the finite, which we make by understanding the infinite, then the more we understand. Was that clear? We are understanding into the infinite, and that means we are creating finite spaces. They are finite in more than one sense: they may hit 0 or they may approach a Boundary limit which reads as a 0 in the appropriate perspective. Hitting 0 may mean an even, because one consequence of LayerView is the generation of negative integers.

That came as a total surprise even as I was typing it. What? You must be thinking of the szK counting out being treated as a 0 so reading around the L-count within ++ generates the count up, the count down, the count spreading to each side from the szK, etc. That logic works. It’s the same as why gs primes form, and thus why L9 is not prime: each layer counts each way it possibly can count within the constraint of the Extent of that count. That is a consequence of them being constructed when you count them, when you understand that idea runs very deep, that an instantaneous count, like what you can write down, stands for and acts as an ideal to which all the various layers of counts must fit. As in, if the only solution is prime, then it’s prime. That’s why a prime like 419 is so cool. It’s full count of Hexagonal, as described, and it’s an Attachment away from all the meanings in 420, which means all the ways that 419 becomes this unique value fits and connects to that complete Hexagonal.

I know this is getting good because I looked up top and realized I only made it one paragraph before I stumbled over a fundamental Understanding, which then led to at least one more. Maybe I should try to continue. We were at the count in sK extending way past where you are on zK compared to where you will be. Think in ideals: there will be a Path that takes you out along that zK. That Pathway has a lot of dimensionality orthogonal to the project, meaning nSquare forms, which are then orthogonal to fCM so there’s a layer of fCM related to every grid square which contains what we’re talking about. Like a person or a planet or galaxy is in projective layers within D3-4//4-3 Space, and that Space as a projection generates an orthogonal space which generates an orthogonal space so we have 2 layers separated by the nSquare connecting orthogonal. A 1Square is sides of root1/2, which of course is the inverse of root2. This connects the 1Square to the 2Square as nSquares. I am being told a better way to think about this is to imagine a grid squares layer to some IC, meaning it’s a count of some number of grid squares. Now imagine that that nSquare is counted orthogonally to the grid squares and, as noted before, also to fCM. Both connect using Injection.

That clears up what we’re talking about. A gs layer translates in and out of nSquares and in and out of fCM. Note that this engages the idea of patterns in fCM. And note, I’m complety surprised to realize that attaches fCM patterns, like 50:50 or the angel and the devil on shoulders, to D3-4//4-3 Spaces represented in the gs sheet or layer. Mechanics.

Need a break.

[nervouswaltz]

Hello! Happy June! It's Pride and I have another question (9/30)

Yo, today, today, I had a long shift, so I will be talking about something shorter: Bi-Lighting!

Bisexual Lighting refers to the use of pink, purple, and blue lights simultaneously, usually in film and tv, but also in Youtube and music videos. Obviously, not all who use this are deliberately doing so to represent/portray bisexuality, but it is fair to say that queer artists and creators who do so, know exactly what they're doing.

This colour scheme is and was popular on its own due to the revival of the 1980s aesthetic, and it is often associated with retrowave or synthwave music.

While it may not have originally been used to slyly represent a character's sexuality, this meaning has become cemented in the public zeitgeist and is an established part of bisexual storytelling. The generally accepted invention of the "Bisexual Lighting" concept came from tumblr (<- which shows up a lot when it comes to modern queer media/trends tbh). It was invented by a Sherlock fan in 2014 who believed that the lighting was being used to signal that Dr. John Watson was bisexual, and therefore Johnlock was real and would eventually appear on the show. It may not have been an accurate prediction, but it did give us this phrase.

Obviously, not all or even most of the instances of bisexual lighting are deliberate ways of conveying sexuality, and it is simply just a very pretty and appealing lighting combination, but personally, I love making everything queer, so I'm into it lmao. Something that is interesting about the colour purple is that historically, it has been used to represent royalty or the divine, and also magic, aliens, and the unknown, so frankly I think we should embrace it more.

So for today's question, in your opinion, which Minecraft block gives the most Bi energy to you? (please, use whatever criteria you prefer, this a dumb question for a reason, a little light-hearted thing for a bit of a break from deep questions!! :))

Happy Pride 🌈 🎉

hmmmm. i am not bisexual so i do not feel like i have authority to state what is or isn’t a Bisexual block however i do feel as though all the sculk (is that how you spell it?) is very mlm. to me. because i like it.

[drevmnotnap]

i will gladly air my thoughts about the drituation Thank You /gen, i’m an adult & a csa survivor for reference on where this perspective is coming from

i left the fandom and don’t really feel ok consuming dream content anymore but for me it isn’t so much about the drituation itself ? it’s about the bullshit i saw from the community in response to it, plus october was so difficult that i just have a hard time seeing any of it

honestly it was some of the mindsets i saw starting to take hold through the community that scared me and pissed me off. i saw people use phrases like “she’s not acting like a victim,” “how do you not realize you’re being groomed until someone tells you?? the math ain’t mathing,” etc. people started poking holes in every piece of her story and background, and watching a perfect victim narrative get spread around felt like a punch in the gut. people even said things along the lines of “guys come on, can dream be a predator? we’re talking about the guy who does the gay run in the rain and uses bath bombs.” like you couldn’t name a million endearing things that any confirmed predator has probably done in their life. the idea that you could use any of those arbitrary things to determine who is or is not a safe person is just…dangerous

sorry this turned out so long yikes i just . have so many thoughts about the lengths the fandom went and the people they hurt along the way. not the whole fandom of course, not even most of it- but enough to make it hard to go back

firstly, i’m really sorry for everything you must have seen— some of the reactions were definitely more than a little icky, for a variety of reasons, and i know there’s no way seeing any of that could be easy.

personally, just to be clear, i don’t think the messages/interactions were indicative of grooming. it’s (at worst, imo) irresponsible, maybe inappropriate considering the specific circumstances, on dream’s part, but famous people having romantic/sexual relationships with fans isn’t exactly unheard of, and i think, in general, there’s a stark difference between grooming and other predatory behavior, and dream’s actions and interactions.

that being said, the community’s reaction (from what i’ve been told + what i’ve taken the time to seek out) was... yeah, it wasn’t pretty. obviously there were people who went straight to “he’s a groomer he needs to be deplatformed” which i don’t think is an accurate view to have (considering what grooming is and the facts we know or can assume/infer to be true), but there was also a shocking number of people who immediately dismissed the claims and even some who did make jokes about it, and that comes off as incredibly insensitive. of course, most reactions were immediate, emotional responses, which explains a lot, but it doesn’t erase how harmful and insensitive it was to survivors/victims. and, yes, saying “how can he be a groomer, he’s so [insert reasons]” is dangerous— it furthers the mindset that people you believe to be innocent and harmless can’t be horrible people, which isn’t always the case, and that mindset is a big reason why so many victims’ stories go unheard and un-believed. i’m not saying it fully applies here (as dream isn’t a groomer/predator), but it does raise concerns about that kind of stuff in the long-run and the bigger picture.

it’s honestly really complicated— especially when it comes to dream— because we can’t just take everything at face value. there are people out there who absolutely would make a false accusation just for the purpose of accusing him and tearing him down. that doesn’t mean, however, that all allegations should be immediately dismissed, especially with an accusation as serious as grooming, and that’s what a lot of people tried to do in the immediate aftermath. i think the most logical course of action would’ve been to assume that amanda’s story was true (or parts of it were, as claimed by dream, correct me if i’m wrong), and then come to realize that it wasn’t grooming and/or predatory from there, instead of trying to deny its validity right off the bat by making jokes or by trying to find holes in her story. i know a lot of the reactions were formed around big-name blogs who then reacted negatively— red, hari, dwtupdates on twt, etc.— and that caused misinformation and “dream is a groomer!”s to spread, so that explains some of it, but yeah it’s still really complicated.

anyway, to close this out, it’s totally valid of you to have left! i know i only stayed because, well, i have a lot of fun here and i genuinely do enjoy dream’s (+ dteam’s) content, but i don’t blame or judge anyone for leaving. unless they’re one of the people who switched up drastically and started saying they hate dream + he’s ugly + his music sucks + kaceytrn was on the right side of history + all the other shit out there, but that’s a very different conversation.