#dittos-rant

[dittos-blog-dylanobrien]

Can you guys PLEASE stop tagging (character) X reader IF ITS NOT THAT CHARACTER 😭 I'm sick and tired of searching (character) X reader and it's every different character possible X reader like😭😭

[ukfrislandembassy]

Another way that 'phoneme inventories' mislead conlangers: seemingly systematic palatalisation contasts.

So you're looking at the consonant system of e.g. Russian, and you think to yourself, 'Man, that's a lot of contrasts, and most consonants come in a palatalised/unpalatalised opposition, I want to make a language like that'.

So you go about thinking how you're going to create this systematic contrast, and you think 'well, I want to generate it from vowels as per usual for language, but I also want to have a vowel inventory afterwards.' In most instances I've seen (and tried myself), this ends up with a symmetrical set of front-rounded vowels which palatalise preceding consonants and then retract, complemented by a set of back-unrounded vowels that front.

Here's the thing though. That particular kind of sound change is barely attested. It is seemingly attested in Nenets, but after that the trail runs dry. The category error here seems to be the assumption that 'X is a phoneme, therefore we need some way of historically deriving the fact that it must be able to stand by itself as a phoneme, right?'

But that's where the category error is, because actually the palatalised consonants in a language like Russian generally aren't evenly distributed across their various contexts.

Let's start with a simple example. Standard Japanese doesn't have *che, *she or *je, because those vowels didn't trigger palatalisation in the Japanese varieties from which the standard derives, and furthermore palatal consonants before vowels other than *i are mostly found in loanwords from Chinese. Thus we can observe that palatal consonants in Japanese have a different distribution to non-palatalised consonants when it comes to which vowels they can precede.

A similar point can be made about palatalisation in Slavic, because it's again skewed by which vowel follows. The only reason that Russian even has palatal consonants before /o/ is because of a funky Russian-only rule which backs and rounds *e before hard (coda) consonants (in stressed syllables only!). For most other Slavic languages a syllable of the *sho type is rare to non-existant. And even in those languages where it does occur, it's not like these kinds of syllables are equally as common as palatal consonants before front vowels (where non-palatalised consonats are almost non-existant). The only context in Russian where palatalised and non-palatalised consonants are on even close to an even footing is word-finally, and only because Russian actually bothers to preserve contrastive palatalisation there (unlike many other Slavic languages).

[mcfanely]

My army grows more and more with each day that passes

[blanketorghost]

WHY ARE YOU SO EXPENSIVE

hey guys anyone wanna buy me this sitting cuties sableye plushie </3 /j

[dittolicous]

the organization i reached out to for financial help, in which my openings statement i stated there was no one big single hardship ive gone through, instead a thousand little ones, and that id even just accept financial counseling on how to get things under control... and after waiting a week in which i got two disconnection notices, they asked me again what my hardship was =)

im just. not even going to bother responding anymore. no one cares unless its one big problem. no one cares that its the one thousand tiny things, that they refuse to help with, that bury us in debt and suffering

i didnt lose my job or break a limb, no, i just suddenly lost/had to euthanize four different pets, had to cut my work hours to do an unpaid internship for my degree, which in turn required ubering just to get home at night and resulted in me getting covid, both of which drained my bank account, caused me to miss more work for over a month, and have completely fucked up my sense of smell so all i can fucking smell is fucking smoke, i have a fucking tooth with a hole in it slowly rotting away and cutting into my lip but i cant get it pulled without having to fix to fucking tooth behind it, and of course i missed a single fucking class to get my bachelor degree and i dont qualify for anymore financial aid so id have to pay out of pocket hahaha.

but thsts aaaaaall my fault and no one cares, so i dont deserve help, nope not at all.

its not like the denial of help is what led me into this fucking pit in the first place or anything.

why do i even fucking bother trying. they dont fucking care. none of them do. they just want to lord over us and shame us for being poor and stoopid, just get a better job and dont ever have anything nice hurhur

[ynsvnte]

My brain

[arthyritis]

I wonder how long this pokemon go habit will last

[peppermintack]

if virals actually had a tv show, especially a formulaic one, there would be at least one episode where stacey shows up and no one questions it. actually if virals had a tv show stacey would just be in it full stop

[ch4mpagnedrought]

compensation

[full series]

mdni ! art donaldson

summary: you and art cant help but try and compensate for everything you’re missing out on now that tashi and patrick are together.

ever since tashi had suggested a game of tennis for her number and patrick won, its left you and art to roam around the stanford campus like two little lost puppies, begging for their attention when patrick comes to visit tashi.

patrick has made it impossible to get a hold of the girl, her dorm room always locked and her absence in the daily work-outs the two of you usually have made very obvious. not to mention the betrayal art must be feeling, having his best friend be only in the adjacent building to him, but never coming to actually see him.

you’ve had to find ways to preoccupy yourselves, and stop you from going on an angry rampage, like;

hitting racket to ball in the middle of the court, not even bothering to play a real game. “my prof is making me rewrite my whole assignment this week.” you complain, aiming the ball at the green fencing at the sides and watching it bounce back in art’s direction for your own botched version of squash. he laughs loudly, “who knew you were so bad at everything besides tennis.” you shoot him a scowl and his eyes widen, shoulders shrugging unapologetically as he swings his arm once again.

spring fading into summer means that evenings still have a little light in them, and you fight the urge to lie straight down on the tarmac and look up at the greying sky. the light breeze washes through art’s strawberry blonde hair, swaying it to the side to expose his brows that furrow when you let the ball bounce away between your legs, looking at him with a tense expression. the thought that tashi and patrick were somewhere doing god knows what (you knew what) and completely ignoring you made a reappearance in your head suddenly, and it boiled your blood. “ugh! im gonna kill them!” you huff out, grabbing the ball from the ground and stomping to where you left your stuff. art’s arm finding the both of your shoulders, “ditto that.”

having lunch at the food hall together: waiting in line for the same exact salad that you get every day, curtesy of your game-preparation meal plan and taking a seat on the bar stools that overlook the rest of the campus. stabbing your fork into the frail pieces of lettuce in your plastic bowl, art taking another bite of his churro in silence and licking away all the rouge sugar particles from his lips. “you know, patrick didn’t even bother to call me about his visit.” art says, taking off his red baseball cap just to put it back on his head again. “what a dog.” you scoff, shaking your head and taking a sip of your smoothie that tastes a little grainy from the protein powder. you would’ve continued to rant if you hadn’t spotted tashi and patrick walking hand-in-hand in the distance, all smiles and giggles; it makes you sick. “look.” you point it out to art and he mocks patrick in a high-pitched voice, “hey tashi aren’t i so cool? i play pro and i’m totally not cheating on you.” you chuckle, leaning over to snag a bite of his churro.

and confiding in each other in art’s dorm late at night, when the haunting noises coming from the other side of your wall get too much.

his room is surprisingly so…boyish. a couple posters of tennis stars on the walls that seem so out of place, like he put them there for the sole purpose of taking up space. his medals are hung up on the corner of his wardrobe, tinkering on the edge and there is an unidentified pile of clothing in the corner.

his sheets are a deep maroon colour and you lie flat across them, both of your heads leaning on the single flat pillow he owns, legs crossed. his ceiling has remnants of a water leak the university tried to paint over and you study it from below. “i wonder what they’re doing right now.” art hums, putting his hands behind his head, and letting you rest your head on his bicep.

you shoot up, glancing down at him, one brow lifted and eyes narrow, “i can tell you exactly what they’re doing right now,” you say, scrambling up onto your knees, “’patrick i need your racket right now!’’’ you moan tauntingly, rolling your eyes back and crossing your arms over your chest. art cackles, stomach contracting and grabbing onto your shoulder for support. his hand is pumping warm with blood, hovering over your skin for longer than socially acceptable, and his fingers caressed by the long strands of your curly hair that fall at your sides.

running over to his room meant that you hadn’t had enough time to grab a change of clothes to sleep in, so he graciously lent you one of his t-shirts, a navy one with white embroidered writing that you hadn’t bothered to read, which prods at the aching in his head to see you without it.

“when was the last time you slept with someone?” your question catches art off guard, lying back down next to him and watching the blush creep up onto his cheeks, eyes darting away somewhere to think of an answer. “oh come on, was it that unforgettable?” you laugh. he knew when exactly when the last time was, but the thought that him sleeping with someone had crossed your mind, putting the idea of the two of you together into his own had clouded his head, making it unbearably difficult to think, or speak.

“maybe last month” art estimates when the last time he saw the girl in one of his classes that he casually slept with from time to time, your expression remaining unchanged, which whirls something inside of his stomach. you nod, smile spreading across your lips, and eyes glancing down to art’s partially parted ones. art adjusts himself, propping his head up with his hand and looking down at you, “when was the last time that you slept with someone?”

its unclear to him whether you're joking with your response. “ask me that tomorrow.” it spins his head until he sees double, having to shut his eyes for a second to regain consciousness. your nonchalant smile quite frankly irks him, because you seem so unaware of how he is sliding the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, preparing just incase you decide that you want to kiss him. or the fact that he moved his leg upwards along the bed to cover his raging boner at just the mere idea of you and him together.

the shirt he lends you rides up on your hips, obviously showing off the black panties that you’re wearing and the neck-line hangs low enough to show the indent of your collarbone that he imagines licking a stripe over.

you thrum, looking up at art through dark eyelashes, “isn’t it so unfair how tashi and patrick can ignore us just to get at each other?”

he got the hint, every crumb you’ve put down he’s followed and scooped up all in one go, sighing out a weak, “yeah” that sounds more like a whine, and leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

the taste of your lip gloss he had missed sweetens his mouth immediately and the faint smell of a chocolatey lotion on your skin sends him into complete overdrive, left hand desperately reaching for the side of your face to take you deeper into him. he sinks himself down, pressing his chest into yours and disconnecting his lips to breathe out a groan at the sensation of your boobs against him like a boy who's never felt them before.

his face is burning hot, lips even hotter as they move simultaneously with yours, covering the perimeter of your mouth with long and drawn out movements to fully get the taste of you hes been dreaming of ever since that hotel room. his hands roam down to the curvature of your waist, taking a strong grip to it to make sure his fingerprints forever remember it, then down to your hips, kneading the flesh.

with him over you, he pulls away from your arms that are wrapped around his neck, pulling the hem of his shirt to unveil your midriff and the black lace that frames your lower waist, your thighs pressed together to catch the heat that he manifests within you, “oh my god.” it might just be the lewdest sight he has ever seen, along with your swollen lips that are glistening with his saliva.

he can barely keep away the moans that try to escape his mouth when he lowers himself down to you, eager lips pressing into your hip, lapping at the surface of your skin with a desperation only art could have, along the hem of your panties, and back up your stomach while your fingers entangle with his blonde locks.

your pulse quickens, exhaling his name out when his finger pulls your underwear to the side, letting the air hit your leaking core, a smile playing at art’s lips. “please, please art.” you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the sensation of one of his digits swiping through your folds overcome you.

he nibbles at your inner thighs, soft licks soothing the area as one of his fingers slides inside you, while the other gropes at your breast through your shirt. his mind is completely consumed by you, watching every change in your expression with his fingers pumping in and out of you, flush on your face and brows knitting every time he draws back.

your legs instinctively move over his shoulders, trapping him around you to continue the motion and giving him the chance to tilt his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the thigh that is thrown over him. “is this okay?” he asks, caressing a hand down your calf and watching the way your hand reaches out to grab him by the wrist.

“lie down art” you keen, his eyes narrow and he pulls back with a sense of confusion that is overrode with your impatience, ushering him below you. so he does, leaning against the headboard whilst you throw yourself onto his hips, his jaw tilting upwards to unconsciously fulfil the want of his lips devouring the whole of your figure.

the shirt he lent you doesn’t last long, ending up in the pile on his floor and letting him ravish in the sight of your bare torso. he gasps out your name, wandering hands reaching out to massage your breast, flesh filling out the gaps between all five of his fingers. “take this off” you strangle out, gesturing to the shirt he is wearing, disheveled hair falling back into his face that burns hot when you let your eyes roam down to his abdomen. even the weight of your ass pressing into his dick through his shorts is teetering him to climax, hands not knowing where to put themselves when he wants to grab a hold of all of you.

your fingers wrap around the waistband of his shorts that he is wearing, pulling down his boxers at the same time and freeing his erection to slap back onto his stomach, recalling something patrick said about the time he taught art to jerk off. the palm of your hand ghosts his cock, restraining yourself from taking it into your hands there and then, “can i?” even the way you sigh out the question has the hairs on art’s arms standing up and mouth swallowing saliva in anticipation. “yes, yes.” he whines, brows furrowing up at you and all of his muscles tensing.

with a gentle touch, he guides you above him, his hands at your sides as you spread yourself open for him, sinking down only to the tip before he grabs your waist and pauses in the position. he looks like a little helpless, bottom lip between his teeth and an alarmed look in his face that says if you go any further he’ll come right now. “i’ll go slow,” you whisper, a small smirk on your face that’s hard to resist when his shimmering eyes try to find the last slither of dignity within him, “i promise.” you smile reassuringly and he glances away, the flush in his cheeks getting a little deeper.

you keep your promise, slowly lowering yourself down onto him, goosebumps fevering your skin and palms laying flat across his abdomen to steady yourself.

taking him in completely, you whimper out his name and his hands journey to graze your back, up to your shoulder blades where he presses them into you to pull you into him, mouth suctioning down the valley of your breasts. his moans vibrate back into your skin when you pull back up from him, stimulating every single nerve ending in his length like it never has before. you set a pace, slow and steady for art, snapping your hips down onto his in a way that knocks the wind out of you each time, gasping for air. he keeps you close to him, rolling his hips to meet you in the middle and put some of that athlete stamina to use and murmuring your name with every movement.

his finger moves your hair from your shoulder, so he can press soft pecks onto the surface, whilst you clutch the wooden headboard, growing impatient and consequently pounding him into you. his moans purr into your ear, grabbing onto your ass to keep you still as he thrusts himself into you from below and shakily calling out an, “im gonna come.”

you nod, clasping around his biceps and leaning down to nip at his neck, losing composure the more your walls contract around him. you ignore the muscles in your legs that ache and your lungs that can’t seem get a hold of the air that is shared between you to continue to mercilessly plunge him deeper into you until it feels like you’re melting into one another, a shudder sending itself down your bare back and deepening the heat that builds in your core.

art is panting, popping your tit into his mouth one last time before falling still, twitching inside of you and releasing all of his seed into you until it overflows from below. your name echoes out of his mouth, whimpering and whining it out until he can open his eyes back up and centre his vision on you burning every last bit of energy to bounce on his dick.

you lean forward onto him, eyes rolling back into your head when reaching your climax and pressing your burning cheek against his face to feel all of him. he brushes his hand down your back comfortingly, you heaving into the crevice of his neck that glistens with sweat and feeling your walls contract around him the last couple times.

art sighs your name out, pressing his lips into your cheek and letting a smile spread across his face when you brush the dampened hair out of his forehead to get a better view of his eyes.

your body feels limp, falling back down next to him with a post-sex fatigue that follows you all the way into the next morning, where you sit at a table in the food hall, thanking art for bringing you some breakfast and trying to ignore the echoing of all the noises he made last night in your head.

“fuck i really need to work on that assignment today” you groan, taking a bite into a slice of honeydew with your head in the palm of your hand. art watches and nods, a false portrayal of an active listener when what he’s really focusing on is the way your lips curl around the slice, biting off a chunk and closing your lips around it in a way that makes him reminisce that he was right there too only a couple hours ago. “i can help.” he offers, truly from the kindness of his heart that kindly wants to spend the rest of his life looking at you.

“you wish.” you scoff, “i’m not allowed to be alone in a room with you anymore.”

art takes a swig of his water to hide the grin that spreads on his face, and when he makes eye contact with a random student from across the hall he feels like they heard that too. he wishes they could hear, and know that you, the best tennis player stanford has probably ever had, are having to physically restrain yourself from him.

“what are you smiling about?” the familiar voice of patrick calls out from a few strides away, in a pair of indigo levis and a white tee, grabbing onto arts shoulders and lowering himself down to his level to grab his chin playfully. art swats him away immediately, pushing patrick down into a chair. and tashi grazes your shoulders softly with her hand when taking a seat next to you and stealing a piece of your fruit from your bowl, “good morning.”

“morning.” you sigh out, taking a sip of your tea and hoping that it isn’t totally obvious that you slept with your friend. but tashi takes notice of the slight frizz in your hair, a dishevelled-ness that is never usually there, so it wasn’t her intention to call you out in front of the four of you when she asks, “why do you look hungover?” she even moves a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at the colour under your eyes. your brows furrow, eyes glancing to the left of you at the two boys whose expressions couldn’t be anymore different. art’s poker face is awful, he’s trying to keep his face composed but his posture slumps under the weight of patrick’s hand that spreads across over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of your breakfast to act like your lungs aren’t constricting and you aren’t going into fight or flight, “late night i guess.”

theres a moment of silence, everyone in their heads peacefully while you wish you could get into art’s and find out what he’s thinking about your pathetic lie.

“nice shirt.” patrick says.

“thanks." you reply, swiping over the embroidered ‘mark rebellat tennis academy’ with a finger and looking up at patrick, who meets your eyes with a knowing smirk that makes you feel silly for not assuming that patrick would have memorised art’s whole closet, or recognise the school they went to.

and when patrick squeezes art’s shoulder and asks whether he is “up for a game?” you suddenly become hyper aware of how much his gaze slips past art’s eyes and down onto you as they stand up from the table, eyes squinting and a stupid smile on his face. the combination is so piercing you’ve become aware that even if tashi believed your lie, and art thinks he’s got away scott free—he knows, and he’s letting you know.

his hand ruffles the hair on art’s head, arm falling over his shoulders and drawing him into himself, “we have a bunch of catching up to do, art.” he keeps art close to him as they walk away towards the tennis courts, leaning in to whisper something into his ear after the both of them briefly turned around to wave you and tashi goodbye.

tashi seems unphased by their behaviour, continuing to braid a small of piece of your hair that she unconsciously started. “you know patrick’s about to tell art all about your get together.” you chuckle and tashi scoffs, leaning back into her chair, “he wouldn’t say anything” she reassures, “also we didn’t even do anything.” she adds in quickly, stealing another piece of watermelon from your bowl and taking a bite to avoid talking about the topic like you hadn’t just done that. you smile at her, and she widens her eyes to let you know that she’ll tell you all about last night later.

“i wouldn’t be so sure.” you shake your head, stealing back the half-bitten melon from in between her fingers and finishing it off.

[pumpkinprincess22]

Butting in slightly because you have unlocked Classics Student Rose TM. There is a misconception about 'the original version' of myths (we literally had a lecture about this the other day) Myths come from an oral tradition where things changed and were developed.

Even works like The Iliad and Odyssey which we consider to be 'canon' had different versions and other lesser known works portrary different versions of the Trojan War myth.

The myths of Persephone and Hades are no exception. There are versions where Persephone goes willingly. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter is probably the most well known version but by no means the only.

I completely agree about the 'feminist retelling' point though. I am writing my dissertation on Medusa in modern fiction and the number of authors who completely ignore the complexities of Medusa myths and portrayals in the classical world in favour of 'victim reclaiming her own story'. Its why the Percy Jackson TV interpretation is interesting because it marries the Monster stories with the Victim.

You and I share a lot of the same literary opinions so I want to know your opinion on this Some people are waaay too invested in a lot of the retelling and essentially remakes of mythology and not the actual history of the myths. For example, Hades and Persephone's origin, where she was literally kidnapped by the god, sure they might have had the "more stable" marriage compared to Zeus and Hera, but it still not great. (It is a mythological marriage from a culture that had horrible views on women)

Ares as the absolute bloodthirsty monster when he was originally a protector of women

Even the humans in myths aren't free from it when I see people get genuinely para-social fandom with Odysseus when analyzing the myth compared to the musical and video games that feature the character.

The modern interpretation of myths have made a lot of people forget the origins and should anyone base something on the original myth it gets extreme hate. I played a game where Persephone killed Hades because he kidnapped her, which is a valid interpretation and continuation of the myth. That is not saying one can't prefer or like the retellings, I find the more modern interpretation of the Hades and Persephone myth great (it is just the most common example rn), but people can't neglect the original myth.

I could go on a fucking tangent about the hades and Persephone myth.

Because it’s not even that, it’s literally called ‘Hymn to Demeter’… It’s about a woman literally defying the gods in order to get her daughter back from the underworld. It wasn’t a tale of an overbearing parent, but a loving one, she wasn’t against Hades and Persephone because age gaps, or whatever, she was against her daughter being taken away from her, or, in a metaphorical sense, dying. It was a tale to give power back to mothers and young girls forced into arranged marriages, where the daughters were taken away from their families, and it was also to make people feel less intimidated by death, as it also promised to the followers of Persephone intimate knowledge about the underworld.

But I’ll stop about that. I think some of the modern interpretations are cool, they just lack the meaning of the original tale.

I think a lot of modern retellings are trying too hard to make myths ‘comfortable’ and sanitised, instead of merely adapting them to the new context. They want Hades and Persephone without the work, so they make Demeter an overbearing parent, as it’s the best they can do to make Hades and Persephone ‘okay’.

I’m not very well-versed in other myths, but honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if similar issues ensued. I know some have changed certain things in order to get their point across, if they’re trying to emphasise certain points, which I think is excusable, to an extent. But when you’re changing something so *fundamental*, it gets so fucking jarring.

I also think retellings need to stop using such negative language about the original. ��Feminist retelling’ ‘giving a voice to characters that didn’t originally have one’ and it’s not feminist or giving a voice to the voiceless, it just talks about the original in a really non-helpful way. It just gives people the idea that original myths are these terrible out-of-date stories and not the basis for so much modern literature.

[see-arcane]

me: "Wow, The Green Knight (2021) dir. David Lowery, starring Dev Patel is such a breathtaking classical epic. It's so richly portrayed in its fantastical and character study elements. The dynamic between Gawain and the Knight, plus the pseudo-throuple chemistry of him and the 'Lord and Lady' is so well done. Gawain seeing the ruinous vision of where cowardice and pure self-preservation would lead him as opposed to a dignified ending (so he thinks it will be) and being a fellow of honor and a kept word was incredibly powerful. What a marvel of storytelling. If the movie is this good, I can only imagine how great the original poem must be!"

The original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: This poem is 99.99% descriptions of feasting, pretty armor, and how great wonderful hot awesome virtuous beloved Gawain is. Also how utterly jacked and virile and sexy and green the Green Knight is. No it will not explain how or why an explicitly pagan Fae-coded forest entity is a devout Christian, ditto his wife and castle staff. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, enjoy this spontaneous rant at the end where Gawain blames his and all other great men's ills on falling for evil icky women wiles--directly after being told by the Green Knight that his wife was working under the Knight's orders to tempt and test Gawain in the first place. Green Knight and his lady are still DTF and let Gawain crash with them though, xoxo

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

theodore nott headcanons

everyone shut up im world building for myself

he's known as really quiet and intimidating

people know his father was (is) a death eater so everyone that's not in slytherin usually avoids him

he hangs out with malfoy and his friends (substituting crabbe and goyle for mattheo and enzo✨✨✨)

not because he thinks muggle-borns are scum but just because he's known them since he was younger (their parents are....colleagues)

his mom died with he was young so he was raised by his dad

resents his dad for obvious reasons. cough cough death eater

but also because he was brought up with strict and hateful pure-blood values

he never understood why he was meant to hate muggle-borns so much but he never voiced his thoughts on the matter to his father

on a lighter note...

has a good sense of humor

pretends to bang his head on the table while malfoy rants about harry

his favorite class is potions but transfiguration is a close second

loves cats

is reading all the time

loves muggle classics and doesn't try to hide it (malfoy picks on him for it, "what could a muggle have to say that's worth reading?")

DATING

still not very talkative

really closed off at first

eventually will get comfortable enough to talk about his family

has a soft spot for whoever he's dating and only them

argues with his friends if they give you shit for being muggle-born

got into a full-on fist fight with malfoy once because malfoy would not stop saying things like "you could do so much better mate" and "i can't believe you're dating a filthy mudblood!" malfoy ended up in the hospital wing with a broken nose

malfoy kept his mouth shut after that

so obviously he's not good at communication

but he really tries and gets better at it

he's very protective of you

stares at anyone that looks at you

and glares at anyone that looks at you wrong

if he hears any other slytherins picking on you for your blood status he'll hex them with no hesitation

loves making you blush

he thinks it's cute when he makes you all nervous and flustered

lovingly teases you ALL THE TIME

distances himself when he realizes that he loves you because he's scared his father will find out and you'll get hurt. this leads to a little argument that ends with the classic "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU" shit

i have an idea forming about a secret forbidden romance fic idk if itll ever happen tho

also a battle of hogwarts fic hehehehehehheheh

loves physical touch since hes not good at communicating

always holds your hand or has an arm around your shoulder

makes you sit in his lap in the hopes that you fall asleep on him

writes the most romantic, shakespearean level letters

and then you send your owl back with a letter that says "ditto all that xoxo"

you guys spend a lot of time in your dorm (since he doesn't want his friends to make you uncomfortable)

your roommates are scared of him at first but that quickly goes away when they see you guys asleep and cuddling together

they take a picture once and tease you both relentlessly

its his fav picture though and he keeps it tucked in his favorite book

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

These "bombshell" revelations is not making the kind of ripples the sussexes thought it would make cos everyone already has Sussex drama fatigue. The shock factor is gone. And everyone with brain cells knows this is the most vicious hatchet job. Who exactly in Britain will believe Kate or Charles is racist? Someone they have watched grow for over 20 years? Even anti monarchists know this is just a smear campaign. No one believes Kate is the evil racist Meghan wants them to believe.

THIS.

Meghan and Scobie don’t appreciate what it means to be part of the royal family. That’s partly why Meghan is so frustrated. She thinks because she married William’s brother she’s entitled to the same level of respect and attention Kate is. That is impossible.

The Brits have known Charles his entire life. Ditto the rest of the family. The royals are a fixture of every holiday and every major British event. They’re on television every single freaking day. They’re the fabric of society. There’s no American equivalent to that, not even the Kennedys.

Likewise, the Brits have known Kate since she was a teenager. They’ve been seeing those catwalk pictures nonstop for two decades. During that time she had a highly-public breakup, rumors that the aristo circle looked down on her, various high school friends slinging mud, nude pics published, clinical morning sickness, threats on her family, an abusive sister-in-law leaking stories to the press, a brother with depression, siblings with failed business, and a family business in trouble.

And through all that she has shown up to the job, immaculately dressed, and smiled for the cameras.

Scobie may scoff at that, but showing up to do your job and make your country proud after topless pics or an Oprah interview casting you as the villain or a crazy rant from your nutty SIL that left your daughter traumatized is not easy. It takes real character.

[randomnameless]

Haha, that S rank is to me the stuff of nightmare lol

Apparently Sothis can only be half assed to talk to her daughter when she's dying and if Byleth wants to marry her, Rhea suddenly forgets all of the bonds and allies (counting her own family! Like Seteth!) she had before meeting Byleth because they had to shoehorn a "i was lonely before meeting you since zanado" - and we keep the general feeling of everyone self-flagellating to avoid putting any blame on Edel's shoulders for the war - when Rhea asks if she was the reason why this war started, there's no option to tell her "no of course not someone started the war because she was prompted to do so by the evil organisation who wanted to finish the genocide of your race and that same someone really really really doesn't like pointy ears".

About the route :

Shambala is in Goneril territory, iirc Hilda mentions it in VW.

Yes, much like the Nabatean themselves, they're mentionned in script only once or twice. But in the blurbs, you have more mentions, like Agarthan tech, or whatever.

I still don't know how to explain why Nemesis doesn't get out of his tupperware in this route, but I guess it was to make the "final boss" different between the routes.

Yep, Billy having one month to decide if they want to lead the world... well, symbolism was lost in the lolcalisation and wasn't even that developed to begin with, but Byleth was supposed to have ascended to someone who guides people - the role Rhea wanted Sothis to have - and from what the other materials about Fodlan say (aka not FE16 because Byleth has no voice in FE16) Byleth apparently takes the role because they like to guide/teach people. There's also the "someone has to take responsability" angle in the SS situation, since every other leader died.

But yeah, in the game, it feels like an ultimate way to say "and you, the player, become the uncontested ruler of the Fodlan! Yay!"

Sitri's nature was the source of a lot of discourse, some people were really disappointed that Rhea didn't kidnap people to put crest stones in them but made homonculi instead, and i think there are still some people out there who make a point of saying Sitri was a human (see CF). Tldr : Sitri was a construct, she didn't host Sothis' consciousness so Rhea let her live her life, she married Jeralt, had Byleth, and asked Rhea to put the crest stone in Byleth - killing her, but possibly saving her child.

FEH tried to bring an explanation for the final boss about Rhea's "despairing", but to be honest, if she knows Sothis was thre, gave her powers to Byleth and then apparently fucked away in all routes, Rhea should "despair" in all routes, but she only does so here...

With the worst faith take I can muster, we can nearly say Rhea grows berserk/her minds break because she realises her mother never gave a fuck about her, the world or her remaining children...

IDK if Nabateans have multiple crest stones, or if Rhea could shave hers, but honestly, the "they had her blood and part of her crest stone", especially given their numbers, felt like bullshit to explain why this nonsensical fight happens.

the crest of seiros should imo be more common, i mean, edel's dad got 11 children, if 11 children is the standard for Adrestian Emperors, we should have thousands of Hresvelg bastards in Fodlan!

Fodlan has an unification boner, and I really miss the time when Tellius or even Jugdral (depending on the end!) ended up with everyone returning home, multiple nations and some warped "and they were happy until the end of times". But in the Rhea ending, Rhea is the Archbishop, while Byleth is the "King/Queen" so I guess they're still separating politics from religion? At least in name?

Rhea's S support is basically her wondering if she should live, and while I like how she's reflecting on her past actions, talking to Byleth means talking to a wall, so no one can tell her that "you might have lied, but it was either that, or either Flayn being turned into a pair of shiny chopsticks".

As you said, it's still a nice support, where Rhea accepts and acknowledges Byleth is their own person and also, she realises she's happy she didn't die.

(well... a bit like Dimitri? They're pretty similar tbh).

I agree though, it should have been a gen support - but FE16 is allergic to having Rhea interact with her family and/or anyone who isn't Byleth aka a romantic interest (iirc FE16!Rhea has no lines with Flayn!). If there's one thing 3 Nopes did well, it's to have her, even for 1 paralogue and 3 lines in a +120 hours long game, interact with her family-friends.

Byleth being muted and Rhea being fridged means SS couldn't have the gravitas the devs might have been gunning for - you have to feel bad for fighting against Edel, but you cannot even think once or twice about why you are fighting against her, nor what she did (we still don't know what happened to Rhea during those 5 years, but she is weak enough that she has to go to sleep mode for 1 month, and even then, walking around is deemed as "unreasonable" for her!).

So how can this route explore Byleth, what they are, what actions they must take and what they finally accept to be, if you have to feel bad for "you are a nabatean you cannot rule over humans" and "I will get rid of the false goddess and her minions"?

On paper SS is more interesting than VW - but execution wise, it's definitely lacking.

SS is done.

The most standout part: I got the Rhea S rank. It was good. I support it, but I wish there was a gen version and also that it was available on VW. My general impression is that VW actually gives you more chances to ask after and worry for Rhea (plus Claude is a rather meh romance option), so it would be great if I could get with her there too.

In general, I wish VW and SS were just one route. Both have some nice small details, but given how similar they are, I feel like you'd get a better experience if they were just combined.

Checking my VW endgame notes, it seems VW gives you info dump about Agartha, which definitely feels missing in SS, and SS gives you a bit more detail about Byleth's deal from Rhea, which adds some nice details on the Rhea relationship front. Seriously, they should have just combined them.

(Hilariously, Catherine's endcard outright contradicts the paired Rhea one. They are incompatible, but I got both. Additionally, Ingrid's card seems to be written for Crimson Flower, since it mentions Galatea being "seized" and Ingrid needing to push strongly to be allowed to govern it, which comes across weirdly as a post-war in the Byleth-led United Kingdom, especially since the other Lions kids I recruited all got their lord positions without any apparent fuss.)

Overall, not much else to say about SS. Final take: SS and VW are really obviously the same route, but even though SS was supposedly written first, VW feels marginally better in its focus and I enjoyed it more. However, the Rhea stuff specifically is good, and I wish I could get it on VW. Yup.

Final save file time: 95:19. Minus the VW playthrough, it's 44:07, so a bit faster. Specifically post-route split, it's 20:16, so it seems like the part that I finished faster was actually just Academy phase, possibly because I just didn't care much for the BE kids.

Liveblogging notes:

Looking closely at the battle selection screen, it seems Shambhala is at the very eastern tip of the Empire. There's a bit of mountain that stretches down from the Throat across Airmid River, and it seems to be there.

Narration calls it a "sprawling underground city."

Thales was kind of a chump!

Ah, I just realized I forgot to check his X description blurbs. They probably weren't too interesting tho.

The Agarthans are super mad about living underground and not having "light." Thales also name drops Agartha in his battle line vs Seteth and in the cutscene afterwards. Aside from their ability description, I think this is probably the first time their proper name is mentioned. But we uh, don't seem to discuss this much?

Small scene with Nemesis's coffin is missing, I think. Well, obviously because he's not the final boss now. iirc the scene immediately after the month change, with everyone freaking out over Rhea is new instead. It's a little weird because iirc VW gives you more opportunities to express concern for her. Here, the Rhea focus feels a bit less supported.

Seteth didn't realize you already knew that Rhea is the Immaculate One (which you did, btw).

Seteth "long ago" lost the power to change form, but "it seems" Rhea has not. My dude, did you not know... He does confirm that he's also a child of the goddess, which Rhea keeps hidden in VW. Flayn is also counted as one of the children of the goddess, even though she's more like a grandchild. It's a general term for dragons.

Seteth and Flayn press Byleth about taking over as the leader of Fodlan in some capacity, now that Rhea's future is uncertain.

We find the Sword and Bow of Zoltan in Shambhala. I was wondering about whether these things existed, since Zoltan is a dude that got namedropped in a small quest item description a while back. I also have an Axe of Zoltan though I can't remember exactly where I picked it up. No spear?

Just noting that you use Arcane Crystals to repair magical weapons like the Bolt Axe, Mythril to repair sacred weapons like Cichol's Spear of Assal, and Umbral Steel for relics. Mythril is also used on forging the rusted weapons that require A+ professor rank. iirc they're legendary weapons from other games or something like that. Smithing Stones are for normal weapons of all rarities.

On VW, this month was about Nemesis appearing and us going to fight him, but here on SS, that doesn't happen, so the explore dialogue is all about Seteth telling us that we should become the new Ruler of Fodlan and us taking the month to think about it. Everyone around the monastery comments on this, how we should think about it carefully, how they believe in us, how they're thinking about the future, etc. It's... hm. I think it's okay, but it really highlights how much Byleth has not been setup for this role At All.

They're a mercenary who became a teacher via nepotism and while we do things in the story that you could probably read as proof of Byleth's ability to lead, they don't really feel that way, especially since Seteth can end up spending half the war refusing what we suggest. Byleth is also just... not a real character. So them becoming the big deal leader is kinda... yeah.

Anyway, I accidentally ended the month early. But whatever.

Before you tell Rhea your "decision," she gives you exposition about how she made you and Sothis's crest stone is in you. She wanted to see Sothis again and thought she could regain everything she had lost.

Sitri was Rhea's 12th attempt. She "grew up" without Sothis's consciousness and fell in love with Jeralt. But when she gave birth, the child was not breathing and she herself was also "in grave danger." Sitri told Rhea to take the crest stone from her and put it into her baby. Otherwise, both would have died.

Byleth is suggested to be able to house Sothis's consciousness because they have both the crest stone and a body born from a parent with Rhea's blood.

Rhea is aware that Sothis gave you her power and disappeared, which means Rhea's dearest wish did not come true, but she's accepting of that. She basically entrusts Fodlan and the future to you.

And she just flips out in the middle of that.

"White Beasts" appear all over the monastery. They are from priests and knights that Rhea shared her blood and "stones" with. Tho given how JP plurals work, it's impossible to tell if Rhea is meant to have one crest stone or several. Demonic Beasts also run in??

Enemies are Frenzied Church Soldiers with minor crests of Seiros, Altered Golems, White Beasts (cardinal that has transformed and gone mad due to the rage of the Immaculate One) with Blest Crest Stone Shards (bestowed by a saint and wielded as a weapon), and the Immaculate One herself. She has a crest stone of Serios, can recover HP when near a White Beast and is described as having been driven to an uncontrollable anger due to the power of the goddess.

This battle was annoying because of the Classic setting. The whole business with Rhea having a private army of people whom she shared blood with is, hm. But I get the feeling this was done purely to explain her battle having the same mechanics as with Nemesis and the 10 Elites. It's... an interesting tidbit that these cardinals and such exist, but kinda weird that the crest of Seiros is actually this common, especially since they can ALL presumably pass it down to their kids, and I would expect Rhea had done this for more than just one generation.

(funny concept: after a thousand years of Rhea just sharing her blood all over, a good three quarters of Fodlan has some Seiros crest blood and it manifests pretty much at random in people all over.)

Anyway, final blow by Flayn.

OK, enough screwing around. tbh I do like Rhea, so there's some emotional resonance in everyone being very worried about her and having little voicelines about how they want to pay back the debts they owe to her, and her sadness and suffering and all that. It's not the worst.

She mistakes Byleth for Sothis when collapsing in the cathedral.

They did make a mistake: Rhea transforms in her dressing gown without the mantle or headpiece, but she changes back in full archbishop regalia.

The post-battle exposition exposition is kinda... ah yes, all nations in Fodlan are gone, but you see the Church is leading people toward a new... nation? How does this work. Sorry, but I don't see a religious government (??) as a good thing.

Rhea says she had a vision of flying free and speaking with Sothis while near death. She's happy she survived... so am I.

Rhea's wish was for peace, but she admits fault in propagating a false history and deceiving the faithful. And she did a bit of forbidden experimentation on the side, obvs. We forgive her tho.

I wish there was a gen way to save her, without the romance. It's such a good coda, honestly, without the marriage.

I wish Byleth was a more concrete character. Not necessarily a super detailed one, but with at least some grounding traits.

Still, Rhea romance scene is pretty good. WAY better than Flayn. Why can't I do this on VW..........

Endings: Ashe takes over Gaspard as the new lord. Galatea was "seized" what the heck, though Ingrid did rule it. Felix still ended up Duke Fraldarius. Sylvain talked his way into peace with Sreng, good on him. Lindhart "escaped the Empire" but went missing. Dorothea fled with her troupe to a secret location. Petra went to Brigit. Caspar fell on a battlefield. Bernadetta because seriously ill and lived as a recluse. Ferdinand returned to his territory but went missing. Catherine became Guardian of Zanado, but why was she shaking up with MY wife in solitude? Because in the ending card with Byleth, Rhea is still archbishop and assists the leader of the new "United Kingdom of Fodlan." Shamir became Robin Hood. Alois became captain of the knights. Seteth became very tolerant lol

[dittolicous]

sighs. i have had so much free time because of my cut hours but its. still left me with nothing to do, since i have to save as much money as possible while looking for another job. so i sleep, wake up, look to see if there are any new job postings on indeed/linkedin/ziprecruit/monster/etc, dig farther into google for more sketchy job openings, think about what company sites i can check for direct jobs, check those sketchy 'surveys for money' sites,... and then i go back to sleep. because well. cant be hungry or waste money if ur asleep.

i just. im miserable. i have so much time but i cant even enjoy or use it because im going to start bleeding money i dont have soon. im fucking terrified of not being able to find a new job, of being stuck in this... dead end job. unable to get off this damn island. it makes me sick. so im bored and guilty and scared and i just gucking hate this!

im so fuckibg tired of living in this godforsaken world where you only deserve to live if you give up everything. honestly, i wish someone would just. fuckibg come beat me up. wish my parents had actually fucking hit me instead of just yelling and insults. wish i was missing limbs or brain fuction or just. anything. anything to get the world to see i cant function.

im an empty brained idiot. i dont have any passion or self. how am i suppose to live? id rather be a fucking shattered glass than an empty jar. but thats what i am.

god i just. how???? how????? how do people... live????? how do you create and make.... your brand or personality? i cant make any of that. im just here. breathing. not for any reason. thats how its always been. everytime i see jokes about what kind of 'weird kid' you were i want to cry. because ive never been fucking anything! i wasnt a horse girl or a cat girl or train person or dinosaur nut or a monster fan and never cared about Egypt or rome or didnt care for legos or cars or model building or WHATEVER. ive just! been here! with nothing! im not ANYTHING. i dont have hobbys. ive nev r had hobbies.

ive always been alone and empty. disconnected from the world. disconnected from the community. disconnected from everyone.

my life is nothing. has been nothing. just a waste of time and space. nothing to show but misery and anger. theres no escaping it. i wish i was an actual person instead of this empty sack of nothing.

get hobbies they say, thatll help, yeah surs. sure. hobbies. to store in my roach and rat infested house, where i hide away in a tiny room because its the only space i have that i can control. with the money that i dont have. alone. because im terrible at bonding with people. because why would any human wanna hang around me? and because i tire so fucking fast.

i just. i wish i was fucking dead. im tired of this stupid fucking world. thinking things might get bettrr jusy to have reality forced into my face. im a piece of garbage npc who would have been better never being born.

[ynsvnte]

UPDATE UMMM I LOVE IT SOOO MUCH