#i was at loss of words at the time

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sanzundertale]

babygirl i will invent stages of grief you have never seen before

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[izuizzy]

“First Word” 💙💙

made a comic to express the relief and joy sonic felt when talia finally spoke for the first time once she became more comfortable. [read from left to right]

[lunarhorrors]

thinking about i saw the tv glow and “there is still time.” there is. there is still time. there is still time there is still time there is still time. there is still time.

[otomes-world]

Some things never change

no trigger warnings except yandere themes, 2,7k words and as we all love barely edited text

Probably, running away from home wasn't the smartest decision in life. In any case. The reason for such act depended on the questioner. If it was one of the friendly, elderly aunts, then you modestly told them about the desire to achieve recognition for the family. For younger acquaintances, the version acquired more dreamy shades in the form of recognition for yourself. For someone less meticulous, the desire to see the world was enough.

In the end you couldn't change the past, however, you were not eager to return home and beg for forgiveness, as most casual people painted a picture for themselves. Therefore, you always kept silent about the interesting beginning of the journey, preferring to tell stories of a later period. About how, by pure chance, you met a traveling troupe of artists and joined them. Did you know how to sing, dance, play a role? At an average level, yes.

Was it hard at first? Definitely.

Nevertheless, the stubborn decision to live your own life, leaving all the unpleasantness behind, won out and you, convincing and sometimes negotiating with yourself, swallowed the complaints. The meaningful glances from the other performers were safely ignored. They could think whatever they wanted, as long as they didn’t start leaving comments and sticking their noses into things that weren’t their business. Sounded like passive aggression? Touché.

Be that as it may, after a couple of months of involuntary life together and shared stories, the distance between you decreased to comfortable evening conversations and jokes in a whisper.

Has a small troupe of the same lost souls as you become a family in the full sense of the word? You always answered something vague and tried to change topic to something else. If others noticed, they preferred to tactfully remain silent and intercept the conversation. Everyone had their own reason for wandering, which meant that you were in for a maximum of understanding and a minimum of interference.

At least, these were the thoughts that always visited you at the beginning of autumn. To be more precise, when warm weather started dropping hints of cold wind and a rare drizzle of rain. No, you had no complaints about the season itself, only about your own melancholic mood, which was becoming part of everyday life. For performer, the beginning of autumn marked the end of the working season. Of course, there were occasions when you were invited to brighten up the evening of this or that eccentric nobleman, but they were incredibly rare. If you managed to count them on the fingers of one hand, it was considered lucky.

Winter served as a break for most. For agriculture, for trade, for travel… for you. In winter, finding something to do, a job, became more difficult. It was harder to distract yourself. There were no nights whose sky was painted with hundreds of lights. Noisy companies of people, in the flow of which it was so easy to forget and let yourself be led anywhere.

Inazuma - the nation of eternity, was supposed to be the last major stop this year. To be honest, even as a child you listened with apprehension to stories about this country. About visions. However, the gods did not consider you worthy of their gift. The bitterness of disappointment was felt as an unpleasant aftertaste even at a conscious age. Now you were watching life and the changing emotions on the faces of the townspeople from the window of a small ryokan's room with detachment. An unfinished mask for the next outfit rested on your lap.

It seemed that all the nightmares were left behind, it seemed that they were not afraid of the imminent onset of cold weather. The thoughts of both old and young were occupied only with the upcoming farewell to summer - you preferred to tactfully remain silent about the fact that it was already over.

The needle fell out of your hands with a barely audible ringing sound, falling to the floor. Looking down at your hands, you immediately clenched and unclenched them several times, trying to stop the trembling. This was clearly not the first and not the last winter in your life. Why doesn't the feeling of anxiety leave you? So noticeable that if the needle hadn't fallen out, you could have cut the air with it. Your "friends" wrote it all off as autumn dismals and for a moment you really wanted to sincerely believe their words.

It all started with crossing the border, as if the velvety purple skies were warning you about something in advance, carefully forgetting to specify what exactly. You decided that it was all because of the noticeable change in the weather. After the warm Sumeru, Inazuma seemed cold and unfriendly.

The meeting with Commissioner Yashiro took even the most experienced and seasoned performer, your unofficial leader, by surprise. You remembered how someone briefly mentioned a family whose responsibilities included organizing festivals. However, discussing and obtaining permission from the leader still shook you to the depths of your soul.

Despite the obligatory nature of some moments brought by the new life, you still did not like meeting with nobles, especially tete-a-tete. They reminded you of a time you wanted to leave behind. Memories you wanted to rewrite, erase, bury under a pile of new ones and never think about again. Whether it was a defensive reaction or a personal dislike, no one asked. As long as you performed without causing problems, no one was going to pry into your soul.

Tremble in your hands became stronger, as well as your heart beat faster in your chest.

The Kamisato family estate was amazing, causing admiring whispers from the troupe and anxiety in you. The ceilings were too high, reminding you of a beautiful cage, one of which you had so carefully left. You tried to avoid such talent display in front of the nobles: you wanted to show off as little as possible. Even though you understood in your mind that the probability of meeting a familiar face in a foreign country was extremely small, you could never calm your paranoia.

Hope died last, so you prayed that there would be some urgent matter, any really, that did not require delay and a trusted person would conduct the meeting. However, fate rarely took into account someone's wishes, since the quiet voices and greetings of the servants in the corridor became a sufficiently clear sign.

In such grand mansions, your body acted on its own, straightening your back and wiping all emotion from your face, leaving a neutral smile. Despite all your attempts to imitate your new acquaintances, some habits seemed to be engraved on your bones. Whether it was luck or not, was another question. The singer, who for some reason was treating you like a younger relative, winked to you encouragingly, while your insides turned cold.

You didn’t like the look of the Commissioner. He was pleasant, behaved appropriately, flashing his knowledge of the fine arts, without putting himself in an bad light. Looking at the man from under your lowered eyelashes, for a second you felt a pang of envy. About what your life could have been if you had followed the beaten path, instead of jumping off a cliff with the unknown at its very bottom. Suppressing a moment of weakness, you smiled charmingly when the conversation turned to you, playing the role of a silly person who was passionate about arts.

You stood up, forcing yourself to take deep breaths, ignoring the darkening in your eyes. As soon as your gaze cleared, you tiredly sank down again, reaching for the fallen mask, to which you had been sewing feathers a few minutes ago. The quick and sharp pain made you pull your hand back in panic, while the voice of reason reminded you of the needle that had fallen. Shaking your head a couple of times, as if it could throw out unpleasant emotions and restore your calm, you grabbed the mask in one movement and casually threw it on the bed, or as it was called here a futon. The needle and a bag of colored feathers were carefully put away in the nightstand.

For some incomprehensible, twisted reason, you were the one deciding the organizational issues. To be more precise, this was the wish expressed by the Commissioner, and the kind "head" of the troupe did not object. Words about a pleasant impression, an interesting, new look at the performances and compliments from the servants of the estate - like a porcelain doll - were drowned in the general monotonous noise, while the body still refused to move.

The need to end everything as quickly as possible became sufficient motivation. Visit the estate, solve a few pressing issues and return to your room, lock yourself in and hide from the world until the moment when you would have to go out again. Repeating this phrase like a mantra, you sat in the familiar interior and tried to fight the desire to jump out of the window.

"Are you okay?" A sympathetic voice asks, for a second you even believed in sincerity which it hold.

"Yes, Monsieur Kamisato," the answer bursts out on its own, and then, as if realizing your mistake, you lowered your head in a bow. "I'm sorry, I meant Kamisato-sama."

Some habits are unchangeable.

The man just laughed softly, "You may address me as you prefer. I suppose the language barrier is sometimes difficult to overcome?"

"Thank you, I hope my Fontaine's accent does not offend you. I try to fill in the gaps in the cultural peculiarities of the languages ​​of different corners of Teyvat." You answered, reading between the lines of his question.

You tried to ignore the man as much as etiquette allowed, whose eyes narrowed in satisfaction, like a cat, that had been watching a canary for a long time. Reaching for the papers on which the rough plan of the event was sketched, you were about to change the topic, but he was beat you to it.

"I hope that your stay in Inazuma is going smoothly and nothing has marred the first impression." Slightly tilting your head to the side, you looked at the nobleman, waiting for him to continue. "I assume you know about Tri-Commisions, Yashiro, let me clarify."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to answer as close to textbook as possible, "It's one of the organizations in Inazuma. They, you, are in charge of managing shrines, festivals, and cultural events."

"With such a well-known history, it's rather surprising that we don't have a permanent troupe of performers. Perhaps we should entertain the idea." The softness in his voice, the pleasant, inviting atmosphere, and the innocently asked question made you genuinely disgusted.

"If you think so," perhaps not the best answer, but short enough not to ruin the conversation or make yourself seem rude. You didn't have to be a prophet to not guess what the other side was hinting at. "Would you allow me to ask your opinion on the event's plan?"

As if he had already achieved his goal, the man kindly allowed the conversation to return back to work, which you were grateful for.

You couldn't flash much experience in small talk. Each meeting with the Commissioner made you remember everything that they had so diligently tried to hammer into you, to mold the version that should correspond to the norms.

He had it all. Soft pressure, skill of confidently inclining the dialogue in a favorable direction. Man never showed open aggression, did not give you anything that you could latch on to. Smoothly and gracefully dropped small hints on where he could press if you decided to act differently from the path he had already planned.

"Thank you, I will take your wishes into account and make the necessary changes," politely ending the meeting, you slowly began to collect the papers you had brought and the sheet of notes.

"Have you ever thought about settling down?" The question catches you off guard, the papers almost falling out of your hands, scattering across the table and the floor. Instead, a smile appears on your face and your body moves on its own again.

"You are very kind. Will you allow me to pass on your generous offer to hire our troupe to the others? I do not have the authority to make such a decision on my own."

"Ah, yes, of course," his eyes narrow slightly again, letting you know that trying to play on the meaning of his words would not work. "Your unity is admirable," the implied 'considering your type of work' hangs in the air.

"I will pass on your praise, Kamisato-sama," another bow. "Please, excuse me."

To your great happiness, he made no attempt to stop you. He let you reach the shoji, push it aside, but just before you could close it, he added, "I hope you'll consider the offer personally."

The sound of the door closing ringed louder in your ears than it actually was.

Hope, such a fragile, unreliable thing, had let you down more often than anyone else in your life. Each time, burning and burying another piece of yourself, you thought about home. If a place from the past could be called like that. About too many expectations and too few opportunities for self-realization. About a ready-made life plan, presented on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out.

Something wet falls into your palm. The unexpected screams of passersby, escaping from the rain, were barely discernible through the veil of white noise. Focusing your gaze on the window frame of the same empty room in the ryokan, you touched your own face with your other hand.

It was dry.

You wiped your palm on the fabric of your clothes and held back a sigh. Although the Commissioner had not specified a deadline for making a decision, your intuition told you that the day of the festival was the maximum you could hope for.

The troupe took the news ambiguously. Some liked the prospect of a permanent job. Some lived for travel.

Some were… you. A rabbit trying to outrun the clock. Or a bud that, instead of falling and brightly flaring up in the flames of the stove, fell off with the wind. Flower that didn't want to become part of someone's herbarium and was now soaking in a puddle, hoping to dissolve in it and disappear as if it had never existed. No one looked at their feet, hurrying about their business in the hustle and bustle of days.

Almost no one.

A beviolent person stopped and carefully unfolded his own album. You just had to reach out. The voice of a familiar singer breaks through the noise of the rain, like the thunder of Her Excellency. Would you be able to say "Yes" once and keep a right to say "No"? Unfortunately, the strength to answer this question was becoming less and less. As was the time until the event.

The trees had already managed to change into different shades of colors, dappled with orange, red and even purple leaves, attracting the gaze of everyone who was ready to look. Despite the feeling of cold, the sun was still warming the earth, giving the last days of trancility. Could the electro Archon take pity and bless her people, waiting for the festivities with them?

"Opportunities to bask in the sunlight like this are few and far between."

"That's how," hearing a voice right next to your ear, you didn't even take your eyes off the waves. Or to be more precise, their barely noticeable echoes, now and then disappearing from sight due to the wind and tree crowns.

What exactly you were hoping to see in the distance, and whether were you hoping, was a moot point. One of those that tensed up the atmosphere from the first words spoken. You didn't want to take responsibility and get caught in the crossfire.

"The Shogun's mood is extremely favorable these days," it seemed someone decided to take pity and throw you a bone. For this, you ignored the light touch on your shoulder. "Thoma conveyed that the fishermen whose boats safely returned to port do not cease to thank her."

You stayed still for a moment, considering something you couldn't give a name. Expectedly, Commissioner was fine with your lack of reaction most of the time, as long as you were where he wanted you to be.

"Winter will come soon"

Was there any meaning in this phrase or did it mean something completely different. Was it spoken for those who could hear, or did you voice it for yourself. You didn't know anymore.

A drop fell on the windowsill and purely by instinct you touched your cheek again, but, unfortunately, the sound of the rain that began once again reminded you how stupid it was to hope for anything.

He lied after all.

[stressfulsloth]

Thinking about Harry and all the animal parallels that follow him through the narrative. It's true that these animal parallels reflect the way that the brutality of individualist moralism strips him of humanity as someone who has fallen through the safety nets, and his agonised shout of 'I don't want to be this kind of animal anymore' can be interpreted as a direct admission of the RCM's dehumanisation of him as a disabled addict who is no longer as 'useful' as he once was. Gottlieb even directly tells him '[he] lost [his] human visage a while back.' Jean calls him 'the most dangerous animal of them all'. The rabid dog that needs to be put down, the black dog (also a common metaphor for chronic mental illness!) that Mollins shoots as it licks its wounds; the scared, hurt, frightened animal lashing out, chewing off it's own leg to escape the trap that it's caught in. The wild dog is all they can see.

But then there is a flipside to these parallels too; a kindness, a gentleness, almost a freedom in Harry’s animal parallels. He's strong like a 'goddamn ox,' like a bear ('I had to kill the bear to become the bear'). He's a harrier hawk, a name given to ensure his safety, raised up to the level of the aerostatics looking down over Revachol, 'soar[ing] on the wings of [his] spirit hawk.' He's a leopard ('its impossible to know where you end and the leopard begins'), discovering or rediscovering a love of softness and sensuality that he'd not known before via the leopard print leotard that 'speaks to the animal inside [him]' and touches on his relationship with his gender ('Yes, this is the type of animal I want to be.').

He's a 'seagull', a bird that will do 'whatever it takes to survive,' a 'bird of paradise' that tells a story of 'endurance- and adaptation' ('You! You and the seagull are just alike!'). He survives, despite everything, despite the grimness of the world around him. He endures. Even the sea monster comparison is oddly kind ('You've become a sea monster -- giant, hidden and... strangely tender at heart'). Even as a monster, he's still gentle; he still has so much love for this world that has wrung every last bit out of him. As if his tenderness is such an inherent part of him that no matter what monstrous face he wears, no matter what creature is there in his shadow, he cannot help but have some trace of it at his core. His tender soul 'quivering like jello.' The pain he feels is raw and animal but so is the love he feels. So is the hope and the fear and the wonder.

[bonefall]

it is healing to come onto this blog and see basic respect for diasbility after being in other corners of the fandom and reading the words “snowkit could never be a warrior because he wouldnt know what anything is. he wouldnt even know what a clan is because nobody could explain it to him” said in full seriousness

Im..... That statement is so ableist I cannot even imagine the worldview you'd need to have in order to come up with that.

They really think the only way anyone learns anything is through verbal-speaking-words-noises? No one has ever observed something before? Not even once?

This is beyond touching grass, this person just fell out of the fucking Jurassic Period when all they had was ferns and stegosaurs.

I just...

OH YES. I remember my first day of Society Lessons as a hearing person, where the everything was explained to me. Via Audiobook. FIRST they spoke and said, "you are standing on the ground." It was a life changing revelation, and the world began to spin.

But it did not stop.

THEN they said, "there are fingers on your hands." The sensation of flesh and bone crackling into existence is indescribable, but I did not yet know pain, until they told me, "that hurts." I began screaming immediately.

And yet... it continued.

They explained so much. Chairs. Tables. Walls. The sky. Frogs. Ionizing radiation. Breathing. I was told all of it, in one sitting, and only then did I understand. Only when my ears were bursting with normal hearing knowledges, did they begin... my final test.

A strange wall-chair-finger emerged from the sky-of-the-wall, stood on the ground several times, until it was in front of me. A second one came behind it, this one slimmer. The audiobook gave these things names;

Human. Father. Mother. Door. Walking. It was completely impossible to know what these things were until that very moment.

I watch a human dip a hook into water and produce a fish, and I recall my Society Lessons where they called that "fishing." I am decked in the face by a nefarious hooligan, and I have only the audiobook to thank when I know I have been "punched" by a "bad guy." It was only the magic of verbal-speaking-words-noise that made me understand that there are "other people" and that they "do stuff."

Sometimes, even, in "groups."

Before the Society Lessons Audiobook, I knew nothing. I was pure, innocent, uncorrupted by concepts such as "parents" and "door." I am grateful every day that there is no such concept as "being shown things" or "simple logical reasoning" or "looking."

Blessed be those amongst us who escape the horrors of the Society Lessons Audiobook. I pray that you never learn what anything is. Be free! Free as a bird, which also knows nothing and famously cannot learn. 🤗

DEAF/HOH FOLLOWERS I'm losing my mind do you want me to bump a 'Hearing Disabilities Herb Guide' to the top of my priorities? Something you can use to bludgeon whackadoodles like that. This is ridiculous

Obviously not a MEDICINE guide but like; common causes of hearing disability in clan cats. Accommodations for hearing loss vs congenital deafness. Actual difficulties of not having that sense Clan-by-Clan. Debunking of misconceptions like... not being able to learn APPARENTLY.

[crustyfloor]

If I described Ivan's situation with his 'family' to a stranger, leaving out the fact that he's human I bet they would think he was the family dog or something 😭

[cloversdreams]

current mood: obsessed with this image

[the-feminist-filipino-fangirl]

“What’s a title that a goddess could lend, if I’ll never sleep at night?” - Odysseus (My Goodbye)

“Life could be that bright. I could sleep at night.” - Athena (We’ll Be Fine)

[pickingupmymercedes]

There's some underlying tone to all these Toto's interviews that are making my head hot but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Because riddle me why in the past week we've had two very different moments where his own words are contradictory to what he is saying himself (and I'm not talking years back I'm talking things he's also saying in those same interviews)

'shelf life' - is that how you publicly talk about a so called friend? and even if the friend card was pr, how does that make him, and the brand he represents, look with him summing up losing their 6x champion to worries on his 'cognitive sharpness', when the said driver has the second best reaction time on the grid and was third in the last wdc, behind only the two cars that won 22/23 races in the season.

Lewis being 'in a ok place' after 21' (when people close to him have stated otherwise, Lewis himself has stated otherwise) and how Toto has heard those things being said and still stands by his perception (he could easily just say he might've thought Lewis was ok back then but learned latter on it wasn't the case)

Leaving Lewis to shoulder criticism on his craft by himself (even when he was their testing guine pig) but still agrees that he's almost happy Lewis comes and shoulders responsibility publicly because it takes the pressure off the team. The team with the 'no blame culture'. The team that can't get this regs right 3 years into when they were introduced (mind you, the only team, openly and proudly, stating they're using the last 6 races 'to test for the next season')

[kakushino]

While being a hopeless romantic hidden beneath his harsh demeanor, he never found himself very intrigued in his own romance, despite longing for it. He simply assumed that in his age, he would never taste the sweetened honey of love on his tongue. Then, the incident in the former village occurred, and he found himself in your presence, longing for you and trying to drive you off, the butterflies in his chest clouding his judgement. You were just as stubborn as him though, determined to do your damn job and get Haganezuka back to full health. That was your own fire. He wanted to drown in it. Hotaru found himself looking for you throughout the village, longing to court you. He was relieved seeing that none of the other smiths wanted you, not that he couldn't handle it, he simply just didn't like the idea of the competition, especially since he was more than well aware of his own flaws regarding his craft. Hotaru knew that many women wanted an attentive husband, and while he would adore providing such, his obsessive behavior towards forging could put a dent in that. Imaging his surprise when one day you approached him, his favorite treat in your hand. "For you. I heard of you working yourself to the bone again. Take it, as a reward for your outstanding craft." You spoke warmly, making the swordsmith's heart flutter. If he didn't love you before, he certainly was enamored by you now. Offhanded mentions of your beauty soon flooded your way whenever you crossed paths with Haganezuka, the man always saying something strange about you or even simply telling you to do small things to keep you safe while you stayed in the village. "Your eyes are pretty, like the fresh ores I get to forge new blades." "Tie your hair up, unlike metals, it can burn away to ash and it'd be a shame to see it vanish." "You're like a freshly forged blade, sharp and beautiful." Each comment never failed to catch you off guard, a fact that delighted Haganezuka. Yet, he internally lamented about how you were still not in his arms at the end of every day. That is, until one night you appeared at his home bearing a few bento boxes and a shy blush on your cheeks. "I was wondering if you wanted to share a meal together?" More than a meal was shared that night, as you found yourself folded nearly in half, legs tossed over Hotaru's shoulders, your name on his lips as he thrusted his length in and out of you, the scent of sex and sweat swirling in the air. A cocktail of passion. "H-Hotaru! Hotaru!" You moaned out, your eyes squeezed shut with Haganezuka's eye drank you in, finally sating his longing to have you for himself. "C-close! More, please, I need more!" "I'll give you more then, my beautiful fire." He huffed, doubling his efforts and smiling inwardly hearing you suddenly scream out for him, the man descending upon you to bite and kiss your skin, leaving behind a collection of hickeys. His claim. The swordsmith groaned out as he felt you cum on his cock for the forth time that night, drawing out a second orgasm from him, overstimulation starting to kick in for the both of you. Yet, he couldn't stop, he never wanted to. Hotaru kept abusing your cunt, molding his shape into you attempting to claim you from the inside out. He wanted you for months now, and still it almost felt like years he's yearned so deeply for this, this feeling of intimacy, of love. He never wanted it to end, to never cease hearing your whines, your cries, all for more of him. Dawn broke after hours, you filled to the brim and then some and Hotaru clinging to you desperately, as if you would disappear if he loosened his grip. Hotaru smiled softly, uttering a gentle "good morning" in his gravely voice. You blushed realizing your situation before sighing and simply curling into his hold. "Five more minutes..." You uttered softly, closing your eyes and listening to the thrum of Haganezuka's heart. ~~~~~~ Enjoy my word vomit, I rewrote this after realizing I was gonna have another situation on my hands. So the first draft is shoved in my docs.

Oh sweet lord above... that... was...

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss >:] and a written out talking to myself because i think it’s funny that it looks like a star wars intro

[gunstellations]

"お前は失ってばかりじゃねえ"

"you haven't only received loss"

[theromaboo]

I've been looking at this map of the Roman Empire for a long time and I still have no idea what the fuck is going on with it. This is literally from Time Magazine. There is no way they can screw up so badly with a map.

So the red means "at death of Julius Caesar." Does that mean the land Rome had at the death of Caesar? No it can't mean that, because Roman land during 44 BC was certainly not made up entirely of Egypt, North Spain, and a bit of Central Europe. Rome didn't even have those yet.

Maybe it means land that was acquired after the death of Julius Caesar and before the death of Augustus? If they meant that, I think they should've said that, but it doesn't matter. If that's what they meant, it seems to make some sense.

So the orange means "at death of Augustus Caesar." They certainly didn't have all that in the East at the death of Augustus! So maybe it means land that was acquired after the death of Augustus and before the death of Trajan? Which (not including the Britain-sized elephant in the room) seems to make some sense.

But the brown means "at death of Trajan." What does that mean now? The Romans certainly did not acquire Italy after Trajan died! This ruins the entire pattern I was setting up!

I thought maybe the colors were just mismatched, but I have no idea how to match them back up. I thought maybe orange was supposed to mean "at death of Trajan," and red was supposed to mean "at death of Augustus," and that seems okayish enough (cough cough except britain).

But the brown can't mean "at death of Caesar," because they didn't have that much Britain in 44 BC! Or that much Germany.

(I'm just going to ignore how the Roman Empire is depicted as having both all that Britain and all that Germany at the exact same time... maybe the map is just depicting the land in Germany to be permanent to make it more simple. But if the color of lands acquired is supposed to change at Augustus' death, then Germany and Britain can't be the same color!)

Now that I look closer, what's that Galatia-shaped hole doing there in the East? Why isn't it colored in at all?

But, the brown. What's going on with the brown? Is there supposed to be an extra color? I think the brown was likely supposed to be "at death of Julius Caesar," but then someone fumbled by adding all that extra land especially in North-West Europe.

Maybe I figured it out? What the map is trying (poorly) to say? Brown is (attempting to be) death of Caesar. Red is (mostly) death of Augustus. And orange is (mostly) death of Trajan? Which is absolutely not what the key says but oh well.

But, if I'm right, how did all that slip through the cracks? How did someone make a map so poorly? How did everyone who looked it over give the green light? I must be misunderstanding what the map is trying to say. It's probably obviously correct to everyone else.

But, there's no way I'm the problem. What Roman Empire growth map shows Italy and Britain as the same color, but Egypt as a different color? I just don't understand what happened. Who made that map?