Sep 1, 2025
When British and American just don’t translate 😂
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When British and American just don’t translate 😂
Where I used to live, crossing your arms during a conversation means "I am invested, listening and taking you seriously". Apparently here it can mean "I'm upset". So many little things one learns over time.
Thorin: So, you are a decent Hobbit.
Bilbo:
Thorin: and... You have ...hair, many of them, if I must say.
Bilbo:
Thorin: would you mind ... getting them braided... Maybe by one of us... pure suggestion, me, if I must say?
Fili, peeking from the corner: He's so bad at this.
Dwalin, next to him: Those are not the instructions I gave him, I promise you.
I just saw a video on YouTube of a British man all excited about having brought the USAmerican superpower of being able to smell the coming rain back to the UK. I was not aware that this ability was a distinctly US thing? O_o;;; But after a short poll around a few of my friends, the answer has so far split down USAmerican/non-USAmerican lines. So now I'm curious. But 6 people is way too small a sample size, so I thought I'd toss a poll out about it.
(Now a friend of mine posited that perhaps it's because the UK is such a generally wet climate that it's harder for a native to smell when it's about to rain because it sort of always smells like rain. Maybe there's something to that? So feel free to add that context (how much annual precipitation your country gets) along with your answer to the poll in the tags.)
Where are you from and can you smell precipitation (rain, snow, etc.) coming?
I am USAmerican and can smell precipitation coming.
I am USAmerican and cannot smell precipitation coming.
I am not USAmerican and can smell precipitation coming.
I am not USAmerican and cannot smell precipitation coming.
my American OC, Jack, talking about the U.S.
I’m Japanese, but I like drawing characters from different countries. This time, my American OC, Jack, talking about the U.S.
Before working on this comic, I learned a lot about America from people here on Tumblr, and I’m really grateful for that.
This is only Part 1, and there’s more to come. I think Japanese readers will enjoy it, but for American readers, it might feel a bit obvious or not very surprising, so maybe a little boring.
please keep scrolling
Imagine a cyberized!human is checking themselves out in a mirror and/or doing some exploration just to find their body had the Barbie and Ken doll treatment.
Nothing between their legs. It's just a smooth expanse of protoform.
They're walking around with the assumption that Cybertronians are a very social species that can't fuck in a way they're familiar. What they don't know is their sexual hardware now has coverings, and they can't find them.
While the cyber!human is thinking about plug-n-play and other kinks, Ratchet sent a massive internal memo to not clang the pretty, sensual newbie because that's not a newbuild situation, and if he finds out that any mecha took the poor thing for a ride or drive, there is no hiding spot he won't be able to find.
The Warrior and the Witch
It started with a harmless idea.
At least, that’s what you told Tsu’tey when you invited him to movie night in the lab.
You had been helping Norm set up the projector all afternoon, trying to explain that Earth had this thing called Halloween, a night of costumes, candy, and scary movies. The Na’vi didn’t really understand the point of scaring yourself on purpose, but you thought it’d be funny to try anyway.
So now, as the projector hums softly and a faint glow flickers across the lab walls, Tsu’tey sits cross-legged beside you on the floor, staring at the screen as if it were about to attack him.
“This is your… Halloween ritual?” he asks slowly, eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” you say, grinning as you hand him a small bowl of Earth snacks. Humans watch scary stories for fun. It’s just pretend.”
“Fun?” he repeats, skeptical. “You enjoy fear?”
You shrug. “Well, some people do. You’ll see.”
He looks unconvinced but accepts the bowl promptly, sniffing it like it might bite him. You bite your lip, hiding your laugh as the movie begins.
It’s an old Earth horror film, creaky sound, dramatic shadows, a woman running through the woods. You’re barely paying attention to the plot because Tsu’tey’s reactions are far better entertainment.
At first, he’s calm, shoulders squared, tail resting behind him. A warrior observing enemy tactics. But when the music starts to rise, that low, suspenseful hum that promises something terrible is coming, his ears flick forward sharply.
“Why is she going alone?” he mutters. “She hears danger and runs toward it?”
“It’s part of the story,” you whisper back.
“It is foolish,” he says flatly. “She deserves whatever.”
The first jump scare hits.
A sudden flash, a scream, a shadow on the screen.
Tsu’tey’s entire body tenses. His tail lashes, and before you can blink, he’s on his feet, knife out, stance ready.
You burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, it’s not real!” you wheeze, grabbing his wrist before he decides to attack the projector. “It’s just a movie!”
He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “That creature appeared suddenly! It is unnatural!”
“That’s the point!” You laugh harder, almost crying. “It’s supposed to scare you!”
He glares at you, unimpressed.
“You find amusement in lies and sudden noise.”
“Well, yeah. It’s… a vibe.”
For a moment, he just stares at you, trying to decide if you’ve truly lost your mind. Then, reluctantly, he sits back down closer this time, as though proximity might protect him from further “attacks.”
You can’t help smiling at that.
“See?” you tease softly. “Not so bad, right?”
He huffs. “If your spirits attack again, I will destroy the box.”
“Please don’t,” you say through your laughter. “Norm would actually cry.”
As the movie goes on, Tsu’tey’s running commentary becomes the highlight of your night.
Every time a character makes a bad decision, he mutters something in Na’vi that sounds distinctly like swearing.
Every time the music grows tense, his hand shifts closer to his knife again, though he hasn’t stood up since the first time.
You end up half-watching the film, half-watching him. The faint glow from the projector paints blue light across his features, catching on the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow.
He’s still suspicious of the moving images, but when he glances at you, his expression softens just a little.
The second movie starts with something with witches and curses, and you dim the lab lights for effect. The shadows stretch longer, the glow outside the windows fading to the gentle pulse of bioluminescent leaves.
“This one is about a witch,” you tell him. “She’s not evil, just misunderstood.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Like humans, perhaps.”
You grin. “Exactly. She was accused of terrible things, but really she just had power others didn’t understand.”
He tilts his head, considering. “Power feared is often power coveted. That is not new.”
You blink, surprised by the quiet wisdom in his tone.
“Didn’t expect philosophy from movie night,” you tease.
He smirks. “I am full of surprises, ma tskxe.”
Your stomach flutters a little. You look back at the screen to hide it, pretending to be deeply invested in the witch story. But you can still feel his gaze steady, curious, protective.
Halfway through the film, the witch’s spirit begins haunting the main character. The music swells again, eerie whispers weaving through the silence. You don’t even realize how tense you’ve gotten until the next scare makes you jump.
You flinch, and Tsu’tey immediately moves his arm, sliding around your shoulders before he even thinks about it.
He leans in slightly, voice low near your ear. “You said it is not real,” he murmurs, half-teasing, half-concerned.
You laugh softly, heart still pounding. “Yeah, but my brain didn’t get the memo.”
He makes a small sound somewhere between amusement and pride. “Then you must stay close. I will not allow this ‘witch’ to harm you.”
It’s ridiculous, but the warmth of his arm around you makes the world outside the glowing screen feel safe. Your pulse slows. The movie keeps playing, forgotten.
You glance up at him, meeting his eyes. “You’d fight a ghost for me?”
“I would fight anything for you.”
You try to play it off with a grin, but the sincerity in his voice hits harder than any jump scare.
By the time the credits roll, you’ve both relaxed the earlier tension, replaced by quiet laughter and soft teasing.
“So,” you say, turning to face him, “final verdict: do you like scary movies?”
He pretends to think about it. “They are… strange. Foolish, perhaps. But…”
“But?” you prompt.
He looks at you, eyes soft in the blue glow. “They give me reason to hold you. That, I enjoy.”
Your cheeks warm.
“Smooth,” you whisper. “Didn’t think you had that in you.”
He smirks, tail flicking. “You bring it out of me, yawne.”
Outside, the forest hums with life, soft and distant. The flickering light from the projector dances across his skin, tracing the faint patterns of bioluminescent freckles that shimmer when he leans close.
And maybe, just maybe, Halloween on Pandora isn’t so strange after all.