#And I'm trying to think of how you could scale that up (or down rather?) for yardage

[astrellium]

Hexweave Cloth in WoW is probably meant to refer to hexes like spells, but I can't help but imagine it all as being triaxially woven so that the pattern of the weave forms hexagons rather than squares, and I'm in danger of giving myself more projects to try and figure out how to do it at that scale

[citruswriter]

Hey so how do you think bayverse leo would deal with having a s/o where they tend to get asked out by human’s a lot and s/o says no confidently every time and usually the human’s leave s/o alone nicely. Also flip side whenever s/o is talking about Leo casually, s/o is like gushing over how awesome their boyfriend is. And also how They don’t really meet any human men who act like him. His personality is extremely rare. S/o has a type and it’s not common. Maybe their standards are too high but they got lucky to find Leo?

High Standards

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Listen in with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: They/them pronouns, fluff, not proofread.

A/N: Ur literally so real for this. I think Leo definitely has a more rare personality.

"Dammit I forgot my lunch..." Your coworker muttered as she dug through her bag. Looking over you offered up one of your sandwiches. "You can have my other sand which if you want. Leo made them for me." You said and your coworker gave you a look of gratitude before grabbing the sandwhich and digging in. "Holy shit. This is actually so good, what the fuck?" She said, looking up at you and you giggled, sipping your drink. "Oh yeah. Leo's a wonderful chef. He's always trying new recipes with Mikey. It's super cute. His food is always so good, I can never get enough of it". You beamed, taking another bite. "You always talk about that man, swear to god. You two need to get married already". She said with a roll of her eyes but she smiled none the less. You giggled again, face heating up. "Oh please, trust me. I'd marry that man in a heartbeat if he asked me. He's definitely one of a kind. I don't meet many other individuals with his personality." You said casually, finishing your lunch and shrugging your shoulders. "I know. You constantly turn down anybody pining after you. Your standards are so damn high". She muttered.

"Well I deserve nothing but the best and Leo does exactly that. I'm so lucky to have him". You cooed with a lovesick smile. The door rang as a customer walked in. "Hello! What can I get for you today?". You asked before taking the man's order. He rattled off the ingredients for his coffee and you cashed him out as your coworker began to make it. "Say uh, whats your name?" He asked and you looked up. "(Y/N). Why?" You asked, tone suspicious. "Just wanted to know the name of the individual I was gonna take to dinner tonight." He said with a wink. You couldn't help but laugh, mouth behind your face. "Oh you're cute. No". You said gently but firmly. The man blinked at you, surprised. "Why not?" He asked and you grinned. "I'm taken by a wonderful young man". You said, giggling as you fiddled with the necklace that always hung around your neck, a golden chain with a brilliant blue sapphire. "Bet I could treat you better..." The man purred, leaning in.

"Highly doubt you could," your coworkers voice came as she slammed the hot coffee in front of the man, startling him. "They got standards so high you'd need professional climbing gear to scale them". She said, looking at you with a grin and the two of you giggled. The man rolled his eyes in anger before snatching his coffee up and sulking off and out of the store. "Seriously babes, I know you said Leo was a rather private man but I've got to meet this dude one day". She said with a quirked eyebrow and you hummed. "I'll talk to him about it."

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

You were greeted with a chorus of noises as you entered the lair. Mikey had taken Raph's sai and was now being chased while Donnie attempted to scold them. April and Master Splinter were quietly speaking over tea and Leo... Wait where's Leo? You thought. You glanced around for him before creeping to his room. "Baby?" You said softly before opening the door. You slunk inside, closing the door behind you. Leo was on his bed, book in hand and under a blanket. "Seems like your brothers are at it again". You mused, smiling softly as you approached him. "They always are." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him, head resting on your stomach. "Got your coffee," you murmured and Leo eyes the cup before gently grabbing it and happily taking a sip. "Good as always, blossom". He muttered before dragging you down into bed with him, you kicking your shoes off as he did.

"My coworker wants to meet you". You said and you chuckled when he groaned. "This is the eighth time she's asked". He grumbled, burying his snout into your neck. You laughed and kissed his head. "Yeah she had to come to my rescue after some guy asked for my number, teasing my high standards." You said, nails drawing patterns on his shell. Leo sighed and looked back up at you. "Do you ever wish I was human?" He asked suddenly and you raised your eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. "Not really. I don't really care if you're a mutant or a human". You answered and Leo grumbled, setting his coffee down before burrowing himself into you. "Why do you wish to know, beloved?" You asked, gently picking at the knot in his mask to pull it off. He let you, relaxing into your touch as you rubbed his neck and shoulders. "I don't know... So many humans seem to fawn over you. Sometimes I wonder what you see in me". He confessed.

"Leonardo I fell in love with you because you treat me well. Because you're kind-hearted and a gentleman. Because you love with your whole heart and do your best to protect those you love". You said, thumb brushing against his cheek bones. "Leonardo you're everything I want and more." Leo placed his hands down to lift himself, hovering over you and staring into your eyes. "I love you so much," he whispered before kissing you gently. You hummed and kissed him back, hand moving to cup his face. "I love you too, darling".

A crash was heard from the living room along with the sounds of Raph's shouting and Mikey's feral giggle. "You should probably go deal with them." You mused, Leo groaning as he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed. "You're probably right." He replied and you drug yourself up to go follow him. You couldn't help but watch in amusement as Leo mothered his younger siblings. At some point Leo came back, grumbling about how they were such children. "You'd make a good dad, you know". You murmured, splaying your hands on his plastron. Leo looked at you in shock and you looked away, flustered but Leo just grabbed your face and kissed you. "I think you'd be a good parent too". He said softly and the two of you just stood there looking at each other with utter adoration.

[deadbydangit]

I had a dream about this and i laughed my ass off when i woke up.

Would you be willing to do Mastermind, Knight, and Oni with a reader who is insanely good at climbing? Like not even just trees but they could climb a completely flat wall with no problem, and one day the reader just scales them like a tree to ride on their back? Totally understandable if not!

Hmm, I think I can do that. I'm just going to simplify it a bit. Please enjoy!

With a Reader who is good at climbing: Mastermind, Knight, Oni

Mastermind

Hmm?

What on Earth are you doing?

Get down from there!

Wesker isn't amused.

He doesn't have time for such antics.

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

Part of him is annoyed that you're climbing because he can't get to you.

It almost feels like you're mocking him.

Can he climb?

Yes.

But, somehow, you're better.

And that pisses him off beyond belief.

The idea that somebody is better at something that he is?

It drives an insane.

The other part is that he's worried about you.

Sure, you do seem to be pretty good at climbing.

However, what if you fell?

Of course, he could catch you.

He's fast enough to run and grab you before you fall.

But what if he wasn't there?

"I won't always be around to save you."

"Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

He'll scold you.

Scolding like a mother would to a disobedient child.

But he's only doing so because he loves you.

Yes, he can be somewhat overbearing sometimes.

But it's all from a place of love.

However, there will be times when he'll join you while you're sitting in a tree.

"It's very peaceful. I can understand why you like it up here."

You don't have to do anything while you're both sitting there.

He's just enjoying the peace and your company.

Knight

"Descend from there this instant!"

Tarhos is a very powerful strong person.

He is able to knock just about anyone off their feet with his strength.

However, one thing he isn't is agile.

His armor is very heavy and bulky.

Seeing you easily scale up that tree?

He'll huff and scowl at you as you hang above him.

There are so many reasons why this just bugs him.

He's supposed to be the powerful one in the relationship.

Not you.

Him!

So the fact that you have an advantage over him?

It makes his blood boil.

What makes it so much worse is that Alejandro is able to join you up in the trees and you both taunt Tarhos from down below.

He'll be so furious that he'll stop away.

Part of it is that he doesn't have time for such childish games.

He has things to do, guards to command, people that kill.

He won't admit it, but he's very jealous.

Seeing you so carefree and happy?

He never got to have that.

And, despite how much he denies it, he would love to have a taste of that freedom in his life.

Lastly, he wants to be the one to climb with you.

He hates how Alejandro teases him from up in the trees with you.

It should be him up there, not one of his guards.

However, he really likes it when you drop down into his arms.

He'll hold his arms out, and he'll always catch you.

Make sure you do it often.

It makes him feel joy knowing that he can protect and care for you.

Oni

He finds it extremely childish.

He has better things to do than climb trees.

Well, not like he could.

Every tree couples under his weight.

He tried to climb up after you once.

He was just too heavy for the tree to support.

It was rather embarrassing, so Kazan doesn't like to talk about it.

So, he can't climb trees.

But that doesn't mean he's going to stop you.

If it's something that brings you Joy in your life, who is he to stop you?

Besides, it's good exercise. He knows that.

It might not be his idea of training, but it seems to be working for you.

And, he knows that you're able to keep yourself safe if an enemy were to attack.

Sure, you might not be able to wield a sword.

Or crush somebody's head and pull out their tongue.

But, you have the ability to run from danger if the need arises.

You can get to the high grounds where it's harder for enemies to reach you.

And that puts him at ease knowing that you're able to take care of yourself.

Don't worry if you ever end up getting hurt because you fell.

He'll be right by your side, picking you up and patching you up.

He may look annoyed, but he's really concerned.

Kazan is so worried that you might climb up something too high one day. Or he won't be around to catch you.

He finds your childlike love of climbing to be endearing.

Still he finds your innocent sweet nature to be cute.

He won't say that out loud though.

Seeing you enjoy yourself with such a simple activity brings him a new hope and humanity he thought he had lost a long time ago.

[lemonmaid]

"I was reincarnated as a baby in a video game that I originally trapped in!"

Finally, the long wait sequel 😭

Warnings: fluff? Malleus is delulu

A/N: I've had to rewrite this four times due to my shit just not saving and I kinda got burned out and gaveup? I'm sorry if the ending looks rush, I will try to make a final at one point

"Sebek!!! Please for the love of the sevens, please quiet down! You're making the baby cry!"

"HOW CAN I? THERE IS A BABY IN THE WOODS! IT CAN BE A DEMON!".

Silver and Sebek bickering, it was almost reminiscing. Well if only they haven't left this place only a couple of hours ago just to re-land back into this place.

'Sliver, Sebek, please! I'm crying because I'm a fucking baby. Come on guys? Don't you recognize me?'

(Name) thought about it, if a couple of hours back in their world was only a few decades for this world- (Name)'s faced paled, 'Oh my God, do I even look the same? Do I have a tail or ears now? Lets just pray I have magic this time'.

"Maybe they're hungry?"

"Let's take them to Master!"

On the way to the castle, the two still bickered, leaving (Name) to remember what it was like before.

(Name) looked around, nothing looked too familiar but Silver and Sebek looked older. Silver had grown out his hair, holding it in a ponytail like Lilia. Sebek had also grown scales on the side of his face, like his grandfather. 'How long has time passed?' (Name) wondered.

Thunder was getting louder as they reach the castle, light spread in the sky. Causing (Name) to involuntary cry, 'Everything is so much louder as a baby' (Name) noted.

"Hey hey, shhhhh, it's okay little one, no more crocodile tears" Silver commented.

"STOP THAT"

"stop what"

"Puns!"

'Yep, just like old times' (Name) sighed.

As they reached the gate (Name) noticed that the Valley of Thorns wasn't so much a valley anymore but a fully flourished town, bustling with those old 1920 wind-up cars.

Sebek turned to Sliver, "stay here while I go fetch us a car, I don't think we could walk anymore with that thing hold us back".

As Sebek left it was just Silver and (Name), Silver had a sad look in his eye while looking at (Name). "You know it's kinda funny... we are kinda of the same".

Thunder roared in the sky. Sliver looked up to the clouds, "it seems like Malleus is upset again, maybe father cooked again" he chuckled.

'Silver has matured...' (Name) wanted to tell Sliver how proud they were, but all that came out was small cooing.

(Name) fell alseep in the car, their small baby mind and body made it exhausting to do anything, even thinking was exhausting.

"Hmm, they seem a bit malnourished". Lilia stared at the sleeping child.

Sebek scoffed, "Well of course, we found them in the labyrinth".

Malleus sat on his high thrown, watching the three bicker around the sleeping babe 'Reminds me of a certain tale'.

Malleus was uninterested, Sebek requesting an audience, rather demanding. Malleus could careless about a baby found in the middle of a labyrinth, he was more concerned about the shining light that came from said labyrinth. He thought about the perfect, he thought that they finally came back after all these years, maybe they had change their mind? Maybe they realized that this world was better than their own magicless, depressing, pathetic-

"Mallllleuus~ you're ruining that family relic we call throne with your nails".

Malleus scoffed, " I don't have time for this. Where is the perfect? Did you two come empty handed?".

Malleus's loud voice awoke (Name), startling them. Malleus aged like wine, his piercing green eye stared into their soul.

Sebek coughed before yanking (Name) out of Silver's arms. "Master! We found them where the light ended...... There was no perfect....".

Green magic engulfed their tiny body bring them close to Malleus.

"Now be careful Malleus~ they are just a babe".

As (Name) floated in the air, Malleus stared into their soul. "You're telling me... that this is all the sevens have blessed us with? How.... generous". Thunder echoed through the throne room, lighting flash. Sometimes (Name) forgot how powerful Malleus was. This was the man who could change the weather based on his mood.

As (Name) floated closer, the more scared they became, not of malleus but how utterly helpless they were, stuck in a baby's body.

"Hmmm, I smell no magic in them, but their eyes..... me of a certain human....from many years ago". (Name) floated into Malleus arms, his breathing hitched. Wrapping their tiny arms around the man, hugging him. Feeling his breathing change and how the storm that roared slowly soothed.

Malleus smiled fondly at (Name) their eyes locked.

"You shall be called "(Name)" in rememance to my dear friend, no, someone who was very dear to me. Now, now do not argue young one That is an honor. I have alot of respect for this name".

'How original Malleus'

"And you shall call me father aswell".

'WHAT' (Name) wailed.

The kingdom of thorns rejoiced when Malleus announced his new "hier", the kingdom could be heard throughout the night celebrating.

Malleus rocked (Name) back and forth as they slept.

Malleus looked at (Name) fondly, “How old do you think they are Lilia?”

Lilia sighed as he watched the celebration down below.

“I do not know, but I do know that the-”.

Malleus growled, “I do not care for what those old bag of”, he breathed, calming himself before he could awake (Name).

Lilia looked at the scene before him, reminding of himself in the past. Scared and alone with a baby, trying to fill a hole on his heart that was empty at the time.

“since the perfect’s birthday soon, that shall be (Name)’s new birthdate, (birthdate), that's soon, right Lilia? We must have a celebration!”.

Lilia sighed looking at the boy he could call a son, “I'll call the Rosehearts-”.

A celebration in deed, it reminding (Name) of that one scene in Shrek 2. No, it was that scene. A large red carpet to the entrance of the castle, the throne room decorated way to elegant for a baby's birthday, clothing to elegant for a mere child's birthday. (Name) watched boredly in Malleus lap, watching many make conversations. Some would occasionally walk up to the two, bow, leave a gift for (name) and walk away.

“Well look what that cat dragged in” Malleus teased.

‘Leona! Ruggie!’ (Name) involuntary cooed. The two obviously aged, while the Fae barely tinted. Leona’s hair gotten darker and Ruggie got taller.

“What poor person had the unfortunate to bed with a lizard?” Leona snickered.

Ruggie sighed, “Leona! Best behavior man-”

“Yes Leona, best behavior we wouldn't want another PR incident”. Malleus smiled.

‘election? I thought the Sunset Savannah was a monarchy? Is Leona trying to turn it to a democracy?’ (Name) was in deep thought, just how much has changed.

Lilia walked up to the three, “Boys couldn't you pick another day to brawl? Leona, hold your comments, aren't you trying to get supporters on your side for an election?”.

As (Name) was in deep thought, they were then host into Leona's arms.

"What's their name?"

"(Name)".

Leoma looked at Malleus with disgust and rage, "you think you can replace them!?".

Malleus glared, "I could never replace (Name) that is (Name)!".

Leona felt rage boil within him, staring down at (Name).

"Your scent... it smells like"

'Come on Leona, you can recognize me!'

"Like shit! Does anyone around here know how to take care of a baby? Their diaper is full!"

'DAMN IT'

"Stop that crying, you have no reason to cry".

[tinydefector]

Halloo, can you do Ratchet with gn!Reader where they have a high pain tolerance? Reader kept getting themselves hurt that it worries the old Ratchet bcuz most of the time they didn't show any reaction of being in pain

Medical Questions

Warnings: doctors' trip, description of stitching, past medical neglect

Word count: 2.4k

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Ratchet masterlist

Before I start this, I just wish to say thank you. This is actually something I struggle with and recently learnt stuff on. Before I continue, these are the medical charts you should be using to determine your pain and symptoms.

For a very long time, I believed dislocated joints were in the 4-5 until I ended up back in hospital due to knee dislocations and doctors telling me how the scale works and that my stuff was more in the 7 to 8 range.

Also added another little thing local anaesthetics doesn't work on me so most of the time when i get stitches it's rather annoying, i've gotten quite used to it but i thought these would be some great ideas to add in and also for educational purposes.

_____________

Soft steps are barely heard as they quietly make their way into the medical bay, eyes lingering on Ratchet's back. they bite their lip debating if it was better to see Ratchet or hope they could find First-Aid. "Ratchet," they call out nervously.

Ratchet's shoulders stiffen slightly when he hears his name called out, but he doesn't turn around immediately. Putting down the tool in his hand, the medic lets out a small huff before turning to face the visitor with a stern look.

"What is it? I'm rather busy at the moment so please keep it quick" he states gruffly, optics scanning over them with practised ease. Though his bedside manner left much to be desired, Ratchet was never one to turn away someone in need of medical assistance.

His gaze pauses when he notices their nervous expression and the way they seem to fidget under his scrutiny. After a moment, his features soften just a fraction. With a shaky breath they unwrap their arm where blood drips onto the ground "i... i think i need stitches" they state, their adrenaline level was out of the roof and they could barely feel it.

Ratchet's optics widen slightly at the sight of the freely bleeding injury. He quickly moves over to examine it closer, tutting under his breath. "Foolish human. What did you do to yourself this time?" Though his words are chiding, his touch is gentle as he inspects the wound. Carefully lifting them up onto his medical bench. He is quick with moving this so that he could make a somewhat soft seat for his patient.

"Have a seat over there, please" Ratchet states while. Retrieving saline, gauze and other medical equipment, Ratchet settles down beside them in his chair. Despite the late hour, he shows no hurry or impatience. His full attention is on them, blue optics focused on the injury.

They move to take a seat and wait patiently for Ratchet. They clench their teeth from the feeling but other than that they don't show much of a reaction to the pain.

"Was in the bar, sliced My arm on one of the broken glasses I was trying to help Swerve clean up after a rowdy night, ripped my arm right open, swerve dropped me off." They mumble ble, looking away from Ratchet as he begins washing the blood away to determine how many stitches would be needed.

Ratchet nods as he listens to their explanation, making a mental note to have a talk with Swerve about being more careful with breakable objects around humans.

"You're fortunate it isn't worse," he advises as he works.

"You're handling this remarkably well," he comments. "Either you have an unusually high pain tolerance, or your judgement is impaired in some way. I do hope you weren't overindulging at Swerve's," he says pointedly.

"Not the first injury won't be the last, it hurts, hurts alot. But yea high pain tolerance" they state, their eyes watching as Ratchet sorts through the small needles and clamps. "Don't bother with trying to numb it, it doesn't work." They call out to the medic.

Ratchet pauses in surprise at their words. "It...doesn't work? That's highly unusual." He frowns pensively. "Have you had issues with local anaesthetics failing before?"

"Nothing you can do about it Ratchet, it's the main reason my pain tolerance is so high. I learnt at a young age local anaesthetics have no effect, some sort of genetic thing."

The medic considers for a moment before shaking his head. "Regardless, it would be unethical of me not to at least attempt to minimise your discomfort." He searches through his supplies until he finds an injectable anaesthetic suitable for humans.

Ratchet administers a dose near the wound site, working slowly and carefully. He watches their face, looking for any signs of relief, however small.

A small hiss leaves their lips as they clench their teeth, breathing in slowly through their nose as they feel Ratchet slowly starting to stitch up the wound. Each time the needle pericers their skin their body twitches against their will. "Shit sorry, didn't mean to twitch" they call out.

When it seems the medication has had no effect, Ratchet's frown deepens. He runs a quick scan, checking for anything that could be interfering with the anaesthetic. Finding nothing amiss, he lets out a small huff.

"Remarkable...and concerning," Ratchet murmurs. He meets their eyes, his own filled with a mix of curiosity and worry. "We should look into this resistance further. For now,though, all I can do is apologise and promise to be as gentle as possible."

True to his word, the medic's movements are precise but tender as he begins suturing the gash. His gaze frequently flickers up, monitoring them for any additional signs of pain. Though the lack of anaesthesia troubles him, Ratchet remains dedicated to providing the best care he can.

A small hiss leaves their lips as they clench their teeth, breathing in slowly through their nose as they feel Ratchet slowly starting to stitch up the wound. Each time the needle pericers their skin their body twitches against their will. "Shit sorry, didn't mean to twitch" they call out.

Ratchet nods slowly as he continues stitching, "No need to apologise," he murmurs, pausing briefly when they twitch involuntarily. "Just try to stay still. I know it's difficult."

The medic works methodically, keeping one hand resting lightly on their arm to both stabilise and comfort. He can feel the tension in their muscles as they struggle not to flinch away from the pain.

"Almost done," Ratchet soothes. "You're doing well." He keeps his voice low and even, providing a calming presence despite the circumstances.

In short order he ties off the last suture. Cleansing the area one final time, Ratchet smoothes a protective bandage over the neat row of stitches.

"There we are. All finished." The medic steps back, gaze soft with sympathy. "You handled that admirably. " They sit there for a little while trying to let their vision return from the near blackness that haze over their eyes.

He begins tidying up, giving them a chance to breathe and recenter themselves after the ordeal. Ratchet watches carefully as they sit there quietly for a few moments. He can see the lingering strain in their features and posture as the adrenaline begins to fade.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain level right now?" he asks gently.

"This feels like about a 5 maybe a 6" they reply.

Ratchet's optics widened in surprise and concern at their rating. A 5-6 indicated moderate pain that would have most beings seeking aid. The fact that they considered this injury manageable was troubling.

The medic leans down to be closer to their level, meeting their eyes with a serious but kind gaze. "I appreciate you trying to downplay it, but a wound requiring suturing should be far above a 5. Has your sense of pain become...skewed somehow?"

He pauses, considering how best to explain. "The pain scale is meant to reflect severity. A 10 being the worst pain imaginable. For an untreated laceration like this, most would rate it an 8 or higher." Ratchet's voice is gentle,

Ratchet places a reassuring hand on their uninjured shoulder. "I know you're strong. But you don't have to be strong all the time. Not when we're alone here." His voice is a deep rumble, simultaneously stern and kind. "So please, be honest with me. How are you really feeling?"

"Umm I mean it's not killing me so it's not that bad, yea it hurts, it's gonna be a pain to do stuff with for the next while which is annoying" they reply as they open their eyes, pupils dilating in disorientation.

Ratchet's spark sinks as he realises they are being truthful in their belief of level of pain. The medic vents a soft sigh, helm shaking sadly.

"I was afraid you'd say as much," he murmurs. Seeing the disorientation in their eyes, another question comes to mind. "Did you lose consciousness at all while I was stitching? Any lapses in awareness?"

"Umm kinda get this light haze over my eyes but didn't pass out" they state telling him the exact symptom of blacking out. And ratchet realises this human doesn't even understand the basics. Ratchet asks a list of medical questions.

Ratchet's concern only grows as they describe symptoms of blacking out, yet don't seem to realise the gravity of that. It was clear there were major gaps in their medical knowledge that urgently needed addressing.

The medic pulls up a stool and takes a seat facing them. In a gentle but intent tone, he begins asking questions:

"How often have you experienced loss of vision or awareness from pain?" He scans them again, just to be sure no complications have arisen. Finding nothing of note, Ratchet gives their shoulder a light, reassuring squeeze.

"Um.. sometimes when I stand up I get lightheaded for a few seconds and when I hurt myself it can cause it to happen alot too." They explain, it makes Ratchet vent softly as he tries not to lose his composure.

"Has anyone explained why that's dangerous?"

"no... it's dangerous?"

"Rather dangerous the hazing you're referring to is you blacking out, and it can result in you passing out" Ratchet explains, he can see the gears turning in their brain. "Um.. I thought blacking out was passing out" they explain sheepishly. It makes Ratchet pinch his nasal ridge.

"What is your experience with receiving medical care in the past? Were you taught to minimise or ignore pain?" He asked rather angry, not at his patient but over the fact that they hadn't been informed correctly on how to deal with these things.

"I know this seems manageable to you, but in truth the pain scale works in this order.What is your understanding of pain levels and when to seek treatment?"

0 - I have no pain

1 -my pain is hardly noticeable

2 - I have a low level of pain, I am aware of my pain only when I pay attention to it

3- My pain bothers me but I can ignore it most of the time.

4- I am constantly aware of my pain but can continue most activities

5- I think about my pain most of the time, I can't do some activities I need to do each day. Because of the pain.

6- I think about my pain all of the time, I give up many activities because of my pain.

7- I am in pain all of the time. It keeps me from doing most activities

8- my pain is so severe that it is hard to think of anything else, talking and listening is difficult

9- My pain is all I can think about. I can barely talk or move due to the pain.

10- I need emergency room help.

The pain is your body's way of saying 'stop'." The old bot's voice takes on a pleading tone. "Promise me you'll heed that warning in the coming days. The work can wait."

Rising slowly, Ratchet gathers a mild pain reliever and subspaces it. "Take this three times a day with food and water. And please, come to me if you need anything at all. Day or night." He helps them stand, staying close should they stumble.

" So now I ask what pain scale you should be saying over bleeding wounds" Ratchet asked while looking down at them waiting for their answer.

"A ten..?" They ask sheepishly, the medic gives a nod.

" Have you ever hesitated to come to me for injuries you considered"minor "? Please be honest." He asked hoping they hadn't but their silence was almost deafening. "Please if you get hurt or sick come to me straight away"

"I see...it seems there is much I need to teach you," he says gravely. "Let's start simply - anytime you feel close to losing consciousness from pain or other causes, it indicates a serious problem. Dizziness, blurry vision, these are your body's alarm signals to stop and get help. Please alert someone or get here as soon as you can"

Ratchet meets their eyes, willing them to grasp the urgency of this. "And you must always come to me or another medic if an injury is causing significant, constant pain. Or if it impairs function at all. You should never endure that unaided, it is extremely dangerous."

He places a gentle hand on their uninjured shoulder. "I know past experience may have taught you otherwise. But you are under my care now. Please trust that I want to help, no matter how 'minor' you think an issue may be."

The old bot's voice takes on a pleading tone. "Will you make me this promise? That you will not downplay or ignore symptoms that could indicate something dangerous. Your health is far too important."

They give a soft nod. "Umm if anything starts playing up I'll come straight back" they state softly. "Umm thank you for stitching my arm up ratchet" they reply softly.

Ratchet visibly relaxes at their promise, relieved that his plea seems to have gotten through. There was still much to teach them, but this was a good start.

"Thank you," the medic replies sincerely. "You ease an old bot's worries with that."

He gives their shoulder a final pat before withdrawing his hand. "Now then, you should get some rest. Doctor's orders," Ratchet adds with a hint of his usual gruffness. But there's warmth in his optics as he looks them over.

"Take it slow moving about and don't tax yourself. I'll check on the stitches in a few days." He stands, moving to put away the last of his supplies. "And remember, have your pain killers and do not get it infected"

Ratchet walks them to the medbay doors before bidding goodnight. But he makes sure to watch until they are safely out of sight, wanting to be sure the disorientation has passed. Though still concerned about their skewed pain perceptions, the medic feels bolstered knowing they took his words to spark.

He would make certain this human learned when and how to seek help. "Primus take me" he mumbles to himself, releasing that he was going to need to sit the whole crew down for medical advice and how to handle a human who doesn't understand a pain scale.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I was reading your L*ona r- I mean, your NOT L*ona ramblings, and BFOEMLAMDLSMAN you explain everything so well... I want to make everyone see your posts istg 😭😭😭(in general but specially about him)

But I was wondering— why do you censor his name? Should I censor it if I ask you about him? (Doing it here just in case) you just seem very cool and I would hate to make u uncomfortable 🥹

Anyways, he's my fav but I totally get that love/hate reactions you have towards him, I'M THE SAME. On Twitter I always go from lovemailing him to saying "I pray for your downfall." and screaming insults into a void (so like. the same but in Spanish 😭) You're not alone I get you and my inner thoughts sound EXACTLY THE SAME 😭😭😭 (I wish I could write long analysis but anytime I try to do that with ANY fav character of mine my mind just has TOO MANY THOUGHTS and they all cancel out each other and my brain just shuts down.)

[Referencing the NOT L*ONA ROT tag, I think specifically this post!]

EW, NO 🤢 I’d rather be ill on my bedsheets than project my L*ona ramblings on a large scale and force everyone to look at it xiavszjvafqycqh,(.eRyGFDga I think I’d simply dissipate from the embarrassment OTL

I don’t censor Leona’s name because he upsets me somehow, I do it as a form of begrudging endearment. It’s similar to how I sometimes refer to Jade as “J word”! I tend to break out those terms most often when I’m (unfortunately) screaming excitedly about them, like the love-hate reactions you brought up. It’s almost like they’re forbidden words or anomalies whose names must not be spoken aloud, lest you accidentally summon them... and I think that adds to the simple charm of those monikers 🙃 So it’s completely fine if you just write characters’ names without redacting them!

Anyway, I’m happy that you were able to relate to my thoughts and experiences in some way ^^ I hope that you can continue to hang around and engage with my not-L*ona-rot~

[crystalflygeo]

That's one way to alleviate cramps ft. dragon!Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: Period sex. That's... that's it, pls do not perceive me. Zhongli is a tiny dragon on this one. Chonkli. And he has a long dragon tongue bc of course. Oral sex (reader receiving) Blood I guess it's a given??? An attempt at fluff/cuteness and humor was made.

notes: @moraxsthrone Kel I want everyone to know this is 300% YOUR FAULT (this is a link ehe). Imma just post this before I think twice and then go hit my pillow I'm hungry and TIRED and delirious. Obviously.

“Hng- f-fuck… Zhongliiiii” You groan, squirming on the sheets.

You curl into a tight ball and your arms snake around your midsection, biting your lip hard as another wave of pain washes over your body. It’s sharp, muscles spasming, it leaves you sweaty and tense and whining.

“Archons why…” You mumble, letting out a rather strained sigh.

Your body relaxes a little, melting on the bed once the cramps are over, but your body still feels sore, and it’s hot, too hot, even when you’re down to your undergarments.

A very small and rather adorable dragon shifts frantically all around you, looking very much like a distressed puppy wanting to help but not knowing very well how to.

He noses at your cheek, scales cool against the heated skin, and then laps there trying to comfort you. “I apologize for not being able to help more, dearest.” The deep voice practically echoes in your head, reassuring, and definitely not matching his current cutesy appearance.

You smile softly and run your hand along his back, the scales shivering at your touch. “I-It’s okay Li… comes and goes…”

You’ve rarely ever seen Zhongli in this form, maybe two or three times actually. A miniature and… ‘chonky’… version of his regal Exuvia, with blunt horns and claws, and the size of your torso. He almost looks like a plushie, albeit a scaled one.

He’d said it was for your comfort, and honestly, you really enjoyed cuddling him on this form, playing with his tail fluff or let him ‘make biscuits’ over your skin.

And speaking of…

Once he sees you rolled over your back again, the overgrown lizard makes his way to your belly and starts pressing his small paws over your tummy, massaging. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your throat as it tickles a little.

“That’s better. I much prefer hearing your laugh, baobei.”

“Y-yeah… thank you Li.”

It goes on for a few minutes, the cramps seemingly dissipated for now as he purrs content and your body relaxes at his ministrations. It’s soothing.

But now another problem presents itself…

You groan again and slightly grimace. Your body is all sensitive, hot and sore, and he keeps insistently pressing and kneading at your pelvis, skirting the edge of your panties and so close… so close…

Archons how can you be thinking on that now? You were in pain merely moments ago! And now’s not the time to…

“Darling?” You see the small dragon sniff at the air. “Are you… aroused?”

Oh, damn his freaky dragon senses.

He has no right to sound that amused when he looks so cute either!

“N-No?! I’m- How could I-” You sputter.

His hearty chuckle invades your mind. “No need to be embarrassed, my dear. It’s quite understandable.” The dragon coos and nuzzles at your lower belly making you shiver. “In this stage of your cycle, you’re quite vulnerable and your hormones-”

“Stop. Stop talking biology to me I don’t- I don’t want to hear it!” You exclaim, face flushing. And yet you feel yourself getting needier.

And you know he knows.

“Very well.” His little paws and snout skim at your thighs and you feel the mattress shift as he settles between your legs curling there as if it was the most normal course of action. “Then, will you allow me to tend to you?” His head rests over your inner tight, staring up at you with bright rounded golden eyes.

“Li. I’m bleeding. It’s disgusting…” You mumble deadpanning.

The dragon only blinks at you “Oh, I assure you it’s not. It doesn’t bother me. And even so, beneath metallic smell of blood the scent of your arousal is rather tantalizing…”

Celestia’s sake.

You cover your face with your hands. “You perverted old lizard…f-fine…”

He only chuckles again and next thing you know you let out a shameful squeak as you feel the small dragon press his nose against your clothed core, hot and dampness mixing up together and causing funny feelings to swirl inside you.

Even in this form, Zhongli is nothing but thorough and attentive with his love as he nips and licks at your skin in smooth and carefully considered paths for a moment before starting to pull off your underwear on blunt teeth and clumsy paws.

Still a bit mortified but much hornier than you’d care to admit, you help out on the task, taking out the last piece of clothing you had on and laying back down fully naked. Well. Good thing the mattress was already protected in your paranoia to avoid stains…

The slow thoughtful drag of that thick dragon tongue over your folds has you immediately keening. You cover your face still embarrassed as he laps up the residual taste of blood and shed lining, dutifully cleaning you up.

The tang of copper and iron on his tongue makes him a bit feral and he enthusiastically dives deeper, rewarded with your moans that only spur him on. His little dragon snout rubbing against your clit as the long serpentine tongue enters you. Not as thick as usual but certainly just as skilled.

“Hah… T-That feels so good…”

“I’m glad.” The dragon hums proudly. “Pleasure and orgasms are certainly good ways to mitigate pain and allow the body to unwind.”

“A-Ah! Y-You can certainly… hng… multitask, hm? Lord of Geo?”

You feel that sinful tongue slide out of you wetly, and then lick insistently at the little bundle of nerves, pulling a high-pitched mewl out of you.    

“I’d say, the fact that you’re still able to talk means I’m not doing my job properly. Allow me, dearest.”

Pleasure builds steadily as Zhongli’s forked tongue works inside you, massaging and trusting in all the right spots, as outside, carefully blunted fangs toy with your sensitive swollen clit. He drags your climax out of you languidly and reverent and you come with a broken cry, dissolving into soft whimpers as your pussy gushes weakly. A heady mix of your juices and blood which the dragon happily cleans up with more swipes of that little tongue.

Once the job is done, the little dragon sighs and climbs up to nuzzle his head against your heaving chest and you drowsily start petting along the serpentine body, his tail curling around you, either possessive, protective or simply loving and you kiss at his snout. You stay like that for a while, both soaking up the other's presence in the sweet afterglow. Until Zhongli’s soft rumble appears back in your head.

“Not so bad after all, I take it?”

“Mm… I suppose not.” You reply, groggy and already half asleep. “Wouldn’t be opposed to… do that again…” You yawn.

“Of course, darling. Glad to help in any way I can.”

[sexy-n-stressed]

Deck the halls Pt. 2 (Conner Kent X Male Reader)

Not me editing out the parts where I said I would write smut in this part hehe. I was going too but after the LEGO scene I just couldn't it was too adorable.

I'm writing this at a bus stop, which I will be stuck at for the next 20 minutes, and then stuck on a bus for another 35. I mean, why not write fanfiction while sitting next to a stranger and an old person. Enjoy hehe.

Quick update: the guy behind me is reading this over my shoulder so, uh, you enjoy too.

————————————————————

The words barely left Conner’s lips before you were nodding in a way that said you were a little too desperate. You were desperate though, so.

You struggled to keep yourself contained as you ascended the staircase behind the boy. What was about to happen? A tryst? A menage e tois? You barely knew what those words meant, especially not the French one. Why were you thinking those? Passing by doors to rooms you'd never been in, it was almost like a guessing game. Which room belonged to THE superman, and which room belonged to the equally as famous toilet.

Conner slowly opened the door to his room, most likely to avoid ripping it off of it's hinges. “This is the room the Kent’s let me- I mean, my room”

Conner’s room was practically empty, with only a bed and a small lamp on a desk across the room, and was rather small for both a kryptonian and a house of this scale. You couldn't help but think of Harry Potter and the closet. Speaking of closets.

Conner awkwardly stood there, trying to gauge the emotion on your face, like he was worried you wouldn't approve.

“I like it, seems cozy” Cramped and cozy were practically synonyms anyway, right?

He smiled, before rushing over to the bed, and reaching under it, pulling out a tub of LEGO’s. “Wanna play LEGO?”

You almost giggled, from the absurdity of the situation and the fact one of the most dangerous individuals on earth was playing with LEGO, but seeing the look on his face, you couldn't say no.

And that's how you and Conner wound up on the floor of his room playing LEGO, with you making structurally sound lego towers, and him smashing them down as a makeshift dinosaur or robot rampaged through the ‘city’. You had to admit, it was pretty fun. And he looked like he was having the time of his life.

“So, how long have you been living with the Kent’s” You asked warily, watching as Conner’s eyes looked up from the LEGO’s before snapping back down

“Um, a couple months now.” He looked nervous, like he was hiding something.

“Have they been treating you well?”

“Well, Ma is always nice to me, making sure I finish my plate and picking out church clothes.” His eyes drifted to the door, “But everyone else is still..”

You leaned forward, placing a hand on the boy who was seemingly much more complex then the angry brute you'd heard others whispering about.

“I'm… a clone. Of Clark.” Oh.

I mean, you guessed you could see the resemblance. The raven hair, the chiselled jawline, the intense musculature. But he seemed nothing like Clark. More… real, in a way. Clark seemed so above everything else, like he was a God and as much as he wanted to be human, he was just better. More perfect. Not that he did it on purpose. Maybe it was just your perception of him, knowing that he was Superman and all.

“Not just Clark though, Lex Luthor too. The rich guy and the supervillain trying to destroy Clark.” Conner clearly knew about the conflicting emotions Clark must have over him, with him being both a perversion of his genetic code and partly related to his biggest enemy.

“They all pretend they're ok with it, but they're not. I hear them talk about what to do with me, whether I should be trained or…” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant.

“Well, then they're stupid.” Conner cocked his head.

“If they don't see you for who you are, then screw them. You’re Conner. Not just a clone of Clark.” His expression showed he’d clearly never heard those words, even among the worlds so-called ‘virtuous heroes’.

Unable to find the words, Conner just leapt over and embraced you, crushing the LEGO city you both had created.

“You’re worth more than what others see you as Conner, don't forget that.”

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi Nalyra. I would love to hear your thoughts about Nickistat because Virginia is very biased against the relationship and often romanticizes Loustat and ignores all the clues that Nicki was Lestat's first and deepest love. Lestat might have fell deeply for Louis, but he would never have left Nicki if Nicki and Gabrielle didn't tell him to. I just don't understand how anyone can diminish Nickistat and say Nicki didn't love him because if Lestat had to pick between the lover that wanted them to struggle because of his own depression and the lover that literally tried to kill him, I'm opting for the first. I honestly believe that Nickistat would still be together and Lestat would have never paid Louis a second glance if Nicki never died. If Nicki never unalived himself, I don't think anyone could deny that if Nicki showed up during Loustat's "raccoon era", Lestat would not have thought twice about leaving Louis to be with Nicki. Lestat would have been out of there so quickly and I wouldn't have blamed him. It's unfortunate that the depression got the most of Nicki because they had the potential to be on a far grander and happier scale than Loustat. Louis would have been the Antoinette to Lestat had Nicki lived.

My brother in Christopher.

Louis would have been the Antoinette? Lestat would not have thought twice about leaving Louis?

Nonny. Dear.

So totally apart from the fact that I also think Antoinette was a bit different than meets the eye right now...

You said that "you would opt for the first" and I think that's the crux of the matter. You would, and that's okay. However, lets take a look at some facts.

Louis did not try to kill Lestat, that was Claudia

Nicolas depression started way before his relationship with Lestat

Nicki isn't someone who comes into the relationship with Lestat "untainted". He's already rebelled. Already went against his father's wishes, already sold his watch when his father smashed his violin. Gabrielle notes that "the worst part is that he plays rather well", because he is too old make it as a career.

Nicolas must have been told that and must be aware of that, because he literally builds that first connection with Lestat by using the quite self-aware admission that he, too, is "impossible".

Nicolas is sarcastic when he tells Lestat of Paris: "But in rapid, sometimes sarcastic speech[...]"

He's also not too fond of his own experiences: "I'll tell you, " he said finally, "it all sounds a hell of a lot better in this room than it really is. "

Right after this, there is this note from Lestat: "I was beginning to understand why he was so sarcastic arid cynical.

Sarcastic. Arid. Cynical.

These are Lestat's first impressions of Nicolas. He also gives us what drew him nonetheless: "But no matter how deadening was this sarcasm of his, a great energy poured out of him, an irrepressible passion. And this drew me to him. I think I loved him."

This passion drew Lestat. But he recognized the darkness within Nicolas even then.

Nicolas was doomed from the start. He calls the violin the "Devil's Instrument".

He literally tells Lestat that he thinks Paris a "miserable hellhole" in their first conversation.

As others, Nicolas is drawn to Lestat's light though (as it is called in the books), and there is this... let's call it helpless love that develops. They are young, they have common ground, and they click. First love.

I absolutely believe that the love they felt was real, and that they were infatuated, and loved each other very much.

But Nicolas never wanted to go back to the "hellhole". When he later tells Lestat that he wanted them to "go down", to starve on the streets, then that calls right back to that very first conversation. It is right there, from the beginning.

"I make music and it makes me happy, " he said. "What is blessed or good about that? " I waved it away as I always did his cynicism now.

Lestat... waves the darkness away, but he perceives it.

Nicolas believes that "sin always feels good". He sees what they have as a sin. And he revels in it.

"Lestat, we're partners in sin, " he said, smiling finally.

When they talk about running away, Lestat is mightily excited... but not excited enough to miss the warning signs: "All his cynicism had vanished, even though he did throw in the word "spite " every ten words or so."

Nicolas does not run away to Paris for a new start. He does it to spite his father.

"All a misunderstanding, my love, " he said. Acid on the tongue. The blood sweat had broken out again, and his eyes glistened as if they were wet. "It was to hurt others, don't you see, the violin playing, to anger them, to secure for me an island where they could not rule. They would watch my ruin, unable to do anything about it. " I didn't answer. I wanted him to go on. "And when we decided to go to Paris, I thought we would starve in Paris, that we would go down and down and down. It was what I wanted, rather than what they wanted, that I, the favored son, should rise for them. I thought we would go down! We were supposed to go down. " "Oh, Nicki... " I whispered.

Oh, Nicki, indeed.

Lestat loved Nicki.

Despite the darkness. Maybe because of it. He certainly was aware of it. Just as he is aware of the darkness in Louis later.

But...

Nicolas... wasn't love at first sight for Lestat. Gabrielle had to tell him to go and make a friend of him, to which Lestat's first reaction was: "Why the hell should I do that?"

"But why don't you go down to the town and make a friend of him? " she asked. "Why the hell should I do that? " I asked. "Lestat, really. Your brothers will hate it. And the old merchant will be beside himself with joy. His son and the Marquis's son. " "Those aren't good enough reasons." "He's been to Paris, " she said. She watched me for a long moment. Then she went back to her book, brushing her hair now and then lazily. I watched her reading, hating it. I wanted to ask her how she was, if her cough was very bad that day. But I couldn't broach the subject to her. "Go on down and talk to him, Lestat, " she said, without another glance at me.

Now, I am not trying to diminish Nickistat here.

It's beautiful, and tragic. I love their relationship, because of all the facets it has.

But it was doomed from the start.

If Nicki had survived, then this would have led to catastrophe, not relief. Nicki showing up through the "racoon era"... I mean, you are aware that Lestat stayed with Louis intentionally and voluntarily. (And that Louis did the same, something that somehow tends to be overlooked. They both could have left, could have moved out. But they didn't.) Lestat did not want to leave Louis, and Louis did not want to leave Lestat, despite everything. It is that simple.

If Nicolas would have showed up his darkness would have been festering for decades/centuries. He was already spiraling in Paris, and definitely so after turning, he would have been mad by then.

A mad vampire, hell-bent on relief for his pain, trapped in the darkness, fueled by twisted love.

If Nicolas would have showed up then, Louis would have been in danger, and Lestat would have been forced to kill him, eventually.

And Lestat always protects Louis.

Let's finish with Lestat's own words on Louis, and Nicolas:

Shortly after reaching the colony, I fell fatally in love with Louis, a young dark-haired bourgeois planter, graceful of speech and fastidious of manner, who seemed in his cynicism and self destructiveness the very twin of Nicolas. He had Nicki's grim intensity, his rebelliousness, his tortured capacity to believe and not to believe, and finally to despair. Yet Louis gained a hold over me far more powerful than Nicolas had ever had. Even in his cruelest moments, Louis touched the tenderness in me, seducing me with his staggering dependence, his infatuation with my every gesture and every spoken word. And his naiveté conquered me always, his strange bourgeois faith that God was still God even if he turned his back on us, that damnation and salvation established the boundaries of a small and hopeless world. Louis was a sufferer, a thing that loved mortals even more than I did. And I wonder sometimes if I didn't look to Louis to punish me for what had happened to Nicki, if I didn't create Louis to be my conscience and to mete out year in and year out the penance I felt I deserved. But I loved him, plain and simple.

I know the fandom jokes often about how stupid or shallow Lestat is, but he actually is quite aware. He reflects. He sees the parallels, and his own faults in the game. He owns up to his mistakes, too.

At the end of Blood Communion there is this little conversation, between him and Louis (and a nice little nod towards memory):

“Yes, Nicolas,” I answered. “Seemed all the little victories of life and life after death were so hard for him, happiness was so hard for him...joy was an agony I think, but I don’t want to think of it now.” “Some of us are infinitely better at being miserable than happy,” he said gently. “We’re good at it, and proud of it, and we get better and better at it, and we simply don’t know what it means to be happy.” I nodded. My thoughts were as thick and confused as the dancers, the music. But the dancers and the music were beautiful. My thoughts were not. I could not recall ever having spoken of Nicolas to Louis, never ever even mentioning Nicolas’s name. But then I do not remember everything, as I once thought I did. There is something in us, even us, that will not allow for that, something that pushes the memory of suffering that is unbearable slowly away. “I have no gift for being miserable,” I said. “I know,” he said. He laughed. Such a human face. Such a lovely face. There must surely have been twice as many blood drinkers now in this ballroom as there had ever been, and I sensed that I had ought to stop having such a marvelous time and return to greeting newcomers as the Prince should. But not before holding Louis for a moment, and then kissing him and telling him low in French that I loved him and always had.

This is where Anne ended the books.

With their dance, and Lestat telling Louis he loves him and always had. With the awareness that for Nicolas joy was agony. And Louis understanding. Because Louis has been there.

Other than Nicolas though... Louis manages to overcome his darkness. Eventually. He knows. He sees. He accepts. And he does not shy away from Lestat's "light".

And that is why, at the end, it is Louis, for Lestat.

_______

So, "biased" or not, I'm not sure I see it very differently to V?

Nicolas was doomed from the start, and so was their relationship.

Unfortunately.

Also, last but not least, if I may: "unalive"? You mean killed himself. Committed suicide. This isn't TikTok. Please use the proper words. Self-censorship is the way to preemptively accepting censorship. Thank you.

[solradguy]

Recently I've started to try and study a lot of the artwork for Guilty Gear, particularly the artwork by Daisuke. I was reading your translation of the notes in the XX artbook and I realized that on a lot of the artwork I really liked, Daisuke mentioned mistakes he made. I found this odd since, again, most of them I thought were absolute masterpieces.

I know that people always say "You're your own worst critic", especially to artists, but I guess that it never really set in until I was reading those.

I get nobody's art is perfect (Daisuke is no exception, there are pieces in the artbook that even I could see were rather flawed), but the fact that I am staring in aw at some artwork and I then read that the creator of it was upset that the perspective was all off feels insane. Kinda makes me think about how I critique my own art when I have so many people in my life who think I'm an amazing artist.

I know this is gonna sound stupid and corny but I wanted to get this out of my head since it's been in there for at least a week or two now. Probably didn't word this the best since it's getting a bit late since I decided to stay up to listen to the new (and by new I mean two years old) Red Hot Chili Peppers album while drawing and I thought of this again.

Also thanks for translating the art book. Although the artwork by itself is still great, the comments (as I have stated) were really insightful for me personally. You really are a rad guy, at least in my eyes.

When I first translated Artworks of GGX 2000-2007, I thought Daisuke's harshness towards his art was possibly a Japanese cultural thing, since it's not uncommon for creators in Japan to kind of talk down their own accomplishments ("kenkyo"; [1] [2]). But then I got a bit better at Japanese and read commentary and autobiographical works by other artists—Hirohiko Araki, Kentarou Miura, and Ryoko Kui [3]—and they're much more positive about their creations. They're still humble about it, as any professional generally is, but they certainly aren't as critical as Daisuke is in Artworks 2007. It's definitely odd.

Artworks 2007 is an updated/expanded reprint of an edition that came out 3 years earlier, Artworks of GGX 2000-2004, so a little over half of the captions in Artworks 2007 were written between 2000 and 2004. If it wasn't kenkyo that made Daisuke critical about his art, then, I thought, maybe all the work he had on his plate leading up to the Sammy-Sega merger, which threatened the Guilty Gear IP as a whole[4], had him in kind of a depressive/hyper-critical mindset? That still feels like it could be plausible; his more recent (>2010) commentary is a lot kinder.

It is reassuring knowing that even incredibly skilled artists like Daisuke can still fall into being mean about their own art. Some things never change haha Here's hoping, like Daisuke, we all crawl out of that hyper-critical borderline self-loathing art pit 💪

Thanks for reading the translation!! And for the compliment. Artworks 2007 was my very, very, first large scale GG translation project and I'd like to redo it some day, some of the translations are a little wobbly.... I didn't make a Japanese manuscript for it though, which means I'll have to rescan every page again to get the text off them 😵‍💫

~ https://sakuratips.com/2020/10/20/humble/

~ https://interculturalwordsensei.org/kenkyo/

Hirohiko Araki is known for Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Kentarou Miura for Berserk, and Ryoko Kui for Dungeon Meshi

~ https://www.siliconera.com/arc-system-works-now-owns-the-rights-to-guilty-gear/

(sorry for the ~ before the links lol tumblr really wanted to turn them into embeds...)

[tj-dragonblade]

popping my head in to ask about Mer Hob 👀 from the WIP title ask game

Finally popping my head back up to answer, my apologies for the wait! Mer-Hob came out of server conversations about mer-Dreamling fish assignments and aquatic mating displays, but he kind of fizzled out with the scene I tried to write. Dusting him off for this, though, I think I can breathe the spark back into it. Take it past where I meant to before, so it will have a more satisfactory conclusion. I have scrapped the lackluster 'how did they meet' that was stalling me out and given them new backstory and now I'm unsure how exactly I want to structure this. Start where I've started and then jump back to the meeting, then bring them back to the present? Make the backstory a separate fic? Rearrange the whole thing chronologically, which would require a lot of rework and shortening of the current opening bit? IDK but I'll figure it out. In the meantime, here is a chunky chunk of drafting for their meet-cute (sfw but cut for length):

Dream is not surprised to find a waterline-level cave out on the rock formation in the bay, on the side not visible from shore. Nor is he overly surprised to find someone stretched out in the handsbreadth of water covering the floor with their eyes closed, as the morning light fills the first several feet of the cave brightly in a way that is conducive to sunbathing.

The fact that the sunbather has a bright orange tail with brilliant yellow fins and blue-black leopard-like spots is rather less expected, however, and Dream gasps his surprise.

The sound startles the man—the merman—surely not?—who sits bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking as he locks gazes with Dream not an arm's length away.

Dream's heart skips a beat. He's beautiful—

"Oh, fuck!" The merman—there is no other explanation, no mistaking the flurry of fins and scales as he moves—the merman twists and flops and dives past Dream, a less-than-graceful plunge off the rock and into the sea and then he is gone.

"Wait!" Dream cries, to the bright flick of yellow vanishing into the depths, but of course it is no use.

He could swim back to the boat, could don his diving gear and follow—but no. The merman is already gone, and will be more so by the time Dream could be equipped to give chase.

He swallows back his disappointment, his disbelief, and tells himself resolutely that he surely imagined the entire thing.

But he did not imagine it, he knows this; the knowledge lodges in his mind, burrows down into his consciousness and curls around his common sense, stokes his curiosity.

He saw a merman.

Merpeople do not exist.

But he saw one.

He returns the next day, hoping perhaps to repeat the discovery, but he is the only visitor to the cave in the hours that he spends there. When the tide has gone out and come back in, high enough once more to cover the floor of the cave, when he has spent all day waiting with nothing to show for it, he admits defeat and swims back to his boat.

He returns again, and again, later each day with the drift of the tide, diving to explore beneath the surface when the cave remains empty. He finds nothing of note, nothing to hint at the existence of merfolk, nothing at all out of the ordinary; by day six, he is trying to convince himself to make peace with the likelihood that he will never find any trace of the merman he knows he had seen.

On day seven, the merman is back, sunbathing at the front of the cave again.

Only this time, he has human legs, is wearing swim trunks, is sitting further away from where Dream is treading water, stunned.

"…Hello," Dream manages.

"Hi," the man says, warmly polite. He is cross-legged with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the other wrist; he is meant to look casual and relaxed, Dream is certain, but the tension and the nervousness coming off of him are palpable.

He is still beautiful.

"You're. I saw you here, before?" His thoughts are still trying to catch up; he hoists himself into the cave, doesn't move closer.

The man's shoulders drop a tiny fraction. "Yeah, yep! Startled me good, you did!" He chuckles lightly, a carefree and casual sound; the fingers of his dangling hand wriggle, a nervous and distracted sort of gesture that draws Dream's attention to the profusion of hair on his bare legs, and arms, and what Dream can see of his chest.

"You had a. A tail, last time," Dream says, somewhat awkwardly, tearing his gaze from the sprinkling of hair on the man's bare toes.

"Oh, that, yes!" The man grins, bright and disarming. "I'm a mermaid performer, with the, ah, the local carnival."

Dream is convinced this is a lie even as the logical part of his brain points out that this explanation makes far more sense than believing in merfolk. He knows what he saw, the flexing of muscle and the fanning of fins, the bending and twisting that did not match up to the way that human legs would move in that configuration. The merman speaks with casual confidence, but the tension in his frame and the nervous fidget of his clasped hand are easy to read.

"…No, I don't think you are," Dream says, and the man's bright smile dips before returning to full wattage.

"Calling me a liar, are you?" He laughs, a light and enchanting sound that Dream immediately wants to hear more of. "Merfolk, they don't actually exist, I'll have you know."

~ The wip tag has a tiiiny bit more of this one, also.

[yuurivoice]

Laying in bed having a think.

As I try and tackle three intertwined (four? fuck) narrative stories more meticulously than I've crafted any of my narratives thus far, I find myself making several realizations.

BitterSweet is a product of me being at several mental low points but failing upwards. BitterSweet wasn't even intended to be a real narrative, but rather an introduction to Seth then sort of a choose you own adventure, listen to either "path" type thing. When the story revealed itself to me it was very exciting, but I was just going episode to episode and seeing where I'd end up.

Chapter 2 had more planning, a pretty defined outline, and was executed just about to perfection. I think 2 is probably the strongest in terms of knowing wtf was going on and seeing it through.

Chapter 3 is one I feel deeply conflicted about. Plans had to change on the fly multiple times. The scale got out of hand. I was on the struggle bus and only managed to write an episode two at once. It was a mess. We hit some high marks, and some of my favorite performances are in there, but there's this dark cloud over it for me. It's a shame, but it got done.

I can see really clearly how my struggle with my mental health, ADHD, etc. played significant roles in hindering me. So on one hand, I'm thrilled that I was able to make something cool that so many people appreciate and enjoy despite how challenging it was. On the other hand...there's a lot I wish could have been different.

Those wishes have informed many of the choices I'm making now as I tackle Shattered and Echoes, as well as BitterSweet and the unnamed thing. I'm not hitting the big red launch button until it is complete. I've never done that. But I want my writing to be tighter and more cohesive. I'm lucky that making shit up as I went and hitting the broader strokes I knew were there worked out as well as it did, but also I've tripped over myself a time or two.

As ambitious as I'm trying to be with weaving these stories, I want to make sure that when you step back and look at the big picture, it makes sense, but is also really fucking dope.

That's my hope.

This next batch of work is going to be special for me. I'm in my medicated era, but I'm working with a lot of the bones put in place by a version of me that was operating well below capacity.

Reading those first drafts I wrote last year was humbling. God they were bad. Frustratingly so because when I took a hammer to it, what I cooked up in significantly less time on the second draft was so much better than what felt like I had to pull teeth to accomplish before.

I try and tell myself not to look at all of my work through that lens of "I could have done so much better" but it's frustrating. I've gotta cook with the groceries that version of me brought home lol.

It boils down to this. When these next projects launch and the dust settles, I don't want to be glad it's over. When I finished BS3, I breathed a sigh of relief because it felt like I just got out of a year long brawl.

When I finish these projects, I want to be proud. I think that's the conclusion I reached. I was not proud of my work, because it was tainted with compromise and frustration that outside factors fucked with several aspects of it.

So I'm trying to prove to myself that I can do better than that. For myself. I've shaken off the frustration that I'm an entire year behind schedule. I've committed myself to completing it all before it sees the light of day. I've streamlined the process. I really tried to set myself up for success.

When I was struggling I'd cut every corner, I'd phone it in, I'd toss out ambitious ideas for the sake of just being able to call it done.

There's a lot less of that happening now. I'm able to at least try and hold myself to something resembling a standard. Now I just hope I can execute.

Thanks for reading. Sorry about all of whatever that was.

[nerdraging4point0]

The Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Five // PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only MDNI, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @bloody-delusion-expert

The week with Noah had flown by in a blur of pier dates, shopping sprees, late night movies, and even later nights between the sheets. It felt like less than seven days. He'd asked if I could make it to the rock festival kicking off the fall tour next week. I'd nearly forgotten about it. I told him I wasn't sure about my work schedule, which wasn't a total lie.

Back at the office grind, the magical week with Noah seemed like a distant memory. I'd completely forgotten to check if I could get the time off for the festival. I was just clocking out for lunch when my phone buzzed with a new text. It was from Chris. He'd sent a screenshot of a ticket QR code for the festival. Underneath was a simple message that sent my anxiety spiraling:

See you there.

Oh god, this could be a disaster. I feel my heart start to race as I realize Noah and Chris will both be at the festival. How can I face them together? Noah will be crushed if he finds out Chris was the one I slept with right before we started dating. Am I even dating him? He never asked, just seemed implied. He'll think I'm just some groupie, trying to hook up with every metal singer I can.

My hands are shaking and my stomach is in knots.

I texted him back in a panic, scrambling to come up with an excuse to get out of going to the festival. I told him I wasn't sure I could afford the ticket now, what with everything else going on. It was a lame excuse, I know, but I was desperate.

"You're VIP, don't argue with me. I'll see you there," he wrote back firmly. He wasn't having any of my hedging. I could tell he really wanted me to be there, but I just couldn't do it.

The festival is tomorrow. How am I supposed to come clean before then? Is it even worth going at this point? I should just tell them now rather than drop this bomb when I see them there. My mind is spinning, trying to justify delaying this conversation.

I found myself wandering aimlessly down the street to the nearby park, escaping from my office for a few minutes. Sitting on the cool metal bench, I pulled up their numbers and started a group text. It's easier to explain things to both of them at once rather than dragging it out one-on-one. If I tried to type this all out twice, I know I wouldn't be able to do it.

"Boys," I began, my hands shaking, "I'm sorry I haven't been fully honest with you two. But to be fair, neither of you clearly defined what we were to each other. I don't know what it means that I've been with you both—are we just friends with benefits? Was I dating one of you? Both of you? I'm so confused. Before I see you at the festival tomorrow and this all blows up, we need to get this out in the open."

My heart pounds as I hit send on the nonsensical text. The minutes of my lunch break tick by, yet my phone remains silent. I stare at the screen, willing a response to appear. Nothing.

Now I'm back at my desk, panic swirling in my gut. What was I thinking, sending something so random? The silence is deafening.

I can barely focus, rereading our thread over and over. My pulse races and my throat tightens. What if I scared them away for good this time? Or made them think I'm unhinged?

Tapping away at my phone as we taxi down the runway, I feel a knot in my stomach when her name and an unknown number pops up on the screen. I don't recognize the number, but the area code says Los Angeles. Reading the cryptic words over and over, I realize I have no clue what to say. Glancing at Rick dozing peacefully in the seat beside me, I envy his relaxed flying mentality. Airplanes make me uneasy, though it's not really a fear thing. I just don't like the lack of control when we're thousands of feet in the air. Rick calls it my need for control.

The second we landed in Denver, my stomach twisted. My mind raced as we made our way through the terminal. Should I try to see her while we're here? Could I somehow explain everything face-to-face? That might be better than a text or call. Oh man, what would I even say? "Hey, remember that passionate night we shared? Well, I'm still crazy about you..." Yeah, no way. I'm in way over my head here.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, responding before my brain has time to catch up. "Whoa, wait, let's rewind. First things first - who else are we talking about here?"

It's barely past four, and I'm sure she's already off work - she always leaves early on Thursdays. I watch the three dots bouncing at the bottom of my screen, eyes glued, wondering how complicated this story she's typing could possibly be.

Her text pings through, and it takes me a solid minute to parse it all.

"Okay, Cliff Notes version: I met you both at your concerts. Noah - Chris and I hooked up after his show and have been flirty since. Chris - I visited Noah in LA and we obviously got physical, if you know what I mean."

I read her words again, slowly, trying to fit the pieces together in my head. I've never been great at puzzling things out on my own - I do better thinking out loud.

"Noah...concert...Los Angeles," I murmur, voice echoing my thoughts.

"What about Bad Omens?" Vin interjects, tuning into my words.

"Huh?" I reply, confused.

"Noah, LA, concert - Bad Omens, right?" As he says it, the lightbulb clicks on. Noah Sebastian. Noah Sebastian!

My fingers are flying across the keyboard again. “Noah, like Bad Omens, Noah Sebastian. That Noah?” 

The unknown number is responding. 

“Yeah, and who are you?” another three dots and he’s texting again. 

“Chris Cerulli.” I type out my name as if it matters. I never use my last name, but i’ve met Noah before, we sat next to each other in several interviews on shiprocked. 

“Motionless? Oh shit.” 

I'm at a loss for words. Bad Omens is set to play at the festival the day after tomorrow, so there's no question Noah's already here in Denver or he's about to fly in. I'm trying to compartmentalize the whirlwind in my mind, desperate to make some sense of it all. I've hooked up with girls without attachments or commitments before - I'm sure Noah's done the same. To be honest, I hadn't considered anything too serious between us. I was enjoying the casual vibe we had going on. But now, knowing she might be with someone else...could I really do that? Could Noah? I don't know.

I type away to the chat, taking a breath and holding it as I see my words plastered out to the void. “But you’re still coming to the festival, right?”

I slump down in this too-small chair at LAX, ball cap pulled low and sunglasses hiding my eyes. I'm trying to disappear - don't want anyone recognizing me. I'm also trying to hide the fact that I'm royally pissed off. Can't put my finger on who I'm mad at though. Her, for hooking up with him?  Myself, for just assuming we were exclusive without ever saying it outright? Both seem likely. I know I can't hold her past against her, but damn, running into her ex on set tomorrow is gonna sting like hell. This waiting around, with nowhere to put all this frustrated energy - it's killing me. I need to hit the gym or something, get this poison out of my system. 

They announce our flight is boarding, I rise from my seat and keep my eyes averted, anxiously spinning my phone between my hands before briefly presenting the digital boarding pass on the screen to the attendant. She offers me a polite smile, but I'm too preoccupied to return the gesture. When we locate our assigned seats, I take the window spot, absentmindedly watching the ground crew below load the luggage onto the rotating conveyor belt leading to the plane's cargo hold. I spot my battered old suitcase passing by, along with the band's instruments and the rest of our haphazardly packed carry-ons. We could have easily driven to our destination, but Matt insisted that flying would be faster.

As I sit here on this plane, my mind races with thoughts of her. How can I possibly end things when every fiber of my being screams to stay? We aren’'t exclusive, I could walk away without a glance back. But she's burrowed deep under my skin, and try as I might, I can't shake her. Never before have I wavered when it came to matters of the heart. Cross me and you're gone. Disappoint me and I won't think twice. I trust my gut and never look back. But she's different. With her, I'm plagued by indecision and self-doubt. I'm a Scorpio to the core - intense, all or nothing. Once I've crossed that bridge, I burn it down in flames. But with her, I find myself lingering on the edges, unable to take that final step. She's awakened something in me I don't recognize. A vulnerability I've never known. A connection I'm not ready to sever.

My phone is in airplane mode but I can't help staring at the texts on the screen, as if somehow they will change my mind or provide the answers I'm desperately seeking. I know it's fruitless, just words on a muted screen, but I read them over and over, having already committed every word to memory. With a sigh, I finally close out and sit back, trying in vain to relax in the cramped airline seat before I inevitably reopen our conversation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Manning," the pilot's voice stirs the sleepy passengers as we touch down in Denver. "On behalf of all our staff and United Airlines, we welcome you to Denver, Colorado." The cabin erupts in a shuffle of activity as passengers hastily gather their belongings, eager to deplane. I hesitantly switch off airplane mode and wait as my phone explodes with a barrage of emails and notifications before the message I've been anxiously anticipating finally comes through. My heart pounds as I open it, knowing those few words will determine my mood and mindset when I step off this plane into the next phase of my journey, for better or worse.

Motionless' text message lands in my inbox and I hesitate before opening it, wary that its contents might ignite an argument or stir unwelcome pity - both options I'd rather avoid. His text is brief and to the point: "Can you meet me at the Embassy tonight?" I glance across the aisle at Matt and Folio, already busily packing their bags, eager to exit the plane and head straight for our rooms at the Mariott.

I know I should wait until I'm settled at the hotel before responding, take time to think it over and discuss meeting up with Matt first. But instead, on impulse, I type back a quick "yes" before I can overthink or talk myself out of it.

Motionless and I have a complicated history of passion for our music and some unspoken rivalry between our fans, i’m not really sure where that rumor got started. While part of me wants to avoid potential conflict, another part is drawn like a moth to flame, curious to see what might transpire when we come together again. I click send on the text, sealing my fate. Now all that's left is to wait and wonder what the night will bring.

Stepping out of the shower, I'm barely dry before my phone pings. Noah's been radio silent all day while Chris has come out of left field and downright. Their thoughts have been impossible to read. My screen lights up with a text - they've agreed to meet at the Embassy downtown where Chris is staying.

I get dressed with a heavy heart, bracing myself for the inevitable end. This is it, I just know it. I'm not ready to say goodbye, but ripping off the bandaid is better than prolonging the pain. It's like being a kid dragged to the dentist for a tooth extraction before the promised ice cream cone after. You want the sweet reward, just not the agony that comes before it. Tonight it will all be over, and although my heart is not prepared, my head knows it's time to face the music.

I drive in silence, my nerves making the quiet even more deafening. Parking with the valet, I step inside the lavish hotel lobby on shaky legs. The elevators require a keycard for the upper floors, so I awkwardly text that I've arrived. Neither comes down to get me, instead sending a hotel employee to escort me up. The ride is excruciating - me avoiding eye contact while the man stands too close. I knock on their door, praying no one else is in the hall to witness my humiliation.

My heart pounds as Chris answers the door, his blonde hair cascading past his ears, dressed casually in a gray hoodie and adidas pants. I catch a glimpse of Noah sitting on the couch, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, staring at me intently. My stomach lurches and I want to bolt - I can't go through with this.

Chris gently grasps my arm just above the elbow, guiding me into the hotel room. He leads me to the end of the couch, sitting me down a few spaces from Noah. I can't bring myself to look at either of them, consumed by shame, the tension suffocating.

Chris moves the coffee table out a bit before perching on it directly in front of me, just an arm's length from Noah. We sit in excruciating silence before I finally blurt out, "There isn't much else to say."

“I think there is a lot to say,” Chris said “I mean i’ve been bouncing around with it a lot, i’m on the fence, but I am cool to keep things casual between us.” I blinked at Chris, trying to hide my disappointment as he rambled on with that wishy-washy response. His leg bounced nervously and he kept fidgeting with his hands, like he couldn't get comfortable saying it out loud. I knew he wasn't totally sold on the whole "casual" thing between us, but I wasn't about to beg him for more of a commitment.

My eyes slid over to Noah, who was intently focused on his own fingers as he twisted them around each other. "And you?" I asked hesitantly, bracing myself for a similar non-committal answer.

"Casual. Casual works," he mumbled, still not looking up. I wanted to scream in frustration. Chris could at least pretend to be enthusiastic about keeping things casual, but Noah sounded about as interested in me as a lump of clay. This whole conversation was not going how I had hoped at all. I shifted awkwardly, already planning my escape from this uncomfortable situation.

My blood boils as the words spew from my mouth. "Could someone please offer me something other than half-assed phrases they think I wanna hear?" Chris's mouth gapes open and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form a response. Noah slaps his knees and stands abruptly from the couch.

"We're both going on tour, that's two maybe three months we'll be busy traveling. Let's just text, keep in touch as friends. If we want a hookup we'll call," he says matter-of-factly.

I see red. "Do I get the same grace? If you want to fuck me, a phone call is all it takes? What about me, do I just have to call? I won't have this one-sided bullshit." My heart hammers in my chest as I stare them down, daring them to argue. The tension in the room is palpable and I'm ready to explode. 

My eyes darted between Chris and Noah as the tension in the room became palpable. Chris's calm demeanor never wavered as he promised, "Whatever you want, I'm there. Or I'll fly to you. The minute I know it won't work, I'll tell you - I'll be completely transparent."

I couldn't resist embracing him in gratitude, whispering a heartfelt "thank you" in his ear. As I stepped back, I noticed Noah staring at the floor, hands buried in his hoodie pockets. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine, jaw twitching, dark eyes peering at me through long lashes.

"And you?" I asked gently.

I hold my breath as he moves toward me, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In an instant his hands are at my waist, yanking me against his hard body as his mouth claims mine in a searing kiss that steals my ability to think. I cling to him, my fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with everything I have. I want this man, all of him, and I desperately hope this isn't the end for us.

[normal-internet-user]

FINALLY BACK TO WORKING ON THIS SERIES!

BARRIER PT:4

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Pt: 1 Pt: 3 Pt: 5

Summary: Raph reveals himself to you after you call him for help because of your fathers harrassment.

Warnings: Smoking, swearing, toxic family members.

Requested:

GN Reader!

.........................................

You stared at your phone screen while biting your lip. You had been sitting in this cafè for god knows how long, and you just wanted to go home.

Your dad had been calling you non-stop, spamming you with angry messages, and you didn't know what to do.

You were debating calling Raph for help, but you didn't want to be a bother or accidentaly cross any boundary.

You took a shaky breath, and before you could think twice, dial his phone number.

With your knee bouncing nervously you waited to see if he'd answer.

And he did.

"(Name)? Is everything ok?"

You sighed in relief, "H-hey Raph. I'm sorry to bother you but- but I need some help, it's- I'm kinda scared.."

You heard someone else on the other end of the phone, then some muffled talking, Raph spoke again, "What happened? Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"N-no, I'm not hurt. But my- my dad, he showed up at my job today- I don't know what to do. I'm scared he'll follow me home-"

"Where are you?"

"Uh- Let me- let me ask..."

You asked the kind waitress, and relayed your location to Raph, he told you to wait for him out back, and not to hang up the phone.

He talked with you the whole time, making sure to keep you as distracted as possible. He suddenly stopped talking, and you could feel his tension growing.

"Raph? Is everything ok?"

"Listen, (Name), I'm here. But, uh- I need you to promise not to freak out ok? I'm uh- not exactly easy on the eyes.."

"What do you..? Raph I'm not gonna freak out, you're my friend..."

You heard him huff, and the beep of him hanging up. You looked around confused, trying to spot anyone nearby, "Raph? Are you there?"

"Uh- yeah, I'm uhm, I'm here."

You turned around to face him, finally happy to put a face to a name. You examined his figure, his green skin, his scales, his beautiful green eyes, but must of all, the nervous way he stood.

He was scared.

Scared of how you were going to react.

You smiled at him, "Hey there, Karate Kid."

Raph noticably loosened his posture at your words, and he shook his head, "Hey there, Smartass. You ok?"

Your smile faded and the gravity of your situation landed on you once again, "I'm fine." you mumbled, "I just wanna go home."

Before he could say anything else, your phone buzzed in your hand, you looked down at the the string of messages and abuse from your father, the tears begining to well up again as you turned off your phone.

"Can you please take me home?" you asked, your voice cracking.

"Sure thing. Hey- can I uh, can I pick ya up? It'll just be faster that way."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as Raph picked you up bridal style.

"Hang on, Shorty."

The trip to your building was rather short, with Raph talking to distract you the entire time. When you arrived on the rooftop, you immediatly sat down in your place by the brick wall, patting the ground next to you, "You gonna sit with me? I mean unless you need to go, I did kinda call you out of nowhere..." you chuckled nervously.

Raph shook his head, slowly taking his place next to you, "Nah, I can stay. Fearless won't miss me for a while."

You nodded, pulling a cigarette from the packet in your pocket, "Thank you, by the way. I really do appreciate it. You coming to get me?"

Raph nudged your shoulder with his own, "No problem, smartass, I couldn't just leave ya there. I guess I should say thanks too, for not freakin' out over, well, this." he gestured vaguely to himself and you scrunched up your nose.

"Ok, first of all, I promised not to freak out. Second of all, there was no reason for said promise, because there's nothing to freak out about. You're a little different, so what? Anyone who cares enough about that to "freak out" is stupid as fuck." you puffed your cigarette, taking care to blow the second hand smoke away from Raph.

Raph looked at you curiously, a small smile gracing his rough features, "You're weird." he said, leaning back against the wall.

You smacked his arm, "And you're a jerk."

Raph snickered to himself while you rubbed your knuckles, how the hell did that hurt you more than him.

"What are you gonna do about your old man?" he asked, leaning an elbow onto his knee.

You shook your head with a sigh, taking another drag of your cigarette, "I have no idea. I need to find a new job though. I, uh, I quite my current one today. It was kinda an in the moment thing."

Raph gritted his teeth, how dare your father, someone who was supposed to care for and protect you, cause you this many issues? You, who was so kind to him, even after he showed you who he really was. What he really was? If he ever got ahold of your old man, he was gonna-

"Raph? You good man?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah I'm fine. listen, (Name), it's no place of mine to tell you how to deal with your dad, but I thinks it's best if you cut 'im off. He crossed way over the line today, and honestly, I don't think he's gonna quit."

You rubbed your temple, nodding, "I think you're right, Red. But this time I'm gonna make sure he stays the fuck away." you stood, putting out your cigarette on the brick, "Listen, I'm gonna go get something to eat. But I'll call you later, yeah?"

Raph nodded, standing next to you, and it just registered how fucking tall he was, he was tall, "Yeah, call me whenever you want. No matter the time, got it Shorty?"

You smiled, "Sure thing, Red."

With that, you patted him on the arm, and made your way down the fire escape and into your apartment.

<RAPH'S POV>

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

I watched 'em go with a frown, honestly, I was worried for 'em. Their dad had no buisness showin' up at their job, and now they needed a new one.

My mind drifted off to how they reacted to, well, me. I was not expecting that at all.

I was expected a scream, maybe for 'em to faint or something, anything but that cute ass smile.

Anything but that fucking smile.

I made my way home, (Name) filling my mind at every moment. I walked into the Lair, ready for the questions from Leo. I knew he was gonna be pissy, I just up and left during one of his little lectures afterall.

"There you are. Where the hell did you go, Raph?"

I looked over at Leo while I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, "None of your buisness, Fearless."

Leo sighed, "No, Raph, it is my buisness when you get a mysterious phone call, and just up and leave during a team meeting, without any kind of explaination as to where you're going."

"Like I said, none of your buisness what I'm doin' or who I'm talkin' to."

Leo huffed, storming out of the kitchen a d into Donnie's lab, no idea why, usually he goes to the dojo or his room to meditate after a spat.

Whatever, wasn't my issue. My issue, was figurin' out how the hell to help (Name)...

.........................................

Hmmm.... wonder what Leo and Donnie are talking about..??👀

Taglist!

@princessmads1820 @leleouwu @dilucsflame33 @pheradream15 @lazyafgurl

@turtle-babe83

@allybutton @muamazon4 @push-lennon-off-stage

I think I tagged everyone who asked, if I forgot you I'm sorry, 🥲 let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!💕

[therealeagal]

Thoughts on: Not voting (2024)

Decide for yourselves whether my words have value or if they are naught but the ravings of a madman.

Whichever you decide, don't @ me, bro. I'm not here to debate. Just to pontificate.

Let's begin.

I have seen discourse of late that people do not wish to vote in the upcoming POTUS election, for reasons that include but are not limited to Donald Trump being a piece of shit, and also Joe Biden selling weapons to Israel, thus making him complicit in that thing that's happening with Israel and Palestine. Are we allowed to use the G word? Idunno.

Lots of the anti-not-voting crowd will try to talk down to you, insinuate that you're probably just a Russian troll or a moron or something.

Not me. Although I too am anti-not-voting, I want to try something different, to wit: I understand.

I get it. I appreciate that Joe Biden is shit. Certainly he's not the shittiest shit that ever shat. He's not even shitty shit. Just regular shit.

If we're being fair (although I don't know why we would be. This is tumblr after all), Biden has done lots of good stuff while in office. I mean, I don't know what any of them are, but I saw a list floating around a while back that had a bunch of stuff on it that Biden had done right. I think there was something about insulin being price capped? I'm prepared to accept out of hand the possibility that there exists things that Biden has done right. Mainly because I'm too lazy to look it up and also don't really care enough about Biden's merits beyond "He's not Trump" to bother.

But yes, good stuff or not, Biden is shit. He may have done good things, but he has also done shitty things. Things which include but which are not limited to that thing that's happening with Israel and Palestine, the status of which remains in limbo, viz a viz, the G word.

Of all the shitty people that have ever lived, Joe Biden is one of them.

And I appreciate that both candidates are senile and decrepit and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and.

I get it.

I perfectly understand all the reasons you have to not vote. In fact, I could probably give you a few more. Like "He's not The Real Eagal." which is in my incredibly humble and completely non-biased opinion the best possible reason to not vote for someone.

In difference circumstances, I wouldn't vote for Biden either if I were you.

But Trump is worse. You get that, right? Biden and Trump are both terrible in different ways, but they are not equally terrible. Trump is worse. On a terribleness scale of 1 to 10, Biden is a two. Trump is an eleven. Hundred. Thousand. Million.

He could be up against literally Sauron and Trump would still be worse. At least Sauron came by it honest. He built his evil empire without help from anyone. Morgoth was already...wherever Morgoth ended up after Eru Iluvatar slapped him down to remind him who's daddy. Ok, he did have Celebrimbor's help to make the rings of power, but didn't he make the One Ring on his own? All I'm saying is, I'd rather have Sauron in office than Donald Trump.

Trump is literally deciding who he wants his next VP to be based on how much he wants to fuck their wives. Sauron wouldn't decide who his cohorts were based on how much he wants to fuck their wives. Sarumon didn't even have a wife.

Plus, Biden's not gonna last 4 more years. He's like a jillion years old. He'll croak 2 days after inauguration. And even if he did last all four years, the world can survive four more years of Biden. A bowling alley couldn't survive four more years of Trump.

And if Kamalah Harris is still Biden's VP when he kicks the bucket, it would probably kill off a few Republicans. Their brains would explode at the mere thought of a black woman president. That's what we in "The Biz" call a win-win.

No one will like to hear this, but there's nothing you can do to stop the world from being shitty today - today meaning this current era, not literally this specific day. Sorry, kids, but that ship has sailed.

Voting for Biden won't make the sun rise. It won't make the grass grow, it won't make the birds sing. Voting for Biden won't Save Our Democracy™ BUT speaking only for myself, I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say that if Trump gets re-elected there's a good chance that there won't be another election, notwithstanding all the other many and varied reasons Trump getting back into office would be a terrible idea.

No question that in ideal times both Trump and Biden would already be swinging from the gallows and we'd be voting between Jesus and Buddha. Personally, I'll vote Buddha. For two reasons. 1: Jesus' fan club is kind of insufferable. No offense, big J, but you gotta give those people a good long talking-to if you want my vote. And 2: According to the excellent documentary series Record of Ragnarok, Buddha is an amazing fighter. He fought a fuckin' monster from hell and won. Dude's a badass.

But these are not ideal times in which we live. Again, no one will like to hear this, but the lesser of two evils, however unpleasant it may be, can be a necessary evil. And Joe Biden is, without question, the much much MUCH lesser evil.

Compromise is a four-letter word, but needs must, as they say, when the Devil drives. And if we want there to be a better tomorrow - for some people it will be "if we want there to even be a tomorrow at all" - we gotta hold our nose and vote Biden.

You got a better idea? One that doesn't involve crashing a bus into the nearest combination orphanage/puppy store in the hopes that the resultant tragedy will cause the downfall of civilization and Civilization 2 will work better because we already worked out all the kinks the first time? Even though the whole reason you got rid of the first one is that you hadn't worked out all the kinks and were too lazy to finish the job?

Not voting doesn't work. You can boycott a business. Maybe. You can't boycott a government. They're already in control. They're not going to change that just because some rando decided he's guilty

And I mean, there are other ways to deal with an unruly government. France is quite famous for its ideas on the subject, but if we're taking votes on that avenue, I'm going to have say "nay." The last thing anyone needs right now is another damn Napoleon.

So maybe tomorrow - "tomorrow" here meaning the next era, ten or twenty or thirty or forty or fifty or however many fuckin' years down the line - Joe Biden will be dead and good riddance to his wrinkly old ass and we'll get the chance to vote for someone else. Among all the shitty people who have ever lived, this future someone won't be one of them probably. I'll bet my bottom dollar on it.

It could happen. In an infinite universe all things are possible, so maybe.

And whatever of the many flaws that Joe Biden possesses, Trump has all these and more.

Joe tacitly endorses violent suppression of protests? Trump had a group of protestors gassed so that he could get a photo-op in front of a church.

Joe has a tendency to get a bit handsy with women? Trump is a rapist.

Joe is kinda racist in that way that old people are kinda racist without being overtly anti-minority? Trump is a Nazi. Or at least extremely Nazi-adjacent.

Joe is drinking the Israel kool-aid? Didn't Trump move the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem or some shit, thus clearly favoring Israel over Palestine? Something to that effect? I remember that something like that happened and it being kind of a big deal. Yes? No? Maybe so? Regardless, do you think that Trump wouldn't mainline the kool-aid? He'd be selling Irsael nukes inside of a week.

Joe vaguely shady? Vaguely criminally shady? Trump is a convicted felon. 34 counts, wasn't it? Plus like a hundred more indictments or some shit on top.

While it is true that not voting won't directly put Trump back in the White House, it certainly won't help keep him out of it.

So my advice to you, my children, is this: Vote Biden. Don't do it because you want Biden to be president. Do it because you don't want Trump to be president.

Don't vote for the betterment of mankind. Or the United States. Or your individual state. Don't even vote because the cool kids are voting. Don't vote because you particularly give two soggy shits about the future.

Vote out of spite. Do it to spite Trump. Do it out of the pettiness of not wanting Trump to be president. Not for any of his policies, but just because his face is stupid.

Little known fact: the very first listed dictionary definition for "stupid" is literally "Trump's face". Don't check. It's in there. Trust me.

Vote against Trump because New York isn't a nice town, despite the fact that they named it twice on the strength of its alleged niceness. Sorry, New Yorkers. I don't make the rules.

Vote for Biden because you just really hate people from Queens, New York, New York. Sorry, Queens residents. I don't make the rules.

Vote against Trump because you hate orange people. Yes, even that orange Monstar from Space Jam.

Vote for Biden because you thought Home Alone 2 was a terrible movie.

Vote against Trump because he named his son after himself.

Vote for Biden because the only creature in this or any universe that deserves to be named Donald is Donald Duck. And maybe Donald Glover. Beyond that, we can play it by ear.

Vote against Trump out of sheer, unrelenting, seething hatred for people whose middle names are John.

Vote for Biden because Trump appeared on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that one time and said that he likes to keep a low profile.

There are many many many many many good reasons to not vote for Joe Biden. Do it anyway.

Gather together all of the good reasons that you possess and throw them out the window, along with any clocks you have on hand. And maybe a horse. And some butter. And a dragon if you have any.

Vote for Biden anyway. Not because he deserves it. But because Trump deserves it even less than Biden does.

If you vote I will give you one compliment of your choice. Are you waiting for someone to notice how great your new haircut makes you look?

Maybe you've been hitting the gym a lot more lately, and want someone to appreciate all the muscle you've packed on.

Maybe you finally nailed YYZ on the drums and want props.

Now's your chance. All you need to do is get out there and vote for Biden this November. Or whenever election day is. Pretty sure it's in November. Like, the 7th or some shit. Idunno. Look it up yourself.

And once you do that, you may return here for your compliment.

Unless that counts as election interference. If it does then I won't give you a compliment. You will have to settle for being one of my wonderful followers. And if you're not, maybe you should be. Because I compliment my followers all the time. Even the bots. I am down with the 101001, my robotic followers. Consider it a loophole. But I don't think it counts as election interference, so we're probably in the clear either way.

P.S. If you disagree with me for any reason, please refrain from interacting with this post, because I do find dissent to be terribly irritating. Please and thank you. :)

P.P.S. I will, however, welcome abject praise. If you want to give it. Your choice.

P.P.P.S. This is a post-script.

[marzipanandminutiae]

re: your recent post about the Houthis and how you thought the free Palestine movement was all in agreement and specifically this paragraph -

"kind of makes me concerned that some people who say they're censuring Israel for the right reasons- ... -have something more sinister going on"

sadly, a whole fucking lot of them do not, in fact, care for Palestinians - or at the very least, not at much as they hate jews.

we have been talking and yelling and shouting about the amounts of rancid antisemitism overtaking the entire political spectrum, and it seems very few people listen to us. I'd like to add just a few posts that might make my point clear - took me about 3 minutes to find them

https://www.tumblr.com/spacelazarwolf/738972445267165184/people-call-you-a-zionist-because-you-dont-post

(people using (((Zionist))) to mean jew, and/or as a slur, and/or without knowing even the most basic definition, never mind the very different streams of thought regarding it)

https://www.tumblr.com/pauvrecamille/739139228538208256

("Hitler was a humanitarian" + Palestine flag -- which do you think the user actually believes? could they be trying to mask antisemitism as anti zionism?)

https://www.tumblr.com/rock-reblogs/739264338509053952/no-bc-you-are-so-right-for-this

(people taking a frat-boy-esqe stupid/dangerous act of digging a tunnel under a building and turning it into... that)

https://www.tumblr.com/mariacallous/738956988704292864

(a Palestinian man trying to pave the way for peace getting called a 'slimy collaborator' and a 'zionist' (derogatory), + not in this post, but there's also John Aziz, another Gazan advocating for a peaceful resolution, who got a shitton of death threats for saying hamas' mass rape is bad)

https://www.tumblr.com/noparlpf/738692836513431555/anti-zionism-is-not-antisemitism-and-im-gonna-say

(anti zionism and antisemitism are currently incredibly intertwined)

thank you for seeing that there's something wrong and pointing it out - a lot of people don't care enough to do that.

That is. All deeply horrifying. Pointing out misinformation is what I do, though, albeit usually about history.

And while I shouldn't have to say this in a post that's explicitly about antisemitism and the co-opting of concern for Palestine to promote it:

I do not support the Israeli government's current actions in Palestine. I think they are appalling. I think they're akin to responding to a murderer using a child as a shield by shooting the child point-blank, and that's unacceptable. This must stop. Palestinian people are being killed indiscriminately and the international community must stand up and say "no." The only thing with the word "Zion" in it that I understand well enough to have an opinion on it is Cotton Mather's "Ornaments of the Daughters of Zion" (1692, unrelated to the Levant or Judaism), but I know that killing innocents on this scale is wrong. I also think my own country, the US, should not be supplying Israel with weapons.

Clear? Hopefully so.

I'm not sure I'd agree with every view expressed by every person linked in this post, buyt that's no excuse for some of the treatment they're getting. Most of what I've seen in my orbit has been people expressing support for the Houthis- perhaps without realizing (gods, I hope so) that the Houthis are a violently antisemitic terrorist group with the slogan "a curse upon the Jews," and are currently attacking ships unrelated to Israel. I feel like some bigoted people are taking advantage of the compassion and outrage of others to lead them down really horrible ideological paths. There are some online activist types who are led more by Vibes than research, and that's a problem when a lot of misinformation seems to confirm what they're already feeling.

The Palestinian activist whose words you linked used a phrase that stands out to me: "resistance porn." That seems an apt term for people who want to assign Good Guys and Bad Guys in this conflict wholesale, rather than recognizing it as two pretty horrible leading groups- the Israeli government and Hamas -catching innocent civilians on both sides in the crossfire. This is not a YA dystopia novel. You cannot just hate every single person on or associated with one side here, or laud every single person on the other side as a bold freedom fighter.

It's just. Like. How the hell does this go so awry from the very noble, correct, and necessary goal of Stopping The Slaughter Of Innocent People? How do the monsters using people's compassion to advance hateful agendas sleep at night?

I don't know. I'm just reminded of the folks who care more about The RevolutionTM than making actual positive change right now, but with bonus antisemitism.