#Best place to buy power tools

[hpalloy]

Hammer tools online

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[lexalovesbooks]

Also I love love loooove that the very first scene of book one is relos var and khaemezra in a bidding war for kihrin while he rapidly alternates back and forth between which of them is going to be less terrible for his life if they win because man if that isn’t a fantastic summary of the series as a whole.

[madamemachikonew]

Hello, if you don't mind me asking, how do you think Pantalone would feel about his partner receiving a Vision?

HMMMMM.

Your mouth is agape as you look at the sparkling vision in your palm, its cold virgin glossy surface shining like crystal. Your stomach is in knots, your heart a mess of complicated feelings; what should be the happiest and most exciting day of your life is muffled in a shroud of abject dread. The trinket weighs heavily in your palm, like a tainted heart in the scales of Anubis.  

How will you be able to break the news to him?

The glowing core represented everything that he despised in the world; the recognition that had eluded him for all of his life. In spite of all of his efforts and ambition. And yet, it had tumbled, seemingly effortlessly and unbidden, into your hand of all places.

As you falteringly break the news to him, staring down at your empty hands, wringing them with shame, he forces a diplomatic smile that does not reach his eyes. The two of you are now different. And a fissure has now cracked through your relationship – one which threatens to bring down the whole edifice. Until now, the balance of power had always been in his favour. But now you hold something that his whole lifetime of wealth cannot buy.

His smile unwavering, he shakes his head in the face of your promises that you won’t use it – you won’t even wear it.

“I’m happy for you,” he says mechanically, rubbing your cheek with a gloved thumb, “You deserve it.”

Rising to his feet, he presses a strong, paternal palm to your head in congratulation - or perhaps reassurance – before planting a light kiss and then leaving, retreating to his study.

He replays the conversation in his mind. It seemed that your well-intended words had wounded him deeply. You had left the Vision in your room lest the sight hurt his feelings in some way. And yet, part of him wanted to know how such divine craftsmanship felt to hold and look at. Your pleading protestations with apologetic wide eyes that you had never actively sought such a thing and had no idea why a Vision would suddenly turn up only rubbed salt into his grieved heart; They had chosen you nonetheless, even when you had had no apparent desire to. And now you have more power than you know what to do with. It seemed almost malicious on their part to toss a trinket so close to his feet.

So why not him?

As much as he loves you, your achievements, though respectable, are quite simply not on the same scale as his own. Who could possibly be his equal? It was squandered on you. No! No, he doesn’t mean that and you must never know that such a jealous thought has crossed his mind in anger, even if you would understand and be sympathetic to his rage. Your merits are what he admires and loves. It is the very fact that you are not ordinary that attracts him to you. So why does his heart feel torn with thorns that the contemptible gods he abhors so much have bestowed this gift on you?

And what sort of deep-seated ambition have you harbouring that They had felt worthy of recognition?

That you have been holding in your heart in secret all this time.

He knows, deep down, that it was not a deliberate action on your part and that if anything, you’d give him your gift in a heartbeat. Or give it back if you could. And yet, a bitter taste fills his mouth at the idea that in spite of your best intentions, he will no doubt watch you grow increasingly at ease with wielding it, to the point that it will never leave your side.

He knows that he should be happy for you.

So why does he feel so utterly betrayed and resentful?

As the rational thoughts vie for his attention in the maelstrom of envy swirling inside, he thinks that perhaps your newfound talent could be of use to him somehow; knowing your unselfish nature, he knows you would feel too guilty not to share it. But it is not quite the same as wielding such a tool of his own, as meaningless as he keeps trying to convince himself that it is. All those times you had resolved together to go to war with Celestia now feel desperately hollow. Had you even meant it?

Perhaps the sting will dull with time, as well as the guilt for feeling this way. But for now, he will allow himself to wallow for the evening.

It’s not that he hates you.

It’s not that he isn’t proud of you or feels that you were somehow undeserving of this honour.

Just…why couldn’t it have been him?

[writers-potion]

Healing

Most religions have a form of healing magic - it may be called "faith healing" and "miracle".

Some healing magic is subtle, strengthening he body's own immune defences so it can fight off infections, cancer cells and hormonal imbalances. In such cases, this might not be considered magic by others.

Dramatic, sudden healings attract a lot of attention and will run into many ethical dilemmas:

What if the magician is kept in captivity to keep the king young, forever?

What if the magician is forced to heal armies that are doing terrible things?

What if the magician only heals those in power/ who can afford to pay them?

In modern society, it is possible for the line between healing magic and life science to be blurred. Magic might simply amplify existing medicines, or provide luck to surgens who are performing a particularly tricky operation.

Protection

Many people seek magical protection, and hire magicians to provide it.

A farmer might seek to protect his crops

A mother might seek to protect her offspring

A courtesan seeks protection from her lover's wives

A soldier who seek protection from attacks.

Methods through which it may be achieved:

Using an amulet, necklace, or other tools that must be carried

A mark or tattoo for protection

A circle or physical barrier surrounding the client

A blessing that wears off with time

A protection spell that can be memorized and used only once.

Talismans and Amulets

Talisman and amulets give magical enegy to the people who wear them. They are two different objects, so it's best not to get them mixed up if your story has both. The follow categorization is fluid:

An amulet gives general help, while a talisman serves one specific purpose.

An amulet keeps harm away, while a talisman empowers the wearer.

An amulet is motly secular, while a talisman typically contains divine/angelic/spiritual energy

An amulet usually works for whoever that wears it, while a talisman is custom made for one user.

An amulet deflects negative energies, while a talisman attracts positive ones.

They are generally small objects that can be worn or carried. They have symbols on them which charges them with magical power.

In ancient societies, amulets and talismans were big business, with magician earning large sums by making and recharging them.

Guarding Against Harmful Magic

Using magic to harm or kill others is generally frowned upon. However, the magician may accept the job of hexing or cursing someone, given that they are paid well.

Hexes and curses

A hex is worked in cold blood, unemotionally. A curse involves intense emotions.

A hex lasts for a given period, then wear off. A curse may last a lifetime or even generations.

A hex is usually secular, while a curse often has a religious element (placed by or on behalf of a deity)

A hex is usually Low Magic while a curse may be High Magic

A hex is always worked by a magician while a cuse can sometimes be worked by a non-magician

A hex can affet an object or a person, a curse almost always affects a person.

Hexes tend to cause great nuisance, while curses bring long-term devastating harm.

Protection against magical attacks

The afflicted person may seek to undo the hex or spell, often at a high cost (even life)

Rituals may either aim to deflect other magical attacks, get rid of the attack, or send the spell back to the sender.

Sometimes, placing a curse or hex has a consequence to the caster, and this will deter a magician from doing it in the first place.

The client may pay to lessen the impact of a curse or seek drugs to ease their pain under it.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[astra-ravana]

Bones In Magick And Divination

The long-standing tradition of using skulls and bones in magick dates back ages, yet it is a topic often overlooked in modern witchcraft, leaving many unsure of how to incorporate them. There are many excellent ways to use these mystical objects and their potent energy within your craft.

Some Ethics:

• Never harm an animal simply to obtain its bones for magickal purposes.

• It's best to find bones in nature or buy them from a trustworthy supplier.

• Remember to pay respect to the animal whose bones you are using.

Archetypal Energy

Because bones contain DNA they are not only spiritually, but biologically connected to the animal they came from and all its ancestors. This makes bones powerful totems and talismans that embody the qualities of that animal. This is important to consider when wearing bones or using them as vessels and guardians.

The House Skull

Bones and skulls carry a lot of protective energy. One traditional use for a skull was that of a house guardian. These skulls are usually given a place of prominence in the home and often adorned, painted or decorated. A ritual can be performed to invite the spirit of the animal back to use the skull as a vessel. A binding sigil can be used for this as well as to tie the spirit/skull to you and your home. Skulls are commonly stained red or black to embue them with more protective power.

Crafting

Bones and skulls can be used in creating magickal tools and crafts as well. Long bones and antlers make unique and powerful wands. Skulls can be mounted or hung. Smaller bones can be used to make things like witches ladders and chimes. They make powerful jewelry pieces and charms.

Bones In Spellwork

There are many applications for bones in spellwork including spirit/deity work, necromancy, and ancestral work. They carry the general correspondences of protection, healing, strength, stability, growth, life, and death. Bones are also used in baneful workings and binding. They can be used much like crystals. Each type of bone carries its own magickal properties and can be utilized in rituals, offerings, and as a component in spell jars/bags or poppets. They can be ground into bone powder for general purposes or burnt to bone ash for darker workings.

Bone Correspondences:

• Skull- Thoughts, power, divination, spirit, truth, higher realms

• Teeth- Communication, destruction, control

• Spine- Stability, strength, confidence energy

• Rib- Agility, shielding, abundance, vitality

• Arm- Harmony, balance, duality, physical interaction

• Hand/fingers- Skill, creativity, accuracy, progress

• Wrist/ankle- Flexibility, connection, fluidity

• Leg- Edurance, momentum, travel, change

• Foot/toe- Speed, stealth, balance, luck, prosperity

• Shoulder/hip- Structure, permanence, support, rest

• Tail- Secrecy, sudden events, change in luck, accidents/mishaps

• Claws/nails- Conflict, damage, persistence, defense

• Horns/antlers- Penetration, protection, determination, destruction, harm, nature(can represent The Horned God)

Throwing The Bones

Bones have have been used as a medium for divination for centuries, by many different people and belief systems. Today, it is unfortunately a dying art. It is still practiced sporadically, however and is referred to as osteomancy or curiomancy. Some practitioners choose to use only bones, while others include a variety of things in their kit. Some suggestions include:

• Charms

• Shells

• Coins

• Keepsakes

• Stones

• Toys/figures

• Items from nature

• Found objects

Once you have your items gathered, set to the task of assigning meaning to each bone/object. What feelings does it elicit for you? What does it make you think of? Write down your meanings in a grimoire or designated book. Find a bag or pouch to hold your 'bones'.

To cast your bones simply "shuffle" them around in the bag with your fingers, similar to shuffling a deck of tarot cards. Once you or the person being read are content with their thought/question, grab whatever is within your palm and cast them in a circular motion. For smaller kits, you may cast all your objects at once and use their location to interpret the message. Some read the bones in a spiral, while others use quadrants, rings, or even complex maps/spreads. You can use a cloth with a circle drawn on it or any symbols/design you feel appropriate. Each spread, style, and kit will be unique to its creator.

[qqueenofhades]

As someone whose country went through a brutal dictatorship, we still see the bleeding wounds it's left- even 50 years later. The idea of not exercising the right to vote is absolutely unthinkable to most citizens. Granted, voting is obligatory, but everyone I know does it voluntarily and enthusiastically. The discourse I hear around it in the US evidences a narrow perspective, which is so upsetting to see, especially within leftist spaces.

The right to vote is something every citizen must, sadly, defend. Most Latin American countries know all too well what happens when fascism and treason disguised as conservatism take centre stage. I hope it won't be too late when the people peddling anti voting crap to younger generations realise the harm it causes.

All around the world, the reason fascist authoritarian dictatorships of whatever ideology stay in power is precisely either because citizens aren't allowed to vote, the vote is outrageously rigged (think of the 99% margins routinely racked up in places like Russia and Venezuela) or they rely on repressing the vote through intentionally disheartening liberal, left-wing, progressive, or other similarly oriented voters, who often do much of the work themselves with constant internal attacks and purity tests and adopting the rhetoric of anti-voting propaganda in the name of purity. Despite all their populist claims to enact a monolithic Will of the People, all these anti-democratic authoritarian movements are terrified of a genuinely representative popular vote and will do anything to stop it, because it turns out that if you give them the choice, people anywhere in the world don't super like being repressed, extorted, and terrorized in the name of Ideology, and will give your tiresome fascist ass Das Boot.

In the American context, the Republicans have gone full masks-off illiberal authoritarianism and they desperately hate the idea of people voting, which is why they have filed endless lawsuits, passed endless restrictive laws, disenfranchised even their own voters, shrieked election fraud, and everything else to try to jerry-rig their position as extremist minority oligarchic rulers for life. Which is why it is befuddling, to say the least, to see people insist that voting doesn't work, it doesn't matter that much, it isn't an effective tool against fascism, it's Morally Wrong, or all the other idiot "justifications" they come up with. All you have to do is look at how fucking terrified the bad guys are of a minimally equitable electoral system (such as getting rid of the Electoral College, which would pretty much ensure a Republican never won the presidency again if it had to be selected by -- gasp! -- an actual nationwide popular vote). That's why I don't even buy into the "voting sucks and is the bare minimum" rhetoric that gets peddled as a sort of tempting carrot to get the recalcitrants to do it -- don't worry, you can still post your mean tweets about Biden and that totally is more effective! Voting is A BIG DEAL. Voting works. Americans don't realize this because they are lucky enough to never have lived in a country where it wasn't available to be taken for granted and therefore scoffed off.

Voting, having the right to vote, and the large-scale ability that it confers to change the structures of society, is a MASSIVELY powerful tool that has largely not been available to most people throughout history (and is still unavailable to a large chunk of the world today). That's why there were bitter and protracted battles to get women and African Americans the right to vote in America. That is why the GOP still particularly targets those voters today, because the simple act of exercising your civic franchise in your best interests (and therefore not in the MAGA TrumpCult's interests) is so terrifying to them. If it was meaningless, none of this would matter. But it does.

Here, Imma make it real easy for you. If you have any reason to think your voter registration is lapsed, inactive, or nonexistent, if you have recently moved and don't know your status or your polling place or whether you get a mail ballot or whether your evil DeSantis governor has recently taken you off the rolls, or if you have never done it before, or if you want to do one basic thing to oppose fascism today, click this simple link. Do it.

[prahacat]

theory on the fluidity of minds and souls

The first three acts of Asajj’s life. A how-to on finding yourself. Experimental prose, 1k words | Read on ao3

How to be a Jedi

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) Child, he says, don’t cry. Here on Rattatak, we are Jedi the best we can. Here’s how to be a temple to each other: brush the red dust from your face before you go to sleep. Brush the dust from his face too. Share the dirty water without flinching, like trusting him comes natural and easy to you. Teach him what to eat, cook for him stews of insects and herbs and if he won’t eat those, tell him you’re sorry, this is all you have. This is all anyone has. Sit and guard the fire while he sleeps; trust him to guard you while you do the same. When you move up north, don’t light a fire at night so the warlords won’t spot you.

(3) Learn to be kind.

(4) When they kill him

don’t rage

don’t rage

grieve

but don’t rage, don’t let it consume you

How to be a Sith

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) All men are liars. So are the women, so is everyone, but the men are more dangerous to you, especially the older ones. Never let him know (he knows anyway). Forget. Never look back. Don’t cry when he throws lightning at you; when you’re alone again, press your fingers against your temples to relieve the headache. Make the silence your friend. Ask questions, but don’t ask too many or the wrong ones; his anger will teach you which are the wrong ones. Watch out for his anger, but learn to watch out for his sharp-edged smiles too. If he offers you food or a weapon, take it; if he gives you a name, hunt them down. If he offers you a glass of wine, sit and drink and look for the lesson: which tool is he trying to shape you into? A blade, a shadow, a shield, a smoke bomb? Be grateful for what you have because he is offering you more power than he offered anyone else, because he thinks you can take the lessons and not fail, the way so many others did.

So this is how you will live: be wary of cups you haven’t filled yourself. Hide daggers everywhere: in your boots, under the folded cloak you use as a makeshift pillow, in your dreams. Keep the holoproj next to your bedroll, make sure it’s always charged, make sure it’s never muted. Here’s a list of essential things you need to have at hand at all times: spare energy cores for your saber, medpacs and bactaspray, stimcaf and sleeptabs, protein wafers in an osmosis pack in case you can’t swallow anything. It’s better not to stare at the stars for too long when you’re traveling. Navigation is all they’re good for. Be grateful for what you have. It’s really all you need: a place for the pain to go and a place to come home to. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same place, and if one day you should catch him pressing his fingers against his temples, pretend you didn’t see. Go skewer some boys instead. There’s that Jedi again: flirt, tease, smile at him with your dewberry-colored lips and painted eyes, so he knows you want to be here, you enjoy what you are. And if you suspect or know that he too has a list of essential things, and that his list is the same as yours, the same as everyone’s these days, don’t let on.

(3) Never forget to hate yourself.

(4) Don’t fall for the blade, it’s not your friend; it will take away everything you own. It’s very simple. He won’t protect you. You can’t protect them. Always expect betrayal; always expect loss.

And when that day comes

—it will inevitably come—

remember your grief and how it was a dull, useless knife to you.

How to be a ???

How to figure out what who you are

(1) Stay alone.

(2) Boil the water before you use it for soup. Strain it and collect the pulp, the gritty dark things you don’t know how to name. Everything tastes like ashes and dust, that’s all you know. Buy some soap and scrub your hands. If you wake with a start in the middle of the night, pressure crushing your chest and your breathing quick and ragged in the quiet of your room, remember to inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Lie still and watch the darkness shed from the light. In the morning, roam the markets, buy something against the headache, something to hide your face, something to scrub your hands. When you walk through the streets, pull your hood low. Tell the spice dealers to leave you alone, always stop after one glass of whiskey, tell the men at the corner to fuck off. There will be days when you wake in unfamiliar places; at least try not to have two of them in a row if you can help it. Watch the sunrise. Tell no-one about your past (they know anyway; probably). Always expect betrayal, always expect loss. Forget. Never look back.

(3) Learn to be kind again.

(4) Get some credits, buy a saber; any saber you can find, as long as it’s still alive. Hold it in your hand, gently, feel the worn hilt that has passed through other hands. Were they cruel? Were they kind? Maybe. Did they protect, did they kill? Who knows. It doesn’t matter to you.

Here’s what you need to do to make this saber yours:

calibrate the focusing ring, install a strong core, toss away the parts you don’t need, polish the metal often, swing the saber daily, trust your hand again, close your eyes, listen, be patient, feel how your crystal talks to you, feel it resonate, feel it hum, learn a new language.

Yellow is a good color.

It’s going to take a long time.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Reality Check

Prompt By @ironicreality

Yet another “Adrien loses the ring” deconstruction. This time I’m tackling about a certain criticism about how Chat’s supposedly so incompetent that he could be easily replaced.

But the thing is whenever the plot doesn’t need to nerf him, Chat Noir’s actually the most solid fighter on the team. And that’s discounting how casually Ladybug uses him to stall Akumas as her most reliable and expendable tool.

Trying to replace someone like that might just be harder than handing over the ring to the boy she likes.

—

It starts at a Saltfic cliché so common it might as well be Lila being a bitch:

Ladybug decides she’s had enough of Chat Noir and demands the ring. Since it’s season four and Adrien’s too depressed to even bother resisting, so he just hands it over and walks away.

Fortunately for Ladybug, she’s already part way through a Salt-fic like “realization” about Adrien and her class, so she doesn’t really care about her former crush anymore. Instead she goes to Luka and gives him the ring instead since she’s sure that Luka will be a great fit for the ring! And so Chat Noir retires from the team, and Adrien leaves the miraculous behind permanently.

With his friendship with Ladybug long eroded, there was nothing else really keeping him going as a hero besides Plagg and a sense of duty. And both of those have been relieved from him.

But things don’t go as expected. Adrien for whatever faults he might have had was an excellent fighter, being *impossibly* athletic in his civilian form and having trained in fencing and martial arts at his parents command for years. A prodigy trained by the best tutors that money could buy. And that base of skills was something that he’d brought to the table as the Black Cat, something that Marinette having only seen Chat Noir (and very briefly herself, and not against a foe where she was actually tested) wield the ring failed to appreciate. So while things go fine at first with the Glaciators and Giant Babies Shadowmoth loves to reuse, the first time Shadowmoth stops fucking around and brings his Akuma A-game…

Luka gets more or less instantly destroyed in his first fight as a front line figher against a genuinely dangerous Akuma.

Marinette gets very confused. The same happens again and again. Every time Shadowmoth brings out an actually capable threat, the novice Black Cat can’t keep up. Forget leaving him to hold the line against the Akuma, he can barely *survive* with her help. It’s not really Luka’s fault even. He’s inexperienced with Plagg’s powers and doesn’t have a near-decade of martial arts training and athletics to draw upon, but Ladybug doesn’t realize that’s a factor yet. So she concludes that it “it’s just a compatibility thing” and swaps Luka back to the snake.

She goes hunting for her next Cat.

Adrien meanwhile has moped, mourned and accepted his situation. And now? Now he’s moved on cold turkey, everything about Ladybug and the Miraculous have been cleaned from his room and computer. It took a good bit of introspection, but he’s accepted that his feelings for Ladybug were an infatuation with someone that doesn’t exist anymore and probably didn’t in the first place. But his situation isn’t the same as before he wore the ring. He’s allowed out of the house now, he can have social contact and friends as Adrien. He’s still restricted in ways that no normal boy would be, but he has freedom that he’s left by the wayside to be Chat Noir instead of fully using and enjoying it as Adrien.

Well. Chat Noir’s dead now.

So Adrien finally gets to explore and live up to his potential in his personal life. His already impressive grades improve, he resumes some of his extra-circulars that he’s actually liked (Kagami won’t be beating *him* in fencing any more) and he gets to spend time with his school friends again.

At least as much as they can, ironically enough it seems like Nino and a lot of the others have other commitments now…

Meanwhile on Ladybug’s side, things aren’t going well. She’s tried replacement after replacement, but so far there’s no one who even comes close to matching Chat Noir’s old skill and strength. Sure, Chat had problems, but it’s become obvious that he wasn’t just an ordinary holder. But finally, Marinette realises where she might have gone wrong. And she has a holder in mind, someone with an uncannily similar background to Adrien…

She chooses Kagami.

Sure, Kagami isn’t always available thanks to her commitments and Loong won’t be happy about loosing his holder, but at this point Ladybug has to run around with a full team more or less constantly to make up for the lack of a capable Black Cat so only having to do that half the time is an improvement, and she can work without a Dragon if she has to a lot easier than without a Black Cat.

And finally, *finally* it works.

Kagami is just as fierce and formidable as Adrien had been, if less spontaneous, experienced and far less affectionate. There’s still a skill gap too, but that can be taken care of with time…

But there’s still just a few *minor* problems.

Firstly, Kagami and Plagg *do not* get along. The Kwami was already sour from getting passed around, but his and Kagami’s personalities mesh like oil and water.

And then there’s the way that Kagami just… *didn’t* respect her authority like Chat or any of her previous cats did. Or at least that’s how Marinette perceives it, in reality Kagami is simply far more likely to push back against Marinette’s plans, to oppose unnecessary sacrifices and *insists* on being treated with respect. It might not have been much of a problem when Kagami was rarely-used temp hero, but with her on call as much as possible and having to serve in the multi role bodyguard/tool/lone solider role the Black Cat was used for…

Well, things are different now. And Kagami *does not* take being needlessly sacrificed and disrespected like Adrien who had already been trained for compliance by his parents before he’d even touched the ring.

Ladybug is having to learn very quickly that there was *plenty* she took for granted with Chat Noir, and that really she was far from a great partner herself.

As for Adrien? Well it would be a lie to say that there weren’t things that he missed from being Chat Noir. But the price of those things was too high in the end, and things were better all round now weren’t they?

Everyone in Paris seemed to think that Ladybug was right to dispose of Chat Noir, even if it took a while for her to get a decent replacement. So it’s not like he’d had the city’s appreciation to lose. His personal life as Adrien had finally improved by leaps and bounds now that he could fully devote himself to it for the first time. Sure, the loss of (what had once been) his friendships with Ladybug and Plagg still stung, but he was working on getting new friends. He’d even started expanding his friend groups to more people than just Dupont. and with the new Black Cat finally picking up the slack there were no problems to really fear with Shadowmoth.

But while he’d made his peace with being a normal civilian, it seemed like there was one parting gift left from his time as superhero.

For one day he just happened to be hiding from the paparazzi, and by pure chance he came to an alley where Ladybug and the New Black Cat were arguing. He hides away quickly to avoid having to confront his former friend and his replacement, but he’s still close enough to overhear the argument.

Ladybug had apparently tried to leave the New Cat in the middle of a battle to go get another hero from somewhere else. The New Cat however had *refused* to just be left on her own against a team of Akuma, and had instead retreated because- as the New Cat bluntly tells Ladybug- even if *she could be brought back*, the Akuma team could take the ring from her corpse. A corpse that would be there because Ladybug’s orders would *get the New Cat killed for nothing*.

And Ladybug… has no counter for that. She instead sighs and admits that she made a mistake- and to Adrien’s surprise the New Cat doesn’t just accept the apology; she instead calls out Ladybug for having done this before, especially with her predecessors. And again, to Adrien’s utter shock Ladybug has to admit fault, this time with how she treated the past cats. And as the two continue talking, as Ladybug has to verbalize that she was wrong in how she *used* her past cats: something tight and painful in his chest that Adrien had accepted as normal finally releases.

[hpalloy]

Three Types of Toolboxes Ready to Offer Assistanceance

In the world of tool management, maintaining an organized array of equipment is critical. For entrepreneurs in the tool trade or hobbyists dedicated to DIY projects, the acquisition of diverse implements from HP Alloy Steels & Mill Store is unavoidable. However, the constant issue emerges when these instruments slip our grasp, either via misplacement or disarray, resulting in the loss of valuable time and effort when it is most needed.

For those relying on Hand tool kits Mohali, ensuring a systematic approach to storage and retrieval becomes paramount. Whether it's for professional use or personal projects, the efficiency gained from a well-maintained inventory can significantly enhance productivity.

To alleviate such hassles and increase efficiency, the purchase of appropriate tool storage solutions becomes critical. Enter the varied world of toolboxes, each with a distinct feature adapted to specific needs and preferences. Exploring the subtleties of these crucial containers reveals a plethora of possibilities, allowing individuals to make informed decisions that correspond with their organizational needs.

1. Exploring the Diverse Array of Toolboxes: A Comprehensive Guide

In the world of professional craftsmanship and home maintenance, there are numerous toolboxes on the market, each adapted to certain needs and tastes, with unique styles and functionality. We'll look at each category in detail, providing light on their distinct characteristics and applications.

Hand-carry toolboxes: They are highly portable and easy to travel between locations. The toolboxes are popular amongst an array of different experts in a variety of sectors due to their lightweight design, which makes them easily portable. Hand-carry arsenals come in a variety of sizes that range from modest to commercial, making them versatile enough to fit easily into garage areas or snugly beneath workbenches. Internally, they include deliberately designed compartments that enable for precise organization and arrangement of instruments, increasing productivity and accessibility during tasks.

Portable Rolling Toolboxes:

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2. Investigating Different Materials for Crafting Toolboxes

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Benefits

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Wooden Toolboxes: A Comparative Analysis

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Conclusion:

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[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

So, uhm.

Who’s Borusa? Whats his deal with Rassilon?

Who is Borusa?

Borusa was a high-ranking and influential Time Lord on Gallifrey, having served as a tutor to the Doctor (and others like the Master and Romana) and held important positions such as Cardinal, Chancellor, and eventually Lord President. He was a staunch traditionalist and an authority figure who valued power, stability, and Gallifrey's traditions.

🎓 Borusa as the Doctor's Mentor

Back when the Doctor was a young scallywag at the Academy, Borusa was the strict teacher trying to keep him in line. He was all about tradition, rules, and Gallifreyan superiority. He wasn't a fan of the Doctor's rebellious nature and often gave him a hard time (even when the Doctor saved Gallifrey from the Master, Borusa only gave him a 'nine out of ten' for it).

💼 Borusa's Ambition and Fall

Though Borusa started out as a respected leader, his ambition ultimately led him down a dangerous path. Obsessed with Gallifreyan tradition and convinced that he alone should rule Gallifrey forever, Borusa sought immortality. He orchestrated a massive plot involving the Doctor's past selves, believing that gaining eternal life from Rassilon would solidify his rule.

Unfortunately for him, it was all a trap. Instead of ruling Gallifrey for eternity, Borusa was imprisoned as a statue in Rassilon's tomb—stuck in stone but still with a consciousness, which is quite possibly the most disturbing thing that's ever happened, like, ever, in anything, and I'm still having nightmares about it.

💥Final Chapter

The story doesn't end there, though. During the Last Great Time War, Rassilon freed Borusa from his stone prison, though had no intention of giving Borusa his freedom—he needed him as a tool for his own schemes. Borusa's mind and body were constantly regenerated to predict the best outcomes in the war, suffering through countless transformations. He was eventually freed from this misery by the War Doctor.

Funnily enough, Borusa, who had once sought immortality for personal glory, finally found peace in death—choosing to sacrifice himself.

🏫So ...

Borusa started out as a strict, by-the-book leader and mentor, but his ambition drove him to seek ultimate power, which led to his downfall. He was eventually tricked by Rassilon and trapped in eternal imprisonment as a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked ambition.

Related:

💬|👤👑Why is Rassilon everywhere?: Who Rassilon is and why he’s so important.

💬|👤🔥Who/What is Lord Burner?: Looking at the entirely fictional role of the entirely fictional Lord Burner.

💬|👤💂Who is Commander Maxil?: Looking at Gallifrey’s resident jobsworth.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[storm-angel989]

OH MY GOSH! My req is a part 2 of https://www.tumblr.com/storm-angel989/761370788298424320/could-you-do-a-valentinos-daughter-where-shes?source=share ! I LOVE ALL OF YOUR WORK BTW!

Hi friend,

I actually got this request twice! Consider this in response to this anon request as well:

“can we see a part two of Valentino’s daughter being addicted to drugs? Maybe he confronts her, has Angel dust tell her his about his own addiction to them from his time as human?”

Like I said the first time around, I lost my best friend to addiction and this subject can be a little tough. That being said I do hope y’all find comfort in this story- it was sort of cathartic to write. 

<3 Mandy 

Valentino had watched thousands of sinners and hellborn suffer through withdrawal. The shakes. The sweating. The sickness. The agonizing pain as every molecule of their body screamed for the very thing that threatened to kill it. He knew it well. Hell, addiction is what sent him down here, what sealed his role as eternal provider of highs and releases. The difference now was power- power that he gained as desperate souls offered anything worth having just for the promise of relief. Despite his sordid past, he took pride in providing his family with a lavish lifestyle while watching others wither away to nothing. 

As Valentino knelt next to his daughter, his hands carefully weaving her damp hair into a braid, the pang of guilt flooded through him for the first time. The thought that his career had led his daughter to suffer such pain was unbearable. For the first time in his afterlife, Valentino felt his control slipping. Despite his initial demand and Vox and Velvette’s agreement that she go to a treatment center, he instead decided to keep her home and allow her to detox under his watchful eye. It wasn’t like they were not equipped. His studio boosted a better medical office than most hospitals, and a doctor on staff twenty four seven. At least under his eye, he could be sure she was controlled. That she was safe. 

“Daddy, make it stop,” she begged. “Please.”

“I’m sorry baby, it has to work its way out of your system,” he replied softly. 

She groaned and laid down on the towel that covered the bathroom tile. He sat down next to her and gently stroked her hair. He hated seeing her like this, seeing her suffer through pain that previously didn’t phase him. With each passing second, he had to bite back flashes of his own former life. Of his own death, wrapped in the endless cycle of poverty and addiction. 

During her intake meeting, the doctor had suggested sharing with her his own battles. The story of his death. He refused on principle, despite Vox and Velvette’s encouragement. He needed to protect his daughter from that knowledge, from that former reality.  As he helped his daughter back to her bed, he wondered if there were others in his grasp willing to share their story. As he considered those who knew of her existence, his thoughts fell to one being. 

Angel Dust. 

“You sure you want me to share? It’s kinda gritty, Val,” Angel said as he lounged on the couch in Valentino’s office. 

“None of us gets a second chance down here,” Valentino replied coolly. “And I’m hopeful your story will scare her straight.”

“Val, I’m willin to try. But she’s gonna need more than a story to get her straightened out,” Angel replied. “I mean like, doctors and stuff.”

“She’s already down the hall, enrolled in every therapy the doctor suggested. Right now she’s going through detox,” Valentino responded sharply. “Angel, she’ll have every tool money can buy. But she needs to know what would happen…” he hesitated. “What would happen if those resources weren’t available. If they were taken away.”

“I mean, alright Val, if you think it's best. It’s your kid,” Angel answered with a shrug. “You wanna do this now?”

“Yeah. Follow me.”

Standing next to her bed, listening to Angel recount his past wasn’t a place Valentino ever expected to be. The grittiness of the conversation should have turned his stomach, but instead he focused on her. On her reactions.

“Roaches. Imagine, Reader, wakin up in some town you don’t know covered in a thousand little legs…”

“Okay! That’s enough, Angel, please. I get it,” she pleaded. “Daddy!”

Every inch of him wanted to pull Angel from where he sat and escort him from the room. To wrap his daughter in his arms and assure her that he would do everything in his power to make sure she never had that experience. But the bigger part of him knew she needed to be afraid. Knew she needed to think that Angel’s reality could be hers if she didn’t fight this battle. 

“Angel, continue,” Valentino said after a momentary pause. “She needs to hear this. Whether she likes it or not.”

[cinnamontails-ff]

Writing Interview Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @roguishcat ❤ I love getting to chat about these things.

When did you start writing?

I know this sounds cheesy, but the answer is probably as soon as I could hold a pen. My grandma still has stacks of little stories I wrote (and illustrated ...) when I was a kid. Very cute, but I'm glad I gave up on drawing in the meantime.

I've been writing on and off ever since, but it wasn't until I was in my mid twenties that I decided I'd actively pursue a career in writing. I wrote a few original novels, none of which were ever successful in the world of traditional publishing, then got into fanfiction as a way of rekindling my joy. Once I'm done with my current fic, I'm ready to try with traditional publishing again. Maybe it'll work this time, maybe not, but I guess the bottom line is that I'll always write in some capacity.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really like stories that are a little unsettling. Not horror, per se (I'm a coward), but those underlying creepy vibes, especially when they come wrapped up in beautiful language and actually end up culminating in something cool toward the end of the story. "Uprooted" by Naomi Novik comes to mind, "The Devil and the Dark Water" by Stuart Turton, and "Portrait of the Pale Elf" by @larvasmoon.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Terry Pratchett is the person who first sold me on the English language. Prior to his books, I'd never seen anyone use English in such a fun, cheeky yet poignant way, and it's definitely something I find myself emulating (all while hopefully putting my own spin on it). I have been compared to him a few times and it's always made my day.

Oh, and I guess Stephen Sommers because people compare my fic to "The Mummy" a lot. Which honestly, is just as flattering.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

At my desk, with a mechanical keyboard. Not because I'm a hipster but because I have absolutely destroyed my laptop's keyboard and then the shop where I'd buy the replacement keys stopped selling my model and I refuse to replace the whole laptop.

I need a sense of quiet when I write. Usually, I write early in the morning before I go to work, and it's honestly my favorite time of the day. It's dark and quiet, I'm all alone, and the day still feels so fresh and full of possibility. I cannot write in public; I find it too distracting. Occasionally, when I'm very in the zone, I'll edit at work but it's never quite as productive.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Go and hunt that bitch down. I know many people love romanticizing their craft and if it helps them to light scented candles or play aesthetic playlists - go for it! For me, the most powerful tool is routine. Knowing that every morning I will sit down and I will write, whether I feel like it or not. Sometimes I drag my feet the whole time, sometimes things click into place and suddenly, I'm having the best time ever. But I will always put words on the page and for me, there's no better feeling than having written (past tense).

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

You probably know this, but I really, really love stories where a regular guy/gal saves the day. It makes me so happy to see the evil vampire lord taken out by the mousy accountant, the fountain pen striking harder than the sword. I think it's because I like to read about real people. People that you could have met in real life, that seem simple on the outside, but have all this strength locked up inside. It's why I dislike stories with picture perfect beauty goddesses that always have the perfect quip, always take out their opponents with 1 blow because they're just that special.

Normal people are special, too. You just need to look a little harder to see.

What is your reason for writing?

I believe it was Brandon Sanderson who said "Stories are like real life but with the boring parts removed". That has really resonated with me. I think the beautiful thing about stories is that they can portray very real issues and conflicts in a way that is infinitely more satisfying because it's all been arranged just so. It can give you closure, it can make you see something in an entirely new light without feeling confrontational. It's like a really, really good conversation with the author and I hope that's what my writing feels like as well.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Two things. I love when readers point out specific lines they enjoyed and I love it when they tell me they reread my work. The term "comfort read" makes me particularly happy because that's exactly how I reread my favorite stories as well.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I think the most important part to me is that my stories feel real. I dislike pretentious, over-the-top writing where you can tell the author is trying super hard to sound clever or sexy or just drowns you in heaps of cheap, undeserved drama that never leads anywhere. With my stories, I want things to feel earned. Natural. Maybe you wouldn't have made those choices, but it makes sense that these characters would have and now we're looking at the very real consequences of their actions.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character voice, specifically in 3rd person limited. My favorite type of narration because I love getting into a character's head and making you see things through their eyes.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think every writer struggles with their confidence here and there. I've gone through so many cycles in the past 1.5 years, it's kind of crazy. Going from constant failure in the world of publishing to writing your very first fanfiction just for fun and then having it blow up out of nowhere, all these people showering you in praise, only for the vast majority of them to disappear immediately afterward is a lot to process. We write for ourselves, yes, but as a writer, you can't help but take reader responses to heart. Fortunately, I've never let it influence what I write or how I write; it really only affects my mental state. I know what I like to read and those are the stories I am going to tell, whether they're successful or not.

Aww, this was fun! Tagging @larvasmoon @davenswitcher @pickel182 @karinamay @pouroverpaloma ❤ ❤ ❤

[maverickscorner]

Faber suae fortunae

Or Maider's love story towards freedom.

Chapter 10

Tenax watched Maider write, captivated.

Although he was mostly illiterate, and secretly very ashamed of it, he understood that it wasn’t the Latin alphabet.

-What language is that?

-Aramaic- Maider replied. -It was the language I used to speak with my father and my adoptive family. It’s easier to communicate with them this way.

-And also more discreet- Tenax observed.

She smiled at him.

-Not that I’m revealing any great secrets. I’m just telling them that I’m well and safe. That I’m free, in short.

-Got it. And in how many languages do you know to read and write?

-Four, but I’m fluent only in Aramaic and Latin. The others… let’s say I get by.

-That’s still quite a number.

-Yeah. You’re looking at a girl who received an aristocratic education.

Tenax chuckled.

-The best one around.

-You can bet on it.

Maider finished writing. She had noticed how Tenax was watching her, interested, and had guessed that he didn’t know how to read or write. Although they had grown quite close, she still didn’t feel ready to explore parts of him that Tenax preferred to keep hidden. She wanted to discover every side of him, but in due time. She, with her impulsive character, would force herself to be extremely patient with him. She cared for him. Tenax deserved it.

Maider let the ink dry. Then she rolled up the parchment, tied it with a string, and handed it to Tenax.

-The destination is the Ben-Hur house in Jerusalem, on Temple Street.

-Alright. We’ll head to the market soon; we’ll meet Porthos there.

Maider looked surprised.

-The market? Isn’t today a holiday?

Tenax realized he had made a mistake. He was used to making decisions without considering anyone or anything. But now there was Maider, and he cared about her. Maider had a decision-making power, a voice, and even the ability to change his decisions.

"Way too much power, but I can’t do anything about it".

-Yes, you’re right. But at Nundinae, in the heart of Rome, there’s also the most important market of the city. People from all over the empire come to sell everything: from food to tools to clothes...

-Hold on, did you say clothes?

Tenax stopped. He nodded.

-Yes, clothes. There are…

Maider’s eyes lit up. Tenax couldn’t even finish the sentence before she burst out like a flood:

-Oh, please, let’s absolutely go! I’ve saved up some money from working at the tavern, and I’d really love to buy a new dress! Claudia was so kind to lend me her old ones, but in Jerusalem I had a whole wardrobe of my own, and here I only have two or three used dresses, and... Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but...

Tenax stood up, walked around the table, and stood beside her, gently placing his hands on her cheeks.

-Maider?

-Yes?- she said, captivated.

-I understand, it’s all fine. We’ll go buy some new clothes. You don’t need to overwhelm me with words every time. I care about you. I like seeing you happy. Alright?

She nodded. She hugged him gratefully.

-Thank you, Tenax. I like seeing you happy too, for the record.

Tenax pulled back a little to meet her gaze. They kissed.

-When I’m with you, I get pretty close to it- he confessed -But at the market, we’ll need to be very discreet. No one knows you’re free, nor that there’s something between us. I’m a very... controversial figure, sometimes despised. I care too much about you to let someone hurt you because of me.

-It won’t happen- Maider said -We’ll be discreet. I’ll be discreet. We’ll pretend I’m still your property.

-So be it. Go get changed, then. We’re leaving in ten minutes.

-Alright, my lord and master...- she said, bowing to him with a wink.

Tenax blushed but hid it, watching her slip out of his embrace and head towards her room.

He shook his head.

"You’ll be my undoing".

And he couldn’t be happier about it.

***

The Nundinae market was truly immense.

Maider was immediately captivated, bouncing from one stall to another with enthusiasm. The vendors, charmed by her exuberance, offered her samples of various foods or let her feel how soft the fabric of dresses was or how smooth the metal surface of various tools was.

Tenax watched her with a smile he couldn’t erase, even though he knew it would be more convenient to do so.

He only stopped smiling when he saw people on the street recognizing Maider.

-Hey, look, it’s Maider!

-Yeah, it’s her!

-It's the girl with the most beautiful voice in Rome!

-The one who sings at Tenax’s tavern!

Tenax sighed. Maider’s popularity was growing visibly. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep her chained to him, but he cared about her and worried for her. The word “fame” didn’t necessarily align with “safety.” He had seen it with Scorpus and with himself.

He saw Maider approaching him with her usual smile, and his mind lightened immediately.

-Tenax! That stall has some beautiful pans. You have to come see them; I’m sure Claudia would love them!

-Oh, yes!- said Claudia, joining them with shopping bags in hand. -Claudia would absolutely love them!

Tenax rolled his eyes. He took a small pouch of sesterces from his belt and handed it to the women.

-Alright. Just don’t spend it all, okay?

Claudia and Maider struggled to contain their excitement and, arm in arm, headed for the stall.

***

In the center of the market, there was a square with several stalls dedicated to food. People drank and ate while seated at wooden tables. In one corner, a small group was playing rhythmic music.

Before Tenax could stop her, Maider recognized Reilo among the group and ran to him.

-Reilo!- she exclaimed.

The young man smiled at her from afar and waved. The two greeted each other warmly. Tenax stayed at a distance, keeping an eye on the situation. From time to time, someone would acknowledge him, bowing their head and murmuring "Aedile Ludi". He responded with a polite nod, but nothing more. He had already given Maider’s letter to Porthos, asking for the utmost discretion.

The group stopped playing; Reilo and Maider spoke with the other musicians, discussing something unknown to Tenax. He grew nervous.

“I've never known a girl more stubborn than you, Maider...” he thought. He had told her to be careful, and she...

-Good morning, citizens of Rome!- Tenax heard her saying from the musicians’ platform -How about having a little fun?

Everyone turned towards her. Many recognized her and applauded.

Maider counted to four, then the group started playing a particularly rhythmic tune. She clapped her hands, and the crowd followed. Many stood up.

Maider began to sing.

-My baby wants a tunic, she’s been asking me all night long...!

Tenax’s eyes widened. He looked around as the song continued. People started dancing.

-One, here comes the two to the three to the four...!

Tenax scanned the area. The praetorians at the edges of the square watched the crowd without concern, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally glancing at Maider. Tenax clenched his fists.

-Everybody at the bar getting tipsy!

The crowd was having the time of their lives. People danced together, happy and carefree, to the infectious rhythm of the music. This was Maider’s magic.

Tenax relaxed his muscles, trying to enjoy the moment. He was probably worrying too much, but he would have to talk to Maider seriously after the performance. He always became incredibly nervous when he couldn't keep the situation under control, and it was time to tell her, because sometimes, perhaps due to the carefree nature of her personality, she acted quite wild.

And yet, he couldn't be too angry with her for it. He cared about her mostly because she was different.

Even though her difference, in a city like Rome, could be very dangerous.

***

Further back, on the opposite side of the square, a group of Jewish slaves watched Maider with disgust.

-It’s her- one of them said -The girl from the Hur household who now performs for these damn Romans.

-Another woman of our people prostituting herself for the favor of the oppressors- the eldest said.

-And worse, she sings and plays songs from our folk tradition, but translates them into Latin!

-What should we do, then?- asked another.

The old man seemed to think for a moment.

-She must be eliminated- he said -Or God will pour His wrath upon us.

The other men nodded, and the group withdrew into the shadows.

***

Hi everyone! It's Eli. Things are starting to happen! Hope you like this new chapter. Let me know in the comments what you think. Hugs and kisses ❤️

P.S. This is the songs Maider sings ☺️

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/23/22

three months unemployed YAY. also wherein i get SUPER pressed about star wars lore

listening

funeral by tele novella. popped open tiktok to see something my best friend sent me and this was there, the first thing on the for you page. let's yoink a description of their previous album from an interview i'm going to quote at length in a bit: "The result was “exactly what we wanted it to be,” a perfumed mist of jingling, jangling, lilting, off-center pop—a strange little snowglobe gathering dust at the back of the shelf."

the lyrics did hit me like a train bc i often find myself mourning places and situations that were not necessarily good for me but were familiar.

Oh, you're not tied up Here comes the train The tracks feel safe because you know 'em

if you had told me this was made in about 2007-2009ish i would have believed you. very spare production in the way folksier songs of the time were spare. a bit raspy and direct in her delivery. there's a bandcamp interview wherein i found out this is the side project of a vintage/antiques dealer and she has a fascinating perspective on her own music:

Her passion for the craft is evident—in our conversation as much as in listening to the band—but music, for her, is a means to an end, a way to transmit stories. “As a musician, I’m mediocre at best,” Ribbons says matter-of-factly. “I think that my talent lies in my storytelling ability. I think that I’m a good storyteller.” It’s something instilled in her by her grandparents, “voracious readers” who were always buying her books and secretly wanted Ribbons to be a writer, she suspects.

i really adored this whole album as a cohesive work. "vampire cowgirl" is another standout for obvious reasons.

You came barrelin' down Rabid with some talk Of a gal who rides at night Picking off the stock

remarkably good at reproducing the general vibe of the midcentury cowboy western album, when tv cowboys were sweeping the nation

-

reading

T. Kingfisher's Nettle & Bone. enjoyed it, but not quite as much as her other stuff. whereas her other series are almost always comical and often stray into farce, this one was a bit grim. even with the addition of a demonic chicken. had to stop and really think about if my own experience with funerals and funerary rites (too many, too often) was coloring this for me but i think it is simply not as funny or interested in being funny as her other works. not a ding against it, but not what i was really expecting or in the mood for. image from tor, let's yoink the description from macmillan

This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him. Marra — a shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter — is relieved not to be married off for the sake of her parents’ throne. Her older sister wasn’t so fortunate though, and her royal husband is as abusive as he is powerful. From the safety of the convent, Marra wonders who will come to her sister’s rescue and put a stop to this. But after years of watching their families and kingdoms pretend all is well, Marra realizes if any hero is coming, it will have to be Marra herself. If Marra can complete three impossible tasks, a witch will grant her the tools she needs. But, as is the way in stories of princes and the impossible, these tasks are only the beginning of Marra’s strange and enchanting journey to save her sister and topple a throne.

paywalled article, sorry, but i personally have a bone to pick with fanduel due to [REDACTED INCIDENTS] from [PREVIOUS JOB] so it does not surprise me in the slightest that they don't really seem to be doing a single fucking thing about money-laundering. allegedly.

-

watching

the bad batch, or the 13/16 episodes of the third and final season that are out. all these images are from comicbookreview bc i watched this on my actual television

one of the plots i hate most is the trying to get someone back plot. for example, i think finding nemo does this really well bc it's also a coming of age/parenting movie. i do not think the second finding nemo movie does this well bc as soon as one person is reunited with the group, through a wacky series of coincidences they lose another member. plus that movie is part of the downturn of modern pixar where they forgot how to tell interesting stories but that's neither here nor there. the bad batch falls into the finding nemo 2 category. it's simply frustrating to watch. it turns into a desperate floundering after whoever happens to be missing instead of using a The Searchers style plot to say something about the act of the search itself. i realize i am once again saying "what if star wars was good" but like. come on.

the bad batch s3 is surprisingly focused on retroactively filling in the backstory of how and why palpatine got cloned with his force powers intact, which is apparently a difficult technical problem. i would have cared about this if this show came out before the last movie and we had a cool breadcrumb style approach leading up to the movie. unfortunately that movie (and the sequel trilogy more broadly) killed a lot of my interest in modern star wars. anyway, this cloning problem leads to a lot of very technical conversations in a children's' show that are interesting to me, a grownup, bc no star wars media has ever successfully explained 1) what midichlorians actually are and 2) the biological processes by which they operate but refuse to be cloned? which is extremely funny to me bc midicholrians aren't supposed to be real. qui-gon has that whole little speech and blood test in the phantom menace but the series had So scrupulously stayed away from explaining how the force works before that. they still fail to explain it but they at least attempt to break two inches of new ground. side note this show gives us TWO canon trans girl clones and i really wish they were in a better show.

it's annoying that i'm annoyed about a children's show meant to sell toys. some fun things: the pyke syndicate shows up, a slew of my favorite bounty hunters show up, this show is much better at painterly backgrounds and has an overall more concept-art feel than the clone wars proper or rebels. i think it would be cool if they stopped whitewashing the clones. i'm going to finish out the season but i don't exactly have a lot going on in my life right now. i am not terribly sad that this is the final season but BOY do they have a lot of loose ends to wrap up in three episodes.

-

playing

new genshin update on uhhh thursday and it's kind of exciting bc i THINK it will finally fill in this hole on the map and the associated shorelines of three different countries!

i thought i had long since found all the chests in liyue (the second area released) but in the process of doing a recently released character quest set in liyue i found another chest. this game is very good at hidden objectives and little secrets but i wish it was better at letting you know when you have Actually cleared an area completely of all the little hidden stuff. anyway i have been holding back the last character hangout (ningguang, my best beloved ruthless girlboss business high femme) for a terrible day and that day came! unfortunately hanging out with the fake pretend video game lesbian did make me feel better!

also unfortunately i fucked up and cannot count so the gacha pity system (every 90 pulls you're guaranteed a 5-star character) gave me Neuvillette. who i don't hate but i wasn't really planning on pulling for. i do like his questline and his voice actor, he simply doesn't fit in super well with a mono-electro team bc i play this game like an insane woman.

the real bitch of the thing keeping me from upgrading him is going out in the overworld and collecting enough sea stars. why can't he need flowers or little gears or anything else i have a thousand of.

anyway this gal will be dropping sometime in the next six weeks and i AM extremely excited to pull for her. she has some cool abilities (GUN) and is part of a popular pair with the steampunk lolita character i love and leads my other main team. i hope their abilities play well off each other but she has such a cool storyline and design i don't super care if she fits in with my playstyle. i will adapt for her in a way i am not willing to do with neuvilette

-

making

i am once again obsessed with gallery walls, bc a friend has asked me to find the correct gigantic size frames to put some comics on his wall, and that has given me an excuse to go to thrift stores again.

unfortunately i have mostly found frames for me, and the projects i have been working on have kind of a long tail of when they will actually be on my walls. i picked up four 16x20 frames for $2.50 each (solid wood! remarkably detailed!) bc i eventually want to put up these fallout maps in the style of national parks maps up on the map wall in my office. i suppose this means i should join @ruffledringdove and actually play '76, bc that's the one modern game i haven't played. these are getting scuff sanded with 120 and painted with a eggshell paint sample in a bright white u all know the drill at this point. ive painted a lot of frames in the past few weeks.

left is one of the painted 16x20 map frames, right i have also finally sanded and painted both 12x16 deckle-edged wood frames i picked up off the side of the road in MA. and found glass + backs for them! eventually i will procure fancy mats and print + frame my grandmothers' portraits. they will eventually go on the living room wall, which is a neutrals and blue-greens wall of slightly disdainful women. this will help me swap the three maps in there to the office map wall.

i have also acquired this gigantic plaster-over-wood mirror for $15. i am using leftover rub n buff bc i don't have a great spot to spraypaint here without sheeting my entire front porch, and rub n buff is way less susceptible to 80% humidity than spray paint. also i would have to buy spray paint. i am looking up suspiciously bc i thought there was a bug. not sure what mackie was looking at.

[wishitweresummer]

Now What Do We Use (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

Word count: 4819

((This is from my series Glass House!! Next part is Now Let Me Explain.))

Warning: Restraints and intense tickles! Safeword use. Feet tickling. Tickle tools.

Dream cursed under his breath. He had snooped again. It was an accident like last time, but he still felt a little bad. He stared at the tab he had just clicked out of and analyzed the scenario he was in.

What were the chances George had left this open on his computer specifically for him to find? Pretty high, he decided. He clicked back onto the tab and scanned the contents, forgetting entirely what he had even needed the other boy’s computer for.

It was George’s Amazon wishlist. Dream’s eyes scanned the items. They were…a strange mix of items. At first glance he had assumed a few of them were things George would want to be tickled with, but he huffed in amusement when he realized it was every single thing.

With a few clicks, he shared the wishlist to his own account. He headed back to his own room and sent a quick text to summon Sapnap.

On his own phone, he pulled up the wishlist and moved the entire thing into his shopping cart. He whistled at the total.

“Bougie bitch…”, he whispered.

Amazon Cart 6 Items

Subtotal: $750.01

Sun&Lion V2 Deep Tissue Massage Gun

Natural Eagle Feathers 10-16 inch Turkey Pheasant

PHILIPS Sonicare DiamondClean 9000 Connected Rechargeable Electric Power Toothbrush 2-Pack, Black + White - Bluetooth

Glamzy Baby Massage Oil 100mL with Almond Oil, Aloe Vera, Calendula Oil, and Macadamia

WYNDEL Comb Silicone Hairbrush Shampoo Brush Scalp Massage

RHOS Paddle Hairbrush

“What’s up?”, Sapnap asked from the doorway. Dream grinned and waved him over, tossing him his phone when he got close.

“Gogy let me use his computer but accidentally left open a tab with his Amazon wishlist on it.”, he used air quotes for ‘accidentally’ to make Sapnap grin as he joined him on the bed.

“He’s rich, he can just buy th-whoa! This is almost a thousand dollars with shipping Dream!”, Sapnap laughed and leaned against him as he scrolled through the cart. “Baby oil?”.

“Pretty sure it makes you more ticklish.”.

“What about the hairbrush?”.

“I think for his feet.”, Dream said as he made a scrubbing motion. “Same as the scalp massager thing.”. Sapnap cringed with his entire body at the thought.

“Holy shit.”, he muttered. The idea of either tools being pressed to his own sensitive soles made him shake his head. “George is crazy.”. Dream laughed and nudged him.

“Imagine how he would react if we did it to him.”.

“He’d be so loud.”, Sapnap grinned. “Buy it.”.

“Huh? We can split it.”.

“Buy. It.”, Sapnap shoved him.

“Fine fine.”.

~•~

Two day delivery.

In the meantime, Dream and Sapnap brushed up on their knowledge for a few of the tools they were confused about. Where exactly to put the baby oil. Places they could use the scalp massager. Where the vibrating toothbrushes would work best.

After a loose strategy meeting on a lazy afternoon, they ambushed George.

“What are you doing?!”, he yelled as he fought against the two of them. As always, his strength was nothing compared to them. He shrieked in fear as one of his wrists was captured in a cuff and attached to the top corner of his bed. Instantly, he broke into giggles. “No no please no!”, he begged.

Of course, it fell on deaf ears. In no time, the boy was writhing helplessly in his restraints. In a t-shirt and shorts, but feeling naked. He scrunched his, newly freed, toes in the open air.

“Hush now. We gotcha.”, Sapnap said. George was wracked with nervous giggling as Dream left the room.

“Is it just us?”, he asked in a delirious haze.

“No, idiot. He’s getting your gifts.”.

“Gifts?”.

Dream came back with a big Amazon box. George’s giggles faded away into silence.

“Does that look mean you know what’s in here?”.

“No way.”, he whispered. His cheeks flamed and he squirmed helplessly in their gazes.

“Oh yes, Georgie. We found your Amazon wishlist.”. George was stunned into silence.

~•~

Dream waved the massage gun in the air. George shuddered in his restraints. He had never actually felt the tickle of a massage gun before, but it looked brutal in the videos he saw online.

“Alright so…I think it will work here.”, Dream said as he grabbed George’s knee and pressed the head of the gun into the sensitive muscle of his inner thigh. The boy whimpered. Dream grinned and switched it on.

George’s vision nearly blacked as every nerve in his leg was lit up with an intense pulse of ticklish electricity. The spot the head was pressed into pulsed quickly and his entire leg shook with the force. A stunted yelp slipped from his lips, but his lungs weren’t able to keep up with the force of laughter trying to break out. Nothing had ever tickled this badly. He convulsed silently, completely mindless to the feeling. And then…it stopped.

“Oh, it died?”, Dream asked as he pulled back the gun. George burst into hysterical cackles, the feeling in his leg still making him buzz. Sapnap chuckled and creeped closer to the head of the bed.

“No no!! No way! Fuck! You can’t do that again!! No! That was crazy!! Oh god! Guys, seriously!!”, he blubbered through his laughter. There was no fucking way he would survive that evil thing touching him again.

“Huh? No way! George, this thing was so expensive and you wanted it!”. The boy squeaked in embarrassment, unable to calm down at all.

“Return it!!”. The two laughed at the dramatics. George dropped his head back against the pillow and let the dizzy giggles bubble out of him. Dream plugged the massage gun into the wall and left it charging on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to come back to that later.”. George whined through his giggles.

“Please, I really can’t handle that. You have to listen to me.”, he had a cute little tinge of delirium to his voice.

Sapnap leaned over the side of the bed and popped back up with two long feathers.

“Should we start out soft then?”.

~•~

Soft might have sounded nice, but George truly thought he was going to die. With one delicate feather being flossed through his toes and the other teasing under his shirt sleeve into his armpit, he was shaking with desperate laughter. His nerves sparked under the teasing touch and he squirmed as wildly as he could. It was no use.

“Please please oh god please!”, he babbled through his laughter.

“But Georgie, it’s so soft!”.

He squealed loudly as Sapnap teased it against his ear, flushing in embarrassment at his own reaction.

“Oh, that’s right!! Your ears!!”. Sapnap put his palm on George’s forehead and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Here we go!”. George let out a wail of anguish, then collapsed into high pitched laughter. Dream grinned as he came to a stop and started crawling up George’s body to get a better look.

“Please!!”, he cried. He was shaking at the gentle torture.

“So cute…”, Dream coo’ed. The feather traced around and around the inside of his red ear. He bucked and squeaked, burning with humiliation.

“Fuck you!!”. He tried to shake his head, but it was impossible with Sapnap’s stupid hand clapped over his forehead.

“Oh, Georgie…”, Dream tsked and teased his own feather along the creases of the squirmy boy's neck. He squealed loudly, making the other two giggle. “Wow, your fancy expensive feathers were worth it huh?”.

“Shut…up!!”, he managed through his bubbly laughter.

George’s forehead was released and he jerked his head up, then dropped it back to the pillow with delirious giggles, rubbing his ear against it. The feather was waved teasingly in the air over his clothed chest and tummy before Dream tugged up his shirt to reveal it. He whimpered.

Normally, he was tortured with a rough touch. Mean squeezes and grabs to make him scream. The idea of a feather against his skin had never really scared him, but was interesting enough for him to look at online. He’d never bought it though. He figured it wouldn’t actually do much.

Now…well what the fuck was he thinking? Since the moment one of those dumb feathers traced his skin he hadn’t stopped jumping or shaking for one second. It was a sharp feeling. His sensitive nerves prickled underneath it and he could feel his senses heightening in defense. Not only could he not handle this, but he knew it would make the rest of his night worse.

He squealed when the tip of the feather teased into his bellybutton. He jerked his hips to the side roughly, but a large hand grabbed hold and pressed him to the bed. When he wasn’t able to squirm away from the feeling and it persisted, he threw his head back and burst into squeaky laughter.

“The feathers make him like…a squeaky toy.”, Sapnap noted amusedly. He cried out at the tease, making them both laugh.

“Please!”, he whined out the plea. Sapnap’s feather joined Dream in clumsily trying to shove into his bellybutton and his entire body jolted as he giggled hysterically. The noise was light and frantic.

“I thought soft tickling didn’t work that well on you?”, Sapnap asked. George was gasping through his giggles and shaking his head. “He’s so cute like this.”.

They trailed the feathers all over his body. When teased behind his knees, he squealed every single time. Dream and Sapnap giggled as they took turns poking the feathers under his knees and making him make funny noises.

~•~

“C’mon Georgie let us in!”, Dream giggled as he fought with the wiggling toes.

“Please! Please!”, he cried out frantically as he jerked his feet around and scrunched his toes in defense. Were they trying to kill him?

Suddenly at the same time, Dream and Sapnap both got their vibrating toothbrushes in between the last two toes on both of George’s feet. The sounds he made were incredible. They dropped their jaws in awe as they watched George convulse on the bed. The laughter pouring out of him was unlike anything they had heard before. It was shamelessly loud and desperate.

The vibrating sensation was unfamiliar and startling. No amount of squirming could free him and he felt himself lose his mind to the feeling. The toothbrushes were decidedly evil. They both prodded around curiously between his quivering toes and he screamed in ticklish agony.

“Whoa!”, Sapnap laughed. George thrashed in his restraints and fell into uncontrollable laughter. His body and mind screamed for him to beg for mercy, to beg for them to go one at a time, to beg for them to stop. But, he didn’t.

“Fuck!”, he squeaked out. His face was a pretty shade of crimson.

“These work pretty well, Georgie.”, Dream said with a grin. He quickly touched the head of the vibrating brush to each of George’s toe pads and he let out a stream of high pitched cries and squeaks.

Sapnap turned and started climbing up the bed, waving the still-vibrating toothbrush at George.

“Nonono!!!”.

“Oh, yes.”, he smirked. The vibrating head touched inside George’s little bellybutton and he screeched. “Ooh!!”.

“Get out!!!”, he yelled, then burst into hysterical giggling. Dream peeked around Sapnap’s shoulder.

“Oh he sounds so cute when you do that.”. George squealed and bucked, but Sapnap was relentless in twisting the head around slowly to find the best reactions. He threw his head back into the pillow and bubbly laughter poured out. “He sounds happy!”, Dream exclaimed.

“Well, he is. He’s getting his tickles!”, Sapnap smirked back at Dream while he twisted the head of the toothbrush just right to make George squeal again.

“Shut up!!”, George shrieked, horrified at the words. A panicked burst of squeaky giggles escaped him as he jerked back and forth. “Sapnap!!”.

Dream laughed and leaned around Sapnap, trailing the vibrating head of his own toothbrush up George’s ticklish side. He squealed helplessly. He teased it closer and closer to his armpit and the boy screamed in terror.

“I hate you guys!!”.

“Oh, well that was rude.”, Dream scoffed and dove his toothbrush right into his armpit. Sapnap followed quickly. They both laughed at George’s violent reaction. Silent screams wracked his chest as he bucked and convulsed helplessly. He finally caught a little bit of air and wailed with laughter. It was frantic and beautiful. “Cute…”, Dream murmured.

The two made sure to thoroughly treat every inch of George’s ticklish armpits to the little vibrating heads of their toothbrushes before moving on. The tickles were so intense and focused, it made it hard for George to catch any air to laugh or beg. Mercilessly, they smiled on as he gasped and choked and cried.

Luckily, they knew this was what he truly wanted. As crazy as that might seem to them sometimes.

Eventually, they flicked off the toothbrushes and allowed him a break. George’s body went limp against the bed and flustered giggles broke free. Dream shushed him gently and pet his damp hair. Sapnap almost started to help get rid of the ghost tickles, but thought better of it. He poked the tip of George’s red nose.

“The ghosts are tickle tickle tickling you, huh?”, he teased. George nodded through his delirious giggling. The words were feathery and lined with sugar, sparking excitement across his nerves. Against his will, he squirmed at nothing. Sapnap coo’ed, making everything worse.

“Silly…”, George mumbled between giggles, barely thinking. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

It was so freeing to be known like this. George relaxed into the fluffy feelings and let his bubbly giggles take over. Here, he could be light and dumb and young. Dream wiped his tears away and he closed his eyes, humming. The cold thumbs against his burning hot cheeks felt refreshing.

“Sweet boy.You are silly.”, Dream grinned. George nuzzled up into the hand. Sapnap and Dream looked at each other in surprise. Soft little giggles were sneaking out from between his lips. Sapnap whined.

“He’s being so cute.”, he murmured.

Suddenly, he grabbed hold of both of George’s sides to make him squeal loudly.

“Stop being so cute.”.

“Sap!!!”, he cried and burst into crazed laughter. “No!! Please!!”. Dream laughed and poked into his ribs, making him shriek. “Dream!!”.

“We won’t stop unless you stop being cute!!”. George threw his head back into the pillow and cackled loudly.

Sapnap held up the electric toothbrush and turned it back on, making George scream in terror. They both laughed.

~•~

“Alright, what’s next?”, Dream asked as he got off the bed and stretched. Sapnap dug through the box. They both ignored George’s breathless giggles and whimpers.

“Hairbrush and this super fancy baby oil.”, Sapnap said as he held up the items. George whined loudly. “Oh, you excited?”.

“Shut up.”, George said quietly. He scrunched his toes at the sight of the hairbrush being inspected by Sapnap. He had only ever felt a hairbrush against his foot once before and he had nearly hurt both himself and Dream at how hard he thrashed and screamed. He snuck a look over to the boy in question and then closed his eyes and shoved his face into the pillow at the shit-eating grin he was met with.

“Oh Georgie.”, he coo’ed. “George loves the hairbrush! Wow…we’ve never tried it with the oil though have we? Huh, Georgie? You must be so excited!”.

“Dream, shut up.”, he gritted out, horribly flustered. Dream peeked back and laughed at the nervous toes.

“Stretching out your piggies in preparation?”, Dream asked. George squawked at the words. He laughed and ruffled his hair. George was giggling frantically, unable to calm down. His sweaty hair stuck up everywhere from the ruffling and he tried to squirm away, but failed.

“There’s only one.”, Sapnap added.

“He can only handle one. You use it and I’m going to sit on him so he doesn’t squirm too much and hurt himself.”, Dream said as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled George’s waist facing his legs. George whimpered, giggles finally calming down as the sudden reality of his situation set in. He wiggled his body a little in protest and earned a quick squeeze to his thigh.

“Dream!”, he screeched. His butterflies were never going to go away at this point. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”, he cried desperately.

“Sure you can!”.

“No, it’s going to be too bad!!”, he whined and flopped his head back into the pillow a few times.

Dream and Sapnap froze and stared at each other, waiting for a safeword drop. One of George’s feet was shaking with nervous energy and Sapnap grabbed it to stop it. A flurry of excited squeaky giggles flew from George’s mouth and they both grinned.

“These little feet are already so ticklish! What’s gonna happen when I put the baby oil on George? Huh?”.

“Don’t!!”, he cried. No safeword, though.

“Let’s see what happens without it first.”.

“No! Get away!!”, he screamed. Still, no safeword. Dream and Sapnap nodded at each other; he was fine.

Despite his threat, Sapnap grabbed the baby oil and clicked it open. George yelped at the sound.

“No no no please!!! C’mon!!”. Sapnap coated his hands and started gently massaging the oil into his left foot. Instantly, George burst into frantic giggles.

“Get between his toes too.”, Dream added helpfully. George squealed as Sapnap listened.

“Alright Georgie, are you ready?”.

“No!! Oh fuck oh fuck!!!”, George thrashed as much as he could, but Dream’s weight was on his hips. “Please I can’t take it!!! Sapnap please!!!”, he begged. There was a real edge of panic to his voice. “Don’t do it!!! I’m begging you!!!”.

If anyone else was tickling him, George probably wouldn’t let himself get into that level of franticness knowing it would scare most people into stopping. His two best friends knew better.

Sapnap giggled as he grabbed a hold of the foot and scrubbed the hairbrush against the slippery sole. George screwed his eyes shut and screamed bloody murder. The ticklish feeling was intense and unstoppable. It shot up through his leg and threw his entire body into a squirming panic. Every nerve in his system spiked at the feeling. Before he could suck in a breath to laugh, his lungs were pushing out another scream. It was a desperate and helpless noise. The ticklish feeling was overwhelming. Fresh tears streaked down his hot cheeks as he shook his head uselessly. His lungs burned a little with the force of his screaming and he felt dizzy at the lack of air. Just as he thought he was going to die, Sapnap stopped. George sucked in a large breath of air and exploded with laughter. Dream smirked back at him.

“Wow! That worked really well! Georgie, are you okay?”, Sapnap laughed as he stood up to see George’s face. It was impossibly red and covered in tears. He could only shake his head ‘no’ as his laughter faded into delirious giggling. In Sapnap’s hand, the foot was still twitching from the aftershocks. He teased the brush across the toes and grinned as George let out a choked shriek. “So ticklish!”.

Dream grinned and tilted his head in the direction of George’s right foot. As soon as Sapnap grabbed it George was thrown into a giggly panic again.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!”, he cried through his giggles. He squirmed as much as he could, but it was barely any. Sapnap had left the cap on the baby oil open so George had no warning before it was suddenly being massaged into his sensitive foot and the surprise made him yelp. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

“You have to be the most dramatic person on this planet!”, Dream said, amusedly.

“Do you wanna try this?!”, George asked, voice pitching strangely as he spoke through his giggling.

“No fucking way.”, Dream shook his head quickly. He looked over and laughed when he noticed Sapnap subconsciously responding with a head shaken ‘no’ as well. This would be way too intense for either of them. Maybe if he was prepared and ready, and definitely not restrained, he would give it a try. But, right now after the display George had just put on? No shot. He’s pretty certain it would kill him. He could almost feel the prickly tingles of ghost tickles along his soles just thinking about it.

George’s piercing scream broke him out of his thoughts. Sapnap scrubbed at the captured foot and grinned as the boy seemingly lost his mind.

This was something George was getting to experience more and more as Dream and Sapnap learned to put their mercy to the side for him. His brain switched off and he gave into his instincts, just screaming and crying. The ticklish feeling was maddening. The sensations were quick and startling, shooting through his body and making him squirm like a live wire. His foot flexed and twitched and trembled as Sapnap held it in place for his torment. He was helpless to it, to them. Just…tickles. It tickled. It tickled horribly.

A tortured scream tore through his body, sounding desperate enough to make Sapnap stop. It was unexpected, making him cry out with a shrill pathetic noise.

“Are you okay?”, Dream was asking somewhere above him. George opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. The room was bright. The question was confusing for some reason. He was still gasping for air and not sure how to respond. Yes? No? He was being tickled. “George?”, Dream tried again. Giggles spilled from his lips and he squirmed under the attention, confused and dizzy.

“It tickles.”, he squeaked out. Maybe that would be good enough? Dream smiled.

“Oh does it?”, he teased. The grip on his foot tightened and he was suddenly thrown back into his wild screaming as Sapnap touched that hairbrush back to his sensitive sole. Sapnap wasn’t going easy, really abusing his weakness. George gulped down air in an attempt to laugh, but the tickling was too intense. Screams tore from his throat before he could stop them and he was helpless to the feeling. His leg twitched violently, but was held in place by a large hand.

Together, they safely took him apart. George was allowed to thrash and scream to his heart's content without a thought.

Eventually, the feeling disappeared and George fell limp. Weak giggles broke through, but George couldn’t squirm at the ghost tickles anymore.

“So…what’s this?”, Sapnap’s voice asked from somewhere. A bunch of dull points pressed into his ticklish and over-sensitive sole and he squealed.

“What is that!!”, he yelled in panic. Both boys were laughing.

“It’s some kind of scalp massager for like, shampoo. But George wanted to be tickled with it.”, Dream explained.

Oh, they weren’t even going to let him recover.

George burst into laughter as Sapnap curiously pressed the massager all over his foot and toes. The sensation wasn’t as intense as the hairbrush, but it was driving him crazy.

“Fuck!”.

“It works pretty well!”. George shook his head through his laughter.

“That feels crazy!!”, he yelled.

“Look, Dream because they are a little pointy I have to be careful, but his ticklish little foot is totally freaking out!”.

“Shut up!!!”, George cried. Sapnap teased the shampoo massager across all of his toes, making him squeal.

“Be nice, Georgie.”, Dream warned and squeezed both of his thighs a few times to make him scream.

“Please!! Dream, fuck!”.

His thighs trembled in fear of another attack. Dream dusted his fingertips against them teasingly to make him jump. Sapnap paused his movements, watching curiously.

“I won’t get them too bad. Not before the massage gun.”, he purred. George shivered at the memory and glanced over where the device was charging. He whimpered.

Without warning, Sapnap teased the shampoo massager back down George’s sole and he squealed loudly.

“I wanna try!”, Dream said as he hopped up and moved to the bottom of the bed near Sapnap.

“No…”, George whined. Sapnap passed him the massager and he gently pressed it into George’s other sole. The boy giggled hysterically and squirmed. “No!”. Dream laughed and teased it along the wiggly toes.

“We gotta oil up these little piggies more often, huh?”. George threw his head back and cackled, affected by the words. “Oh, he’s such a goner.”.

“Get away!”, he cried through his laughter.

Dream and Sapnap passed the massager back and forth, tickling the bottom of George’s oily feet. When one didn’t have the massager, they would play with his toes or skitter their nails into the soles. Without a way to get used to the feeling, George just lost his mind again to the tickles. His laughter was bubbly and helpless. When he could, he would beg;

“Please!”, he tried. “Guys! No more!”, didn’t help either. “Why?!”, he cried. “Fuck!”, it was too much. He tried everything.

Everything besides what would actually stop them, of course.

~•~

“It’s time for the finale!!!”, Dream exclaimed as he unplugged the massage gun and gestured to it. George shook his head weakly.

“You can’t.”, he insisted.

“George, people use those all the time to massage themselves after working out!”, Sapnap said.

“Give it to one of them then!”, he shot back quickly, making them both laugh.

“You’re such an idiot.”, Dream said fondly and grabbed George’s knee. “Alright Sapnap, where do I press it in?”.

They both ignored George’s frantic squirming and begs for mercy as Sapnap scrolled through directions on his phone.

“Okay, try the muscle above his knee and kind of inner thigh.”.

“Got it!”, Dream said. He turned it on and George yelped in fear.

“Don’t do this to me!!!”, he cried.

As soon as the head of the gun touched his thigh again, he was thrashing against the bed with a silent scream. The pulse of ticklish vibrations went through his entire body and shook him to the core. Dream worked it down to find the most sensitive area and one spot tore a piercing scream from George.

“I’m such a good masseuse.”, Dream muttered amusedly, moving around the gun. A sharp laugh pierced the air as George found his breath. It was quick and loud, almost scaring the two. Mostly, he was just thrashing in silence as the overwhelming tickles took him over. Every laugh that fought its way out was strained and desperate.

He lifted up the gun and watched him carefully. Silently, Dream and Sapnap watched George shake with breathy giggles.

“I hate you guys…”, he managed out. The two grinned at each other; he was fine.

“Okay, anywhere else?”.

“Yeah, try higher up on the inside.”.

George couldn’t find it in himself to fight it, he just let himself scream and fall back into desperate silent thrashing as the vibrating head of the gun shook every nerve in his body. It was so intense in the one spot, it felt like he was being tickled from the inside out. His vision blacked so he squeezed his eyes shut, mind swimming in colors. Sharp cackles escaped him over and over again between his silent screams. This might be the worst tickling he’s ever felt.

~•~

If you asked, George would have no idea how long the two tickle monsters tormented his ticklish thighs with that massage gun. They tickled him out. Definitely.

His outbursts of crazed laughter were more and more spread out until he was just convulsing and gasping.

“Skeppy!”, he squeaked out, finally. And it came to a stop.

George went completely limp against the bed. His legs were still shaking from the vibrations, but he just let it happen. He kept his eyes closed and just let Dream and Sapnap take over for him. He relaxed and caught his breath while they un-cuffed him, put him under the covers, and snuggled up on either side of him.

“Wow Georgie, you really held out.”, Dream said softly. He finally let out a tired little giggle and turned his face into Sapnap’s shoulder in embarrassment. The two laughed at him.

“That was torture…”, he murmured quietly into Sapnap’s shoulder. He tried hiding his grin into the younger’s shoulder since he didn’t have the energy to fight it off.

‘He’s smiling.’, Sapnap mouthed to Dream. They both beamed.

Their adorable best friend. So sweet to trust them with this. Tickled to the brink of death, yet still cuddling with them and giddy. George snaked his hand back and grabbed Dream’s shirt, tugging him closer as he laid his head on Sapnap’s chest. He burned with embarrassment, but just nuzzled in and let himself relax. Dream wrapped around him and soon, he was pressed like he wanted to be between his best friends. The ones who knew him more than anybody. Here, he was home.

Together, they drifted off. Warm and happy. George, still buzzing from the events of the night.

[pokemoncardcritique]

TEAM MAGMA'S NUMEL

Illustrated by: Akira Komayama

Starting off we're going to go with a card that really reignited my interest in Pokemon card art many years ago after I stopped collecting them around the Gold/Silver/Crystal days. It's a somewhat humble one, this is no flashy rare or some epic or beautiful piece of work. What it is though is something that shows of a great way Pokemon cards can make their subjects feel more realistic.

Of course the Pokemon world would have beasts of burden, but making a few little Numel into them is a little silly! Fun, but silly! It reminds me of finding members from the Machop family working in construction and moving in the video games. These creatures have special powers, why not use them? Keeping in mind this card was made before more obvious picks like Mudsdale, the Numel depicted feel a little plucky. They're doing their best, that one with the determined look on his face is really giving it his all! The one beside him maybe looks a little too goofy, but I like the one in the back looking a bit worried about the cart's balance. It gives you more to look at with the card than just one Pokemon!

I do think the cart design was a missed opportunity. For some reason it appears these Numel are pushing the cart with a bar, meaning they're going to be walking on their hind legs for long periods, which I can't quite buy. This is definitely inspired by mule carts which require special harnesses, and it feels like the Numel could have been given some nice thematic Team Magma harnesses! If the cart wasn't full of Team Magma goods I'd almost wonder if these little guys were cart robbers, the bar making some more sense if it was maybe for humans to carry at an angle or if some other Pokemon would pull it.

The background having some Team Magma clothing on a clothesline makes me think this might be a little Team Magma commune they're working in too. I think other details like the cracked buildings give the impression this place is a little run down. Maybe that's why the Numel are working instead of something more capable? Could explain the bad cart design too! Can't get your hands on the really heavy duty workers or the best tools! Maybe that Magma Grunt comment is more an attempt to motivate her little camels than the truth!

♦