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what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew · 11 months ago

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BOYCOTTING FOR PALESTINE

The Official BDS Boycott Targets

Campaigns

Block the boat: End maritime arms transfer to Israel

Ban Apartheid Israel from Sports (FIFA, Olympics)

Consumer Boycotts - a complete boycott of these brands

Disney (SPECIFICALLY MARVEL)

Intel

Axa

Puma

Carrefour

Cevron

Caltex

Israeli produce

Re/max

Ahava

Texaco

Siemens

Sodastream

Intel

Organic Boycott Targets - boycotts not initiated by BDS but still complete boycott of these brands

Macdonald's

Dominos

Papa Johns

Burger King

Pizza Hut

Wix

Divestments and exclusion - pressure governments, institutions, investment funds, city councils, etc. to exclude from procurement contracts and investments and to divest from these

Elbit Systems

CAF

Volvo

CAT

Barclays

JCB

HD Hyundai

TKH Security

HikVision

Pressure - boycotts when reasonable alternatives exist, as well as lobbying, peaceful disruptions, and social media pressure.

Google

Amazon

AirBnb

Booking.Com

Expedia

Teva

Here are some companies that strongly support Israel (but are not Boycott targets). There is no ethical consumption under capitalism and boycotting is a political strategy - not a moral one. If you did try to boycott every supporter of Israel you would struggle to survive because every major company supports Israel (as a result of attempting to keep the US economy afloat), that being said, the ones that are being boycotted by masses and not already on the organic boycott list are coloured red.

5 Star Chocolate

7Days

7Up

Apple

Arsenal FC

ALDO

Arket

Axe

Accenture

Ariel

Adidas

ActionIQ

Aquafina

Amika

AccuWeather

Activia

Adobe

Aesop

Azrieli Group

American Eagle

Amway Corp

Axel Springer

American Airlines

American Express

Atlassian

AdeS

Aquarius

Ayataka

Audi

Barqs

Bain & Company

Bayer

Bank Leumi

Bank Hapoalim

BCG (Boston Consulting Group)

Biotherm

Bershka

Bloomberg

BMW

Boeing

Booz Allen Hamilton

Burberry

Bath & Body Works

Bosch

Bristol Myers Squibb

Capri Holdings

Costa

Carita Paris

CareTrust REIT

Caterpillar

Coach

Cappy

Caudalie

CeraVe

Check Point Software Technologies

Cerelac

Chanel

Chapman and Cutler

Channel

Cheerios

Cheetos

Chevron

Chips Ahoy!

Christina Aguilera

Citi Bank

Carrefour

Codral

Cosco

Canada Dry

Citi

Clal Insurance Enterprises

Clean & Clear

Clearblue

Clinique

Champion

Club Social

Coca Cola

Coffee Mate

Colgate

Comcast

Compass

Caesars

Conde Nast

Cooley LLP

Costco

Côte d’Or

Crest

CV Starr

CyberArk Software

Cytokinetics

Crayola

Cra Z Art

Daimler

Dr Pepper

Del Valle

Daim

Doctor Pepper

Dasani

Doritos

Daz

Dior

Dell

Deloitte

Delta Air Lines

Deutsche Bank

Deutsche Telekom

DHL Group

David Off

Disney

DLA Piper

Domestos

Domino’s

Douglas Elliman

Downy

Duane Morris LLP

Dreft Baby Detergent & Laundry Products

Dreyer’s Grand Ice Cream

eBay

Edelman

Eli Lilly

Evian

Empyrean

Ericsson

Endeavor

EPAM Systems

Estee Lauder

Elbit Systems

Forbes

Facebook

Fairlife

Fanta

First International Bank of Israel

Fiverr

Funyuns

Fuze

Fox News

Fritos

Fox Corp

Gatorade

Gamida Cell

Glamglow

General Catalyst

General Motors

Georgia

Gold Peak

Genesys

Goldman Sachs

Grandma’s Cookies

Garnier

Guess

Greenberg Traurig

Guerlain

Givenchy

H&M

Hadiklaim

Huggies

Hanes

HSBC

Head & Shoulders

Hersheys

Herbert Smith Freehills

Hewlett Packard

Hasbro

Hyundai

Henkel

Harel Insurance Investment & Financial Services

Hewlett Packard Enterprise

HubSpot

Huntsman Corp

IBM

Innocent

Insight Partners

Inditex Group

IT Cosmetics

Instacart

Intermedia

Interpublic Group

Instagram

ICL Group

Intuit

Jazwares

Jefferies

John Lewis

JP Morgan Chase

Jaguar

Johnson & Johnson

JPMorgan

Kenon Holdings

Kate Spade

Kirks’

Kinley Water

KKR

KFC

KKW Cosmetics

Kurkure

Keebler

Kolynos

Kaufland

Kevita

Knorr

KPMG

Lemonade

Lidl

Loblaws

Levi Strauss

Louis Vuitton

Life Water

Levi’s

Levi’s Strauss

Land Rover

L’Oréal

Lego

Levissima

Live Nation Entertainment

Lufthansa

La Roche-Posay

Lipton

Major League Baseball

Manpower Group

Marriott

Marsh McLennan

Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Mastercard

Mattel

Minute Maid

Monster

Monki

Mainz FC

Mellow Yellow

Mountain Dew

Migdal Insurance

Marks & Spencer

Mirinda

McDermott Will & Emery

Motorola

McKinsey

Merck

Michael Kors

Mizrahi Tefahot Bank

Merck KGaA

Micheal Kors

Milkybar

Maybelline

Mount Franklin

Meta

MeUndies

Mattle

Microsoft

Munchies

Miranda

Morgan Lewis

Moroccanoil

Morgan Stanley

MRC

Nasdaq

Naughty Dog

Nivea

NOS

Nabisco

Nutter Butter

No Frills

National Basketball Association

National Geographic

Nintendo

New Balance

Nutella

Newtons

NVIDIA

Netflix

Nescafe

Nestle

Nesquick

Nike

Nussbeisser

Oreo

Oral B

Old spice

Oysho

Omeprazole

Oceanspray

Opodo

P&G (Procter and Gamble)

Pampers

Pull & Bear

Pepsi

Pfizer

Popeyes

Parker Pens

Philadelphia Cream Cheese

Pizza Hut

Powerade

Purina

Phoenix Holdings

Propel

Ponds

Pure Leaf Green Tea

Power Action Wipes

PwC

Prada

Perry Ellis

Prada Eyewear

Pringles

Payoneer

Procter & Gamble

Purelife

Pureology

Quaker Oats

Royal Bank of Canada

Ruffles

Revlon

Ralph Lauren

Ritz

Rolls Royce

Royal

S.Pellegrino

Sabra Hummus

Sabre

Sony

SAP

Simply

Smart Water

Sprite

Schwabe

Shell

Soda Stream

Siemens

StreamElements

Schweppes

Sunsilk

Signal

Skittles

Smart Food

Sobe

Smarties

Sephora

Sam’s Club

Superbus

Samsung

Sodastream

Sunkist

Scotiabank

Sour Patch Kids

Starbucks

Sadaf

Stride

Subway

Tang

Tate’s Bake Shop

The Body Shop

Tesco

Twitch

The Ordinary

Tim Hortons

Tostitos

Timberland

Topo Chico

Tapestry

Tropicana

Tommy Hilfiger

Tommy Hilfiger Toiletries

Turbos

Tom Ford

Taco Bell

Triscuit

TUC

Twix

Tottenham Hotspurs

Twisties

Tripadvisor

Uber

Uber Eats

Urban Decay

Upfield

Unilever

Vicks

Victoria’s Secret

Vaseline

Vitaminwater

Volkswagen

Volvo

Walmart

Wegmans

Waitrose

Woolworths

Wheat Thins

Walkers

Warner Brothers

Warner Chilcot

Warner Music

Wells Fargo

Winston & Strawn

WingStreet

Wissotzky Tea

WWE

Wheel Washing Powder

Wrigley Company

YouTube

Yvel

Yum Brands

Ziyad

Zara

Zim Shipping

Ziff Davis

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atlaswav · 2 months ago

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EMPYREAN ☾

INFO: 4385 words, dr ratio x gn!reader, college au SYNOPSIS: Art is the practice of capturing life in still motion, and yet Dr Ratio can never seem to capture your beauty in its entirety in his sketches. His waking thoughts are clouded by images of you, the bane of his existence. He hates it, but can't resist. The Gods - if there are any - are cruel. WARNINGS: none! for once! except attempted kiss. AUTHOR'S NOTE: my head hurts so bad rn and i need sleep but there were thoughts in my mind. also i think its really boring lowkey but hey! i said i'd publish something by sunday! also i think his characterisation is really off today but oh well.

Divinity wasn’t real. There were no real Gods, they didn’t exist – couldn’t. Science proved such. Miracles were situations of insurmountable luck, and no one’s fate was “ordained” like astrology maniacs liked to think.

But when Icarus fell from the great skies of myth, reaching for the sun and Gods and the heavens beyond, Veritas Ratio was sure that the gnawing terror and morbid awe that seized that man at the sight below was familiar to him. That sprawling city touched by the sublime sun, smiled upon with the benevolent God peering through the clouds whose gaze melted fragile wax.

He was sure that that fear and unprecedented awe was the same as when he first glimpsed you.

His fall, however, wasn’t graceful or worthy of any legend.

“Oh– you alright?”

“My apologies, I–” he glanced up, leaning down to immediately pick up his sketchbook which had fallen to the ground, then he froze.

“...Are you okay?”

This, he wasn’t certain. You helped him gather his supplies again, and he thought he’d never see you again – there were so many buildings and so many classes, why would he? But as if fate was stringing him along, he wound up sitting next to you for his art studies class. The class he convinced himself he needed to take for a proper education.

Icarus’ fall was met with swift demise, and he was so sure that he would too. But who was he to compare himself to legends? Even still, why else would he be stricken by the malady of your existence, if you weren’t some overwhelming beauty that his greed desired to capture?

Art, however, could not capture life as any man would like. It could never catch the way light reflected in the eyes, illuminating the soul. Neither the delicate intricacies of a smile, a twitch of muscle, a beating of a butterfly’s wings, the delicacy of life.

Try as one might, however, Dr Ratio aimed to do this, anyway. Charcoal was his chosen medium, pervading clean paper, marking intent, focus and desperation.

He remembered you casting him a smile before seating yourself beside him, and all his doubts in taking the art course dissipated from his mind – despite your literal run in moments before.

You became immersed in the artwork at your fingertips as the professor chirped about something he should’ve probably been attentive to, but to him, it was now entirely meaningless. Your cheeks lifted when you smiled, creasing the corners of your eyes. Your hair fell over your face in graceful lines that framed your features, and your hands moved with such gentle dexterity that he yearned to capture them in his drawings. Your eyes narrowed in the slightest as your brush met the canvas, mouth agape with your fixation on your art.

The charcoal snapped, and Veritas Ratio likewise snapped from his immersion, frowning at the dark lines that marred the page.

In his sketch, your eyes were obscured by a wall of smudged black ash instead of the curtain of hair that covered your features. Ratio sighed, leaning back from the desk. Your eyes were now downcast on your palette as you mixed paints.

There was a divinity in you that he yearned to capture, like sunlight in a jar. Futile, but with noble intention, he swore to himself.

Then, there were more classes. More days that passed, more instances where he observed your habits, your artwork that had you enrapt, just as he imagined his own perverse captivation with you. There were more charcoal sketches in sketchbooks that never saw the light of day, ones where your smile was too wide, didn’t meet your eyes, or didn’t carry the exact expression that yours projected.

Art could never imitate life �� Veritas was simply mortal. But mortals could always dream of something divine.

There were times where he left the classroom for a moment, and he feared you might glance over at his sketchbook to see the hundreds of sketches of yourself. Smiling and frowning and focused, the end of your paintbrush sitting absently between your lips, your gaze cast to the side, small splatters of paint smudged under your eyes and on your fingers. It was unsettling. He knew it himself. There had to be an extent to his observation when it became invasive, yet he feared losing your presence without ever capturing it in still motion.

This is when a man grows desperate.

“May I draw you?”

“...draw me?” you glanced towards him, reluctantly tearing your gaze from your own work. “Why?”

“A study.”

You smiled a half smile. An expression that he was familiar with, given that you were already halfway through the semester. Still, there was nothing to your encounters but smiles of courtesy and niceties (he’d never admit that he so desired more).

“Sure. Show it to me later.”

Now, Dr Ratio discovers, there are few things that may disturb a man’s endeavours when he is enrapt in his studies. None of which affected Veritas in the slightest as his charcoal became dust on his fingers and he clicked his tongue at the material’s reluctance to bend at his will.

None of which can successfully capture the being that is you, and he isn’t sure he wants to, anymore. Art isn’t made for the eyes of greed, it’s made for the soul that yearns for the cure of the senses. Or so the greats all say, but he thinks he cannot be one of them. He couldn’t imitate life, he was versed in the calculations of life instead.

Caught in his thoughts, he taps his – new – stick of charcoal on the edge of the drawing pad, frowning at the new sketch he was pondering.

“You’re really good.” your voice echoes from behind him.

He turns abruptly to find you standing behind him, head tilted as you examine his sketches. Your nose scrunches the tiniest bit, and your eyes crinkle with a hint of mirth.

“Does my nose really look like that?”

“Of course.”

You laugh at his blunt reply. “Can I see your other drawings?”

There are over seven thousand languages that still exist in the world, and Veritas Ratio cannot think of a better, more dire way to say no than to agree completely.

“Of course.” He flips through his sketchbook quietly, letting you glimpse his insanity. You were making him lose his mind, really. He watches your expression – how your eyes widen, your lips part, your brows furrow.

“Did you do all of this since the last lesson?”

No, but he wouldn’t say that –

“No, I've been studying you for a while.”

– Or maybe he would.

Your laugh is another divine thing that he wishes he can capture. “Oh God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You make a good muse.”

“Do I?”

He nods, biting his tongue. He doesn’t want to incriminate himself any further than he already has, and he’s already become a stalker to you.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yes. Undoubtedly.”

“Consider me flattered, then…”

“Dr Ratio. Veritas. Veritas Ratio.”

“...Veritas.”

He loves the way your lips mouth his name. He’d never say it to your face, though. This, at least, would die with him.

“Well, thank you. You may return to your painting.”

You huff a laugh. “So formal. I’m nearly done, so I don’t really have anything urgent to worry about. Meanwhile you…”

He’s inclined to agree. The professor was checking everyone’s progress the next lesson, and he still hadn’t grasped what he thought to have been perfect.

“Ah. Right.”

“Do you want me to like… pose for you or something?”

He hesitates. Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe something about morality and art and the truth, but he doesn’t care anymore. “That… would be ideal.”

“Alright, but you’ll owe me as well. Deal?”

This is how Veritas Ratio finds himself pacing his apartment, fixing his hair in the mirror, dusting the tops of the bookshelves that line the walls and polishing the kitchen counter so that each surface is devoid of any evidence of his own guilty conscience.

His anxieties were immediately multiplied hundredfold when you knocked. He waited a couple of seconds – to not seem too desperate, with his heart racing out of his chest – then finally opened the door.

You stood there, smiling with such casual ease that he found himself wanting to know everything about you.

It was absurd.

A tiny, suppressed part of him welcomed it.

“Hey, Veritas,”

There it was again, the unfamiliar way you said his name, smile widening. He decided against a verbal reply, instead nodding and guiding you into his living room.

“You’re so… clean.” you glanced about the apartment, marvelling at how almost every surface had a shine to it. But it made sense, once you saw him sitting at the couch, already observing you with the unshakeable gaze you’d felt since that first class.

You weren’t entirely oblivious to his stare, just as you weren’t unobservant with the way his cheeks dusted with pink the day before – and today, it seemed – as he made eye contact.

You smiled, and watched him blink a couple of times before turning away with a cleared throat.

“Yes. I can’t stand a mess of any sort.”

“Figured.” you shrugged, standing next to him. “So, where do you want to start? What should I do?”

He hesitated for a second before directing you to the armchair across from him. “Just sit there for now. We’ll start here.”

You complied, allowing him to hurriedly arrange the folds of your clothes and angle of your limbs with fleeting touches.

He appeared nervous, but it was endearing.

Minutes pass by in silence, faint scratching of charcoal on paper filling the space between you. The sunset’s light poured in through the balcony behind you, casting a dramatic shadow over the armchair. Purple, orange, yellow – you wondered if that scrutinising look he gave you was disapproval or awe. There was no way of telling, with his complex set of facial-expressions.

But interpreting him through guesses wasn’t how you envisioned this would play out.

You cleared your throat, but he didn't glance up. He held the sketchbook up next to you, but quickly returned to the page, making harsh lines across the page.

“So… Veritas?”

His head snapped up, stray strands of violet hair splayed across his forehead. “Yes?”

“Why did you take art?”

His eyes narrowed on you. Examining, maybe. “I felt as if I needed to. For a well rounded study, of course.”

You laughed. “Of course you did.”

At this, he paused. “What do you mean by this?”

“Your reputation on campus. You have… what, four degrees? You’re famous.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, never putting down the charcoal, but tapping it against his fingers instead. “Oh? What else have you heard?”

“Well, they say you’re insanely smart, but you’re also pretentious.”

He frowned. The way his brows scrunched was endearing. “I’m not pretentious. Everyone else is simply far underqualified.”

“They also say that you’re an elitist.” you laughed.

Concern only grew on his expression. “Do you think this of me?”

You shrugged. “I’m yet to form an opinion.”

He nodded. “Good. Wise.” he said, almost as if reassuring himself.

“...How long will this be, though? I can only sit still for so long.”

He blinked, turning to the sketchpad again. “Not too long. I promise.”

“Can we go out to dinner, afterwards?”

At this, he choked. You stifled a laugh at the renewed blush on his cheeks.

“Dinner? Why?”

“You owe me, don’t you?”

This is when he realises that he was a fool in allowing you in, to allow the muse of his most divine visions to become human.

He’s greedy, though. No one and nothing can change this. He wanted more of you. He wanted to hear each thought that crossed your mind and know each little item that occupied your attention. He wanted to dissect your mind and examine your memories and behaviours like an insect splayed under a glass, and he wanted to understand you so well that he became sick with the thought of you. But in his mind, you could do no wrong. You were so divine; with your secret smiles that held secret thoughts, and knowing glances that examined his frame with an artist’s scrutinising eye.

“Fine. Just let me finish up.”

So you stay put, and you return to the thick silence that envelops the room. The clock ticking above the armchair only taunts you as your limbs begin to ache from lack of movement.

Scratching on paper, huffs of exasperation, the occasional tearing of a page, and he finally sighs, rising from the couch. The sun had long since set, only remnants of daylight still lingering on the sky’s deep blue. The light was gone. You wondered if he’d captured the sun in his drawing, as well.

“It’s done. Not good as the professor would like, but it will do for now.” he said, running a hand – dusted with black – through his hair. His forehead was coated in splotches of black thumb prints.

You similarly rose from the armchair, stretching, and walked over to the drawing on the coffee table.

You didn’t realise this was how you looked to him. Your features were only emphasised in the dramatics of the sunset, the slight turn of your lips and curve of your cheekbones accentuated with the shadows. He’d taken artistic liberty, you realised, in painting you within the sun’s dying light.

You almost looked divine.

“Holy shit.”

“Does that hold a negative connotation?”

“Veritas, you’re crazy.”

“...negative?”

“It’s so…” you met his gaze which was already searching yours for a reaction. “It’s brilliant. It’s so, so good.”

His shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Good. Let’s go to dinner, then.” he turns to leave, but you stop him, grabbing his arm. You found that it was hard as chiselled marble, and almost want to find out exactly what’s underneath, but you dismiss the thought.

“You have something on your forehead.” you point.

He frowned, rubbing his forehead with the same hand that had been gripping the charcoal for the past hour. Smudged it even further. His forehead was thinly coated in black ash.

You sighed. “Here, let me.”

He leaned down for you to wipe the stains, hair hanging over his eyes. He smelled faintly of the library with its old books, and partly of ink with something deeper. His eyes darted around to meet anything but your gaze, long lashes fluttering, crimson red eyes matching the shade of his complexion.

You make him nervous, you confirm with delight.

“There. That’s the most of it.” you withdrew, and he stood back up quicker than you thought possible.

“Alright, dinner, then.”

“Dinner.”

“I’ll go and… wash up.”

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

He realised how much he was doomed as the sky started to pour with rain, just as the two of you stepped outdoors, beyond his apartment complex.

“How far is the place you wanted to go?” he asked you.

“Not too far. Let’s just keep walking.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you. His steps were terrifyingly large, as would make sense with his tall frame.

“So what are your interests?” he blurts out, staring at the ground as he walks.

“Well, art, obviously,”

“Yes, of course, do you think I’m dense?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I will interpret that as sarcasm.”

You laugh, and as if the heavens had heard you, the rain began to fall heavier, darkening the landscape, tingeing the air with smells of petrichor and a cold that wasn’t there before.

Ratio thought it was ironic. A pathetic fallacy of his doomed fate.

“You have to be kidding me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. “We are unfortuitous.”

“...You could’ve said unlucky.”

“I choose not to associate myself with idiots.”

You chuckle as you attempt to cover your head with your arms, running to the nearest block for shelter. The rain, however, doesn’t desist. It continues to pour until you’re both soaked through – his hair soaking wet, sticking to his forehead, white shirt clinging to his carved abdomen that you desperately try to avoid looking at.

“Should we just go back?” you move your hair out of your eyes, squinting in the relentless downpour. Through the slight shelter of the building behind you two, the rain pours heavy as ever, unlikely to cease soon.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”

“...Why didn’t you offer it first?”

Because he thought you looked good in the rain with wet hair. He wanted to remember the image – burn it into his eyelids – before he returned to sketch it. Number of things he’d never say aloud: two.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion yourself.”

“Pretentious.”

“Thank you. Now can we hurry? It’s only getting heavier.”

His situation, ironically, then becomes even more perilous. A series of unfortunate events, unfolding like a train of misfortunes. First, your meeting – strikingly uncomfortable for both of you, he imagined (it certainly was for him) – then your failed attempt at dinner, interrupted by an unforgiving rain storm. He didn’t think it could get much worse. But there was always room for improvement, as he knows better than anyone, the academic that he is.

There are, now, puddles of water throughout Dr Ratio’s apartment that he hadn’t bothered to clean since you got into his shower.

You, in his shower.

He wonders if there is a God, somewhere out there, delighting in his torment. It was never supposed to devolve into such interactions, only observing you long enough to capture your beauty on the page.

He wonders if you know he is thinking about you often as he does. Thinks you’d be completely repulsed by him. This is what frightens him.

“Veritas?” your voice echoes from within the house.

He gets up from where he’s sitting in a puddle near the kitchen, racing to the bathroom at your call. Did he manage to miss something incriminating in his bathroom? He’d made sure that every surface was bare before you entered, had he not?

“Yes?”

“...This is embarrassing. Can you please get me a towel?”

This felt like one of those cliches in romantic comedies that Ratio’s colleagues liked to watch. Mindless scenes of dry humour and burlesque attempts at “comedy” he found appalling. It was happening to him, now. Spiting his academic rigidity.

“Of course. One moment.”

He tries not to think about you, standing completely bare behind the door, as he sticks a hand into the bathroom, head turned away. If you looked closer, you’d have seen the bright red shade of his ears – but to his merit, you take the towel, shutting the door, a muffled “thank you” audible through the door.

He sighs, sitting on the floor beside the bathroom.

Whatever Gods there were, were bestowing great suffering on him today.

It takes a couple minutes for you to finish up in the bathroom. Another few more for him to wash up, and another handful of minutes for you both to be seated on the couch together in awkward silence.

You wear one of Ratio’s old shirts and shorts, scrolling on your phone, and he is sitting, arms crossed, on the opposite end of the couch, staring at you again. Outside, the rain still pours in unceasing rivulets, dissipating any ideas for going out for dinner.

He thinks his clothes look far better on you than on him. Thinks that you were made for this world and its inhabitants, crafted so perfectly. Wonders what wouldn’t suit your wear, because he can’t imagine anything that you couldn’t look good in.

“Okay,” you say, turning off your phone to stare back at him, “I ordered. Should be here in about ten minutes.”

He nods, and averts his gaze.

You smile. His behaviour is amusing.

“Veritas?”

“Yes?”

“What are your greatest fears?”

“Excuse me?”

You shuffle closer, and he notes a glint in your eye that suggests mischief. Teasing, as he’d seen before. “What are you afraid of? Like, the dark?”

“Nothing.”

“Boring. Come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He frowns, brows bunching together as he stares at the wall. An easy, natural habit. “Nothing. Fear is irrational.”

“Right.” you laugh at his blatant refusal to cooperate with you.

“Am I being funny?”

“No,”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being so… unexpectedly childish.”

“What?” he seems to prickle up with indignation. “What do you mean?”

“Your stubbornness to just answer my question, and the way you’re…” you gesture to his posture, the way his arms are folded and he glares at the wall. “Behaving. It’s childish.”

“Well, what are you afraid of? Nothing, right? It’s a stupid question.”

“I’m afraid of insects, the dark, I could go on, really,”

Veritas glares at you, meeting your eyes for a second. “Fear is stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you scared of holding eye contact?”

At this, he blinks. He turns to face you, still frowning, but his gaze flickers between your eyes and the rest of your face. Your laugh only makes him roll his eyes.

“You really can’t hold eye contact, can you?” you say through a fit of giggles. “Have you ever dated?”

“Yes, I can hold eye contact,” – but not with you, it seemed. You intimidated him – “And no, I haven’t, it’s a distraction.”

“From what I’m seeing, you can barely even be near me without blushing.”

He blushes, breathing a sigh of exasperation.

“Dr Veritas Ratio’s one fear is making eye–”

Then he grabs your shoulders, forcing you closer, and holds your gaze with such intensity that the words disappear from your lips. You blink as his stare bores into yours, crimson eyes deep, shining with something unfamiliar to you that you realise you want to decipher.

People like to say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Veritas Ratio’s was ridden with something that burned like the sun's dying light.

It’s then that you realise how close you are to him, how his firm grip on your shoulders softens and his touch drifts to hover above your jaw, how he smelled so inviting, familiar and distant all at once, and how his lips were slightly parted, how they looked so soft –

Knocking, at the front door.

You both tear away, and he stumbles to the front door to collect your delivery.

You never regret anything more than this moment.

“Delivery.”

You nod, obscuring your face with your hair as he sets down your meal on the coffee table.

You’re both back to silence, pleasantries and common niceties as the meal passes.

Neither of you meet the other’s eye.

Time ticks away as you finish your food and clean up, wiled away by carefully weighed words and half-met glances.

He hates it.

He hates how you were looking at him with such curiosity, and he hates how he let you tease him. He also hates the delivery man for not being delayed by the rain, but he also hates himself for not ignoring the knocks on his front door.

“I think I should go now.”

Yes, that would be best. “Why? It’s still raining, you could stay.”

“Well…”

He knows your dorm is far from his apartment complex. He knows that you’ll have to trek through the rain, and yet he also knows that if you stay, he won't be able to sleep. He still has images of you – fresh in his mind – to sketch onto the page.

“It’s no trouble.”

“Okay. I’ll stay the night.”

“You can sleep in my room.”

“But–”

“Don’t argue.”

Somehow, you’re inclined to do as he says.

Time, like all things, passes too quickly and too slowly all at once. Without time, nothing exists, but with it, it’s all too agonising to live through.

This is exactly how Dr Ratio feels as he sits at the coffee table, the small space dimly illuminated by a lamp, as the entire apartment is still. You’re probably sleeping, as he reminds himself, tearing another page out of his sketchbook, unsatisfied with his own hand.

The rain was now tame, a steady rhythm to his never-ending endeavours to capture your beauty on the page.

Maybe it’s when the charcoal snaps in his hands, or maybe it’s when his lamplight flickers that he decides that capturing life in still motion is helpless – a pointless and impossible venture that can never succeed.

You’re too deific to fit into a world of his creation.

What are supposed to be your eyes – painted with fervour, but lacking depth – stare up into the ceiling as he dozes off, charcoal falling from his hand, eyes drooping closed. Slivers of moonlight cut across your painted face as he slumps onto the table, snoring softly.

—

You wake to sunlight in your eyes, blinding and harsh, and realise where you are.

It all smells like him – that scent that you can’t place that smells good, and a lingering smell of the library with all its papers. It all smells like him, and when you walk into the living room, you find that his own apartment is completely devoid of any sense of himself.

But when you find him slumped at the coffee table, lamplight still illuminating the space with its curtains drawn and rays of sunlight peering through, he’s obsessed with you.

You’re unsure what, exactly, to feel. There are abandoned pages scattered all throughout the space, and unfurling one, you recognise your own face staring back at you.

Each and every drawing is of you – your hair wet, clinging to your skin, you drowning in his clothes far too large for you, or your face painted with curiosity and entrapment.

It’s you through Veritas’ gaze, and you think that beyond all else, he made you look divine.

When Veritas Ratio wakes to his papers – all wrinkled and partly torn – sitting in front of him, neatly arranged with a note on top, realisation hits him, but he can only laugh.

“Veritas Ratio’s greatest fear: eye contact with the person he’s obsessed with. Completely irrational – even though he can draw me perfectly from memory. A shame, really. Looks like you’ll have to invite me over to pose for you again.

So you can get my eyes right, of course.”

written by @atlaswav , published 26th of August 2024

#dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #ratio x reader #hsr ratio #dr ratio #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio hsr #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #ratio hsr #ratio x you #hsr veritas #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #ratio honkai star rail #dr ratio is desperate and really stupid giggles and kicks feet #his characterisation might be so fucking off im sorry #☁️. writing

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sicklyseraphnsuch · 5 months ago

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Regarding Miquella

Disregarding the consort thing, that's a whole different issue.

But like, I don't think I'm reaching to say that Miquella didn't sound 100% calm and cool in the memory of him. Miquella sounds like he was praying - he sounds like he was desperate.

And I'm not sure I fully understand why people believe the haligtree and st. trina were discarded in the DLC when it feels like the player's understanding and experience with Miquella's references in the base game is absolutely being capitalized on and leveraged against the player.

Trigger Warning: Suicide Mention under Cut

Let me put it this way: the DLC is essentially the discovery of Miquella's suicide note

Miquella's decision to become a god makes sense. The world is in shambles. His older brother's soul was destroyed permanently. There's no going back. The time is for big swings and big swings only. So Miquella decides to become a god.

And divinity is the equivalent of suicide for an empyrean. Miquella is going to discard his body, his heart, his love/soul - everything that defines him. Who he will be after gaining divinity is not who he once was.

Now, how the fuck is the player supposed to care about any of that if we didn't have prior inkling to Miquella's character? Granted, all information comes secondhand, but neither is Miquella a total stranger and unknown to the player. We have Some information - enough to develop a stake in the proceedings.

As an English teacher might comment on an essay: "So what?"

So what if Miquella decides to become a god? This becomes dependent on the player. Miq fans would go, "we don't want this for him because he's essentially dying - we love the haligtree and st. trina, we don't want that to go away". Not miq fans maybe feel suspicious (especially given the whole "charming the disciples" thing), and they'll think, "oh we can't have that guy become a god, that's bad news"

Narrative wise, it makes sense if the DLC's quest is to "stop Miquella from becoming a god". I would argue that it's not discarding prior established lore of Miq because the player's perception of the lore is the basis for their reaction to Miquella's proceedings. Grief, primarily.

What does however surprise me is that we're not allowed to save Miquella. That Miquella's already too far gone. We can only offer to slay the divine being he becomes - someone decidedly no longer the Miquella.

Tl;Dr I don't understand why people think the DLC retconned the Haligtree and the St. Trina lore when the DLC explicitly defines Miquella's actions as a radical departure (or a radical escalation, depending on your view) from his usual Modus Operandi.

#elden ring #sote spoilers #shadow of the erdtree #miquella the unalloyed #suicide mention #tw suicide #I DIDNT MENTION RADAHN ONCE #KEEP THAT IN MIND #THIS AINT ABOUT HIM

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afreakingdork · 12 days ago

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SCREACHING PREACHING DYING BEING REVIVED!!!

What a lovely thing to wake you up to :3

We stan Dr. Kuro, she’s a real one I can tell. Based beyond compare.

Though I am curious and amused at the mutating part. Like- yea it may be insignificant in the long run besides making sure that we don’t die but it is intriguing to say the least.

Radioactive sperm

The terms tickles me to think about even if not exactly accurate.

YOU KNOW I DIDNT HAVE ANXIETY ABOUT WHAT EVERYONE WOULD THINK ABOUT DR KURO BECAUSE I WAS SO FOCUSED ON GETTING MY BIOLOGY RIGHT

NOW IM REALIZING EVERYONE COULD HAVE TAKEN HER POORLY AND IM SCREAMING

SHE'S SUCH A BIG PART OF THE FIC AND I FORGOT THAT PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE THAT AHHHH

Anyway, thank you for liking her 😭

Whenever I hear radioactive sperm I always think of that cursed Spider-Man story because hey guess what, there's a story were Peter gave Mary Jane cancer because she was exposed to his radioactive seminal fluid!

Donnie's sperm is not radioactive for the record! It's Empyrean... active... Totally... different.... 😂

#ask

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its-to-the-death · 11 months ago

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Villain Song Showdown Preliminary Round #10

Top two will make it into the bracket

Songs below the cut

Licorice Land - Villain: Lord Licorice

youtube

Driver's Seat - Villain: Temeluchas

youtube

Golden Queen Galaxia - Villain: Sailor Galaxia

youtube

Va Tosca/Te Deum - Villain: Baron Vitellio Scarpia

youtube

The Empyrean Suite - Villain: Tarn

Not a song that exists but here is some info on it

Not So Bad - Villain: Baron von Nazi

youtube

One Step Ahead - Villain: Owen Carvour

youtube

The Coldest Goodbye Reprise - Villain: Owen Carvour

youtube

Let the Pun Fit the Crime - Villain: Dr. Screwball

youtube

A Terrible Ride - Villain: Siren

youtube

#villain song showdown #preliminary round #candy land #candy land the great lollipop adventure #dead end paranormal park #sailor moon #sailor moon stars #tosca #transformers #transformers more than meets the eye #spies are forever #wander over yonder #lizard boy #lizard boy the musical #tournament poll

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gonetoforks · 6 months ago

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Introducing; my version of Rise’s Venus de Milo! (OUTDATED; adding the canon design for BM’s assistant!)

(she/her/thon/thons) She’s about 9 ft tall since she’s equally based off of Frankenstein, IDW Venus and the OG Venus de Milo. more info about her and her life under the cut! (Like, a lot more info, she’s been living in my head since last April) (She’s a year old and I’m only now revealing her info!) (HBD Venus!!)

Her Family in the Hidden City

Big Mama had her made by a scientist/patron of hers during the first 2 seasons as a synthetic competitor for her Battle Nexus, but after her change of heart in the S2 finale, she took thon in as her heiress and daughter to try and do something right for a change. It’s very hard for her. Her parenting style is a good balance of gentle and stern but she thinks praise is a good replacement for emotional vulnerability and it’s turned Venus into quite a megalomaniac. Venus just calls her “Mama” and BM calls her “Veedee” (If she calls thon “Venus,” thon’s in deep shit)

Time wise, after the movie she’s physically at age 1.5, 2 years old, though mentally thon’s about where Leo and Donnie are, 16. (Still very young, please keep in mind she is a child and has big eyes like the teenagers in the show, she’s just tall. If you sexualize her I will send you to the shadow realm. BEHAVE.)

Venus also sees the doctor that made her, Dr Shelly, as her father, and they’re quite close. She spent the first few weeks of her life in his home, mostly in his library where she filled her head with everything most people know intuitively. She often can recite information she has no memory of learning, these first few weeks were less like learning and more like remembering information but from no memories.

Venus’s closest friend & surrogate older sister is Jennika, who works as Big Mama’s assistant (and a fine artist!) under the codename “Frida.” The 2 spend most of their days on diplomatic missions in the Hidden City mafia underworld and managing/restructuring the Battle Nexus to be more ethical. Venus is a naturally studious academic who loves philosophy, literature, and of course, renaissance art, so adults tend to think she’s mature, but only Jennika really knows how naive she can be. Jennika misses her human family, so they’ve really latched onto each other.

She picked her name out herself. When thon was first revived, Shelly rushed up to her and almost addressed her with a name starting with V but stopped himself before he could say it in full. Changed his mind and said that he supposed that name probably wouldn’t fit right now. So she had a preference for a V name.

Thon’s Physiology

It’s quite the mystery how he did it, but the secret to Venus’s sentience is a machine that manages to convert any matter she digests into energy in the form of empyrean. This is why she was mostly kept a rapunzel-like secret for the first few months of her life before she had Jennika as a bodyguard. Nobody knows about her heart except herself, Jennika, Shelly and Big Mama.

If she bleeds or cries, it glows bright green, so she hates both because thon feels like she’s drawing attention to herself. She’s insecure about most of her organic parts anyway and pushes herself to appear stoney, inorganic and perfect. (The consequences of idolizing and wanting to emulate a literal goddess statue, skill issue) It’s not like her fears are completely unfounded though, she has no idea where Shelly got her dead body parts.

If she’s too stressed, the seams on her upper arms bleed and they fall off like a gecko tail. She kinda looks like the og Venus do Milo statue when that happens, it’s a bit gruesome.

To represent her need to balance the organic/inorganic parts of herself, thon’s biggest dreams vs realistic expectations for herself, her right hand is organic (and based off the 2012 turtles) while her left is robotic. (& made to look like big mama’s claws in her spider form)

Goals & wants

She wants to overthrow the council of heads and rule the Hidden City as president. (Through a democracy of course!) She sees them as ineffective and useless, she went to them during the Kraang invasion to tell them something needed to be done about the alien invaders but they did nothing and said to let the turtles handle it. She’s grateful everything turned out well but she still has a grudge against them and the way they run things. Big Mama thinks she’s silly and Jennika thinks she’s a mentally unwell, workaholic, megalomaniac but pizza supreme as her witness, thon’s gonna do it.

Thon wants to be a good, ethical leader/politician (oxymoronic, I know lmao) and sees the increasing amount of Battle Nexus estate Big Mama entrusts her with as practice for managing yokai society. She would love “the Good Place.”

She also wants to know more about Jennika and for her to reconcile with her father.

Venus’s arc

“Your life is your own, ok?!” She struggles with dehumanizing (de-turtle-izing?) herself because she believes it makes her greater, more fit to achieve her goals. When the fact that she’s a mortal, breathing, living being, that can’t possibly be anywhere near divine like thon thinks she needs to be hits her, she spirals. Thon desperately needs to learn that being imperfect is a necessary gift, that she is “the protagonist of her own life” and that you don’t need to be a great person to do great things, you just need to be a person.

She’s very studious and seen as intelligent and mature for her age, but when she’s put in real life situations after meeting her cousins, the turtles, she has to learn to to manage imperfections and embrace them.

She’s quite based off of MP100 and Barbie haha.

For this internal conflict I was inspired by how the original character’s depiction back in the 80’s was really,, dehumanizing? if that’s the right word? Misogynistic very much too. I find the message that; “no matter what other people think of you or what you think of yourself, you will never be anything more or less than a regular being” both comforting in itself and a neat subversion of the original VdM since one of my favorite aspects of Rise’s writing is how subversive it is.

I can’t wait to show you more of her! Esp how she interacts with the Mad Dogs!

Bonus; Design Details!

All the turtles have shape motifs; square, rectangle, circle, triangle, her’s is a Raindrop shape! Combined with her electric motifs she’s a bit of a storm cloud lol

The Turtles’s shells are s-shaped and follow the curvature of a human spine, I draw Venus’s shell really distorted and disproportionate to this since she’s inorganic.

Similarly, while the other turtles shells and plastrons are like boxes that contain their whole torsos, thon’s kinda just sits on top of her torso, where her plastron ends and her legs begin don’t line up. It started out as an anatomical error but i liked how it made her look distorted and off somehow. (Kinda gruesome, but it kinda helps her look like a bloated corpse, which is what she is aksjks) To be clearer, the difference between how the mad dogs’ shells/plastrons/bridges(sides) are attached to their bodies vs Venus’s is like the difference between a bodysuit and a t-shirt.

#rottmnt #artists on tumblr #digital art #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #venus de milo #venus tmnt #venus de milo tmnt #my art <3 #gonetoforks’ art

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fairymousse · 8 months ago

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Gloam Eyed Queen in Shadow of the Erdtree

tl;dr - my guess is that this woman is the Gloam-Eyed Queen, and she will be an important factor within the game

We see her along side the dude from the end of the trailer, the one who’s been torn apart by the big sword thing, so she is meant to be important. The question arises… who is she?

The Gloam Eyed Queen. Like I can’t think of anyone else who it could be

We know that GEQ was an empyrean, and as we can see, all known empyreans have some form of eye trauma, at least as far as we know. And conveniently, the woman in the images eyes are obscured by a veil, but we can see that they are faintly stained. Like Frenzy ending Melina.

Now, as Garrulous Goldmask put forward in his GEQ video, it is not impossible that GEQ is more a title than a single person, so Melina becomes the new GEQ, and this may be the old one. This is further aligned by this woman being likely pregnant, while the Godskin Swaddling Cloth item description reads:

The Gloam-Eyed Queen cradles newborn apostles swaddled in this cloth. Soon they will grow to become the death of the gods.

I understand that this isn’t much to go off of, but there are a few more things to consider.

So the man in gold, (I'll call him spiky for now), is stuck in a pretty nasty injury, with the weapon stuck in him matching the candelabra used by the omen type enemies on the bottom left. Now, other people have pointed out how it appears very similar to the Candletree Wooden Shield, which talks about cardinal sin, which in game we know as burning the Erdtree, an act that requires the Rune of Death to achieve.

At this point, I'd like to highly recommend SmoughTown's video on the Gloam Eyed Queen, which has given me a lot of info to work with. Within, he mentions how it is possible that the Godskins could be responsible for the first burning of the Erdtree, which aligns with the prophesy of Cardinal Sin. As well as this, he also mentions potential connections between the Godskin Apostles, and Volcano Manor, with a Noble guarding the Temple of Eighlay. And who else is associate with snakes in the DLC? Messmer.

Of course, I could be wrong about this, and I'd love more input on it, so feel free to let me know your theories if you'd like.

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #gloam eyed queen

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hananoami · 2 months ago

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OMGOMGOMG I AM SHOOO HABBY~ !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Not only did I get Zayne's [Doomsday] from the 10 Days With You login event, I also pulled for his [Eternal Attachment] birthday memory with my first FREE 10x! Thank you so much Dr. Greyson for your generous contribution towards my husbando fund!

I ended up using the other 10x before they got converted to Empyrean Wishes, just to see if I would get lucky with a back-to-back 5-star dream, but alas it was only that. A Dream 🥲 S'okie though, it'll push my pity count for the next limited-time banner.

I was already totes happy my beloved doctor came home early. These memories are so heckin' precious too boot as well. There were so many kisses shared between him and MC I literally squealed out of joy. His birthday memory actually made me tear up from how heartfelt it was. The man deserves all the happiness in the world fr fr.

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #eternal attachment #10 days with you #zayne #li shen #rei #lee seoeon #;sakura snapshots #;not me rambling into the void #destined reunion

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themanirealityshifter · 7 months ago

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My Empyrean DR Script (that I will write on here, so that I actually finish it 😭)

First Name: Sebastian

Middle Name: Fynn

Last Name: Riorson

Nickname(s): Seb; Sebby

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Human

Age: 23

Description: Black hair (wolfcut)(I love wolfcuts, and I don’t care if it’s impractical, I MISS MY LONG HAIR); Olive skin (even though I’m as pale as the moon in my CR); Black eyes flecked with lighter brown; Lean, muscular body (I need to be in shape here or I will die, so luckily I’m in control of this and can script that I’m not a blob that lays on the couch every single day); Top and bottom surgery scars (you bet your ass I have those); Fully transitioned (love that testosterone); Huge black dragon relic covering my back; Rebellion relic covering my chest; Lots of scars all over my body

Positive Trait(s): Intelligent (I need to be able to not be a dipshit and die immediately); Clever (same thing); Good memory (say bye bye to all those days of dissociation and maladaptive daydreaming in my CR, now I will remember EVERYTHING there); Quiet (of course I’m quiet, have to keep up the mysterious act, plus I’m too overstimulated and socially awkward for this shit); Thoughtful (my mind is always stuffed); Nice (even though I’m quiet and don’t talk much, I am pretty nice when you talk to me first)

Negative Trait(s)(yes, I’m gonna script them, just to give myself some flavor): Trusting (making friends wise, always end up getting hurt or stabbed in the back, literally and figuratively)

Dragon Type: Black Morningstartail (I JUST LOVED TAIRN SO MUCH, I HAD TO MAKE THE DRAGON I’M BONDED TO A BLACK MORNINGSTARTAIL TOO)

Dragon Name: Aodhan (do we know how to pronounce his name here? no. will we script that we do know it? yes)

Signet Power(s): Time Manipulation (can go back in time) and Reality Manipulation (can make my imagination real life)

Weapon(s): Daggers and Swords (I love me some sharp things)

Parent(s): None (dead)(it’s literal canon that Xaden’s parents died[along with all the other parents that were part of the rebellion]so yeah)

Sibling(s): Xaden Riorson; Liam Mairi (adoptive brother)

Other Family Member(s): Brodhi Durran (cousin)

Best Friend(s): Xaden Riorson (I’m besties with my brother, I know, I can do that); Liam Mairi (same thing); Violet Sorrengail (I’m the one who ends up being the body guard for her, not Liam); Brodhi Durran (I love my family); Ridoc Gamlyn (I adore him, it’s gonna be interesting all the talks we will have [I am scared that most of them will be about sex he had or people that he likes, help me]); Heaton (I love my non-binary pals); Garrick Tavis

Friend(s): Imogen Cardulo (I love her hair); Rhiannon Matthias (bisexual queen, go girl)

Partner(s): None (I am single forever, thank the almighty gays)

Gender Identity: TransGuy

Romantic Orientation: Aromantic

Sexual Orientation: Asexual

Other Orientation(s): Ambiamorous; Panalterous; Panaesthetic

Extra Fact(s): Liam does not die (I was sobbing when it happened); Homework is effortless and easy always (I don’t want to work too hard or make it take up so much time); I am a skilled painter/artist (something to do when I’m not doing homework, have training, have secret rebellion meetings with Xaden and the rest, or guarding Violet); I wear ear plugs a lot of the time (because I’m overstimulated a lot, but I still manage); Probably have some anxiety and PTSD (not that I don’t have anxiety already and probably have some form of PTSD here-); I keep my head easily (no panicking for me, though, even though I know, realistically, that contrasts with the anxiety, but I want to live and also have my sparkle at the same time); I know how to pronounce Aodhan’s name perfectly; Garrick and Imogen are together (Imogen needs her love too); I cannot die; None of my best friends or friends can die; Xaden, Liam, and Brodhi cannot die

Specific Affirmations For This DR: “I am with Aodhan”; “I am Xaden’s brother”; “I am in Basgiath College”; “I am in my dorm room”; “I am training with Ridoc”

Safe Word/Phrase: “Put the lime in the coconut and shake it all up.” (don’t ask)

Me in this DR (Picrew Form):

Probably will add to this more. Maybe will post some individual scenarios for this DR.

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ashleybenlove · 7 months ago

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Hiccup, 23, 24.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

All of them.

I could keep going.

And that doesn't include the forehead touch from HTTYD2, THE Touch in the first movie, the hug in GOTNF, some of the sweet stuff in HTTYD3 (regardless of how I feel about that movie...)

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

Hiro Hamada from Big Hero 6's a good choice.

Violet Sorrengail from The Empyrean series by Rebecca Yarros

Eragon from The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini

Jerin from A Brother's Price by Wen Spencer. Like, Hiccup if he had a fuckton of siblings. And marries 10 sisters. (Sororal polygamy in a society with low-male birth rates)

This was very hard originally because I was like... every smart guy nerdy character. And then kinda blanked on all the shows I've ever watched.

Nate Silva from Power Rangers Beast Morphers (though I bet I could pick more from Power Rangers lol. But 30 seasons, half of which I've seen...)

I could easily say Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation and Liz Lemon from 30 Rock (I literally forgot her name I had to google lollll) because both have to lead wild and crazy people.

Maybe David Rose from Schitt's Creek if he was a touch more prissy.

Dr. Jack Hodgins from Bones.

We could also be here all day lollll. This could easily become naming the male half of OTPs.

Character ask game

#askbox #theflyingredrobot #fictional characters ask meme #how to train your dragon #hiccup

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acotars · 2 years ago

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books read in 2023

january

sweep in peace by ilona andrews

one fell sweep by ilona andrews

a court of mist and fury by sarah j. maas

sweep of the blade by ilona andrews

sweep with me by ilona andrews

my best friend’s exorcism by grady hendrix

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

i’m glad my mom died by jennette mccurdy

love and other words by christina lauren

sweep of the heart by ilona andrews

the only living girl on earth by charles yu

witches get stuff done by molly harper

you had me at hola by alexis daria

her vigilante by lillian lark

inconvenient daughter by lauren j. sharkey

anon pls. by deuxmoi

you are eating an orange. you are naked. by sheung-king

legends & lattes by travis baldree

bad vibes only (and other things i bring to the table) by nora mcinerny

signs of cupidity by raven kennedy

bonds of cupidity by raven kennedy

crimes of cupidity by raven kennedy

february

exciting times by naoise dolan

sweethand by n.g. peltier

you made a fool of death with your beauty by akwaeke emezi

something wilder by christina lauren

highly suspicious and unfairly cute by talia hibbert

you deserve each other by sarah hogle

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max goldstone

would you rather by allison ashley

march

meet me in the margins by melissa ferguson

king of battle and blood by scarlett st. clair

the exotic by hampton sides

river of shadows by karina halle

alone with you in the ether by olivie blake

lovelight farms by b.k. borison

the soulmate equation by christina lauren

before i let go by kennedy ryan

haunting adeline by h.d. carlson

the lies i tell by julie clark

one jump at a time by nathan chen

our wives under the sea by julia armfield

all systems red (the murderbot diaries #1) by martha wells

before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi

april

funny you should ask by elissa sussman

make a scene by mimi grace

sweeter than chocolate by lizzie shane

the kiss quotient by helen hoang

my favorite half-night stand by christina lauren

romantic comedy by curtis sittenfeld

icebreaker by a.l. graziadei

the wedding proposal by john swansiger

circling back to you by julie tieu

by the book by amanda sellet

a lady’s guide to mischief and mayhem by manda collins

love in the time of serial killers by alicia thompson

if the shoe fits by julie murphy

whispers of you by catherine cowles

the kiss curse by erin sterling

by the book by jasmine guillory

honey & spice by bolu babalola

one night on the island by josie silver

the bodyguard by katherine center

the reunion by kayla olson

the neighbor favor by kristina forest

crooked kingdom by leigh bardugo

do i know you? by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka

just my type by falon ballard

delilah green doesn’t care by ashley herring blake

happy place by emily henry

dating dr. dil by nisha sharma

icebreaker by hannah grace

count your lucky stars by alexandria bellefleur

stone cold fox by rachel koller croft

fake it till you bake it by jamie wesley

may

the dead romantics

motherthing by ainslie hogarth

the woman in the library by sulari gentill

artificial condition (the murderbot diaries #2) by martha wells

the last word by taylor adams

you shouldn’t have come here by jeneva rose

june

fourth wing (the empyrean #1) by rebecca yarros

the very secret society of irregular witches by sangu mandanna

love, theoretically by ali hazelwood

july

the traitor queen (the bridge kingdom #2) by danielle l. jensen

the beast by katee robert

baldur's gate: descent into avernus by by james introcaso et. al

forget me not by julie soto

the wishing game by meg shaffer

august

the true love experiment by christina lauren

pachinko by min jin lee

almond by sohn won-pyung, translated by joosun lee

hook, line, and sinker by tessa bailey

september

hey, u up? (for a serious relationship): how to turn your booty call into your emergency contact by emily axford & brian murphy

everyone knows your mother is a witch by rivka galchen

fangs by sarah andersen

a room with a view by e.m. forster

juniper bean resorts to murder by gracie ruth mitchell

one's company by ashley hutson

the mysterious affair at styles by agatha christie

solita: a gothic romance by vivien rainn

you, again by kate goldbeck

the undertaking of hart and mercy by megan bannen

my roommate is a vampire by jenna levine

the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

the vampires of el norte by isabel cañas

her body and other parties by carmen maria machado

evil eye by etaf rum

the seven year slip by ashley poston

october

keeper of enchanted rooms by charlie n. holmberg

the serpent and the wings of night by carissa broadbent

shy by max porter

down comes the night by allison saft

the unfortunate side effects of heartbreak and magic by breanne randall

the hurricane wars by thea guanzon

november

a witch's guide to fake dating a demon by sarah hawley

the wake-up call by beth o'leary

when in rome by sarah adams

the view was exhausting by mikaella clements and onjuli datta

hello stranger by katherine center

practice makes perfect by sarah adams

do your worst by rosie danan

december

bookshops & bonedust by travis baldree

the fake mate by lana ferguson

final count: 127/100

#kate’s reading log #read in 2023*#a little late but i wanted to get this up here !!#i’ll update as i go so if you don’t want to see this just blacklist kate’s reading log :)#we hit character limit so i had to reformat lol

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thanksjro · 2 years ago

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #49 — Guys, This One Was Kinda Fucked Up

Sunder’s got his magic eyes in and is currently eating Skids’s brain. Not to worry though, because Dr. Rung of the Pious Pools, PhD, psy-op specialist and master of stick-fu, who goads people into shooting infants and also himself, is handling the situation.

Well, thank god we’re minding our Ps and Qs with the literal serial killer.

Sunder, of course, doesn’t see why Rung’s so upset, as he believes himself to be doing Skids a favor by unearthing his repressed memories. Honestly, I think if he’d asked first, Skids would’ve been all for it. Maybe not the cannibalism aspect of this activity, but the unearthing for sure.

Hopping back into those memories, we skip forward a bit, as Tarn comes in to check on Skids’s progress for fixing the teleport machine. He transforms, because we need to reiterate that he really fucking loves transforming. Snare is also here. You remember Snare? The man who’s never seen his feet? He’s here too. Weird that he keeps finding himself dealing with the worst of the Decepticon upper command.

Anyway, Skids and Tarn have worked out a little deal, where Skids fixes Grindcore’s teleporters, in exchange for the release of fifty Autobot prisoners. If Skids doesn’t manage to do it, Tarn will kill 500 prisoners as punishment. Which is sort of like decimation, with deci- times the slaughter. Luckily, Skids is god’s favorite little man, and Tarn seems aware of it, as he congratulates him on a job well done. Then he throws him back in his cell, where Quark is waiting to make fun of him for smiling like a doofus over having gotten in Tarn’s good graces.

Quark doesn’t trust Tarn to keep his word, and thinks that Skids is a fucking moron for having faith in the guy with all this power over their lives. Skids admits that while Tarn probably isn’t going to keep his word, it’s still better that their mass teleportation machine is working again, so that prisoners can at least be transported to do slave labor on other planets, where they’ll need to be fed and kept alive, unlike Grindcore.

That’s when the radio cuts on, playing a song that would one day become infamous for its implications— The Empyrean Suite.

...But I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiine!

Back in the present, Froid’s unlocking Sunder’s cell and taking off his handcuffs, just in time for the flamebots to show back up and tell him to cut that shit out. Sunder, of course, does his thing, and Rung and Skids watch in horror as something super gross happens off-panel, complete with wet, squishy SFX. Rung also transmits something via his recorder thumb, likely a warning to the others on the ship. But we won’t know for sure for a bit, because now we’re jumping forward in time.

Over in the maximum security section of the Lost Light’s brig, we finally see Mr. Pugface Charisma himself, strung up and restrained in a way reminiscent of how Alternate Rung was in the epilogue of the “Elegant Chaos” storyline, but decidedly hornier. Tailgate zips by on his hoverboard, apparently having woken up at some point. Seems like he’s doing fine, though, so I’m not too worried about how long he slept.

Tailgate isn’t thrilled to have run into Getaway, and is even more displeased when Getaway refuses to speak to him about what exactly is happening; everything is dark, everyone else has disappeared, someone’s graffitied the walls, and there’s a bunch of greebled orbs laying around.

Tailgate shows Getaway Cyclonus’s vial of innermost energon that he left by his bedside (aw, he does love him!), then tells Getaway to go fuck himself, punching the steel plate door to his cell and shattering the windows as he does. Of course, Getaway genuinely does have a reason for not speaking to Tailgate, so it’s not like he’s being intentionally petty.

Now who was the sadistic little bastard who decided that he needed his limbs off and voice taken away? This is some freak shit right here, this is borderline fetish material.

Tailgate goes to investigate one of the weird greeble orbs, and Rung, Skids, and Froid show up just in time to warn him not to touch it, as it’s actually one of the crew members, having been turned inside out, thanks to Sunder making them think that’s what shape they need to be. It’s fucked up. This is a fucked up storyline. Tailgate’s most worried about Cyclonus though, as should be clear by his vial lanyard. He grabs Rung by the arm and demands to know where his not-boyfriend is.

It turns out that after Megatron heard that a guy with eyeballs that make you turn into a bowl of haggis was loose onboard the ship, he turned the lights out and had everyone lock themselves in their rooms. So Cyclonus is probably in habsuite 14, staring out the window, which he was probably going to do anyway. Very little about today is switching up his standard routine.

Rung and company aren’t locked up because they’re looking for Chromedome, so he can put Skids’s memories into the proper lockbox in his head, seeing as he’s gonna die if he recalls them too fast. Rung’s also out here to yell at Froid, because he can’t fucking believe he’d go and get close to a guy who’s got Megatron turning out the lights and hiding. Froid, however, swears his motives are purely professional.

Skids starts groaning again, which means that Sunder is nearby, and sure enough, the brain goblin comes ‘round the corner not a moment later.

In the flashback, Tarn is congratulating Skids on a job well done, then shows him proof of the fifty prisoners having been let out of Grindcore, now roaming around in the Manganese Mountains. Because the last time Roberts had robots holed up in the mountains, it worked out so very well for everyone.

Skids tries to sweeten the deal for next time, but Tarn says that he’s no longer useful to have around, since he’s an Autobot, and Snare watched him do all the stuff that fixed the teleporters. However, Tarn would be loathe to let Skids’s good deed go unpunished.

Don’t worry about the corpses in the background; they’re part of the decor.

Skids, however, is a selfless little man, and he has the bright idea to ask if he can give his free ride to someone else.

Back in the present, Froid is trying to run away from the monster he helped create, and it gets him about as far as you’d expect, as he explodes into a beautiful spaghetti flower and then orbs up. It looks like Rung, Skids, and Tailgate are next, but luckily there’s still a hero left to save the day.

Careful now, Tailgate, you’re a (possibly(accidentally)) married man!

Thunderclash and Megatron chase after Sunder, taking a moment to note that one of the balls in this corridor is Rodimus, while Chromedome sticks his fingers in the holes in Skids’s compartmentalization. Rung and Tailgate also run off to face Sunder, Rung claiming to have an ace up his sleeve.

Megatron and Thunderclash catch up to Sunder in the shuttle bay as he’s entering his ship, which makes Megatron remember something very important: Septre was a fucking ship.

Honestly, I’m surprised this doesn’t happen more often.

Thunderclash isn’t concerned with Sunder now being the size of a McMansion, claiming that he must be scared, considering he’s stopped using his black speech bubbles. Apparently those were meant to convey a “Mortilus impersonation”. Why they know what their gods are supposed to sound like isn’t addressed.

Sunder makes a speech about being too hardcore to be afraid of death, because he’s a mnemosurgeon and eats memories and flies around in his brother’s corpse. Then he orbs Thunderclash, husband of millions, thus officially barring himself from the kingdom of heaven. This is the point where Rung attacks him with his fleet of model ships, which are apparently also RC planes. This plan only works for a moment, because, again, Sunder is currently the size of a house.

Megatron, having been knocked down in the direction of the fusion cannon Thunderclash had been wearing, is in the perfect position to strap it on and blow this giant hungry bitch away. However, he probably knows that if he resorts to violence, Rodimus will take away his Rodimus Star for abandoning his evil ways. Tailgate, no doubt frustrated by Megatron trying to talk down the guy who keeps haggising the crew, takes matters into his own hands.

No, he couldn’t do that before. Tailgate himself isn’t sure why exactly he can suddenly pick up midlife crisis purchases and hurl them with enough force to incapacitate serial killers. We’ll have to get Velocity on this, since she’s the only doctor left on the ship.

Because Rung is resigning.

When Rung sent that recording of Froid and his conversation, as a way to warn Megatron of the danger on the ship, it also included their little argument over being “too close” to patients, and Rung’s delicensing. Knowing that more than one other person is privy to his crimes, Rung’s decided to beat things to the punch and retire, as if the Lost Light could afford to lose their mental health specialist, even if he does suck absolute dick. Megatron seems to see it that way, anyhow, suggesting that Rung still tell his patients about not being licensed, but let them decide if they still want to see him anyway.

Rung calls him a stupid fuck in the most polite way possible, then leaves, just as Rodimus is arriving. Megatron makes a pun, then we get the skinny on what’s going on with Tailgate. As best as Velocity can figure, the background radiation caused by quantum travel, combined with being stressed the fuck out by Cyclonus being shot and seemingly killed in front of him, caused his spark to evolve. Which is a much better deal than what I’d assume that sort of thing would do for a human being. I figure that’d be a heart attack situation.

Rodimus wants to know what happened with Sunder in the shuttle bay, and why Megatron tried to talk him down instead of firing. Megatron’s figured that he’s tried the way of violence for the last several million years, and he’s really trying to be better than that now, even if it gets people hurt. He’s a pacifist now. Which sucks, because it’s probably going to bite both him and those around him in the ass later, and also he’ll never be Vash the Stampede, so he really shouldn’t even bother trying.

Getting back to the flashback (sort of, anyway; Skids isn’t remembering this next part, it’s more for us as the readers to get closure) Quark’s queued up for the teleporter, having been given Skids’s spot. He’s gonna be doing hard labor on “New Tarn”. Skids is also here, having apparently touched Tarn’s cold, dead heart with his kindness. Everyone loads up into the teleporter, and it looks like everything’s gonna be just fine!

I said EVERYTHING’S GONNA BE JUST FINE.

The music comes on, significantly louder in this chamber, and Skids is suddenly teleported out and away, Quark screaming for him as he disappears. He arrives in Tarn’s office, where he’s leaning on his desk and drinking out of his fancy little decanter, waiting for the show to start. Skids knows by this point that the machine he was sent to fix was in actuality a smelter, and Tarn explains that they need that fancy shmancy sentio metallico to build bodies for their upcoming MTO forces. Then he drags Skids over to the window and melts the belief in a loving god out of his head.

And that’s a series wrap on Quark! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

...Nobody tell Brainstorm about this.

#transformers #MTMTE #issue 49 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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