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that-house · 1 year

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Ran the first proper Field of White Flowers playtest the other day.

I stuck them in the Kill Six Billion Demons universe, because i love that setting and its general aesthetics and power level are perfect matches for FoWF (tbh K6BD was a significant inspiration for FoWF)

They were mercenaries hired by the Repossessions Guild to break into the house of a mob boss who’d gone missing and take everything that wasn’t nailed down.

TLDR: it was fun

in depth breakdown of what happened below the cut because i don't wanna nuke everyone's dash <3

For those with no context: Field of White Flowers is a high fantasy high power tabletop roleplaying game system geared towards huge dramatic anime fight scenes, wuxia bullshit, and feats of tremendous heroism and villainy. It draws inspiration from the webcomic Kill Six Billion Demons, fighting games, a vast slew of other roleplaying game systems, and the time-honored video gaming tradition of having a climactic duel in a field of white flowers.

The big thing I was worried about going into the playtest was just that it wouldn’t be fun. I’d had a lot of fun designing it and talking about it, but until you play the game properly it’s impossible to tell whether the game is actually fun.

Like, take Lancer. I love Lancer, I love the design philosophy behind it, I love theorycrafting builds for Lancer. Actually playing through a Lancer combat is like getting a cavity filled without anesthetic. How do 4 rounds with 4 players and no roleplay take 6 hours? We will never know

Our cast, in order of introduction:

Abzu, Newborn God: a young ocean god seeking to prove himself to his brethren. flavorwise he was a waterbender, mechanically he was a fairly supportive debuff engine focusing on lowering enemies’ stats with Chill. Attempts to get Abzu's player to join tumblr have been unsuccessful thus far.

Alizoba, King of Miscellany: sapient pile of trash looking for more stuff to add to themself. had a build based around Baiting enemies into bad moves and following up with huge combos. Alizoba was played by @cyrus-swag.

Ophidia, Serpent Queen of Lead: cowgirl and gun witch, mostly just here to kill people and get money. build revolved (haha gun pun) around throwing flashbangs, vanishing, and reappearing somewhere else with a huge gun. Ophidia was played by @fearlesscomfort.

Sixgill Griseus, The Bartender No One Fucks With: shark man who is a bartender/bouncer/chef/waiter/etc at his bar. magically-enhanced death glare can intimidate inanimate objects and shut down people's nervous systems. Sixgill was played by @historically-innaccurate-dialga.

The events of the session:

Abzu immediately murders someone for polluting a canal

gradually all met up and made their way to the house they were going to rob

encountered two devils, the tiny chainsaw-wielding Ozzy and the colossal Scunge who wielded a machete and a harmonica, guarding the house

Scunge was tackled clean through the door of the house and pinned down by Sixgill until he simply keeled over dead from the force of the bartender's stare

Ozzy mauled Abzu and Ophidia, and was about to coup de grace the latter when Alizoba summoned a building on top of him

Ozzy and Scunge served as a test of the Power Couple mechanic, in which two combatants are represented by a single statblock, one of which dies and changes the statblock when they collectively reach half HP

Inside the house, they encountered a vast horde of living dead who had been employed as meth cooks and house guards. They fought them off for a while before Ophidia finished off the last forty or so by briefly stopping time and lining up a headshot on each one

The zombies were an example of the horde mechanic for representing a TON of enemies with one statblock and a few minions. They worked great

Next was a hall of huge swinging blades, because i wanted to include a few simple skill challenges.

Sixgill just used his enhanced senses to walk through the hall, only getting barely clipped by the last one.

Abzu attempted to freeze the mechanisms, but they exerted too much force and shattered the ice.

Ophidia solved the "there are several thousand pounds of high velocity metal in front of us" with her own several hundred pounds of high velocity metal (she shot the blades with her minigun until they broke)

The next room was a treasure room, with tons of weapons in glass cases. Sixgill broke one of the cases to get a harpoon, causing the rest of the weapons to drop through the floor and poison gas to pour into the room

Abzu waited out the poison in a bubble, while Alizoba summoned a fridge to hide in. Sixgill stared the fucking poison down and the very air said "you know what fuck that I'm not getting paid enough." Ophidia tried to fire off enough guns to replace the air near her with gunsmoke, which went badly

the final thing we had time for in this session (we're going to finish it another day) was a room with an enchanted idol in the middle, which compelled everyone who saw it to want it.

Ophidia burned a fifth of her HP to teleport over to it instantly and take it before anyone else could, and we ended the session as they walked into the next room, which contained a devil named BIG BOY (all caps)

The good stuff:

combat flows quickly from player to player, turns are short but impactful. it's not a tactical wargame, there's no grid or elaborate line of sight rules, but decisions about when to bring up damaged allies and whether or not to take short term disadvantages for long term benefit mattered

even though the system has a lot of room for optimization and certain characters were definitely stronger than others, no one felt useless even with bad rolls

the general Math of the system worked out pretty well. people were critting about as often as I wanted them to be, the HP amount for the players felt right

people had fun (the most important thing)

other important thing: it filled a niche that no other system i've played has filled, and did it well. the experience might have been different if we'd used another system, but it would not have been enriched by the change. Field of White Flowers just. fundamentally. works.

The stuff that needs improvement:

in retrospect it should have been obvious that, given that at its core the game is designed to be roughly balanced (especially at lower levels), making enemies that are on even footing with the players would make the combat REALLY fucking difficult. That was a silly on my part <3 the first encounter was not meant to be that hard. I halved the HP of the second encounter and it was much more reasonable

the mental overhead of certain builds is a little too high. the character sheet handles a lot of things for the players, but some builds have numbers that fluctuate frequently in combat

debuffs didn't quite feel impactful enough on enemies. main issue is that many of the durations are too short, leading to a lot of debuffs just sort of feeling bad when you use your whole turn to apply them, while other debuffs are just VERY VERY VERY good (looking at you Shock)

current out of combat resolution system is very bare-bones (skill checks are roll a few dice against a DC), and either a sliding scale of success or a push mechanic would likely augment it

nerfed Knife Juggler because holy fuck it was so OP for how easy it is to obtain

The nice thing about game design is you can make a system you want to play. Field of White Flowers ticks soooo many of my boxes, and it proved to be pretty easy to pick up, fun to play, and with enough depth of content to keep people talking about it for a good while after the session.

thanks for reading, and always remember: Pariah Stance allows you to tick down the countdown on Forbidden Technique faster

#field of white flowers #that last statement is an inside joke about the fact that Pariah Stance has no actual upsides #rpg design

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boywizard · 2 years

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somehow despite tumblr making me unfollow you accidentally your post still showed up on my dashboard??? like one of your original posts, no notes, not blazed or anything, showed up on my dash but with the little follow button next to your name and i was like ".....I GUESS??"

thats soo weird. i think thats happening to other ppl too tbh like some of my mutuals 'arent following me' but my posts are still showing up on their dashes bit. tumblr work properly challenge (impossible)

#mailbox #bread--quest

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cloverstellar · 6 months

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tumblr work properly challenge IMPOSSIBLE

#rose talks

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bbqphantom · 10 months

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Spotify works properly while using the Tumblr app challenge [IMPOSSIBLE]

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

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Master Post - The Untamed

All of my CQL original content! This consolidates & replaces my previous CQL masterposts.

You MAY repost any gifs or images from ANY of my “Restless Rewatch” posts as long as you credit me (Canary3d) or my blog (@canary3d-obsessed) somewhere in your post or comment. For non-Restless Rewatch images, please ask me first. (If you’re using Tumblr’s weird gif feature there’s no need to ask because that embeds a credit and it’s impossible to tell if it came from a RR post or not).

Restless Rewatch Gifs and Memes

Restless Rewatch Full Posts

Now also on AO3: Restless Rewatch: The Untamed by Canary3d

I’ve updated these links with gaps between the A and B parts, so hopefully they will work properly in the phone app, unlike before. If they’re still not working, please drop me a note, thanks!

Ep 40 (part one) and (part 2) (NEW)

Ep 39 (part one) and (part 2) and (part 3)

Ep 38 (A) and (B)

Ep 37 (A) and (B)

Ep 36 (A) and (B)

Ep 35 (A) and (B)

Ep 34 (A)

Ep 33 (A) and (B)

Ep 32 (A) and (B)

Ep 31 (A) and (B)

Ep 30 (A) and (B)

Ep 29 (A) and (B)

Ep 28 (A)

Ep27 (A) and (B)

Ep26 (A) and (B)

Ep25 (A) and (B)

Ep24 (A) and (B)

Ep23 (A) and (B)

Ep22 (A) and (B)

Ep21(A) and (B)

Ep20 (A) and (B) and (C)

Ep19 (A) and (B)

Ep18: (A) and (B)

Ep17 (A) and (B)

Ep 16: (A) and (B)

Ep15 (A)

Ep14 (A) and (B)

Ep13 (A) and (B)

Ep12 (A) and (B) and EXTRAS

Ep11 (A) and (B)

Ep10 (A) and (B)

Ep09 (A) and (B)

Ep08 (A) and (B)

Ep07 (A) and (B)

Ep06 (A) and (B)

Ep05 (A) and (B)

Ep04 (A) and (B)

Ep03 (A)

Ep02 (A)

Ep01 (A)

Restless Writing Prompts

Clipper’s Guide to The Untamed

Mo Dao Zu Shi Adaptations Available in English

Parallels

I love digging into the many, many visual, stylistic, and thematic parallels in The Untamed.

A cave, a baby, a fever

Wrist Holding: Parting & Reunion

The Blurry Sword of Doom

Bichen at Wei Wuxian’s Throat

The Honor of a Glance (more of a “see how time changes things” than a parallel, exactly)

Troublemaker (ditto above)

Letting Go

Arm Holding on Mount Yeet - Gif Overlay Challenge

Protective Lans

Putting Lan Zhan to Bed

A Gentleman’s Revenge

Answer Me

When the Man Comes Around

I Am Leaving

You Touch It You Buy It

The Sky is Vast and the Earth is Wide

Pay It Forward

Wen Ning’s Boat Rides

(Here’s a cut so I don’t kill your dashboard)

Holding on/Letting go

Don’t Cry

Having a Spat, Yunmeng Style

Like Father, Like Son

Let Me Carry You

Never

Great Idea, Thanks Bro

Assorted Gifs & Memes & Stuff

Mood: Serious

Lan Wangji Watching Wei Wuxian, Episode 33

Wei Wuxian screaming with Xiao Zhan’s voice

Rainy Argument 1 | 2 | 3

Rainy

World’s Second-Worst Party Guest

Wei Wuxian is here to make you feel better

Yu Ziyuan’s daughter

If you don’t trust me, how can you help me?

Do You Want Revenge?

Wei Wuxian Blindfolding Jiang Cheng

Contemplating the Future

Which unlucky family’s place did you take?

Hands, Episode 16

Zidian Beatdown

A Man Should Have Scars

Trauma Survivor Wei Wuxian

Mood: Neutral

Reciting the Lan rules at the Wen indoctrination

Question and Answer Time

Lan Zhan, do you like rabbits?

Right in Front of Lil Apple’s Apple Salad

Jiang Cheng and his facial expressions

Besties

Wei Wuxian wants you to know: you’re awesome

LWJ looking at WWX

I adore you//Fucking hell

Color Palette Challenge

Blindfolded

The many loves of Wei Wuxian

Significant Glances

Flute Fixing

Study Time in Yiling

Single Plank Bridge (Untamed/Yanxi Palace)

Soft Papa

WWX Jumps into Battle

Wen Siblings @ Burial Grounds

Flower Boys

Flower Boy Nie Huaisang

Fisherman Nie Huaisang

Kicking Your Ass: Teen Edition

Kicking Your Ass: Adult Edition

This Beautiful Hothead

Mood: Silly

The Adventures of Paperman (NEW)

New Problems Have Appeared (NEW)

Let’s have a cooking sequence but make it terrible

That Twitter/Tumbler Meme but it’s CQL

Reactions to Sisi’s Story, Ep 45

Wangxian Communication

The Untamed as Dear Prudie Letters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Curses, cockblocked again

The Tuber of Disappointment

Wei Wuxian & Wen Kexing

Wen Qing and the Lan Nymphs

No Time for Necromancy

When the landlord says it’s ok to repaint

How did you express the pain (WOH spoiler!)

The Untamed as Psychology Today Articles

Voice Actor Wang Kai Yelling at Xiao Zhan

Half-Incorrect Subtitles

Wangxian Brothel AU

Nie Mingjue Yells Merry Christmas

Wei Wuxian making out with his Lunch

Wei Wuxian x Unnecessarily Erotic Drinking

Nie Huaisang Reporting In

Strong Hanguang Jun

Jiang Cheng’s Purple Jammies

Wei Wuxian searches Xue Yang

Adolescent’s observation

Failmaster Lan Qiren

Oh No He Noticed

Super Regularly

Oh Crap! Act Normal!

Emergency Hairpieces

Acceptability Review Meeting Episode 45/46

Acceptability Review Meeting Episode 45

Fanvids

Drinking, Drinking, Drinking

Xue Yang/Dandy Highwayman

Fight Moves/You Spin Me

Wei Wuxian/Not an Addict

Fanfic

Fractured Spirit (Warning: EXPLICIT)

Other Stuff

Adoption meta

#the untamed #canary3d-original #this combines all my previous untamed masterposts #into one untamed master masterpost #masterpost

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btsvsmysanity · 2 years

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While You Were Sleeping

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung

Content Warnings: Consensual Somnophilia, Anal Sex

Other Tags: Established Relationship

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Taehyung's not happy about having to work the night shift but luckily, Jungkook knows how to make him feel better

Prompt: Somnophilia

A/N: I used Taekook as I wrote them in my fic "Hold Me Tight (Before I Let You Go)" but this can be read as a standalone.

Also, this is my first time posting to tumblr so I’m lowkey nervous

And thank you to @bangtanwritingbingo for the bingo challenge

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37942315

Fic below the cut due to sensitive content

Taehyung looked at his work rota for the following month and groaned.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Jungkook asked him, eyes flicking away from the art documentary he was watching on TV.

It was still something of a novelty to be able to see Jungkook able to truly relax in a home that was all theirs. It couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else with all of Jungkook’s artwork framed on the walls.

“They’re putting me on nights again.”

Jungkook paused the TV to give him his full attention, “I thought you liked working nights?”

“I did it because Hoseok worked nights and then it was convenient to be nocturnal when I was trying to see you,” he explained. “But now, you’re here, and gorgeous-” he pecked Jungkook’s lips “-and all I do is think about you.”

“Do you get yourself all worked up thinking about me while you’re at work?” Jungkook murmured in his ear, running a hand down his chest.

“I do. But then I get home and you’re fast asleep, and then I can’t sleep.”

“Well, what if you…” Jungkook trailed off, tugging on his earlobe.

“What?”

“Came home and fucked me anyway?”

“While you’re asleep? I don’t know, Kookie…”

“Why not? I’m telling you that it’s okay. And think about how pretty I’ll look, completely and utterly compliant…” Jungkook lifted a leg over Taehyung’s lap to straddle him with his arms around his neck “...and I know you think I’m cute when I’ve just woken up…”

“You’re a menace.”

“I’ll take that as an agreement.”

A couple of weeks later, Taehyung came home from his first night shift of the month desperate for Jungkook.

When he let himself into the bedroom, he found him lying on his back in bed, with one leg bent over the top of the duvet. In the half-light of the early morning, there was enough light to see as his eyes travelled up Jungkook’s smooth, bare leg to the black, lacey lingerie he wore.

Taehyung wet his lips as he padded across the floor to where Jungkook’s head rested on the pillow, hair fanning out.

“Are you awake, sweetheart?” he whispered, brushing the hair off his forehead.

Jungkook didn’t make any indication that he had heard him, so Taehyung stripped himself of his jeans and pulled the duvet back to climb on top of him.

He really was pretty like this- his entire body completely relaxed, lips slack and thick eyelashes fanning out across the very tops of his cheekbones. Over the years, Taehyung had seen Jungkook asleep many times and it had always made his heart ache. There was a time when it was the only time he ever got to see him so at ease. In his dreams, he was far away from all the things that hurt him while he was awake.

Not wanting to wake him up (because he knew Jungkook had spent many hours that day working on commissions for buyers to help keep a roof over their heads), Taehyung resisted the urge to kiss those soft lips and instead carefully tugged his underwear down.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered when he saw the buttplug.

But he couldn’t have said he was overly surprised Jungkook had tried to make this as easy as possible for him.

Still, he knew Jungkook couldn’t reach that sweet-spot properly by himself so he would have to make it up to him.

Without fuss, he pulled the buttplug out and dropped it onto the bed beside him before lining up to slip inside, gripping loosely onto Jungkook’s hips.

Jungkook had prepped himself to perfection, loose enough that he could easily thrust into him while still tight enough that there was a clench around his cock. Thinking about Jungkook all night at work had had him palming his crotch on the drive home and then seeing him laid out for him had made him achingly hard.

Gritting his teeth against the moans building at the back of his throat, Taehyung rolled his hips steadily, watching as his cock slipped in and out of Jungkook. Part of him begged to go faster, harder but he was worried about disturbing Jungkook too much.

Still, Jungkook began to stir, fingers twitching as his torso twisted slightly like he was going to roll over and bury his face in the pillow- something Taehyung knew he was likely to do whenever he was woken up.

“Taehyung…” he slurred, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes.

Taehyung braced his hands on either side of Jungkook’s head so he could lean down to kiss his forehead, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“S’okay…I could wake up like this more often…” He lazily rolled his hips up, urging Taehyung onwards. “Feels good…”

Now that Jungkook was awake and aware of what was happening, his own cock had hardened against his stomach. Usually, Taehyung could make him cum without touching him but that took time and that wasn’t a luxury he was currently willing to indulge, so he took him in hand and pumped his fist in time with the movement of hips.

Loosening the leash that he’d been keeping on himself, Taehyung’s hips snapped erratically against the back of Jungkook’s thighs.

“You were right, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.”

Soft moans cascaded from Jungkook’s lips as he came at Taehyung’s praise and Taehyung was quick to follow, milking himself inside of him.

When he pulled out, every part of his body felt wonderfully loose and at ease. But he couldn’t collapse into bed with Jungkook yet- he knew Jungkook wouldn’t appreciate waking up properly to a cum covered T-shirt.

Blearily, he complained as Taehyung pulled it over his head.

“I’m cold,” Jungkook pouted, blindly reaching out for Taehyung.

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up, sweetheart,” he murmured, flopping down onto the mattress.

Despite his complaints, Jungkook had fallen back asleep by the time Taehyung was pulling him into his arms to finally get some sleep himself.

#btsbingo2022 #bts smut #consensual somnophilia #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung

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melanie-adia-of-the-multiverse · 2 years

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Rainbows After The Tempest: Chapter 5 & Epilogue

Summary: Even the best of relationships hit a snag once in a while. The important thing to keep in mind is how to untangle the knot and move forward.

Part 3 of Light and Tenderness Verse

Chapter 5 of 5

Pairing: Logicality

Word Count: 4,392

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff

Chapter Warnings: Some self-doubt and mentions of/references to arguing/conflict/crying (doesn't actually happen on scene), and I think that's it, really. If there are any I missed I will make sure to add them

Author’s Note: So, as is always the case in writing, we’ve reached the end of another story. It's hard for me to believe that I've actually completed my first multi-chaptered fic (even though it was short), and I'm proud that I accomplished this challenge I set for myself. I'm a little sad as well that it's over, but I guess that just means that I have to move onto my next story, whether it be one in this series or something new entirely. I've already got some other ideas to tinker around with, so I'm sure my writing muscles will be kept busy. :)

As stated in the A/N of my first chapter, I said that there was a very special reason why I wrote this story, and I will divulge it here now. Today happens to be the day when my parents are celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary, a monumental relationship milestone. In a way, I see my parents as Logicality incarnate: my father as Logan but with Patton's sense of humour, and my mother as Patton but with Logan's grumpiness. Different as night and day, constantly clashing but always with love and care for each other. Because of how fundamentally different they are, their union should be an impossibility, and yet here they've managed to make it work up until now. And here I stand as physical proof of their union. Their dedication to each other and their commitment to communication and setting boundaries never ceases to amaze me, and I hope for a union of my own that is as similar to theirs someday. Obviously it's not perfect, and there are some parts of their relationship that I take note of to not do for myself/do differently, but I'm happy and grateful for them that they still love each other, and I hope they continue to do so for many more years.

Anyways, I've rambled on enough. I don't know when I'll next have another story up, but I'll be back soon once I do. Again, if not with this series, then something else. That's not to say that this series is over; inspiration just has to hit me. But I want to come back. I want to keep sharing. I want to keep writing. After many years of neglect, Sanders Sides revived my liking for it, so I want to maintain this momentum while it lasts, hopefully for a long time.

Until then, again, thank you for your time, kind words and interactions, take care, and keep being safe.

AO3 Link

Part 1: AO3 Tumblr

Part 2: AO3 Tumblr

First Previous

Logan was jolted awake from his slumber by a loud shout and banging. He blinked blearily in confusion and immediately bit back a groan at the stiffness and aches in his limbs and muscles he’d rightfully expected. Patton in turn was woken up by Logan’s sudden movement and blinked owlishly.

“Wuzgoin’on?” he mumbled into Logan’s shirt.

Logan reached out a hand to pick up his phone to check the time, wincing at the cracks that ensued in his joints as he noted that it was about 9AM. After slipping his phone into his pocket, he fumbled and managed to get ahold of his glasses and shoved them onto his face. Then he picked up the other pair and held them up in front of Patton, who was in the middle of scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Patton accepted them with a thankful hum and slipped them on.

When they opened their eyes properly, Patton and Logan immediately winced in discomfort and swapped glasses.

“Man, we really seem to have a bad habit of doin’ that,” said Patton once both of their visions cleared.

Logan covered his mouth with a hand to stifle a yawn. “You know, I’ve often seen Thomas’ artistically-inclined fans depicting you with circular-shaped glasses in their artwork. If you ever decide to do another wardrobe change, that could be a possible consideration.”

Patton pursed his lips and rested his chin on top of Logan’s sternum as he considered Logan’s suggestion. “Yeah, I’ve seen those, too. And I do like the idea. But…honestly, I kinda like how we have the same glasses.”

Logan chuckled and reached up to brush Patton’s waves out of his face. “Honestly, me too.”

Patton beamed at Logan and nuzzled into Logan’s touch. Logan smiled back at Patton fondly, stroking his cheek with his index finger.

The sweet moment was short-lived, however, due to more loud commotion upstairs, making them remember why they’d woken up in the first place. From the tone, they were able to tell that it was Roman doing the yelling.

“What is going on up there?” Logan muttered, looking up in the direction of the stairs.

Patton followed his gaze, looking apprehensive. “I hope it’s nothing bad,” he said worriedly.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Remus probably pulled a prank on Roman during the night and Roman’s just found out.”

Then they heard another voice join in with Roman’s. Not as loud but just as surprised at whatever it was they were surprised about. Virgil’s. The couple shared a look with each other.

Then they heard footsteps thundering along the upstairs hallway and down the stairs until Roman came into view, a bewildered expression on his face. He stopped short on the landing when he spotted Logan and Patton lying on the couch.

“Teach! Padre! Why’re you down here? Did you – y’know what, never mind. Not important. Did you see it?!”

“See what?”

“The thing!”

“Thing? What ‘thing’? What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, c’mon! Come look!”

Roman rushed forward and all but yanked Logan and Patton off of each other and the couch (both Sides forgot sometimes the extent of Roman’s strength). Then the princely trait hurried back up the stairs, pulling the heart-mind pair along with him. The couple had to take care to not trip over themselves in the wake of Roman’s haste since they were still in their socks, having not had time to put their shoes back on.

“Kiddo! Slow down! What’s going on?”

“No time! You’ll see!”

As they rushed down the hallway, they saw Virgil standing in the distance, looking just as bewildered as Roman.

“Roman, will you please explain what’s –”

But Logan didn’t get to finish his sentence, as right at that point, Roman came to a halt and gestured wildly at the wall in front of them. And what he and Patton saw made them stop short and stare.

Between their respective individual doors…was a new door.

A door whose colour was an eye-catching marbling of indigo and cyan.

A door with the words ‘L & P’ engraved into the wood. The ‘L’ in a bold block, the ‘P’ in bubble font, and the ‘&’ in wavy calligraphy. Mismatched yet well-matched.

And below the engraving, an insignia of a cartoony heart-shaped brain with glasses.

Logan gaped, face fully open with shock and arms hanging limply by his sides. Patton was the same, save for covering his mouth with one of his hands. He reached out his other hand towards the door, trembling fingers scant inches away from the brightly-coloured wood but not daring to touch it for fear that it might disappear the moment his fingertips brushed against it.

“Is…is this…how – what –”

Patton broke off, too stunned to continue. Logan stayed silent, his head trying to process what he was seeing.

“I don’t know, Padre, –” said Roman, “– like, how it got here and why, but…you’re not imagining it.”

“We thought we did,” Virgil chimed in finally, taking a few tentative steps forward from where he’d been leaning against the opposite wall. “Ro and I actually thought that a new Side had formed, which woulda been weird considering Thomas is, like, a full-grown man and should have his personality fully formed by now. But then we looked closer, and saw the colour and icon, and…yeah.”

Logan and Patton said nothing, but exchanged a look with each other. And in that moment, the realization of what this really meant hit them.

This was their door. Their room. Somehow, when they came together and emerged stronger and on more solid ground after their fight, they solidified their status and connection as a couple, which resulted in the Mindscape manifesting a room just for them.

They looked back at the door again, unsure of what to do. Then they felt Roman gently shove them forward from behind.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go take a look!”

Logan and Patton looked at each other again, before taking a breath.

Then, with each placing a hand on the doorknob, they cautiously opened the door together and stepped inside.

Initially, only darkness greeted them, which confused them for a moment before they realized that there needed to be light. So, in perfect unison, without even thinking about it or consulting each other, they raised their hands and clapped twice.

Immediately they squinted at the sudden bright lighting and had to wait for their visions to adjust. Once they did, they took a look around.

Their jaws dropped at the sight that greeted them.

The first thing that struck them was how spacious the room was. Not overly so; just right for two people.

Then the colour was the next thing they noticed. The walls were the same colour as their door but in a paler shade, replete with voluminous puffs of cloud-like, swirly patterns. Somehow, it alternately gave the room a feeling of softness and tranquility. Softness for comfort. Tranquility for focus.

Then other aspects of the room caught their attention, one by one.

Furniture in varying shades of steel grey.

A double bed with matching bedside tables and lamps on either side of it.

White plush carpeting, soft beneath their still-socked feet.

Fairy lights twinkling along the tops of the walls.

Shelves of books and stuffies alike, accompanied by a sturdy armchair and a squishy beanbag.

Sparkling star-like lights mimicking the night sky on the ceiling.

And doors leading not only to their own bathroom, but also to Logan’s study and library, Patton’s ‘quiet corner’ and ‘mess space’ (where he did his arts and crafts), as well as their individual rooms.

Logan and Patton turned around slowly on the spot in the middle of the room, taking in every feature, picking out details that reminded them of themselves or each other. There was so much to look at and process.

This room – their room – encompassed everything that defined them individually and as a pair. A shared space of the Mindscape all for themselves and themselves alone. To seek refuge and comfort when it all got too much. They still had access to their original rooms when needed, but this room now existed as a neutral zone for them to coexist together.

All in all, it was perfect.

Logan turned towards Patton, feeling a little shaky from all this.

“Patton –”

But Logan was cut off by Patton throwing himself at him and locking lips with him. He could feel Patton trembling in his hold.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one feeling overwhelmed by this new development.

Logan wrapped his arms around Patton and brought him closer, applying sufficient pressure in his embrace to help ground Patton in his emotional state. Instantly Logan felt the prickly tension leave him as he lost himself in the kiss, and he felt Patton’s trembling die down as well. They let themselves be in the moment and recenter before pulling back.

Patton beamed up at Logan, the intensity of his light almost rivaling the Sun’s. Relieved, Logan grinned back at him then gently pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes. Patton did the same, giving a couple of nuzzles for good measure. Once again, they felt the world slow down around them and stay still, leaving only them. The intangible completeness from before returned, cupping them gently and carrying them upward.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by a brisk rapping at their door, left ajar after they’d entered.

“Hey! Can we come in now, or what?” an impatient voice called out.

Patton chuckled and Logan rolled his eyes.

“If you must,” he deadpanned, but he was smiling.

The door opened fully and Roman and Virgil peered in before entering, eyes and mouths wide with surprise and awe. To the couple’s surprise, Janus and Remus followed after them, Remus looking around the room with his head cocked in curiosity and Janus doing the same with ill-disguised indifference.

As the others admired and inspected every part of their new room as much as they had, Logan and Patton stood in the middle, Patton’s arms around Logan’s waist and Logan’s hand on Patton’s upper back. They looked at each other and shared a smile, warmth and love swirling in their chests. Then they all headed downstairs together to prepare breakfast, the promise of a new day ahead of them.

*******

That night, Patton and Logan cuddled in their new bed together, savouring their first night in their new room. Earlier they’d discovered that one side of the bed was as soft as a cloud just like how Patton liked it when he was sleeping, whilst the other side was firm to the touch just the way Logan preferred it. Yet another way the Mindscape had designed the room according to their preferences and needs.

And thus, that was how they laid: Patton on the right, Logan on the left, Side by Side. Patton lazed against Logan as he browsed through his phone, while Logan read a book with an arm around Patton, gently drawing shapes into Patton’s shoulder.

“Honey?”

Logan mentally marked the section of the chapter he was reading and looked down at his beloved. “Yes, love?”

“Can we…talk? About something?”

Logan studied Patton’s face. He was still looking at his phone but Logan noticed how Patton’s eyes were slightly unfocused, not really registering what he was reading or watching or whatever-ing on his phone. He was also nibbling the side of his mouth, a ‘tell’ Logan had come to learn as a sign when Patton wanted to broach a topic but was having difficulty initiating it.

“Of course.”

Patton nodded and turned off his phone, placing it on his bedside table. Logan did the same with his book on his own. Then Patton shifted himself so that he was sitting up properly but still leaning against Logan, and he let his head rest on Logan’s shoulder.

“Thank you, for last night.”

Logan curled his arm around Patton more and pulled him in closer. “Of course, darling. I’m glad that it was helpful for you.”

Patton nodded, then fell silent. But Logan could tell that he wasn’t done, if the continued worrying of his lips was any indication. Patton was trying to find his words. So, Logan rubbed Patton’s back while he waited, creating the space for Patton to step in and speak up.

Eventually, Patton inhaled through his nose and exhaled out his mouth before beginning. “So…I’ve been thinking –”

Logan quirked an eyebrow. “A dangerous pastime?”

Patton snorted at this and lightly swatted Logan’s arm. “That’s not what I was going for!”

“Apologies. I couldn’t resist.”

Patton continued to chortle, and Logan smiled at the way his sweetheart’s face scrunched up with mirth when he laughed. He made a mental note to try to make it happen more often.

When Patton’s giggles died down, he sighed and propped his chin on top of Logan’s shoulder, looking at his sunshine over the top of his glasses. “That was a good one.”

Logan took a moment to preen at Patton’s praise, then he reached out to gently push Patton’s glasses up his nose before replying.

“Anyways, I interrupted you. Go on, dear.”

Patton nodded and gathered up his thoughts again. Logan took the opportunity to lightly run his fingers through Patton’s hair as he waited.

Finally, Patton continued. “So, I was thinking…about yesterday.”

Logan nodded, letting out a hum to indicate that he was paying attention. Patton – beginning to feel a crick in his neck from it stretching out unnaturally – shifted his head so that it was laying on Logan’s shoulder again, his gaze falling on the way his hand was resting on top of Logan’s stomach.

“I’m…glad that we were able to work through it. And I wanna say and hope that it won’t happen again. But…I know that’s not possible. That’s not realistic. It’s just how it is in relationships. Nothing is perfect, even if you’re really compatible with each other. It’s gonna happen time and time again. Though, hopefully not as bad as yesterday. I guess I just…wish, kinda, that it didn’t happen. ‘Cause I don’t like it when it does. And I don’t like it when something like yesterday happens. Again, I realize that’s just the way it is sometimes, but…it doesn't feel good.”

Logan’s face softened at this and he bent down to place a kiss on Patton’s forehead. “Your thoughts and feelings are understandable. It was unpleasant for me as well. I don’t think most people in relationships enjoy arguing with their significant others. But, as you said, conflicts in relationships are inevitable, whether they’re major or minor, so the key is figuring out how to handle them when they arise.”

Patton nodded. “Yeah. That’s sorta what I was thinkin’, too. That we should, I dunno, come up with a plan so we don’t blow up at each other again next time.”

Even though I still wish there weren’t a next time, thought Patton, but he let the thought pass. He’d already voiced it out loud, and he knew that wishful thinking wasn’t going to magically prevent whatever they were going to clash on next time, as much as his fears were valid.

Patton’s wandering mind was brought back to the present when he heard Logan speak up.

“I think making a plan is a good step to take. Do you have any ideas?”

Patton looked up at Logan. “Me?”

Logan nodded. “As Thomas’ ‘heart’, you tend to have a good grasp on what needs to be taken care of emotionally. So, I trust you with whatever you have to offer in terms of steps either of us can take to ensure less strife in the future.”

Patton blinked again at Logan before nodding and falling into thought. Logan waited patiently as always, having faith in his beloved’s wisdom when it came to emotional matters.

“I think –” Patton began, “– that I did the right thing stepping away into my room, giving myself some space and time before you came along to talk to me. So, how about we do that? If we get into another fight to the point that we start getting angry, we make a sign to each other to take a break, go to our rooms, or this room even, if we want, and take time to ourselves to calm down. And then, we try talking again later when we’re less likely to blow up?”

Logan parsed Patton’s words in his head for a moment, and Patton waited for Logan to give his opinion (read: approval), biting his lip as his heart fluttered nervously.

Then Logan gave Patton a big smile and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

Patton’s heart soared at this, and he wrapped his arms fully around Logan, snuggling into him further.

They stayed in this intimate embrace for a bit, relishing in the warmth and closeness. Then Patton heard Logan say:

“You know, I just thought of something else to solidify what you just said. Some ‘details’, so to speak, as a way for us to adhere to this ‘guideline’ you just came up with, no matter how tense things get.”

“Really? What?”

Logan took Patton’s hand in his, and started playing around with how many ways they could interlock their fingers before turning into pretzel shapes. “I think what we did yesterday – the whole video-watching activity – was a good way to relax after our disagreement, and we were able to sleep better since we’d taken the time to share what had been bothering us individually. So, how about we set up a time so that, up until then, we can air any grievances we have with each other, and when we hit the time limit, that’s when we stop?”

Patton cocked his head to one side, thinking this through. “Sounds good so far. Did you have something specific in mind?”

Logan nodded and continued. “Say we choose, I don’t know, 8pm as the time when we stop talking about anything that might be emotionally charged or draining. So, up until 8pm, we have that time to do whatever we need to do to resolve whatever conflict we get into, and then, from 8pm onwards, we do something together to relax and spend time with each other. That way, our sleep quality won’t be tarnished by any lingering resentful feelings and we can start anew.”

Patton looked at Logan, then he thought about Logan’s proposal. After a few minutes, he looked back up at Logan and smiled. “That sounds fantastic.”

Logan beamed back at him, pride swelling in his chest, and they shared a kiss to seal the deal before settling down for one last cuddle before sleeping.

After a while, Logan looked down to suggest to Patton that it was probably time to go to sleep, and he paused when he noticed the faraway look in Patton’s eyes, the corners of his mouth turned slightly downwards.

“Something on your mind, dearheart?”

Patton jumped at Logan’s voice, evidently having been so deep in thought, and he looked up at Logan before giving a fixed smile and opening his mouth to reply.

“If you’re going to say that ‘nothing’s wrong’, refrain from that.”

Patton froze and immediately closed his mouth before dropping eye contact.

Logan immediately felt bad and used a hand to lift Patton’s chin up, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. It’s fine if you don’t want to say anything. Just know that whatever you have to say, I will listen, and I will not judge. No matter how big or small it is.”

Patton blinked twice before giving a nod and a sigh. “I know. I need to work on not doing that.”

Logan kissed Patton’s forehead. “It’s okay. It’s the same thing with me needing to work on my temper. We’re both going to make missteps along the way, and there’s nothing wrong with that, so long as we continue to work on them.”

Patton nodded before closing his eyes and exhaling. “It’s just…we already discussed it and I still know that there’s no point in worrying about it since it hasn’t happened yet and that it may never happen, but…it still won’t go away. The thought won’t leave me alone.”

“And what thought is that, if you feel comfortable resharing it with me?”

Patton kept quiet, only curled into Logan more and tucked his face into Logan’s neck, as though seeking reassurance. Logan held Patton closer to him, waiting and listening.

Then, he heard Patton whisper:

“I’m still scared.”

It was just three single words, all delivered without a trace of emotion or wateriness. But Logan could hear the subtle overtones behind those words, and he understood what they meant.

His face creased slightly before he placed a kiss on Patton's temple and then pressed the sides of their heads together.

“I know. And that’s okay. I am, too. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out as we go. Together.”

He felt Patton nod into his neck, and they held onto each other, conveying all their love and care for each other in their embrace, letting each other know that they had each other, they were here, and that they would always be here.

Soon, Logan whispered to Patton: “Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

He felt Patton nod again, then Patton shifted so that he was laying his head against Logan’s chest comfortably, his eyes closed. Logan shifted himself so that he was lying down properly, and he ran his fingers through Patton’s hair a few times more before kissing his forehead one more time and settling down for the night.

Just when he was beginning to feel himself drift off, Logan felt Patton sit up, and he opened his eyes to Patton’s face filling his vision. Even though Patton’s eyes were slightly teary, his light shone bright with love. Then Patton smiled and leaned forward to kiss Logan. Logan accepted the kiss, lifting a hand to cradle his cheek.

When they were done, Patton pulled back to look at him and whispered:

“I love you.”

Warmth swirled in Logan’s chest. “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

The light in Patton’s eyes intensified and he went back for another long, sweet kiss.

They went back and forth like this a couple times, whispering sweet nothings and everythings while trading kisses in between, before fatigue finally overtook them. And as they fell asleep like this – in each other’s arms, lips still tingling from the kisses and stretched into contented, tender smiles – they both thought that they wouldn’t have this any other way.

*******

And so it was, from that night onward, Logan and Patton worked hard to improve on communicating their needs and wants and listening to each other – as well as their own individual burdens – and thanks to their dedication, they were able to smooth out most disagreements they came across more easily.

But, as stated before, it wasn’t always perfect. There were days when either of them would fall back into bad habits, leaving one or the other feeling as though they’d taken several steps back. Other days, if it was an especially trying day with small frustrations snowballing to a mountain of aggravation, one would act out, leading to the other shutting down emotionally. And yet other days still, due to their shared stubbornness, there would be times when they would come to a complete standstill, unable to budge.

This was especially apparent during the times when Thomas was facing a dilemma where there was no room for compromise, when a side had to be chosen. On the days when reason needed to be heeded, Patton would be sulky and teary but would acquiesce to the decision, and on the other days when the heart’s desire was too strong to be argued against, Logan would be irritated and disappointed but would also defer to the choice. When those times happened, Logan and Patton gave each other space for the day: to cry, to rant to another Side, to mope, to scribble furiously into a notebook, anything to get their negative feelings out of their systems.

But, as established at the very beginning of their relationship, Patton and Logan managed to maintain the one cardinal rule they agreed upon no matter how tense or bad things got: never going to bed angry.

Come around the time before dinner, depending on who was the one most affected by the decision, one sought the other out, and they would talk things out. There were always more tears, maybe a few bitter or low-esteemed comments here and there, but they would remind each other that the decision did not represent a rejection of them (by either each other or Thomas), that they were aware and accepting of their position and thoughts and opinions, and that they were there for each other no matter what. They would then go have dinner with the other Sides, so that the family time was not saturated with leftover bad feelings.

After dinner, at 8pm on the dot, the couple would make sure to do something lighthearted, something that relaxed them and reaffirmed their love and care for one another. Maybe they watched something on the TV: a show, movie or documentary, or read a book together, or watched YouTube videos of their favourite interests, or coloured in colouring books, or listened to music or a podcast. Again, in regards to who was upset that day, the activities they indulged in were for the Side who needed cheering up and reassurance.

Then, when the night was over, they went upstairs to their shared room and fell asleep in each other’s arms, with kisses full of reassurance and forgiveness and cuddles full of promises of a new day and a fresh start, while strengthening their bond and relationship.

Although it wasn’t always easy, Logan and Patton were determined to always keep working at their bond and with each other. And they became stronger for it. For their famILY. For Thomas. And, most of all, for themselves.

#sanders sides #logicality #romantic logicality #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts patton #ts logan #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #hurt/comfort #fluff and angst #angst with a happy ending #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #light and tenderness au #melanie's writings

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astroismypassion · 4 years

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Astrology observations 💭💬🗯

Credit: Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

💬 Uranus in the 3rd house or Aquarius in the 3rd house people are knowledgeable about recycling waste (recycling paper, glass, plastic etc.). They might like recycling. And they usually teach their siblings, family relatives or even neighbours how to properly do it.

💬 Lilith in Virgo (sometimes Lilith in the 6th house too) are sly people. They really now how to seduce someone. They would make themselves more approachable. How they do this? They would make shy, innocent eye contact with you for a few seconds. Then they would quickly look down like you caught them and now they act like they are all embarrassed. By doing this, they would make themselves appear more approachable to you, through faking being submissive. So that you end up approaching them. Then, once you end up approaching them and talking to them, they will turn on the charm even more. This is literally how they “flirt” with people or attract someone. But most often they will not admit this, because they carry certain guilt around it. Because they are faking their submission. And they can also get others do favours for them through this acting.

💬 Lilith in Virgo or Lilith in the 6th house can fake service and servitude as well. They can do the favour for you too. However, they will do it to insure, that if they will ever need help from you, they will get it. So you might get used or taken advantage by them, but realize it AFTER you’ve already done the favour for them. While you are helping Virgo Lilith, you will not see it as taken advantage of, because they are so nice, persuasive and kind about it. Lilith in Virgo really needs to be honest here about their shadow side. To not use people too often. The could risk becoming just “a user” and not really “a fixer” despite having these positive Virgo traits too.

💬 12th house synastry is not always doomed, unrequited love. 12th house overlays could indicate plenty of other things too. For example: a person that falls in your 12th house is a big soft spot for you. You could forgive them infinite amount of times, just because they are they and you are weak for them. Or it might indicate one of the people struggles with mental health or has unresolved emotional issues. It can also mean you make some sort of art together or music. Or you share similar music taste.

💬 Libra Mars can really dress themselves based on their mood. If they know they go to a social gathering and their crush will be there too, they make an effort to dress themselves presentable. But if they had a bad day at work/school and their mood is low, they will not bother as much. They will rather put on something that FEELS comfortable on their skin and they are “cosy” in it.

💬 People that often notice other people’s scent or perfume, even deodorant, are usually: Taurus Venus, Venus in the 2nd house, Taurus Moon, Pisces Moon, Pisces Venus, Libra Venus, Libra Mars, Virgo Venus, Virgo Mars, Virgo Lilith, Virgo in the 2nd house, Libra in the 2nd house, Pisces in the 2nd house. Sometimes even Capricorn Moon, Capricorn Venus, Mars and Capricorn in the 2nd house, though they will not comment on it, only if they are really really comfortable with you or know you well. Otherwise, they will just notice it, but not say anything.

💬 Aries Moon, Aries Venus, Aries Mars, Aries Eros people can get themselves in a lot of unrequited love situations or they can constantly feel like they have to “fight” for their crush and their attention. If the person looks as if they are not interested enough or might even dislike a bit Aries at first, they will see it as a challenge. Aries likes to change their mind, to conquer someone that was first very hard to conquer. They get satisfaction out of getting someone hooked on them, when at first the person wasn’t even attracted to them. This could make Aries feel even MORE desirable. Because they succeeded in something that was “impossible” at first.

💬 They might actually put themselves in these kind of situations more (love triangles, “unrequited love” situations etc.) just so they can prove themselves to THEMSELVES. 😅

Credit: Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

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Chapter 11

Guess who's back? Back again. Back three hours late, but back nonetheless. I'd feel more sorry if I was more sorry. This is officially the longest chapter as of now, so, yay. Someone challenged me to not swear for a chapter, and I believe I fulfilled that requirement. I'm just gonna go sleep.

Update: APPARENTLY, TUMBLR DOES THE TRANSFER FORMATTING THING ON LAPTOPS AND I HATE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE RIGHT NOW SO MUCH. I usually do all my editing on my phone, so I knew no such luxury. I have never been more pissed. That is a lie, but my anger is still very genuine.

Chapter 11

“Where were you?”

The younger brother looks up at his senior. “Huh?”

“You were gone all night.” Leonardo leans against the door, crossing his arms. “Don’t look so surprised; I started getting up early to meditate.”

He shrugs in feigned nonchalance, already dreading the ensuing conversation. “Out.”

“And where’s ‘Out’?”

Donnie slides out of his chair, deciding his straining eyes need a break. “Just went to check on Y/N is all.” He rubs them with his arm, quietly noting the sounds of fighting in the dojo were starting to cease as he sits on the couch. His rounds of sparring with Leonardo were finished a little over an hour ago; a part of him is grateful it took him this long to corner him.

This got a raised brow. “You were checking on her for hours?”

He does not look him in the eye. “It’s not impossible.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t that late,” he argues.

“Donnie,” he presses, “you didn’t get home until five in the morning. Where were you?”

He feels his face heat up. “I said.”

Leo leans down to look his brother in the eye. “Final answer?”

He swallows a yawn. “Look, I know it was stupid—”

“I didn’t say it was stupid.”

“No,” he snips, mildly irritable from a lack of sleep. “You implied it.”

The doors to the dojo slide open, the disgruntled look on Raphael’s face all the evidence the other two need to know who won.

Mikey dives onto the couch, sprawling out next to his slightly older brother. “Did you ask yet?”

“I did.” He glances at the disgruntled boy. “Donnie was, apparently, at Y/N’s all night.”

The reaction is immediate.

“Details!” The small victor sits up, leaning forward on his knees in usual attentiveness. “Was she good?”

“What did you—shut up, Mikey.” Raph’s attention snaps back to his tallest brother. “What did you do to her? Did you—”

“Wait, hold on!” Donnie’s face feels uncomfortably hot. “N-Nothing happened!”

“Yeah, sure.” The second eldest rolls his eyes. “You think we fell off the truck yesterday? Who stays with a girl all night in her room without something happening? Nobody,” he cuts him off before he can defend himself.

The youngest’s voice rises over his brother’s before he can continue. “Dude, big picture!” He gestures to his brown-eyed brother. “He got with a girl first! He has valid info or whatever he says and stuff!”

“What are you two even talking about?” He wrings his hands. “Look, nothing happened!”

“Then what were you doing at her house,” Raphael eggs. “You weren’t just sitting there, right?”

“… no.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

He pauses, the two excitable boys waiting on bated breath. “She wanted me to spend the night,” he explains carefully, “because she was having bad nightmares and didn’t want to sleep alone.” He leans back, tossing his hands in the air. “That’s all.”

Silence falls.

“So,” clarifies Raphael, “you spent however many hours in her room, in her bed, and you didn’t make a move?”

“I—look!” The conversation is taking a shift for the worse. “I was trying to be nice! The last thing she needed was me doing whatever you’re insinuating!”

“He has a point,” Michelangelo nods knowingly. “Brownie points are key.”

“When did I say I was doing this for brownie points?”

“Look,” the eldest interjects. “Regardless of whether or not he was doing the ‘smart’ thing—” air quotes, “my bigger concern is that you didn’t bother calling to let us know where you were. You could’ve—Raph, do you have something to say?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you really gonna act like you wouldn’t do the exact same thing if it were you?”

The leader pauses. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private?”

“Sure.” A venomous smile curls Raph’s lips. “Dojo?”

“Bring it.”

As the two leave, Donnie looks back over at Mikey. “Okay,” he sighs, “did I miss something?”

A shrug. “Man," he grins brazenly, "bold of you to assume I follow half of the things you guys say.”

He pulls his T-Phone from his utility belt. “Do you think I did the right thing? Honestly?”

Another shrug. “I dunno.” He looks over his older brother’s shoulder, reading the text on the screen curiously. “Can’t have gone too bad, though, if you two’ve been textin’ all day.

He pushes his head away with his free hand. “It hasn’t been all day,” he corrects. “She just filled me in on this week’s episode and we just kept talking after that.” He smiles faintly. “Although, she did check to see if I got home alright.”

“Hey, that’s totally progress!” He grins encouragingly. “I mean, the bed thing was bigger progress, but this is also progress.”

You push through the turnstile with a bit of difficulty, hopping on your good leg as you pull the walker over the divider using your free hand with an embarrassing clatter. “Sorry,” you wince, feeling your face heat up as you slide down the railing. “I’m still getting used to—”

“Holy—are you alright?” The distress is apparent in the youngest’s voice as he sees you for the first time in a month. “You look like you—”

“I’m aware,” you cut him off dryly, holding a paper bag as you stumble over to the couch. “Whatever you’re about to say, I’m aware.” You put it down in Donnie’s lap. “Here.”

He blinks, picking it up as you regain your bearings. “What is it?”

“Not poison or snakes. Open it.”

“Yo,” Mikey interrupts, pointing at your banged-up leg, “can I draw on your white thing?”

It takes you a second to figure out what he is referring to. “Oh, you mean—yeah.” You lean your head back against the back of the couch. “Just know that I’ll take white-out to anything that could get me kicked out of school.”

“Deal!” He runs off to your room as his brother pulls the bag open, pulling the pastry from its confinement.

“What is it,” he repeats, icing already on his fingers.

“Cupcake.”

He fingers the wrapper, his brick stare seeming almost to dissect it. “What is it for?”

“Besides being messy?” You smile gently as you watch him try to figure it out, feeling your heart swell. “It’s food.”

“How much of it is edible?”

“Everything except the paper bit.”

He peels the liner back. “And how do you eat it, exactly?”

You lean forward on your arms. “The goal is to eat the frosting and the cake part at the same time, so however you accomplish that.”

He smiles sheepishly, eyes softening as he looks back at you. “Is it possible to eat it without the frosting getting on your face?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

He tentatively holds eye contact with you as he takes a bite, unsurprisingly getting icing sticking to the space around his upper lip. You wait tentatively as he licks the excess off, blinking in delighted surprise. “What’s in this, exactly?”

You feel yourself beam at his tone. “It’s nothing too special,” you shrug nonchalantly, bubbling with excitement. “It’s a personal favorite; red velvet with cream cheese frosting.”

He takes another bite. “Do you have more? Follow-up question,” you note his speech quickening, “can you make more?”

“Totally,” you nod in agreement. “I wanted to make you something as thanks for—”

“Back!”

Donnie shoves the rest of it in his mouth as soon as you two hear him.

“Sorry for the wait; I couldn’t find my stuff.” He plops down with a cardboard box filled with various discarded art supplies. “I’d use spray paint, but he—” he nods to his brother, currently trying to choke the rest of the cupcake down—“said I’m not allowed because of fumes or somethin’, so.”

“Fair.” You allow him to drape your calf over his legs, digging into the cardboard box he was carrying and pulling out a pencil. “Got any plans?”

“You’ll see,” he grins, starting to sketch shapes out.

The taller of the two wipes the excess frosting off his fingers. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers, “when you two are done with that, Y/N, I still gotta do that physical.”

“Physical?”

He clears his throat in preparation for a very redundant explanation. “A physical,” he explains calmly to his over-excited brother, “as in a physical examination, not whatever you’re thinking of.”

He blinks. “Like a doctor’s visit?”

“Donnie was asking about my recovery time,” you add helpfully. “Apparently, it’s weirdly long, but I don’t have any weird medical problems, so he wanted to see what the deal was.”

“That, and your comment about how ‘insanely high’ we jump, apparently.”

“Do not air quote that!” You lean your head back to look at him, hair falling onto his lap. “Not when you guys put high jumping to shame.”

He adamantly avoids eye contact, face warming. “It’s not that high,” he mumbles. “Especially if we’re bringing a sport like high jumping into this.”

“I respectfully disagree.” You lay your head down properly, looking up at him from his thighs. “Considering your falling form, it is a miracle you still have working hips.”

“What’s wrong with my form?”

“It doesn’t include a parachute.”

“Okay,” Mikey interjects, “it may not last unless you cover it with something. Just, FYI.”

You lean your head up to look at him. “Noted,” you nod. “I’ll pick up varnish or something on my way home.”

He nods. “Oh,” he asks innocently, “mind turning over? I have to get the other side and I don’t want to hurt you.”

For some inexplicable reason, the boy you are currently laying on looks as though someone has put a gun to his head.

You do as asked with a bit of difficulty, bringing your knee closer to your chest as it is now closest to the back of the couch. “Like that?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

You look up at Donnie. “Let me know if you need me to move,” you smile. “If your thighs go numb or anything.”

His voice is oddly tight. “You’re good.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Sure? You sound very uncomfortable.”

“Never better.”

“He’s alright,” Mikey reassures you, shooting a thumbs up at his brother behind your back.

“...Alright.” Your eyes focus absentmindedly on what you thought was a couch cushion; upon further inspection, it appears to be a repurposed training mat. You bring the arm not currently pinned to your side under your head, humming an earworm softly.

The boy currently under you is silently panicking as your fingers squeeze gently around his knee, making a conscious effort to stare at the television and only at the television with his hands hovering awkwardly over you. Surprisingly enough, out of the corner of his eye, he does not catch his younger brother trying to stare at you weirdly, sincerely focused on drawing.

You feel him, eventually, resting his hands down, one resting in between your shoulder blades, the other in your hair, twisting a lock of it around his fingers gently. “Still alright,” you ask.

His voice is almost airy, now. “Mhm.”

‘This is nice.’ You trace little designs into the mat as your mind begins to wander, the boys starting to talk about something you struggle to pay attention to. This is not the closest you have been to him physically, but it is nice not to be crying this time around. "Domestic, almost, even if he doesn't think so.’

‘I should learn how to braid.’ Braiding is not something he has necessarily needed to know how to do in the past, but as he wraps the fibers around themselves, curious about the texture, he wishes that he knew; using your hair as a material of sorts would certainly be interesting, and he knows he has the dexterity for it. Admittedly, the conversation is less of a conversation and more of a speech on his brother’s part, but he tries to pay attention.

“So,” Mikey continues, digging into the box and pulling out a pencil sharpener, “he’s watching this guy all stealth-like, right? The guy’s out here, giving out his plans like they’re candy or whatever, and he’s just kinda recording it on one of those little tape recorders you used for that one thing a couple weeks ago-- you know the ones, and-- you don’t mind spoilers-- long story short, the guy gets caught, and when the crew got there, he was totally messed up.”

“Sounds like Batman,” you mumble sleepily-- ‘He really is warm.’

“Huh?”

“Your story.” You hoist yourself up, looking over your shoulder back at him. “Sounds like this Batman cartoon.”

“Batman?”

“Universe…” you stifle a yawn. “My universe has this thing called Batman, and there's a crossover thing in a different iteration of this universe. I guess you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

“Different iteration?” Donatello looks down at your head in his lap, desperately in need of a cold shower.

You feel Michelangelo bend your leg forward. You nod in confirmation, trying to will yourself awake. “Didn’t I… did I?” You lay your head back down properly. “You guys are, like… mega-famous down-- back-- there.”

“I’m not sure if you did.”

“Well,” you giggle sleepily, “you are.” You try to count on your fingers. “You’ve got the original comic, the old cartoon, the two-thousand three animated show, the CGI movie, this one, the two live-action movies, the twenty-eighteen animated one-- gorgeous animation by the by that I have to show you later, Mikey-- that crossover movie with Batman, the live-action show, the other, older live-action movie, the IDW comic series, that weird one with the hats-- there’s a ton.”

“Dude, that is sick!” The resident artist grins. “I bet they were awesome.”

You consider telling him about the IDW comic. You quickly decide against it.

“How long have we-- as a property-- existed, exactly?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “The first animated show was the eighties, I think.”

“...huh.”

You notice him fiddling with your hair, finally. You don’t mind.

“It’s been too long.”

You freeze, suddenly very awake and painfully aware of your current position.

One of the few good things about having your own apartment: you seem to have forgotten the fear of being walked in on.

“Please, relax.” You hear his smile. It does not help matters. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

The other two, astonishingly, do not seem nearly as anxious as you are.

You look up at him from your spot on his son’s lap. “You look as healthy as ever.” ‘I miss my grandpa. Is Grandma okay?’ You were unable to find your relatives on your father’s side through social media-- they could be dead for all you know.

“No thanks to my diet,” he chuckles. Yoshi walks out of your field of view. “Don’t mind me; how long have they been in the dojo?”

“Half an hour?” You hear the jostling of the box and the snap of an uncapped pen.

You hear him sigh. “Let’s just hope nobody’s died,” he mutters, walking into the dojo.

The three of you strain your ears to-- unsuccessfully-- hear what is going on. The door snaps open as the two brothers leave together in heated silence.

Mikey shakes what you can now identify as a paint pen. “Who won?”

“Nobody.” Leo’s voice, snippy. “Is she out?”

“She is not.” You turn your arm awkwardly to wave back at him.

“Then,” he shrugs, “nice to see you.”

“Likewise.”

“So,” Raph interjects, apparently very interested in the current situation, “can someone please explain what, exactly, is going on here?”

“I’m painting her white thing.”

“Of course. Donnie?”

The mortification would be apparent if you were looking at him.

“Nothin? Okay then.” You shut your eyes as he sits down on the other side of you. “You look terrible. Nice scar.”

“I am too close to very sensitive areas for you to give me a hard time, Raphael,” you warn.

“Whatever.”

“I’m heading out.” Leo nonchalantly bounds the steps, hopping over a divider.

“Tell her I say hi,” you call back. “Remember, consent is key, yellow roses lead to friendzoning, and to always use a condom.”

“... No comment.” He runs off.

“I have so many questions.”

“Ask me later.”

It takes him about twenty more minutes to finish covering the entirety of your cast in brightly colored characters and objects; if you have to describe it, you will say that the style is contemporary pop illustration with composition reminiscent of the renaissance period if the single art class you have taken is serving you right.

“This,” you smile, a little misty-eyed for some reason, “is absolutely gorgeous. Thanks, Mikey.”

He beams. “You’re totally welcome! If you ever get more white things, I’ll draw on those too, if you want.”

“Dude, for sure.” You nod in agreement, looking back at Donnie. “Isn’t it cool?”

Donatello has been quietly jabbed at for the past twenty minutes and is mostly desensitized to the quality of his brother’s art; frankly, it is not his area, and he cannot judge it one way or the other. Despite this, he gives his brother a thumbs up. “Very.”

“Don’t stroke his ego so much,” teases their older brother. “Donnie’ll get jealous.”

“Hate to steal her from you all,” he interrupts, “but I still have a physical to do, so if you would be so kind as to shut up, that would be great.”

‘Green with envy. Is that racist? No clue. Pretty colors.’ Donnie is talking to you. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were still on board.”

You nod. “Mind grabbing my walker?”

He shoots his snickering brother a glare. “Want me to just carry you to the lab?”

Panic. Immediate panic. “You sure you can carry me?”

He shrugs, smiling. “It’s only a few feet. Besides,” he points out, “aren’t you the one always going on about how strong we are by normal standards?”

You do not have a rational way to explain why the idea of being off of solid ground, held up by someone who can potentially drop you, is distressing. You also do not want to insult him in any shape, way, or form. “Promise you won’t drop me?” Your stomach turns.

“Swear it.”

“Can I paint your walker while you guys are doing that?”

“Of all the things you could've chosen--”

“Lay off.” He offers his arms. “You can trust me, I promise.”

You pause. The statement is entirely true, but your gut is screaming at you not to do that. The same gut told you that slamming your body into the person driving the car you were tied up in was a good idea.

You latch your arms around his neck, burying your eyes in the crook of his neck as to not see when and in what direction he is moving you. “Please,” you mumble, trying not to blatantly beg, “do not drop me.”

He does not exactly understand why you are clinging to him so tightly, but he is hardly one to complain. He slides an arm under your knees, picking you up.

Raphael is heckling you. You are more concerned with your body inaccurately telling you that you are going to die from this. Tears prick your eyes as you try to breathe.

He looks down at you, mind wandering as he walks away from his brothers. You look so sweet to him, shaking like a leaf in his arms. Cute. He had thought the same thing when you had started clinging to him during that movie forever ago, when you held his hand last night and pulled him back onto the bed with you. You are not normally openly vulnerable and, although he is hardly one to talk about vulnerability, it is always a sight to behold.

“Please don’t drop me.” He is not exactly sure if you are aware of your own, almost silent begging as you repeat the phrase over and over. ‘You trust me.’ His heart melts.

It takes no time to get you to his lab. He sets you down on a chair, but you do not seem to understand that as you still cling tightly to his neck.

He chuckles nervously. “I need my body to perform the physical, Y/N.”

You were not aware he had put you down. Your eyes snap open as you let your shaking, iron grip relax. “Sorry,” you mumble, face going a gorgeous shade of pink.

“No prob.” ‘Prob?’ His face changes color to match yours.

“So.” He claps his hands together just a bit too hard, slamming the door closed when he hears his brothers’ snickering. “Let’s get started.”

You sit on your couch, applying another coat of varnish to your cast as you listen to a cooking show because something something exposure therapy. Also, listening to people scream at one another about food textures is soothing.

Your results were not surprising to you; by the standards of humans in this universe, you are a walking talking coma patient. It was a bit funny, watching him freak out about a blood pressure that you knew-- through the help of google-- was completely normal. You are fine for the most part, if he was using the tools given correctly, and so, you are currently preoccupied with making sure the gorgeous painting on your fiberglass prison is going to stay gorgeous. The only thing he had insisted on, really, was that you not cook, after seeing your crudely applied bandages on your fingers.

You lean back into an actual couch, pulling out your phone and scrolling through pictures of gloves again. You are determined to find a good pair; the deep scars on your hands are not fading any time soon.

You can hear the window slide open. “If you’re planning on killing me--” you stop when you look up to see the look on Donnie’s face. “Something up?”

He says absolutely nothing, leaning his staff against the wall, closing the window in a daze and he stands next to the sofa. “Are you busy?”

“No.”

“Good.” His eyes glance at the space next to you. “Can I stay here for a bit?”

“As long as you like.”

He lays his head on your lap as he sits down, staring blankly at the television screen. He immediately understands why you like this-- your thighs are incredibly soft.

You immediately understand why he was awkward. You have no idea where to put your hands, but you eventually settle on his head as you turn the volume down. “What’s up?”

He takes a deep breath, licking his teeth as he sighs. “I,” he explains, “just realized what my reality is right now and I-- okay, I know this sounds stupid--”

“Not at all.”

“It does,” he insists. “I know it sounds stupid because I realized it did when I was working it out, but I just-- hear me out, okay?” His voice oozes exhaustion.

“I’m hearing you.” You listen to him, laying your phone face down on the coffee table. “Hit me.”

He takes another breath. “I just fought a giant… thing.” He rolls over, looking up at you. “Mikey called it Jacob or something, and it was about twenty feet tall and it looked like something out of a monster movie and it destroyed us in a fight.” You hear his voice rising, and you just nod along, letting him talk. “It wiped the floor with us. And the only reason it existed was that Leo, apparently, got a girlfriend named Karai-- you know her?”

“Hot alt chick with the wicked eyeshadow and eyeliner that could kill?” You nod. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“Her-- wait, should I…?” He trails off, shakes his head. “Another time.” He covers the side of his face with his hand, gesturing animatedly with his other. “Anyways, apparently he met this girl because she wanted to do a heist with him-- this girl, working for the Foot, of all people-- sixteen or whatever-- she goes and just touches a button to mix the DNAs of all the creatures an alien race could find on Earth, and then bails.” He realizes he is shouting, lowers his voice. “The alien creatures, in case you forgot, that look like brains and waddle around on tentacles which, by the way, makes no evolutionary sense whatsoever, decided to create a button that mixes the entirety of their samples of DNA together in a smorgasbord of wrong, okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nod along. You know what he means, even if the word he used was technically not correct.

“This thing,” he continues, officially ranting, “destroyed a building! It set the whole thing on fire, which was probably only Kraang, but also maybe had normal people in it, which is concerning.” He rubs his eyes aggressively. “So, to recap, an alienish creature named Jason or whatever got created by Leo’s crush and destroyed a building and that was just what happened today!” He raises his hands in the air, almost accidentally hitting you in the face. “I didn’t bat an eye at this!”

“Man, I feel you.”

“And I understand,” he continues, “the irony of telling you this, considering I am a giant, talking turtle created by the very same mutagen that created Justin or whatever its stupid name was, was taught ninjutsu by my ninja master father who is also a rat, and that you have already previously died--”

“All very bizarre things,” you agree.

“-- but this is just…” he sighs. “My life is getting so… weird? It was already weird, I know, but more so than I thought it reasonably should be.”

You wipe a bit of oil you notice on his cheek off with your thumb. “This world is a weird one,” you admit.

His voice is lower now as he follows your hand with his eyes. “I…” He takes breath. “I just wish we were more normal, you know? That our lives were more normal, that our existences made more sense, you know?”

You cup his face in your hand gently, remembering how your mother used to do the same for you. “I do.”

You feel him leaning into your touch. “I wish,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “that I was a normal, human teenager who went to school and didn’t know how to use a bo staff and had three, normal brothers who could try to get girlfriends without worrying about whether or not they wanted to kill them.”

You sigh, running your thumbs along the edge of his eye socket, feeling the soft skin shift under you. “You’re very well adjusted for a teenager trained in the art of assassination,” you joke softly.

He chuckles dryly, closing his eyes. “My mother is an empty canister in a locked cabinet in the kitchen.” He exhales slowly. “My stepmom was murdered by a man now actively trying to murder me and my entire family because of a decades long feud. Well adjusted is probably the highest compliment you could give me.”

“I’ve given you higher.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You glance up at the television screen, then back at him. “You’re holding up better than I am, and you’ve been fearing for your life since you were real little.”

“Apples and oranges.” He rests his hand on yours.

“Look,” you shrug, “the way I see it, life is a series of events that all string together to the present.”

“Butterfly effect.”

“Exactly.” You smile down at him. “And if things didn’t happen exactly as they did, we never would’ve met, the world would be totally screwed, and we would be missing out on one of the greatest minds on the planet.”

He looks to see if you are being serious.

You are.

“You also wouldn’t have a broken leg and messed up hands,” he points out ruefully.

“Meeting you was worth it.”

He reaches up, running his fingers along the scar on your face. “I disagree.”

“It’s my body, and my physical detriment. It doesn’t matter if you’re stupid enough to think it wasn’t worth it.”

You feel his body relax

You two shut up for a bit, watching the show absentmindedly.

After a while, he pipes up. “It’s alright if you say no,” he starts tentatively, “but is it alright if I stay here again tonight?”

“Will your brothers mind?”

“They don’t care so long as I’m home before sunrise,” he shrugs. “I just like it here. Smells better.”

You smile brightly. “Sure,” you agree easily. “I sleep better with you here, anyways; I don’t worry about people sneaking in through the window.” You check the varnish. “I just have to wait for this to dry the rest of the way, first. You’re free to go to bed without me, though.”

In all honesty, you’re just happy not to be alone.

He nods, standing up and drawing the curtains. He sits down on the bed, untying the mask behind his head. ‘I could get used to this.’ He smiles slightly, slipping a hand into his utility belt and texting his brothers where he was to avoid his brother’s scolding in the morning. He slips that off too, dropping both onto the side of the bed and starting on the wraps on his feet and hands; he had learned his lesson when he had gotten up morning before, having gotten a few hours sleep at home, to large, noticeable indentations in his flesh where the foreign objects had been.

You glance over. “Do those go in the wash?”

He looks back. “Not usually, no.”

“Do you want me to wash them?”

‘You are too considerate.’ He shakes his head. “It’s alright.”

You shrug, putting your hands up. “Suit yourself.” You cross your hands across your stomach, staring absentmindedly back at the screen. “You can use the shower in the morning, but please do not use all of the hot water. Fridge is open if you need breakfast.”

“Nah,” he sighs, slipping the clothes into his utility belt. “I’ll eat at home.”

You nod in acknowledgement.

It occurs to him as he sets his knee and elbow pads with the rest of his things that, technically, he is stripping in front of you, and you are not batting an eye. As soon as that clocks, it also dawns on him that you are showing the most skin he has ever seen-- an A-shirt and gym shorts-- which had not even registered until he was laying in your bed. You are relaxed and in your warm apartment, watching a television program with him in your bed. You are awake and absolutely gorgeous and you feel safer with him of all people.

His heart swells as he slides under the blankets, the sound of the television white noise at this point.

You glance back at him, the phrase “Snug as a bug in a rug," coming to mind as you look over at him, struggling to keep his eyes open. “You gonna fall asleep?”

His face warms. He nods. "It's been a really long day," he admits.

“Then goodnight,” you smile. “Sweet dreams.”

He smiles sleepily. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he shuts his eyes.

You swallow.

You forgot how much you missed this.

Table of Contents

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

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thyandrawrites · 3 years

Text

On Caleb's translation

Obligatory clarification post since I see that my words and my posts on the matter are already being used to imply how I'm trying to get Caleb to lose his job because I'm "an instigator"

1. First of all, I urge you to take a deep breath. Before you cock the gun at any of the people involved in this, consider the facts. I am a weeb who writes shit on the internet on a random tumblr blog. Caleb is a professional translator. A freelancer, yes, but one with several titles under his belt. We both might have big platforms, but our voices don't remotely hold the same authority in the eyes of Viz. Viz has no idea who I am, cause I'm a no one. I'm just a reader. I don't have credentials that they can see, because my tumblr blog is a clutter of fandom stuff, and not a portfolio of my studies. So even if all the stuff I've written on the matter were to somehow reach Viz, it would virtually account as nothing more than weeb talk. Viz has no way of making sure that I have any competence in Japanese at all, so they cannot consider me a reputable source of criticism on one of their employees' work. At max, they might consider me a buyer (I'm not even that, because I buy my own country's official release of bnha and not Viz's). So at max they might consider me (and other tumblr users who have been vocal about the bias in Caleb's translation) as potential disturbances in selling a product. But that's admitting they even hear about this. Again, I'm just a random weeb. Why should Viz care about pleasing the masses by punishing a translator who doesn't translate wrong, per se, but just misses nuance? You can't even argue that he's translating beans for potatoes. He's just adding "ew" every time he mentions beans. That's not grounds for firing someone for lack of skills.

2. I never said I wanted Caleb to lose his job anyway. Trust me, I don't want that. I have a degree in translation too, and I have attempted freelancing. I know you can't really make a living off this job unless you accept to work for crumbs, do hella overtime, and take more titles than you can properly handle. I know how shitty a job it is, and how hard it is to translate from Japanese, because Japanese doesn't translate well into English in general. And I know how translation is not a field that offers a lot of personal gratification. Translators are supposed to stay invisible (all textbooks on the job explain this, this is not a jab at Caleb), so a job well done typically means that your work is invisible and doesn't get you any cred. If you notice, the only time the topics of translation, localization and adaptation ever come up, it's always when something failed spectacularly, or when the source text presents a particular challenge that makes the translator's job impossible to be invisible. See for example the whole "Hodor / Hold the door" thing with Game of Thrones.

so. I am well aware of how being a translator is a job without glory, and one that doesn't pay off at all for all the hard work put into it. I lived it. I know. You don't normally learn the names of the translators making foreign content accessible for your country, do you? Not the same way you memorize the names of actors, sceenwriters, or mangaka. Our work is mostly invisible. So I perfectly understand why Caleb has a twitter where he comments on his works and shares random trivia. It might not be entirely professional, particularly since he's the sole translator for bnha, but I understand it. And to an extent, I appreciate that he's so invested in the series he works for, because typically that means a bigger effort is put into offering a good product and translating accurately.

The fact that his translations (and his trivia threads) have started becoming biased and lacking the impartiality required by the profession is the sole criticism I make of his work. Because aside from that, I don't really have an issue with anything else. If he woke up one day and decided to clean up his act and stop erasing parts of the original text's nuance, I would make peace with him in a heartbeat, because none of my gripes with his work are on a personal level. I don't want to screw the guy over. I want him to be a professional. You know, cause he's been employed to be one. He's getting money for this. He's not an hobbyst like me. If people are paying for a product, they deserve that profuct to be as polished as can be.

3. Adding to point 2, I have never once stated that people should not buy Viz's release. In fact, I've encouraged people to keep reading the official translation, because supporting the official release is the only way that we as a fandom, as consumers, can ensure that bnha keeps being translated, and that Horikoshi and the people across the world who are employed thanks to bnha get the credit they deserve, and the means to make a living.

What I meant to do when I called attention to the bias in Caleb's translation, was raising awareness that there was bias to begin with. Cause most people in the western fandom don't read japanese, and have no way of knowing that the english text differs from the source in nuance. My aim was to make it so that people could know to look for said bias, spot it, and understand that the original text is more complex than the english release would make it out to be. And that's cause I'm a meta blogger. Discussing writing and its nuances is what I do, and that means commenting on the wordings of things too. Believe it or not, writing is all about phrasing. Words have power. Words can change or otherwise affect people's perception of things without them realizing. That's the entire purpose of propaganda for example. Propaganda relies so heavily on word choice that there's entire fields of academic research dedicated to the analyses of its patterns (for example, political discourse analysis is a branch of said field). With this of course I'm not implying that Caleb is attempting to put propaganda in his translation. I'm making an example to show that phrasing holds power, and that misusing it can have consequences on how people perceive a product, and even interact with it. Even if sometimes the consequences are just a fandom so unsympathetic for the villains, it starts being aggressive towards anyone who feels any sort of attachment towards them.

4. Similarly to point 3, I have never once encouraged harassment of Caleb on twitter. I don't follow him and I stopped reading his threads a few months ago, because his stance on the villains bothered me. And I encourage others to disengage with him on twitter as well if that is true for them too, because that's my stance on the matter. If people still choose to go over there and do callouts, or to demand explanations out of him, that's not on me. It's true, I was one of the first people who called attention to the issue, and I'll admit that I did so in pretty salty terms. That doesn't mean I'm responsible for how strangers on the internet choose to act by wrongly assuming my intentions with said posts. I never urged people to harass him. I have encouraged them to keep consuming his work critically instead. How that translates into me being an "instigator" is beyond me, but I was told that's what I did. Honestly, I don't think I'm anyone's babysitter. I have no control over other people's choices. However, I have control of my own platform, and I never used it to tell people to swarm his twitter with complaints.

fo clarity's sake, I firmly believe that demanding explanations on his translation on twitter is not only childish and inappropriate, but it's also a form of cyberbullying. The man's a professional so it's fair to have questions and gripes with his work, but that in no way entitles anyone to demand more labour out of him on social media, under the threat of calling him stuck up when he refuses to oblige. Let me remind you here once again that translators don't even make enough money with freelancing to make a decent living. Most of the time their work is underpaid because it's not properly regulated (at least, it's not in my country). You don't get paid per hour like other minimum wage employees. Caleb himself once said that he gets paid per page. So if a page is full of text and it takes him, say, three hours to translate, he will still get paid the same amount of money he'll get for translating a page with a single line of text.

So. No matter your gripes with his work, you're not entitled to demanding he explain his reasons on twitter. You're not entitled to his overtime, or to his time in general, when he already doesn't get paid enough for this. He, however, is allowed to block you for it. Cause you're being an asshole.

Besides, complaining or challenging him on twitter doesn't really make a difference. At most, something that could change the situation is reaching out to Viz to explain the situation and ask for a better quality and content check, but that too is dicey because (a) again, Viz doesn't have to listen to the complaints of weebs on the internet, even more so when the critics said weebs move against Caleb are almost entirely based on scans and raws that we get illegally. This could backfire spectacularly on us, because Viz could take the excuse to take legal action against the remaining distributors of illegal material. (b) we don't really know the inner workings of Viz anyway. We don't know who exactly oversees Caleb's work, not the extent through which his stuff is fact-checked. So we cannot complain that his work isn't submitted to a quality check in the first place

I hope this explains my stance on the matter. To clarify, no one's attacked me directly yet. But I've seen vagues and unrest in the fandom on this subject so I'd rather cover my bases before this escalates further. I urge you all to think carefully about this as well.

#Discourse #Thyandra.txt

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