#I love his blob form

[ygodmyy20]

Spirit cuddles. Sometimes shigeo just likes being in his spirit form. In this idea, he was sick so he couldn’t be with anyone physically, so he moved around as a spirit to still hang out with people. Teru thinks his spirit boyfriend is the best.

"He stays in Teru's lap like a kitty" - @sodasexual giving me prompts till forever my head is full of them.

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[kaylazer]

back on my bullshit (meeting men im in love with). Ben Schwartz is so kind and tall :-) I didn’t totally freeze like when I met the Jonas brothers but the selfies we took are blurry so 😔

(at least I have these bc I told sam to record the whole thing heheheh)

[encryptedlunacy]

Got to take some stuff home from the ceramics workshop I went to and the highlight has got to be the little tiger I made that went through so much character development he became a raccoon

Poorly made but much beloved <3

[parlerenfleurs]

I cannot believe someone as handsome as my beautiful boyfriend is with me. It's unscientific, seriously.

[cookinary]

Buddy doodles cuz he's been on my mind lately

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! yuuta, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, mean yuuta, dacryphilia

yuuta is kind of tired of being so sweet. he’s always been so nervous and almost too caring during your intimate nights, but he just craves more. especially when he knows how you get when he’s even a little rough.

so, of course, he’s just gonna test the waters. but, poor boy loses control and now he's in the deep end.

he’s got you folded up in the meanest mating press, his hipbones digging into your ass, but, more importantly, his cock bullying your poor cunt. he might've been a little rash—what kinda guy interrupts a relatively slow makout by practically ripping her clothes off? though, he is so obsessed with you like this that he just doesn't care.

you're sobbing. it's not a few tears of pleasure, it's fat blobs streaming down your cheeks, moans replaced with cries. it hurts. he’s slamming into your cervix relentlessly. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful—how’s he supposed to stop?

it's not his fault your salty tears make your pretty puffy cheeks glimmer in the dimness of his bedroom, that they compliment your skin so nicely. and it's certainly not his fault that, the harder you cry, the harder your pussy squeezes his aching dick.

“you're so pretty,” he mumbles.

“it feels so good, right?” he asks with a shaky smile, “so, so good, sweetie.” he’s talking to you like he’s not absolutely wrecking ur insides with an insane stamina.

you shake your head, sniffling. you’d be pushing him off you (or at least trying to get him to slow the fuck down) if he didn't have one hand digging around both your wrists.

“no?” he tilts his head in a faux innocence—now he’s just being a bitch, “your body says otherwise.”

he lets your legs fall on either side of his hips when he moves the hand he was holding them against you with the rub circles on your swollen clit. a moan, for the first time since he forced himself onto you tonight, slips from your mouth and cuts off a choked sob.

“feels awful, huh?” he almost laughs.

you’d never seen your yuuta like this. a sweet, respectful boy. maybe occasionally perverse, though it always seemed to be rooted in love and attraction to you, but this? he’s barely recognizable. he’s dirty and mean.

your clothes were all discarded sans your underwear. the cotton was rubbing against him uncomfortably. naturally he’s gotta get rid of it.

rrrrrriiiiiiiiiipppppppp! he breaks the dampened fabric with no effort at all.

“be quiet, hm?” he says it so sweetly, like yuuta. he shoves the panties into your open mouth with a grin that has to be evil. your cries and half-moans are muffled now, face scrunched up in discomfort at having to taste yourself.

“good,” he praises.

“yuuta, h-hurts,” you barely make out through the ball of fabric in your mouth.

his hips still for a moment, an expression of genuine pondering crossing his features. he knits his brows together and pinches his chin in thought. he lets his eyes wander over your form. face wet and flushed, body covered in his teeth marks and goosebumps, legs shaking like a leaf—he has his answer.

he starts up his movements again, pounding into you somehow harder. you cry out loudly, the broken sound barely even muffled. he smiles so sweetly, that smile thst you love.

“i don't care, pretty girl.”

[sunshine7queen]

@yuujispinkhair @windlullaby @thefallofruins

[c0s-lettuce]

wonder - sergei kravinoff x reader

gender not mentioned

synopsis: you and sergei have always had a friends-with-benefits sort of relationship. but it teeters on something more and more each time he sees you.

word count: 1026

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of violence, minimal swearing

a/n: aaron taylor-johnson, what a man. i think this is the fastest i've written a fic after watching the movie/show. hope you enjoy reading! <3

Sergei and his father have always had their differences. The patriarch would always prattle on about weakness and fear. It was exhausting and mostly certainly not something Sergei missed.

You were a weakness, though. Sergei was sure of this. He kept very few people in his life, and all were for good reason. You were the only exception. He ought to stay away from you, for your sake and his. But he could never bring himself to do so, no matter how hard he tried.

Initially, your relationship with Sergei was purely transactional. Your body for his, and he would be out of your hair soon after. It didn't take long for that to change. He knew he was beginning to grow attached, but he didn't care. He was sure the feeling was mutual.

You were like a balm for his soul, a remedy for the loneliness his line of work brought him. The only intimacy he had with other people was when he was driving sharp objects into the necks of his targets. His hunts were intense and chaotic, but they were something he knew well and was exceptionally good at.

Being intimate with you wasn't so different, except it was infinitely more beautiful. Sergei revelled in the way you trusted and desired him, in how you consumed each of his senses. And the way you fit against him made him wonder more than once whether the two of you were made for each other.

But there were days when he craved more than just your body. He would find himself longing for your gentle embrace and honeyed words. You offered him more affection than he deserved, more than whatever this casual arrangement called for. Yet you gave anyway, and he was all too eager to take.

He adored the feeling of your lips against his forehead and your fingers in his hair as he rested beside you, basking in the blissful state you would leave him in. He would rest his head on your chest, and your heartbeat would drown out the otherwise unbearable noises of your apartment building. And he would fall asleep in your arms.

Sergei was an enigma to you. When it came to his profession, both of you agreed that the less you knew, the better. It was strange, you thought. You were aware of his reputation. But he was so sweet with you, so vulnerable. Sometimes, it made you wonder what else he could be with you. It's then when you would stop your train of thought and join him in sleep.

He would always wake first. And as he looked upon your sleeping form, he would tell himself that now is the best time to leave. And he would at first, with no more than a lingering glance. But the glance lingered longer each time.

He immediately knew he made a mistake the day he decided to stay. There was a particular look in your eyes when you woke up and found him still next to you. Sergei couldn't quite place it. Was it relief? Amusement? Hope?

No, he wouldn't let himself think it was anything akin to love.

Either way, it was addictive. He vowed to never miss any opportunities to see it again.

But on this occasion, Sergei seeks you out after an especially gruelling hunt. He sleeps deeper and for longer than usual. A soft, high-pitched meow wakes him in the morning. He opens his eyes and sees that you're gone. The door is ajar, and your voice can be heard talking to someone on the phone. You sound irritated.

Sergei finally turns his attention to the small blob that has taken your spot in the bed. Sitting there is your cat, Suki, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Hello," he greets her, his voice rough as he readjusts to the waking world.

Suki meows again as if replying to him. Sergei cracks a small smile and props himself up on his elbow. He scoops Suki closer, and she happily snuggles up to him. He busies himself with giving her scratches and belly rubs as he waits for you.

You return to the bedroom soon enough, looking down at your phone with disdain. You sit down on the edge of the bed with your back facing Sergei, tapping away at the screen.

"Everything alright?" he asks you.

"Yeah," you say, "Just my work deciding to bother me on a Saturday morning."

"What do they want?"

"To remind me of deadlines. Don't worry, I'm very politely telling them to fuck off."

Sergei lets out a chuckle. "Alright, good."

Suki's purrs fill the silence as you finish typing your angry text message. You place your phone down with a huff and look over to see Sergei pampering your cat. The sight warms your heart.

"You know, she sits and stares at the front door for at least twenty minutes everytime you leave," you tell him.

Sergei looks up at you, amused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think she loves you more than me," you reply.

Sergei laughs, looking back at Suki. "Is that right, киса? Do you love me?"

Again, she meows right on cue. You notice she's rather enthusiastic for a cat. Ignoring your daughter's betrayal, you lie back down beside Suki and her new dad. Your eyes fall closed, the comfort of sleep still tempting you.

"You got any plans for today?" Sergei asks after a moment.

"No," you answer, "Just hoping to relax."

He nods, but you don't see it. You also don't notice how he seems to be debating something with himself. After a few seconds, he makes up his mind.

"I'll make us breakfast then," Sergei says.

You open your eyes, surprised. He's never offered to do that before, let alone stayed long enough for you to offer it instead. When you turn to look at him, he's already getting up and heading to the door. Suki gets up after him, carelessly stepping over your stomach to follow him out of the bedroom.

As the pair disappear into the kitchen, you lie there in stunned silence, wondering what's gotten into Sergei. Though, you're definitely not complaining.

➸

[error-404-code9]

You know what I love…

When people’s superpowers get worse when they’re scared.

Like sympathetic nervous system is a-going, heart is racing, and your whole body thinks you’re in danger. So it tries to kick in your powers to protect itself. I’m taking:

People with electric powers shocking themselves when touching a door knob.

Water powers unconsciously forming a water bubble and spilling it on themselves.

Fire powers smelling smoke suddenly, only to look down at their hands and realize their hands are heating up and burning the sweat off their hands.

Super genius’ drawing a blank and stuttering when someone asks them a question.

People with super speed bouncing their leg up and down or fiddling with their fingers so fast, it looks like one massive blob

(And of course the famous example) Miles, and his spider powers, sticking to everything.

Superhumans and their powers need to be one. I think often we forget about the ‘human’ part. Superpowers being inconvenient is comedic, cool to see, and shows that their powers aren’t just a cool feature they can just turn on and off. It’s a part of them. Just… people’s powers messing up when they’re scared. Give it a thought

[sunshine7queen]

@yuujispinkhair @windlullaby @thefallofruins @quinnyundertow @ponderingmoonlight

◝　‿ 　　　The package was tiny, wrapped in soft paper with a glittering ribbon, and inside sat the cutest little blob version of Sukuna. Its squishy form looked almost innocent—definitely not something you'd expect from the King of Curses. A small note was tucked inside:

“Place me in a bowl of water tonight. Something magical will happen by morning!”

Smiling to yourself, you found the prettiest ceramic bowl, filled it with cool water, and gently set Blobkuna afloat. He bobbed lightly, looking even cuter under the soft glow of the moonlight. You whispered a goodnight to him before climbing into bed, excited for what might come.

Your dreams were cozy, filled with warmth and a strange sense of anticipation. But when you woke up, the sound of something cracking startled you. You sat up and blinked, rubbing your eyes in disbelief.

The bowl was broken into pieces on the floor—but more shocking was the figure sitting beside it. Ryomen Sukuna, in his true Heian-era form, stared at you with a curious tilt to his head. His four sharp eyes watched you, but there was something almost… playful in the way he raised a brow.

“You’re awake.” He said, his voice smoother than you expected. “You really went through all that trouble for a little surprise?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but his gaze wasn’t menacing. It was more like a cat watching its owner—mildly curious, maybe even amused. You swallowed hard, cheeks warm as you realized this was your doing.

Sukuna just huffed softly, glancing at the broken bowl. “Next time, maybe use something less fragile, hm?”　　𓈒 ꒱ა

[firebunnylover]

In transformers,

What are sparklings? Are they like robot babies?

YES!

They are a mostly fan concept however. Hasbro has been cowards and unfortunately haven't realized how good an idea it is.

Mostly cuz that opens the floodgates of robot pregnancy I assume.

With that said, IDW comics does touch on the concept as far as I understand, regarding protoforms where they start out like lil marshmallows, then grow into their basic robot forms.

I think that protoform is a scraplet, but I'm not terribly familiar with IDW continuity so take that with a grain of salt.

In TFA, Sari can technically count as one.

Prof. Sumdac found her as a lil protoform that somehow ended up in his lab and after touching her, she somehow absorbed his DNA and became humanlike.

We probably would have GOTTEN MORE INFO IN SEASON 4 ABOUT HER ORIGINS BUT WE DIDN'T GET SEASON 4!!

Personally, I love the idea that they start off as lil squishy marshmallow blobs, developing arms n legs later on as they develop, along with more rigid structures.

And I think sparklings could be one of the reasons why Cybertronian altforms' tend to have this conveniently open space in them that you can access. They can get carried around like how marsupial do

Also we can't forget the biggest contribution to Sparkling Ideas, the KOBD child - Wildbreak.

He had so many similar traits to the gay cat husbands that fans just took the idea he was their kid and RAN.

(old drawing of mine of KOBD family feat. sparklings Wildbreak and Override)

I don't draw KOBD family as much as I should, I apologize for that.

[oepionie]

— "AND WHILE YOU SLEEP, I'LL BE SCARED." overblot gang 

SYNOPSIS: Your lover waking up from a horrific nightmare and scrambling to listen to your heartbeat so he can make sure you're still alive.

⊹ [ cw ] — angst, hurt/comfort, overblot, blood, glass shards injury, anxiety/panic attacks, insecurities, mentions of death, crying (them)◞

⊹ [ tags ] — ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP. GN! READER | riddle tears his room apart, leona feels immense guilt, caring leona, azul having a panic attack, vil being an absolute mess, vil speaks german, shy idia, jamil injures himself accidentally, jamil calls you 'albi' (my heart), malleus immortality angst ◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞

✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

It's far past his scheduled time for sleep.

A bitter taste is bubbling up in his throat and frothing against his tongue. Riddle doesn't know what this wretched feeling is. All he knows is that he's terrified. Perhaps that's why he allows himself to disturb your sleep, the maddening emotions slamming against his head becoming too much for him to handle.

"I-I apologize for waking you," Riddle rasps, slipping into your shared bed and burrowing his face deep into the crook of your neck. His breaths come out in quick and fleeting puffs, heart thrumming hard against his ribs.

In the dimness of the night, the myriad of mangled and torn-up books that were strewn and flung about the room in a frenzied fury could hardly be seen. Your gaze flickered down to your lover. The tips of Riddle's fingers were a blistering raw red, his once well-groomed nails now visibly chipped at its ends.

With a touch of your tender hands, you pull him down to rest against your chest.

"What's wrong?"

"I–I just…I recalled the incident of my overblot and how I hit you with that blast. H-How you nearly—" Clamping his eyes tight, Riddle dared not to finish that sentence. The boy trembles in your arms—ears fervently straining to hear the steady and melodic thump of your heart, a melody he feared he would never hear again.

A choked sob tumbles from his lips and your chest aches.

"…I'm sorry," was his quiet cry. "I'm so sorry."

✩—LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Peacefully fast asleep, your back was nestled snug against the Leona's chest while his firm bicep protectively curled around your ribs.

Over the course of your relationship, Leona began to realize how much he loved having you in his arms. You were at peace when you slept, untouched and untainted by the stress and pain you dealt with every day.

He crept his free hand up your torso, cold fingers slipping underneath your shirt, skimming up your stomach, and settling above the spot on your chest where your heartbeat danced vividly against his touch. Leona splays his fingers out more, fixated on how the thrum of your life felt against his skin.

It was a daily struggle to keep his emotions at bay, ensuring that his strong feelings and magic wouldn't hurt you again. The nightmarish phantom of his blot still haunts him to this day. That wrath was an ugly and hideous beast he wished to keep locked away in the depths of his mind for all of eternity.

Yet, at the soft beat of your delicate heart against his sullied hands—Already, Leona finds himself wavering, uncharacteristically weak.

An overpowering mix of stress and strain washes over him, pooling up into watery blobs and flowing down his cheeks in faint streaks as he silently wept.

"Fuck," Leona curses, pulling your dozing form closer to him. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

✩—AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

The torment of nightmares was far worse than he remembered, but this dread he felt was unquestionably different, pressing in on him like a frigid cold. The icy sensation seeps into the marrows and dips of his flesh—his sole respite being your touch, which both warmed and scorched at his skin.

"Angelfish." Azul breathlessly sputtered, blindly patting around the bed in search of your body.

Through the fringes of his blacked out vision, he could barely make out your worried drowsy visage. This caused him to panic, pulse picking up, but you were quick to soothe him—reaching a hand out to press against his cheek. Finally finding you, the octo-mer pulled you towards his side of the bed, engulfing you in a tight hug.

Azul tried to stop the flood of tears that layered his face, but your soft lips strewn with kisses on his skin seemed to further elicit his unceasing cries. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Azul. I'm here." You whisper, cradling his face, but he was inconsolable. The octo-mer desperately clawed at your shirt as he pressed his ear deeper against your chest, practically melting into you.

The throbs of your heart echoed through his anguished mind, providing him with some semblance of comfort.

"Don't go….Please…" Azul sputters, body shaking from every deep, labored heave of his burning lungs, "Please."

✩—JAMIL VIPER:

A strangled scream awoke you from your abyssal sleep, your bleary eyes ripping open to dart here and there around the room in a manic frenzy. The ensuing shattering smash of a glass further threw your thoughts into disarray.

"Jamil?!"

Your lover had stumbled off of the bed, now kneeling against the wooden flooring with the bedsheets pooling around his hips, sheets damp from the shattered glass of water on the floor.

A bloody hand clenched at his palpitating heart, glass shards digging into his skin, as his lungs fought to maintain his breathing.

You sprang from the mattress and skidded in his direction, but Jamil scrambled away from you.

"Albi, no. There's glass. Stay away. You're going to get hurt," Jamil stammered. Holding a shaky hand up, the boy avoided your gaze.

"Jamil—" Brows pinched together, you eased towards him. "I'm not going to get hurt, don't worry."

You stepped over the shards of crystal glass with caution and made your way past, "See?"

Once you were within his reach, Jamil caved in and slowly brought you into his arms—careful with his injury. He could feel the distant sting of the cuts on his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Leaning down, he lay his head over your heart. Even though the batter of your heart was frantic and panicked, it somewhat provided a steady beat for him to follow as he worked to untangle the complexities in his thoughts. Your lover sunk against you, anchoring himself against the warmth your body radiated.

✩—IDIA SHROUD:

As the minutes pass, Idia was rapidly losing every meagre amount of confidence he managed to scrape together.

"Idia…honey? Please get up." You croon, running a hand through his flaming hair.

Though it seemed as if he didn't hear anything—Idia kept his head glued against your beating chest, refusing to get up from his position on the floor.

He's been kneeling before you for so long that the rough fabric of his pants burned and skidded against the tender skin of his knees, sending excruciating stings along the threads of his flesh.

"I—No…N-No…I can't." Idia's lips quiver, eyes glossing over as he diverts his gaze. The weight of his arms lay heavy against your legs, elbows resting by your knees while his dull nails dug into the skin at the back of your thighs.

"Why's that?" You whisper.

Idia shut his eyes. The flash of numerous dreams and nightmares he's suffered at the hands of his own demented twisted memories clouded his mind. It did not help that they were all molded out of his own self-inflicted pessimism...cruel and unforgiving. A reason as to why he couldn't bear to look at you tonight, not when the image of your mangled body was still fresh on his mind.

"I-I'm s-sor-sorry…I ca-can't get up…I need to…” he stumbles for words, his breathing picking up its pace. "I need to…need to know you're okay."

✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:

"Vil…" You worriedly murmur, pressing your lips against his mascara-stained cheeks, not minding the bitter aftertaste it left lingering in your mouth.

Laying atop the plush silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the dorm leader's eyes were ripped wide open as his chest heaved viciously. It was quite a rare sight as your lover lay vulnerable before you, heart bared open.

Oh, he was an absolute mess.

Dark streams of teary mascara ran down Vil's cheeks, his uniform wrinkled and his golden hair splayed out everywhere—unbound from its braids and tangled up.

The grip of his arms around your midsection tightens as he pressed you up closer against him, his head resting atop your chest. At the sound of your heartbeat, Vil allowed himself to unwind and let your affections banish away even the most ominous of his thoughts.

"Liebling…Es tut mir ehrlich Leid—" Vil rasps, his mother tongue dripping like honey from his lips as he suddenly found it difficult to speak the language he was so accustomed to every day.

Hushing him, you press a fleeting kiss against his brow line and Vil clamps his red-rimmed eyes shut, ceasing to say anything more.

"Hush now. Rest, my prince." You press a gentle kiss to his temple and brush the frizzes of his blonde hair away from his face.

A small smile quirks on his lips as he feels his stomach fluttering from the nickname. The look in his eyes is softly lit, warm like a candle.

✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:

One day, Malleus knows, you will be nothing more than wilted and withered ash.

It was a truth that wrapped around him like shackling chains—tearing, whipping and lashing against his raw, bare skin. No matter how hard he pulled, scratched, and screamed at it, the chains remained.

The clanging and grating iron truth about reality cannot be so easily pushed away. Human lives are fickle, and you would inevitably leave him.

Once you do, the fae prince knows he will be a mere shadow of his former self, a wretched and lonesome creature awaiting and longing for his lover who was no more than a ghost of his fleeting memories.

"I apologize for the disturbance, my treasure."

And yet, Malleus presses his hand firmly against your beating heart. A distant marching beat serving as his reminder that you were very much alive and well.

"I truly apologize." Malleus heaves, hands clamouring against your collarbone.

Although thick tension and silence still hung heavy in the air, the dragon basked in the warmth and feel of your flushed skin, a bitter smile gracing his lips as he lay beside you on the bed.

"Sweet dreams, beastie…"

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn   @skadi-winterfell @mushroomchaos101 @rainybeebs @taruruchi @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri

[its-rat-time-babey]

I love how Danny Phantom villains really are just:

The actual ghost of Nikola Tesla

Blob in a mech suit

Teenage singer that tragically died in a house fire

Literally just a fucking genie

Some rich old guy who REALLY needs therapy

The Box Ghost

Bullied kid from the 50s who’s heavily implied to have taken his own life

14 year old with a hoverboard and a gun

Government funded Ghost Cops

Actual Ghost Cops

A decades year old shadow demon that assumes the form of a human and feeds off the misery they create

His own parents

Himself

[rainy-day-revelry]

As many people have mentioned, Dream is very good about framing things to make himself sound right and other people sound unreasonable. But not a single video or post he has made so far can convince me that he is doing this with good intentions, because of the way he speaks towards everyone else involved and those he dragged in.

Now I mainly picked up on this with Tubbo and Tommy, but there are hints of it towards his viewers too: he speaks to us all like we’re children. The way a parent talks to a child they’re trying to gently reprimand, or the way a teacher talks about a subject in class. He speaks like we would never be able to come to these conclusions without his help and that he needs to guide us through it all or we’d get lost in the sea of information. And sure, plenty of his viewer base are kids, but the majority of people who would be watching this drama are fans from the Dream SMP era who knows all these people and remembers when they all used to talk and hang out. We may have been kids back then, but it’s coming up on half a decade since that server began; we’re not kids anymore. I myself started watching the DSMP when I was a underclassman in high school, I’m in college now. All the people he called the R-slur, the people who were offended and wanted an apology that he took days to properly deliver, most of us are adults. We can form our own conclusions, and we’re not an amorphous blob of opinions and views, we’re our own people.

This is especially bad when talking about it to Clingyduo, especially Tubbo. In his 3 hour stream he continually talks about Tubbo being misguided, and despite saying he has great respect for Tubbo and his opinions he skips context and actual criticism multiple times or, as Tubbo mentions, tunnel visions on one part of the criticism he can target and tosses the rest out with it when he’s done. He doesn’t give two shits about what Tubbo says unless it’s something he can use against the people criticizing him to make them sound disingenuous. With Tommy it’s worse, because when he’s not villainizing him beyond belief he’s using that condescending tone to talk about how proud he is and how he thought Tommy was special, which explains why Tommy felt so much pressure from him and like he owed him his success, or at least that Dream thought as much. He holds his approval over his head, like an abusive parent who just spent hours screaming in your face about how much of a disappointment you are before telling them “Of course I still love you.” It has the underlying tone of “you’ll make up for this slight, won’t you?”

And don’t even get me started about the DMs to both Tommy and Sarah. It’s fine to explain your feelings, but you’re not explaining them, you are blaming these feelings and reactions on them and telling them “You are the reason I’ve been suffering, it’s your fault for all of these horrible things that other people have been doing to me.” That’s not explaining your feelings, that’s guilt tripping and expecting an apology. That’s how long texts like that come across, that you don’t want the other person to be able to interject, you don’t want to make this a conversation, you want to drop your feelings and leave them to clean up the mess.

Dream’s a manipulative jerk, that’s all this has proved to me.