#but I would not be surprised at all if it does happen

[potterhead0taku]

My core subjects in school are math or math-related, and I can confidently say… I have been in this position more than once, and the urge to just lay on the floor and wait for death is nearly irresistible

math nation does this happen to you too

[aventurineswife]

🤔 do u have a thought about shrau with amphoreus ?

If I'm not wrong, they just believe in titan as their god right? What about shrau amphoreus with reader as a creator?

Like just Imagine it, when they knew about reader as a creator or aeon reader and how they will react

OKAY OKAY, I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT THIS BUT HEAR ME OUT!

If Amphoreus is a world that reveres Titans as gods, then suddenly discovering the Reader (aka you) as a Creator/Aeon would shake their entire belief system to its core. The Chrysos Heirs, warriors devoted to slaying corrupted Titans and recovering their Coreflames, would have to face the terrifying realization that the entity they’ve been unknowingly serving might be above the very gods they worship.

The Chrysos Heirs—Mydei, Phainon, Castorice—are devoted to prophecy and divine will. If they discovered that the true weaver of fate, the one who oversees their struggles and triumphs, is actually you, their entire worldview would fracture.

Mydei, the Undying Warrior, might react with reverence, but also conflict.

"The Coreflame trials, the prophecy, the Titans... were they mere threads in your tapestry? Have I only been playing my part in a story you have already written?"

He would feel both honored and trapped—knowing that his fate was not his own but also that his suffering had purpose.

Phainon, the Deliverer, might be the first to fully embrace you.

"If you are the one who spins the threads of destiny, then everything we have done… it has been for you, hasn’t it?"

He’d see it as a blessing, a sign that their struggles were leading toward something far greater. He might fully devote himself to you, no longer just as a warrior, but as a disciple.

Castorice, the Daughter of the River Styx, would have an eerie calm about it.

"Death and fate have always danced hand in hand. If you are the one who weaves, then I have been treading upon your strings all my life."

She might not even be surprised—only resigned, knowing that she had always been walking the path you had set.

The people of Amphoreus, especially those who still worship Titans as gods, would be terrified. If they learn that their world is merely a fragment of your design, it could split the faction into two:

Those who believe the Titans are still divine, and you are merely another force in the cosmos.

Those who believe you are the true god—the one above all, the being who even Titans obey.

Some might fall into despair, realizing that their gods are no more than pieces of a larger game board, and that your will can rewrite their fate at any moment. Others might become fanatical, believing that serving you is the only true path.

The Coreflames, remnants of the Titans’ divine power, might now take on an entirely new meaning—if the Titans were once creations under your will, then does that mean their power also stems from you?

If Mydei and Phainon failed the Coreflame Trial, was it because you willed it?

Phainon, who vanished after the trial, might see it as a test from you—a call to prove himself.

Mydei, bound by honor and sacrifice, might struggle with whether his suffering was truly his own choice… or merely an inevitable step in the story you wrote.

The most horrifying realization for them? That every battle, every struggle, every death was something you already knew would happen.

If Mydei has died a thousand times, then you—the Aeon of Fate—must have allowed it each time.

"You… knew? Every strike, every wound, every death I suffered—you saw them all?"

The idea that they were never free, that their victories and failures were written into existence, could be devastating.

Some would see you as salvation rather than as a distant, cosmic force. They’d offer the Coreflames to you as divine tribute, seeing them not as remnants of fallen Titans, but as pieces of a world you once shaped.

The most devout warriors might seek to serve you personally, casting aside their oaths to the Titans and the prophecy.

Mydei, should he fully accept your will, might become your sword of fate, carrying out your judgment across Amphoreus.

Phainon, ever the perfectionist, might strive to prove himself worthy in your eyes, seeking to become your chosen deliverer.

Castorice, attuned to the whispers of death, might become your priestess, ensuring that those who fall in battle meet their end as fate intended.

Once the truth of your existence reaches Amphoreus, the world would never be the same. The Titans' worshippers, the Chrysos Heirs, the Coreflame Trials—everything would shift under the weight of the realization that you have always been watching.

Some will fight for you.

Some will fear you.

Some will desperately seek your favor.

But no matter how they react, one truth remains: they were never beyond your reach.

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything in he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?

[inksandpensblog]

he is never portrayed as an ACTIVE participant in murdering sticks. he attacks nonlethally (except for dark, because he knows that dark wouldn't die from it) when dark starts killing people on stickpage, cho does nothing. during the newgrounds attack, he does NOTHING. during Wanted? he doesn't kill ANY of the mercs. he easily could've, but he just ran.

Before this episode, it had always been my interpretation that Chosen had never killed any stickfigures directly. By this I mean, he never killed anyone from a position like he would've killed Dark if he'd gone through with it in AvA3. He never watched the light leave anyone's eyes. He never felt the ticks of an electrical pulse cease beneath his hands. It was always from a distance. It was always bright. It was always loud.

My evidence for this was always AvA3 itself (Chosen has killed before! He killed AIM in AvA2! He and Dark killed every icon that had sprung to life on the computer in AvA3!), as well as the two stills of StickPage and Newgrounds during The Flashback. From what we could see, Chosen's destructiveness always halted when it came to stickfigures, and sparing Dark was the first evidence of this.

(And there's also the fact that he freaks out when he thinks he realizes that Dark's viruses are gonna massacre stickfigures...even though all the evidence in Dark's workshop and the cliffside portals suggests that Dark was targeting computer IPs and user-aimed websites rather than animation-hosting sites. Interesting conclusion for Chosen to jump to.)

My belief was, that if Chosen had taken any stickfigure lives, they would've been collateral rather than targets.

And I've always been vocal about this belief that Chosen doesn't want to hurt stickfigures. I've gone on multiple tangents about it.

however

It's entirely possible that Mitsi was collateral rather than a target.

(Also I personally don't trust the fire animation to tell us because the series has a habit of changing how it's stylized multiple times within a single season. I have driven myself insane on multiple occasions over this.)

WITH THAT ALL SAID, my actual reason for not buying that Dark killed Mitsi has nothing to do with the fire or the attack-pattern or the camera work or the bizarre lengths this season has gone to ignore Dark’s existence or whatever, and everything to do with themes.

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, The Dark Lord is dead.

If Victim finds out that he was wrong to blame Chosen and the fault lies with Dark instead, what happens to his motivation?

He can’t get revenge on a dead person.

Is his anger and grief supposed to just quietly fizzle out because it no longer has a target?

(And who knows how this would complicate his efforts to get revenge on the animator, since that was something he was pursuing THROUGH his revenge on Mitsi’s killer.)

But even if Dark is still alive…

This season has set up to explore a theme of “just because you’re a better person now doesn’t mean you aren’t still responsible for the consequences of your past actions” with the characters of the animator and The Chosen One both.

If Chosen isn’t the one who killed Mitsi, then what action of his past is he meant to take responsibility for? Scaring unknown numbers of background cameos that don’t receive any narrative focus? Decimating a population that we only saw through the eyes of a few specific characters, who were all focused on Mitsi?

The decimation has the story impact that it does because Mitsi was our focal character while it happened, and she was one of the casualties. She represents that tragedy as a whole.

If Chosen isn’t the one who killed her, he may still be responsible for killing others but the story is gonna drop that thread because if he’s not responsible for killing Mitsi specifically then he has no responsibility for Victim’s grief.

I don’t think "surprise, Chosen killing Mitsi was a red herring, it was actually Dark" is where the story is headed, because it would leave Victim directionless and undermine the arc being set up for Chosen’s character.

in fact, TCO has never killed a stick figure directly. ever.

this post is pretty much a compilation and explanation of stuff that i think pretty clearly points to this FACT. i am EXTREMELY confident this is canon

the biggest indicator of this is that mitsi dies to a thrown fireball.

alan gives us a very clear set of abilities for each of the sticks, and although cho and dark both use fire, it’s clear they use it very differently

dark has these explosive fireballs that he throws that chosen NEVER uses. they share some powers as shown in The Flashback (fire breath, general pyrokinesis, flight using fire)

the fireballs are a power EXCLUSIVE to dark.

there’s examples of chosen throwing fire (like in this one above) but it looks entirely different. it’s lighter, airy, and doesn’t explode on impact. alan has made it so clear how different they are in the episodes leading up to AvA 11. the Box and Wanted was practically a showcase of all chosen’s abilities. ALAN IS TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING HERE…

lets talk about the newgrounds attack.

during that whole sequence with mitsi when she first is teleported into the background, there’s two important details to notice.

dark is leading the way. chosen is trailing behind him IT’S ALL FIREBALLS. EVERY SINGLE ATTACK. EXPLOSIVE FIREBALLS.

when mitsi is trapped, it’s because of a fireball. when she dies, you’ll never believe this:

EXPLOSION. FIREBALL. no lightning, no light and airy pyrokinesis, no laser eyes. it’s all those damn fireballs

my boy got caught in the fray. all this pretty clearly shows us that dark is to blame for all of this. cho just got all the heat bc agent saw him above mitsi and tattled to his boyfriend who controls the media

i HONESTLY would go as far as to say that chosen was there because he was flying over to try and help mitsi. that one is just a theory though. the rest of this post i’m 100% certain about

he is never portrayed as an ACTIVE participant in murdering sticks. he attacks nonlethally (except for dark, because he knows that dark wouldn't die from it) when dark starts killing people on stickpage, cho does nothing. during the newgrounds attack, he does NOTHING. during Wanted? he doesn't kill ANY of the mercs. he easily could've, but he just ran.

let me be clear: chosen is not free from blame. he let a lot of this slide. he was still friends with dark after the newgrounds attack, even if it left an impact on their relationship. he let dark kill HUNDREDS without stopping him.

that being said, victim’s got the wrong guy. let’s bring dark back and kill him again please i miss him BAD

TL;DR: at the end of the day it’s always TDL’s fault and by extension alan’s for making him Like That. let’s just blow up his PC again and call it even

[seobinghard]

PIERCING — k.hj

[ ☆ ] summary: hongjoong needs help with his ear piercings. or he just really needs you.

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!kq employee!reader. tags: idol!au, older!reader (two years), fluff, suggestive. tw: suggestive, slight dubcon, hongjoong's very possessive. he's a red flag ngl. mind games. mind games. mind games. this work does not depict hongjoong irl in any way, obvi. wc: 0.5k i think.

there's something so intimate about helping hongjoong remove his ear piercings.

he'd injured his right hand during dance practice a week ago; ring finger, now wrapped in a splint, black like his hair, ruffled and a bit overgrown after the europe tour.

you're not supposed to be here—in the quiet of his studio, you should be back at your desk finalising the concept design for the boys' next photoshoot for dazed but how are to say 'no' when your favourite boy asks you so sweetly, "noona, can you help me?"

hongjoong sits comfortably in his studio chair, legs spread apart so you can stand in between.

he's wearing black jeans–washed out and ripped at the knees–with a plain black tee; simple, clean. nothing spectacular. yet you can't help but feel breathless in his presence; suffocating, almost.

breathing in, you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, fingers deftly removing his silver conch piercing, then the hoop, then another, placing the jewellery one by one on a the desk behind you. you can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath burn against the skin of your forearm as he slowly leans into your touch like a pet would its owner. "like you touching me." he purrs softly, voiced laced with a flirtatious lilt. without warning, his hand glides gently up the back of your thigh, pulling you toward him as he looks up at you with a feline smirk, "like touching you more."

surprise paints your face, but you don't move. "j-joong, what are you doing?"

"i missed you," he murmurs, arms slipping around your waist as he rests his head against your chest. "did you miss me too?"

you and hongjoong are close, but you've always kept it professional, at least you tried to. he can cross a line or two–like now, but you've always been quick to shut his advances down. you know he likes you. and maybe you do too, but with how green you are in your career, you wouldn't risk it for a coworker's affection, especially not one so prominent and promising.

so you choose ignore his question and the heat in cheeks, and quietly move onto his other ear. "just ... tilt your a head a little for me?"

he does as told, reluctantly pulling away from your body. you can tell from the hitch in his breathing that he's not pleased. "you're avoiding me."

you are.

"i'm not." your words left your mouth a bit too quick for your liking. "i'm here, am i not?" you smile, praying he doesn't catch onto your desperation to dash out his studio and back to your little safe corner in the marketing office.

"you're glancing at the clock every second, do you need to be somewhere?" hongjoong asks, feigning concern.

he doesn't care if you need to be somewhere; you're right where you're meant to be. with him. and now that he has you right in front of him after three long months of being on tour overseas, of not seeing your pretty face and hearing your pretty voice call out his name, he'd be a fool to let you slip away anytime soon—not now. not ever.

"you're nervous," he whispers, grabbing your wrist.

you freeze, turning to him with flustered eyes. "what are you–"

slowly and steadily, hongjoong rises to his feet and before you can even process what's happening, you're backed against the desk, caged in his arms. "don't be nervous, baby. it's just you and me. you know me."

do you? because the last time you thought did, you agreed to help him remove his piercings—only to realise his intention was to trap you here in his studio all along.

you avert your gaze when joong leans in, but your defiance only makes his grin grow even wider. "noona," he whines, caressing your cheek ever-so-tenderly, "don't be like this."

he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips on yours.

"joong, stop–" there's restraint in your voice, but it's quickly put out by his kiss as he tightens his hold on your nape, pulling you into him until your frown melts into moans, until your body completely gives out and you're nothing but a putty mess in his arms to catch, to protect, to care for. just like how he intended for you to be—all his.

"you have no idea how long i wanted this," he groans against your neck, leaving a trail of hot, heavy kisses on your skin before returning to your lips, breathing heavily, "you didn't answer my question. did you miss me? hm? tell me i've been on your mind like how you've been on mine."

there's an aching need in his voice, his eyes wide and pleading as if hearing a 'no' would crush him to pieces. you can tell him the truth; that yes—yes, you did think about him day and night, think about when you'd see him again, his name gnawing at you like a storm you can't escape. but, he also tricked you into his studio. two can play this game.

so, you tell him, "no. i don't."

hongjoong lets out a wry laugh, immediately catching onto the tremor in your voice. "fuck, my baby's a liar."

you're never leaving his studio.

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved. / m.list

a/n: chewing iron bars rn i need him so bad. this was supposed to be one paragraph LMAO tell me how we ended up here.

[fuctacles]

<< twelve | 😺 | fourteen >>

"I'm gonna grab another." Steph shakes the empty bottle in her hand. "You want one too?"

Why isn't she kicking him out?

"I'll do it," Eddie offers quickly, jumping off the couch. "I know where everything is."

She's a bit surprised by the offer, but lets him take away the bottle without protest.

The kitchen isn't exactly hidden away in the layout of the apartment, but it shields him enough to have a silent freak out. He's not sure what's the end goal here. If she knows he's into her but isn't interested in anything herself, why let him stay? Are they supposed to sit in the acknowledged attraction as friends? It just might cost Eddie the last shreds of his sanity. 

He presses the cold beers to his cheeks before uncapping them and heading back to the couch. 

"Thank you." Steph takes the offered bottle. There's a remote in her other hand. "You wanna watch something? Family Feud should be starting soon."

A tactical change of topic, but what else could there be to talk about?

"Sure," he nods. When he sits back down, it feels like they've gotten closer, but it might be his mind simply playing trick on him.

They exchange small commentary, drinking and snacking on popcorn, a relaxing evening not dissimilar to what he could have with Wayne. But then, his hand scrapes against the bottom of the bowl. After they pick a couple of edible strays from between unpopped kernels, Steph leans forward to put the empty bowl on the table. When she falls back against the couch, she's definitely closer than before. 

Eddie jumps when she pats his knee.

"Relax, I don't bite," she says, eyes glued to the screen. Only then does he realize how tense he's gotten and forces his muscles to loosen up. He sits more comfortably, their shoulders brushing when one of them raises the beer to their lips. 

That distance also seems to be shortening, until Steph is leaning against him.

"Hey," he ducks his head down to take a look at her face. "You falling asleep on me?"

"No," she protests weakly. "'m watchin'."

Her eyes are indeed stubbornly half-open. He chuckles. 

"Okay, but if you need me to go, just tell me. I'll even tuck you in," he offers.

She giggles, pressing herself firmer against his side, and it takes all of his willpower not to wrap his arm around her. It would be a step too far. 

"What's so funny?" he asks instead, gently nudging her shoulder. 

"Nothing," she says innocently. "Just, Robin gives me a good night's kiss when she tucks me in."

Eddie twists his head again to look at her face. She's biting at her bottom lip and her eyes are glued to the screen.

"Well, whatever you need for a good night's sleep," he reassures her. And, realizing some hearts might end up broken no matter what he does, he raises his arm to rest it on the couch. He doesn't dare wrap it around Steph's shoulders, but at least it's not stuck uncomfortably between their bodies. 

With the show on screen slowly coming to an end, and the beer running through his system, he could happily fall asleep where he's sitting. But the overhead lights are still on, and he knows, deep in his gut, that it was a precaution to keep their hang out friendly. Gods only know what would happen if they were covered in the intimacy of a movie night's semi-darkness. 

When the TV host says his goodbyes, Steph blinks her heavy eyelids unhappily.

"I have work tomorrow," she grumbles with disdain, like the mere thought leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. 

Eddie huffs out a laugh.

"You do." He pats her shoulder sympathetically. "But you're also the boss, and you're not gonna fire yourself for being late, are you?" He cocks his head. 

Steph hums thoughtfully, before turning her head towards him, eyes narrowed. 

'You're a bad influence, you know that?"

"So I've been told," he grins, before disentangling himself from her warmth, because they've gotten way too close, and her mouth was right there for him to do something enormously stupid. "Let's clean up and I'll tuck you to bed like I've promised."

"I have to close up behind you," she reminds him with a twist of her mouth.

He looks up at her, empty bottles in hands. 

"You really should invest in a spare key, you know?"

"Very thoughtful, thanks," she looks at him flatly, before swatting at him playfully. 

"I mean, what if something happens?" he continues, gathering everything before she can grab it herself, and ignoring her protests. "Like, there's a fire and we have to save your cats?"

"Then, by all means, you're welcome to axe my door."

"I don't own an axe!" he points out with wide eyes. 

"I'm pretty sure Wayne does."

Eddie huffs, dumping the greasy bowl from their popcorn in the sink. 

"Yeah, probably."

He insists on cleaning the bowl, swatting away Steph's hands when she tries to take it away from him. But eventually, he's drying his hands and it's time to leave. 

"Well, thank you for having me, I had a great time," he smiles, stalling. 

"Me too." Steph smiles back. "Come over any time."

"Same time tomorrow?" he picks up the offer immediately, grinning as he slowly backs up towards the door.

"Sure, why not," Stephanie shrugs, and he didn't expect her to agree so easily. But then, she crosses her arms. "You know, just so I won't go insane talking to my cats."

"Not my words!" he reminds her with his hands raised placatingly. He stumbles into his discarded shoes, and it's probably high time to stop pushing his luck anyway. With less grace than he'd like while the woman of his dreams is watching, he steps into them, and springs back up, ready to say goodbye. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Wait, wait wait!" 

He cocks his head curiously, and is a bit disappointed when Steph presses conditioner into his hands. 

"Ah, right. I totally forgot." He laughs awkwardly. But then, she's not letting go, so he looks up at her with a questioning sound. 

Her eyes are glued to his mouth.

"You want your good night kiss?" he asks without thinking.

Thankfully, neither of them might be doing it right now.

"How else am I supposed to fall asleep?" Steph counters with a slight pout, briefly raising her gaze to meet his eyes. 

This time, they lean in together. 

It's soft and hesitant like they are each a delicate, porcelain statue. Like it is a good night kiss, one of many, closing the day with tenderness and care, with no plans to start anything more. It still leaves Eddie short on oxygen, too focused on the woman in front of him to think about something as trivial as breathing. 

"Goodnight." Steph breaks away first with a soft smile.

Eddie nods stupidly, hands still clutching the bottle in his grasp. 

"Goodnight."

tags:

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore 

@icecat @rootbeerandmusic

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: Silliness V

If you mean Watchdog Ford by @nowimjustastranger, whom is sometimes called "Guard Dog Ford" Those two aren't friends. They just happen to run into each other a statistically impossible amount of times in the multiverse.

Any and all reports that they've saved each other skin at least once, and hang out sometimes are just rumours spread by their mutual ally (ALLY not friend) the Anti-Ford.

If you mean Guard Ford from the AU by @skeptiql... it's their AU, I'm not imposing on it.

If there is a cosmic security guard out there monitoring the Fordverse, considering that all Jerk Ford does in the multiverse is be a total jerk to everyone and cause trouble (and then get banned from dimensions for the two aforementioned reasons), I imagine reactions to him are typically going to be:

He's not heinous, malicious, or evil, he's just a really big jerk for no good reason.

---

Me and @nowimjustastranger are in the process of proper crossover, don't worry.

In the meantime...

Pre-Weirdmageddon:

Jerk Ford: Watch, this is Stanley. Stanley, this is Watchdog Ford and Lee.

Watchdog Ford: ...

Lee: ...

Stan: Well heya pal. It's nice to see Stanford's made more friends! I knew he had it in him to be nice and compassionate.

Jerk Ford: Stanley, I swear to God.

Watchdog Ford:...You're-

Lee: You're tall.

Stan: *looks between Watchdog Ford and Jerk Ford in an exaggerated up-and-down to annoy his brother*

Stan: *to Watchdog Ford* So are you.

Lee: *grinning* Oh, we're going to get along just fine. Let's chat.

---

Watchdog Ford: You... You aren't suffering?

Stan: If you don't call grading two hundred student assignments without assistance suffering, then sure.

Lee: ...nothings wrong?

Stan: Right now, no. I did miss my brother for the thirty years he was gone. It wasn't easy... the townsfolk truly believed I murdered him, and thought that was a good thing. And then acted like I was wrong for missing him.

Lee: So everything went okay for you?

Stan: I don't know what to tell you, pal- excluding not having Stanford in my life for thirty years and the issues that comes with that, things are going fine. If I'm having trouble I can just ask someone for help, and if I have problems emotionally I have friends and family that would lend me an ear or two. Also, I am medicated and seeing a therapist for stuff.

Lee: ...

Meanwhile Jerk Ford is in the corner sipping from his #1 Big Brother mug, and Watchdog Ford gets suspiciously misty eyed.

[Dialogue primarily by @tearosepedall]

---

It's a misconception at that Jerk Ford does not experience empathy (or at least not any for anyone besides his twin brother). This misconception is one of the reasons why The Ford Hate Club is always tripped up by him - they don't understand him. They think he's unfeeling with little to no emotional intelligence.

He has a surprising amount of empathy, you can see in this post he even says that most other Fords do not hate their Stanley, what they really have is resentment.

Jerk Ford just uses that empathy to know how to get under peoples skin and really hurt their feelings. Can't hurt feelings very well if you don't know what they are or how they work!

What he does lack is compassion, as in he doesn't help, support, or uplift people. That's a Stanley thing.

---

Jerk Ford: Your attack misses.

Dipper: Misses?! With my bonuses I had a total of twenty-three to hit!

Jerk Ford: That doesn't even touch the monsters THAC0.

Dipper: THAC0? Great Uncle Ford, 3.5 Edition is over! It's armour class now!

Jerk Ford: I'm the DM, and I rule your attack misses.

Dipper: *flips the battlemap, forgetting that the infinity dice is there*

---

Jerk Ford had such a bad habit of getting engrossed into his research and study that he would overlook things like finances (and showering). Stanley managed the finances between himself and and his brother, and he did send money back to the family, not millions but it was something.

Jerk Ford also had most of the money because he had his grant, and also a few patents, but Jerk Ford only cared about anamolies and terrorizing humanity so money wasn't something he thought about very much as long as their basic needs were being met.

When he lived back in Glass Shard Beach with his family, however...

"We should go graffiti Pines Pawns."

"Hell no, dude."

"What, you scared of Old Man Pines?"

"Forget Old Man Pines, don't know know what his son did to Crampelter? We don't need to be on his sh*t list."

[marscantread7]

i saw ur post and thought abt caleb being tied to the bed and blindfolded and he has to guess if its xavier or mc sucking his cock or he wont get to cum🤭

OH MY DAYS MMMFFFFGGGGHH ANON I JS CAME🤤🤤🤤 OMFG WHAT... that's actually so smart, like honestly!

Truly, like he thought he could be so cocky, saying he has their mouths memorized like the palm of his hand. He would be able to tell who's sucking him off, easy. Well... they decided to put him to the test.

Xavier was the one who tied him up, bc obviously he has experience w/ that... ofc he does. And mc putting that silly sleep mask w/ the eyes on to blindfold him, and they lay out the rules.

"We're gonna start easy. First, we're gonna use our hands. Should be easy to tell those apart right? Then we're gonna use our whole mouth, next our tongues, then our lips, and last our teeth. For bonus, we'll each use a finger or rub our cheeks on this pretty little thing. Good enough right?" And all Caleb could do was nod. He was so fucked...

"And if u get even ONE thing wrong, we're gonna edge u so good, and we know how vocal u get, so we have a little surprise to keep u quiet. Is all this okay?" Once again, Caleb nodded, giving them the confirmation to go ahead.

....

Yeah he was fucked, he was completely and utterly fucked. Mc tied her hair up in a tight bun so there was no telling whose mouth this was. Two levels in and he was alr struggling, whining desperately, bucking up. Fuck, and they were both completely silent, not answering him at all, so it was impossible to guess who this was.

"F-f-fuck.. mmmmggggggghhhh please- my god- Mc right??? It's mc right?!" His voice was so high pitched and whiny, and he heard it. A laugh... that didn't come from the mouth on his cock... and it sounded exactly like mc...

"Wrong." Caleb yelped as a piece of fabric was shoved in his mouth, moaning when he realizes it was Xavier's fucking boxers, coated in both of their cum.

Xavier popped off his cock, clearing his throat. "Better luck next time. Knock on the headboard twice when ur abt to cum. There will be. Consequences if u cum w/o permission."

And Caleb's back flew into the most beautiful arch as he felt a slap against his cock, mc laughing as it happened. There were hands all over his body, one hand fondling his balls, another stroking him, someone's hand was playing w/ his nipples... he literally didn't think it was possible to hold it in. His body was on fire and he only came ONCE.

Caleb frantically knocked on the headboard, moans raising in pitch, toes curling, he was right there, and then it was all gone. He let out a sob as the impending orgasm went away, Xavier letting out a soft moan, mc laughing at the tears falling passed the mask.

"Good boy. Look, u have Xavier so affected, and he's not even touched rn." Oh Caleb was going to punish that little smartass so good once he was out of these restraints. Xavier was gonna get it too, but mc was being a beast tonight. He'll show them once he's out... if he ever gets out.

--------------------------------------------------------

I can try to write a whole fic if ur interested, I've js never actually written a full fic, only small drabbles like this. I wouldn't mind trying though bc this concept is js so🤤🤤🤤 ugh tysm anon, ur so cool for this

[sleepanonymous]

Once again, a round of applause for Mr. Lever. You will see an obscure photo of Vessel and II if you click that link, fyi. I actually can't find Vessel, but II and George are def in it, and a friend says Vessel is too. For obvious reasons, I did not include the photo while formatting this post.

Full Production, Mixing & Mastering catered to by George Lever here at G1 .

Prelude

Working with Sleep Token is always a pleasure. I get this deep seated selfish enjoyment when we start new projects, mainly because I’m safe in the knowledge that the experience is going to be beautifully intense and incredibly rewarding.

Tracking

We started working on ‘Two’ just before winter started in 2016. Working on maturing the structure and fleshing out tones. Its no surprise that when it came to the final tracking that we changed the sonic balance almost completely (this is a running theme by the looks of things) Time restrictions led to us using programmed drums, however we took samples of the real kit to sequence so that it didn’t ‘feel’ completely robotic or lost. Guitars last time around resulted on leaning on my Kemper, however this time we used a live amp and cab for the majority, the momentum from the tubes / movement of the cab is something I’ve had to accept is difficult to recreate ITB. Its easier just to go down the most direct route. I had recently purchased a one of a kind Randall modded amp from a friend in the states. It turns out its an early prototype from when Fortin partnered up with Randall, its not a looker but its a box of pure filth. The Fortin was fed into my Mesa OS, placed an SM57 on the cap joint of the cone and off we went, pretty straight forward really! Bass is a hybrid setup between two real basses and then a 3rd lane of audio from a programmed bass. Because of the way the song’s have been written, keeping the sub lows consistent is vital to ensuring the song flows without feeling disjointed section to section / genre to genre. Vocals is where the most change happened (from a tracking perspective). Originally we had finished and finalised everything with my go-to setup. Modded Oktava > Germanium Chandler > Empirical Labs Distressor. And for the most part it worked. However halfway through the process I bought a Slate VMS. A modelling microphone. Without going into too much detail, its a microphone that can imitate more expensive vintage setups and it does it without any issue whatsoever. Obviously when testing it out and comparing, the VMS won without breaking a sweat. So back to tracking all the vocals again. (The vocalist is amazing however, the repeat performances were just as good, if not better than the original final takes) 

Gear Used

Guitars

Ibanez Prestige (7 string) – Bare Knuckle Aftermaths Fortin Modded Randall Diezel Einstein Mesa Oversized Cab Beyerdynamic m201 & 57

Vocals

Slate VMS – AKG C12 Emulation into Neve Pre

Drums

Sampled the original kit, programmed performances.

Bass

Fender Jazz Customshop Dingwall Combustion

Synths / Samples

Logic Stock Omnisphere Spitfire Albion LA Scoring Strings

Mixing

Everything with Sleep Token (from a mix perspective) is orientated around the vocal. The vocal here is god and attempting to get the mix to flow any other way would have been very strange indeed. Sleep Token were very clear and concise about the structure for the mix, Vocals, Samples, Drums then everything else equal after the fact. Very much like how pop is built actually. It turned out to be the most happily balanced mix I’ve worked on. I expected to have a harder time balancing moving between a few different genres through out the track but in all honesty, it just worked. Which in itself is testament to the quality of the song writing. We worked on a few different ‘perspectives’ for the mixes, however in all honesty. The mixes came together with very little effort and the tracking stage defined a lot of the movements that would happen later down the line.

Testimonial

“Worship” Vessel doesn’t give quotes. – ST

Mastering

I ended up going against my usual workflow for the master chain, trying out new things always lends to another perspective / approach / result. The signal chain looked something like this;

FG-Bomber Slate VMR – Neve EQ Focusrite Red 3 Slate VMR – Custom EQ UBK-1 (the density control on this is awesome!) Izotope Limiter FabFilter Limiter

Lastly…

If you haven’t already checked out Sleep Tokens first release ‘One’. You should. ‘One’ was also produced here at G1 but resulted in a darker sound overall! – G

[11queensupreme11]

Now I need the other pantheons reaction to Cu cheating😂😂

I know they would be MAD and start to hunt him down

But how about Adam’s reaction? Would he be mad about his daughter being cheated on?

egyptian pantheon: RA KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. he had -1027232% hope that cú chulainn would remain faithful. he's too slutty, so this doesn't surprise ra one bit. he feels just the teensiest bit bad for percy, and he does smack some sense in his murderous great great grandson to comfort his wife first before going feral on cú chulainn. isis is the one who immediately informs him that she sensed a huge crack in the sécy marriage bond and she also keeps him up to date on how the crack keeps widening further and further on percy's end.....

norse pantheon: waiting with bated breath either for odin or loki to give the green light to go to war with the celtic pantheon or for loki to go fucking ballistic and force them to try and reel him back in. they're devastated for percy, they really are, but on one hand, this would push her further into norse pantheon now that there's one hubby less that's in the way! percy's the one person that can calm loki down, so while they're happy for cú chulainn's stupidity, they still wanna flip the idiot off

greek pantheon: aphrodite was the one who noticed it before anyone else did. she immediately sensed the affair the first time it happened and she's just pleased that his love for percy didn't dwindle in the slightest, he's just a dumbass who can't keep it in his pants. hera's notices later on and she's the one who IMMEDIATELY goes to tell percy of the news, may or may not have tried to claw cú chulainn's eyes out afterwards. anyways, the entire pantheon is the most pissed for obvious reasons. they got people in midgar, helheim, and valhalla, so ALL THREE FUCKING REALMS are out for blood 💀

philistine/abrahamic pantheon: beelzebub is another person who immediately senses the affair. he's the devil after all, all sins lie in his domain! he keeps it a secret because he knows it'll eventually explode and ruin cú chulainn's life, so he doesn't have to do a thing lol! anyway, the rest of the pantheon is mostly just bracing themselves. the devil's been eerily silent about this, but they know their involvement's not necessary. beelzebub's always been good at taking care of things on his own....

celtic pantheon: 50% are terrified of the impending war that this catastrophe could bring and the other 50% are excited about the war. but each and every one of them can all agree that cú chulainn fucking sucks and percy distancing herself from him is exactly the sort of karma he deserves. and things get even better when he starts losing his mind over this, his pride crumbling as he grovels and begs for forgiveness, insisting on his love. he hurt his wife, his own kids resent him, and his father's too busy panicking to stick by his side. it's the best thing they've ever seen. on the bright side: if a war happens, they can finally die happy!

[mitsua]

TIME FOR DESSERT!

synopsis: izuku with an s/o who likes to cook desserts frequently (0.46k)

so we all know about that whole thing that izuku sees himself doing with a partner? the crepes thing? and what would happen if his very own partner knows and likes to cook them frequently?

crepes, cupcakes, pies, brownies, cakes, you name it. You've liked cooking since you remember, little by little you got more interested in the sweet side of cook so from then on, you learned hundreds of recipes!

we cannot forget to mention that everyone who's tasted your pastries has fallen in love with them at the first bite, they always end up asking if you've ever thought of opening a cafe or a bakery yourself.

probably you cooked sweet breakfasts and lunch for yourself when you grew up going to school, prefering your cooking or due to absent parents by those times, whatever reason, all your classmates and friends would come up to you and ask for a taste to the mouth-watering food you brought—highschool being no exception.

izuku would compliment your food every time he eats it, when you first started dating and you offered a bit with the same fork or spoon you used in front of all your friends he'd get all nervous and take the food quickly, his hands rapidly finding their way to cover his burning cheeks, he stutters a small thank you and you'd smile softly because of the cuteness overdose he gives you.

wether you open a bakery or cafe, or not, be sure Izuku would be with you all the way as much as he can while working. he'd ask if you need any ingredients when he's on his way home and goes to grab it to the market.

you'd surprise him on each of your anniversaries with a new recipe or commemorating an old one. some other days, on your early couple days, you'd ask izuku which dessert does he want you to cook and he'd get embarrassed or nervous about anything he could answer you with—so you'd end up choosing for both of you and with him helping you in the kitchen even as you told him multiple times that there's no need since you offered to make yourself.

he wouldn't budge so you let him, and till the date, if he's present when you get cooking, he'd offer a hand in anything you need help with the excuse of "it'd be faster this way" everytime. however, he sneaks some kisses throughout the process and if the recipe asks to put the food in the oven, mind that izuku will have his arms wrapped around your waist until the clock beeps again.

after all, i think izuku is a great partner to have if you like baking or cooking in general—all those muscles crave your food now!

repost from my @mitsuas-priv account 2024. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[pupyuj]

baby daddy gaeul thoughts? :)

omg anon i was just gonna link you this old baby daddy ive drabble i did but i realized there's literally nothing much for gaeul there so now we out here‼️‼️‼️

idek how nasty i can get with this since i stated in my last baby daddy ive drabble that gaeul’s just really fucking sweet 😭💕 like truly!!!! taking care of you day and night throughout your whole pregnancy and when the baby’s here, she just gets even better! 🥺💓 she becomes a hundred times more attractive to you while she does the whole parent stuff… it warms your heart every time you wake up in the morning and you see her by the window holding your kid in her arms and singing them a soft melody.. but really also makes you think that wow.. you reallyyyy scored the jackpot huh 😛😛

ofc the two of you would act appropriately when the kid’s around but once they’re grown enough to be away from home for daycare or something??? oh trusttt that you and gaeul revert back to your young adult selves where you just can’t keep your hands off each other 😵‍💫 gaeul would come back in the house from taking your kid to school and she would see you making a little mid-morning snack and she just can’t help herself seeing you in your nightgown and apron 🤤🤤

don’t be surprised when gaeul inevitably presses up against you from behind while you’re slightly bent over the kitchen island as you ate your snack! 🤭 you could be talking to a friend over the phone too… having to bite back a small whine when she palms your ass and tells you to hang up the call.. and ofc you do that bcs what else were you gonna do?? not get fucked?? come on now 😤

first it would just be little kisses on your neck and shoulders, and then she’d have her hand in between your legs from behind and ykw i believe gaeul can be an ass sometimes! teasing you about being so wet, claiming that you probably didn’t change out of that nightgown in hopes of this exact scenario happening… and it was true! 🤭 but you’re not going to allow yourself to be the only one embarrassed here! making a comment about how gaeul’s jeans are near to bursting open bcs of the hard-on that you knew has been there the second she started driving back home to you.. yeah gaeul wasn’t being as slick as she thought she was 🫠🫠

apparently that was the last straw bcs then you’re laying on the couch taking gaeul’s whole cock inside you effortlessly and it felt a lot better when it wasn’t dead in the night and the two of you were trying to be sneaky 🫢 even gaeul couldn’t keep herself quiet at all, and has she always been so… chatty??

“t-the way you’ve been acting lately is so… f-familiar… mmm.. i’ve been trying to figure it out for d-days and… fuck—i finally know why…! i know what you want, darling…”

“you don’t want to fuck just for the sake of fucking, don’t you…? you want another one…!”

“is that what we’re doing today? hm?? you’re going to take me until we have another baby, huh?”

well when she talked like that… it wasn’t very shocking that you’d come home with amazing news after a visit to a doctor 🫣

[idliketobeatree]

Here is one of the best friends he's made in what seems like forever; she's so open and sweet, beautiful and brilliant. It was inevitable, he thinks, that Niko Sasaki would effortlessly endear herself to Charles like a lost younger sister.

(And that is another story entirely, but not one for Edwin to tell.)

He finds it contradistinctive, Niko Sasaki becoming a new source and the easiest target of Charles' spontaneous, affectionate smiles — different than watching him stumble around Crystal. It's well-nigh surprising just how secure Edwin feels, observing their budding friendship, the phantom echo of it spreading around his chest like a slow warmth from a hearth. He harbours no jealousy or hurt at the frequency with which their more private conversations take place. He does not mind the way Niko wraps her hand around Charles' arm as they walk, not one bit, when his best friend's sole attention is focused on her excited chatter. He can thoroughly relate, after all.

As a matter of fact, Edwin suspects that the only thing he'll have to worry about is stifling an inelegant snort when they're all descending a hill in the middle of a legwork-heavy case and Charles picks Niko up for an impromptu piggyback ride.

"No no no no, put me down!", her voice carries over their heads, but Niko's shrieking protest dies in her throat just as quickly as it came to life, turning into an appreciative whistle at the view. In front of them, Crystal turns on her heel and raises her eyebrows in amusement.

"You're that desperate to be the last at home?"

"Please, we'll be there faster than you lot. Right, Niko?" Charles, ever the multitasker, uses his shrug to adjust the grip on Niko's swaying legs. "Edwin?"

He dares to look in their direction, dreading... precisely double the amount of puppy eyes sent his way. His lips twitch in a helpless smile.

"I must agree. The Charles Express is quite a commendable machine. I would not underestimate it, Crystal."

Charles barks out a laugh. Whatever expression Niko must've had on her face breaks through Crystal's composure; she, too, cracks up, a spring in her step as she turns to walk forward again.

"Can barely feel her, can't I? Lighter than my backpack," Charles says, matter-of-factly.

"It's not a race."

"It could be a race."

"I'm not going to race you down the hill in these platforms, be serious—"

"That doesn't sound like a definite no," Niko pipes in.

"Take them off, then," offers Charles.

Edwin glances up at the orange sun set against the milky autumn sky, to his left; the brightest thing on the horizon. He hears her gasps of delight at Charles' cheeky step through the trunk in their way. Something inside him has been shifting and smoothing out for quite a while. Edwin doesn't know how long it will last or what the destination will be. All he knows is that the slope hits his feet once or twice at most.

One afternoon she invites them to watch Scooby Doo together. It's the first time they've gathered as a trio, and Edwin immediately understands why this hasn't happened before when Niko unlocks the door to her room. The bed they usually end up on is narrow to say the least, why hadn't he noticed that before, but it seems too late to make a flimsy excuse and eloign himself from the picture. They were long overdue.

Charles, who looks about ready to turn into an orb of post-case tension, has no qualms about using the threshold for a shimmering quick wardrobe change. He appears right at home, comfortable, downright domestic, in socks, trousers and a polo shirt, sliding his suspenders down and trailing after Niko who heads for the coat hanger.

What Edwin doesn't expect, apart from the rather tight fit for three people - or rather two ghost boys and one living girl - is Niko giving him a knowing look over Charles' head as he unceremoniously flops down on the bed. His groan, which prompts Niko to pat him sympathetically on said head, makes Edwin snap his open mouth shut, suddenly flustered.

He waits politely, pulling down his knitted vest and admiring the decorative sequins sewn onto a flowery cushion, deliberately not looking at the long line of Charles sprawled on the neatly tucked in duvet. He half-listens to Niko as she chatters on, something about needing to show them the more modern rendition of their Mystery Inc. detectives, grabbing her laptop from the desk and sitting down in the very middle, hip-checking Charles' side. Charles sluggishly lifts himself and rolls onto his back, pushing himself up, shoulders halfway up the headboard, neck supported by a plush pillow, hands folded across his chest and long, long legs crossed at the ankles. He must have done this several times now, Edwin's lungs remind him before tightening into knots. The mattress barely dips when he gingerly sits down and settles, too. His back remains straight, and he is barely brushing her arm when she announces out of the blue, "I forgot my snacks. Give me a moment," climbing off the bed and leaving them in — on Edwin's side — suddenly charged, tense silence.

It feels different, of course it does, and Edwin feels guilty that his carefully tucked away thoughts are knocking on the doors of his consciousness when they're in Niko's room, for God's sake. Edwin tries to subtly move away from the overwhelmingly horizontal line of Charles' body. Right now, sitting cross-legged, Edwin's knees are barely touching him, and he bumps his knee against Charles' arm twice before stilling. He doesn't want to hunch down; never again. He stays put.

The sensation of Charles' bony elbow is like the flash of a sharp smile. The room fills with a low hum, something musical and... campy that Niko must have shown Charles on one of those afternoons. With his eyes closed, Edwin compartmentalises the points of sharp heat.

Much, much later, Charles jogs up to the beach where Niko and Edwin are watching the starfish. "What're you doing?", he asks curiously, just when Edwin finishes talking about their lack of a centralised brain.

He hears the shift in Charles' posture more than his opening to say something mouth, and a second of hesitation before it closes again.

He wonders if Charles has noticed their colours.

Niko sends Charles a lingering smile. Her eyes crinkle with mirth. "Luckily, love requires no logic", she says cryptically. They don't notice, crouching down as they are, but his head tilts synonymously with Niko's and Edwin's.

When he dares to peek at Niko, he finds her eyes locked with Charles', with an expression that Edwin knows she must have learned recently, but is not sure when exactly. It says something like, go on. Be brave.

He swallows and clenches his fingers around the red, red sea glass in his coat pocket.

[hyuniemyunie]

Jason todd x gn reader˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

doing his makeup!<3

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): hes sooooo wifey i love him sm

THIS IS FOR EVERYNYAN. MEN WITH MAKEUP. WOMEN WITH MAKEUP. NONBINARY PPL WITH MAKEUP.

men who do makeup..r..like. so hot. sorry..not sorry..

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Jason Todd was many things—an ex-Robin, a vigilante, a walking, talking trauma case—but a guy who let someone put makeup on him? That was where he drew the line.

At least, he had drawn the line. But you had this look in your eyes, that mischievous little sparkle that made it real hard to say no.

“Come on,” you pleaded, holding up a fluffy makeup brush like it was a weapon of mass persuasion. “Just let me do a little bit.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna look like a clown, am I?”

you gasped, placing a hand over your heart in fake offense. “How dare you. I would never make you look bad.”

He squinted at you. “Uh-huh.”

You scooted closer, eyes shining. “Please?”

Jason sighed, already feeling himself caving. “Fine. But if I look ridiculous, I’m making you watch all my shitty old Westerns shows with me.”

You grinned. “Deal.”

And that was how Jason Todd, Gotham’s brooding menace, ended up sitting on the edge of the bed while you happily went to work on his face.

At first, he felt stupid. you started with some primer and foundation, muttering about “undertones” and “coverage” while he sat there like an idiot. Then came the contouring—something about sharpening his cheekbones, which he thought was unnecessary because his cheekbones were already sharp enough to cut glass.

Then you moved to his eyes.

“This is where the magic happens,” you declared, pulling out an eyeshadow palette.

Jason groaned. “I swear to God, if you give me rainbow clown eyes—”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, dusting warm brown and reddish shades onto his lids.

Jason stayed quiet after that, mostly because the feeling of the brush against his skin was oddly relaxing. You blended, added a bit of shimmer at the inner corners, then pulled out the eyeliner.

“Keep still,” you warned.

Jason tried to keep still, but the moment you got close to his eye with that little black pen, his survival instincts kicked in.

You huffed. “You stare down thugs with guns on a nightly basis, but this is where you flinch?”

“It’s a reflex,” Jason grumbled.

you rolled your eyes and cupped his jaw, gently tilting his face. “Look up.”

He did. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the way you were touching him, all soft and careful like he was something delicate.

Once you finished the eyeliner, you moved to mascara. Jason blinked too hard the first time, getting some on his eyelid. You scolded him, wiped it off, and tried again.

Then came the final touch—the lips.

Jason narrowed his eyes as you picked up a tube of lipstick. “No bright red,” he warned.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Trust me.”

You picked a deep, natural shade and carefully applied it, your thumb tilting his chin to keep him still. When you pulled back, you studied him, eyes wide with satisfaction.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered.

Jason frowned. “What?”

“You look really good.”

Jason snorted. “You’re supposed to say that. You did the makeup.”

“No, but like—really good.” You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera so he could see.

Jason expected to look ridiculous.

Instead…

Oh.

The guy in the reflection wasn’t some overgrown crime alley stray. His skin looked flawless, his cheekbones more defined, his blue eyes sharp. The eyeliner made them pop, the mascara darkened his lashes just enough, and the lip color—damn.

He turned his head slightly, raising a brow. He looked—

“…I look hot,” Jason muttered, genuinely surprised.

You burst out laughing. “I told you!”

Jason kept staring at himself, tilting his head like he was studying a piece of art. “…I look like I could scam rich men out of their fortunes.”

You snorted. “You totally could.”

Jason leaned closer to the mirror. “This is bullshit. Why does this work?”

You smirked, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Because, babe, I’m the one who did it.”

Jason gave you a sideways glance. “…So you’re saying if I let you do this every time, I could be the prettiest crime-fighting menace in Gotham?”

You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Jason hummed. “Huh.”

He turned back to the mirror, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“…So how do I take selfies?”

Jason stared at his reflection, turning his face slightly to the side, then back. His sharp jawline looked even sharper under the contour, the dark eyeliner made his blue eyes pop like something out of a painting, and the lip color—deep, natural, and just glossy enough—gave him a dangerous kind of charm.

You watched him with barely contained laughter, chin resting on his shoulder. Oh, he was eating this up.

“So,” you drawled, watching his expression shift between admiration and disbelief. “What do you think?”

Jason exhaled through his nose, tilting his head again like he was analyzing a priceless artifact.

“…I look like I scam rich men for a living,” he muttered.

You grinned. “And you’d be good at it.”

Jason let out a soft, amused scoff, still not looking away from the mirror. You could see the way his brain was working—turning over the fact that he, Jason Todd, could be pretty in a way he hadn’t really considered before.

His fingers brushed over his jaw. “This is bullshit.”

You snorted. “What’s bullshit? That I made you look hot?”

“That it works,” he grumbled, squinting at himself like the makeup had personally betrayed him. “I mean, I expected to look like some try-hard clown, not—” He gestured vaguely at his face. “—whatever this is.”

“A masterpiece?” you supplied helpfully.

Jason shot you a look, but there was no real bite to it. He was too busy admiring his reflection.

You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera, holding it up. “Wanna take some selfies?”

Jason hesitated. His instinct was probably to say no, but you could see the little flicker of consideration in his eyes.

“…If you send them to Dick, I’ll throw your phone off a building.”

“Duh,” you said, like that should’ve been obvious. “These are for us. For documentation. For history. For—”

Jason rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.

“…Fine.”

You gasped dramatically. “Did the Jason Todd just agree to take selfies?”

“Shut up and take the damn picture.”

You beamed and held the phone up, making sure the lighting was just right before snapping a couple of shots. Jason barely even tried to pose, but he didn’t need to—his natural sharpness, the way he glanced sideways at the camera with that slight, lazy smirk, made him look effortlessly cool.

After a few shots, you checked the photos, grinning. “Okay, but you actually look so good.”

Jason leaned over, eyes scanning the images. His expression softened for just a second before he covered it up with faux nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just saying that ‘cause you did the makeup.”

“No,” you said seriously, nudging his arm. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous, Jay.”

Jason blinked, caught off guard. He cleared his throat, looking away like you hadn’t just turned him into putty with one sentence. “…You’re so full of shit.”

You just grinned.

“Alright,” Jason sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “Time to wash this off before I start getting ideas.”

You gasped. “What kind of ideas?”

Jason smirked, standing up and flexing dramatically. “I dunno. Maybe I should start conning rich old ladies.”

“Oh my god.”

“I could be Gotham’s prettiest crime lord. Make Bruce’s life a living hell.”

You laughed, standing up with him. “I knew this would go to your head.”

Jason slung an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your fault, babe.”

And yeah—maybe it was your fault. But looking at Jason now, with his newfound appreciation for just how good he could look, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

Jason wasn’t one to fuss over things like makeup. Sure, it had turned out better than expected—hell, he’d even admit (to you, and only you) that he looked good—but after a few selfies and some teasing, he was ready to wash it off and go back to his usual, rugged, Gotham-worn self.

At least, that was the plan.

You, however, had different ideas.

Jason stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rolling up his sleeves as he turned the sink on. His reflection stared back at him—still sharp-jawed, still intense-eyed, but softened just a bit by the expertly blended makeup you’d applied. He reached for a towel when, suddenly—

SMOOCH.

A pair of lips landed on his cheek, warm and deliberate.

Jason froze. “What are you—”

SMOOCH. Another one, this time dangerously close to his jaw.

“Babe—”

SMOOCH. SMOOCH. SMOOCH.

He turned just in time for you to attack with another kiss, smacking your lips dramatically against his face. Jason stumbled back against the sink, hands bracing himself as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to keep him in place.

“Alright, alright!” he laughed, hands coming up to ward you off. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

You grinned up at him, smug as hell. “Just appreciating my work before it all goes to waste.”

Jason gave you a suspicious look, but when he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand—his eyes widened.

A bright red lipstick stain smeared across his knuckles.

He turned back to the mirror.

Oh, shit.

There were marks everywhere. Little red imprints covered his cheeks, his jawline, his nose, and—he rubbed his lips together, realizing you’d definitely gotten him there too. His mouth was slightly smudged, like he’d either been thoroughly kissed or had just finished robbing a bank with Harley Quinn.

Jason looked back at you, you looked way too pleased with yourself.

“Are you serious?” Jason groaned, rubbing at his face. The lipstick refused to budge.

“Very.” You crossed your arms, proud of your masterpiece. “I think it suits you.”

Jason ran a hand down his face. “I look like I got mauled by a very aggressive valentine.”

“You look loved,” you corrected sweetly, batting your lashes.

Jason exhaled through his nose, staring at you like he was this close to enacting revenge. Then, with zero warning, he grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter.

“Jay—”

You barely had time to react before he pressed his face all over yours—cheeks, nose, forehead, even down to your neck—rubbing against you like a damn cat.

You squealed, trying to push him off. “Jason, no—!”

“What?” he murmured, voice smug and low against your ear. “You don’t wanna match?”

You huffed, knowing damn well he was transferring all those lipstick marks onto your face. When he finally pulled back, he took a second to admire his work.

You glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

Jason smirked, running his thumb over your now-stained cheek. “You love me.”

You tried to look annoyed, but the way he was looking at you—smug, sure, but with that soft glint in his blue eyes—made it impossible to stay mad.

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jason chuckled, leaning down to press a much gentler, slower kiss to your lips. This time, neither of you cared about the mess.

[tech-luver]

Part 1 here

Ranking (some more of) the LL crew based on who would let you take a nap on them and how comfy that nap would be (Part 2):

Perceptor: 7/10 Good shoulders to sleep on and works in (and prefers) quiet environments like his lab and the main navigation area of the ship. Prepare for loud interruptions if Brainstorm feels like continuing his one-sided competition with the bot. Although, if Perceptor doesn't feel like entertaining him, he may use you as an excuse to shoo him away. Tolerates your presence and checks on you every now and then but nothing more. Would ramble to you about maths and science if you ask, which is great white noise for falling asleep, unless you're actually interested.

Chromedome: 6/10 Hm, ok, a little skinny but you could try his big ass shoulders? It would leave you pretty exposed… maybe we just go with the cradled like a baby option here. Allows it but you better not be giving Rewind any ideas, his arms are going to get so tired otherwise. Will speak in a hushed way but won't stop other people from speaking regularly, only if they get too loud. May tap or stroke along your spine absentmindedly. He found that keeping his servos active helps when he feels that pull to perform mneumosurgery, that repetitive motion is now just something he does whenever.

Rewind: 7/10 Actually not too bad, you have a chance with his shoulders unlike the other minibots but he would probably prefer holding you so there isn't a possibility of you sliding off. Moves around the ship a lot but prefers quieter spaces. Would ask if he can record you sleeping for "the preservation of historic cultural exchange between cybertronians and humans!" It is a genuine reason of his, but he doesn't mention the fact it's also cuz he thinks you're very cute dozing on him. It's a funny/sweet thought that there may be a recording of you sleeping on a minibot that exists thousands if not millions of years after you are gone.

Nautica: 4/10 I know she's sleek but I think it's doable to rest on her shoulders, might want to keep away from those propeller wings of hers but they don't seem to move much. Not excited about it, she cares about your well-being but it would feel like she's just babysitting you which isn't fun. Also, she wants to be up and at 'em with her science gang! But if the gang is chilling then, hey, she'll allow it, why not? Once they're off again she'll gently hand you over to another willing bot with a quick, whispered "Sorry!"

Velocity: 9/10 Again, sleek but doable, especially cuz she approaches your health with such a lovely intensity. If she can help the only human on-board feel a little more welcome whilst also benefitting their health, that's a double win in her book. Tell her if you need any sleep aids, she'd love to learn about how humans sleep and how to specifically aid you! Probably feels the most guilty out of all the medics about their lack of understanding on organic medicine so you asking to nap kinda helps her with that. Will try to be quiet but she is a doctor and won't ignore other patients.

Ravage: 0/10 lol no, he has disappeared before you can even ask. First of all, there's nowhere to sleep, laying on his back isn't an option cuz he won't sacrifice his movement for some human and you can't be held by him (no, not even in his jaw, getting dragged around like a sack of potatoes is not relaxing). Second of all, there's some prejudice against organics he needs to work on and even after all that, he isn't a cuddly kitty. So go on, keep pestering him, if you're persistent enough you might earn some cool new scars!

First Aid: 7/10 He'll let it happen, not too fussed. Definitely watches you as you sleep but it's for research, he swears! Very interested in how the human sleep cycle is different and/or similar to cybertronian recharge so don't be surprised if you wake up and the glow of his giant visor is the first thing you see. He is another medic, which means another fairly loud environment of bots being put back together. First Aid is quiet by himself but any noise caused by patients or fellow doctors he's going to assume you're fine with, why would you sleep on a medic if you weren't?

Riptide: 5/10 I spent a little too long staring at this guys shoulder plating and its still a maybe on if you could stay in one place. His back fin things would be great to sit against! However, if you can only nap laying down then there would be some difficulty. He would let you up without an issue, just helping a little guy have a little recharge, but he would 100% forget you are up there. Prepare to go flying. Or maybe just tie yourself to one of his plates. Other people would have to point out that you're on his shoulder when he gets that feeling of "Wait, I'm meant to be doing something for the human…"

Skids: 8/10 Chill about it, happy to be a napping perch even if he is quite an active bot. Really curious on how humans recharge but also mindful of the fact you just want some rest so you might catch him staring and hurriedly looking away a few times. If you nap on him enough, he knows exactly when you fall asleep and when you wake up, it would be kind of freaky if he wasn't so accommodating and quick to put a blanket over you or hand you some water. Tried to crawl in the vents with you napping once, went well for a while until you almost slipped off and cracked your head open, he never tells you this happened.

Ambulon: 4/10 He really hems and haws over this when you ask, he's uncomfortable with the idea but he knows Autobots are meant to love organics or whatever, especially humans. Eventually allows it but he picks you up with the tips of his fingers (trying to ignore the weird sensation) and angles his head as far away from you as is socially acceptable. Keeps an eye on you but its less out of concern for your well-being and more so he can see if you start picking at his paint or chewing his neck cables. He treats you like a feral creature but eventually loosens up when you don't do anything but…lay there sleeping.

Ok, I see why I picked the bots I did for the first part cuz after them, people start to have very complicated shoulders. (Also, I only finished reading mtmte like two months ago but I feel I'm already writing these guys out of character wth)