#just some idiot they're dragging around with them for the sake of it

[hideyourautumn-milkteeth]

Hm. Feeling very incapable of being loved rn. Not even just romantically, just like, in general. I'm awkward, I'm lame, I'm annoying, I'm not very interesting or good at anything I do, and I don't even connect with people that well. The few times I do really wanna get close with someone it feels like some sort of circumstance makes it impossible. I hate it here.

[lord-squiggletits]

unpopular opinions meme: anything on Earthspark?

(Haven't watched Season 1 part two yet so take this with a grain of salt)

I avoid looking at fandom tags generally since I tend to not like a lot of popular takes in general, but people's takes about Optimus being brainwashed/shadowplayed/replaced by a clone in Earthspark really annoy me because it demonstrates a couple troublesome things about self-professed Optimus fans (or anyone really interested in OP in general):

People can't handle the fact that Optimus might make mistakes

Because of this, they then rush to remove agency from him (to make the bad things that happen not his fault)

In doing this, they completely erase, downplay, or even lambast as flaws the very traits that make Optimus who he is.

To take this from the top, Optimus "freedom is the right of all sentient beings" is, and has always been, a person who cares deeply about the rights of other species. This is a trait he's had in EVERY continuity: he values all lives, even small and fleeting ones, as equal to Cybertronian life, and he strives to protect uninvolved aliens from the horrific consequences of the Autobot-Decepticon war. This is one of his primary traits. This is a GOOD TRAIT OF HIS and it's LITERALLY ONE OF THE FUNDAMENTAL PARTS OF HIS PERSONALITY.

In Earthspark, we specifically hear Optimus say "we are guests on this planet" with regards to living peacefully alongside humans. GHOST is a suspicious organization and not only do we see this as the viewers, OPTIMUS HIMSELF acknowledges this by choosing to hide the Terrans from GHOST and openly saying that he doesn't know if GHOST is trustworthy, but it's currently the best option they have and he's trying to find another way.

Earthspark Optimus has no shortage of nuance. He's not a dunce; he acknowledges on multiple occasions that he doesn't completely trust GHOST, that he's willing to hide things from them, and that he would do something else to live peacefully with humans if he knew of a way to do so.

But the fandom seems to get one whiff of anything "problematic" happening due to Optimus (not just Optimus, literally every Autobot and even Megatron collaborates with them too, but for some reason blame for working with GHOST only ever falls on Optimus) and they immediately jump to this bizarre headcanon they have that Optimus is a total idiot and couldn't possibly be aware of any negative consequences of working with GHOST. People seem to think that if anything bad happens because of Optimus working with GHOST, it HAS to be because he was literally brainwashed into working with them.

Optimus believing in the rights of all sentient beings? Optimus being willing to make compromises for the sake of other species besides his own? Optimus knowing that he's making morally gray choices/questionable allies and doing it anyways because he thinks it's his best option? Nope. Nope, clearly he has to be brainwashed or a clone or something.

It's really frustrating because people jump to this black-and-white view of Earthspark's plot where they're like, "GHOST is evil and this clearly means that Optimus is an idiot for even attempting to work with them." But like. What else is he supposed to do? Just let the Decepticons run around stealing from humans, damaging their property, and killing them? Is Optimus supposed to grab a random piece of human land and go "this is mine now, me and all my people are gonna live here now." That would be literal colonialism, and keep in mind that humans had nothing to do with the war to start with-- Earth is just the unfortunate planet that the war happened to land on, dragging humans into a Cybertronian conflict.

It's just.... so fucking frustrating as an Optimus fan lmao. It's gotten to the point that I don't even look at Optimus content made by other Optimus fans because too many of them have this idea that Optimus can't be a normal person who makes bad choices (knowingly or unknowingly), he has to be an eternal paragon of goodness and this means that in order for him to be Good (TM), he can't be responsible for anything Bad And Evil, which means that if anything Bad happens (inevitable in any plot involving conflict, drama, or conspiracy), we have to swoop and take away Optimus' culpability for the situation. Because having Optimus be responsible for bad things happening would make him Not The Perfect Good Guy, and if Optimus isn't The Perfect Good Guy then we don't care about him and we hate/ignore him (which is exactly what people do with IDW OP btw: throwing out a perfectly good/interesting character who's no more bad or good than anyone else in the story because Optimus Has To Be Good).

Another example of people taking away Optimus' agency is the all-too-common TFP/Aligned headcanon in which people like to say that the Matrix literally turned Orion into a different person, Optimus, therefore none of the decisions OP made as Prime were "actually him" and it was just Primus imposing his will on him or something. Really annoying! Ideas like this don't make Optimus any more interesting, they just make him a helpless victim to forces outside of his control who manipulate his every action!

TLDR: Earthspark Optimus is fine actually, people just refuse to take his perspective and instead default to "Optimus is stupid/brainwashed for working with GHOST" instead of coming to the rational conclusion that maybe OP is doing the best he can in a bad situation.

[sleepyheadd0]

pat pat pat!! they are so silly!!! picasso!!!!!!!!

...more stuff about picasso please?? im not really sure what to ask exactly,, but i genuinely want to learn more they're so silly!!!!!! /gen!!

oh my god im so sorry about this taking so long

the tmnt au comp gave me motivation to post about picasso lmfao

SO. picasso backstory.

the very beginning starts after the episode "Sparring Partner", S1 E18B, where we are introduced to Franken-Foot; the reformed paper ninja in raphael's care. after meeting the reformed paper ninja, mikey has an idea. at this point, hes still very babied and coddled; although now he is feeling bolder, with both "Hot Soup: the Game" and "Nothing but Truffle" already having occurred.

seeing raphael being able to reform one if their "enemies", mikey decided to replicate it, for the sake of showing raphael up and proving he can be responsible. so, after yet another battle with the foot clan, mikey slipped away to pluck an injured paper ninja out of the heap of paper after the dust settled.

the paper ninja was in bad shape, to say the least; especially after mikey had to drag it back into his room with his brothers none the wiser. after all, paper isnt exactly the strongest material on its own. but mikey knew exactly what to do, he knew how to make paper stronger. he was the artist, after all! he worked with paper a lot, unlike raphael. and his plan? paper mache.

he slowly but surely fixed the paper ninja up, it took a few days with all of the drying, hiding the living behind from his brothers, all that jazz. but if course, he didnt want to make just another paper ninja, thats boring. he needed to add his own razzmatazz to it! so, using his skills, he created his own turtle pal; complete with a painted cardboard shell.

now, this paper mache turtle wasnt exactly the strongest thing. with all of that weight, it needed something to keep it together! so mikey wrapped ribbons around its limbs, adding an extra layer of protection.

but of course, someone was going to find this out eventually. one day, while mikey was out spray painting the sewers, leo snuck into his room to grab one of his comics he let mikey borrow. only to find a strange colored turtle reading it.

mikey made leo swear to keep it a secret, but after just a week or so, leo spilled the beans to april, who brought it up with donnie assuming he knew. and finally after a month or so, raphael finally learned of the paper mache turtle when it was just walking around. mikey got in deep trouble that day.

once the family finally all knew of the paper mache turtle, it began to join them in their family time at home. its vocabulary expanded, and became almost like a toddler. donnie had some theories, but none were fully solid.

eventually, the paper mache turtle began to notice it was different from the others. no flesh or skin or scales, it was all paper mache. it felt alienated from its family. although, this didnt stop the paper mache turtle from trying to cheer itself up. so when mikey went into his room one day, he saw the paper mache turtle superglueing paper loops on the back of its head to replicate the brothers bandannas / masks.

OKAY THATS ALL I HAVE ABOUT PICASSOS BACKSTORY

but more on other things, picasso uses any/all pronouns, because as paper, they couldnt care less what you refer to them as. mikey is essentially picassos older brother/father figure, taking his toddler creation out into the sewers to teach it things.

while picasso doesnt know much about the world, he isnt a complete idiot. he may be comedically bad at using things when hes first introduced to them, but he eventually learns, like a toddler.

picassos "weapon" of choice is a fork. it was originally a dumb idea my irl friend cane up with, i actually like this idea.

so. mikey spends a lot of time in the kitchen, and picasso follows him because hes her caretaker. she watches him cooking a lot, and she also helps by passing mikey some ingredients or tools for him to use. when she saw that mikey also used a fork a lot to eat, test the readiness if potatoes, whisk together eggs, etc., she decided shed use a fork for everything, just like her caretaker and best friend mikey.

this au is also completely platonic, and picasso is aroace.

thanks for letting me ramble! im thinking of calling this au "paper mache ninja turtle ", or pmnt!

[thelikesoffinn]

Hi friend! I have an question because of your DID post. I read a lot of stuff about DID end I watches something on Youtube to learn more about DID and now I'm agreeing that Astorian really don't have DID. But now after learning I'm thinking that maybe Durge could? What do you say?

Both spoilers and talks of DID symptoms ahead!

Oooooh, hiya babes!

I love that you went and looked up some stuff after reading my post so that you could come to your own conclusion. That's exactly what I want to achieve! I want to encourage people to learn more about the things I mention instead of taking them at face value, so I'm happy to hear that it works for some of you!

Also: Bad anon! Very bad! *posh people "nonono" finger shake* Please do not drag Durge into the DID community. They already have many a homicidal bastard in their rep ranks, and they do not need one more.

(Tone: Humorous but also really, please don't! For those who haven't yet: You can read a rough why here!)

But, as always, let's treat this as the discussion you meant it to be and chat about it!

With Durge - as opposed to that wildy idiotic Astarion tiktok theory we've talked about before - I can actually kind of see why you reached this conclusion.

Now, that doesn't mean I agree with the take that Durge has DID, but alas, I do see where you're coming from.

Durge actually does show some symptoms that we do commonly associate with DID as opposed to Astarion, who doesn't really show any.

There's the ever-present mood swings we see - some of them left to the players' choice - which are a common symptom many DID systems deal with. (As do patients with all sorts of other disorders, but let's stay on topic for the sake of brevity.)

One example of that would be barking at Isobel like a rabid dog and then immediately changing your tune and apologising straight after.

Disordered sleep is another symptom that is rather common in DID and also something we find in Durge. I don't think there's much to be said, we can see how restless their sleep is every long rest and, later on, Astarion even mentions that he hasn't seen them "sleep through the night once in the past days".

Lastly, and probably the most "glaring" symptoms we could potentially find are fainting spells and, mostly connected to those, fugue.

The fugue is most obvious after Durge first slaughters Alfira, seeing as they wake up bloodied and next to a corpse and don't even remember how it got there or what happened to it.

The fainting spells are shown a little later in Act 2, after we fail to kill Isobel and Sceleritas, the little chum!, tasks Durge to kill whoever they love the most. Durge barely manages to wake their beloved and inform them of what is happening before fainting and turning into that rabid beast we see throughout the night.

Oh, and one thing that is definitely there, but I'd still like to kind of push aside is Durge's headaches. I know they mention it A LOT - "I have such a headache." 'nough said. - and that it is a common somatic symptom in DID, but we have to keep in mind that Orin pretty much scrambled Durges' brain AND that they have a tadpole worming around in there.

Both of those are likely to cause headaches, so I'm hesitant to count them.

So now, with all of these symptoms that can serve as potential indicators, would I say that Durge has DID?

No.

I do think that you could easily headcannon that into your own character design if you were so inclined, since there's some bases that are covered.

I won't stand in anyone's way in that regard! It is your game and your creativity, but I don't believe that Durge has DID for multiple reasons.

Firstly, the symptoms are just too lax. They're really spread out, they shift like the tide, they're often untriggered, and they really only revolve around murder and mayhem. Nothing else.

While we have what we could generally mistake for a shift of conscience, it's less an actual shift and more Durge being overcome by their murderous urges. That is a really, really big difference.

Durge has these Urges all the time - often displayed as some sort of intrusive thought. It's just that in the few moments we see, they win.

It's like rice or kitty litter. You walk past those giant bags at the shops on a day to day basis and something in you just WANTS to slap that bag. Just a good smack. You can see yourself do it and that little voice is there every time you see those bags.

You resist most days, but on a random Tuesday, you give in and slap that bag.

With Durge, it's similar. Only instead of slapping a bag of rice, they kick a squirrel against a tree. That's not a shift in conscience. That's simply an Urge winning.

Plainly stated: There's no evil Alter that comes to and randomly goes off to kill innocent Bards and Clerics. It is still all Durge, and, for the most part, Durge can remember what they did.

I say, for the most part, because the Alfira incident seems to be the exception to that. We have no other incident where Durge can't remember what they did. It is only with Alfira, as far as I'm aware. (I suspect this is done for suspense rather than because Durge is plural.)

So there's apparently no amnesic walls between the mad dog and normal Durge and amnesic walls are pretty much why DID even exists since without those, there can be no Alter.

As I said in my other post, DID is the result of intense early childhood trauma. Amnesic walls are the protective measure the brain takes to keep the child alive.

It serves to separate the child from their trauma by basically shoving that trauma into one specific part of the brain and locking it away, which then creates an Alter since the child has yet to develop a set personality.

So the missing of those amnesic walls is pretty much the biggest indicator that there is no DID here.

Then there's the fact that Durge is immediately cured of everything once they are disowned by Bhaal, and that is, unsurprisingly, not how DID works. The creation of Alters becomes a third addition to the natural fight or flight. From then on out, it's fight, flight, or dissociate, which is why people with DID can develop further Alters later in life.

And lastly, my absolute favourite hill: Narratively, it just doesn't make any sense whatsoever. DID is a very specific disorder that holds a lot of storytelling potential, tragic as it is. In fact, the tragedy behind that disorder is where the potential often comes from - that and its rarity - since tragedy has always inspired creative minds all throughout history.

No one would go through the trouble of implementing that and then just discard it and never mention it.

So, to sum it up, I would say what Durge suffers from is called "Bhaal" and not DID! But once again, I do see how one could come to that conclusion, so there's no shame there.

(Also, I do hope everyone can now see why I said Astarion really doesn't show any signs of DID. Really none. If Durge doesn't have it, he doesn't either. Stop that tiktok nonsense, please.)

Anyway, babes! You have a lovely day now, and feel free to hit me up whenever you want to chat! Even if you have a different opinion or take on this, I'd be happy to hear all about it!

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC in 15 or less Tag

Thank you for the Tag, @cowboybrunch (here)! <3

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I'm doing half of this for my OC Cory Blythe, from Mutant Inquiries, and the other half for Augustus Grimmure, from Enchanted Illusions for this tag!

Cory Blythe

"Listen, douchebag, I'm far too sober to deal with whatever this bullshit is right now and I'm already running late for my fucking job - by the way, I'm far more scared of my boss than I am of you. So how about you go mug someone else and I don't stab you with these heels?"

"And you seriously thought involving 'Miss Trust Fund' over here in our mess was a good idea? No! You just signed our early death certificate." [...] "Why? Oh my god, I don't know, Becky... maybe because her infamously overprotective dad is the CEO of a fucking multimillionaire enterprise and you just dragged his only daughter to the middle of a conspiracy?! I don't care if she wants to help! That's Violet Villarosa, for fuck's sake. We're dead now, we're so dead - I'll have a closed casket for sure."

"The more I live, the more I realize I might be the sanest person in this group of idiots. And that scares me."

"Are any of you going to explain why there's a random dude bleeding out in my brand-new car? No? Okay then."

"Becky," [they take a deep breath] "My best friend, my surrogate sister, the caffeinated cutie-pie of my life, I say this in the most polite way possible - I'd rather be waterboarded with lava than hear that plan ever again."

"Teague, let's make one thing very fucking clear - I'm following my side of the contract, so you can do whatever you want to me in the meantime. But my friends - my family - they're off limits, and if I ever find out you sent any one of your thugs after Rebecca or any of them again, it'll be the last goddamn thing you do. I don't care if you're the head of the mob, or if I'll be food for the fishes afterward - you're not the only one here with a pocketknife, fucker."

"I call dibs on the fluffy socks and the cereal!"

"Look, just because I'm not a mutant like you guys doesn't mean I can't seriously fuck somebody up with a shotgun. Now, one of you might want to take the wheel of this car 'cause I'm about to do just that."

Augustus Grimmure

Augustus felt rejuvenated - like he’d just woken up from a nice nap, adjusting his bloodstained dapper suit and glaring at the now soulless corpse. “Oh -" He looked down, noticing the crimson splatters on his coat "That’s just nonsense! Look at this, it's all ruined and covered in blood! It was my new suit! How dare he stab me.”

"My, my, it's a great deal of a fall from up here. I'm not so sure about this anymore, Hattie-" He looked over the speeding train's railing, turning to Harriet with a shaky, nervous chuckle. As he did, he noticed the outline of the two goons clambering into the wagon behind them, guns ready. "Oh, well, as some say - ladies first!" Before she could say anything, Augustus pushed her over the railing - summoning a portal beneath her. Two bullets flew past the spot where she'd just been standing, instead lodging themselves in the young necromancer, who jumped into the portal just before it closed.

"Well, you could attack us, boys, and I'll merely consume all your souls - string by string, painstakingly severing the cord between your life and afterlife until you're all empty husks. You know who I am, and what I can do to mercenaries who threaten people I hold dear." His eyes glowed in the dark, the mark on his wrist causing the mercenaries to stumble back in shock, as shadows swirled around him. "Now, are you sure this is a wise decision to make in the name of your boss, a man who was too lazy to even come get his own hands dirty?"

"I can't tell you more about it, love." He shook his head with a dejected smile, clutching his own arms in a vice grip. "About my deal, about the Deathbringer and what I did. I can't. It's, no - they're just too dangerous, and I made a mistake. I fear it... it won't end well."

"For some reason, I don't think your cousin likes me very much, Harriet." Augustus spoke under his breath after Vincent stormed out, a playful but somewhat serious lilt to his words, concerned. [She replies "It's not about you, per se. Vincent doesn't really like anyone"] The necromancer chuckled. "No, this seems so very personal."

"My grandma used to bring me to this place, when I was a kid." He mused, fiddling with the blue flower between his fingers, before placing it inside the book. "For a lonely commoner kid with a strange magic that everyone was afraid of, these dusty books were paradise. A world where maybe I really could be anyone."

"May I have this dance, darling? We may as well enjoy this uppity evening on our own terms, before anyone makes it otherwise."

Tagging - @oh-no-another-idea, @dreaminggoblin, @mitchell-nihil, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams,@yet-another-heathen @talesofsorrowandofruin, @thetruearchmagos, @writernopal, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @clairelsonao3, @little-peril-stories, @memento-morri-writes and @saltysupercomputer

[naavispider]

QUARITCH BITCHING ABOUT JANINE??? I’m a huge sucker for drama PLEASE we need to know what the sais about her 🤭🤭🤭

(Quaritch snuck off to the bathroom after leaving Spider on his face link to Janine, dragging Lyle with him because they are teenage girls at heart)

"Who the hell is this woman?" Quaritch muttered angrily. They were in one of the ship's bathrooms, and he'd just left Spider alone to his face link with Janine. He may be pressed about it, but he wasn't going to invade Spider's privacy.

Wainfleet made a noise of agreement from where he was leaning against the hand dryer. "She's getting too involved, that's her problem. It's nothing to do with her."

Quaritch nodded vigorously. "Spider is fine. He doesn't need some random lady sticking her nose in."

"She's too attached," Lyle agreed.

"Do you think I made the wrong call?" Quaritch asked suddenly. Perhaps allowing them to talk wasn't a good idea. "What if it makes Spider worse?"

Lyle grunted. "I don't think you need to worry about that, boss. The kid's already pretty screwed up."

It was true. For the past few days, Spider had retreated into himself more and more, barely responding when talked to, not eating, and preferring to spend his time just staring out at the ocean. He hadn't interacted with anyone or anything unless forced to. It was starting to concern the whole squad.

"Hmm," Quaritch said noncommittally.

Wainfleet eyed him carefully. He knew what the colonel was thinking. "She's at Bridgehead... You are here. He knows he can talk to you."

Quaritch didn't look convinced. "Does he? The kid hates me."

Lyle frowned his disbelief. "That's not true. He hates what you're doing, sure. But it sounds like you're the first person he's ever had that's gonna put him first. He's not an idiot, he knows that."

Quaritch sighed, placing his hands on either side of the sink and staring at his recombinant reflection. "He better. The last thing I need is some Na'vi-sympathiser medic whispering lies in his ear." He turned to look at Lyle. "You know he's never even asked about Paz?"

Lyle took this in, trying not to react evenly. "He's been through a lot recently..." he responded rationally.

"For Christ's sake Lyle, that's his mother! Don't you think he'd want to know something about her? That he'd be even the slightest bit curious?"

"Maybe the human traitors told him about her?" Lyle suggested.

"No," Quaritch turned back to the mirror, adamant. "He's projecting, that's what he's doing. He wants a female influence and he's getting it from her."

A moment passed before Lyle responded next. "Do you think that would be a bad thing?" he asked carefully.

Quaritch closed his eyes, groaning. "I don't know, man."

"Look," Wainfleet began, hoping to offer some solace to his best friend. "This Janine has taken a liking to Spider, and he's clearly done the same back. They're friends, and we ain't gonna change that. So what if the kid wants a female influence? It doesn't change how he feels about you. You're still his old man whether he likes it or not."

"Yeah," Quaritch said, to reassure Lyle he was listening. He ducked his head lower, pressing his chin to his chest over the sink.

"You got this, boss. He's gonna be grateful you let him call her. So go out and ask how it went. He'll come around."

Quaritch stood to his full height, and turned to Lyle - his best friend for years. He nodded.

"Thanks, Corporal."

[elvisabutler]

dove career anon back again! do you have any sfw hcs for dove and austin? like the first time they met each other's families or visited each other's hometowns? any pets they may have (for some reason dove strikes me as a cat person)? just general light goofiness between them

no idea what we're talking about? see the little dove series masterlist for slightly more info, note it's not safe for minors at all. and note i'll eventually get out the next chapters.

you mean how austin charms the hell out of her mother despite knowing that "ah yes this is the idiot who broke my baby girl". and how dove tells austin's dad he's got a villain mustache and it's somehow still cute? dove career anon, i definitely have these.

consider. consider that any actual proper visits happen post cannes smashed in between elvis press tour dates or in the tiny sliver of time austin had pre dune and bikeriders filming. dove has to make her own tweaks to her schedule but it's not as massive as mr. go go go. after all, she gets her oscar nom but she's against some heavy hitters, when warner bros and baz and austin and everyone talk about the award press junket she kind of just says whatever happens happens.

for arguments sake she ties with stephanie hsu because i do whatever the hell i want in this. and i want austin to say that stupid line i envisioned him saying drunk.

the funny thing is though, austin's been in new york city before and she's been anaheim before but never being shown around by someone who calls or called those places home.

consider! he shows her his old elementary, she does the same. he drags her to all the places his mom would take him and she walks him to the theater stages she grew up with. her stomping ground of wanting to be in theater and acting since she was small. his stomping ground of wanting to be an actor once sports failed and he realized that it's weirdly the shy ones who do great work on film.

her trip to disneyland is one where they both keep getting stopped and the pictures except for the pap ones stay confined to small twitter circles and maybe tumblr. no annoying articles about him taking his baby of a girlfriend to disney.

she doesn't know who is more thankful about it, him or her.

when she meets his dad she can't help but blurt out about his facial hair and austin in that moment makes sure he grows it out for bikeriders because of it. just to see her reaction to his own.

his dad laughs and reminds austin that he's got to keep you because she fits right in. dove rides the high of that praise for weeks after. same thing goes for when she meets his sister and gets called her favorite one.

"of course she's your favorite, you don't have another." "shut up daddy, let her speak." "she's the only one i've called my sister, austin."

if it happens before the press tour is over that was supposed to be a hint. if it happens after, she's just being honest and truthful because dove is the only girlfriend he's ever married.

as for when austin meets dove's mom? and to a lesser extent her managers/agents who act like her dad? austin is scared shitless.

it's understandable though because all three of them read that boy for filth and threaten bodily harm if she ever come home or come to them as sad as she was after australia. he swears on his life she won't ever be like that and after that, well he gets dragged to The Diner she enjoys going to with her mom and her managers. and it's a sweet lunch/dinner.

also they have the elvis cat. who was the first pet they ever get even though austin wanted a dog first.

the two dogs come post getting their own house together and during austin's and dove's month break after the oscars to just breathe.

well one of them does. it's a little golden retriever that if they're not around to take care of she goes to stay with austin's dad. her name is jolene.

the second dog only happens post their first baby and that one is a female husky named jenna.

[demonic-hypocrite]

Replaced!MC x Rejected!Mammon

That's it

That's the post

Nvm, lemme explain-

Since Mammon was the brother that treated MC kindly the most they naturally fall for him, but once new human arrives you know the song and dance of becoming cold and all, but instead of collecting all the brothers like infinity stones, the new human goes straight for one or multiple brothers excluding Mammon.

The new human rejects Mammon for him having the "Scummy second born" tag stuck to him so after being rejected Mammon takes it out on MC and they let it happen because of their unrequited love for Mammon.

This happens a few times, whetever it is insults or lovebombing MC, Mammon always comes to MC to relieve his pent up emotions, MC is not so innocent either, they purposefully rile up Mammon doing things like mentioning the new human's relationship with his brothers or pointing it out whenever new human is having some PDA with another brother.

After a while however, it becomes less twisted for Mammon and more twisted for MC, Mammon realizes that MC has always been there for him since they came to the devildom, even managing to change his brothers' perspective of him so they wouldn't hurt him anymore, but because of him alienating and then hurting them their affection had become a twisted obsession.

Mammon blames himself for this, rightfully so and expresses his guilt to MC, who takes this an an opportunity to claim Mammon for themselves, but they weren't on their right mind and are both mentally unstable and paranoid, Mammon felt unsettled by the obsessive look on their face but fully accpets their every demand, innocent things like waering matching clothes to overly marking Mammon's neck area with bites and hickeys.

However this does not help MC's paranoia over loosing Mammon, adding up the fact that the other brothes had actually turned on them finally dawning in and their low self esteem MC finally processes the situation and has a breakdown.

Even so, after all of the things that happened between them Mammon is still there for them and help them through it, MC can only explain how they felt scared and anxious about loosing who they saw as the only positive light in their life after coming to the devildom, Mammon shared his feeling with them too, asking to be forgiven for dragging them to such a low point by his ignorance, saying that even before the new human came their feelings had been mutual.

After this their relationship becomes a real actual relationship and not a one sided demand, they love and care for eachother and make sure to share their feelings whenever their feel insecure, angry or sad. The others around them can tell too that this time they're actually happy with eachother, and slowly reconcile their broken familial relationship, the new human finally has a chance to apologize MC since it wasn't their intention to turn the brothers away from them and so had realized MC and Mammon's feelings for eachother and purposefully excluded Mammon as possible romantic interest.

All this time the new human had been trying hard to make the brothers reduce their new found hostility MC, who new human already had seen as a essential part of the Morningstar family, and talked some sense into the demons' heads too, who apologized for hurting MC emotionally and physically before.

In the end both humans that form part of the Morningstar family become good friends and apologize for the trouble they didn't mean to cause to eachother in the first place and actually become good friends.

Also during the part that MC and Mammon where in their limbo like relationship of "he's/they're doing this because he/they hate/s me, he/they definitely hate/s me" the other brothers were definitely like "when will those idiots realize they have the same insecurities and fears, for fucks sake, just say you love eachother already".

°•°••°°••▪︎••°•°••°°•••°°°°•

Another one bites the dust

It's been a while since I've written an Obey me thing uh, fic? ficlet? drabble? But for the longest time I've been on some Mammon brain rot and the replaced au hasn't left my head since I discovered it so if I write more it's gotta be about it until I discover another AU that gives me the brain scratches.

Good night listeners, Goodnight

[gateskp]

A little snippet from my current revision. The Wraith is a so-called supervillain with power over shadows, they're supposedly Dazzler's arch-nemesis (she's part of an organisation of superheroes and has light-based powers), and Ty & Ben are twin brothers and their roommates/best friends/practically family.

In the living room, Dazzler moans quietly.  “Where am I?  I can’t—I can’t see!”  Panic rises in her voice, and for a second, it looks like she’s going to push herself up off the couch.

“Stop moving so much.”  I grab her by the elbows and grip them until she stops moving.  She’s still breathing too fast, and her heart is beating so hard it looks like it’s about to break through her ribcage.  She’s still panicking.

“Why can’t I see?  What happened to my eyes?”

“It’s a blindfold, you idiot.  Are you going to stay still, or do I have to keep holding onto you?”

She’s going to keep struggling and panicking.  For fuck’s sake.

I peel the very edge of the shadow covering her eyes away, so she can see her peripheral vision is still intact, and she’s not in a dumpster or an evil basement laboratory.  “There, are you happy now?”

“No!  Where am I?”

“In my living room.”

“What’re you going to do to me?”

This is getting us nowhere.  I let go of Dazzler’s elbows, shoving her arm backward until she can see the damage she did to herself, fresh blood oozing through the crusty scab that was just starting to form around the edges of the lacerations.

“Fix you and your stupidity.  Sit still or else.”

A smidge of tension leaves Dazzler’s body as she leans back on a pillow.  She’s calmer, but still shaking, still recoiling every time my skin brushes against hers.

Ben is the first to come into the living room, glaring daggers at Dazzler’s twitching body.

I don’t look up from the crumpled pack of sutures laying on my knee, answering his unspoken accusation.  “I know.  It’s a risk.  But a dead member of the Sublime on our street corner would’ve raised too many questions.  There would’ve been an investigation and they would’ve found out about me and us living here.”

“I prefer being not-dead too,” Dazzler mumbles.

“That’s not what I was going to say.”  Ben’s voice is still mostly monotone, but it has a little more life in it than before.  “I was going to suggest you get something to eat, I can patch her up.”

“No, it’s fine.  Go upstairs and get some rest.  You and Ty need it.”

Ben rests his hands on top of mine, sinking to the floor in front of me, and I finally look at him.  He looks like shit: bloodshot eyes with dark rings beneath them, wan face, slightly shaky fingers.  This is not the man who thrives on breeding rare and exotic plants, who finds joy in all aspects of nature, who has a heart of pure gold and refuses to see anything but the best in everyone.

“You look like hell, Ben.”

“You should look in a mirror.”

I cup his cheek with one hand and rest my forehead against his.  “I’m fine.  I’m more concerned with you and Ty.  Go sleep, please.  Please.”

Ben blinks slowly, eyes staying closed for a heartbeat before he sighs and nods.  “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

He stands, dragging his feet upstairs.

“You’re in love with him,” Dazzler mutters.

“If I were, I absolutely wouldn’t tell the person who calls me her archnemesis.”

“It’s okay to love someone.”

“Not in my line of work.”  Ben is more than capable of dealing with anything this lifestyle throws at him, he’s proven that time after time.  He has more raw power than Ty does.

“Does he know how you feel?”

I pause mid-suture.  “It’s not that simple.”

Dazzler tilts her head slightly, waiting for me to continue.

“There’s more than one way to love someone,” I finally say.

I concentrate on finishing Dazzler’s sutures, slightly relieved that the damage isn’t as bad as it originally looked.  There was a lot of blood, yes, but the lacerations aren’t that deep, and the burns I expected based on how I react to her light weapons are almost non-existent.  Her shadow did a lot of repair work, it’s probably exhausted right now.

[nonhumen]

@giftandguile : [ FIVE CONFESSIONS ] souheki :)

it all starts on a very boring valentine's day morning. dazai is laying his head on his desk, watching kunikida type away a report that dazai should also be doing. but he's not thinking of work, he's thinking of a way to swipe his partner's credit card and purchase some last minute gifts for a few women he'll ask to commit double suicide with.

that is, until ranpo calls his name. dazai raises his head, broken out of his thoughts just in time for the detective to shove a heart-shaped lollipop in his mouth. it's a rather forward gesture of affection, ultimately claiming dazai as his valentine with one single motion. the entire agency, dazai included, stare dumbfoundedly at ranpo. he's about as idiotic as the rest of them when it comes to acts of romance, especially public ones.

the stick of the lollipop bobs up and down between dazai's lips as he tastes the artificial cherry flavor. he should say something as revenge to get back at ranpo for the clearly possessive action over the man who had, just moments ago, been plotting multiple double suicides on the holiday. a sickly sweet i love you should suffice. something to have the last word and save face in front of their coworkers. but the words are heavy on his tongue, trapped behind the sweet as all dazai can do is watch ranpo stroll away.

all eyes fall to dazai but he's forgotten all about them at this point. he pulls out the lollipop, turning it around in his fingers with a pout. he'll get him back tonight, he's sure of it.

three simple words: i love you. that shouldn't be hard. dazai has strung together much more poetic and elaborate confessions to a few waitresses before. this will be easy. he reaches the dorms, cheeks puffing in anticipation as he stands in front of ranpo's door. just go in and say it. dazai opens the door. " ranpo-san, i-- " the smell of crab fills his nostrils and he stops. head tilts, staring at the older in the kitchen making instant noodles and opening up that canned crab dazai loves so much. jade eyes glance at him with a knowing grin.

he's playing with him, clear as day. dazai huffs, arms crossed. well, at least he knows anyway, right? " they're going to talk now, you know, " dazai finally responds, speaking about the public display of affection during the busiest time at the agency. but ranpo already knows, he always knows. what's three words against the deduction of the world's greatest detective?

except... something is bothering him. maybe it's the way naomi grins at him much wider the next day, or the way atsushi keeps glancing at him so much that dazai finally decides to do his paperwork to focus on something, or the way everyone descends upon him the moment ranpo leaves for a case. how long have you two been dating? did you kiss yet? have you... you know... (kunikida immediately stops any further questioning about the couple's sex life). but there is one question that weighs on dazai's mind even after everyone dispersed: who confessed? " well, you can't really hide these things from ranpo-san, " dazai laughs, trying to brush off some sort of gnawing feeling in his heart.

technically, it had been ranpo, on a night when dazai's monsters had decided to try and drag him down again. you aren't alone. three words to reach out and pull dazai from the darkness. something so easy in three simple words.

ranpo's case is out of the prefecture, which means dazai is home alone, eating crab straight from the can and drink a rather generous amount of sake. it's not like it matters. ranpo knows dazai loves him. but the doubt has set in, thinking about to the day before and how he had been planning on a lover's suicide for valentine's day with a stranger while ranpo sat there and watched. while his boyfriend sat there and watched. that's what they are now, right? boyfriends?

dazai curls up in his futon. all of this is so messy. feelings are messy and he hates them. mori had the right idea to try and stamp them out of dazai when he was a teen. eyes squeeze shut. this is hard.

the alcohol makes his mind hazy but he thinks he hears his door opening. he immediately figures out that it's ranpo's footsteps that cross dazai's living space and collapses next to him. he feels smaller arms snake around his middle and a forehead nuzzle between his shoulders. a lazy smile finds its way to dazai's face as he hums, instantly feeling himself relax in the detective's grip. he knows the case wasn't hard but ranpo had tired himself out by sight seeing most of the day. dazai can feel him already slip into slumber nestled up against him.

there's no way ranpo doesn't know. not when he knows all of dazai's other emotions, knows how to pick through them like the lies he spins and find what the suicidal maniac needs the most. even now, curled up against him, ranpo is giving dazai exactly what he needs. that's when dazai decides it's not a matter of if he knows but that he deserves to know.

he loves him. he loves how he thinks -- not just his intellect but his empathy. he's kind. he reaches out. he's patient. oh how he's patient. dazai is a piece of work, he knows he is, and yet ranpo hasn't given in, hasn't let him go despite all of dazai's best efforts. he remembers the first time ranpo fished him out of the river, crouching beside dazai with an umbrella to shield them both from the rain even though he was already soaked to the bone. he loves the way he kisses him. he loves the way he touches his body, knowing when to be rough and when to be gentle. he loves his eyes, the way he regards dazai as if he is something worthy to be looked at.

yes, ranpo deserves to hear those words. because they are honest with each other. because this is a truth that has taken up the whole of dazai's heart. lips part to attempt to mouth the words but they fall on his tongue again. it's like there's a spell over him, stopping him from saying what he wants to say. no, it's a matter of circumstance. dazai simply needs to say it at the right time. a special time, something romantic so they can remember it later with fondness.

that's when dazai decides: he will confess his love to ranpo on white day.

except what the hell is he supposed to do for white day? he's never taken such frivolous holidays seriously. he buys expensive chocolate or a disgustingly elaborate flower arrangement on kunikida's dime. but he can't do that this time, not with ranpo. not when this time it's meant to be real.

in the twenty-eight days leading up to the holiday, dazai agonizes over what he should do. he's even less productive than normal. he has forgone his desk to lay face down on the couch and whining loudly whenever someone tries to get him to do anything. what's even worse is that ranpo is in the office every day. dazai can feel those eyes on him, observing him in his misery before leaving to snatch some sweets and head back to his desk. it's torture that ranpo sees him like this, knows exactly what's going through his head, and still never speaks of it. dazai knows he's simply waiting for him to say it in his own time, but that infinite patience only makes the monster's claws dig deeper into dazai's brain.

this shouldn't be hard. people do it all the time. and the two of them are extraordinary people. they've started to become known as twin jade: the two brightest. dazai doesn't seem very bright right now.

all of dazai's extravagant ideas get scrapped. sweets are too obvious. flowers are too cheesy. expensive items don't suit ranpo. all of the best dating places are already booked for white day by couples who actually know what they're doing. and so come the morning of march 14th and dazai is empty handed.

he wakes up on his couch, alone, neck hurting from the uncomfortable angle he slept in. empty sake bottles and a headache tell him of the previous night. he's not an alcoholic like a certain chibi he knows but he must have had enough to make sure he was bad company, especially to the one person he doesn't want to see. dazai drags his hands down his face with a groan, knowing he failed in his task.

failure is unacceptable. you are not allowed to fail. you must be perfect. if you are not perfect no one will want you--

dazai turns on the couch and shoves his face into the cushion, hoping to suffocate right then and there. all he feels is his headache worsen which in turn puts the detective in an even worse mood. fine, he'll get the first thing he sees and give it to ranpo and that will be that.

and that is how dazai finds himself stand in front of ranpo, who is perched on his desk like he always is, and shoving a bag of chocolate he bought from 7-eleven right into his hands. lips are pressed together in a thin line as dazai stares at the chocolates like they're about to come alive and eat him.

just say it. just say it you idiot! but not even a sound makes its way passed dazai's lips. this isn't how it was meant to go at all. now he can't even look at ranpo or anyone else despite knowing that every pair of eyes is fixated on him. then dazai turns and leaves. he hears atsushi trying to call him back but he really couldn't care less. flinging himself off of yokohama bay bridge is sound really appealing right now.

the golden colors of sunset great dazai when he finally opens his eyes. he hears the gentle waves against the pier and the sound of someone unwrapping candy. wait-- dazai turns his head to see ranpo sitting next to him, eating those unbearable cheap chocolates dazai had bought him as he waited for the younger to finally come to. he stares, confused as he always is, at the effort ranpo puts into him.

" are you done yet? " he asks dazai. he should say yes, just call it quits and suffer in his title as most useless boyfriend. but he wants to say it. he wants to tell ranpo that he loves him. mouth open but ranpo reaches out and presses his index finger to dazai's lips. " i know. "

" i know you know, " dazai protests. " but i want to be able to say it. "

" i know. " he can see the small, knowing smirk on ranpo's face.

dazai sits up, lips down turned into a pout. " stop that, " he huffs and flicks the water still clinging to his fingers from his dip in the ocean. ranpo chuckles and dazai's heart soars. he'd been so wrapped up in his mission (because that is what it became) that he had simply forgotten the ease that comes with being alone with ranpo edogawa. for the first time in a month, dazai finally manages to relax his shoulders.

he leans forward, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder with a loud sigh. " you're so mean, ranpo-san, " dazai whines, " letting me make a fool of myself like that. just because i wanted to tell you how much i love you. "

a second, two seconds, three seconds go by. dazai abruptly raises his head, eyes wide as he's met with a wide smile that makes those green hues shine so wonderfully. and then ranpo reaches out and flicks his forehead. " dazai, you are an idiot. "

and dazai laughs, something light and warm, something he never could have done if not for the agency and the man who holds all of his affections. he leans in close, then, the smile still on his face as his lips brush against ranpo's. " i know. "

[bitegore]

cut for length (LONG) and content (pretty explicit actually); oc/canon crossover fic where the Stunticons land in my Closerverse (original universe) a la Headin' Down the Wrong Highway except it's entirely from Rex's pov and he's a bitchy little grouch who cant fucking stand the Stunticons but who is also one of very few people who his Ath can trust to use every method at his disposal to Handle dangerous outsiders who otherwise kind of can't be managed who nonetheless are hanging around with the clan. 3/4ths of it is Rex going "i cant stand these people, i dont trust them and i dont like them and it's weird and bad that they're here and i wish they would die but i'll play nice because Velan told me to. fuck this shit" except then it turns out Dead End is a morbid little corpsefucker just like Rex so (to Rex) it's worth putting up with his personality to get some

Rex rolled over onto his back, panting. The gashes along his throat and thighs still stung like a motherfucker, but now at least they were a little distant, fainter. He was pretty sure he could see the rainbow sheen of smears of his blood drying iridescent across Dead End's glass detailing, but he wasn't sure; Dead End had been damn shiny before they got started and he certainly wasn't any less now.

"Seconds, that was good," Rex managed, and passed out.

-

Dead End was a member of a group of these really odd shaidbloods, a set of five construct type guys who all had some sort of a bone to pick with soft edges or something. They had a real coherent design language, and they all had a real similar set of skills, so it was clear enough that their whole mess of metal and glass and leather without any normal silicon or synthskin was some kind of statement piece, or something. Dead End sure looked like it. He was top to bottom gorgeous, like a piece of art someone'd sculpted and then accidentally given life to.

The rest of his teammates were not so gorgeous. But they weren't trying to be. One of them was even [yellow], for Third's sakes. ANd they all had this attitude to them like they were the biggest and baddest things they'd ever met and everyone around them better fall in line. Every one of them, that was, except Dead End.

Listen. Rex hadn't been a big fan of them showing up to camp. The big one, Motormaster or whatever his name was, had Rex's teeth sharpening and claws twitching every time he made eye contact with Rex. Something about the big construct made Rex real damn uneasy. ANd that was even before the whole… everything about his personality. he judst had something to him that made Rex want to try his luck ripping his spine out the middle of his torso. But [Velan] said they were staying. So he'd reluctantly bitten his tongue and kept his misgivings mostly to himself. That hadn't stopped the yellow one- Drag End? Dead Strip? Some stupid name like that- from picking a fight over. Fourths, what even was it? Speed? Something like that. As though a shaid-powered machine could ever beat a dragon on a short-sprint race through a thirds-damned forest. He'd been even more of a cunt about it after he'd lost, too, tried to start a physical fight and everything and Rex had to let Motormaster come in and "handle" it after he'd put his claws through the only weak points he'd found on Drag Strip and poked out his stupid fucking eyes.

Or. No. Wait. Stupid fucking optics. They got annoyed if you called them "fleshy words". They really did have a thing about that. Rex thought it was asinine, but whatever. They were playing nice, he was playing nice, they hadn't actually hurt anyone who hadn't been giving back as good as they got, Rex would pretend to care about their stupid idiot hangups.

Regardless. Rex hadn't been fond of Dead End at first, either. He was sullen and insular and kind of unpleasant and he made every effort possible to rebuff pleasantries extended toward him from anyone but his own teammates. He acted as though he was better than everyone else around him and he was just sort of a prick, really. That was fine by Rex, as far as he was concerned, for the most of their stay here. He could keep to himself and be a prick over there and Rex could comfortably ignore him and do his own thing over here and they would just never speak and that would be just fine.

And then fucking [Velan] told him that they needed an in on Motormaster's crew as soon as possible and could he [please] try and make sure they had these five on a leash [before] they started running their mouths about how cool financial crime was? Please?

And Breakdown had like an anxiety disorder or some crap and kept getting really aggressive when Rex made eye contact with him even though he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Wildrider had more screws loose in his head than Rex did in his project bin. Motormaster had all the pleasantness and charm of sticking your dick in a blender with even less of the fun somehow. And Drag End was almost fine, except for how he apparently couldn't tolerate a loss even when he set himself up to fail and everyone agreed he'd had a suprisingly good showing and had actually been a pretty damn fast weird little metal ground vehicle after all and so now he had it out for Rex personally. The Ninth really were looking down on him for this one. Rex had even known it was going to be a bitch; he was going ones against fives. No wonder it was such a sevenths-damned headache.

Whatever. He'd divide and conquer; it worked when it worked. It was hard with the "Stunticons" but they'd already established they could barely fucking stand each other anyway. Half the reason Motormaster was even traveling with the clan toward the ports in Lozanjela was for the sake of not killing each other, since apparently they'd been stuck together alone for a while and were at each other's throats constantly. So he'd be able to split someone off the main group eventually, get some sort of a grip on them. He'd been thinking blackmail, at first.

At first.

So he'd started in on Dead End, trying to get all buddy-buddy. Turned out kinda quick that his whole miserable shtick was less a thing he put on when hassled by annoying dragons who didn't know how to leave a loner alone and more just his default setting on life. That guy was just fucking miserable. And he didn't seem to know how to stop being goddamn insufferable about it, but that didn't mean he was trying quite as hard as Rex figured to be a dickwad on purpose. He was just miserable and cynical and kind of nihilistic and he didn't seem to see the point in making friends with people who could die, as though he could stave the end off by just making his own life as dull and uninteresting as possible.

Whatever. Rex could bounce cynicism off cynicism and jam with morbid crap. It wasn't terribly hard, when he was working at it, to be the listening ear for Dead End's curmudgeon crap. The more time they spent with Rex playing the little maroon construct, the more he realized that Dead End sas actually kind of not the worst, actually.

They still weren't friends. But just like Wildrider (who Rex had to admit was a good time and would've been good fun if he weren't here at Rex's [camp] instead of kicking it off in Ciranos or something) Dead End sort of just seemed to have some sort of real serious issues trying to figure out how to socialize without being a bit of a douche.

Honestly, the more Rex heard about them from the inside of their little team, the more he got the sense there was something really wrong with them. Even beyond the average shaidblood nonsense, they soert of reminded him of himself.

(A weird thought, to be sure, and one he didn't linger on. But he could see the directions.)

Anyway, Rex sure did get Dead End on the hooks, just like Velan had asked him to. Rex got Dead End to see the point she'd been trying to get him to make to Motormaster, which was that running your mouth about other people's crimes wherever you are is how you get those other people in legal trouble, and Dead End did Rex the enormous favor of letting Rex know well ahead of time that Motormaster kinda didn't give half a flying fuck about anyone else around him outside his team and would sell out whoever to whoever for one single cube of "anner john," whatever that meant. Rex had passed that on to Velan, and Velan had cursed and thrown her iron teacup at a tree and then asked Rex to please for the love of the fucking Second keep the damn Stunticons in the camp when they made it to the EBC, because apparently they were being [audited] and some shaid running his damn mouth was the last thing they needed.

Sure. Whatever.

Rex had no idea how to fucking manage that one short of sleeping with Motormaster, which he wasn't going to do because it was probably going to end with Motormaster dead, and besides, the construct was really only into other machines anyway. Rex was pretty sure he caught Motormaster checking out his radio's left-side audio jack setup more than once. Still, it wasn't like they had anything that "Stunticons" particularly wanted. Rex was good, sure, but this wasn't in his skillset and he wasn't a miracle worker. He was a fucking courier, for the sake of the second. Velan was really putting a lot on him.

He'd been pissed. He was still a little pissed. He'd kept being pissed right up until he'd gone to Dead End, anger loosing his tongue a little more than it probably should've, and he'd bitched a blue streak up about Velan's goddamn practices and Velan's fucking expectations and the slack Velan cut for everyone else but never for [fucking] Rex, which wasn't even fair or true, and how if he was gonna be expected to put up with this shit he might as well just go ahead and sit on a gun and pull the trigger, since that would be less of a pain in the ass. It was really just a dramatic complaint, but it was apparently like unstopping a dam, because

well

Dead End had a fucking [kink].

And. Look. All the "Stunticons" were individually pretty decent-looking, but Dead End was without a question the best of the best. And he was the only one who put any work in to look nice. The others were always streaked with mud and dust and shit, and it showed real bad on them even worse than it did on anyone with that polished silver chrome synthskin that had been popular when Rex was last out east. And it was- it was just- Look. Look. Rex could admire a good-looking construct just as much as anyone else. And their whole mechanical deal was. Just. It was kind of hot. He'd already made a couple passes at Wildrider, but Wildrider wasn't anything like Dead End and he might'e been a fun tussle but that wasn't keeping anyone anywhere. But Dead End--

No point obfuscating it, really. Rex wanted to fuck him.

From there it was, really, just a cascade of successful mistakes and side-steps. And it went something like this:

Dead End swallowed, which was a funny thing for a construct to be able to nervously do, but they ran on some sort of combustion engines instead of the batteries Rex was more used to so it made some sort of sense. His weird little optic band thing flickered left and right. "Um. Sorry. That's. Um."

"I'm immortal," Rex blurted.

Dead End stopped dead. "What?"

"Uh. Or not immortal," Rex said. "The other one."

"Invulnerable?" Dead End asked.

"No," Rex said. "If I get killed I come back. I can die. I'm real good at it. Um."

"That [is] being immortal," Dead End said, visor starting to narrow.

"Isn't the point of it that you just don't die? I die, I just don't stay dead. I'm pretty sure that's different. Um. And more. Uh."

"Um," Dead End said.

"Interesting," Rex finished. "For you."

"For me," Dead End repeated. He swallowed again. "Um."

Rex took a breath. Oh, fuck it, now or never. "You want to, uh, shoot me with a gun and fuck me about it?"

Dead End stopped moving again, looking thoughtful; and then his vents started going and smoke started leaking from under his chestpiece in a weird place and Rex started to get worried before he finally croaked, sounding sort of like someone had punched him in the nuts, "yeah."

-

They'd gotten together in a weird little clearing a ways out from the camp, because Rex was smart enough to know that Velan would have his hide if he got really well and truly fucked anywhere anyone could hear, or see, or more importantly get worried and start calling for help. Dead End clearly thought it was ridiculous, but he'd cooled his jets a little when Rex pointed out that if they found him with Rex's apparent corpse everyone would be mad at him and he would have to deal with their attitudes about it. Practical arguments hardly ever worked on him, but even just a suggestion of some onerous annoying bullshit would have him hauling ass; it was funny that Motormaster had apparently not learned that when Rex could see it plain as day.

So they got together all the way out in the middle of nowhere in some weird little clearing Rex had dug out for the purposes of getting himself really fully obliterated for a few hours. Dead End clearly didn't really know what to make of the whole thing, and he didn't seem real sure of himself at all, actually, constantly looking at his little radio when he thought Rex wasn't looking and sending worried messages off to who Rex could only assume had to be Breakdown. Rex, for his part, wasn't any less comfortable than he'd ever been; but then again, this was only ever going to end one way for him.

Dead End stopped in the center of the clearing like an out-of-place statue, standing still and awkward. His hard edges shone in the dimming midafternoon light. "Um. So. Uh. You said you were immortal."

"Yeah," Rex said, and then made a split-second calculation. They all had so much pride. Fuck it. "Look, I'm not gonna get cold feet, but if you are, you can back out."

"I'm not getting cold feet," Dead End said, which was what Rex wanted, and even better, he shook himself off, too, finally loosening up. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

"It's been a while, but this isn't my first time having someone put a hole in me and fuck it," Rex said. "I got some location preferences, sure, but not a ton. What kinda way do you want me to die?"

Dead End locked back up again. For the love of… "Dead End, man-"

"Mech," Dead End said.

"Mech, you have got to fucking chill out. If you're gonna start steaming every time I say anything about the fact that I want you to kill me and fuck my dying corpse I'm not gonna be able to get off on this. Okay?"

THat was just crass enough that instead of sending Dead End into another fit of-- whatever it was, embarrassment or something, he instead just sort of wilted. "Uh… sorry."

"It's fine," Rex said, which wasn't strictly true but it was obvious Dead End was trying. "You've just never done this before. THat's obvious. It's--"

"Yeah I have," Dead End said.

Huh.

"Just, um," said Dead End, "not with, um… anyone who, um."

Ohhhh, right. Of course. Rex kind of forgot for a minute that he was pretty sure the "Stunticons" were an awful lot like he'd used to be, in all the worst ways. "What, just random people? That's not the same."

"I suppose if you judge me too harshly, I'll just have to kill you again," Dead End said dryly, and visibly rallied. Great. That was what Rex was hoping to hear, basically.

"That's the spirit," Rex said, getting comfortable in a nice coil on the cleared forest floor. Dead End's eyes followed the curve of his throat. Optics. Dead End's optics followed the curve of his throat exactly how Rex was hoping it would. "Slow, you said?"

"Something long enough I can watch you, uh…"

"Bleed out?" Rex offered.

"Fade, I think, is how I'd put it," Dead End said. Which didn't mean anything, but whatever. "If bleeding out doesn't do it for you--"

"No, no, I like bleeding out," Rex said. "I usually go for something a little faster, but I don't know, it works for me. Long as I can still breathe."

"Wouldn't that be fast, if you couldn't?" Dead End said. "I thought you dragons had massive oxygen requirements, or something like that."

"You'd be surprised how many people don't realize that cutting out my heart means my lungs stop working," Rex said, which was true. "Don't worry, I won't lead you wrong. Do you want to get hands-on with it, or--"

"I'd rather not," Dead End said.

"Wait, really?"

"Not in the, uh, dragon sense, anyway," Dead End said. "I'm not looking forward to cleaning your blood out of my joints."

"Alright, sure," Rex said, splaying his legs sideways. "But then how are you gonna fuck me?"

"I," Dead End said. "Um. I."

"Don't worry about it, man," Rex said.

"Mech," Dead End cut in again.

"I'm messing with you. You want me to talk you through the whole thing, or just let you know what I think'll work best and let you play it as you want it?"

"Um," Dead End said again. "I, uh."

"Sit down," Rex said, and Dead End dropped like a stone. "Okay, look at me."

Dead End looked.

Rex took one talon and traced it against the curve of his inner thigh, muscle and vein jumping underneath his claw. "Here's a good place to make a cut. There's an artery underneath that's close enough to the skin. You want to slice through pretty deep, deep enough to sever that. By the bone, basically. Try not to tear my whole leg off though."

"Uh, okay," Dead End said.

"I don't know what kinda, uh, genitalia or whatever you got going on under there. Since you're a construct and all."

"Uh," Dead End said, and ran an aeration cycle. "So, uh, you have, like, uh, a, uh-- I have- uh- we should be. Compatible."

Compatible, huh. "What, you can't just tell me?"

Dead End froze up again, which was just unfair.

"Are you [shy?"] Rex asked, which was already obviously true but it was just fucking annoying. "Do you have a dick? Do you have a pussy? Do you have some other hole I can stick my hemipenes in or some other fucking protrusion you can stick in me? What's compatible even [mean] in this context? Do you just wanna grind me off by hand and call it good, that's fine too, but I'm not signing up for any surprises--"

"I have a cable!" Dead End finally managed.

Hm. That sounded alright, actually. "That'll burn me, right?"

"I, um," Dead End said. "I don't know. I've never really-- I've tried plugging it into pieces of meat before and that was--"

Pieces of [meat?]

"--Do you want me to just-- I can. Take it out so you can [see] but--"

"Wildrider has a whole metal and glass penis on him," Rex pointed out.

"I don't," Dead End said. "I just have a cable. Wildrider's spike is an aftermarket mod and I don't think I've ever bothered looking for one of my own. [I'm] not fragging rich ptrons who'll shell out to buy me fancy interface equipment."

Rex shrugged. "I mean, I can get you hooked up, probably, if you want. Whatever, that's not really important. You've got a cable, do I want to see it. Uh… Yeah, give me your cable."

Dead End winced, and then swallowed and made a funny little weird cog-clicking sound, and his hip-jointing did some weird little thing and then a hidden panel Rex hadn't even noticed slid away and let a massive braided cord slide out.

It was easily the size of Rex's forearm, all smooth rubber with a gleaming metal head. Okay. Not a bad look, honestly, Rex could get behind it. "If you shock me to death that's fine, but you still have to fuck my corpse," Rex said.

"I don't think I'll shock you to death," Dead End started, and then broke off into a startled squawk as Rex put the entire cable in his mouth.

Yeah. That wasn't bad. That would be really nice, actually. A little buzzy, not nearly as high-powered as the toys Ayleh used to play with back in the day. Tasted like ozone, too. He spat the cord back into his forepaw and flared his wings in a shrug. "Yeah. Think we're good."

"Primus," Dead End said, staring at Rex with wide eyes. It took Rex a second to realize that his fans were going at full speed.

"If I'm going too fast for you," Rex started, "you can tell me to--"

"Don't you dare slow down on me," Dead End said. "I just haven't done this before but you cannot fragging hold out on me on this."

"Dead End, buddy, you are the only one holding out anywhere," Rex pointed out, and then finally Dead End got a fucking move on and got to his knees in the dirt next to Rex. Rex shut his eyes, making sure to give Dead End easy reach to get at the arteries in his thighs,

and then Dead End kept not doing anything. "You need a refresher, or…?"

"No," Dead End said. "Just thinking. Um. Can I frag you first, or--"

"Why are you some sort of blushing virgin all of a sudden?" Rex

[zorilleerrant]

When they learn about his power, people line up. There are all kinds willing to lay down their lives for the sake of thousands, tens of thousands, millions. People who have a martyr complex, people trying to be brave, people too logical to stop themselves from stepping forward. It works. He's not sure it works quite as well as it might have otherwise, but he's not willing to test it. There's no shortage of people eager to play the sacrifice for this chess game of ethics made manifest.

There's no shortage of people willing to kill for him, either. He tried it, only once. He has to pull the trigger himself. (Metaphorically. Not literally, not anymore.) Even the ones who can take powers, borrow them, copy them - but then there are so many who would take joy in the blood on their hands, so maybe it's better that it's him.

He has to make sure it's not the people who think there's nothing else useful to do with their lives. He has to make sure. Sometimes there's no other innocent to hand, and pileups come on so suddenly. They're the worst. Not because of the body count (it's easier, sometimes, with higher body counts, like it's more worthwhile somehow) but because it's in the name. The gore skidded across the road in pristine tire tracks.

It doesn't matter how he kills them. He used to think it would, early on, because of what they named him. Too many disinterested people in lab coats giving him terse, clinical answers, a pamphlet, a hotline, a spot on the waiting list. He used to think it mattered the method as much as the meaning, and it never did. The scientists urged him to experiment. He hates experimenting.

There are people with diseases that will outlast their sanity, people looking forward to a slow end full of pain and not much else. They use him for euthanasia, now. The people. They clamor for his attention and demand a quick death that means something, at least. He doesn't have to know who he's saving, or why, or how. It's just a lever. it's just a lever he can decide to pull, or not.

Some days he dreads the improvements in medicine he sees. One day all diseases will be cured, and then who will he save?

He's not sure what innocent means. He's not sure he's innocent himself, but his life is always one of those being saved, no matter what he thinks, where he aims. He can decide who to help, to some degree. He can feel the death in the air even when he doesn't. There's some leeway, there, some sliver of time where he can bring people back to life.

That's not special. Any idiot with an AED can do that.

He knows the power has rules, of some sort, that judge who he can kill and who he can save. He doesn't tell people about this. Why bother? Once they're dead at his hands, they're dead, whether they wanted to prove themselves innocent or not. There's no sense dragging a media circus in after them. Of the ones who live, the ones he's supposed to save -

There's limits, he says. People believe him. Everyone believes superheroes, the ones with the iconic costumes and the logos famed around the world. The ones with names they can remember and catchphrases they can't. Everyone's superpowers have limits, or maybe they don't, and it's all just sickening conditions they don't want to have to think about the next time they open their eyes in the dark. Too many rules, not enough information.

(The needs of the many, he uses, when they want one from him. He likes it, anyway. Mostly people like to give their own last words.)

It was inevitable, once the curse was handed down to him, but he followed the omen of his name as far as he could, experiment on down. He understands less now than he did. Thinks about it more. Worries in ways he shouldn't and not in ways he's worried he should. People keeping coming, keep throwing themselves at his feet. He's killed people by accident when they come at him too fast and loud and expectant. It still works. It always works.

He can feel the life force travel through him. He knows that's not really what it is, if nothing else, because the math doesn't work out. People aim math at him. Physics. Biology. Chemistry. Anthropology. History. Literature. Psychology. Religion. Philosophy.

He's written six books on ethics. He signs them with his nom de guerre. They sell. He doesn't know if anyone reads them.

There are always more classes, and that's his only saving grace. He doesn't teach, but he learns and he synthesizes and he creates, and it's like the same energy except he can't feel it in his hands, in the tension of his arms, in the air like water evaporating from his skin. He can only feel in the knowledge, fleeting and frightened, taking everything he's ever been sure of and crumpling it into neat round balls, lined up on the edge of his desk.

Utilitarians wince when he speaks to them, clutch their stomachs and breathe a little heavily. Kantians squint at him and pat him gently on the back, offer to buy him lunch. Meta-ethicists never want to know his reasoning, never bother to ask how he chooses his victims, or how they choose him. Virtue ethicists always want to tell him exactly what steps he should be taking, what for, when.

Everyone wants to tell him what steps he should be taking. Who to kill. Who to save. Who to be.

And all he has, every time, is the lever that turns the gear that twists the tracks that no one quite knows the direction of.

Out of all the superpowers out there, you consider yours the most sadistic; you can save any number of innocent people from death in the face of danger, but to gain that ability, you must kill an innocent person. Named after the infamous moral thought experiment, you are… Trolley Man.

[the-firebird69]

We had a lot of water here the place is still draining and it's real gross it's really up to the curb and over the sidewalk a little and slowly draining out the septic is a mess it's a nightmare the power is on cuz it's overhead but really it's not going to be nice until tomorrow or usable even tomorrow the septic is probably going to screwed up I was just put in the garbage and dump the piss out he says he dumped in the drain and it goes down and the ammonia kind of works somehow actually does and break stuff up but put a little bleach not much a quarter of a bottle I guess you're all peeing in it it should work but really the water down there needs something to unclog it and it's true but it's really a mess and it stinks inside real bad the stench is around horrific we probably won't stay there we'll probably treat it and he says just dump a half a bottle of bleach in the water makes it a little watering throw it on the floor that's what we did last time with the parrot poop so you have to really it's kind of similar we'll probably do that

Trump

I give permission to do it cuz we did it last time and it was he and I and yeah it's Stan so we're going to wait and see what they say but we know it's going to be probably time to wait

Stan

You know the timing I'm I'm talking about it we're all talking about I'm doing the work and everybody is dumping on him and it's like forget for Christ's sake can we do something simple without this harangue and God damn b******* and threats about it stupid s*** that's not going to happen I mean Jesus Christ Cara chomo no thanks that's what he says and their friends and it hasn't worked in in millenia and I don't want to hear this dog s*** with her screwing messing with them and harming him taking from him it's it's horrible this is a freaking nightmare so I'm going to have to try and do something isolating them in a different room you don't like that I'll go over there maybe you can drag him into the room with your screaming f****** idiot

Jason

Keep in mind I'm not used to baby screaming and stuff and crying and it was pretty bad if you got up for like an hour it was Thursday in the middle of the morning I slept about an hour and a half price because of screaming and screaming and waking everybody up and nobody said anything

Zues Hera

This is the weird part I think to choose to strong and upset and she is but everybody is just making it so they can't survive and they're going to beat you to death I heard some saying it while she's doing it and they're telling her and she's quiet for a while and she gets up it's like what the f*** are you doing what's the problem you can't figure it out he says she must be squished a little stupid as hell and that's like a child a 100% that's the problem so sorry become these people are sticking their mean and they don't want to hear that s*** and it's true so I don't know it's kind of people here to keep it quiet and holy s*** what a pain in the f****** ass there's nothing wrong here if you have a problem that's beyond what's going on you know taking it somewhere else

Jason

Olympus

I can't stand it anymore he'll stare over here after you do all that s*** when someone's talking to you about what you're f****** doing wrong and yeah I don't throw you across the gym you a late little piece of s*** I can throw all the way across the gym and hit the steel f****** God damn brace whenever you goddamn piece of s***

[carlosfruitsnacks]

due to recent events (at the time of this request anyway LMAOOOOOOO)

i think its only right if you write a carlos x reader (could be fem or gn) crackfic where he shapeshifts into a rabid dog in defense of the reader because one of his friends tried getting on in his insult saying that the reader is stupid

bonus if the reader is calmly doing something completely oblivious that a frothing rabid carlos as a dog is furiously chasing his own "friends" with a pocket knife on his mouth aimed at them is occurring behind them LMAO

"rabid danger"

summary:

—  Your boyfriend has always been the overprotective type, you know it. But unbeknownst to you, Carlos will go to any lengths to protect you, and yes, that includes shapeshifting into a dog with his mouth foaming and shit.

genre:

— crackfic

notes:

— gender-neutral reader, Carlos shapeshifts into animals. I do not speak fluent Spanish and all of the Spanish here is translated from google, feel free to correct me if I got something wrong though I will refrain from using too much Spanish.

warning/s:

— rabid Carlos lmfao

a/n:

—  one fucking crackfic filled with fresh crack coming your way <333

Being in a relationship with the one and only Carlos Madrigal was the best. You adore him with all your heart and soul and you're aware that he feels the same with you too, even if he doesn't show it that much. Carlos was...bizarre when it came to showing acts of affection. He likes to tease and insult you relentlessly, luckily, you don't get ticked off by it. He enjoys playing pranks on you but not to the point that'll hurt you. And he loves to do these weird things like sticking his tongue out and hissing like a snake every time something bothers him. When you would cuddle with him he'd unknowingly purr. Oh, and he likes to lick your cheek...a lot.

Despite your lover's very unusual behavior, you love him just the way he is. Today was any other day, the weather was particularly amazing so you asked Carlos out for a date. At first, he declines, you know he's not fond of public dates but then you pulled the magic trick on him and gave him the puppy dog eyes (his weakness) so he reluctantly says yes.

You drag your boyfriend around town, buying food and chatting with each other. You two decided to have lunch at your local eatery. Carlos would play a prank or two by transforming either into a snake or an insect to watch your horrified reaction. It was at that eatery did Carlos' friends showed up. They're a couple of dudes sneering at you but you were too busy eating your food. Carlos pipes up.

"Ey, pendejo, what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to ask if you guys have room for three"

"This is my date-"

"Oh, sure! Have a seat Andrés!"

You said with a smile. This guy, Andrés, along with his gang joined you two for lunch. They gingerly ordered food and interrupted Carlos' moment with you. He couldn't protest because of your kindness, you were always the kindhearted among you both so for your sake, he glues his lips shut. He glares at his friends as they keep hogging on all the fun.

Midway, you noticed that you have ordered the wrong food but you can't take it back since you've practically devoured it already. You frowned and turned to your boyfriend.

"Aw, amor, I ordered the wrong food but I can't ask for a refund because I already ate it"

"So, you're telling me, you didn't notice that you ordered the wrong food when you started eating it?"

"Lo siento. I was too hungry to notice"

You pouted at Carlos, the latter lets out a sigh and rubbed his temples as he whispered a string of curses.

"Ugh, you're such an idiot, [Name]"

"I'll just go order the food I want right now! Oh wait, I have no money..."

"And you're so stupid too"

Carlos rolled his eyes and handed you some spare money, your eyes twinkled as you took the money and went to go order more food. The shapeshifter kept an eye on you. One of his friends chuckled.

"So, you and [Name], huh? Never thought that would happen"

"Well, it did, cállate Santiago"

His friend, Santiago, scoffs and shoves food into his mouth. Carlos gives him a glare before checking on his lover, you were stumbling over your words while asking if it's possible to get a refund even if you have already eaten the food. Carlos groans and runs a hand through his curls.

"Oye Carlos, why'd have to go out with [Name]? There's a lot of other choices out there but you decided to stoop this low"

"It's none of your fucking business, Diego"

Carlos spat at Diego, the boy shuddered as he saw the animalistic look in his eyes. Andrés listened to the entire conversation and let out a laugh, Carlos raised a brow at him and looked at him, dangerously.

"Looks like [Name] isn't done getting their food yet"

"I know, they're such a fucking dumbass sometimes"

"Yeah, [Name]'s really dumb-"

At the speed of light, Carlos slammed his fist on the table, merely breaking it. All three of his friends flinched and looked at him wide-eyed. One of the things that irritated Carlos Madrigal the most is whenever someone would talk shit about you. It was only him who had the right to do that, no other person is allowed to do it. Carlos is aware of how nasty he can be when he's jealous but he's more terrifying when someone dares to shit-talk you.

"You fucking take that back"

Carlos whispered with venom towards Andrés, the other watched as his features were slowly morphing into a snake. His irises turned into slits as he began to hiss at him, Andrés tried to say something but the fear in his system beats him to it.

"I said, YOU FUCKING TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT [NAME]!"

"Carlos you need to chill! ¡Cálmate, muchacho!"

"Oh, you ain't calming me down, cabrón!"

"Come on, compadre! I was just being honest!"

"Oh yeah? Nobody gives a shit what you think, pendejo! But the moment you open that stupid mouth of yours and say stupid shit about mi amor I knew I had to fucking knock that head of yours to see if your brain's still there functioning!"

The shapeshifter hisses. Every one of his friends started bolting out to the door to escape him but Carlos was not having it. He momentarily lets out a loud groan as he reverted his form from a snake and then shapeshifts into a large Doberman with his pocket knife in his foaming mouth. Carlos now in dog form, growls and starts to chase after the three guys at full speed.

Meanwhile, you're patiently waiting for your food to be cooked while oblivious to the chaos occurring behind you. Humming, you're thinking if you wanted to order some extra food for Carlos, you were about to turn around and ask him personally but debated against it. You placed your chin on top of your knuckles while Carlos chased his friends behind you, drool dripping down to his chin as he keeps the pocketknife steady in his mouth.

"Here's your order!"

"¡Gracias!"

You grabbed your food, you were about to witness your boyfriend terrorizing his friends until you noticed that the food you ordered didn't have the sauce you requested.

"Excuse me? You forgot my sauce"

"Oh, my bad, let me get it for you!"

You smile and waited again. For some reason, you're oddly deaf to the blood-curling screams of Carlos' (ex) friends as he goes completely rabid on each one of them as a dog while frothing in the mouth. You're somewhat immune to what's happening in the background. Finally, your sauce arrives.

"Here you go"

"Thanks!"

With your food, you turn around to see....your lovely boyfriend sitting and patiently waiting for you, not a hair out of place. You grinned and sat across him, you gazed around to find his friends gone.

"Hmm? Where's Andrés and the others?"

"They left. Andrés' dog probably went rabid because he's a shitty dog owner who doesn't know when to shut the fuck up"

You emitted a loud cackle at Carlos' supposed joke, your boyfriend softly smiles at you for it. He watches you eat your food and enjoys the rest of your date as he pretends that he didn't just shapeshift into a fucking Doberman, foaming on the mouth, chasing his old friends until they got tired and left them with bruises and cuts outside the street. No, Carlos is just an overprotective boyfriend who loves you with all his heart. Yes, definitely not the boyfriend who beats up whoever talks shit about you. Haha...there's nothing to see here.

masterlist

[hauntdoesthings]

Platonic Bakusquad x reader headcanons/scenarios??

LOVE U ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

A/N: You're so sweet (≧▽≦)! You anons are just reading my mind lately, the Bakusquad is my ideal friend group!(@ any of my irl friends reading this, I'm sorry but it's true) Since you didn't specify much, I just did general headcanons, if there's anything more specific you'd like that I didn't cover please feel free to request again!

~~~~~

Best way to describe the Bakusquad: chaos with a babysitter

At any given moment, Denki and Mina are running off to do whatever latest idea (that'll more than likely go terribly wrong) they've come up with before Bakugou hunts them down. Kirishima and Sero probably fall on Bakugou's side more often than not, but Kiri can be convinced to do a lot of things for a friend or for the fun of it and Sero's just along for the ride

If you prefer the dumbass duo, be prepared for a lot of yelling and being dragged around. Blowing off study sessions for boba and a movie? Nope, Bakugou's already dragging off everyone that didn't come willing and just for trying to get out of it, you're starting with whatever subject is your worst/least favorite

If you're more of the parental friend, you've got your work cut out for you. Between Denki seeing if he could power the dorms on his own(he could, but he'll go whey very quickly) and Mina's endless schemes to make a new friend or pair off some pining idiots(girl's gonna burn herself out if she doesn't take a break), you wouldn't get much time to yourself if it wasn't for Bakugou and occasionally Sero and Kiri helping reign them in

That said, the group is very supportive of each other in spite of the frustration they may cause each other at times

Kirishima is the main supporter in the group. He makes sure everyone knows they can come to him for anything they think he can help with, whether it's a shoulder to cry on, a massage after training, or just listening to a rant after a long day

Mina is definitely the self-care guru of the group. She'll hook you up with face masks, scented candles and lotions, and whatever show you want as background noise while you spill your guts to her(and you will spill your guts to her, whether you intend to or not, it's like a second quirk of hers). She even gets the rest of the squad to have a whole self-care day at least once a month.

Denki is everyone's personal hype man, doesn't matter what it is. Staying back at the gym for extra training? He's your sparring partner or personal cheerleader. Studying extra hard for your exams? Can't promise he'll know what you're studying(even if he's taking the same test), but he's checking in on you at least once an hour, bringing snacks, drinks, and reminders to take breaks. Pranking Bakugou for a TikTok? He's already got the camera and his running shoes on.

Sero might not be as outspoken as your other friends, but he sort of takes pride in that too. He likes being the person his friends can come to just to chill out and decompress away from the usual hustle of school and classmates. If you're lucky, he'll take the bed and let you hang in his hammock(if you're extra lucky, he'll cuddle in it with you)(yes I'm a Sero simp, what about it).

Bakugou might hate to show it, but we all know he cares for "the idiots that follow him everywhere." Of course you might not notice the extra care he puts into making sure everyone's ready for the next test or properly fed and hydrated between all the yelling and scowling at you all.

Of course, no supportive friend group is complete without group cuddles. Whenever one of you is upset over something and just needing a lot of comfort(as long as they're comfortable with it), the whole group assembles to smother them in affection and remind them how much they mean to everyone.

For simplicity's sake, lets just do a cuddle pile with you in need of attention.

Kirishima, as the best cuddler, will usually be right on top of you or have you in his lap, squishing you into his chest as he rubs your head and back. Mina and Denki take up either side of you, each clinging to an arm, Mina playing with or braiding your hair and Denki whispering reassurances about how amazing you are while nuzzling his nose into your neck. Sero is by your legs, either laying on top of them if he can or sitting between them and facing you, head resting on his crossed arms, his weight a gentle reminder he's there for you. Bakugou, as always, doesn't want to be obvious about how much he cares for you, so he's off to the side of the pile, scrolling through his phone and hoping no one points out how he holds onto and squeezes your hand or the concern in his eyes when he glances over at you.

Overall, a lovely bunch to be in, all the attention and (chaos)care you could ask for.

[expectiations]

She cares about that wrapping paper. But she won't tell the Doctor it bothers her until the chance arises for that slightly out-of-pocket comment on Darillium.

I'd like to highlight this because it doesn't get talked about often enough. River cares and the Doctor cares about what River cares.

Okay, it does get talked about but usually only just the first part of the sentence and not the second part.

However, to argue for the Doctor, as evidenced by the excerpt Tree shared above, he is trying hard to understand human traditions. But this time, he tries extra hard because this is for his wife because it is important to his wife.

As for River, she should've told him about what she wanted.

...except, River is River. She's feisty and Hell in High Heels and trouble fears her as much as she seeks it out. She is also insecure, has mummy issues, has trauma and abuse for childhood memories, and was raised as a weapon.

And the Doctor is the Doctor. He's an idiot (fond) and a madman with a box. He's also insecure, broken, has terrible mental health, and isn't human (I can't stress that enough).

River tries hard to be a wife just like the Doctor tries hard to be a husband. Someone give this couple therapy.

...except, they're both so them that they can do the showy, universe-shaking grand actions but the little things (clear communication, for instance), which are a given for humans, are often a foreign notion that they have to learn immediately, please, for the sake of my mental health.

But, miscommunication also happens because of spoilers!

I know, darling. Which is why I grind my teeth when I remember that part because if there's anything I eschew, it's that trope. I understand that part of their life, but I don't understand why some takes vilify 11 (and usually praise 12 in one breath) over this when it's both the Doctor and River at fault.

Make no mistake in believing this is River hate because I love River. My entire world is built around them right now in fact. But to magnify the Doctor's faults while ignoring the other half of their marriage (which is usually composed of two people) is terribly unfair to both of them and I honestly would just like to have them dragged to a truth field together in canon to sort out their whatever because I need them to get their act together so I can get my act together.

deep breath

Thank you for attending my Yowzah talk.

“I don’t think you’ve ever given me a present before”

me @ eleven