#not that he isn’t strong + smart enough to handle himself because he is

[recareels]

Tartaglia is getting increasingly jealous about the attention you are giving daddy dendro, be careful clari😳

WAAAAH anon!!! (*/ω＼*) stop hehehe u just made me so giddy!!! he is such the jealous type tho like the man is borderline yandere and lately i’ve been thinking about just how he’d react, knowing he was my first favourite, my original favourite, but then came ayato and thoma (a packaged deal, of course), and now here comes alhaitham, stomping all over everything with his big stupid boots and what the fuck??? ajax was here first, and he doesn’t even have a single fic to show for it, only bits and pieces of finished work!? that’s not fair! hehehe waaah i just feel like he’d be fuming over it all and def plotting some clever yet gruesome murders ｡：ﾟ(｡ﾉω＼｡)ﾟ･｡

[syoddeye]

consequence

price x f!reader | 1069 words nice tags: loser x loser, john price having a sliver of game, but it works a/n: continuation of this shortie. played myself here. 💀

“orange?”

“green.”

“what?”

“sorry, are we not naming colors?”

he's simultaneously wounded and amused that she doesn’t even look up to lash him with her tongue. suppose his attempts are ten a penny—she gets chatted up every day; he’s seen it firsthand.

ever since he tracked her to the shop a little over three weeks ago, he’s become a regular. he goes out of his way to visit and watch her handle interested parties like a professional. from the vantage of his usual table, he pretends to read or scroll on his phone, listening in on how she rebuffs them. his own politeness is rewarded with a gradual drop in her guard.

see, from his observations, he’s deduced what other prospects lack: persistence. something he has in spades.

he moves down the counter with her. it’s always slower in the afternoon, affording the time to talk. her good-for-nothing coworker is on another break.

“your cast.” he gestures. “brand new?”

she fumbles the tamper and bites out a quick, “yep.” 

“no signatures.” her last one—bright blue—was nearly black with names and drawings just yesterday.

“got it this morning before i clocked in.”

“your boss still made you come in after that?”

“yeah, well, some of us have to work—shit.” she drops the tamper and portafilter, both thunking onto the rubber mat at her feet. grounds litter the counter and floor, and her eyelids twitch.

accident prone. unlucky. perhaps both.

john considers jumping the bar. a glance at the staff door says her coworker isn’t rushing to help, but he can’t push the line he’s drawn. in pencil. with a light hand.

after all, it wasn’t too long ago that she was jilted in love. she might as well wear a handle with care label.

she swears, fetches a hand broom and pan, then ducks.

“can i—?” he starts.

“absolutely not.” she snips, alternating tools in her good hand, piling the spilled grounds.

john lets a brief silence stretch, listening to the broom swish and other customers typing on laptops. he leans far enough to cast a shadow over her, and his mind wanders off.

“i didn’t mean to snap. or insinuate you’re, uh, underemployed.”

his focus splinters, his daydreams burst. god help a lech like him. sees a pretty girl on her knees and he’s fifteen years younger. christ. he distracts himself with the mess on the counter.

“takes more than a smart remark to hurt me.”

“yeah? well, watch out for scooters. that’s all it took to hurt me.” she smirks with eyes downcast, sweeping the pile into the pan.

if you’d just popped to the door, love. fessed up. i’d’ve taken care of you.

“mm, you’re resilient though. you got back up.”

she stands, shrugging. “like i said. had to. girl’s gotta eat. bills don’t pay themselves.”

“truer words.” john offers his share of collected grounds and a smile.

she murmurs thanks as she disposes of the coffee and moves to restart his drink until he raises a hand.

“give it a rest.”

“you paid for it.” she squints, disbelieving he’s passing on his coffee. her lips press together, and the small scar from the crash punctuates her uncertainty.

“i want somethin’ else.” his true intentions must bleed through his eyes because the corners of her mouth then pull down. he swiftly adds, “let me sign it.”

she nearly drops everything a second time. “you want to sign it. my cast?” 

“do you have somethin’ else i could sign?” 

her nostrils flare when she’s surprised. embarrassed? it’s cute. he wants to see it again.

“fine. here.” she dumps the pan, sets it aside, and hands him the marker she keeps clipped to her apron.  

he’s careful when he leans closer, concentrating, ignoring the ding of the bell above the cafe’s door. the warmth of her skin seeps through where he holds her arm steady. his chin dips, relishing the strong scent of espresso and how nice and still she’s standing. it’s impulsive, deciding to smudge the line he’d drawn.

she only notices as he writes the last digit next to ‘john’.

“are you—is that your phone number?” 

the bell rings again, and a cluster of voices follow.

“it is.” john confirms with a satisfied grin, glancing at his uniform scrawl. he caps her pen and slides it into the top pocket of her apron. time’s run out with the arrival of the mid-afternoon rush. clockwork. “good chat.” he winks, savors the finer details of her sweet, bewildered expression, and weaves around the small crowd of office workers in for a pick-me-up.

he’s pure confidence on the trip home, imagining what she’ll say when she calls or texts. how he’ll surprise her with his car on the first date. what? why’re you staring like that? how does it look familiar? he cracks himself up, thinking of how he’ll pry a confession out of her, then lean into it. what a coincidence. must be fate, visiting your shop.

his phone remains on the table as he goes about the rest of the day, half-heartedly doing what needs to be done while home. she works until seventeen-hundred, so he doesn’t expect immediacy. it doesn’t stop him from finding excuses to hover nearby or snatching up the device when it pings ten minutes after closing.

>> if this is a plot to get free drinks, i only get one a shift and it’s for me

> It’s a ploy to buy you a drink, if you’d like.

three dots appear and disappear rapidly.

>> i’m not drinking right now >> considering how i got the cast

> then what are your plans for tomorrow?

persistence.

>> supermarket

> Wonderful. Send your address. I’ll pick you up.

>> oh you’re one of those guys >> self invitation type >> you don’t need to come???

> Are you going to carry them yourself?

another round of dots. 

>> good point >> fine, be my muscle

> Gladly. 

she sends her address, which he promptly inputs into a search engine. decent area, expensive rent. clicks his tongue as he clicks through the photos from an old listing. hopefully, the pathetic-looking deadbolt’s been updated.

he suggests a time.

>> works for me

> Good. See you tomorrow. 

>> yeah yeah, night john x

his eyes hitch to the ‘x’, and his chest tightens. he exits the rental site and glances around his flat. yeah, she’ll fit in quite nicely.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[spitgobbler]

I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.

[poeticpascal]

White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul. 

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go. 

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again. 

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem-” 

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see. 

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

[teh-tj]

17 Reasons

1 Because the eagles would have been spotted by Sauron.

2 Controlling the eagles is very difficult and requires a great intellect and soul to accomplish. Gandalf was the only one like that, and still he had to find the eagles since you can’t simply tame them.

3 The eagles live mostly in the Misty Mountains, meaning the take off point would have been spotted by Sauron’s army.

4 Mount Doom is too hot for the eagles to fly directly above, it's also a volcano which emits toxic fumes.

5 Eagles are very smart and powerful creatures, they developed concepts like greed and language. The ring would have corrupted them after long exposure. Remember, the ring must be handled by a weak race who wouldn’t be corrupted by it, and Hobbits are the only intelligent race this applies to and even then it’s not 100%. (look at Gollum)

6 Eagles are massive, and since they’re strong enough to carry two full-grown human men we know they’re exceptionally strong. Because of this, they require a lot of energy, eg calories. If they rode the eagles from their natural habitat to Mount Doom they’d have to stop for food breaks constantly. IRL Eagles have to eat a pound (450 grams) of food a day, with the eagles themselves weighing around 14 lbs (6kg). Let’s say if the eagles weigh as much as a small horse, or 700lbs (318kg), that would mean they’d need 50 pounds of food a day.

7 To add to the last point, they’d be very prone to physical exhaustion. Due to their size and dietary needs we’d have to assume the eagles would need a lot of breaks in general.

8 If the eagles are shot down, a very real risk given the size of Sauron’s army, the fall would surely kill a significant portion of the Fellowship of the Rings. A risk Gandalf is too smart to take.

9 The eagles, weighing over 700lbs (318kg) would produce humongous poops, and birds don’t have sphincters. Imagine a dump the size of a large microwave falling on you from the sky, the fellowship is comprised of people too good to risk harming someone like that.

10 Since the eagles are so big they’d be too loud and noticeable. Sauron didn’t know about the plan to destroy the ring until it was too late. If he saw the eagles flying straight for Mount Doom he’d know something was up.

11 Gandalf isn’t the only being that can control the eagles, since eagles live so close to Mordor Sauron’s army would, upon realizing the Fellowship was coming, get their most powerful people to fly eagles to fight them. As cool as that sounds, I doubt the fellowship would want that.

12 The eagles might eat the hobbits, and perhaps the dwarves if they’re ballsy enough. Hobbits are around 3-4 feet (91-121cm) each and are said to be plump, so assuming they weigh as much as an overweight child they’re around 50lbs (23kg) which is around as much as the eagles should eat daily if you remember, and the dwarves and slightly taller and vastly more muscular so they’d be around 75lbs (34kg). That’s already a slight majority of the party which, in a pinch, would make for a great eagle feast.

13 If this feast were to happen all hope would be lost, and no other hobbit (almost the only race trusted with this mission) would even want to attempt to destroy the ring with Gandalf.

14 The eagles are too preoccupied with having their own lives. They might do Gandalf a favor and take a day to fly the fellowship to Mordor, but the journey would have taken days without the journey (the Shire and Mordor are practically on the opposite ends of Middle Earth) and I’m not sure most eagles would care enough to do that.

15 They needed to gather intelligence and protect Rohan from Sauron’s invasion along with destroying the ring.

16 If Gollum, the crazy mf, snuck onto one of the eagles somehow he would have destroyed the entire operation.

17 Tolkien himself confronted this. Tolkien said that the eagles are some of the most powerful creatures in Middle Earth and that any good writer would use them sparingly.

[bloomeng]

I made a post talking about my frustration with Lxc mischaracterization and several people mentioned in the tags the adjacent fanon Lxc problem, aka the “himbo” characterization.

Himbo is now just one of those internet words that has been so overused and thrown out of its original context that to me it almost has no meaning. My eyes sort of just glaze over it, which might be why it doesn’t bother me as much. But as far as mischaracterization goes— oh definitely Lxc is not at all a himbo.

Definitions vary but in my opinion to be a himbo one must be three things:

1) Obviously strong

To be a himbo it’s not enough to just be strong, you must be visibly strong. Bimbo and himbo’s were originally negative descriptors given to hot people who were supposedly stupid. What I’m getting at is it’s a visual aesthetic. If a character’s strength isn’t immediately identifiable then they’re not a himbo. I’m not talking “has to have a six pack,” I’m talking clothing that inadvertently reveals their strength. It’s about how they present themselves the same way bimbo is about how you present yourself. To be clear the majority of characters aren’t aware of the himbo label but they are conscious of the way they dress. They’re not dressing to fit a mold they’re dressing to show off in a way they think is cool. (Ex: characters like Itto and Galo walking around shirtless for the vibe)

2) Dumb in an oblivious way

Himbos aren’t book smart, nor are they great at grasping highly technical things, but they do shock everyone around them with their emotional intelligence. This trait comes from the newer, more positive interpretation of the label that the internet has created. Himbos are no longer flat out stupid, no they’re just a little dumb but they have a big heart. It’s the simplicity in their logic that allows them to be so straightforward and cut through the bs to the humanity of any given issue. However, it also means a lot goes over their heads. The obliviousness is the key to their dumb characterization because it’s what allows them to be so open and loud about what they believe in.

3) Kind

I already partially touched on this in the previous blurb but apart of the new understanding of a himbo is their capacity for kindness. Usually himbos are written to have strong internal moral codes that are very simple, but it’s the simplicity that allows them to see past the cultural norms and politics and just be respectful to everyone regardless of their background. That’s why people often say himbos can’t be sexist, racist, etc. Which I mostly agree with, but I do think that there are levels to this. I think if we’re discussing characters, himbos are allowed some minor prejudices as a flaw that they then work through. Sokka, while not a himbo, is a good example of a character who starts a series with a flaw (sexism) that comes from a well meaning place but grows from it. The important thing is the capacity to respect everyone.

Now Lxc does have some of these traits but he doesn’t display them in a way that matches what a himbo is.

Stength:

He’s very strong both in his cultivation and physically. Too bad we can’t see that just by looking at him.

Oblivious:

Lxc’s whole thing is that he’s literally book smart. Never once is oblivious to a situation. He purposely allows himself some blissful ignorance when it came to the situation between Jgy and Nmj but that was his one selfish act. He’s well adept when it comes to handling politics more so than anyone in the book. If you think that Lxc’s internal logic is simplistic that’s a fundamental misunderstanding of his character. The dumbest he ever gets is tied to class, where he struggles to do daily chores, and even then he’s never shown to be oblivious to the social hierarchy.

Kindness:

This is probably the trait Lxc embodies the most. He is very kind. That being said his internal logic system is not simplistic at all. Lxc is a lot more morally grey than he seems at first glance. While he feels strongly about not judging others based on their backgrounds he also has a deep understanding of exactly why certain people aren’t accepted in the first place. He understands his status and accepting Jgy was absolutely a calculated move on his part. It was coming from a good place but he also understood the delicacy of the situation. If he were actually a himbo he would’ve had none of that delicacy and pitched a very loud fit over it.

All of this is to say he’s no where near the realm of himbo. I think the only types of people who refer to him as one are typically the same people who only engage with his character on the most surface level. They mean well because it’s supposed to be a compliment— which might be why I don’t mind it as much— but it’s also just fundamentally the exact opposite of his character. He’s a passive reserved artist who’s been forced into a leadership position where he has to navigate politics.

[skyward-floored]

Whenever you get to this -- it's not terribly important, but how would you describe each of the chain's personalities to be like?

You’ve found my writing weakness Ladye, I struggle immensely with looking at a character and writing out their personality XD

That’s an interesting question! One I think about a lot when I’m writing actually, because at their core? All the Links are made of the same stuff. It can be difficult to parse out what makes them individuals sometimes (especially writing it out 😂) but I did my best here!

Under a readmore because this is LONG

Time - stubborn, responsible, and serious, but not as much as you’d expect from his appearance. Most leader-y of the group, he’s stern yes, but mostly only when he’s trying to keep the other Links safe (the Like Like incident, when Twilight is injured and insists he’s well enough to fight, etc). His overall personality seems to me more lighthearted then you’d expect at first glance— after all, he enjoys teasing the other Links, and even pranks them now and then.

It seems like he’s largely moved past and healed from what happened during his adventures, (probably due to how it’s been longer since them unlike the other Links), and not much seems to bother him. He can even joke about them a little (“the moon”), though he stays mysterious about details. He seems a pretty private person as well, except around his wife and a few select others.

Twilight - protective and stubborn to a fault, he cares deeply for those he loves. Another leader of the group, but he doesn’t think of himself as the leader-type as much. He falls into the role though, since the others tend to look to him, and he manages it well.

He has a melancholic sense about him, one that he’s only partially-good at hiding. He’s still very much getting over his complicated feelings about Midna’s departure, and that sadness bleeds into his personality sometimes. Good with kids and animals, knows how to wrangle them both really well, but he can be a little overprotective on occasion, and forgets how age isn’t necessarily an indicator of how responsible and/or skilled you are, which the younger Links bristle at.

Warriors - polished, put together, and a bit prideful, but he’s well aware of what happens if he gets too cocky and keeps it in check. The other leader of the group, he seems to focus largely on making plans, and keeping up the overall morale of the Links. A charmer, good at saying what people want to hear, and also figuring out what makes people tick. His first impression of people is rarely incorrect.

Good at keeping the group organized, and one of the few Links good at working alongside others, he also seems to be the one to break up fights if they get to be less teasing and more serious. Has a strong sense of justice as well, he hates those who would betray their allies/beliefs.

Four - Calm and focused and very mature, so much that several of the others believe him to be much older than he is. He’s very good at keeping his emotions in check and staying collected, right up to the point where he... isn’t. Gets frustrated with himself if he gets to that point and lashes out, but this only happens rarely.

One of the quietest Links, he tends to keep to himself, but he’s one of the heroes most used to being in a group, and generally handles it very well. Very book-smart and eager to learn, but has a deep distrust of any sort of magic that’s even remotely dark. Also knows how to keep the peace, and generally smooth flaring tempers... unless he’s the one who’s upset.

Wind - the youngest but by no means the weakest Link, Wind is a skilled fighter for his age and the brightest personality among the group. Exuberant and cheerful, his happy attitude can sometimes be taken for frivolousness. But he’s able to take a situation just as seriously as the rest of them— he just tends to look on the bright side of it.

Tends to be underestimated due to his age, and he’s not afraid to call people out on it. He fights hard to be taken seriously, and greatly appreciates how Time treats him as just as capable as everyone else. He still has a childish side to him though, which can be both a strength and a weakness.

Wild - fond of exciting schemes, always willing to go along with what seems like a crazy idea, and deeply traumatized with an identity crisis on top. Tends to be very argumentative and quick to make jokes, but usually he knows when he’s going too far (...usually). Highly defensive of Zelda, and not afraid to argue against any conceived slight against her. She had enough bad things said about her when she couldn’t unlock her powers, and he takes his defense of her seriously.

Greatly insecure about how much of a hero he is due to how he failed— being around so many others who succeeded is difficult, especially when they rarely discuss how close they all came to failing sometimes. Has the greatest trouble working in a group, and it’s caused several issues in the time he’s been with the Links, especially with those that are used to it.

Legend - prickly exterior, soft all the way through. Quick to tease and throw jabs, but he doesn’t truly mean anything by it. It’s a defensive measure more then anything to keep people at arm’s length. Could be a leader, but he chooses not to be— he doesn’t like all that responsibility on his head, and will only step up if the others are truly out of commission.

Reliable and mature for his age due to all his adventures, he seems totally unbothered by what he went through (though Koholint especially weighs heavy on his heart). Seems aloof at times, but cares just as much as Twilight, even if he doesn’t outwardly show it. Is younger than he projects himself to be.

Hyrule - humble and kind, he’s also got a level of sass that sometimes rears it’s head and surprises people. Tends to downplay himself and his skills, doesn’t think he’s a true “hero” like the others, despite being skilled in almost anything he puts his mind to. Has incredible tenacity and refuses to give up no matter the odds against him— he’s made of stronger stuff then he thinks.

Very decisive, knows when to act, and would make a great leader someday if he ever managed to get past his poor view of himself. Has a mysterious side to him as well, similar to Time’s in a way. Not the best in a group, generally prefers to be in either a smaller group or by himself.

Sky - seemingly open with his emotions, kind and cheerful, Sky seems a bit airheaded at times. But he has a great strength of spirit, and is deadly on the battlefield— those who have underestimated him have not lived to tell the tale.

Has a mischievous side that isn’t immediately evident, but it’s there, and its quite a sight to behold when his sassiness comes up with it as well. Tends to keep his heavier thoughts and emotions close to his chest though, and prefers to push through and not dwell on them, which is bad news later when it gets to be too much for him.

[kickthecan-revolution]

Peach went to an adoption event held by the rescue in San Rafael, a good 30m drive from the city. When I tell you how I thought I was going to vomit on the way there. It was nuts. I couldn’t imagine him being in a little glass cage by himself and when I got there it wasn’t even that, they were actually cages that someone could open and just pet them. He’s not been in any contact with anyone except the vet, and a housesitter who he hid from underneath the blankets. How in the world was he going to be OK out in public?

But of course, the continued lesson for me is I really have no idea who this little cat is and what he can take. He did well, slept, and was just mellow and snoozing most of the time. He looked deeply into this woman’s face, it was almost a little creepy how he would do that with anyone who stopped by to pet him. The lady in this picture was a little interested for someone she knows who is in assisted-living but the rescue owner and I chatted about it quickly -the potential owner really wanted a tabby lap cat. Peach has a bit of tabby but is mostly Siamese and Maine coon. Plus I’m unsure about a kitten in this scenario. So Amanda -the rescue owner - recommended another older cat who fits the bill. Speaking of Amanda, she is amazing, I asked how she doesn’t get attached and she said her heart is just happiest when she’s finding homes for all of them, even the ones she falls in love with.

I also got to pet Wendy, the beautiful Siamese, Peach’s sibling. They were cuddled together just three months ago and now didn’t even seem to recognize each other.

Amanda confirmed that over 20 cats have been TNR’d in Peech’s neighborhood and eight kittens - plus Peach and Wendy’s mom - are being socialized up for adoption. All because of me grabbing Peach. That’s pretty cool.

So now we’re back home just chilling, watching the moon.

Three things.

I’m needy. Very needy. I try to hide it most of the time but Amanda joked about it a bit and it was a little hard to hear because it’s true. I try to deal with it by hiding it because I know how it pushes others away. I’m embarrassed by how big and messy it is in me - it’s screaming and panicked, all of the time. This professional persona is learned. I’m needy. I’ve not ever said that out loud before because I’ve been so ashamed by it, smart enough to know that it’s the kiss of death to cultivating relationships with the people I am drawn to - really strong women who aren’t needy, who possess an inner strength - so I bury it, push it down hard when it bubbles. I find ways of reacting to it quietly when I can. If I had to guess, if these women are willing to befriend me, it means I’m not needy anymore. I’m strong enough and cool enough - calm enough inside - for them. I’m ok. But there’s this version I’ve created for them that they interact with that isn’t not really me. Saying that, admitting that is important. It’s so clear now.

Second, it was so good to be with people. The degree to which I am by myself, in my head is way worse for my mental health than I realize, and hiding my neediness constantly makes it even more so. I loved chatting with people, animal people are the best kind of human.

Third, I disassociate more than I realize. I stopped for gas on the way to the event, and I was so anxious and in my head, I ended up giving five bucks to a homeless guy standing by the gas pump, put the handle into my car, watched the homeless guy walk away and didn’t even pump any gas, I realized it a few blocks away.

This is the shadow work that people talk about. This isn’t about these cats, not really, this is about me.

[sphnyspinspin]

An itty bitty draft for my TF fan-continuity.

Transformers: Bold, Bright, and Brisk

(AKA The Brisk Continuity)

super catchy, I know…

On the TF Wiki for RBA Hotshot, it actually said he’s a Wrecker, and in the beginning, I was going to make Whirl a Wrecker and Hotshot an Autobot(I know the factions aren’t too different but it’s for the narrative I promise) and then I was like, what if I just did a switcheroo, and make Whirl the Autobot. Because since Hotshot is actually a Wrecker, it would just make him and Heatwave connect more in a father-son kinda way, ya know.

Also meaning Hotshot became a very famous athlete, a cube athlete nonetheless, while having a Wrecker background, which some would label as uncoordinated brutes who are only good for construction. Hotshot showed them what for. Especially by earning a scholarship after one of the most important cube games. A scholarship to a school that was founded by the Optimus Prime. With Hotshot’s popularity and experienced athleticism along with being part of a team, made him a perfect candidate to get the school more recognition, as a bonus of course. He also may or may not try to start a school cube team while he’s there as well.

Wedge is a Decepticon, obviously, and I feel like Wedge being the first, and probably the only, Decepticon Rescue Bot, he would want to be able to prove to himself and to others that he can be a great hero just like anyone else, despite having a delinquent background. He just doesn’t want to hide it this time, since he would absolutely want to inspire others who are just like him. By winning that contest that took - flexibility, strength, intelligence, and durability - he absolutely crushed it and won a full scholarship to the Academy. But, that came with the cost of the school not getting many new students, due to many not feeling too happy about a school built by Optimus Prime letting in a former trouble-maker Decepticon, which is practically just dancing on the Prime’s grave.

Having amazing test scores, an astonishing acrobatic skill set, and an indistinguishable sense of justice, Whirl is one of the most gifted students on Cybertron. Although, as much as Whirl is smart and strong she can be just as much as an eccentric wild card. Which is what most deem as, too unprofessional for such a distinguished profession such as a peacekeeper. Whirl has picked up on how most people treat her from just plainly patronizing her, to putting her up on this pedestal, to where she would be pressured to set a more proper example. And when she finally got off that pedestal is when her application to Rescue Bots Academy was finally excepted.

Being an engineer who helped repair many of the finest Sigmas for many bots was no easy task. Not to mention being a Dinobot engineer while also being scared of Dinobots. Well, Hoist isn’t necessarily scared of Dinobots, just the loud roaring, giant claws, sharp fangs, and not to mention he’s practically the runt of the litter compared to his cousins, so he could easily get squished. He has no sharp appendages or a loud roar, yet he is one of the most insightful engineers in the business. Creating advanced tools, easily repairing generators, and even creating an automated cleaning droid to help with the mess. His family immediately took notice, and they were all able to save up enough units to finally get him to where he can properly flourish his creativity.

He’s one of the stranger inhabitants of Wreck-Gar’s homeworld. Despite living in a so called dump, Medix is one of the more tidier bots who has had a strange fascination with cataloguing. Though he is one of the youngest bots within the community, he is very independent when trading supplies with pirates and handling the more unsettling creatures of the planet. Everybody knows that Junkions are practically indestructible, but it still doesn’t hurt any less when having your arm ripped off or being bitten by something venomous - that’s where Medix comes in. Until one day, an old bot who goes by Ratchet, came across the young medic who’s made a name for himself. The leader of the Junkions Wreck-Gar decided himself that the best course of action to establish stronger ties with Cybertron was to let Medix be taken underneath the renowned doctor’s servo. Very against the idea at first - the reclusive - Medix reluctantly accepted the mentorship, only under the condition that he gets to visit the zoo on the way to the academy.

:HOTSHOT OF CRYSTAL CITY:

Former Occupation) Professional Cube Athlete

Academic Occupation) Firefighter

Faction) Wrecker

Alt) ATV

:WEDGE OF STANIX:

Former Occupation) Hardwire Specialist

Academic Occupation) Architect

Faction) Decepticon

Alt) Bulldozer

:WHIRL OF CYBERTROPOLIS:

Former Occupation) Crossing Gaurd

Academic Occupation) Police Officer

Faction) Autobot

Alt) Helicopter

:HOIST OF YUSS:

Former Occupation) Sigma Repairman

Academic Occupation) Engineer

Faction) Dinobot

Alt) Tyrannosaurus Rex

:MEDIX OF JUNKION:

Former Occupation) Practioner

Academic Occupation) Field Medic

Faction) Junkion

Alt) Ambulance

***

This also is definitely an excuse to sort of smoosh together TF Cyberverse and TF Prime and TF Rescue Bots Academy because it’s been a dream of mine since of late 2022. I am so excited to start learning about these factions and how they could affect each of kids’ lives before the academy.

Disclaimer, these all take place like a Vorn(83 cyber-years) after the war. And both Optimus Prime and Megatron are DEAD. PERIODT. Optimus died by doing something like he did in Predacon’s Rising by jumping in the well to revive Cybertron. Megatron is going to be based way more off of Cyberverse Megs, I don’t feel too bad about cutting him out, and he was killed by Starscream. No I’m not elaborating, this is still a draft.

I already shared like a lot, so I don’t want to over analyze everything I came up with. Cause if I did I would’ve blown your minds and my mind as well. But I still loved doing all this random research on factions and cities, I want to know so much more about this stuff and rant about it forever and ever.

Wanna give me an excuse to rant? Go ahead. But not like right after I post it, maybe wait a couple hours or maybe a day, because I will be passing out after posting this…

Look what I made!! @novafire-is-thinking @asmoteeth @sonia-aquamarineson @sonicnerd @geluatekurama @heatblades @magically-maddie

[mister-mickey]

Tim x Darry headconnons plz (like if they can get married or what is it like if they have an adopted child) SORRY TO ASK SO MUCH I just love this ship and its really my favorite one

THANK YOU🙏🏻

Omg tarry is my favorite pairing, I have made these little ship headcanons as well (tarry hcs)

BUT onto these ones

They mostly bond over being both the leaders of their respective gangs and over taking care of their younger siblings ❤️

They are terrible with emotions, communication between them is like pulling teeth 😭

They also have a hard time with each others siblings. Darry CANT STAND curly and is scared of Angela. Tim gets along with both pony and soda but anytime he gets them into trouble darry gets mad at him.

He’s really rather not piss his beau off

They’ve known each other since they were kids (thanks to living in the same area) but were never friends. It was only really after Darry got more involved in greaser stuff that they got along lol

Tim can’t cook for shit. He tries but it sucks so bad. Darry keeps trying to help him but Tim is unhelpable.

Darry is aware that Tim can handle himself, but still gets protective when ppl talk about him. Tim gets mad every time (but also does the same thing)

And omg I’m all the way into this list realizing that I did not answer the other part of the question so I’ll do that now

So for marriage (not legal for homos in the 60s sadly, so I’m sure it’s just a celebration among friends and family) it probably takes them awhile. I can’t imagine either of them really wanting to settle straight away. Maybe they’re in their late twenties/early thirties

Tim probably moves into Darry’s house after pony and soda move out (and after angie and curly are well off enough to be alone)

Tim probably stops gang life in his twenties, just because he gets older and more mature (and not cool anymore) darry stops once the others stop.

For the wedding, again, family and friends. Probably in the form of a cookout at their house. They get rings but I don’t think either of them wear them (they don’t seem like jewellry wearers. They probably keep them on chains around their necks)

Pony officiates lol. Idk I just feel like he would. Soda cries the whole time (Steve has to physically pull him off of darry)

I imagine dally and curly pulling some sort of nonsense at the wedding to piss Tim off (yes I’m choosing to keep dally and Johnny alive)

Tim’s gang isn’t really his family, at this point in his life, he probably doesn’t even know them anymore. So it’s just curly and Angela at the wedding for him.

Darry ofc is the one that people came to see (mr star of the show)

As for a kid, I’d like to say they probably wouldn’t have one, at least not for a while. They both raised their little siblings, they aren’t eager to do it again.

BUT it’s also cute to imagine them having a baby (especially because of how tim is canonically good with babies)

Idk where they got it. Maybe it was left in their doorstep, idk. Fact is, they have a child

Tim wants to be the cool dad but darry has taken that spot without even trying.

Baby adores darry because he’s strong and can throw it in the air ❤️

Tim is jealous ofc. He’s way cooler than darry, the baby just isn’t smart enough to see that yet

Baby still loves him a lot though 🌸

They’re good dads. Not perfect ofc, but they love the baby and the baby loves them.

Now as for the baby’s one million uncles and one aunt.

Angela LOVES the baby. Like, darry is worried she will steal it. She’s always trying to get the baby to say her name (baby calls her “Ana”)

Twobit is next on people taht are obsessed with the baby. I’m sure he has his own kids (seems like the type tbh) but the baby is DARRYS kid. He can’t wait until it’s old enough to be a bad influence on

Dallas is not allowed near the baby because Tim refuses to put the baby down when he’s around (he thinks dally will somehow corrupt his >1 year old and make it dally jr)

Soda is the best uncle by far. He and Johnny are very soft with the baby. Soda is, however, guilty of dropping the baby. He is no longer allowed to hold the baby.

Johnny is scared to hold the baby, but once it’s walking he will play (very gently)

Steve, curly, and pony are the babies worst enemies. Baby fucking hates them so much and it breaks their hearts.

Baby bites steve any chance it gets. Hits him, grabs his nose (which everyone else thinks is adorable but Steve sees it for the attack that it is) Steve has no clue what he did but the baby is his #1 hater

Baby doesn’t like pony. Wont even look at him. Pony adores the baby and this rejection hurts.

Curly and the baby tussle quite often. Baby loves yanking his curls (getting its grubbing fingers tangled in, as someone with baby experience, ow ow ow) if the baby pulls his hair, he pulls the baby’s hair right back. They are sworn enemies.

He loves the baby ofc but keeps a careful distance.

Baby grows up to be an okay kid. Can’t do anything without darry or tim finding out since they both know EVERYONE.

Idk someone name the baby my brain is mush

[capricioussun]

4am time to post massive snippet from a note I will not be sharing the rest of <3

Personally, I see UF Papyrus as having self worth issues not so much in the way of self hatred or low self esteem (under the bravado he puts out), but rather that he hinges his self worth almost entirely on how useful he can be. It’s put a tremendous strain on his own inner relationship with himself, that he almost lacks a sense of self. He becomes what he needs to be, to survive, for acceptance, in the hope of “earning” love admiration, to keep them safe. As long as he’s successfully doing those things, nothing else matters.

He’s convinced himself of that so much, so thoroughly, that he never lets himself fail, never lets himself give up. Because if he does, then what’s the point? What’s he there for? If he can’t even do what he sees as the bare minimum, what good does he do by existing at all?

Whenever I think about surface scenarios at length, there’s almost always some point he stumbles into an existential crisis. He has such a genuinely hard time understanding the reasoning “just because”. His entire life has been means to an end but the end wasn’t an ending at all.

Despite wanting friends and acceptance and affection, those have always been a “waste of time”, or even dangerous. A vulnerability waiting to be exploited. He and Sans always stuck together because it was the smart thing to do, because no one else knew them like they knew each other, because they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt they could always trust each other, and that was rare. The concept of Sans actually caring about him, enough to want to be part of his life simply because they’re brothers, isn’t entirely alien, but it’s never been enough before. If he isn’t useful to Sans, why would they bother? And since they don’t live together anymore, and Sans has Toriel to cook and clean, and he actually likes, seeks her company, why would Sans want anything to do with him?

Would he want that? Well of course! Not that he’d easily admit it, but he’d felt like he’d lost the right to being part of Sans’ life “just because” a long time ago. Back when he started feeling like more trouble than he was worth. When they barely had any food or stable shelter and it seemed like all he ever managed to do was annoy Sans or get them in trouble. Sure, he’d managed to “make himself worth it” by “pulling his own weight” eventually, but that set the standard for him.

He and Undyne were fierce allies, Captains of the North and South, she’d known him since he was a teenager, they’d looked out for each other. Maybe they each had different priorities, but at the end of the day, through even the roughest of patches, they’d formed a strong loyalty to each other. But they weren’t friends, don’t be ridiculous. The notion that she would choose to spend time with him for any other reason than that they work together is absurd. Sure, maybe they’d taken comfort in being able to relax around each other enough knowing the other wouldn’t stab them in the back, but again, that was just something to take advantage of being so rare in their society. If their furthering of trust building no longer benefits them, why would she want that? What does she gain from talking to him about “unimportant” personal matters anymore?

Frisk, Frisk at least he understands. They’re just a child, after all, they need protection and guidance. When children are young they also still need more “emotional” support, too, they’re still learning how the world works. But once they’re older and more capable of handling themself, of course they won’t need him anymore. That’s just how it works, they won’t need the protection, they wouldn’t gain anything from dealing with him beyond what would be expected professionally, and perhaps maintaining a few personal ties to help support a strong working relationship as well.

And it’s bizarrely self contained, too. He doesn’t automatically view others’ relationships through the same lens because so much of why he views his own this way stem from the burden of responsibility that’d been impressed on him from an incredibly early age, first by Gaster, then Sans, then Asgore. Sans and Toriel care about each other, simply because they do, just as Toriel cares for Frisk and Undyne and Alphys care for each other. But for him, he has to earn it. He has to be worth taking up space in someone’s life, he has to serve a purpose because he was made to serve a purpose, and it’s only exacerbated by how deeply he’d come to view his own intrinsic personality traits as negative.

Being kind, believing in the greater good, looking for the best in others was a quick way to get dusted and Sans tried desperately hard to teach that to him when they were living on the streets, because he had to. A good natured little kid like him would’ve been swallowed whole by their world and it was all Sans could do to teach him to repress and reject those tendencies. He needed to harden up and learn to prioritize himself but he never did because that contradicted with his “serving a purpose” mentality and led to Papyrus prioritizing the well being of everyone else first, but prioritizing his own well being enough to make sure he survived to be able to otherwise prioritize them.

But interests and innocence and kindness and seeking affection were bad. They were bad and would get him, and thusly Sans, killed. Loving and being happy and showing positive feelings are bad and so, inevitably, when faced with understanding he could be loved just because, he doesn’t understand why. What is there to love about someone who just is for whatever reason he needs to be?

False confidence was one key to surviving, part of his facade, but if asked why, he’d only be able to insist he is admired and respected for technical attributes. His strength, his status, his ability to protect, his loyalty, his intelligence, his ingenuity. The things that make him able to serve his purposes. He doesn’t consider the fact Sans is endlessly inspired by how immutable his kindness is. He doesn’t consider the fact Undyne thinks he’s hilarious and similarly admires his commitment to helping others. He doesn’t consider the guards might actually be loyal to him because they trust him not because of his status or power but because he’s always looked out for them, even when their own king would not.

He is incapable of seeing himself as an entire monster, and thusly incapable of understanding others can. That they could like, even love him, for every facet, not just the ones he wears proudly, pinned to his chest, a painstakingly crafted mask designed to earn approval. Maybe, maybe he might learn how to take it off, on purpose, and be able to see himself in the reflection. But I think it’d take a very, very long time.

[tigreblvnc]

JJK MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @frostfall-matches

Your match is...

— Toji Fushiguro

Given your penchant for independence, Toji is an interesting match since he shares this trait. Indeed, I am convinced that he is the type to disappear for days without explanation, but you probably wouldn't need any since you understand how he operates. He is like that, a wild creature that can never really be tamed. And this works to your advantage as you also cherish your moments of solitude and those where you can engage in your own passions.

However, this doesn't mean that you don't share any moments together, far from it.

As an INTJ, you likely have a tendency to think deeply and frequently travel within your inner world. This is a common point you both share and balance wonderfully since, from Toji’s side, as an ISTP, he is likely to spend just as much time in his inner world to process and organize data from the tangible world, whereas you would tend to do so for the abstract world. You are capable of pulling each other back when one of you gets too lost in your own universe.

With Toji being confident and bold in his approach, he compensates for his lack of cursed energy with his knowledge and manages to outsmart even the greatest jujutsu sorcerers. You wouldn’t have to worry much about his reliability since he is capable of handling situations where many others would fail. Situations where others would not even dare to try.

I think Toji could bring you that taste for risk and the drive to overcome challenges. While you excel at carefully maturing your strategy before taking action, he has that spark of bold improvisation that allows him to break through even the strongest defenses.

It's a relationship without significant imbalance; you provide each other with what the other lacks. You don’t need to worry about each other since you both know you’re smart enough to handle the most complex situations without needing anyone’s help. This is probably what has contributed to creating a strong bond of respect between you. You are not dependent on anyone.

If I had to mention a potential point of friction in your relationship, it would be the moment to make a choice in a perilous situation: do we stick to the classic and safe way, or do we try the new and bold approach?

You might disagree on stuff like this, and maybe with his way of making money too. But you would still respect it because it's the path Toji has chosen. Just as he is capable of respecting your choices and way of being.

And you, who love dad jokes, would certainly enjoy this relationship. Little heavy jokes thrown around that make you roll your eyes, but you still chuckle because only he can do that. Even in the most inappropriate moments, with the people least likely to appreciate such humor, he doesn't hold back. And it’s this disregard for the status of the person in front of him that won you over. He doesn’t care about pleasing others; he remains himself no matter what. Oh, but isn’t that a characteristic you share as well?

I'm sure that your very direct and straightforward nature, knowing what you want, is what charmed him a lot. Just as your ability to confront authority does. For him, being capable of that was essential to emancipate from the Zenin. He sees a lot of himself in this trait and tends to admire it in you.

I also like to think that your small stature might be a detail that hits home with Toji, given that the man is 1.88 meters tall, there’s a good chance he would take advantage of his broad build to steal some affectionate moments. It’s rather fortunate that your love language is physical touch since he is most willing to provide it. From his side, I think receiving attentions that show you’re attentive to details, that nothing escapes you, could touch him a lot, even if he wouldn’t show it physically. To me, Toji is a man whose affection shows more in actions than in words.

He would also take you to the pub for horse racing bets and would probably tend to choose by instinct, whereas you would carefully analyze each horse's race to deduce which one would most likely reach the finish line first. Not sure if Toji would particularly pay attention, but it would probably make him smile to see that even for something as simple as a game, you’re capable of deploying all your knowledge to understand how it works.

That leads me to think that you could share many little moments of complicity like that. Whether it’s a tour around the city, looking for a place to eat. When he’s not on a mission, I like to think Toji is a laid-back and rather open guy with whom you can have great relaxing moments. I don’t see him as someone who likes to overthink or talk about trivial things, but he would love to hear you talk about your interests and maybe even want to participate. Not necessarily to become a pro, but to discover your passions and who you are, all in a relaxed atmosphere where you joke together. By the way; I'm convinced that he would love to taste your pastries. I think those are the warmest moments between you, where you can chat lightly and enjoy the simple things in life.

Speaking of simple things, I can really see you going on a road trip for a few days, hiking in the mountains or camping in the forest. Putting your respective knowledge to the test to survive in nature. Toji would handle the more practical aspects (I can totally see him hunting, making a fire, creating a shelter, and such), while you would be particularly effective at planning and sorting your resources, making thoughtful choices and ensuring that the path taken is the quickest.

Glad that my first matchup ever was with you :)

A word about your match: my first thought was of course for Geto. But then I saw that you'd already been matched with him several times (which I totally understand), and as you've gathered, I like to do things in unexpected ways… I hope you enjoyed it…

[tired-biscuit]

Ever think about kibas dad? How he ran away from the clan bc his mom scared him off? When did that man leave? No father figure now he gotta be the most macho man ever.

i love this ask, thank you for sending it. my thoughts are under the cut, i hope you don’t mind the headcanons i’ve come up with!!

yeah, i actually have already written about kiba’s feelings revolving around his dad’s absence in a fic of mine that i finished last year.

i like to think that not having a father figure around would have bothered him mostly in his childhood years, when he’s still young enough that he lives at home and is still sort of figuring out how to find himself; especially if you consider the fact that he’s the only man left in the house as a result.

to me, kiba strikes me as a ‘stereotypical’ boy. he likes ‘manly’ things and he wants to do ‘manly’ stuff and have ‘manly’ hobbies, if you get what i mean?

he wants to go fishing, and wants to learn how to be the one that fixes things around the house without having to ask for help. he wants to learn how to shave without cutting his cheek every single time, and to go camping in the wilderness, and to just be able to understand this entirely male side of him (both mentally and physically) that his mom and sister can’t really help him deal with sometimes, because they can’t really relate with it first hand, even if they do try to understand it better for his sake.

being the only boy in a women-only household, he wants his masculinity to stand out. consequently, he wants his dad to be his hero and his role model and whatnot, not his mom, just because he’s still young and he relates more to his old man at that time (even though the only thing they have in common is that they’re the same gender.)

it’s an outright silly way of thinking if you ask me, perhaps even old fashioned to some degree, but you can’t really blame him, he’s practically still just a kid. and luckily for him, he loses that mentality by the time he reaches adulthood, or at best when he hits the end of puberty.

i think that’s also the time when he starts to cherish his mom more and all that she does for him. he also lands on common ground with his sister, now that he’s more mature and understands her better.

but yeah, i do think kid kiba has always had this amazing image of his dad set in his head even though the fact that he went completely AWOL on him disappoints him more than he tends to admit. after all, loyalty is a trait that he respects the most in a person because he’s immensely loyal himself. he doesn’t just ‘give up’ when things get bad — it’s literally not in his blood. and the fact that he shares said blood with someone who’s a ‘coward’ in his eyes so to speak, repulses him greatly by the time he’s grown into a man.

though by saying that he doesn’t relent, i don’t mean that he’d be pushy for his parents to stay together even if it just wouldn’t work between them, of course. sure, kiba’s stubborn like a bull and is incredibly determined (sometimes overwhelmingly so), but he’s also intuitive and surprisingly emotionally smart. he can read the room (he’s just blunt and honest to the point that he comes across as mean and inconsiderate in most situations, and even then it’s done purely by choice), so imo, he could have handled his parents getting divorced completely fine at the end of the day.

so yeah, he doesn’t mind having divorced parents. the problem that he has with his father isn’t that he left, per se, it’s rather the way he left that bothers him. that he just… picked up his stuff and ran as far as his feet were willing to carry him instead of being direct and sorting it out bravely like most inuzuka tend to do, ya know? it shatters that perfect, strong, courageous image that he’s always painted of his dad, who is of course; a man, much like he is himself and he definitely does not want to represent cowardice!

but at the end of the day, he’s got his mom and his sister who he’s super close with now. and while he does seem to be pretty content with that by the time he’s older, that entire comment he made in shippuden made it seem like he is (or at least used to be) upset/disappointed by his dad pulling the ‘i’m just going to the store to get some milk, brb’ move on him and his sibling, which is to be expected of course..….…..

if anything else, i think besides the bitter feelings, the absence of a father figure would give him the motivation and mental push to strive to be the best one he could be for his own children, if he had any. it’s definitely a coping mechanism that i see working well with his personality.

and btw, that doesn’t mean that tsume didn’t do a great job at raising both him and hana or that he doesn’t love his mom to bits. she’s the type of woman to obtain both parental figures and absolutely rocks them whilst doing so. truly a badass mom!!

also, i will always stand by the fact that kiba eventually grew into the role of becoming a momma’s boy one way or another.

[l0stn3v3rf0und]

TMNT: ELEMENTAL MADNESS AU - RAPHAEL

Raphael

Nicknames: Raph, The Big R, Red, Raphie, Raph-a-lot, Phoenix

Role: The Brawn

17 years old

Personality

Overprotective

Quick-tempered

Brash (self-assertive in a rude, noisy, or overbearing way)

Instinctive (relating to or prompted by instinct; unconscious or automatic)

Loyal

Charismatic

Boastful

Confident

Likes: Wrestling, Animals, His brothers, Being a hero

Dislikes: Winter, Bugs, Oddly quiet places, Bad people

Fears: Hurting others

Weapon: Axe

Element: Fire

Powers include: Pyrokinesis, Explosion, and Volcanic Body

Fun facts! (Again again more random stuff)

“HAVE NO FEAR! THE HERO IS HERE!!”

VERY LOUD. Can this guy shut up please I swear to go

Thinks he is the ultimate hero and will not be afraid to show it

Wants to save anyone who breathes, even if they don’t need help

Needs to be seen as a positive influence or he will literally die inside

Afraid that his powers will hurt his brothers or others so he tries to use them for good

HUUUGE savior complex

He doesn’t have much knowledge about the human world, but he is still very smart!

He thinks he isn’t a good brother, so he often overworks himself to be that role

He was very loyal to The FOOT.

Betrayed by them and left to die after finding out their true intentions

Lore

Raphael was born first. Making him the oldest.

When he got his powers at 5 years old, they were too much to handle and it often hurt other people.

Because of this, Raph avoided touching anyone with fear of hurting them in mind.

When he was 6, Raph wanted to be his younger brothers’ hero. So he did his best to protect his brothers.

When the family was evacuated from their planet when he was 7, Raphael was still overprotective with his family, he would often be attached to their side at all times.

When the ship got attacked however, he was separated from his family again and landed in Russia.

He was often treated like some sort of monster, so when he was found by TCRI they wanted to make him a killing machine.

For 4 years, Raph suffered and believed that he was a monster.

When he was 11, the TCRI building he was held in was destroyed by The FOOT.

He was eventually discovered in the rubble by Baron Draxum and was brought back to headquarters.

The three leaders decided to take him in and made him a strong warrior “hero” , naming him “Phoenix”

Despite the harsh training and the pressure he was faced, Raphael was devoted to The FOOT, since for once in his life he wasn’t treated like a monster.

For 7 years, he was given many tasks, most of them was used as a secret weapon to attack enemies if they dared attempt to fight back against The FOOT. Raph didn’t know this, and thought he was squashing bad guys like a hero would.

Sadly, when he was 17, it was discovered that he was only being used for his strong abilities and strength and not for him as a person. When he was deemed not strong enough, he was abandoned and left to die.

However, he was discovered once again by a family of 4. Instead of being used for his strength, he wasn’t used for anything. He was only needed for just him. Just Raphael.

VA Head canon: Knuckles (Sonic 2)

References

Masterpost

[rfxiii]

90’s to Ludendorff era Brad (and Trevor) Headcanons

First things first, Brad is dumb; but I don’t think he’s as dumb as Michael and Lester like to believe he is. I think he’s probably uneducated though- like maybe an 8th grade education, where he dropped out of school around fourteen. Trevor mentions to Lester that in the letters “Brad” (Davey, who’s obviously more intelligent than Brad would have been) has educated himself in prison and isn’t like he was before. Meaning Brad’s way of speaking and intelligence level was different enough from Norton’s in a way that Trevor assumes he must have been attempting to further his education while in prison. So, he’s not stupid, but education wise, he’s lacking.

I don’t know if there’s anything he did before meeting Trevor that’s canon- but I imagine he lived a totally normal life before meeting him; probably in his early to mid-twenties. They probably met by chance and Trevor, as he does, latched onto Brad as a surrogate for Michael’s attention, as Michael had gotten married and Tracey was about to be born, or had just been born, at that point; putting a strain on Trevor and Michael’s relationship.

Since I do imagine he doesn’t have much of an education, I think Brad probably worked someplace like a warehouse, in construction, contracting, or maybe in an auto garage. Just some kind of job that requires hands on and technical skills but not a lot of book smarts.

He’s crazy strong- probably from whatever physical labor type of job he had before meeting Trevor.

Brad caught Trevor’s attention first, but Brad was the one who kept hanging around and coming back- having grown absolutely enthralled with Trevor’s way of life and how fucking crazy he was- until they became close friends and decided to stick together.

Brad and Trevor probably lived together at some point. Maybe not for a long time, and nothing really happened to cause them not to live together anymore, they just moved around so frequently pulling scores that they moved out one day and never moved back in with each other.

Michael is a little older than Brad, maybe just a few years. Regardless, after hearing all of Trevor’s stories about Michael, and then meeting him in person, Brad looked up to Michael a lot in the first couple of years they knew each other.

The first job Trevor ever took Brad on wasn’t even planned. Or, at least, Brad didn’t know there was a plan. Trevor took them to some little, 24 hour liquor store on the edge of a small town, pulled in, handed Brad a mask and a gun, and told him to follow his lead. Brad, of course, was secretly scared shitless- but he didn’t say anything or argue because he wanted to impress Trevor.

While he’s not stupid, Brad heavily lacks critical thinking skills. He’s put metal in a microwave, accidentally flashed his gun in front of a cop, considered putting a fork in a toaster to unstick toast before Michael stopped him, lit a cigarette at the gas pump, etc.

He’d only ever smoked weed and drank before meeting Trevor. But, by the time the events of Ludendorff rolled around, he’d gotten hooked on coke, heroin, and meth.

He genuinely cared for Trevor, did a lot of what he did in an effort to impress him, and considered him one of his best friends.

He beat a guy to death with his bare hands in a bar parking lot once. Trevor thought it was cool as hell. But it was honestly really unsettling to Michael, and was the defining moment for Michael realizing that both Brad and Trevor were totally out of control at that point.

Was a terrible driver, like, absolute shit. Michael suggested they use him as a getaway driver on the first score all three of them pulled together- just to get a feel for how he’d handle himself. It went terribly and they almost got caught. He wasn’t allowed to drive again after that.

Got his ass kicked by a stripper once. He and Trevor stopped by a strip club in a town they were staying at and he took her back to their motel and slept with her. They came back the next night, she wasn’t there, so he slept with two of her friends. And when he and Trevor came back the third night, she was working again, had heard that he’d slept with her friends, got pissed off, and smacked the shit out of him in the parking lot. She broke his nose and gave him a black eye- he and Trevor laughed about it all the way to the next strip joint they’d decided to head to.