#so I’m way more concerned abt functionality over form

[badolmen]

I’ve been building some abandoned villager houses for my slime barrens and uh. Not gonna lie I think they’re coming out really well.

[tyquu]

Here's the Ben whump rant i talked abt in my last post,,,

Ofc heed the triggers and what not: Blood, injury, ect ect

Also take everything here with a serious handful of salt, im being dramatic as heck. So if you don't wanna see me get serious abt something that's not that deep, this probably isn't the rant for you <3

Anywho...

Do you ever think about just how often Ben gets the absolute crap beat out of him? Like in Grudge Match, I forgot how many times he gets flung about in his human form. He's ten years old, his bones are way too weak for all that. The amount of head injuries he must get is insane, and Max never once seems to take Ben's injuries seriously. 

Like that time Ben gets sick after sitting in the back of an ice cream van for like,, twenty minutes. He's ill to the point it's actively inhibiting his ability to play hero, blinding wildmutt with gunked up sensors and taking the heat out of heatblast. He's pale and sniffly and looks like shit, but Max still makes the executive decision to drag him out on errands instead of giving him time to rest. 

Also just cause he takes the majority of damage in his alien forms doesn’t mean those injuries suddenly have no impact at all. I think in alien force they were toying with idea of his injuries carrying over becoming more of a problem for him, with his busted knee in season one, and black eye in the episode where he gets grounded. Either way, it’s still implied that wounds translate over after he de-transforms, even if to a lesser extent. Not to mention all the scrapes and little injuries he must get from de-transforming mid battle (on the occasions he does).

FUCK, I mean Ben actually displays short term memory loss as a direct result of getting hit in the head in alien force, and Gwen isn't concerned about it probably because she grew up with Grandpa Max not being concerned about it. She doesn't realise just how dangerous this level of head injury is, what the brain inflammation and possible bleeding could do to him. She's probably looked him in the eyes, with his pupils blown wide, dazed and confused about his whereabouts, and then buried her concern because it's nothing new right? Ben's been dealing with stuff like this since he was 10, and Max, the ever responsible adult, never shows the appropriate amount of concern for it, so it makes sense that both Gwen and Ben don’t consider these things serious until its too late. 

Like not to get all dramatic about this and over think it (more so than I already am lol) but I’m positive this stuff would have long term consequences for Ben’s health as he enters adult hood, or even before then. Trouble recalling things, ringing in his ears, migraines and headaches as well a light sensitivity, all of these are symptoms of repeated and serious head trauma. Not to mention, paired with my personal headcanons about the burning chemical sensation of having the omnitrix fused to his flesh, leaking fluid into his bloodstream and scorching his skin. Or the chronic nosebleeds I think he would have as a result of all these other health complications. There's just a LOT that can be done with Ben whump, and I’m surprised it isn’t talked about/thought about more? 

Folks love the idea of Ben being functionally immortal (at least from injury related death), and the power fantasy that comes with being the weilder of the omnitrix, but what about the fact that he’s just some guy?? That the omnitrix failsafe doesn’t protect him from everything, and that if the injuries are bad enough to have triggered the failsafe in the first place, then where does that leave him in terms of recovering from them??? Sorry, sorry, crazy moment. 

[nexyra]

What is your take on rwby chara's mbti types? I think

Weiss - xSTJ, thought that she was ESTJ at first but ISTJ makes a lot of sense too.

Winter - ESTJ

Pyrrha - ESFJ

Emerald - ISFJ (I've seen some ppl type her as INFJ but I don't see how she is a Ni dom?)

Whitley - ENTJ? I'm honestly not sure abt that..

Adam - fucked up xNFJ, probably INFJ (seen him typed as xNTJ but his delusional thinking process imo screams unhealthy Ti and I think his manipulation of Blake and the WF is more Fe than Te

Qrow - was thinking ISTP but with the more recent volumes I'm really not sure..

Penny - ENFP

Ozpin - Uuuuuh INTP maybe?? But I've seen some people type him as INFJ. INFJ 5w6 would make sense as to why he might appear as an INTP but idk..

Bartholomew- ENTP

Jaune - no fucking idea honestly

Ironwood - ENTJ

Sun - Seen ppl type him as ENFP but I don't see any Ne at all..,,ESFP?

Yang - ESxP, maybe ESTP

Cinder - INTJ

Mercury - ISTP

Oscar - ISFJ

Ren - ISTx?

Hello anon ! I see my love for typology hasn't gone unnoticed 😂 Thank you so much for the ask !

I prefer enneagram over MBTI because I find it easier to type; so fair warning that I'm not an authority on MBTI-typing. But I do have have an ongoing RWBY typing that includes MBTI sooo... here goes !

(I'm putting my ennea typings along with it, but not explaining them on this post)

➸ RWBYJNPR

Ruby • xNFP 6w7 9w1 2w3?

I just can't decide between the two fors Ruby because... it kind of goes both way ??? Like Ruby definitely feels as INFP for the first half of the series; she's got a clear Fi > Ne preference... But then when she develops her Tert in V6 it's just... Te ? And she really doesn't show much Si actually she fits more the Si inf vibe in the form of forgetting about bad memories and her mom until people dig it up and she's like "nooo !" ?? So it looks like Te > Si but also Fi > Ne; conclusion idfk

Weiss • ISTJ 1w2 6w5 3w4 sp/so

Clear Fi tert rearing its head along with the 1 so I'm going with ISTJ; I also never really saw any Ne. Her type isn't too disagreed upon so tell me if you want a lenghtier explanation.

Blake • ISFP 6w5 9w8 4w3 (in some order)

Wooh this might get the anger of some (i have experience with the INFJ typers) but Blake goddamn REEKS of Fi. Less so recently but for the first seasons oh my god. She straights up catch you by the shirt and tells you "I'm doing the right thing"; and said right thing is so heavily dependant on her own subjectives values, which is why Blake can't reconcile with the current White Fang; because she doesn't have a strong Je vision of "what objectively works in the end", she only sees actions in terms of immediate right and wrong, and this b&w dichotomy stems from herself. What the WF is doing is wrong and the circumstances don't matter for judging the morality of their actions (of course I'm not talking about murder here bc that's pretty wrong ALL THE TIME but for example the stealing occuring in V1 bc of the WF is a better example)

Yang • ESXP 7w8 8w7 2w3

I'm sorry about that but I can't help you on that aspect anon, I still can't make up my mind about whether Yang has Fi or Ti. I have seen arguments for both, and i'm not the best at picking up on Ti so it's hard for me to tell.

Jaune • ESFJ 6w7 3w2 9w1

No strong opinions on his MBTI, it's kinda just based on vibes

Nora • ENFP 6w7 9w8 3w2

Textbook ENFP, not much to say here x))

Pyrrha • XXFJ 2w1 1w2 6?

In my list Pyrrha is currently written down as ISFJ but that's mostly based on the general consensus and me wanting to get rid of the XX. I don't actually have any convincing arguments to decide on Ni or Si, so I could go either way if someone else makes their case well. I feel like she's Fe aux more than dom, but even about that I could change my mind. Pyrrha didn't have that much screentime in the end :((

Ren • ISTJ? 9w1 5w4 4w5

Ironically I'm not sure about his type, kind of like you. I've mentionned I'm not very good at picking up on Ti right ? And Ren was a background character before V4 really. I had him written down as ISTP for a while but I've seen some convincing arguments for ISTJ so I might lean toward that actually but who knows. The thing I'm very confident about is his 5 fix = )

➸ Faunus bonus

Sun • ESFP 7w6 2w3 9w1 so/sx

I don't see any Ne at all either so I don't understand the ENFP typings...?? Maybe the 7 stereotypes ? Imo Sun is just a very good boy; certified ESFP 7 himbo; triple positive sunshine !

Ilia • Ti-Fe axis ?

Again, not enough screentime for me to make an educated guess. My only certainty is : not high Fi. It's the source of their conflicts. Blake confidence in absolute right & wrong, tracing lines in the sand between acceptable & unacceptable. Whereas Ilia can only shake her head and say "Because it works", or cry out "I don't know what else to do !"

Adam • 3w4 8w7 6w5

I honestly don't really have much of an opinion about Adam's MBTI, i'm sorry anon ;; I don't know enough about how he thinks

➸ Oz-related things and his circle

Ozpin • INFJ 5w4 2w1 1w9

I would personally call him an INFJ. I... never really got INTP vibes from him ? I don't see the Fe inf work out with his interactions : he's always rather at ease, he knows how to navigate around people... His focus inherently lies on doing what's best for the "group", the people, humanity. Fx functions are both concerned with ethics, in different ways, and I think Oz reflects that well. He IS concerned with the moral weight of his actions, but it's a more adaptable and unpersonnal concern than Fi people. He regards Ironwood's soul machines as something wrong, but can still agree to use it if the situations demand it for example. So... if the INFJ + 5 makes sense to you, well that's what I'm typing him personally. I also feel like Ni fits him more than Ne. Ozpin has a very linear way of planning, he does use his fair share of symbolism in every day conversation... Even when taking decisions, he... kind of cares about the meaning of things a lot ? It's hard to explain but like; the way he highlights the difference between an army and a guardian, and the emotionnal response it brings. I don't know it feels like there's some Ni vibes in there x)

Oscar • ISFJ 9w8 6w7 3w2

Oscar's type honestly isn't the one I would have the easiest time explaining in lenght but yea. It's mostly vibes; also just like Ozpin he doesn't seem to have a particularly Fi reasonning. And he feels more grounded, I don't really remember any Ni so... yay ?

Ironwood • ENFJ 6w5 1w2 3w4 (pre-Vol8); ENTJ (post-Vol8)

Might be weird if you think he was a dictator from the start, but I kind of entertained the idea of Ironwood being Fe dom ? From his very first interaction it was very clear that he was a Je dom to me; he's all about objective results; he doesn't give off the "internal framework" or "personnal values" vibe AT ALL; so it was more a matter of picking Te or Fe. He LOOKS super Te don't get me wrong; but he also has an enneagram tritype that is very common amongst XXTJs (and TJs stereotypes thus derive from it). And just like Oz, his focus at all time seemed to be the greater good and doing what's best for the people still. So I was like... Eh, a "harsh" ENFJ I think that's interesting ? Plus Fe ethics actually derive from their environment, kinda like "everyone agrees that Y is wrong", and if you consider that James is from Atlas... Well his way of thinking and ethics align pretty well with the military.

His character took a turn for the worse in V8 (whether too quick or not depends on who you ask) and past that point he's a clear ENTJ; but I feel like it was more debatable before that. Idk though I might be overthinking this in the hope of making more interesting combinations xD

Qrow • ISTP 4w3 6w7? 1w9? sp/sx

I don't really see anything else than ISTP for Qrow... But he's not a character I would want to find Ti arguments for either.

Raven • ENTJ Cp6w5 8w9 3w4

Most villains get called ENTJ at the first occasions tbh zlqfznhqzkf but I think it fits Raven for the most part actually...

➸ Atlas

Winter • ESTJ 1w9 3w4 6w5

The whole Schnee family has the same enneagram tritype in different order/different wings, it's ridiculous I think she has a higher Te than Weiss, and Fi inf fits her more. She struggles more to reconcile with her emotions and the idea of a personal right/wrong than her little sis.

Penny • ENFP 4w3 6w7 9w1 sx/so

Perfect example of a healthy 4, she's a great friend a cutie pie. ... Sorry we were talking about MBTI x) Well again, textbook ENFP. Not much to debate here.

Whitley • 3w4 1w9 6w5?

Not enough material for me to guess a MBTI type correctly either, sorry... I could see some kind of xNTJ yea but it's really just vibes and not enough concrete.

➸ Antagonists and Extras

Cinder • 8w7 3w4 6w5

Never cared to guess her MBTI type. I hereby type her as insufferable qkfqskfq. More seriously, I don't really know sorry Anon :/

Emerald • 2w3 ?w? ?w?

I never got Fe vibes from her tbh, I just think she's a 2. And Fe as a function is very infused with 2 stereotypes. So yea. Like, she isn't even that worried about the morality of her actions or anything more than the other villains. She just cares more about her personal relationships and being loved, so she automatically looks much nicer, especially with 2 mechanisms of trying to make herself useful and needed. Also because she's surrounded by 8-ish people xD

Mercury • 8w9 7w8 ?w?

ISTP doesn't sound too farfeteched, but I never MBTI-typed him either, sorry.

+

Bartholomew Oobleck • xSxJ 5w4

The only vibe he gave me is Si somewhere because of all his talks about learning from the past and everything repeats itself and it's a mine of informations at Mountain Glen... That's really the only time I tried to put down anything for him, and it was Si + 5. He could be some kind of xNTP nerd too for sure, but that's more vibe and I couldn't make an actual argument for it.

[sparxwrites]

dude loved the dsmp fic u did with technoblade and quackity. The second part of the series where quackitys trauma with schlatt came up in the most unexpected way near the end- cool af. if u ever have time and the desire I'm sure many other people would love to see more dream smp stuff from u 💜💜😳💜💜!!! I'm so curious what made u think of such a raw scene b/een Q and techno in the aftermath of the butcher army execution in the first part

okay, so- context for this is that i wrote the redux because a friend threatened promised to actually fuckin pay me to watch techno's pov of the execution, and to write an alternate version where techno's braid got cut off. i genuinely enjoyed the video, ended up doing the fic for funsies and writing a lot more than intended, and got brainworms about doing a sequel.

however. that meant that basically i was working on a) two hours of footage, mainly of techno, and b) snippets i had picked up from fanart, animatics etc. for characterisation. so i wrote 2k of relatively generic "bully asshole guy dubcons woobie asshole guy into sex that he totally definitely doesn't want but kind of secretly does", because that's a solid chunk of my brand, just as a "haha smutty fic machine go brrr" kind of thing.

and then i actually watched some more content. and went, oh, whoops, hmm, this Absolutely Doesn't Work At All with the actual characterisation of these two.

because techno is an asshole, but he's a joy-of-the-hunt, intimidating-you-is-kind-of-funny asshole, not a sleazy dubcon asshole. and because quackity is... i was going to say "the complete opposite of a woobie", but actually he's kind of a woobie in function (victimised constantly), but the diametric opposite of one in form (responds by attempting to take chunks out of anyone that so much as looks at him kindly, as opposed to weeping in a corner somewhere).

so then i had 1k+ of smut machine go brr (i had written up to abt the first time techno pulls out, i think), and a suddenly really interesting character dynamic that didn't really work with the plot i'd had in mind. which is probably why it ended up so "raw", as you put it - because the only way out of the corner i'd written myself into, without discarding the whole thing, was to lean into how bad this would end up being for both parties involved. so it became instead techno throwing his weight around as an intimidation tactic (death is relatively cheap in minecraft; as far as he's concerned, if quackity really really didn't want this, he'd have taken the loss of inventory and opted for a quick kill/respawn) and ending up in over his head/doing something he wouldn't normally do but wasn't overly concerned about; and quackity acquiescing because schlatt (whilst mostly never outright "pin you down as you beg me to stop") was extremely bad at taking no for an answer, and so he got used to just taking whatever he was given because he'd otherwise be called a pussy for it and/or ground down until he agreed.

which is why everything falls apart at the end, and the dynamic flips - the minute techno realises this isn't hatesex-ish with quackity being a bitter mouthy shit as usual, he's like "uhhh Nope Nope Nope" and wants to get the fuck out of there asap, because sexual assault is really not part of his whole "good clean kill, joy of the hunt" thing. except quackity, laden down with trauma about this kind of shit and probably dissociating out of his fucking skull/in the middle of a flashback, interprets this as "he thinks i can't take it", and is absolutely desperately trying to avoid the verbal abuse and humiliation he associates with not being """strong enough""" to take whatever abuse his partner wants to dish out prove he's a big boy and doesn't need to be coddled.

so! that's how i accidentally ended up with plot and/or actual emotions in what was meant to be some fun, dubiously-consensual porn lmao. and now i'm slightly obsessed w this dynamic between quackity and techno, and the potential follow-through of them dealing with the fallout from it. watch this space maybe??? or don't, because i'm bad at following through on writing stuff, but we'll see.

(and thank u for the compliments as well! glad u liked the fics :3c more fucked up nonsense with quackity to come shortly, i promise~)

[a-sirens-melody]

Darkwing Duck’s Greatest Enemy: Type 1 Diabetes (And Definitely Not Self Loathing)

Quick author's note: Launchpad switches between he/they throughout the fic, just so no one gets confused! If you have any questions abt diabetes, feel free to ask me. With that said, enjoy!

***

So far, tonight has gone really well.

It's date night, and this time they're spending it eating takeout from Hamburger Hippo and watching Darkwing Duck at Launchpad's place. Wrappers lay on the floor, ignored in favor of watching Darkwing kick Megavolt’s ass on screen.

Drake is currently leaning into Launchpad's side on the couch, his partner’s arm wrapped around his waist. It all feels so cozy and domestic that he never wants it to end.

And then, because Drake must have seriously pissed off some powerful being in a past life, it happens.

Megavolt’s face becomes blurry, and it's a little harder to focus on the TV. A quick look around the room tells him that, actually, it's hard to focus on anything right now. He knows what this means; he's gotten better at picking up on the signs after twenty-eight years of living with a half-functioning pancreas.

His blood sugar’s starting to drop.

He tries to close his eyes and listen instead, but the shake of his hands quickly corrects him. He is dropping and he needs to find something to eat. Even though he just ate, like, an hour ago.

Dammit.

“Drake?”

He opens his eyes and notices that the episode is paused. He hadn't even realized, he was so caught up in his symptoms. The second thing he notices is Launchpad looking right at him.

He guesses that they felt his shaking because there's concern in their eyes now. A brief wave of guilt sweeps over him and he almost misses their question. “Is your blood sugar low?”

He finds it's a little hard to form words right now (and that scares him, it always does), so he nods his head slightly and hums.

“I'm gonna go get you a juice box.”

The arm wrapped around him vanishes as LP gets up. He helps him lay down on the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. He's still cold without his boyfriend, though, so Drake can't help the small whine that escapes him. God, he sounds pathetic.

Launchpad's eyes soften and they lean down to kiss his forehead. “I'll be right back, okay?”

A little embarrassed, Drake nods and watches the other duck head to his fridge. He closes his eyes again and almost sighs in relief as he's met with darkness. You can't lose your focus if there's nothing to focus on in the first place.

Did that even make sense? Whatever. His brain’s not working properly right now.

The sounds of his partner rummaging through the shelves fill the air. Drake is reminded of earlier when things felt so domestic between them. It's only been a couple of months since they started dating, but Launchpad already feels like the home he never had.

Drake doesn't know how he got so lucky; sometimes it all feels like a dream.

Launchpad leaving is his worst nightmare. He knows he's being a little dramatic, but his anxiety gets the better of him sometimes. He's too much, too expensive, too-

“Found it!” Footsteps pull Drake out of his thoughts and he cracks his eyes open. Launchpad already tore off the wrapping on the plastic straw and stuck it in the box. He holds it out now and places it near Drake's beak. “Drink this, okay?”

He moves the straw into his mouth with a hum and starts sucking the juice down, only stunned for a second at the chill. Fruit punch, his mind distantly informs him. It's his favorite flavor, but he's too focused on getting it into his system to really appreciate it right now.

When the juice box is thoroughly drained, he gives his boyfriend a small smile. He feels like he can talk without sounding like he's drunk now, so he says, “thanks, LP.”

“Anytime,” is the warm reply he receives. If Drake was of sound mind, he would kiss Launchpad breathless and maybe, maybe, utter those three little words that have grown harder to ignore as of late.

I love you.

The words are barely on the tip of his tongue even now. Yikes, his filter's pretty weak already. He tries to stuff the words down by chewing on the straw. Struggling with one of the disadvantages of diabetes is not his ideal confession scenario. Besides, it's way too soon to say that. Right? Right.

“Didn't think you kept juice boxes in your fridge,” he says instead. Not only is he trying to distract himself from his low brain feelings, he's genuinely curious. He doesn't recall seeing any juice boxes in LP’s fridge the last time he was here, and their favorite flavor is apple.

“Nah. Not for myself, at least.” They smile fondly at him. “I remembered that it's your favorite flavor, though, and I wanted to have something for whenever you went low over here.”

Wait.

Launchpad bought those for him? Specifically for him? And remembered his favorite flavor from a conversation they had three months ago when they asked Drake what he usually ate when his blood sugar went low?

That's...

“That's really sweet of you, LP. Thanks.” He says, because he's not really sure what to say. It's such a small act of kindness, something he's not used to, and he doesn't know how to deal with the sudden warmth in his chest.

He's too low for this. Feeling more intense emotions is a very frequent symptom of his when he's low, that's what this is. Yeah. Definitely.

His boyfriend's smile turns shy. “You don't have to thank me. Whatever helps you the most. Speaking of which, do you want me to bring your kit over here? I mean, obviously you feel low, but. Better to have an exact number, right?” Launchpad rambles, hand reaching to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

That's a good point, actually. He has to be in the 40’s if he's feeling this bad. “Yes, please.”

Launchpad reaches to the side of his couch where Drake's bag is. Inside is his blood sugar kit (complete with a pricker, replaceable barrels, meter, test strips, insulin, and syringes), various small snacks in case he goes low when he's out, and a glucagon. He really hopes that last item is not going to be needed tonight.

He probably shouldn't have dropped the bag there, but he wanted to start their date. Can you really blame him?

The kit is found and placed onto the couch. Drake starts to reach for it, but suddenly there's a hand covering his.

“Can I check you, please?” He looks up and finds Launchpad staring at him. “I don't- if you don't want me to touch your stuff, I get it, but. You feel bad. So will you let me do it?”

You...want to help me? You don't want me to do this on my own?

“Sure. Just ask if you dunno what goes where, okay?” Drake says, thankful that his voice is somewhat steadier than his hands.

His partner nods and gets to work. They asked once how everything in the kit worked so Drake laid it all out and taught him. It felt nice having someone who wanted to listen to him talk about diabetes stuff.

He hears the test strip bottle close with a pop and the pricker calibrate with a ca-click. Just as Launchpad asks, he holds out a finger and lets his mind drift.

It's really not something he's used to, having someone around that he trusts will take care of him. For as long as he can remember, Drake could only rely on himself to get through whatever diabetic crisis he faced.

He was eight when he was diagnosed. At first, his parents did most of the hard work. He picked up on checking his blood sugar pretty quickly, but they would manage all his carb ratios and injections.

Then, they just sort of…stopped. Like they had only done it for him in the first place because he was too young to fully understand. By the time he was thirteen, he did pretty much everything on his own. So much so that more often than not on the tri-monthly visits to his endocrinologist, the car ride would be spent drilling his parents on what the past three months had been like.

Not that they ever told him they didn't care or want to care to his face. No, Drake had just picked up on it. But the night he overheard them talking about medical expenses was a particularly rude awakening.

He couldn't sleep for some reason and decided to watch some Darkwing Duck. He barely made it out of his bedroom when he heard voices.

“Why's everything gotta be so damn expensive!?”

Ah. His dad was looking at bills. So much for a DW marathon in peace and quiet. Drake had one foot back in his bedroom when he heard his mother reply.

“It doesn't really help that our current bank account looks like that, either…”

Forget going back to bed, his curiosity was peaked. He stayed still, straining to hear.

He wished he hadn't at what he heard next.

“Yeah, well, having a defective kid ain't cheap. Why couldn't you have had a normal one?”

To this day, he still remembers how his heart sank to his stomach.

Defective.

Defective.

Is that why they stopped helping? Why, at age sixteen, it was unspoken knowledge that Drake managed everything on his own? They didn't see a literal child in need, they saw a column of dollar signs. A black hole that sucked up all their cash and never gave it back.

His mom stayed quiet, and that hurt even more. She didn't care, either. Neither one of them did.

They were both selfish assholes that only cared about the alcohol they could've had stocked in their kitchen.

He cried himself to sleep that night, mourning the days when he could still trust his parents to take care of him and wishing he didn't have to live like this. If no one wanted to help him, he’d suck it up on his own. No one wanted to take care of him? Fine. Drake Mallard didn't need anyone else. He was better off on his own.

Those horrible feelings crash over him like a tidal wave now, twenty years later, and he doesn't know why they're here but he's overwhelmed by it all.

Why can't he just have a normal body? Why does his condition have to be so expensive and annoying and miserable sometimes? Why does he have to be so dependent on people when he tells himself that he’s better off working alone, when no one in his life has loved him enough to care anyway?

There's a price tag on his head (not just physical, because diabetes is a greedy little bitch), and it's only a matter of time until Launchpad figures this out. He won't want to stay up late to keep checking, to keep buying syringes or insulin or tests strips. He won't stay forever, and it's all Drake's fault, for getting so attached and having a broken, shitty body.

“Drake? Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks. There are tears in his eyes, a few of which have spilled down his cheeks.

“Uh,” his voice cracks. He wipes away the tears with his other hand. “No. N-no, you didn't do anything wrong. What were you doing?”

Launchpad cocks his head to the side and squints in concern. He knows there's more to Drake's answer, but he doesn't push yet. “I pricked your finger and put the blood in. You didn't even flinch, but I thought that was ‘cause you're used to this. Was there another reason?”

“I'm sorry.” And before Launchpad can start to ask for what? with his mouth already open, Drake rushes to say, “I'm sorry that out of all the people you could date, you got stuck with a chronically ill mess like me. You deserve a normal partner, and god you have no idea how badly I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll always be a burden and I know you won't want to stick around to deal with all the shit that comes with diabetes.

“Not that I don't want you to stay, please don't think that, but…” More tears fall and he brushes them aside, accidentally smearing blood on his feathers. “I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me, and I don't want it to stop.”

He doesn't take his eyes off of Launchpad as he cries. If this were a cartoon, he would laugh at how quickly their expression changes. Confusion, concern, and realization flash across their face before their eyes soften again in concern.

“Baby,” they say, reaching out to cradle Drake's face. They gently wipe away the blood with their thumb, and Drake feels weak. Loving touches were something he was never given as a child, and it's taken some getting used to. It burns, unfamiliar and wonderful, every time Launchpad touches him. All he can do in this moment is lean into it and shut his eyes.

“Look at me, please?” He groans internally as he opens his eyes. Later, when his blood sugar isn't so low and he can properly think, he’ll recall the look on his boyfriend's face as determined. “I love you, so much. You're not a burden, and you never will be. Being with you is a new experience, sure, but it's a good one. It's not your fault your body's like this, and it doesn't make you any less amazing.

“Heck, if anything, it makes you even more so. You have to do more to stay healthy than most people, and you're really good at it! St. Canard is a better place with Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard.” Launchpad leans in to kiss his forehead. “They were wrong, you're not unlovable.”

He's so gentle, so sweet, and it's all too much for Drake to wrap his mind around. Never mind the low, he's just heard what he's secretly always wanted to. He is good. He is loved. He...needs to know what his blood sugar actually was before he cries an entire ocean. One more thing, though.

“Uh,” seems like a good place to start as he scrambles to pick up the pieces of himself. He takes a shaky breath. “Thank you. Sorry I dumped all of that onto you, I don't know where it came from tonight, but. Thanks. I really needed that.”

LP still looks a little sad and it makes his heart hurt, but he bites down on his beak to avoid apologizing again. “No problem. Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere.” He strokes his cheek some more, and Drake sighs.

“This is nice and all, but,” his eyes dart to the meter still sitting in front of him. They got distracted for too long and now the little screen is dark. “Did you catch the number that showed up?”

“Buh?” Launchpad's eyes widen as he remembers what they were doing before. “Oh, dang it! Sorry! Do I need to do it again, or-”

Eh, they probably should, but Drake doesn't want to. It hasn't been too long anyways, maybe five minutes? He’ll be fine. “No, you're good, just press the button with the arrows. All the pricks get stored so you can look at them later.”

Any distress on their face is quickly replaced by a beaming smile. “Neat!” They do as Drake asked, and a number pops up: 46.

“Lovely,” Drake groans. “And I just ate. Maybe I just took too much insulin. Or am I getting sick? If I can't keep anything down in the next hour, I swear-”

LP snapping his fingers in his face pulls him away from his rambling. “Hello? Earth to Drake Mallard. I dunno what made you low, but we gotta fix it first. Would more juice work?”

Oh yeah. Hm, more juice or something else? Even though he feels exhausted, going to sleep is a bad idea. He's gotta stay up until he's back in range, so…

“Actually, do you have any Pep?” Launchpad tilts his head and furrows his brow as Drake explains. “Normally I wouldn't ask, but I think something with that much sugar would really help. Plus, the caffeine will keep me awake.”

They look less confused now, but their head remains tilted slightly. “There's not that much caffeine in Pep, though.”

“You forget I don't drink the regular Peps nearly as often as you do, LP.” The last time he actually had one was...ten years ago? They work great for treating a low quickly and that's the only time he ever cares to drink them. It's not worth the extra insulin or highs to try to look normal.

“Oh yeah! So you're not used to the sugar.” He nods. “Okay, be right back.” Launchpad takes about twenty seconds to get a Pep and come back to Drake. The tab's already open. “Uh, do you need to drink the whole thing right now?”

He really shouldn't, the juice is probably still processing. Still, it's very tempting to chug the entire thing just to put more sugar in his body. But he wants his blood sugar to be normal, not sky high. “No, I'll probably drink half of it right now. Thank you.” He takes the Pep and sips, blinking at the sheer amount of sugar flooding his taste buds.

The fact that most people drink enough of this stuff to where they hardly notice it boggles his mind. Not that the diet stuff is really healthier, but it's definitely a different taste.

Guess he's pulling a graveyard shift tonight. But at least he's with Launchpad.

(That's the other thing about drinking regular sodas; he gets really hyper. Last time, he couldn't fall asleep until exactly two am. Being tired but unable to sleep is the absolute worst feeling, and you can't change Drake's mind.)

Now that he can think a little more clearly, he realizes something.

“I can't drive like this,” he says. Driving with a low blood sugar is really dangerous, and not his usual kind. It's the kind of dangerous that could get himself, or someone else, or even both, killed. “And I'm definitely not walking home anytime soon, so. Guess our date’s been extended?”

Launchpad blinks at him, then claps his hands together and grins. “You're staying overnight! I mean, I wish it was under better circumstances, obviously, but. Yay!” He rocks on his heels before catching himself and looking away, a faint blush appearing on his face. “Anyways, is there anything else you need?”

Drake's about to reply not right now, thank you, but then he realizes something that's actually pretty important.

“Wait, since I'm staying here tonight, could I use your bathroom really quick? I, uh, need to take my binder off,” he admits. He’d forgotten it was even there until he remembered wait, you need to take that off before you go to sleep. He put it on about a half hour after he woke up, which was at noon, and it's midnight now so...oops. It's past time to take it off.

His boyfriend nods. “Yeah, no worries! Do what you gotta do. Wait.” His brow furrows. “You need me to help you over there?”

“I,” he falters. “Wouldn't mind it if you did.” The sugar's kicking in now, but he still doesn't trust himself. Given how clumsy he is? Better safe than sorry.

Launchpad holds his arms as he walks to the bathroom. He closes the door, Launchpad sitting in front of it just in case, and turns to the mirror. His shirt hits the floor, soon followed by his binder. A sigh of relief fills the air as he folds it. He hadn't realized how long he'd been wearing it. Tomorrow will have to be a skip day just to stay on the safe side.

(Hormones aren't a concern; he's not on them right now and is perfectly fine with that. The cost of that and insulin would be hard to juggle, anyways.)

He opens the door to find Launchpad staring at him, and he smiles shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Launchpad smiles back, and holds out his hand. Drake takes it and pulls his boyfriend to his feet. They walk back to the couch together. “So, what are we doing? You can't go to sleep until your blood sugar's back up and we were in the middle of an episode of Darkwing Duck.”

“I like the way you think,” Drake teases. “So long as you check every now and then to make sure I haven't fallen asleep yet.” He sits down in his original spot.

“Whatever you need,” they reply, and sit down next to him. They wrap their around his waist and Drake leans into their side as he tries to find the remote. It occurs to him just then that there's still something he hasn't said yet. Something bigger than “thank you.”

He taps LP on the shoulder. They turn to look at him and oh no, he's already flustered. “I just. You said you, uh, loved me earlier and I wanted to say that, that I love you too.” His face is burning, and he got quieter at the end, but at least it’s out in the open now.

Launchpad’s eyes soften and he tilts his head close enough to kiss Drake. It's a quick peck, but sweet nonetheless. When he pulls away, he's smiling. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

Drake only blushes more and buries his face in Launchpad's chest. He can feel Launchpad chuckle and oh. Oh, that's really nice. He likes that a lot. He would stay right here, but the sounds of the Darkwing Duck episode are a siren song that never fails to lure him in.

They stay there, watching episode after episode and Launchpad checking in every so often. By the time Drake's blood sugar has gone back to normal, he stops watching and starts really thinking about the events of the night.

He doesn't have to do this on his own anymore. Someone actually wants to take care of him now.

He is loved. Really, truly loved. And he’ll never let Launchpad go.