#Anyways: Enjoy Spacie

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

While, yes, I started doing the Springtrap & Y/N quotes because I thought they were fun (and that the quote fit best for them, rather than anyone else). There was another thing...

Basically, yeah, I was sort of thinking of @spaciebabie whenever I figured: “Yeah, I should do this.” Because it’s fun, and I knew they’d like these, along with other people.

Spacie, I have joined everyone else messing with you with the Springtrap stuff—except instead of art and fics, it’s quotes 👍

[spaciebabie]

ever since i made that one freddy and bonnie smoking weed post i have wanted ta make something specifically so i could put it on my laptop and 2day is the day my friends

YOU can also put it on ur laptop if yu want b/c its a sticker on redbubble :]

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay, anyone else on SSRIs: is it normal to suddenly feel a little bit stupid all the time

[fandomfluffandfuck]

hello mr s, i come into your humble inbox filled with horny thoughts 🥴 imagine with me: what tells do you think (pre/post-serum) steve n bucky might have when they're close to orgasm?

(just some bonus thoughts to ponder) who would be more vocal between the two of them? chanting the other's name, or quietly gasping and groaning? do they lose control of their limbs or are they fucking solely on instinct? who is likelier to grab the other's face, desperately wanting to devour their mouth, and be devoured in turn as they careen towards their climax? 😩

whew! as always, thanks for aiding and abetting all these horny anons parading around your blog, i appreciate each and every one of y'all 💖

Hey, sweets!

I feel like you'll enjoy this ask that similarly talks about the different canon Steve's, but instead of tells for orgasm it's about lingerie!

I'm gonna twist this prompt a little bit and talk specifically about how they react at the moment of orgasm because... 😏 why not?

1. Pre-serum & pre-war Steve:

When I was considering what to write for this ask--it's a lot of detail because of the different versions I see of Steve and Bucky and how I think they grow and evolve--I immediately had this thought:

I bet pre-serum Steve holds his breath when he cums.

I have no idea why I think that. But. Brain just said so, so it must be so. That's why they call it a head canon.

Pre-serum Steve has heart trouble, and his body doesn't always want to stay with the program (re: he doesn't always stay hard), so Bucky and him have perfected the art of keeping his heart rate between high enough to keep his erection but not too high to trigger his arrhythmia. Additionally, Bucky and Steve have had plenty of practice stabilizing Steve's breathing to make sure that he doesn't have an asthma attack during sex. And somewhere along the lines of that...

Steve's evolved this response of lying limp and not breathing, going silent as he cums.

Bucky thinks it's hot as fuck.

Steve will be digging his nails into him--his artist hands are stronger and bonier than they have any right to be--groaning softly, tension all over in his body, trying not to make too much noise even though it feels so good, and then he'll tip over the edge--

And he'll have this moment.

His dark eyes roll back into his head, eyelashes fluttering, and his mouth falls open, but no sound comes out of him. He's entirely quiet. His chest doesn't stutter or heave. He's simply... suspended in the pleasure.

Frozen in the moment. Except, at the same time that he's frozen, he's consumed by flames.

Hot.

When Steve comes out of it, falling from his peak, his lungs rasp, desperate, like he might have an asthma attack right then, but he never does; Steve never says it hurts or feels bad. He shivers sometimes, gasping. Instead, he says it leaves him feeling spacy and good, just a little dizzy. It's good. Really good.

1. Pre-serum & prewar Bucky

Steve is the quiet one between the two of them. He's also the one who has more control over himself. So, while Steve goes silent and lies limp, reveling in the pleasure, just trying to take in the pleasure as it fries his nerves, Bucky is the one that more often than not needs a hand slapped over his mouth--his own or Steve's.

Bucky has a special weakness for Steve's hand over his mouth, or Steve's fingers in his mouth gagging him, giving him something to suck on. It's a double-edged sword, though. Muffled as he might be, if it's Steve's fingers in his mouth, he's absolutely going cross-eyed and moaning louder than he would've anyway. Little shit.

Still, Bucky just can't help but moan and groan and swear as he cums. He also tends to shake. Vibrate. It just feels really good. There's something about pleasure and Steve that brings the really, really raw edge out of Bucky.

Bucky's been with dames, when he cums with a dame, because of a dame, its different. It's still fucking good. It can be fucking great. But, no matter what he does with Steve it's always fucking great. When he's with a dame at least when he moans in her ear as he cums, she doesn't mind it and he's not totally afraid to be caught. Sure, nobody wouldn't sneer at them, they ain't married, but... it's not illegal.

Bucky moans in Steve's ear and Steve's thin chest heaves with desire, but Steve also shushes him, drawing his fingers through Bucky's hair where it hangs over his forehead, his sweat wearing out his pomade and curling the damp strands. He can't do that. Shut up.

So, instead of moaning into Steve's ear, because he can't be trusted to control his volume, Bucky moans into the hot skin of his palm. Hand over mouth.

Steve's flattered that he can't control it, that his jaw drops open and stays there. Lungs heaving. Throat contracting around those pretty sounds. Steve likes it. He desperately wants to hear more of it. He regularly has... particularly stimulating fantasies about taking Bucky away, somewhere else--the woods, great plains, or anywhere remote--and doing everything he can to be able to hear those moans loud and fucking clear. Sometimes, he wonders, his sadistic side peaking through, what he could do to get Bucky to scream.

2. WWii & freshly post-serum Steve

Throw everything out the window that you think you know about how Steve cums from the above drabble 👀

It all changes when Steve gets the serum. Suddenly, no matter what he does, he can't seem to get his body to get rid of his erection. He can't get his heart to stop racing. Booming in his suddenly large chest. But it never comes with any pain or dizziness. It's just... doing what it's supposed to?

And those two symptoms, a constant fucking boner and a pounding heart, are not even to mention how overwhelming everything feels now.

It's a riot under his skin whenever he gets aroused. Which. Is often.

He feels like he's become Bucky. He can't cum without biting his fist so hard that he tastes blood or stuffing fucking... any clothing item into his mouth to muffle himself. Why does he suddenly have to be so loud when he's in the worst fucking place to be loud? 😫 He's surrounded all the time. First, the USO girls, then soldiers, and, God, he can't catch a break.

He can't help the sounds. Whimpers and whines and moans. His voice goes all high and thin. He can't. It feels like he's on the edge of sobs right before he cums, then when he does cum, if he doesn't sob outright, he ends up squeezing his eyes so tight that they spill over anyway. And his orgasm always feels like it lasts and lasts and lasts--

The peak of his orgasm stretching out into this, this minute? This hour? This agonizing length of time that means he makes a huge fucking mess with cum. The serum made everything bigger, including his cock and balls, but it also made the volume of semen inside his larger balls increase. Steve's ashamed. It's so much.

It's so much.

He feels so much.

He moans, he cries, he cums and cums, and he breaks fucking everything. He rips his sheets, fisting them, going through them like paper; he breaks his cot, grabbing it too hard; he bends his dogtags, aching for something, anything to hold onto and scrambling, finding his tags and squeezing.

If he cums with a forcefully muffled sound and not the sound of something being ripped or snapping it's a fucking miracle.

He doesn't go limp anymore. He squeezes. Tension all through his body. Even in his feet, which curl until his soles cramp. Every orgasm feels like it's ripped up from the base of his soul. He's so easy to make cum and yet... every orgasm is devastating.

2. WWii Bucky

Bucky during the war is much the same as he was before the war except... infected with Steve's desperate, fucking urgent desires and polluted with his own brand of life-or-death urgency after being brought back from across enemy lines. So, now, he's just more reckless and desperate. His sounds get more guttural. Deeper. Drastic. He shakes harder and clings harder, too.

Silver lining, though, those louder, more deep, desperate sounds are pretty easy to muffle these days; all Bucky has to do is bury his face into Steve's tits. It's all he wants to do anyway. Motorboat Steve. Jesus Christ. He could suffocate between his fucking knockers. And when he's there, he's not as loud.

Perfect.

Although, however strong the urge to faceplant into Steve's pecs is, more often then not, after being separated and threatened with death, they now end up cumming face to face. Mouths open and panting together, sharing the same hot, humid air. Trying their damn best to choke back their sounds and... not being very successful. Bucky's gutted, rasping groans and moans. Steve's high-pitched, overwhelmed whimpers and gasps and moans. They're so fucking lucky the Howlies put up with their shit.

But, face to face as they are--grasping urgently at each other, distance having only made them more firmly attached to each other--just means Bucky gets a close-up on seeing how Steve's orgasm face has changed...

It hasn't.

Not really.

His eyes still roll back into his head, and his mouth hangs open, red, as his entire face flushes. It's all just turned up to eleven. It's just more desperate and needy and, God, is it pretty.

He's so pretty. He always was. (Not that Bucky would've said it back then.) A walkin' angel, but now he's here, and he's really Bucky's angel, saving his life and bringing him to his knees. Bucky is devoted to him, moreso than any holy diety. So, Steve can't get rid of Bucky. All Bucky can do is hang off of them whenever they're in private. Desperate to feel him.

3. Modern Steve before Bucky returns

The first few orgasms Steve has before Bucky returns are lined thickly with guilt and sadness and pain especially. Emotional pain mostly. He doesn't really... want to.

He needs to, but he doesn't want to. He takes to referring, internally, to these physical needs as "maintenance" orgasms. Maintenance because apparently, freezing a fella for seventy fucking years backs him up--his balls are swollen and achy and for the first year-ish he cums so much that he can't masturbate anywhere but in the shower.

It's even more embarrassing without a partner to go dark-eyed over it, biting his lip hard in an effort not to swear seven ways to Sunday, and get him through it until he's got nothing left to give because he's simply curious to see how much he has in the tank. How far can he push him?

Yeah. It's different without someone else there.

Just. He doesn't think...

It wasn't--

It wasn't this much when he came after he got the serum a lifetime ago. So, he doesn't really get why now, after his time in the Arctic, he's got even more cum but... he does.

And it's so much.

It's, like, a comical amount. Enough to drown himself.

It eases off, eventually, but Steve is still pretty sure it's even more cum now than it used to be. Passively, he wonders why, but he's not about to tell anyone (or, God forbid, ask a doctor about) how his jizz fluctuated upon waking up.

3. [I'm not going to talk about Bucky during HYDRA or when he's breaking his brainwashing for this]

4. Modern Steve after Bucky returns

When Bucky is back to himself, he's absolutely back to his old games...

He fucking loves what the serum did to Steve. He seems downright obsessed with making him get as many erections as possible and takes almost sick pleasure in getting him off every time he gets it up. Even after they're both sore and raw and exhausted.

Bucky fucking cheers, like a goddamn dork, the first time he gets Steve to cum so much that he cums dry.

Nothing left to give.

And when Steve cums dry, it's like he's hard reset--rather than moaning high and feminine and jesusfuckingchrist making these sounds that're so whiny and fuck-me that it's not even fair, as he shakes and clenches and breaks shit, he just breaks.

He falls entirely limp. Mouth open wide, gaped, drool shiny on his candy red lips and chin. He can't seem to make a sound. While Bucky's been at this, Steve's voice has gone in waves, getting hoarse, then the serum will knit him back together, good as new, then he'll moan himself raw again, and--

He can't make a sound, though.

He cums dry, and he cums silently, lying in a puddle of his own sweat, boneless. Surrendering to the current of overwhelming, forest-fire level pleasure.

It throws Bucky all the way back to the 30s/40s Brooklyn.

That's exactly what his lil Stevie looked like cumming. Strings cut. Desperately holding it all in, needing to maintain secrecy, their own little world. Pink head to toe. Blushing all the way to his ears and down his chest. Swollen lips. Hard, pointed nipples. Drooling, twitching cock.

God.

It makes Bucky want to make him cum like this all the time, stripping him of every inhibition until he can't even react to the pleasure anymore and falls entirely weak. As good as his over-the-top, entirely overwhelmed reactions to pleasure are... there's something special about finding something old and realizing it anew.

4. Modern Bucky after deprogramming

Bucky has his own entire journey with his body, obviously, and he learns a whole shit ton about how he works with the serum in his veins. How sensitive he suddenly is, not only on par with Steve in strength but also in nerves. His nerves feel raw, so much closer to the surface than they were before, and even that--even his skin feels more alive now. Just Steve's palm hot on the small of his back goes right to his dick. And his dick. Christ. He can go and go and go. Maybe not as rapidly, back-to-back-to-back as Steve, but he's also never been as into pain and discomfort as Steve so... that tracks. He also doesn't cum as much as Steve does, but that's an impossible measure. Steve floods like he busted a pipe when he orgasms.

[Insert that clip of Sebastian talking about the "game" Bucky played in Romania with his metal arm here 😏]

Sometimes, Bucky finds himself looking back, realizing that it wasn't just the repeated near-death experiences that made sex with Steve after Steve had the serum running through his veins feel different. More urgent. Primal. Now, now, now. It was his first doses of serum. Burning through him like alcohol. Raising his libido to a fever pitch.

There are still similarities from the past, though. Bucky's ability to control his volume hasn't gotten any better. It's gotten worse. His moans remain at the pitch they were during the war, ragged and desperate and raw because of how fucking good it feels.

It feels so goddamn good that Bucky starts this habit of curling into a ball when he cums. He wants to curl around his core, throbbing with want--white-hot, sticky, and too much to bear. He can't help it! It just happens. Every orgasm feels ripped out of him. Suddenly, he understands why Steve bent his dogtags so many times during the war. He understands why they broke so many cots. Why so many branches broke under Steve's hands. Why he had to sew his uniform so often, or get patches, lest he have to explain to command how he ruined his fatigues again.

Christ.

It feels good.

5. Nomad Steve

Steve's moans and whines and gasps disappear or fade into these rough, deep sounds. He starts fucking growling and Bucky doesn't know where the hell that part of him comes from but he pulls it out of Steve at every opportunity. He flaunts his body--softened by his time in hiding in a place with incredible tech and medicine and even more incredible food--until Steve folds.

Steve gives him that new fucking growl and stalks up to him and takes--

Bucky is going to figure out how to make a list of every person who has pissed Steve off over the years, every system that's told him to go fuck himself, and he's gonna write them a goddamn thank you letter. Whatever, whoever pulled the bastard out of his fucking boyfriend.

A bastard that makes Bucky scream, and then he laughs about it.

He laughs now, it's not that he didn't before, but he'll chuckle. Dirty and mean and then groan or growl and Christ.

It's hot.

It makes those little, softer, higher sounds so much sweeter, though.

Steve will be growling and giving it to him, bruising his softer, more plush body, getting mean on him, and Bucky will touch him just right--he'll scratch him behind the ear, where his long, dirty-blond hair is beginning to curl, he'll put his lips to work on his cock, pressed all the way down the hair at the base, lips and tongue working at Steve's hole between his round cheeks--and Steve will crumble.

His chest will heave, and he'll whine.

The sweetest little sound coming out of this huge, hulking man.

God.

That's when he's cumming. Right then. He cracks, crying out, and his head drops onto any part of Bucky that he can reach, forehead to his shoulder, face tucked into his neck, pressed against his tummy, anything. He shakes, clinging extra hard. Totally falling apart.

5. Wakanda Bucky

It'd probably the reason Steve and Bucky are Steve and Bucky--they balance each other out. There's something about the way Steve hardens that leaves Bucky melting.

Steve growls and groans until he doesn't, and Bucky takes to gasping, making all these sweet, breathy noises that he didn't realize he could still make. He thought he lost it somewhere along the lines of growing up and going to war. He thought the unending hunger now inside him since receiving the serum had him losing those noises. Apparently not, they just needed to be pulled out of him.

Pulled out of him, more like ripped out of him.

Ripped out like his screams. Raw and visceral. He's screamed because of Steve before, but now, if he doesn't entirely lose it and let it go (at least) every other time... it's strange.

Also, Steve's new, extra-intense propensity for being touched, needing to press into Bucky and be close reminds Bucky of a cat. A lion, maybe. No matter, Bucky responds in kind, he suddenly feels like he can only breathe when Steve is touching him. Some part of him has always felt that, but he clings. He clings. He trembles and makes sweet sounds and has to be so close as he cums. He can't. He can't. He still curls up around Steve, but he needs him. He needs to be as close as he physically can. And it still doesn't feel like enough.

It's the desperation of the serum all over again. They can't keep their hands away from each other. They never can, but, y’know... Bucky's never been more glad he doesn't have neighbors.

6. Retired Steve + Retired Bucky

Retirement leaves both Steve and Bucky reckless. Sweet reckless. Nothing matters. They can do whatever the fuck they want to do. Anything. Any discernable pattern of what it'll be like when they give into their urges goes out the window.

Sometimes Steve feels it boil up inside him, thick and lava-hot, and it comes out with a growl that he can't possibly control. Other times, it's an equally uncontrollable and needy whine or cry that's 100% pathetic. It comes from the same primal instinct.

The same need.

Steve just doesn't know what it is until it is.

And somehow Bucky's on the same page. Every time. Right there with him, feeling like being sweet when Steve is feeling like roughing him up, needing to be demanding and mean when Steve needs him to be, being what he feels and just fucking being exactly what Steve needs. Steve needs him so badly.

Bucky needs Steve so badly.

They oscillate rapidly. Nothing they do isn't good. Why wouldn't it be? There's no point in doing anything they don't want to. They deserve it. So they explore. They take the time to tear each other apart in every way they can imagine.

The other Avengers like to tease them for being scandalized by modern life, but only if they knew what retirement is for them. They know for a fact they would be the scandalized ones

I hope you enjoyed that. It was pretty rambling and not very structured, but 🤷🏻‍♂️ sometimes that's how it is

Also, yes! I love all the horny anons around these parts, lmao.

[aria-ashryver]

Me and my ask no.104849484739393038, hello 🙈 Apart from not seeing the grandma, how did it go? Cause I remember that last time you had to go back the next day to finish your third bag

hello lovely 💛😊 i do so love ur asks, dw

KITTY WTF I WROTE AN ENTIRE THING AND THEN ACCIDENTALLY HIT CTRLZ AND DELETED SAID ENTIRE THING TUMBLR WHY

WHY DO THIS TO ME ON THIS THE DAY OF MY CHEMO HAVE I NOT EXPERIENCED ENOUGH OF THE HORRORS FOR ONE DAY LMAO

fml. i had written like 5 paragraphs of garbage for you and its all just gone im so mad. this is a curious peek into my brain??

doctor: hey its stage 4 cancer for sure

me: oh, that's fine 🌸🤭💝✨✌️🎀

tumblr: *deletes my shit when i just got done typing*

me: LISTEN HERE PAL 💢😡🙅‍♀️☣️🔥🔥🔥🔥

the long and short of it was yeah, treatment went well, i had somewhat of a reaction after we started, described it to the nurse (muscle pain, mental spaciness, trouble breathing, tight throat, waves of extreme anxiety) and she was like "nah those reactions don't happen with this partcular drug, ur having a panic attack bro" (i don't think i was, it felt different to panic attacks i've had in the past, but who knows) (probably the nurse) and then i went and got an exceptionally good bowl of pho and a pork belly bánh mì, so all is well once again in aria's goofy little world.

anyway, i am fine, the symptoms of Schrödinger's panic attack are gone, so instead please enjoy these pictures of my various neighbour's cats, who all decided to visit me at the exact same time for some reason and then sat on me and refused to move despite my protests that i am, in fact, allergic to cats✨

holy shit its been a day haha. still happy though! 😊

[slime-stew]

samus cannot approach. she is slow and has poor air mobility and doesn't have the breadth of offensive options like she does neutral or defensive options. samus being reactive at midrange or following up behind missile is about as active as she gets. samus is widely considered a mid tier just barely in the top half of the cast. you can, in spite of this, enjoy playing samus, given the character has a unique playstyle and considering the character may hold special meaning for the player

falco can approach. he has one of the fastest walk speeds and some of the best vertical mobility in the game. he also has some pretty fast lasers that can stuff any possible approach, and let him close the distance. his combo game is likewise some of the best in the game, especially given his frame 1 shine and his lingering 20 frame spike dair (which can combo into each other). falco is widely regarded as a top 5 at worst character, and for much of the game's life was #2. his losing matchups are still considered about 6/4 at worst. falco can play a patient neutral-focused game with lasers, or can go in with flashy combos. you can also sit at the edge of the stage, refusing to approach, jumping away and shooting lasers, making approaching only barely possible. thanks to falco's vertical mobility, he can run away as soon as his opponent is finally within scrapping range, which i will add is still a strong position for falco to be in - even a close range shffl will stuff most options, and allow falco to follow up. you can, in spite of this, enjoy playing falco, given the character has a unique playstyle and considering the character may hold special meaning for the player

and yet, falco is considered the way cooler character. spacie mains will complain that the samus play is unable to approach, and is forced to slowly walk forward, not miss any powershields, maybe shoot a missile, and somehow get in on falco. falco can dictate the pace of the match. being the character with speed (more than samus, anyway) means you are not punished for approaching in any way that matters. even sitting in center stage lasering is still largely active play - you are keeping stage control, standing your ground, and keeping yourself flexible enough to punish poorly spaced moves or to give up space in a disadvantageous position.

so then, begs the question - if you, the top tier with options, choose not to play the game, why do you blame the low tiers for oppressing you? what is a laser if not oppressive stage control? is going across the entire stage in less than a second too slow? what would make you engage with your opponent, the best projectile and dair in the game won't? is there something better outside the game, something intrinsic to playing this way that you enjoy? you seem to complain about lame low tiers - they were not the ones making the choice. a gameplan revolving around not playing the game sounds counterintuitive to the supposed love for the game that spacies have (i would say fastfallers, but many falcons do seem to also enjoy the game). i thought we hated slow, noninteractive campy gameplay, the one so characteristic of those damn low tiers? but it's necessary when falco does it, of course - years of being one of the most popular characters for competitive play (plus the countless players who have successfully gotten into major top 8's with the character, or even won tournaments with him) have shown falco is more than capable at the top level. 2 of the 5 gods played falco, and had drastically different playstyles. falco is versatile in a way many characters can't be. choosing to be lame will always be less respectable than being born lame. what then, drives someone to self sabotage their own enjoyment. could it be for money? probably not, given the track record of melee pot bonuses being barely enough to pay for some late night pancakes and the ride back home. even in fighting games - hell, even in platform fighters, there are games with actual prizepools. so, is it bragging rights? in a game so focused on looking sick with your dope ass schmovement and nutty mindgames, sitting there and shooting your gun until the timer runs out sounds pretty uncool. melee famously banned a few techniques for being uncool as is - ledgegrab limits limit a character like jigglypuff fox or shiek from planking ad infinitum, and wobbling famously turned melee into a 200bpm cutscene. if puff on the ledge and a wobbling pools menace ice climber are killing the game, why are you any different? why are you so much better for choosing a character who sinks like a rock? if it's not to look cool, is it at least for the satisfaction of seeing the win screen, and telling your pools captain that it was a "quick" 2-0? that seems a bit depressing - if you want to see a game! you could queue into unranked as bowser and try to see how fast you can get 10 "wins" in a row. additionally, this inevitably falls apart when you consider the number of netplay falcos sitting by themselves, alone in their room, camping for no ELO and no calculated win. is it that simply chasing a win screen by any means necessary is its own victory? that does admittedly fall apart in ranked but if you're relying on % lead timeouts then you are literally wasting everyone involved's time on the level of puff peach. you could play against a level 1 cpu if you wanted that (they can be pretty tough with their impenetrable jab 1>jab 1 combos, but lasers beat that too).

if you want to play the game, play the game. if you don't want to play the game, that's fine. there are some really cool characters that can not play the game in various intentional and unintentional ways (puff and bowser respectively). but then don't complain that you are being held down. you are holding your own head underwater while complaining that the guy using floaties half a pool away is ruining your fun. fox does this shit too but like everyone knows he's good and laser is slightly less terrible because at least it doesn't do hitstun but he is also definitely very fucking fast which sucks but if you get a hold of him its sooooo fun beating him up. i get no satisfaction from grabbing that dumb bird who has shot me 400 times. i have no lame bones in my body i just don't have any sick ones. i got adhd i can't be sitting around shooting lasers it is mentally painful to do so. i barely even fucking grab and i def dont chaingrab cuz being optimal is for people who win money and if neither of us are winning shit i at least want to have had a good time. go play like happy chaos in strive or some shit you can shoot your gun from far away and instead of silently malding people will actively complain about you. stop pretending you are so cool and epic and full of schmixes. you are unpleasant to fight and like i don't love every matchup but at least when i lose i can be like "okay maybe next time i will throw out a nair when i'm above the platform but to their side" and i can make my little adjustments tailored to how i enjoy fighting in the fighting game. also when people complain that they should have camped harder because they lost playing like that. you lost because you gave up your advantage and all they did was play the game normally and go for safe punishes and whatever. if you are limiting your options you have no leg to stand on. fuck off. play the video game

[chnsfairy]

i really hope chan talks more about astrology and space in his next live 🏹🌙🖤

[phantomspiderr]

Petrichor - Part 4/6

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader, established Marc Spector x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: a little story of falling in love. A lovely day makes for a lovely picnic... until it doesn't.

Warnings: it's too much fluff at this point

a/n: little run down of the series here, if I'm missing any warnings or there are any problems please let me know. Please enjoy and be kind🤍

Part 3 | series masterlist

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

It had been Steven's idea to go out, it was a perfectly sunny day and he thought it'd be romantic to go on a picnic. After seeing the way his cheeks blushed when he'd asked, you couldn't help but immediately agree. You busy yourself with finding a blanket and a bag big enough to carry everything you'd need, while Steven began looking around the kitchen for food.

You watched from the doorway as Steven methodically packed you each a little lunchbox. He smiled to himself after placing both the boxes into a little tote bag, "I thought you were going to help or are you just going to keep gawking at me, love?" The playful way he spoke shocked you, had he known you were standing there the whole time? Also how rude, you'd done your part, your bag was packed with the blanket, sunscreen, and a change of clothes for each of the boys, just in case, because they each preferred the comfort of their own things when they fronted.

"Mean," you'd walked over and gently jabbed his side, he let out a little 'oi!' that made you chuckle. Then you helped him anyway, taking every opportunity you were near to bump into him or nudge him just because he'd laugh and tell you to 'stop it' with a pointed finger that just made you want to do it more.

"Come on you," Steven held the front door open, shooing you out of the apartment now that you had perfectly wasted time teasing him instead of helping him get everything ready. You begin to wander down the hallway towards the elevator as he locks the door. The elevator doors open and you step inside and watch as Steven rushes to join you, muttering as he approaches and sees you unmoving "you better hold the door love." You only giggle as the door starts to close and he practically runs to catch it, "not funny." He points at you again as he enters the small space and turns away for a second to push the button and you can't help but quietly giggle more.

"Knew you'd make it," you bump your hip against him once he's stood next to you and he glares at you for a moment before a smile graces his face.

"Cheeky."

"You love me," you bump him again before slipping your hand into his. Then there's a moment of silence before he stutters out a quiet 'yeah' that deflates your mood just a little. But you shake it off with a smile before exiting the elevator together when the doors open onto the ground floor.

The walk to the park is quiet, not in terms of your surroundings but rather conversation. Steven seems to be in his head a little, more spacey like how he is when he's internally talking with Marc or Jake. You're more than understanding of his situation and let him take everything at his own pace. Not wanting to force him into any conversation, you find peace in observing the world around you as you walk.

"What about over there?" Steven lifts your intertwined hands and points to a quiet section of grass, there aren't many people surrounding it and there's a little shade from a closeby tree, it's perfect. You both make your way over to the spot and start to set up your little picnic. Steven pulls out the lunchbox he'd made up for you and dramatically presents it to you, "m'lady."

You take the box from his hands and laugh, “you need to stop watching Bridgeton, it's making you posher." Steven starts to laugh alongside you and you sense the spaciness from before has disappeared. You begin to wonder if one of the other boys gave him a pep talk, whatever it was you’re happy he’s fully present again.

"S'your favourite," he nods at the box now sitting in your lap before he takes a bite from the sandwich he'd pulled out of his own box. You smile away to yourself at the fact he's taken the time to learn your favourite things in just a few months of dating.

You spend that whole afternoon smiling actually, Steven seems to have a way of making you smile at everything. Whether it was his overexcitedness when he saw a little family of ducks crossing the park in search of any crumbs or when he'd jumped up straight away to help a little old lady who'd dropped her walking stick as she sat down on a nearby bench. You'd found so much comfort at this moment with him that you didn't even realise you'd started to doze off with your head in his lap.

"Dove, I think it's going to rain." He gently rocked your shoulder and received a little grumble from you, "those clouds look very angry and I don't think you'd appreciate it if I left you here to get soaked just for a few more minutes of sleep." You grumble again before sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you definitely don't remember falling asleep or feeling tired. Steven's hand gently holds your face, his thumb stroking against your cheek softly once you pull your hands away and sleepily look at him. At that point his smile is infectious, your hazy brain feels lovesick after a day spent together and you can't help but lean closer to him and he slowly gives you just one small peck on the lips. You whine just a little as he pulls back looking like he's about to say something and before he can utter a single word little droplets of rain start falling.

The pair of you pull apart and Steven quickly starts to gather your stuff into a bag as the rain suddenly starts to fall quicker. People around you are scrambling for shelter, the sudden downpour surprising everyone.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Steven pauses as he watches you lay down and close your eyes, “you’re going to get soaked! Come on get u-“

“Lay down with me.”

“What? No. Love, please, come on you’re getting wet and you’ll catch a cold by the time we walk home.” You don’t verbally respond, just patting the spot next to you as the rain gets heavier. There’s a pause before without warning you’re being hoisted to your feet with a yelp.

“Steven!” You look at him wide eyed, head a bit dizzy, not only from the change in orientation but from his show of strength. Sometimes you forget about the super human abilities he possesses. “Rude!” You finally speak again after the shock has worn off.

“Me? No, you!” His hair is completely drenched and sticking to his forehead as your beautiful sunny day has apparently turned into a complete downpour. “Look at the state of us now cause you wouldn’t move your butt!” He can’t even feign anger when you’re looking up at him with a dopey smile now.

“You’re cute,” you hold his chin and place a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t complain when you’re all sick and snotty.” His arms slip around your waist as you giggle and cuddle into him, arms slung over his shoulders. You both just accept the way your skin grows cold and clothes stick to you with the increasing rain. Your bodies swaying together like there's music only the two of you can hear.

“I’ll take being sick and snotty later to be in this moment with you,” you smile as your head tips back, facing toward the sky with your eyes closed. It’s then you miss the most genuine smile spread across Steven’s face as he looks at you and the swirl of emotions that hit him out of nowhere.

[bittydragon]

Alone in a Cramped Universe - 1

Notes: GUESS WHO ISN’T DEAD BITCHES! So I started writing a new story, one that’s gonna go for a while if I can keep on this train of motivation. I’m trying out a new schedule for managing my time in school and if it works then I’m going to be in a much better place. Taking some time out of my day to write recently has also been refreshing, so I’m starting to go back to writing more. Dunno if I’ll post everything I write since some of it is OC stuff, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll get courage to post it, though I’m not too sure yet. Anyways, enjoy the first part to my new AU! It’s more of an introduction to the AU and them meeting but I’ll figure story out soon (I hope)

Next

---

Tommy nervously wrung his hands as he paced the tiny room. He was thankful for the fact that he didn’t have to hunch over to walk or even have to crawl for once. Sure, he only had about two inches of space over his head, but it was more than he normally got, so he was thankful.

He had found rather quickly that most places apart from Earth were not suited for humans. Everything was small. Maybe, if he had known about this inconvenience he wouldn’t have volunteered to join an alien crewship all those years ago.

Tommy scowled at the thought of the past crewships he has been a part of. He’s been with many species but they only tolerated him for a month tops before “regretfully” releasing him from the crew, leaving him fumbling to find another crew or return to Earth. And at this point there was no way he’d willingly go back.

Right now he was waiting in an office at a landing dock on the last planet he was left on. He had managed to secure a position with a new crew and was waiting for them to come pick him up. Based on the comm interview they had it was a small and experienced crew, but it was their first time adding a new crew member since they formed. It seemed half of them were not pleased when the captain announced that they were having a new crewmate, let alone a human.

Humans were still a young species to the space community, and therefore a lot of aliens had yet to meet or even see a human in their lifetimes. Tommy found he was often invited to join crews only so the crew could meet a human. It felt degrading honestly.

The captain of the next crew, Captain Philza if he remembered correctly, hadn’t met a human properly, same with his crew, but he seemed to just want an extra set of hands on his ship. It was relieving to know he wasn’t being brought in to be ogled at… again.

A small knock sounded at the entrance of the door, a sound Tommy had learned to pick up quickly. He looked up to see the excitable hummingbird-like alien flitting around, a small tablet in one of her talons.

“Human Tommy! Your crew has arrived!” She flitted over to him and pressed against his cheek, making him laugh in surprise. “I’m gonna miss you! You better visit again! They better treat you right! I’ll fight them if they don’t! Do you have to go? Oh what am I saying? Of course you do! I just don’t want you to!”

Tommy reached up and stroked the strangely rough feathers on her neck, earning a happy trill from the secretary. “I’ll try, I’ll try! And if I get dumped, I’ll do my best to get dumped here again, just for you.”

Tommy walked out of the office, ducking to not hit his head on the heavy metal beams. The familiar buzzing of wings followed him as she let out a distressed chirp.

“No no no! No getting dumped again! I have high hopes! These are the ones! I just know it! They have to be your crew!” Tommy chuckled as he ducked into the landing area, sighing in relief at the much higher roof.

“We’ll see…” She didn’t seem to hear him as she continued moving towards the new ship. Tommy was grateful that the ship actually seemed pretty spacy. He got invited onto a small ship once, it was the one crew he had to leave without being dumped.

The hummingbird alien hovered by the door of the spaceship as the door opened. Tommy grinned and stepped forwards as Captain Philza flew towards the secretary. The two of them chirped out greetings in what Tommy knew was the common language among the avian aliens. 

Watching the two exchange idle small talk was interesting. Tommy was always in awe whenever he saw two aliens of the same species that had size differences like these. While the hummingbird alien could fit easily in the palm of one hand, it seemed Captain Philza seemed almost double her size, maybe bigger. Tommy figured he could hold him in two hands though.

Eventually the two of them switched to common, finally letting Tommy properly understand everything they were saying except for just snippets. He wasn’t quite well-versed on his avian yet, but he could understand some of it.

“While it has been wonderful meeting you, I think I and my crew would like to meet our new crew member. Is Tommy here…” The captain trailed off as his gaze settled on Tommy. Tommy grinned, keeping careful as to not show his teeth (he was not repeating the last incident) and raised a hand in greeting, taking a few steps forwards to properly greet his new captain.

It was painfully silent for a moment and Captain Philza studied him in what looked to be shock. Tommy’s face fell and he let his arm drop and the avian only continued to stare. They had comm calls, he knew what Tommy looked like. So it kind of hurt to see the captain staring at him like a strange new animal.

Eventually, Captain Philza turned to the secretary in what looked to be worry and panic. He glanced up at Tommy before leaning in and lowering his voice. The captain switched back to their native language as he whispered.

“Are all humans that tall? I thought they were smaller!” The hummingbird’s expression turned to be a bit annoyed, and she took a breath to retort, but Tommy beat her to it, annoyed himself.

“Is that going to be a problem, Captain?” He suddenly stood up straight with wide eyes, staring at Tommy in surprise. The captain let out a few stuttering chirps. “Yea, I can understand you. Might not be able to speak it, but I recognize the basics. If my size is going to be an issue, just leave me here so we don’t have to go through the trouble of finding another landing dock to drop me off at.”

The avian quickly shook off his shock, his features now replaced with worry. Tommy watched as the captain spread his wings and flew towards him. The human instinctively reached out two of his hands to be used as a landing platform, which the avian gratefully took, looking up at Tommy.

Tommy noted how his talons were even sharper than the hummingbird’s and he forced himself to hold back a wince as they dug into his skin. He’d have to invest in some new gloves and possibly some shoulder padding if Captain Philza decided he liked to perch all over him, like many avian aliens he’s met before.

“Not at all going to be a problem! I apologize if I sounded rude, that was not the case.” Tommy noted how the captain nervously left out the fact that he didn’t even think Tommy could understand him while speaking his native language, but he let it slide for the time being. “To be clear with you, I did know you were a bigger species. But I guess my crew and myself hadn’t done the right research because we thought you were approximately the size of our formerly biggest crewmate. And um…” The captain looked Tommy up and down in sheepish worry. “He may be only a little more than half your size, so we have to modify the quarters we set up for you.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at that. “Wait, I get my own room? You guys took the time to set up a room for me?” The captain looked distraught and shocked, and Tommy was positive he saw an underlayment of worry grace his features. His wings spread again and suddenly the alien was in his face, clawed hands gently grabbing his nose.

“Why in the cosmos does that surprise you?! Of course we set up a room for you! Why wouldn’t we-?” A saddened chirp sounded from behind them and the two glanced over at the hummingbird alien, now perched and fidgeting nervously. She gave the captain a pointed look and Tommy saw the realization dawn on Captain Philza’s face as he turned back to Tommy.

“The other crews you were a part of didn’t trust you, did they?” The avian’s wingbeats slowed a bit as Tommy glanced away and let out a small noise of confirmation. “This is why I don’t work with other crews, they’re bastards, all of them. Don’t worry mate, you’re one of us now.”

Tommy watched the captain fly away from his face and towards the ship, waving for Tommy to follow him. He couldn’t help but give the avian a hopeful smile as he followed and gave a small wave to the hummingbird before reaching the door of the spaceship where the captain was waiting for him with a giant grin on his face.

“Welcome to the family, mate.”

[spaciebabie]

yall who are not simps have GOT ta stop commenting on clearly simpy posts and acting like the people who are having fun are weirdos. i swear ta god its annoying and rude and im tired of going inta my notes and seeing those comments on my posts and on my mutuals posts. have some respect.

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

wild take: u n shuji are out n about at a park or a forest n he realizes then and there that the world looks so vibrant n pretty ever since he met u

Damn berry you got me, I went off. I love him so much. Sorry I took a year to do this. I did the dark sad shit bc of the shit mood lately. So thanks for the adorable scenario T.T and I typed this fully on my phone so I'm sure its like pretty fucky in spots. anyway here goes nothing:

Ikebukuro was a city through and through and Shuji was a city boy without a doubt, accustomed to the hustle and bustle of city life. His world was all neon signs and vivid storefronts and bright street fashion. He lived fast and was on track to die young when he met you by chance while photographing his cheetah print bike in an alleyway. Roughed up from a skirmish, he spotted you with it and scared you shitless with a gravelly "Oi,oi, fuck you think you're doin' over there?" and wave for you to walk his way, "punishment" on full display.

After some frantic explanations that you were just a novice photographer, he let you go free (and got a smug chuckle out of your doe eyed response to his phrasing). After the initial fear of a run-in with some kind of gangster, your country-side friendliness and naivete came back in full force and you asked for a picture of him with the bike.

"Me?" He'd asked but relented rather easily. You noticed a spacy look in his eye when you explained the contrast of the monotone framing here would work beautifully next to the brightness of the streets you had already captured. You handed him a pen and your favorite Polaroid for him to flap about in the air as it developed and then sign while you two sat in the alley. You gave him one precious photograph of his choice, signed with the date and your name and inspected the photo he signed for you: "ikebukuro, hanma shuji" and his phone number. Your cheeks heated instantly.

It was like you saw straight through him even at that first meeting. He was just a city boy living in monochrome monotony amongst the chaotic backdrop of the city. The artificial neon cast a gloomy halo to Hanma. Ikebukuro was his home but it also represented all the familial turmoil that turned his life grey.

It wouldn't be until you dragged him to your neck of the woods (literally) for a picnic to experience your world that you would fully understand the extent to which you understood and fit with him.

Preparing for a picnic with Hanma Shuji was a riot. He found your cutesy bento supplies and teased you relentlessly for them, (though he cut all of his watermelon into little bunnies, trying to line up seeds for the eyes). Luckily, you got photographic evidence of that adorable fucking smile on his face while he prepared it. Getting him to agree to more strenuous labor-- biking to your favorite trail-- was equally as comically difficult.

No, Shuji, we cannot take your bike to the trail.

Yes, Shuji it is necessary to ride the actual bikes there.

Fiiiiine, Shuji I'll carry the basket this time, I know those chicken legs are gonna struggle.

Oh that's so kind of you Shuji. Let me know if it's too much.

He took to the country side rather well. He wasn't sure if it was your influence or just the change of pace, but everything felt brighter. From the breeze on his skin creating swirling cloud scapes to the brush of pine needles across his skin painting orange and yellow streaks in his mind's eye. The dirt under his nails, the taste of fresh air in his tongue, the tickle of insects stomping across his skin all summoned a world of colors he didn't just see, but felt too. Sitting there, on a beat up picnic quilt, Shuji tilted his head back to bask in the pink and orange warmth of the sun through the trees.

"Enjoying yourself?" You chuckled.

After a long pause your city slicker companion spoke up, "Yeah...I think I am. It's beautiful out here. I've never felt color like this." There was a careful weight to each word you weren't used to hearing from Hanma Shuji, the kid Yakuza. His sincerity cut through his playfully violent (yes, playfully violent) exoskeleton and revealed a glimpse of the uncertain boy underneath.

"Felt?" It was a bit of an odd choice of words.

He started slowly, unsure of how to handle the exposed feeling of emotional vulnerability, "You know, the feeling of being out here, it feels so bright and colorful," The words left his mouth like a verbal shrug.

Sensing his hesitance and deciding not to press him further, you nodded, "I'm glad, Shuji." A hesitant, awkward hand reached for yours. His thumb stiffly swiped over the back of your spread hand on the blanket and Shuji's eyes clouded with the hues of a countryside sunset. You made his life colorful. His entire perspective shifted and his feelings flowed more calmly since you painted his life in color. He didn't know how to tell you that just yet, he needed time to sort out the words. But you were there to give him time and patience, and in just a few weeks of knowing you he know he couldn't let you go.

[i-love-ninjago-kai]

Yes, hello, if you don't mind, do you have any non-popular Kai head-cannons to share please?

Hey! Sure, why not!

Let's see... It's hard to think of stuff that is particularly un-popular off the top of my head, but let's see what I can come up with.

Okay here's some rapid fire bullet point ones to play with

Kai is a pretty good cook? Zane is still the kind of the kitchen, but Kai, out of necessity, has some pretty well-practiced skills of his own.

Going off of that, Kai and Skylor frequently have dinner dates where they cook together.

Kai is the most skilled fighter, (Not the strongest, but the best in terms of hand-to-hand, weapons wise, it's pretty even. Also, that's not a good thing, mans is paranoid about his strength and trains a dangerous amount.)

Actually enjoys reading and learning, when he realizes that he actually has time to now that he's not the sole breadwinner.

His crazy hair is NATURAL!!!!! I have RECIEPTS OKAY! He is literally the picture of angsty anime protag with uncontrollable hair like you could do SO MUCH with that--

Very spacy handwriting. not necessarily bad handwriting, but you can tell he doesn't write for fun. (In case you are wondering, Nya's is terrible.)

Spends WAYYY less time on his phone after s6. He doesn't remember any of it, but he just feels something wrong, and decides he doesn't actually like that much attention.... Also I will die on the "Kai is an old man who HATES technology" hill.

MOMMY AND DADDY ISSUES BABY! (This will be fully explored in my fic that may come out one day)

I'm sorry but that angry bitter kid got into hella fights as a kid. He may have to take care of his littler sister and make all the money, but he's got a TON of bottled up aggression, and hoho those schoolboys who bully Nya are the perfect target!

Kais hair is surprisingly soft and fluffy

Here's a few ones that I decided to go into more detail on, read if you like!

Obvious one is that Kai is actually quite intelligent. I've talked about this countless times, so I won't repeat stuff like a broken record.

But, we do see countless times that Kai is one of the smartest characters in the show. Generally, I write it more in the instincts corner of intelligence, since that's the most we see in canon, but I don't think Kai is nearly as academically stunted as people often hc.

Like, yes, the kid had to raise his sister, so rationally that leaves very little room for his own personal education. But, we do also see in canon that Kai is an extremely fast learner (Literally learns to be a ninja in like a week).

It would be in Kai's best interest to at least make a small effort to keep up with his studies, to the best of his ability. Gotta know how to do math to pay the bills every month, yeah?

Kai also has a profound respect for history and tradition, which he has to have READ SOMEWHERE!

Anyway, tangent. Just because Kai is selfless and reckless doesn't equal dumb blah blah you've all heard this before.

More under the cut for the safety of mobile readers (praying emoji I'm on my desktop)

Hmmmm..... Another one would probably be that Kai is Lloyd's right-hand man. Yeah, I know, it's canon that Kai is the group's "Over-protective Big Brother" but I'm talking about like, Kai is Lloyd's first mate if they were pirates.

I will fully admit that Lloyd and Nya have a very similar bond, but, at least in my personal interpretation, their bond has a lot to do with the fact that they are the two youngest members of the team, so they can relate to each other.

But Kai and Lloyd directly parallel each other in a lot of ways that fit that partner dynamic a lot better. Kai is consistently the one who tells Lloyd when he is being stupid. Ah, not stupid exactly, but Kai tells him the hard truth, when most of his friends water it down.

Lloyd sees the best in people, even when they don't deserve it. Kai is the opposite. Kai isn't the motivational, awe-inspiring leader that Lloyd is, but he is the objective one.

He is what he has always been, the one who is there, the one who steps up when he needs to.

Kai has multiple quotes (and actions to back them up) along the lines of "Well I'm not going to wait for someone to call for help." He's not slow to act, or even the type to wait on a plan like Lloyd. He's the "The world is in grave danger, and we need to act now."

He balances Lloyd out in his utter urgency.

Idk, I could talk about it more but I don't want to babble so lets move on.

Hope this is what you were wanting!

[actuallyadhd]

Hi!! How r u? So, I kinda think i may have adhd? i tend not notice time flying by when im interested in something (eg. biological fitness of yersinia pestis) and i can get real spacy if i find something boring. I also tend to forget or mess stuff up even if I was paying attention eg. my ballet teacher showed a sequence and i payed attention but i still manage to mess it up somehow, but at the same time i never had trouble with school and actually quite enjoy it and my mom says i have good focus

Sent April 15, 2021

These examples are totally normal things for most people. Everyone can get so absorbed in something they’re interested in that they totally blank on the passage of time. Everyone spaces out when things are boring. Everyone makes mistakes, even when they’re paying attention. And ADHD is much more than just difficulty with focus and attention. So I can’t really say.

HOWEVER! If you are struggling with something, you 100% deserve to find out what’s going on so you can get help to deal.

As your first step, have a look at our self-diagnosis post (https://actuallyadhd.tumblr.com/post/117637029570/adhd-self-diagnosis), and then if you still think ADHD is a possibility, talk to your parents about the difficulties you’re having and ask if they can help you get assessed. Do that anyway if you’re struggling.

-J

[carcinized]

Hey hey hey I don’t have Tumblr BUT I saw your post about C!Tubbo dissociation headcanons and here I am, asking for them. And possibly more C!Tubbo headcanons. Preferably angsty. Just. Any of them. Please. Thank you.

oh, a fellow starved c!tubbo enthusiast. hello there, i do have some headcannons to spare luckily, hope you enjoy!! mostly this is the dissociation ones but i have some miscellaneous ones & songs at the end for you :]

so obviously uhhh tw for dissociation/depersonalisation/derealisation in this post!!! also going to put them under the cut bc this is long lmao

oh and disclaimer: this is very much based off my own experiences with (near constant) chronic dissociation so it might be different from other experiences!! yeah.

oh ALSO this is disorganized and probably missing stuff because i am going through a bad bout of spaciness as of right now, so apologies if anything is confusing, feel free to ask for clarification!

idk background timeline stuff so it fits into the story

at first he didn’t even realize he felt disconnected from things. it started off as a coping mechanism during combat and felt so similar to the feeling of being “in the zone” he’d known before that he didn’t question it

after a bit, it spread from only being there during battle to during conflict in general. still, he didn’t mind it—it actually made arguments more bearable because they felt almost secondhand.

eventually he came to use it as a crutch so much that it became constant.

that was when he started wanting it to go away.

and then because i can’t bear to give my precious c!tubbo constant dissociation he probably gets breaks from it sometimes idk lmao

his experiences:

gaps in memory

auditory processing issues

lots of depersonalisation and not recognizing himself in the mirror (which is even more fun/terrifying if you add in shapeshifter headcannons)

a lot of the time he feels like his actions aren’t his, which helped him to feel less bad doing morally ambiguous things (spying, exiling tommy, hunting technoblade, etc)

after it all he was left with near constant dissociation almost all the time.

it nearly always feels like the world is secondhand to him and he has no control/impact (ironic considering the power he has, and he knows that, but)

often wonders if he is dreaming and just waiting to wake up from a coma he’d gotten from one of his many battles.

when things get really bad he wishes he could just wake up from it.

often doesn’t recognize his hands looking down at them, especially with the burns he has now. they’re not his hands, right? but they are. they’re his hands. huh.

uhhh examples of where it could have been shown in plot if you squint lol

for example, that famous clip of him dancing while wilbur and tommy argue in the background would be a physical representation of him zoning out (dissociating) to get out of/away from an argument.

the whole yes man thing could have either been an auditory processing issue where he replied yes to wilbur without hearing what wilbur had asked OR a gap in memory where he didn’t remember telling tommy the opposite

he pulled away for like 5 months into snowchester and talked to hardly anyone but his husband and son. dissociation is hard to interact with people during because you feel so isolated for so many reasons—sometimes you feel you’re the only real thing there, sometimes it feels there’s a glass wall between you and everything else that IS real. and even ignoring that, most people can’t relate to feeling that way, leaving you even more alone. he could have pulled away because it was too much too keep going through that (i did that don’t recommend it tubbo JSJD)

miscellaneous headcannons that i don’t see very often:

after winning a battle, his instinct is to play a disc and look out at the sunset because that’s what he and tommy always did (see his lore yesterday (june 18th)—he did it with ranboo despite tommy not being there)

i’m rather fond of my original-l’manberg-citizens-consider-haircuts-and-fixing-up-appearances-affectionate-because-wilbur-did-it headcannon so i’ll add that here—basically wilbur gave everyone military cuts and new suits and everything. and while that was just for war, it was also because he cared about all of them. ever since, they all considered fixing up someone’s appearance an act of love.

tubbo refused to let anyone cut his hair after the red festival, not trusting anyone. he would probably let ranboo do it now, only he’s rather attached to the way it hides his burns and some of his horns and keeps him warm in the freezing snow.

he builds walls like how tommy builds cobblestone towers—a reflex, a coping mechanism, a habit. he built the l’manberg walls and ever since the defense has been second nature, whether for the best or the worst.

ive been waiting forever to share these i have way too many. i pass the hours staring out the window listening to misterwives and imagining c!tubbo animatics to it and now i have a chance to share them oh my god

so without further ado,

c!tubbo animatics i have in my head:

whywhywhy by misterwives: ok this one isn’t chalked out but it has him vibes

alone by misterwives: just him and ranboo. figuring things out. helping each other heal. i legitimately have an entire animatic in my head to this lyric by lyric and could make a fucking storyboard for it if only i could draw. if anyone wants me to write out lyric by lyric what it WOULD be though feel free to send an ask aHAHHAHAHA

over the rainbow by misterwives: a montage of c!tubbo just. finally going apeshit. that would be so cathartic alright and it’s such a badass song he deserves it

it’s my turn by misterwives: pretty much any times that tubbo finally got to do something back at someone who wronged him—the butcher army going after technoblade, him yelling at quackity about borders saying “well don’t i get to put my foot down too?” the lyrics “i know you’ve got your version of the story, i’m sick of saying sorry, i’m sick of always having to explain” during his spy arc PLEASE he had to justify everything he did and the “are you happier?” comment and schlatt breathing down his neck aAAAA give my boy a break (also the instrumental uses a lemon demon-type sound which makes me think of ranboo so i love imagining a cool bee dup building the outpost montage there snhshagahffn)

find my way home by misterwives: idk the vibes just fit man

oxygen by misterwives: hhhrnggg clingy duo angst oW

i did say i spend a lot of my time listening to misterwives and daydreaming c!tubbo animatics didn’t i?

anyways yeah. here’s some c!tubbo content to help us poor starved c!tubbo enthusiasts :’D also misterwives propaganda go listen to them female led band with a fucking badass lead singer with banger songs and incredible vocals and lyrics ANYWAY

[wingsofhcpe]

whumptober day 3- "who did this to you"

fandom: shadow & bone

pairing: fivan [ivan x fedyor kaminsky]

rating: T+

additional warnings: injury, discrimination against Grisha

you can also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34208404

[tagging @camilleisback upon request <3]

Fedyor had hoped he could make it to his and Ivan’s shared chambers without making too much of a fuss. It was an hour past midnight, after all- by all accounts, Ivan should be asleep. Then again, Fedyor wasn’t known for being late, and although Ivan knew he’d been assigned some errands at the Grand Palace that evening, he couldn’t have possibly thought Fedyor’s duties would last so late into the night. So there was little chance that Ivan would not notice him returning to begin with. As for what Ivan’s reaction would be when he saw the state his partner was currently in, well… That was going to be a little harder to hide.

He groaned a little, shifting his injured arm closer to his side, then wincing as it pressed against the already-forming bruises there. Great, there was no way Ivan wasn’t going to notice this, even if he hadn’t been limping from one side as well.

Fedyor let out a small sigh of relief when he finally stopped outside the polished mahogany door to their rooms. He took a deep breath -and regretted it a moment later as the movement served to aggravate the pain at his ribs and chest- and clumsily shouldered his way through the door.

The bedroom was lit only by a candle on Ivan’s nightstand, but the flickering golden glow was enough for Fedyor to detect his partner sitting up on their bed, heartbeat already spiking with frustration and worry.

“Where were you?!” Ivan asked, all but throwing himself out of the bed and stalking up to Fedyor, who only gave him a sheepish smile after carefully closing the door behind him.

“I, ah, something came up.” There was no point in trying to hide his injuries from Ivan, but he could at least gain some time before he’d have to explain them. Although it seemed like there wasn’t much point in trying to do even that; Ivan’s eyes widened, picking up on Fedyor’s erratic, pained heartbeat. Even if he hadn’t been a Heartrender, the dark red and purple bruises on the side of Fedyor’s face would have been a dead giveaway without the need of more light than what the candle provided.

“You’re hurt!” Ivan all but exclaimed, anger and concern writing themselves all over his unshaven face. He lifted a hand and lay it over Fedyor’s good arm, using his powers to examine the extent of his lover’s injuries. As soon as he became aware of it, he let out a small gasp.

“Fedyor- how?”

“It’s nothing, really. I just… need to lie down.” Fedyor murmured, blinking sudden stars away from his field of vision. Now that he was home safe, he abruptly realised how hard it really was to keep himself standing. He stumbled, and Ivan caught him and helped him stay upright.

“Fedya.” Ivan repeated his name, although this time his voice was gentle. “Tell me what happened. Who did this to you, my love?”

He led them both towards the bed, and Fedyor groaned quietly as Ivan helped him sit on it. Saints, everything hurt. “I, uh, I run into some young otkazat’sya soldiers in the Grand Palace. They were… quite inebriated, and I suppose the sight of a high-ranking Grisha at their midst wasn’t welcome at all. Especially after the devastating losses their side suffered on the Shu-Han front last week.”

“Did they dare raise a hand against you?” Ivan’s tone was clipped, and Fedyor could feel the fury that surged through him at the realisation. He winced.

“Ivan, it’s no big deal. They’re just children. They’re scared, really. I was just a scapegoat they could let their fear out on.”

“You’re not a punching bag! So they did beat you up? Unprovoked?” Ivan had leaned closer, eyes examining the bruises on Fedyor’s face. His thumb gingerly brushed over a cut below the latter’s eye. Fedyor let out a small huff.

“Well… yeah, sort of.” He shrugged, then immediately regretted it and groaned. “Ow. I tried to ignore them and just walk away but, well… one of them just grabbed my arm, turned me around and straight up punched me. The rest happened too fast.”

Ivan’s brow furrowed further. “You didn’t fight back? You could have used your powers on them.”

“You know that’s not me. And anyway, even if I wanted to use my powers, I would only be proving their point.” Fedyor said defeatedly. “I tried to fight them hand to hand, but it was seven of them and one of me. I did pretty well though, all things considered. I think one of them may find it particularly hard to produce an offspring if he so desires.”

Ivan’s expression finally relaxed just a margin, and a small smirk played at his thin lips.

“That’s my Fedya.” He murmured proudly, bending in and pressing a chaste kiss on Fedyor’s lips. There was dried blood where a well-placed punch had split the skin, and it stung, but Fedyor didn’t mind. He kissed back slowly, enjoying the comfort Ivan’s presence brought him. He had been scared, even though he would never admit it- he hadn’t known how far the First Army soldiers had been willing to take it, and while it was rare, it wasn’t unheard of for a Grisha to be killed by an otkazat’sya in such incidents (although to be perfectly fair, the opposite was a much more frequent occurrence). But now he was home, safe, sitting next to Ivan, his Vanya. It would be alright.

Ivan drew back a few moments later, but his eyes lingered worriedly on Fedyor. “We should get you to a Healer.”

“No!” Fedyor had to restrain himself from shouting, his eyes widening with worry. “Listen, Vanya- I’ll have to give an explanation of how I ended up like that if we go. And, well, I’ll have to give the General a list of names or rank numbers or just a description. You know what they do to otkazat’sya soldiers that as much as stare at one of us funny.”

“I damn well know, but it’s what they deserve.” Ivan’s voice was harsh. “Fedya, they could have killed you. I’m sure they would have, if they could’ve gotten away with it. Why are you protecting them?”

“Because…” Fedyor looked down at his hands. “Because they’re children. They were, what, sixteen? I don’t want one mistake to ruin their lives, Ivan.”

“It would have been a mistake if they cussed or spit at you.” Ivan snapped angrily. “But they beat you black and blue. As a group nonetheless. This isn’t a mistake- it’s prejudice. It’s hatred. We can’t allow them to get away with this kind of behaviour against our people.”

“I know, I know. But… I still think they should be given the chance to learn. To do better. To become better and unlearn their hate, rather than just die for something that has probably been drilled into them by people older and stronger than them.” Fedyor said quietly. “You know… you were raised to hate the Grisha, too. You would have been a druskelle, had you not discovered your gift early enough. And when you first came here, you despised us, and you despised yourself for what you were. But you unlearned it. You realised everything you’ve been taught was wrong. Shouldn’t they be given the same chance?”

“That was different.” Ivan hissed, but his voice didn’t hold the same amount of conviction as it did earlier. “I am Grisha. I knew I was, when I unlearned this mentality. I had to, because the world would hate me whether I accepted myself or not.”

“You don’t know they won’t be facing similar issues in the future.” Fedyor countered fiercely. “Maybe one of their younger siblings will be revealed to have a gift. Or maybe one of them has went untested and they will discover they themselves are Grisha. Anyway, I’ll speak to their superiors privately come morning. I don’t want this to spread to more people on either side. I’m not excusing them and I’m not protecting them, Ivan, I’m protecting all of us, and all of theirs. There are many soldiers in the First Army that accept us and view us as equals, as human beings. You know they’ll be in danger, should word of conflict spread among the Grisha. They’ll want payback, and you can’t guarantee that their victims will be the ones responsible for what happened to me. Besides, if this escalates, more Grisha will also be endangered.”

Fedyor paused to catch his breath and steady his hands, that had began to tremble slightly. It wasn’t as if he weren’t angry or scared out of his wits- he was. But he knew all too well, that violence only bred more violence. It would benefit neither the Grisha nor the otkazat’sya, if each side’s soldiers suddenly turned on each other and began to tear at each other’s throats like rabid dogs.

Ivan must have finally understood, too, because his grip on Fedyor’s wrist relaxed, and his shoulders slumped. He let out a frustrated growl.

“Fine. I suppose you have a point.” He relented, but his features were still pinched with worry. “But, anyway. Someone still has to patch you up.”

Fedyor allowed himself a small, relieved sigh. “Well, that’s why I have you.”

Ivan snorted out a little laugh. “You’re incorrigible. Come, let’s go to the bathroom. I don’t want to make a mess of the bed and then have to clean that up, too. If that’s alright with you, I would prefer to get some sleep tonight.”

One of the advantages to being two of General Kirigan’s most favoured soldiers, was that their living quarters were a little more spacy than the other soldiers’. Unlike most of the other Grisha, they didn’t need to share the banya with everyone else; they had running water available in their room, and could clean up themselves there if they preferred to have some privacy. It was a useful thing under many different situations -such as uninterrupted moments of affection when they washed after a particularly dangerous mission- and Fedyor guessed that wanting to clean and patch each other’s wounds up without alerting anyone else, was no exception.

“Here.” Ivan led him to a stool next to the bathtub, then helped him sit. Fedyor bit his already-bleeding lip to hold back a pained whimper as he sat, and Ivan’s hand immediately squeezed his own in a silent gesture of comfort. Fedyor squeezed back feebly, then let Ivan pull away as the latter rummaged around the small room for various medical supplies; clear strips of cloth, a bottle of disinfectant, bandages and a healing salve provided by a Fabrikator friend. He set all of it down on the floor before turning the water on. He waited until it had become sufficiently warm and then soaked a piece of cloth in it, and turned to face Fedyor.

“Take off your kefta, yes?” Ivan said firmly but without the usual bite to his commanding tone. Fedyor swallowed and nodded, shrugging awkwardly and trying to take the aforementioned piece of clothing off without jostling his injured arm too much. In the end he failed, and let out a small cry as he tried to stretch his arm to the side and pull it out of the sleeve. Ivan was immediately on his feet, having temporarily discarded the washcloth by the tub.

“Let me help.” He murmured in a low, comforting tone, his hands resting on Fedyor’s shoulders. Fedyor took a deep, steadying breath and yielded to Ivan’s ministrations; he knew that if he made any further attempts to remove his clothes by himself, it would only be a waste of time.

Once the kefta, undershirt and pants were out of the way, Ivan’s eyes darkened with worry. Fedyor supposed he couldn’t blame him this time- his entire left side, his back and his chest were badly bruised, and his right arm was bent at a strange angle that didn’t look at all natural. Less extensive bruising blossomed down his shoulders and arms, even his legs, especially over and around his right knee. Ivan clicked his tongue.

“I don’t care how much of a pacifist you want to be about this, Fedya. I’m going to find the bastards that did this to you and make them regret the day they slid out of their mother’s cu-“

“Alright, alright.” Fedyor waved his good hand placatingly. “I truly appreciate the anger on my behalf, Vanya. But for now, let’s just get done with it. You’re not the only one who can’t wait to get to bed for the night.”

Ivan growled under his breath, clearly not giving up on his aspirations of revenge, and Fedyor decided that maybe that wasn’t so bad. Ivan could teach a lesson to the perpetrators without the incident spreading further behind the lines of Grisha and otkazat’sya alive. It wasn’t the best possible solution, but Fedyor had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t mind watching if Ivan decided to make true on his word. He disliked answering violence with violence (barring extreme cases, such as facing a group of druskelle), but he was only human, and most humans have a petty streak to them. He was no exception.

Still, he decided to worry about it in the morning. For the moment, he allowed himself to relax under Ivan’s care, as the latter gently wiped the blood off his nose and lips, and dabbed at the cut under his eye. Fedyor caught Ivan’s eyes and smiled thankfully, which earned him a tender look and another squeeze of the hand.

“Let me see your arm?” Ivan asked after a few minutes, during which he had applied some of the healing salve across the worst of Fedyor’s bruises. Fedyor had been unable to restrain a deep groan of relief as Ivan’s fingers had gently massaged the salve onto his injuries; the discomfort receded almost immediately, the herbs contained into the salve having a cooling effect that soothed the throbbing pain. It wasn’t completely gone, but he already felt much better, and was able to stretch out his arm for Ivan to examine.

“Ow!” Fedyor yelped the following instant, glaring at Ivan as the other Heartrender’s fingers prodded at the swollen area around his elbow. “That hurt!”

“That’s what worries me.” Ivan grunted, displeasure evident in his voice. “There’s a fracture, I think. It’s not too bad, so we don’t need a Healer. I’ll bandage it, but you’ll have to use a sling for a while, and it’s going to keep hurting for at least a week.”

“It’s okay.” Fedyor sighed tiredly. At that point he didn’t care- he only wanted this to be done so they could both go to bed. “I’m sure we have painkillers somewhere around here. I’ll take some and sleep it off.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to sleep for a week?”

“You know I’m more than capable.”

Ivan cleared his throat, but Fedyor knew he was trying to hide a laugh. He smiled, too. For all that had happened that night, he didn’t feel too horrible- not when Ivan was next to him. He just felt exhausted and a little crestfallen. But that was life, and life was usually tough. He had learned that lesson early enough. All he could do was shoulder it, smile and press on. He was good at it, too. He had learned how to be.

Ivan finished up a few minutes later, after taking a quick look at Fedyor’s knee. The swelling and bruising were bad, but he could detect no fractures, so he just talked Fedyor out of walking for a few days. Which, Fedyor suspected, wasn’t going to be a problem. He didn’t plan on leaving their bed, not unless Kirigan came and dragged him out by his ear.

“You deserve a few days off.” Ivan agreed when Fedyor voiced that thought. “But the General is going to ask questions. I thought you didn’t want him to know what happened.”

“I don’t.” Fedyor admitted as Ivan helped him to bed. He lay down with a groan and shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable position, where his arm and side wouldn’t hurt quite so bad. He’d already gulped down half a bottle’s worth of painkilling herbal pills, but it would be a while until they kicked in. “Just tell him I’m sick. I can pretend if I need to.”

Ivan rolled his eyes as he blew out the candle, and slipped under the covers next to Fedyor. “I know you can. You used to do it all the time to get out of training with Baghra, when we were young.”

Fedyor flashed him a shadow of his usual cheeky grin. “I was quite good at it.”

He shifted again, until he was laying flush against Ivan’s side, his aching arm stretched across his lover’s broad chest. Ivan hummed softly and pressed a tender kiss on Fedyor’s temple.

“Sleep.” He said. “Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow didn’t sound very far off, all things considered. It had already been late when Fedyor had first stumbled in the room, and with all the talking and the time Ivan spent treating his injuries, another two hours had gone by. Under normal circumstances, they would be waking up in three more hours, but Fedyor trusted Ivan to let him sleep in this once. So he forced all miserable thoughts out of his mind and quelled the fear that had caught fire inside of him from the moment he had first encountered the otkazat’sya in the Grand Palace. He was home now, behind high walls, nestled within his husband’s arms. He was safe. They both were. They’d always be safe, so long as they had each other.

So Fedyor told himself that everything was alright. That he wasn’t scared out of his wits, and that he wasn’t in pain. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him, while he clung to Ivan’s steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat as if it was the gentlest of lullabies.

[yoongisnoona]

Character Overviews: Boys

Name: Seokjin Age: 27 Shifter: Lion Area: Rosewych Family: Jimin (Brother) Taehyung (Half Brother) Father, Mother, Grandma, Grandad Job: Cafe Owner, Heir to the Pride Hair colour: Blond & Pink Eye colour: Grey Hair Length and Style: Short & Wavy Persona: Likes food probably a little too much and loves to cook. Even though he is the eldest alpha therefore heir to the Pride, he still likes to take care of everyone and takes time to mother hen them, especially his younger brothers. He can come off as over confident, but is very insecure about himself and whether he can make his future mate happy, not to mention whether he can take care of the Pride once his father hands the reins as Alpha over to him. Can get embarrassed quite easily, which comes to great amusement of Taehyung and Jimin who love to tease their older brother.

Name: Yoongi Age: 26 Shifter: Wolf Area: Wedgewood Family: Jungkook (Brother), Mother, Father (Who doesnt live w/) Job: Composer Hair colour: Mint, Blond & Black Eye colour: Muddy Green Hair Length and Style: Short and straight with a few waves throughout Persona: Yoongi can come off as Possessive and Aggressive, and tends to be suspicious of everyone that comes near his mother and brother. Its to be expected, given the circumstances of his relationship with his father. When comfortable, he can seem lazy, but he’s always on alert. Wants to do right by his mother and brother. Feels he failed them because he took them from their pack as they had to run away because of his father. Wants to be a better alpha and strives to improve himself.

Name: Hoseok Age: 25 Shifter: Fox Area: Wedgewood Family: Dahye (sister), Namjoon (Brother) Mother, Father, Grandma. Job: Dance Instructor/ choreographer Hair colour: Red/Orange Eye colour: Black Hair Length and Style: Short, Wavey: Persona: Enjoys to dance, can be very loud. Tends to be a bit of an empath, though that tends to be a thing thats all through the 3 siblings.Has a smile that can cheer anyone up. Confidence has been kicked down from one too many girls using him to get to Namjoon. Which also makes him a little less trusting. Adores his family however and will do almost anything to protect them and the Skulk.

Name: Namjoon Age: 25 Shifter: Fox Area: Wedgewood Family: Dahye (Sister) Hoseok (Brother) Mother Father Grandma Job: History Teacher in Secondary School (High school), Heir to the Skulk Hair colour: Blue and purple towards the end Eye colour: Black Hair Length and Style: short, straight with waves throughout Persona: Stupidly smart, But is accident prone as hell. Loves to read. Loves music, composes songs when not learning about the proper way to lead the Skulk from his dad. Can be kinda awkward when talking to a girl he likes. Wants to be the best leader he can be. Constantly worrying about his brother and sister as they tend to have habits of getting in trouble.

Name: Jimin Age: 24 Shifter: Lion Area: Rosewych Family: Seokjin (Brother) Taehyung (Half Brother) Mother Father Grandma Grandad Job: Dance Teacher Secondary school (High School) Hair colour: Silver, changes to red Eye colour: Grey Hair Length and Style: Short, Curtains fringe, straight mainly Persona: Loves to dance. Can appear quite timid but is actually very kind and caring. Though he can be competitive and stubborn. Is a little insecure about himself as an Alpha. Feels he's inadequate compared to his brothers as he's not as tall as Jin and feels that he's not as strong as Tae. He knows he’s attractive (as all of the Lion Brothers) and is a little vain because of it. Will overwork himself too much, hasn’t figured out when to stop pushing himself.

Name: Taehyung Age: 24 Shifter: Lion/Fox Mixed Area: Rosewych Family: Seokjin (Half Brother) Jimin (Half Brother) Mother Father Grandma Grandad Job: Game Developer (Part Time Hacker) Hair colour: Blue to Black Eye colour: Heterochromia, grey eye, gold eye Hair Length and Style: Short mid short anyways, semi curly Persona: Growing up being bullied about his status as a Half and Half, has messed with his confidence a bit. However his father has always been there for him, even though he’s not his birth father, raised him as his own. Tae has a lot of respect for his father. Wants to be just as great of an alpha as he is. Can be a bit spacy at times and seems like he doesnt know whats going on, but he is extremely observant.

Name: Jungkook Age: 22 Shifter: Wolf Area: Wedgewood Family: Yoongi (brother) Mother Father (who doesnt live w/) Job: Police Trainee Hair colour: Burgandy & Brown Eye colour: Blue Hair Length and Style: mid length (think long hair kookie) straightens, though naturally has a bit of curl. Persona: Quiet, Loves to game. Feels he failed his brother because he wasn’t a strong enough Alpha to protect their mother and himself. Wants to grow stronger and Protect his family as much as his brother has done for him. Can get frustrated easily and cannot control his temper. Tends to lash out when he doesnt mean it. Also has a stubborn streak meaning he doesn’t always apologise after. Can be very shy around girls