#but also tag your shit. you know that pinned post is flashing & eye straining and can induce a seizure. why are you not tagging it properly

[martyrbat]

okay its been a hour and i still have a migraine and am lethargic & twitchy so. its great you have a pinned post saying as a general warning your blog isnt seizure safe and to be careful. but when your warning is surrounded by rapidly flashing banners and eye straining colors and without the post itself being properly tagged for those, it does fucking nothing. saying look at your pinned post in your bio before following you and it being the direct trigger you're trying to warn against (and that warning being AFTER a long thing with personal information and underneath the triggering gifs instead of on top) is super misguided and dangerous to anyone that has epilepsy.

[minotaur-asterion]

Pinned post!! (YIPPEE)

About me

I go by Asterion or Dice, or even Minotaur if you wanna be super polite, I have no particular preference

I use he/they/it/neos/nounselves (caw/crow/crows/crowself - coo/dove/doves/doveself), you can use any of these and even get creative with the pronouns! kiss/my/ass, attack/helicopter (I imagine just alternate between the two), the funnier the better. I also use masculine and gender neutral language

I’m catkin, I stick my paws under your door and scream loudly

Filled with so much autism soup and ADHD, erm… broth. ADHD broth. Yes

I can’t say I’m shy any more because I’m trying to be friendlier 😭 I am so so so friendly and silly and you should stick your fingers between the bars of my cage

Tags

In the maze: Silly shit that comes to mind or posts I don’t deem “fandom”-y enough to go into another tag

Bird interest: I like birds :^)

Butterfly interest: I like butterflies ;^3

Dialtown fanart: Specific Dialtown characters are tagged accordingly

Slay the Princess fanart: Specific characters are tagged accordingly. But if you’re looking for older art.. good luck soldier

Listening Carefully: Ask tag

Other tags: TW violent imagery, suggestive, Minotaur mention, mecore, fic stuff, sneak peek (works in progress, mostly screenshots of current fics), whump, TW slay yourself

Other things

My eyes fucking SCREAM when I see bright colors and shit so I don’t usually post/reblog eye strain or flashing lights but those should be tagged, please let me know if I miss any!

This blog is kind of sort of horny, so sex-repulsed people, tread lightly

Most of my posts are silly shit

You should totally tag me in posts with bird pictures :^)

I’m also on AO3 if you want my sleep-deprived/carefully crafted but incomprehensible Olandy + STP Voices fanfiction

I enjoy Dialtown, Slay the Princess, Inscryption, Minecraft, Pokémon, FNAF, Wobbledogs, Niche: A Genetics Survival Game, Wytchwood, weird ass mammals and birds, and (checks writing on hand) … egg

TERFs and proshippers DNI! Block me and move on girl

[chyrstis]

Self-Indulgent Sunday /WIP Wednesday

Okay, I’m just going to break even here and do a two-for-one entry. XD

Tagged by the lovely @fadedjacket @scarlettkat86 and @fluttyseed I’d love to pass a few tags along for both categories above, and you’re welcome to choose whichever ones you’ll have more fun with, if not both.

Tagging: @sharky-broshaw @amistrio @shallow-gravy @tommymillers @softmillers @ma-sulevin @narcis-the-monk @redroci @shellibisshe @painterofhorizons @finefeatheredgamer @teamhawkeye @geronimo-11 @marymay-fairgrave @risenlucifer @faithchel @raisinghellinotherworlds @ofravensandgenesis @mackie-hattwie @strafethesesinners and anyone else that’s interested! <3

First off, some Hana/Sharky, b/c I might’ve been working on more for this section waaaay down the line today, and though I’ve posted the part right after this, I thought it’d be good to post the first part of it too (and I don’t think I have yet?, but if I have whoops, and if not, excellent). I’m always weak for these two, and really should get on writing more for them, stat.

--

“What’s-what, what are we-?” Sharky’s head perked up the minute he caught sight of her. “Oh, uh…hey Dep. Wasn’t thinking-didn’t think I’d see you ‘til morning.”

“I got in early, and I-”

His relieved grin made her trip over her next words. Even half-asleep like this his smile warmed her to her very bones, and nearly told him that outright.

“I, um, I couldn’t wait to see how my favorite guy was doing. Just wanted to see if you were actually getting any shuteye in, and didn’t think you’d be all the way out here.”

“Cabin was full-up, and while I can dig that for a while it’s just…a guy’s gotta have some space, man.” Sharky yawned, stretching his arms out, and ran a hand through his hair once he was able to recover from it. “Ground’s also ass compared to a bed or the truck, but…it works.”

“It’s also cold as hell out here, and I was thinking-”

Even half-asleep like this, he seemed to snap to attention. Unzipping the entire bag, he lifted it up for her.

She’d been ready to drag him back to the cabin. To carve out a space with the others and find a way to make it work, because there really was no reason for him to stick it out here alone. Not with a roaring fire being offered up indoors, and four walls surrounding them.

But she knew what was waiting for her back there. Where she’d stay up, thinking about too much already, before adding alcohol to the problem. All of this without him.

And she’d done enough of that over the past week. She’d done enough of it to decide she didn’t want to do it ever again.

Quickly zipping the tent flap back into place – nearly busting it in the process – she peeled off her jacket and unlaced her boots before slipping in next to him. He shifted back to allow her to, fitting her back against his chest, and nearly sighed at the change in temperature once she settled into his arms.

---

Then the No-Cult AU, b/c really this is my self-indulgent Sunday entry right here. It’s been practically writing itself since last Wednesday, all b/c the idea struck while I was sitting at my dentist’s appointment. Sharky’s off working on something fun with Hurk, and John has a question to ask.

---

Something buzzed right at his hip, making him start as he swept the dirt up, and nearly tipped it over onto himself. Stabbing the shovel into the pile next to him, he scrubbed his hands off on his jeans, and dug his phone out.

John. That had him raising an eyebrow, and as soon as he read the message, the second one joined it.

Color one, or color two?

“Wha..?”

Sharky stared down at the text, scrunching up his face as he read and re-read the words until the next set of messages popped up.

Two squares one by one, both red.

Okay, this had to be a mistake of some kind. He’d been thinking that after the first text, and now with this sitting in front of him, he was left scratching his head over it long enough for John to send something else.

Either or, or neither?

dude its red

Clearly, but I’m undecided on the shade of paint I want to use, and thought your opinion might sway me.

Shit, so John did mean to text him after all, but the last thing he’d slapped a coat of paint on was his flamethrower, and he doubted John was looking for any pointers on something like that.

yea cuz im someone thats got an eye for this kinda shit

Possibly better than you think. And I thought it’d be worth it to ask.

Snorting, Sharky rolled his eyes, but after a minute took another look at the pictures. 

Maybe there was something different here. Something he wasn’t getting due to light, or the giant thumbprint he’d left on the screen, but he wiped it off and tried again. Squinted as he held the phone up to his face, rotated it, shielded the sun from it with his hand, and marinated on it for a good five minutes.

But in the end, red number one was no different than red number two, and he couldn’t do a thing other than shrug at the screen. Then actually typed something out, because John wasn’t exactly here to see him do it, and wouldn’t know shit unless he told him directly.

---

And finally a theoretical part from the Trap fic, b/c I remembered I had this, and really hope I can find a way to make this work judging from the route I’m trying to pin down.

---

Continuing up, she jumped to grab the next and felt her arms strain as she went. Every single time she’d complained about pull-ups flashed through her head, the worst kind of, ‘I told you so,’ but she made it. Moving higher and higher as they went, until the ground below was far enough away to make anyone miss it.

Huffing out a breath, Hana knelt by the ledge to watch for John. “Got it?”

Still eyeing her, he was able to get a better hold from his position, using the height he had on her to get a better hold.

“I see no reason why I wouldn’t, Deputy. In fact, I’d say that-”

Moving his foot, whatever was under it gave, and she caught the shock crossing his face just as it hit.

Slipping back, Hana grabbed for him, and dug her heels into the ground until she was jerked forward, nearly slamming her chin into the dirt. John’s fingers clamped down onto her wrists, holding on as she was dragged forward until they came to a clear stop.

Eyes open, teeth clenched tight, she could hardly manage a breath as she swallowed.

But John was still there. Staring right at her as he breathed himself, pale and with sweat beading on his brow, his composure just as shredded as hers was.

“John?”

He didn’t blink, didn’t move, just kept on looking right at her.

“I’m going to try and pull you up, okay?”

Blinking once, he didn’t let up on his hold and gave a short nod.

[sebbytrash]

Through His Eyes

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive. 

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Anxiety, panic attack, mentions of torture (brief) just all around angst people. 

A/N -  I started this 300 years ago and decided to fuck it all and post part 1. Please love me, I haven’t written in forever. 

Through His Eyes Masterlist

‘Sometimes it’s not the butterflies that tell you you’re in love, but the pain’

You scoop handfuls of water and splash your face, watching in the mirror as fat droplets run down and drip off your chin. Lingering over your reflection, taking stock of the only slightly repressed panic in your eyes and sickly, greyish tinge your skin has taken.

You can do this. This is nothing.

You repeat it in your head like a mantra, looping it round until the words are a tangled mess in your mind. You’re hollowed out, an empty nothing wearing a human looking shell, everything held together with safety pins and duct tape. Eventually you dry your face off with a towel and head back into your room to finish getting dressed.

Dark, hollow eyes haunt the edges of your thoughts. You unconsciously run your fingers over the scar on your forearm, using the hard, angry ridges to remind yourself you had been through worse, survived worse. You pull a hoodie on, tug the sleeves down over the scars down past your fingers, wrapping yourself in it like armor.

Steeling yourself, you heave a few deep breaths before gripping the door handle, hand slipping a little as the cold sweat slides against the metal.

He can’t hurt you anymore.  You can do this.

You force yourself to turn the handle and push yourself through the door, the last barrier between you are your once captor.

Your feet carry you automatically, the clipclop sounds of your unhurried steps drowned out by the thudding heartbeats that throb like bass notes and push behind your eyes. Rounding the corner into the large space of the lounge, you screech to halt at the sight of Steve with his back to you. Or perhaps less so at Steve and more so at the person he’s talking to. Him. He’s tense, you know that instantly, his eyes dart around constantly mapping his surroundings. He’s the first to notice you, his eyes doing a sweep of the room whilst Steve explains the layout of the building, until the finally land on you. There’s a quiver of surprise on his face before the cool, detached mask slips in place and it’s oddly comforting. Comforting to know this affects him in ways too, that you’re not the only one on shaky ground, feeling like your insides are being torn from you, frantic hands shoving handfuls back inside and losing bits of you each time, each handful a little less than before.

Wanda steps into your line of vision, breaking the weirdly hypnotic stare.

“Păsărică, you don’t have to do this right now. I can feel your pain screaming at me. You’re not ready. “

“I have to Wanda, I’ll never be ready.”

He can’t hurt you anymore.  You can do this.

You push past her and make your way to Steve, who’s turned towards you, the tension in the room ratcheting up a few notches clearly caught his attention. He gives you a tentative smile, a warm hand wrapping round your wrist as you near him in an attempt to reassure you. The solid feel of his hand grounds you a little, gives you more focus as you come to a halt beside him, eyes everywhere but him.

“I’m glad you came.” He murmurs softly, although you don’t doubt he heard, “Y/N, this is Bucky. Bucky, Y/N.”

He eyes you warily before shifting forward to offer his hand, the movement makes you flinch back a little; your nerve endings fraught and tense. He pulls his hand back like you scalded him, the beginnings of panic working its way onto his face. He eyes dart between you and Steve as the latter hooks an arm round your shoulders and gives a little squeeze. He knows better than to make it ‘a thing’ so you’re glad when he simply rambles on about menial things, filling the chasm of silence between you and Bucky. You shift back and forth, nervous energy settling over your bones you know you’ll have to work out of you later.

Bucky clears his throat, catching your eye in the process. They lock in place, frozen in shock and just a little curiosity, his haunting grey eyes so full of pain it knocks the wind out of you. Flashes of those same eyes, empty eyes staring right through you as he used your body for his sick, twisted canvas brings the undercurrent of panic to the surface. Blood rushes to your ears, someone’s screaming, except they’re not and it’s just your own voice you can hear in your head, the memories sloshing around making your tongue feel thick and fuzzy.

You stumble back, clasping at your throat, your tongues expanded the width of you, no air getting into your lungs. Blackness creeps into the edges of your vision and then Wanda’s there, gripping your face in her hands and murmuring words you can’t hear. She closes her eyes and then there’s red everywhere, like its pouring into your eye sockets and mouth, a calmness fights its way over the panic, pushing its way through each layer until it’s rooted to your marrow. You take deep shuddering breaths as the blackness receeds.

“It is okay Păsărică, I have you. I’m here. You are safe.” Wanda’s whispering to you over and over, eyes locked with yours until you blink at her and finally focus.

You focus on her, watching as the red glow in her eyes fades to brown, her grip on your face loosens and eventually falls away.

“I’m good. I’m okay. Thank you, Wanda.” She eyes you warily but nods anyway.

Your eyes dart around the room and land on Steve’s back, is that- yeah, he’s holding Bucky back who’s straining towards you, eyes wild and full of something. Steve’s murmuring in his ear, talking him down from whatever ledge he was just on. Something Steve says hits home and Bucky’s eyes finally tear from you and to Steve, he nods, just once, before turning heel and disappearing down the hall. Something inside you relaxes a little at the sound of his retreating footsteps then Steve’s beside you, pulling you to him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Steve, shit- not so tight.” Your voice is muffled against his chest.

“Sorry, sorry.” He pulls back to look at you, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have made you do that. I just thought- never mind.” He continues fussing over you, patting your cheek, rubbing your arms till you physically restrain him.

“Steve! I’m okay, just…chill, yeah?” You pull back so you can meet his eyes, “It was a panic attack, bound to happen at some point, may as well have been now. Like a band aid- rip it right off, remember?” You nod at him, the movement making you a little dizzy, the after effects of the attack still running through you.

He makes a noncommittal noise, halfway between a groan and a sigh, “I’m still sorry.”

Of course he is. Steve Rogers, Mr Responsibility. He blames himself. Why bother blaming the man who inflicted the damage, his best pal Bucky, or better yet, Hydra themselves. Oh no, this is Steve’s fault.

“You hungry?” He asks.

“I could eat.” You muster a smile for him, looping an arm through his and letting him lead you away.

Tag list : @marvel-ash​ @ @watchmemarvel  @ourpeachskies @bionic-buckyb @howlingbarnes @manawhaat  @mamapeterson @teamfreewill-imagine @writingruna  @sugardaddytonystark @buckysberrie @fvckingavengers @sincerelysaraahh @maybe-mikala  @a-little-hell-to-raise  ​ @stevergxrs @imhereforbvcky @poe-also-bucky @justareader @abovethesmokestacks

[saergentdaddy-moved-blog]

Render Me Breathless (Peter Parker)

based off of this post 

You stared at the score board in both triumph and disappointment. Your team, Team Shmaptain Shmerica - why would Steve even agree to naming his team that? Sam is an idiot - was both losing and winning to an intense game of laser tag with the other team (which is named normally after Iron Man, unlike Sam who wanted to name Steve’s team for shits and giggles), and you were desperate to win at least just one game. You and Bucky were the only ones left in your team, while Natasha and Peter in the other team. 

“Okay, we need a plan,” Bucky urgently whispered to you. You turned to him with a surprised look; Bucky has never been this serious with this game of laser tag. You’ve played it multiple times before, and he never makes a plan, even with himself. He just shoots at anything that breathes and accepts his defeat when he gets shot. 

“That’s new coming from you, Barnes. Did you learn that word from Steve somewhere?” you joked. Before you could whip out another witty remark, Bucky grabbed your arm and dragged you to a room. You could hear faint footsteps coming from outside. 

“Y/N! Mr. Barnes! It’s kinda over now, isn’t it? I’ve got Ms. Romanoff here with me, and I’m pretty sure that she’s your gonna kick your ass before you could blink your eyes.” Peter taunted in a sing-songy voice. 

You scowled indignantly at his choice of tone and gripped your laser gun tightly. Stupid Peter and his stupid smug mouth. 

Sometimes you just gotta have to take some desperate measures to get that spider’s mouth to shut up.

“Barnes, shoot anything with a pulse except for Parker. That’s the plan. I’ll do the rest of the dirty work.” you hissed at him. Bucky stared at you in wonder and bewilderment. “You seriously just made fun of me for asking to make up a plan. This plan is full of flaws!” he told you incredulously. 

“It’s still a plan anyway. Get your ass moving, Barnes. We’ve got spiders to eliminate.” Bucky nodded, seeming to share the same determination you had. You both scurried away out the room. You split up and went in different directions, straining your ears to listen where Peter and Natasha could be.

Unfortunately for Natasha, and fortunately for you and Bucky, Peter can’t shut up when he’s nervous over something. So you and Bucky managed to find them in an instant. Peter was mindlessly talking about the game’s rules while he fiddled nervously with his gun and Natasha was half-listening to him while trailing her eyes around the battlefield for any sign of you and Bucky.

Bucky looked at you, silently asking permission to shoot at Natasha. You nodded at him, and he wasted no time to carefully aim at her. He pulled the trigger, and he successfully hit Natasha’s laser tag uniform that made a noise. But as Natasha’s gun was disconnected, Peter quickly spotted Bucky and shot his gun at him, and it hit him. Bucky’s uniform also made a noise. 

“Buck -” you gasped, but Bucky cut you off.

“Avenge me, kiddo.” Bucky flashed you a pained smile as he flailed to the floor like a drama queen. You turned your head and looked at Peter with a gaunt glare. He looked intimidated and did a little jump, then you smirked at him and turned back to Bucky with a nod of your head. 

You ran to a different direction, knowing Peter will follow you to claim his victory. And to avenge his Momma Spider. 

Peter stealthily walked around the room, his grip deathly on his fake gun and his teeth harshly biting on his bottom lip nervously. He was no assassin, but you sure as hell were. You and Natasha were like carbon copies of each other. Whatever Natasha has learned while training, it was no surprise that you learned it, too.

“Parker,” 

Peter jumped and made to turn around, but he was suddenly pinned to the wall and now somebody was kissing him harshly against the wall. Peter moaned when he realized that it was you kissing him. 

You told yourself not to get aroused with Peter’s lips, chapped and raw from all the lip-biting he did. You grabbed his wrists, prompting him to drop his gun and he did without a second thought. You pinned his wrists to the wall and started kissing him deeper. He licked your bottom lip, but you denied access, just to tease him a little bit. You then bit his bottom lip, dragging it backwards with you and releasing a broken moan from him. 

You pulled away from Peter and pointed your gun at him, shooting him and his uniform made a funny noise. 

Peter stared at you in awe as FRIDAY announced you and your team as the winners. 

You looked at the scoreboard with a pompous grin then looked back at the distraught boy in front of you. “Well,” you teased Peter, who had just realized that their team lost. You walked away from the crime scene like a diva, swaying your hips and flipping your gun in your hands with a victorious smile as you approached your team who are hollering like madmen at their triumph. 

Natasha and his other teammates approached him with little grins that looked similar to yours. “Didn’t take kissing as one of your weak points, kiddo.” Tony teased, and the others laughed at Peter, who turned bright red in his comment.