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Bleep Blorp
Sneep snoggity I’m a frog on a boggity
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Took a couple screenshots of Dan Povimire’s yt short- Tumblr do your thing
#pnf#pnf phineas#pnf ferb#pnf isabella#dan povenmire#can you tell what this is?#I can read some of it#new season#phineas and ferb
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I’m mentally stable I swear- *brain starts vibrating at a speed that hertz*
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Okaaaayyyy, so I write fanfiction, but this is my first The owl house fic- just gonna test to see if I should continue-
Sweet Child of Mine
(Pt1???) (Willow X Hunter) (The owl house)
A lot had happened in the past four years. Belos, the collector, Belos again. It had all been one giant headache paired with occasional adrenaline rushes. However, this was the end. Hopefully. There were just some final insurance steps that needed to be put into place.
Hunter was entrusted with sweeping through the old castle. Hunter knew most of the secrets, and the things he didn’t know, he knew where to find. His girlfriend, Willow was with him, hopefully just for emotional support. Then again, you never knew what security might be embedded in the castle, and Willow was far more capable than Hunter himself, but that was already given knowledge.
“It’s going to be alright.” Willow said, already being proactive about comforting Hunter, firmly holding his hand. She knew how hard this was for him, but if anyone could ensure the safety of the boiling isles from whatever lurked in the castle, it was Hunter.
There were some places that everyone on the isles knew about, like the throne room, or the coven relics that had been up on display. There were lesser known rooms, like the coven-head headquarters, or military bases. Then, there were rooms that Hunter knew of, but had never been in.
Belos was insanity incarnate. Hunter could never justify his reasoning, and had no intentions of looking for any. Unfortunately, Hunter had to look into his eyes, to think of what could be a danger. Slowly, he had skimmed through all the hidden sectors of the castle, and last up was Belos’s lab.
Hunter had been only four when he had first found out about the laboratory. He had been following around his former mentor, playing coven scout spies, which was a favorite game of his, up until the incident. Belos seemed to be complacent in the game, never joining in, nor actively discouraging it, til Hunter had somehow caught him opening up a secret door.
It had been a triumph of his, in the moment. Catching his uncle doing something he had never seen before. He had waited for Belos to turn around so he could show off his skills.
Black goo.
Slice.
Blood.
Hunter had been left cradling his wound on his face.
“Real spies don’t gloat about their newfound knowledge.” Belos had said coldly. “Do not” he started, the ‘t’ holding more an added punch, “follow me in here. Ever.”
The act was so cemented in Hunter's mind that he knew that that was the place where if Belos had any more secrets, it would be there.
He led Willow to the little notch on the side of the wall in a particular hallway. Flashes of his trauma flitting in and out of his brain, like stray embers on the fire dumpster that was his childhood. He pushed past it, in order to fulfill his mission.
Once the door was open, he stood at the entrance for a second. “So this was Belos’s lab.” he said, his heart beating fast. “I’ve only been here once- not /in/ here, but…”
Willow reached over and held Hunter’s hand. “Do you want to head back?” She asked. “Now that we know where it is, we don’t need to-” Her eyes grew wide as she saw a pod of sorts. It had a metal exterior, and was filled with liquid, but more importantly, an infant inside. There was a screen next to it that said “ready for extraction”.
Hunter was confused at first, but then followed her line of sight. There was so much in this dang workshop that it was hard to see that pod, but when he did, he froze. “He was already planning on replacing me.” He said, and went up to the glass to get a better look.
He accidentally pressed the button and the glass opened, the liquid and baby tumbling out. “Shit-” Hunter cursed, and caught the child. The baby grimwalker started to immediately cry as air hit his lungs.
“Language!” Willow chastised, but went over to find a blanket. “Here you go.” She said softly, and looked over at the child.
“Sorry, I just didn’t want to drop him.” Hunter replied. He took the blanket and swaddled the child- or at least as best as he could. He was no parent, but he already immediately felt a connection to this child. He was like him, made for a purpose, and given the chance to reject said purpose, if just given the love needed to thrive.
“I didn’t know you looked so cute as a baby.” Willow tried to tease, not knowing what was going through her boyfriend’s head, but she could tell that he looked overwhelmed.
Hunter looked down at the child in his arms. His heart bled for him. “Lets go, now.” He said, rushing over to the underground tunnels of the castle.
Willow was shocked, rushing after the grimwalkers. “Wait- Hunter?! What are you doing?” She asked, catching up to the scrawny teen’s pace.
“The moment anyone finds out about the baby, they’re going to take him away.” Hunter explained. “I need to protect him from that.”
Willow grew quiet, thinking it over as he jogged alongside Hunter in the castle’s dark underbelly.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Hunter said softly.
“No, maybe a little impulsive, but that’s pretty normal by Hunter standards.” Willow said with a soft smile.
And so that’s how Hunter Noceda became a father.
(To be continued???)
#toh fanfic#winter#huntlow#hunter the owl house#willow toh#willow x hunter#willow park#hunter wittebane deamonne noceda clawthorne#except no wittebane#buttlos can die#grimwalker#baby grimwalker#Sweet Child of Mine
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The situation starts on the couches of a hotel lobby on a random planet at three-something in the morning, sprawled all over each other, exhausted, as Coran quietly checks them in.
“Hey, Lance,” whispers Keith, from somewhere beside the shoulder he offered. Lance groans, feigning more tiredness than he actually feels, heart racing since Keith first shifted so Lance would have somewhere to rest his head. He has this strange feeling of invasion, even though Keith offered, even though they’ve been in this position dozens of times before. He’s waiting almost for the other shoe to drop.
“Mm-what,” he mumbles, muffled into his roughed shoulder pads, words smushed together.
Keith sighs instead of answering. For half a second Lance tenses. But Keith only shifts again, not pushing Lance off but moving so Lance is pressed closer to him, and then the heat of his breath tickles the shell of Lance’s ear, and he tenses for a whole different reason.
And then there is, inexplicably, the feeling of what must be Keith’s lips, pressed to the side of Lance’s skull, gentle and lingering, and Lance thinks clearly to himself: what the fresh actual and genuine fuck.
“‘M sorry,” says Keith, so quiet it would be impossible to hear were his mouth not one single inch away from Lance’s ear. He kisses again, and he almost sags into the motion, into Lance. “I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of you earlier. I was stressed. I missed you, too.”
Lance opens his mouth. He muffles a choking sound with all of his strength.
“All good in the hood,” he finally manages, and then wants to strangle himself. “We’re — tight, Keithalicious.”
Somewhere, somehow, there is a God, and this God looks upon him with the utmost cruelty, and so Lance suffers, unjustly, every day of his life. He often prays that he will wake up one morning in the absence of a tongue. A hindrance and horrible sacrifice, of course, but one that may be worth the total sum of humiliation he feels so acutely and so frequently by virtue of God’s gift of language.
Shit is just not worth it, sometimes.
Keith’s laugh tickles a little. “I’m glad, sweetheart.” His final kiss is light, more of a peck than anything. He pats Lance’s hip twice before standing. Lance wonders, vaguely, when the hell his hand was in his hip area in the first place, and how the hell he’s supposed to rationalize that somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. “‘M gonna go help Coran. See you in a few.”
“Yeah,” is what Lance means to say, but unfortunately when he opens his mouth the only sound that escapes is a strange kind of croak, clawing its way out of his throat and withering to death somewhere in the air between them. It may be, he realises with an intense flash of solemnity, the last remaining dredges of his dignity. Rest in fucking peace.
Keith just smiles again (a real one that shows his crooked incisors and crinkles his eyes and makes him looks handsome, not hot or sexy or beautiful but handsome, in a way that genuinely makes Lance weak in the knees) and jogs over to the front desk. Lance watches him place a friendly hand on Coran’s shoulder, leaning in and narrowing his eyes at the paper the front desk worker offers, saying something Lance can’t hear with his Black Paladin face in full force. When he finally manages to wrench his eyes away, he sees the faces of his team, gobsmacked, staring at him with wide eyes and jaws brushing the polished blue tiles.
“What,” Shiro manages eventually, “the fuck.”
“Since fucking when are you two boning!” Pidge adds, shamelessly.
“I thought you had a thing for Allura?” questions Hunk.
Lance’s own jaw snaps shut. His ears burn, worse than they already were, and he glances at the princess only to find her already looking away. Shame burns something fierce in the pit of his stomach. It’s an unwelcome replacement of the butterflies.
“What me and Keith do behind a closed door is none of your business,” Lance says hotly, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest ridiculously. His heart pounds. He raises his voice to drown it out. “We had a bonding moment, after all.”
Pidge barks a laugh. The rest of the snorts and giggles soon follow, and soon the team is looking at him in fond exasperation, rolling their eyes and muttering about Lance and his antics. Allura, even, looks him in the face again. The roiling in his stomach doesn’t change, but the pound of his heart is replaced with something bitter on the back of his tongue.
Anything is better than looking ignorant. Even if you look like a fool.
He settles into the corner of the couch — much less comfortable than Keith’s armoured shoulder, somehow — and lets his eyes slide shut, lets the familiar sound of his team quietly conversing and the ambient sound of a public place at night wash over him as he fades into a half-sleep. The same kind of sleep in a car on the way home from a long road trip, late at night; half aware of the movement and murmured sound of your parents’ whispering in front seat, time stretching around you like taffy.
He stirs slowly at the sound of boots hitting the floor, bleary eyes still half-shut. Keith slowly comes back into focus, standing in front of him now. He’s frowning, troubled.
“They booked us two separate rooms,” he explains, pursing his lips at the two keys in his hand.
Lance pauses. “���Yes.”
Keith doesn’t pick up on it. (That, at least, is familiar enough to make Lance smile.)
“You’d think they’d…well, whatever. I suppose it’s fine. I’ll come join you after you’re showered?”
“Keith —”
“I think my room has the bigger bed, actually. You come to mine.” He opens the little envelope thing and pulls out the extra key, sliding it into Lance’s hands. “I’ll bring up your luggage.”
“Keith, I’m not going to —”
Lance stops.
Keith, I’m not going to sleep with you, is what he was going to say. Keith, what the hell. Keith, you’re acting like a pod person. Keith, I don’t understand what’s going on. Keith, everyone is laughing at us and you don’t seem to notice. Or care. Keith, you’re acting like you’re my — boyfriend, or something. Keith, one day ago you didn’t want anything to do with me. Keith, now you can’t seem to get enough of me. Keith, I am going to lose my mind. Keith, Keith, Keith.
“Okay,” Lance says instead, quiet. He turns the key over in his hands. It looks like a regular white hotel key. It feels heavier, somehow. “Okay, I’ll meet you in twenty.”
Keith flashes a quick smile. It, too, is genuine, and Lance lips are quirking up to match before he can think about it.
“Liar. You’ve never taken less than a half hour shower in your life.”
“I have — so.”
Shaking his head, fondness bleeding from him, Keith steps forward, bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to Lance’s forehead. Lance feels all the air exit his body in one huge whoosh.
“I know you, goober. We got all night. Decompress. I’ll check the closet and under the bed before you get there. Don’t take too long.”
Lance stills. He watches after Keith with wide eyes. His heart, finally calmed again, fucking races.
He’s never, not once in his life, told anyone about the — thing. With the — closets, and under the bed. Not one person; not even Hunk.
It’s stupid, is what it is.
But Lance’s older cousin was kind of a — jerk. And when they were kids he would make these freaky fucking paintings with red eyes and smudged faces and — hide them, in Lance’s closet or dresser drawers or under his bed, and convince him they would come to life in the night and posses him, and it was so fucking dumb, but Lance has always been gullible and it used to scare the shit out of him, because he would never know when they would appear and it would just — freak him out. All the time. Unless he checked his entire room once in the daytime before sleeping, he would never be able to fall asleep.
And he’s never fucking — told anyone about that. Because as a kid it was terrifying to say out loud and as he got older it was just embarrassing. But Keith knows, somehow.
Keith knows.
Lance exhales, air whistling sharply from between his teeth, “Whatever. Whatever. You know what? Whatever,” and stomps over to the elevator. “This is — I’m going to shower. And not think. I don’t — whatever.”
He stews the whole way up to his room. He stews as the key doesn’t fucking work in the slot until the fourth try. He stews as he yanks off his armour and flings it into a random corner, relishing in the heavy thud as it hits the wall, hoping it cracks. He stews as he angrily presses all the buttons in the shower and hops in, cussing as he’s assaulted with an onslaught of hot-cold-hot-cold-soap-soap-soap, aggressively blinking away the sting in his eye and cursing the very air molecules around him. He stews the entire fucking forty minute shower, although admittedly he does, by the ten minute mark, start to calm down a little.
By the time he steps onto the bathmat, he’s just — tired.
“Whatever,” he sighs to himself again, but this time it’s more weary than anything. “Just — I guess. Sure. Whatever.”
There’s a fancy complimentary robe folded neatly on the stack of towels. He swallows the lump in his throat, thinking of his beautiful blue one, now ashes with the rest of the castle.
“Whatever,” he repeats to himself, firmly. Eventually he manages to blink the tears away.
The walk to Keith’s room is short, and cold, and probably embarrassing, since he is in a robe and slippers and a twisty shower hat, but he’s too drained to care. Every step is heavy. By the time he manages to slide the key in the lock — this key cooperates, go fucking figure — and shove the heavy door open, he feels…precarious.
Fragile, maybe.
It takes one look from Keith, one flash of soft indigo eyes and bedsheets untucked and folded over like he likes them and a nightlight shining low on the side table, for him to simply burst into tears.
“It has been a long fucking day,” he sobs.
“It sure as shit has,” Keith agrees, opening his arms, and Lance doesn’t bother thinking before collapsing into them, curling into Keith’s lap and tucking under his chin. Keith grips him tightly and squeezes, and it feels so strangely familiar and so perfect that it’s simply too much for Lance to worry about. He does not have the energy. It’s just — too good, and he’s so tired, and if this is all a trick or a dream or anything like that then he’ll handle it in the fucking morning. Right now Keith is warm and he’s a real fucking person offering real fucking affection with absolutely zero strings attached, none of them, and Lance is allowed to have nice things, actually, it’s written right the in paladin handbook, he knows because he wrote it there himself.
He can just — have this one thing.
“Let’s just sleep for a few thousand years,” Keith says, and he sounds exhausted as Lance does.
And if this is a dream than there’s absolutely nothing to lose, and also whatever, truly, so Lance gives fully into every impulse he’s been too ashamed to even admit in his own head and leans up to kiss him squarely on the lips. He is warm and sweet and tastes like toothpaste, and he kisses back without a second of hesitation, and his hands cup the side of Lance’s face and his calloused thumb brushes across his cheekbones, and it’s everything Lance could ever want it to be, and it makes all the horrible everything melt away. So Lance says screw you, universe, and kisses him until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open, and then he tucks in next to him and relishes in his arm over his waist and falls asleep faster than he ever has in his life listening to Keith’s heartbeat.
This is where the situation starts.
———
based on this thread
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A continuation of my studies has led me to this
Step one:
Find sources
Step two: review sources
Step three: collect data
Conclusion: no
#science side of tumblr#I need some peer reviews plz#tumblr stuff#gender issues#I take my research seriously
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I’m only reblogging this bcz I’m in class and I need to listen to every single one of these when I get out of class.
Hello Sunny! What songs do you think that fits "Klance"? 🌈
ohh there's my old playlist for them, here u go!
#klance#vld lance#vld keith#voltron#vol…tron?#we had a bonding moment#I FUCKING cradled you in my arms!
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Why am I low key attracted to you now puki?
New song alert!!! & voice reveal ??
This is an epic! mainline! beat! Featuring vocals!! But you have to be nice because I'm not a singer.
SOUNDCLOUD
SPOTIFY SOON (presave)
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I was scrolling on Pinterest and out of the corner of my eye I thought it was vector from despicable me’s ass
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Yo, I think @big-blue-dino might be onto something. 🧐
The hero’s identity was accidentally revealed, but it turns out they are moderately poor, have no friends or family, and their civilian life is frankly…sad.
#spider man#writers#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writeblr#writing inspiration#tumblr stuff#haha#peter parker#spider man: no way home#into the spider verse
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“Moooom! Quit trying to tell me about how to rob banks! I’m too busy spreading covid misinformation online and funding PETA protestors!
A supervillain’s child has finally decided to take up their mantle in the villainous lineage, but unfortunately, the generation gap causes them to argue constantly about “traditional” villainy versus “modern” villainy.
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It turns out all alien life has evolved the same way, they’ve developed the same languages as us, the same advancements as us, and they look exactly like humans, and because of this, the first aliens to visit earth are extremely confused.
#writers#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writeblr#writing inspiration#tumblr stuff#haha#aliens and ufos
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Step one: find sources
Step two: Research and create hypothesis
Step 3: collect data
Conclusion: no
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Step one:
Find sources
Step two: review sources
Step three: collect data
Conclusion: no
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I met a new tumblr friend, and asked a simple question.
She said “god please don’t make me say it”.
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Agreed. I had never read the comics, but it actually makes me interested lol. Also, Damn is Clark sexy
As someone who isn't all that familiar with Superman and had no opinion on him whatsoever, watching My Adventures With Superman was so interesting. Because, dear Superman fans, you were right. If this is Superman, damn. We stan.
#superman#my adventures with superman meta#maws#maws lois lane#maws clark kent#my adventures with superman#tumblr stuff
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I’m not an artist, but I finally decided to draw the man I’ve been simping over for weeks now. Took forever to get the proportions right so this is the only one I’m comfy sharing haha
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I cannot make this shit up.
Another, much more adult adult helped me by putting it in the trash, but not before I grabbed the sticky note I wrote on and threw it away before anyone could see what an idiot I was.
Thinking about that one time when I found a mouse at the elementary school I work at and I was SO FUCKING STUPID.
#true off my chest#someone stop me#elementary education#i am an idiot#please dear god#it’s kind of funny#but also not
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