One of these days I'm just gonna go feral and write self indulgent X Reader fics of my favs but Marvus simps are still here and must be fed. They are appreciated deeply but this is not a Marvus only blog and I am one free moment away from screaming into the abyss about my favs. Which probably won't get as many likes or reblogs but they're self indulgent for a reason lol. But worry not because I am always taking requests and asks for writing especially because the ideas thrown my way are serotonin in these crazy ass times.
Vent post not something I usually do but I can't really talk about it with my family so I might as well jettison it out into the gaping maw of the internet.
I'm... happy to be adopted. I really truly am. I'm lucky to have the second chance at life I was given even if it came with its own issues. I'm painfully aware of how easily I could have become a statistic. I don't miss my blood family at all and they certainly don't miss me.
It doesn't mean I don't wish I could have someone to ask questions. Finding diagnosis for my mental health, being in and out of all kinds of therapy, being asked over and over again if there's any genetic history of mental disorders. I can't answer that. I couldn't tell you. My half brother had adhd and went off his meds before I was born. My mother claimed she had bipolar disorder once upon a time. But I have to take that with a grain of salt because I couldn't tell anyone if that was the excuse to hide the symptoms of her drug addiction or if the drug addiction was a symptom of her trying to self medicate her bipolar disorder.
How do you explain that the signs of a family at full mental decay are there but you're so far removed, that the situations of your childhood and the existing structure of your entire blood family are so toxic you couldn't tell a rumor or an insult from the truth?
My adoptive family has pictures dating back to the Victorian era. Thousands of beautiful connections to their family history. Windows into where what came from. Who passed down the nose or the eyes or the smile. I look at them and the history I was taken into but not apart of and I just.
I can only say that I grew up starving, digging through trash for food, that I am missing chunks from my childhood memories that speak of horrors I don't know whether to be grateful not to remember or devastated to be left with the symptoms and no root cause to address. I grew up not so much raising myself but trying to survive in the most basic ways. I just.
I want to know what's wrong with me so I can help myself in the ways those around me failed to do. I want to get it under control I want to understand what's wrong before I somehow end up in the same cycle I've tried desperately to escape for years. I want to be better than the blood running through my veins.
I've got two more requests in my inbox to complete and then my inbox will be officially empty. I would like to state that my inbox is always open unless stated otherwise so if you don't mind the wait feel free to pop in with some requests or asks! I take anon requests and asks as well for the shy people out there
Gamzee x Standoffish!Reader
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Life wasn’t always kind, it didn't wait for people to catch their breaths, it didn't let you get used to what it threw at you, and it certainly never slowed down. Life had taught you the best thing to do was to meet it halfway and keep trudging. You had built a calloused exterior over time to deal with it. The sort of exterior that pushed people away because you couldn’t bring yourself to accept a hand held out in your direction. There was always some clause, some string, attached and you’d be damned before you fell for it. So for all of life’s pitfalls you’d hardened yourself against the potential. It worked as long as you didn’t count all the people you never meant to rub wrong- which you rarely did. If people were meant to be in your life they'd chip away at the walls you'd been steadfast in reinforcing, though you could admit to yourself you often made it far harder for people than you meant to. A small sacrifice for protection against getting hurt again.
Or so you had told yourself.
You’d been happy to be a prickly douche to whoever so much as looked at you for too long, snapping and glaring at every little thing life threw at you, and then you'd met Gamzee. The most spaced out, laid back motherfucker you had ever seen. Nothing fazed the troll. No barbed comment, no sneered look, no potential fight. It was as if he lived in a perpetual bubble of chill and good peace. After awhile it seemed almost cruel on your end to be mean to him at all. You’d been looking for a roommate to share your apartment with- rent was getting tighter each day and you knew it was only a matter of time before a check finally bounced- and Gamzee had simply made himself right at home.
You had wanted an Alternian roommate specifically to guarantee they’d mind their business so you could mind yours. Too bad Gamzee never got that memo. Or maybe he had and simply ignored it. Just like he’d ignored your attempts to make him leave you alone and stop letting himself into your room to “hang” or sprawling along the couch to be in your personal bubble. No matter how many times you snapped and snarled and attempted to get him to do as everyone else did and fuck off he had remained. In fact the more you tried to scare him off the more he seemed to make himself right at home. It completely baffled you at first as to why you couldn't make him leave and then slowly you had begun to accept it.
Begrudgingly and with the same level of discomfort as someone having their teeth pulled.
That seemed to be all Gamzee needed to get truly comfortable. The minute you had begun to see Gamzee as a friend and start to open up to the clown he’d dug his claws in with all the glee of a child refusing to let go of a beloved toy. He invited you everywhere with him, sometimes not even waiting for an answer. You had thought it the desperate actions of a quadrantless troll- until he finally introduced you to his “palest of diamonds”. Karkat was like looking in a fucked up funhouse mirror. The two of you snapping at each other and pushing away in all the similar ways. It was no wonder Gamzee had seemed so comfortable with you. He had a type! And apparently you fit the bill. It had taken much longer for you and Karkat to get acquainted than it had with Gamzee but when you did it was clear the clown had used the same tactics he was using on you now to get Karkat as his moirail.
A complete and utter disregard for your stubborn and standoffish nature.
Though according to Karkat your long term roommate had a dark side, one you hadn’t seen and was hard to believe, but sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of it when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Calculating lucidity that would flicker in his otherwise stoned and glazed over eyes. It was easy to dismiss.
But today you were reconsidering that dismissal.
It had started out all the same. You’d had the day off work and had taken to lounging on the couch with your phone using the TV as background noise. Whatever conversation you had started out having with one of your few friends had devolved into archaic memes and had long abandoned coherence a good fifteen minutes or so ago. Gamzee would be home soon, you had memorized his schedule out of necessity from the times he’d wandered into the bathroom to grab some of his things while you had been showering. The mortification had been brutal and your landlord had banned changing the locks in the apartment for reasons lost to you. So the bathroom lock remained broken and you had memorized Gamzee’s schedule as a consequence. Since then there had been no mortifying bathroom mishaps. Not that Gamzee had seemed bothered at any point, he hadn’t been creepy about it either, just grabbing his things as if you weren’t there at all. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned but had settled uneasily on grateful. Today was no different than any other when he got back. Humming and chuckling to himself as he shed off his jacket and left it on the floor when he came in- another losing battle with him- before wandering into the kitchen without a care in the world. It was as if he hadn’t even realized you were home as he rooted around in the fridge for what you assumed was faygo. The two of you would have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, food and drinks were getting low again. You could hear him shut the fridge with his hip and the soft hiss of carbonation as he unscrewed the lid on his soda and wandered into the living room where you were still curled up on the couch. For a moment neither of you said anything and then you could feel as his eyes slid to and over you. Again that rare lucid clarity came to his eyes in a brief flash before it was replaced by the ever present glaze as he smiled wide to see you.
“Hey buddy! You all up and got the day off?”
“Yeah. Figured I’d just relax.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” He was still smiling that crooked smile as he hooked one long leg over the top of the couch and began climbing over it. You watched mildly unbothered by whatever strange fancy had struck him now as you continued sharing memes on your phone with your friend. Unfortunately that was all the acceptance Gamzee needed to plop onto the couch and then flop directly on top of you.
“Gamzee what are you doing?” You asked calmly. Maybe a little bit tiredly knowing from the start that it was a losing battle.
“I’m just gettin’ my cuddle on.” He replied cheerful as ever. One arm snaked underneath your back to wrap around you as he began slowly inching his way up your body to rest his head on your chest. He’d had the fortunate thought to tilt his head so you wouldn’t be gored by his long goat-like horns. But it didn’t stop him from snuggling himself closer. Sighing heavily you set your phone aside and wrapped an arm around his neck.
“Didn’t we have a talk about this yesterday?”
“I dunno. Did we? I just wanna get my motherfuckin’ cuddles on. Feelin’ all sorts a clingy lately.”
“What do you mean?” You asked curiously but Gamzee’s mind was clearly already drifting away as he snuggled into your hold. One of his hands dangled off the couch with the bottle of faygo and you hoped he wouldn’t drop it. It took forever to clean up and you’d just cleaned the rug not even three days ago. For a while the two of you just laid there, Gamzee’s ear twitching as he listened to your heartbeat. His clawed fingertips on the arm wrapped around you tapped what you figured must be the beat of your heart on your side. You were half asleep underneath him, the chilled weight of his body helping calm you, when he finally shifted. You glanced down at him and found his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you. Again that lucidity had returned to his eyes as he watched you.
And then the unthinkable happened. The thing that turned your thoughts on the clown upside down.
He slid in closer and before you realized what he was doing he had pressed his lips to yours. The first thing you registered was that they were cold, the second thing had been the slick slide of the greasepaint he wore as his mouth moved against yours, and the third was the way he was still staring at you. His eyes were still open, still watching, as he pressed his mouth to yours insistently. Your sound of confused surprise was muffled as he shifted his head just so and his tongue licked across the meat of your bottom lip. Eyes wide and shocked you tensed and he nipped lightly at your mouth before pulling away a more smug smile on his face.
“You taste like popsicles.” He told you voice pitched strangely. Swallowing nervously you struggled to find words to even say to him.
“Gamzee?”
“Hm?”
“What the hell was that for?” You hated how meek you sounded but the shock had been too great. He’d never even given you an inclination he saw you as anything more than a good friend.
“A motherfucker can’t just all up and kiss his matesprit?” He asked, clearly confused.
“Your what?”
His eyes suddenly went as wide as yours, a startling look on his face as he seemed to struggle to keep them open most of the time.
“Oh shit.” He breathed, “I forgot to ask you.”
Oh, i thought you abandoned the blog. The fic was amazing! Can... can you continue it just a bit?
-♦️ Anon
Nope! Still kicking just busy with life. Gonna take a lot more to remove me from this hellsite. Thank you so much for the compliment though you're gonna have to be more specific. If you need help with what to include here's my faqs for you!
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/652307814891536384/faqs
That Rodimus x professional!reader that you recently posted was SO GOOD like omg- please please write more rodimus x readers, I’m begging
Just for you anon I have a SUPER short drabble! Thank you so much for the compliment and I hope you like this just as much!
-
The best part of having a cybertronian ride was the fact you didn’t actually have to do any driving. Which was great at the moment as you snoozed on and off in the passenger seat. Rodimus’ holoform was doing a magnificent job of pretending to drive while Rodimus himself had been slowly lowering your seat back as the intervals between ‘on’ and ‘off’ began to grow longer. You’d been up since dawn, having had to make a dash for it when your home had been targeted by the government. It had been pure luck you’d gotten a warning in time to throw some shit into a couple bags and skip town. Now the sun was sinking and so were your eyelids.
“You good?” Rodimus asked, his holoform turning to look at you.
“Yeah, sorry.” You fought back a yawn, “Not much of a conversationalist right now.” You joked, already sinking lower into your seat. The fans slowly turned to you, the heat kicking up a notch. He was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. Rodimus laughed at your sleepy glare- more of a pout than anything.
“Don’t give me that look, you need sleep.” He told you, holoform reaching over to poke your nose. You let out a tired laugh of your own.
“And you don’t?”
“Nah. I got plenty of rest.”
“You’re going to crash the minute we reach the base aren’t you?”
“Yep!” He replied cheerfully. With a shake of your head you smiled.
“You’re terrible.” You told him plainly.
“Only for you.” He teased leaning over towards you. His holoform smiled, too perfect teeth in an unblemished face. Artificial perfection verging ever so slightly into uncanny valley. It was true his holoform was attractive, it bore as striking a resemblance to him as possible, but you preferred Rodimus as he was. The cybertronian with more heart than brains. Still, you knew what he wanted, and so you leaned towards him.
His lips were warm, lips a buzz as if you’d placed them against the old box tv you had at home. That pressure faint but firm for the brief moment that you kissed before pulling away. It was chaste. Just a quick press of lips before his holoform turned back to the road as if he were a real person and not a hard light hologram your boyfriend used to fool people. Giving up the pretense that you were even trying to stay awake you adjusted your jacket and closed your eyes, the heat lulling you to sleep with the comforting purr of Rodimus’ engine.
"You sure you want to come over tonight?" You ask as you facetime Polypa, she's somewhere downtown shopping with Boldir. The two of them hadn't told you for what but you have a feelings its for you.
"Of course. You're making spaghetti aren't you?" She asks as she glances off screen to where you can hear Boldir talking with a shop attendant.
"Yeah, figured it was a good night to stay in. Maybe watch some Netflix."
"That sounds great... Maybe we can watch Buzzfeed Unsolved too..." Boldir speaks up, face briefly appearing. She's giving you a more gentle smile and you know it has to do with the fact you'd nearly had an anxiety attack the last time the three of you had all hung out. It makes you want to squirm. Instead you glance over to check if the pot of water is boiling yet.
"Yeah. That sounds good." You agree absently. In the living room you can hear the weather forecast calling for more rain. It'd been going on steadily for two days now, a light drizzle that wouldn't let up. Usually you enjoyed the rain but tonight was calling for a sudden turn in the weather- a proper thunderstorm. They might not be able to go home if it gets truly bad.
"Do you want us to wait?" Polypa asks after a moment of silence as she walks. Her expression is understanding and open. The fact she's been so patient with you as of late causes your stomach to drop in nervousness at the thought. She wouldn't bat an eye if you told her you just wanted space.
But you don't. You want to spend time with your friends. Have dinner and watch whatever random thing catches your interests as the night goes on. But at the same time you aren't sure how you're gonna take the storm mixed with the fact that the two olive bloods will be trapped with you for the night. Swallowing those feelings down you give her a smile.
"Nah. We need to finish up Blood Battle Blockade anyway don't we?"
"True... I've heard the ending is really good."
"So have I."
The silence returns as the water finally boils and you pour in the noodles. You can hear Boldir and Polypa talking to each other as they keep you on facetime. The soothing background noise letting you relax as you set the timer. It was truly just one of those molasses slow days. A haze of lethargy falling over everything. You prop your phone on the jar of tomato sauce so you can still see what they're up to as you chop garlic. They're outside now, huddled under an umbrella as they walk. You'd only taken your eyes off your phone for a moment when you hear Polypa curse and Boldir suck in a breath. Glancing up you can see the way Polypa has pulled the phone closer to herself, only able to see her chin and her coat. The hair on the back of your neck raises as Polypa speaks to someone you can't see. You stand there frozen straining to hear the other person. "Who are you talking to Polypa?"
The knife clatters onto the chopping board as you suck in a panicked breath. You aren't ready to see anyone else. Not today. Not right now. You miss Polypa's reply as he takes her phone. You can't get your body to move, rooted to the spot as a new face comes into view. Teal eyes go wide behind his glasses and you watch him suck in a surprised breath.
"Give that back Tegiri!" Boldir snaps and you watch the camera blur as she obviously wrestles him for it.
"What is going on? You found them?" He sounds so hurt as he speaks but the guilt hardly registers over the overwhelming terror.
Teals talk.
Boldir's face comes into view, then Polypa's, then Tegiri's as they fight over the phone the camera as blurred as your thoughts. Your hands shake as you fumble for your own phone. Pressing end call you sink down onto the floor. They'll know. They'll know and they'll look for you and then they'll be at your door and- the shrill beep of the timer interrupts your spiral and you jump to turn it off. You aren't ready but the universe does not care about that. Straining the noodles you put them back in the pot and add the tomato sauce. You have to stop thinking about that. You need a distraction. Something else to focus on other than the sense of dread.
When you set the table its for a dinner of four. You sincerely hope that's all there will be tonight.
hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon
-
alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.
I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back
Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share
AND LISTEN- LISTEN-
NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.
God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???
NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY
EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-
You can only reblog this today.
IT WASNT A JOKE??? THEY LIFTED THE BAN??? I HAVE SO MUCH TO POST NOW.
how y’all feelin
2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!
We’ll find you Amanda.
Your friendly pansexual fantasy writer and theorist. Come and be welcome. I'm happy to take requests for different fandoms as well! !!REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ENCOURAGED!!
143 posts