You Can Spam Boop Me!

We bought our new sweet kitten a harness for walks. We had her try it on to get her comfortable with it and I’m not sure she loved it. 

(Source)

Miwa....

Reference 👇👇👇

I found them on instagram but I didnt save the @ 😭😭😭 theyre so cute

Hello! This blog is my main blog and it's where I keep all my reblogs. If you'd like to see my art, go check out @windingdaysandnights

My main fandoms are Slay The Princess and Rain World but I will also occasionally post The Stanley Parable, Hollow Knight, In Stars and Time, and Slime Rancher :3

every once in a while I'll reblog some birds under the tag #lovely bird. so for the people who are jut here for that, yeah.

I do take asks at @windingdaysandnights as well!! Yell into the wind, maybe it'll yell back :)

Late Valentine's special!! Kind of bad becuz I was experimenting haha

WAIT omg the Voice of the Smitten as an aromantic who overcompensates. He's not in love with the Princess. He's in love with the idea of loving the Princess, because that's what he's "supposed" to do. He wants so badly to make it work and be in a conventional romantic relationship, and he really does want her to be happy, but he holds the traditional idea that an important part of masculinity is protecting a woman and providing for her and being both her knight in shining armor and her devoted husband. He expresses love weirdly because that's his idea of what love is "supposed" to look like. He doesn't understand romance, but he's fixated on the storybook projection of it, allegory of the cave style, so he leans strongly into that archetype and gets it all wrong. I really think the Smitten just doesn't want to be alone. Poor boy, unlearning heteronormativity and embracing relationship anarchy would've saved you

NEVER LET YOURSELF BE STOPPED BY WHAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE IF YOU STARTED EARLIER!!!!! THE ONLY TIME WE HAVE IS NOW

Wrote a thing for the voices, based on this

The Paranoid let out an indignant noise when he was unceremoniously dropped into the Hunted’s nest for the second time that day.

“How was the bathroom?” The Broken allowed a rare smile to crack onto his face.

“Oh fuck off.” The Paranoid huffed, ears flicking in irritation.

The Hunted had come to the less than logical conclusion that because The Paranoid had plucked most of his wings’ feathers, and because The Broken had no wings to begin with, that the chill of the winter air would kill them. So he took it upon himself to kidnap them, lock them both in his room, and force them to sit in his nest of blankets and pillow.

“How long?” “Until spring.”

Yeah, fuck that.

The Paranoid had already made an escape attempt, by asking if he could use the restroom. He had hoped that he could hide the rest of the day until The Hunted got it all out of his system.

Unfortunately, while reading a book to pass the time, The Paranoid heard quite the commotion happening elsewhere in the living room that he couldn’t see. Eventually, a frazzled looking avian overturned the couch he was hiding behind. The Hunted let out a quick sigh of relief before throwing The Paranoid over his shoulder, like one would a sack of potatoes.

They passed the Opportunist on their way back, who was in awe of the apparent wreckage the Hunted had caused in his mad search. The Paranoid gave him a pleading look, but just as the Opportunist opened his mouth the Hunted sharply turned with a scalding glare. He’d never before seen the Opportunist shut himself up quite so quickly.

“Don’t do that again.” The Hunted said in that clipped way he often did.

“Why should I even bother? The others will catch on and won’t let it continue.” The Paranoid replied, flopping forward, face falling into a pillow. “All you’re really doing is delaying the inevitable, they’ll get us out of here eventually.”

“They can try, I won’t let them.” The Hunted clicked, nestling between the two.

The Paranoid looked up, a disbelieving look on his face. “There are nine of them and one of you! What do you mean you ‘won’t let them’?”

The Hunted gave a small shrug as he spread his wings to cover the two prisoners. “You’ll see, if it comes down to it.”

The Paranoid tried to ignore the shiver that traveled up his spine.

“You should just accept it, we’re not getting out of this, not anytime soon at least. May as well enjoy it.” Broken suggested, snuggling deeper into the sea of blankets.

“I don’t see why you’re so okay with this.” The Paranoid returned.

“Well,” The Broken started, “it’s warm, it’s comfortable, we’re cared for, what more could one want?”

“A choice?”

“Choices hurt us.”

“Choices freed us.”

The Hunted flapped his wings, earning sounds of startle from the two flightless avians. “No arguing about the past. Go to sleep.”

“Is this some lousy attempt to get us to hibernate? Birds don’t do that.” The Paranoid pointed out.

The Hunted’s bigger, much healthier wing pressed down onto him, it was warm and its touch was strangely comforting despite its messy feel from the Hunted’s recent treasure hunt. “Some do, on special occasion.”

“Does this count as ‘special occasion’?”

“Yes.”

“We have a house.”

“Go to sleep.”

“An insulated, warm house.”

“Go to sleep.”

The Paranoid let out a defeated sigh, it was pointless arguing with their instinct, because instinct had a funny habit of steamrolling all in its path. He wiggled his lower half into the forest of blankets and pillows; if he was going to be stuck here then he was going to at least try to relax. He laid his heavy head on his crossed arms, just as the Broken brought a pillow to his chest.

“Maybe choices did make things better, in the end, but right now you might benefit from not thinking too hard.” The Broken softly proposed.

“Yeah yeah.” Was his response.

—

The Hunted sat up, as slowly as he could as to not disturb the two he’d placed under his care.

He saw the Broken giving in easily, but he didn’t anticipate he’d be able to get the Paranoid to sleep, not with his jumpy nature, that presented itself even within his dreams.

They both needed preening, he thought. The Broken never took care of himself properly, always ignoring layers of dirt stuck under plumage, and bent, broken feathers that likely stuck into him like needles. The Paranoid didn’t fair much better with the depressing state he’d rendered his wings to, the feathers had been plucked so thoroughly that flying was an impossibility.

The Hunted ran his clawed fingers through both of their feathers, cooing when they both let out pleased, sleepy hums.

“Hey, what’s going on-“ The Hunted whipped his head around so fast that one might think he snapped his neck. He gave the Opportunist, who had just casually walked into his den without permission, a chilling stare. A rattle started up in his throat, promising death.

“Whoa! Holy- calm down!” The Opportunist shouted, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Leave.” The Hunted growled.

“Don’t have to ask me twice! I was just worried, you know? With the whole-“

“Go.”

“Yes, right, going now, doing that, as we speak.”

The Hunted didn’t calm even as the door clicked shut, only allowing his feathers to relax after clawed footsteps faded away.

He could blockade the door later, right now he had some preening to do.

A gift for @bloopygooo Go check them out if you haven't already This isn't a suggestion. Check out their art. Featuring Squiggles and My Narrator Tiers!