#A-F🥀

[deathdetermineslife]

"I don't want ppl to think I'm cringe—" NO. you go draw yourself smooching that fictional character RIGHT NOW. they LOVE YOU. be FREE. you have an entire community of ppl who support you, now shoo, go write that drabble!

[liilacwine]

stimming by holding his face in my hands and tracing his eyebrows and his cheekbones and his jawline

stimming by pressing my face against his, or against his hair or his hands

stimming by following the paths of bones and veins in his arms with my fingers and eyes

[mourambles]

Fall F/o Reblog Game!!

(CLOSED)

Reblog this w/ a pic of your f/o (and you/your s/i too if you want!!) and I'll give you a fall activity to do together!!

edit: so many of these are halloween themed lol- im sorry

Ex: Hellboy and I are gonna bake pumpkin roll cakes!! (two bc bro could deffo finish a whole cake himself 💀)

[selfshipgushing]

i think i’ve been thinking of computers and robots and. other things a little too much recently WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME !

can someonenfind tgat “you would selfship with the computer” image do you guys know what im on about

-🥀🧪

idk what you're talking about so I made you this meme in compensation

[oc-fo-self-indulgence]

your F/O(s) would absolutely love you even with all your faults, struggles, issues, even traumas, that make you feel completely and entirely unlovable.

they love you; not only do they love you, but they actively try to help you heal and move past these things.

your F/O(s) love you, you mean more than the whole entire universe to them <3

[herrling]

i still kinda suck ass at this but wheehehehe

can't hear haters cuz we're kissing lolol

rbs are appreciated!

[selfshipinbox]

♡ welcome to the gushing station . . . ♡

hi! this is an account dedicated for selfshippers / fictosexuals to gush about their f/os! my name is mimi. im 18 & i use she/it pronouns! im also a fictosexual!!! yippee!! *happy noises*

posts will be queued instead of being posted all at once. please don't be scared! D:

racists, zionists, homophobes, proshippers, and radqueer interaction will be blocked. nsfw asks will also be blocked. this blog is for all ages.

anon list:

emohubby anon

🛹 anon

🥀📜 anon

🩶 anon

☎️🎄 anon

⚡️🎀 anon

🧁🖍 anon

☎️🐾 anon

[lethalchiralium]

wait wait wait!! you mentioned that you wanted to kill the missus quite a few times and mellie’s birth au was just 👌

so how about making simon’s fear with losing the missus with the home birth come true? i mean, atleast she dies in his arms unlike with mellie au? they can say goodbye and simon can self flagellate more by blaming his self for agreeing into this shit show that is now turning into a nightmare. imagine his panic during and his helplessness with needing to care for the baby while tending to you just bleeding over that bath tub. and goddamn it, why is the ambulance taking so long?!

-🥀

all of you are evil like me and i love it. I LOVE IT.

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8j9wEah/ , look. LOOK. grown out beard and hair simon is everything i need, he always has been and will always be happiness simon 🤠) (thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for some dialogue and overall delulu with me teehee)

WARNINGS: child birth, blood, character death, grief.

HAPPINESS AU.

Winnie and Mellie were gone for the weekend with Soap and Price by the time you were having your first contraction. Simon rushed home after your phone call, letting the small bag of groceries land on the table without stopping. He was up the stairs in two seconds flat, his shoes dragging rain throughout your house - he didn’t care. It was time. He burst through the bathroom door, similar to the way he did when you miscarried your first son. Now, he burst through the door, ready to help you deliver your son.

You had already set up plastic tarps and towels for your delivery in your bathtub; warm water level kept at a two inch height, a pillow behind your back as your hands gripped the rim of the porcelain. He was instantly tearing off his shoes, tossing them into the bedroom as he asked, “Give me the word and I’ll call the ambulance right now, love.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smirk, eyes screwed shut as you tried to stay quiet during the contraction, but you ultimately failed. A low groan came from the center of your chest as Simon quickly washed his hands, then moved to you. He smiled as he kissed your head, nervous as all Hell but ready to meet his son. His hand gently curled around the back of your head, the other settled just beside your hand that gripped the tub.

As soon as you let go and your eyes opened, Simon took your hand. Kissing the back of it, his smile made your heartbeat climb. He truly was the most beautiful person you knew.

“Ready to meet our baby?” You whispered, your own smile on your face as your empty hand rested on your belly.

He laughed, kissing your lips. He kept his face close to yours as he pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m ready.” He stayed there for just a second before he moved, getting into the tub to kneel between your legs. His eyes met yours, he spoke softly, “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, hand reaching for his - your fingers linking together linked together with his as you uttered the words, “I want to do this with just you.” You wanted to have this experience with just him and him alone.

He held out his other hand and you took it, the tremors in your belly grew painful again, another contraction roared its head and you squeezed your eyes shut. He glanced down, his heart racing as he could see his son crowning. Your hands trembled, your head began to compress as you gritted your teeth; this was the worst one yet. It felt like everything was pulling, pulling, pulling until-

Snap.

The scream you let out was terrifying, but Simon still clutched your hands tightly as you squeezed his. Something was wrong.

“Simon- Simon, call the ambulance.”

His eyes looked up to your face, panic instantly running through his chest. “What?”

“Something’s-“ A wince left your throat. Tears fell faster from your eyes, the red hot pain in your pelvis felt like it was increasing dramatically at every second.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s-“

He looked back down and all he saw was blood.

He didn’t even remember calling 999 by the time he was in the tub, kneeling in front of you and covered in your blood. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he was scared, he felt nothing but fear as he pulled his son out, taking him into his arms. Blood rushed out of you, Simon pressed a towel in between your legs to try and curb the bleeding, his eyes watching you frantically. With his knee pressing the towel into you, his one free hand reached for you.

Your eyes began to haze over, tears in them as you spoke, “I don’t- I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not, sweetheart. You’re not gonna die on me.” He spoke, squeezing your hand before he began to move his son to rest on your bare chest. “Gotta hold ‘im, love. Just for a second, I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

You have him a languid nod, your hand coming to rest on top of your baby as he cried against your sweaty skin.

“His name.” Your voice was broken, tired; your hands weak against your strong baby as he cried and cried.

Simon pulled the towel away, it was soaked with blood. He grabbed another from the stack beside the tub, pressing it in between your legs again with his knee before he looked back to you. Your face full of tears, your hands cradling your son.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” His head looked up towards the bathroom door, hoping he would hear paramedics enter through his front door - but he heard nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Simon.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t want to be someone who hurts you after… after I’ve done so much to heal you.”

He heard movement, a call from his living room and hope sparked in his chest. His head jolted towards the door, he shouted back, “Up here! She’s up here!” He looked back to you. “They’re here, love. Just a minute longer and they can help you, okay?” He could hear the boots as they ran through the house, he gazed at your exhausted face. “I’m gonna have to move you, love. Hold onto him, hold onto the baby.”

You barely nodded before he let go of your hands, then he was quick to get out of the tub - he pulled you up and out of the tub, his heart stung as he heard your broken scream of pain. He placed you on the ground, taking another towel and pressing it between your legs. There was so much blood, Simon couldn’t even think straight as he placed more towels underneath your head.

“Just a minute longer.”

Your eyes opened, tears pouring from them as you struggled to smile and nod. “Okay, Si. Okay.”

The paramedics came through the doorway, instantly dropping bags of medical equipment onto the tile floor. Simon moved to kneel beside her head, he ignored the paramedics as they began to work on you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as he held your face.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He gave you a reassuring smile, trying to keep you in good spirits. He wanted you to be okay, he needed you to be okay. “You’re fine, everything’s fine.”

There was a low rumble that came from your throat, you glanced down at your son before looking back up at your husband. Your wonderful, beautiful husband who loved you more than you have ever been loved in your entire life. “Take him.”

Those words made Simon’s blood turn ice cold. You had waited so long to hold your son, you were meant to hold him, they were working on you. You would be fine. “N-No. You-“

“I’m fine, remember?”

“But-“ If I take him, you’ll leave.

“I’m fine, baby. Take our son.” If there was a moment when he could stop time and admire your face, it would be then. It would be when your smile was small, you looked so hopeful. “…Please, Simon.”

His hands felt ice cold as he gently pulled his warm newborn from your chest, the baby pawed at his chest as he wailed. He looked to a paramedic, they nodded and reached for his son, taking him from Simon’s blood stained hands. Your husband looked back to you, watching your lively eyes begin to dull and flutter closed.

“I love you, Simon Riley.”

“No, baby, no-“

“I love you.”

“Y/N Riley, open your eyes. Open your eyes, goddammit!” One hand gently smacked your cheek, the other held the hand with your beautiful wedding ring on it. “Don’t- Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

His son screamed across the room, to Simon it sounded like he was begging for you to stay too.

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, c’mon. Wake up, it’s not funny. It’s not-“ He choked on a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would never forget how warm you were, how warm your hand was, how warm your blood was. “Baby. Y/N. Please. I can’t do this- I can’t do this again.”

Nothing left your lips.

His chest curled inwards, his heart crushing with every beat. Red hot spears went through his spine, through his arms and legs - the warm light that came from the light fixture felt like a thousand needles in his skin. He felt anger. He wanted to break his hand in the wall beside him, wanted to scream as loud as he could, for as long as he could. He wanted to die at that exact moment.

He wanted to tell you he loved you, but the wave of grief had walled and hit him dead on. He bowed his head to you, sobs leaving his chest as his hands held your face and hand.

The paramedics sat and watched the display, yet their hands prodded at Simon, trying to move him away from you. A scream ripped from his throat, his face then buried in your neck as nauseating sobs escaped his lips.

You were supposed to stay. You were so excited to meet your son, so excited to have this stupid home birth, excited to be doing it with him. You always loved him so much, and he showed you that he loved you by constantly choosing his career over you - but you were always so understanding. You just wanted to have a baby with him, have him be there with you, to hold and comfort you.

His sobs became silent and painful when he came to a devastating realization.

You would never see your babies grow up.

gotta love the angsty happiness asks

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[hartz4medea]

what the fuck i just saw a post from a fucking proshipper that selfshippers are basically pro/com shippers what the fuck

Is this true???/genq

I’m pretty new to the community despite selfshipping for YEARS

So I’m genuinely confused

[rowenasdarling]

WAAAAAAAAAA LOOK WHAT MY BELOVED FRIEND @remdeans DREW SCREAMS N CRIES N FALLS TO MY KNEES DJKHGAFLNGAJLGSKHNAOEJL

[seaside-lovers-archive]

Learning to Trust Again

art by @/shadowmisfire | divider by @/chachachannah

Scarecrow is visited by a new friend who brings him a gift.

Word count: 1,079 words

Scarecrow lay in the darkness, curled up into the corner as tightly as he possibly could, cursing his masters for their decisions. Of all the things for us to share, the ability to feel pain is one they had to give… Every part of his body ached, his joints creaking in protest as he shifted, trying to get comfortable under the pile of cushions.

While he certainly was not going to turn down the opportunity to live once again, he certainly had not missed the physical pains that came with life. While his kind were certainly made to be healed at least once, a second time was mostly unheard of, and being brought back from the dead was thought to be impossible… until he found himself back on his home planet with a human ship several hundred feet away.

He shifted again, his neck stiff against the pillow which provided little comfort against the wooden slats. A human shelter would never have been his first choice but he was not going to reject shelter. He was wiser than that. Any shelter was better than no shelter, especially considering the weather patterns of Alpha Centauri had been rainy lately. Rain would not help his body at all.

A noise, shuffling of small feet against dirt. His sensors lit up like explosions, alerting him to a possible threat. Despite his aching body, he was up in an instant, lasers powering up, ready to fight for his newly given life.

“Scarecrow…? It’s me. I wanted to check on you.” The barn door creaked open, Kate’s silhouette bright against the dim atmosphere outside.

He forced himself to relax, powering down his lasers and tucking his upper arms back into their place. He realized his body was shivering and his joints flaring, being reminded of electricity coursing through them. You’re not in danger. You’re fine. She’s not going to hurt you. This mantra repeated in his head over and over again, trying to remind him that this was not a bad human.

He took a moment to force himself to focus on her as she gently closed the door behind her, then approached the ladder that led to his loft. “Can I come up?”

He slowly approached the ledge and peered over, staring down at the human. She stared right back up at him, blinking slowly, waiting for his permission.

He gestured for her to climb, then retreated back to his corner, listening to her footsteps and light humming.

She approached him slowly and carefully. Scarecrow assumed he scared her - he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He could easily rip her to shreds if he wanted to. And yet, despite his assumption, she didn’t seem to actually fear him in any way. Her cautiousness seemed almost… respectful, in a way.

She smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling, and held out something - he had not noticed it tucked under her arm before.

A blanket.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, still smiling. There - that was a hint of nervousness. His first meeting with her after she had offered the barn to him was similar - that never-disappearing smile, a sign of her not knowing how to handle what she had gotten herself into. 

He craned his neck to get a better look at it - the material seemed soft, dyed a dark red with white symbols scattered across it. The human interpretation of stars, he noted. He stayed where he was, staring at the blanket, then looking up at her. What would I need a blanket for? 

Kate’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I figured the cushions aren’t much protection against the cold. Maybe you don’t even get cold… but something soft might still be a comfort to you.” 

He tilted his head to the side, curiosity getting the better of him, then reached forward slowly. Taking the blanket from her outstretched hand, he felt his claws gently trace along her rough soft fingers as he drew his arm back. Scarecrow held the blanket up in front of his screen, inspecting it further.

A comfort. That was a good word to use for the blanket. He had always been fond of red, and the blanket was a nice shade. While he scoffed at the crudely shaped stars, he still liked the way the white broke up the continuous red and formed a nice pattern. He finally drew the blanket up to his chest and began to knead it, enjoying the feeling of the material under his claw.

Scarecrow glanced back up after a few moments to see Kate smiling again, a much more relaxed smile than before. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned and began to walk toward the ladder, waving to him at the same time. “Let me know if you need anything else, Scarecrow. You know where to find me.” As she began her descent down the ladder, Scarecrow found himself feeling more trustful of a human than he had in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

Kate paused momentarily, turning back to face him, eyebrows raised. “Well… you’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile before turning back and climbing down the ladder. He listened carefully as she exited the barn, the sound of her footsteps and quiet humming fading into the rain.

Well, she was certainly right about the blanket. He was much more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He began to knead the blanket with both of his lower arms, feeling a rumbling starting up deep in his chest as he enjoyed the texture. 

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this source of purring isn’t just because of the blanket. An image of Kate smiling warmly at him flitted through his mind, but he quickly squashed that thought back down into the dark recesses of his memories; he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with that whole situation yet. 

He would, in time.

How that would go, he had no clue. But he knew he had her patience, and she had given him all the time in the world to build up his trust.

Soon, perhaps, we can get to know her better, he thought, settling back down into the cushions with the blanket wrapped in his arms. The pattering of rain continued as he was lulled into rest mode, thoughts of Kate’s smile warming him from the inside out.

[deathdetermineslife]

fun things you can do when you have an f/o!

print out pictures of them to hang up on your wall!

if they wear jewelry, make it!

make stickers of them! (there's tutorials on youtube of how to make stickers at home, or, you can get sticker paper on amazon for pretty cheap, mine was $6!)

if you do make stickers, put them on your sketchbook, journal, laptop, or whatever you feel like putting them on!

make a google slides presentation on them! alternatively, you could also write an essay about them.

if they don't have a canonical style of handwriting, find or try to write in a way they would write!

if they do, try making your own font of their handwriting that you can download and use. or, try to learn how to write similarly to them, maybe write letters to yourself from their perspective.

if they have a birthday or there's a holiday coming up (irl or canonical), make a card for them!

make them in the sims, or some other character creation making game. or, make a minecraft skin of them.

draw them as a character from another source. for example, draw them as a pony from mlp, or draw them as a character from smiling friends!

make a playlist of youtube videos you'd think they'd enjoy watching, and perhaps watch them again and pretend like you're watching them with your f/o.

make food they canonically like, or you'd think they'd like!

make a tier list as if they were making it! like a fruit tier list, for example.

if I think of anything else, I'll make a part 2!

[thats-how-i-like-it]

save me dark haired men with scruff in their thirties who are father figures who want to act like they wouldn't die for their 10+ kids, save me, save me men with a lot of trauma who are saved and given hope by their kids.

SAVE MEEE.

[hiagainyou]

{ ღ cw: suggestive fluff, waxing poetic about f/o's and love, being cherished by someone, the word fuck used once, implied sex}

{ ღ mdni banner template by the lovely @/omiyours }

Most people think that the first time is the only time that they're soft with you, that once the moment's lost they'll fuck you into oblivion and nothing less. That the first time is designated to be soft, loving, gentle, and that they can only be that gentle on special occasions like an anniversary or a birthday. When really every moment is a special moment with you. The simple fact of you being here, of you existing beside them and cherishing them as though they sculpted the very Earth you walk on. Everything about you is cherished, every tender moment overflowing with their love, every soft sigh and pout of your perfect lips etched into their memory and admired in the busy hustle and bustle of your lives. They love you, belittling you to just a vessel to relieve their desires is a disgrace upon your being

[selfshipgushing]

i love projecting my ethnicity on my non-human F/Os,like yeah trust me bro.. 🌼 is black he told me himself.. 🥀 is older than time and can’t possibly be black,you say? sorry,he told me he’s black and my husband wouldn’t lie to me,so.. /silly /j

-🥀🧪

hi I'm back I'm done being busy sigh

[oc-fo-self-indulgence]

Imagine what your bedtime routine looks like with your F/O(s)!

What do their pajamas look like? Fancy? Cute? Just really comfy?

Do they take a shower at night? Do you? If you both do, how do you work around that? Who showers first? Or is it together?

Do any of you need noise while you sleep? Do you guys cuddle? Are one of both/all of you a blanket hog?

Just!!! what are the bedtime rituals that have fallen into place throughout the time of your life together <3