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#belly suffing
creamyandrich · 8 months
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please consider the following. mettaton with a massive stuffed tum ,,
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"HA! Haha... Hello, Darling, you seem to have ah... caught me at a bad time..."
"That's not a camera, is it?"
-
CONSIDERED AND APPROVED
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I have an idea for an SU AU since I saw SUF Together Forever episode, because I got (and still am) EXTREMELY PISSED that Ruby and Sapphire gave the bullshit advice to PROPOSE TO CONY SO THEY CAN BE TOGETHER FOREVER, I know that their aliens so they don't understand human norms and stuff, but it's still madning that these two fools made Steven's mental state worse and made him do this insane action so he can feel that Connie wouldn't abandon him like he thought the other gems were doing. So after finishing the episode, I brainstormed an AU that all gem kind were extinct or corrupted, so Steven lives a normal life with Greg as a normal kid, I guess being picked on for his gem belly button or not having a mom, and later exploring with Connie (and maybe some other characters) of why he has a gem belly button, why he has powers, and why there's weird creatures that poof when killed.
I have 0 drawing skills in the SU style, and I have to watch SU to have more context to the world-building, but I think it would be a fanfic If I ever have the motivation and courage to do it, so I'll let this idea be taken over by more capable people if they want too, so be free to use my idea if you like, please do so! I would love to see it!
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Best Laid Plans
Chaol Westfall wants nothing more than to celebrate his first Valentine’s day as a married man with his wife Yrene. He made a tidy list and everything, full of all her favorite foods and activities. 
Unfortunately, the baby in her belly is determined to ruin all of Chaol’s plans, one bullet point at a time.
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For Day 2 of @sjmromanceweek 2023: Love Languages. I think Chaol shows his love through acts of service and I wanted to explore how that might look with Yrene. I love Chaol and Yrene and I've been wanting to write them for a while so this worked out perfectly!
Rating: General/E for Everyone. Pure fluff. Also, there are spoilers for the movie The Princess Bride oddly enough so if you don't want to be spoiled, go watch that and come back.
Word Count: 2.5K
Read on A03
Chaol hadn’t anticipated how excited he could be for Valentine’s day until he had married Yrene. 
Wonderful, smart, beautiful, far too good for him Yrene. It hadn’t been love at first sight for either of them when he opened his eyes the first time after his car crash, paralyzed from the waist down. No, she had huffed into his room and angrily declared she was going to fix him.
And she had, in all the ways that mattered. Their rehab appointments blossomed into a date, then another date, then a few brief months later they were married and Chaol had never been happier. 
He had secretly started planning for their first Valentine’s day as a married couple - as a couple at all, really - while on their honeymoon in the cozy cottage in the Scottish Highlands they had rented, just a few weeks after their courthouse marriage. The idea of spending all day doing their favorite activities made him giddy with excitement and love for the woman who had saved it in more ways than one. It was going to be perfect.
And then Yrene woke up one morning holding three positive pregnancy tests like a poor imitation of a royal flush and all of his ideas for their perfect Valentine’s day were shattered.
“I’m pregnant,” Yrene breathed, smiling and dazed, and she threw herself into Chaol’s stunned arms and squeezed him so tight he was glad he still suffered from some partial numbness in his body or it would have hurt. “We’re going to be parents.”
He was happy - thrilled, honestly, but as the news finally sunk in later that evening, he realized his perfect Valentine's day for Yrene was ruined. Sighing, he canceled the reservation with the four star Michelin sushi restaurant that served the freshest Japanese tuna known to mankind. 
Okay, so there’d be no sushi or romantic horseback ride - Chaol was adaptable. He could change his plans. After all, isn’t that what loving husbands were for?
X
Chaol’s alarm on his smartwatch woke him up at 8 AM sharp. Yrene was turned on her side away from him, deep in sleep. Operation Valentine’s Day was a go.
Creeping out of bed, he quietly made his way downstairs to the kitchen. First step: breakfast in bed with homemade pancakes, crispy bacon and scrambled eggs with avocado toast. 
Loading everything on the wooden food tray, he carefully climbed the creaky wooden steps to their bedroom and saw a small stream of light peeking under the door. Smiling softly to himself, he walked in and saw the light was coming from their master bathroom, and the dreaded sounds of retching immediately hit his ears. 
Quickly setting the tray on the bed, he made his way to the bathroom to see Yrene bent over the toilet. He gathered her hair behind her head and pressed a wet rag to her forehead.
“Are you alright?” Chaol asked, terrified. “Are you sick? What do you need?”
She spit into the bowl and flushed. “It’s just a bit of morning sickness,” she said, turning her weary gaze to his. She sat down and leaned her head against the wall. “Baby just didn’t like something I ate apparently.”
Chaol bit his lip. “Isn’t five months a bit late for morning sickness? I thought that was only a first trimester thing.”
She shrugged. “For most women, yeah. Some lucky ones have to suffer through it all nine months.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
He grinned. “I brought you breakfast -”
Yrene immediately threw herself back on the toilet, gagging and spitting, as Chaol looked on, slack jawed. 
“Thank you dear,” she gasped out, giving him a teary eyed smile when she was done. “That was very nice of you. I’m not sure I have the stomach for breakfast at the moment - do you want to eat it for me?”
Chaol had no appetite either but he shoved a piece of cold, limp bacon into his mouth after Yrene had cleaned up and crawled back into bed. “Love you,” he whispered, kissing her on the forehead and taking the mostly uneaten breakfast downstairs to clean up and regroup.
He checked the list he had made on his phone, typing a big ‘X’ next to breakfast. Not off to the best start but he still had a whole day planned for the two of them. Next on the agenda was a couple’s yoga class he had signed them up for. Yrene loved yoga - she often used it as a form of additional therapy when the stressors of her job and past became too much, and she had even roped Chaol into going once or twice. 
She sat up in bed and squealed in delight when Chaol told her to get ready. “I haven’t done a class in ages!” she exclaimed, running up to him and giving him a big kiss on the mouth.
Chaol preened under her attention. “Better get ready then,” he said, giving her a swat on her butt as he turned towards his dresser to change.
At least this was going to work. He had just pulled on a shirt when he heard a snuffling behind him. Turning, he saw Yrene standing in front of their full length mirror with a pair of leggings pulled up as far as they could stretch, almost comically resting under her belly. 
There was nothing funny about this though. Chaol could handle a lot but the one thing he couldn't stand was Yrene’s tears. Rushing over, he gathered her in his arms right as she began wailing. “Nothing fits anymore!”
Chaol kissed her forehead, willing his own tears away. She had finally “popped” within the last few weeks, her stomach rounding out in a way that was obvious to everyone that she hadn’t just eaten a large meal and was suffering from an intense bloat. He laid a hand on her belly and rubbed soothing circles into her skin. 
“Do you want to borrow some of my shorts or sweatpants?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” she moaned into her chest. “None of my sports bras fit either. My boobs are too big, and the material hurts my nipples.”
“How can I help? What can I do for you?”
Yrene turned her teary, puppy dog eyes on him and Chaol had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from crying at the sight. God help him if they had a daughter - she’d be a spoiled princess once she figured out she’d only need to turn on the water works to get anything she wanted out of him. 
“Cuddle in bed with me for a little bit?”
As if he would ever refuse that. Grabbing his phone so he could cancel their spots for yoga, Yrene laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him as best she could. Trailing a hand up and down her back, Chaol thought about the rest of the day. 
He had planned to take her out to her favorite coffee and bakery spot after yoga, followed by an easy walk in their local arboretum but he figured she wouldn’t want to do that, seeing as how she had already fallen back asleep, her little snores muffled against his chest. 
He checked his list and added three more ‘Xs’. Baby Westfall: 4. Chaol: 0. It was as if their child was determined to ruin their father’s hard laid plans every step of the way. 
The late afternoon sun was streaming into their kitchen by the time Chaol began working on dinner. He had gotten Yrene to eat a little by giving her her favorite pregnancy snack - pickle spears smothered in peanut butter - and was cautiously optimistic that she would have an appetite for dinner. She couldn’t have sushi, her favorite food, but she could still eat her second favorite meal, roast chicken and pasta. 
Chaol had just set a timer on the microwave for the chicken when Yrene padded downstairs in her fluffiest robe. Yawning, she sidled into one of the high chairs at the kitchen island and smiled at him. “Goodness I’m starving - what are you making?”
“Your second favorite meal, since sushi is off the menu for a while,” Chaol replied, feeling pretty pleased with himself. “That lemon roasted chicken and pasta recipe you love so much.”
To her credit, Yrene kept her face composed but Chaol saw the slight downturn of the corner of her lips, the sudden dimming of her eyes.
“Oh no,” Chaol said, grimacing as she grinned sheepishly at him. “Don’t tell me -”
“The baby isn’t really feeling chicken tonight,” she said apologetically. “I’m really sorry, you’ve been putting so much effort in to today -”
“It’s alright,” Chaol said softly, forcing a smile to let her know he wasn’t mad, though he was definitely a little upset at his child for thwarting him yet again. “What are you in the mood for?”
Yrene hummed and opened the fridge, opening a bottle of cranberry juice and taking a big gulp before opening the freezer. She gasped and bent over and held out a brightly colored bag to him.
“Pizza rolls?” He said incredulously. “And not even Totinos, but off-brand?”
“They’re the best!” Yrene replied. “Please? Oh! And how about some sweet potato fries?” she said, holding up another frozen food bag. 
“Of course,” he sighed, kissing her forehead. “I was going to make chocolate pudding for dessert -”
She grimaced. “Maybe not. Texture has been a big thing for the baby lately.”
“I figured that, so I came prepared,” he said, pulling out a bag of Swedish Fish from the pantry.
She moaned with relief. “God, you’re the best husband ever.” She gave him a big hug and opened the bag of sweets, popping one in her mouth before offering the bag to him. 
He checked his phone while they crammed pizza rolls into their mouths. He put yet another ‘X’ next to dinner, and then, for good measure, burned the roof of his mouth on the molten cheese that erupted from the little pizza pocket crust in his mouth. Clearly, his unborn child had something against him. 
“How about a movie?” he asked as they finished their gourmet freezer dinner. She nodded and they made their way to the couch, Yrene with the bottle of cranberry juice and candy tucked at her side. Getting comfortable, he put on her favorite film - The Princess Bride - before he pulled her over so her head was in his lap.
“Chaol Westfall, you are an absolute gem,” she said, as the opening scenes of the movie came on. 
He smiled. “You deserve it.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and snuggled close, finally ready to put a mental ‘W’ in his column and an ‘L’ for the baby. 
Yrene sniffled. Then she sniffled again. Then she dragged her hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears gathered there.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” she choked out through gasps, “it’s not fair, is it?”
Chaol’s mind was whirling, trying to make sense of what she was talking about. What had he done? What hadn’t he done? Was she upset that she was pregnant while Chaol didn’t have to suffer the changes going through her? 
“I mean, Buttercup is just so mean to Wesley, and he already loves her, and he doesn’t deserve it!” she bawled, fat tears leaking down her cheeks. 
For a split second Chaol had never felt more relieved in his life that he wasn’t the source of his wife’s tears. Relief turned into confusion as he stared at her.
“I thought this was your favorite movie?”
“It is,” she gasped through her tears.
He reached over and handed her a box of tissues. “Do you want me to stop it? We can watch something else.”
“No!” she shrieked. “It’s my favorite movie!”
“But you’re crying!”
“It’s just my stupid hormones,” she said. “You know I cry all the time now for no good reason.”
As Chaol listened to Yrene quote the movie practically line by line through her thick tears - she was especially emotional when Buttercup and Wesley were separated, and when Inigo Montoya got revenge for his father’s death - Chaol had to hand it towards their unborn child: when they committed to absolutely dunking on their father, they went hard. At the end of the day, it was Baby Westfall with the sweep: six for six, Chaol thought almost bitterly. 
Yrene was completely sobbing by the end of the movie as everyone rode off into the sunset. “It’s such a good movie,” she moaned through her sobs. 
Well, at least she had a good time. Chaol tried to keep his voice light as he suggested they get ready for bed but Yrene heard the disappointment behind his words.
“Hold on,” she sniffed, refusing to let him get off the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” he began, suddenly embarrassed. He sighed. “I’m sorry Yrene. I tried to make our first Valentine’s day together perfect but everything went wrong.”
She furrowed her brows at him and sat up, wiping the last tears from her reddened cheeks away. “What do you mean?”
“I made you breakfast in bed and you couldn’t have it because the baby gave you morning sickness. I signed us up for yoga, none of your clothes fit. I made you one of your favorite meals, the baby decided they wanted something else. We watched your favorite movie and you cried nearly the entire time. I just wanted to give you the perfect day and frankly, the baby sabotaged all of it,” he ended, only scowling a little. 
Yrene laughed and despite his misery, that all too familiar flutter hammered through his chest at the sight and sound of it. “Don’t listen to him, little one,” she said, staring down and patting her stomach. “He’s just a little upset that you ruined all his hard work.”
“Yeah I am,” he grumbled, but laughed along with Yrene.
“This was the best Valentine’s day I’ve ever had,” Yrene said, looking up at him and staring at him with such love and adoration on her face he nearly stopped breathing. “And you know why?”
Shaking his head numbly, a small thrill went through him as she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers. “Because I spent the whole day with my amazing and caring and handsome husband, and I can’t think of anything more lovely than that.”
She pulled him in for a kiss and his hand fell to her stomach, where their baby’s kicks beat like a drum against him. 
“See? They’re happy they got to spend all day with you too,” Yrene said, positively glowing.
How did he get so lucky to have found this amazing woman? “I love you,” Chaol whispered. “Happy Valentine’s day.”
“I love you,” Yrene said, leaning down to kiss him softly, and Chaol had to admit that even if their baby one-upped him all day long, it was still the best Valentine’s day ever. 
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smallfry372659 · 1 year
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How would you feel if I suffed lots of fun inside of you and rubbed your big chubby belly?
(Alright its time for serious mode!)
(Please be aware there is an actual person running this account, and this account is for fun. Fetish content being aimed at what I'm essentially portraying as a child or at the very least a MINOR is wickedly inappropriate and it makes me deeply uncomfortable. That being said, in fairness, I haven't properly put up a rules list or anything so you didn't know. You're getting a warning and not an immediate block.)
(However, randomly interacting with strangers on the basis and assumption of sexual interaction is EXTREMELY not cool, given doubly that I'm certain most of us have not given clear and concise consent for such interaction to take place. It's a wild overstep to have on the very first interaction with someone.)
(And for clarification, I have no issue with fetish content when Ive consented to it being part of the conversation. I will not be merciful to any further content like this in the future.)
(If I get too many asks like these, I will shut off anon and block people responsible, then the ask box will close for several days, ruining some of the fun of interacting with this blog for quite a few people. Please think of others and how you'll be seen when you ask things sorts of things publically.)
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hadeschan · 9 months
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item # N38E44
RARE Rian Phraya Tao Ruan Maha Larp, Luang Phu Lew, Roon Heng Heng, Nua Thongdang, Ok Wat Sai Thong Pattana. A mint copper coin, in a shape of a Wealth Fetching Turtle King with a dolly Pra Sangkajai Arahant rubbing tummy in the middle, this Batch was named Roon Heng Heng which means “Having Double Good Fortune”, made by Luang Phu Lew of Wat Rai Tangthong for Wat  Sai Thong Pattana (the 2nd Temple of Luang Phu Lew), Kanchanaburi Province in BE 2539 (CE 1996).
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Phraya Tao Ruan, the Turtle King, the Bodhisattva-turtle, a sentient being that seeks enlightenment and embraces the principle of compassion to liberate others from suffering. Phraya Tao Ruan helps push you away from hunger, poverty, financial difficulties, and all sufferings. Wealth fetching with prosperity, abundance, and Longevity.
A dolly Pra Sangkajai rubbing tummy or patting his large belly happily represents filling up with food endlessly, and putting an end to hanger. Pra Sankajai traditionally depicted as overweight and love of food and drink. Pra Sankajai with excess body fat, and solely a passive energy store is a symbol of wealth and prosperity as the general population struggled with food shortages and famine. Thais believe that Pra Sankajai amulet brings wealth, riches, contentment, abundance, and prosperity.
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BEST FOR: No more struggling financially with financially secure and at less risk of poverty and hunger. Phraya Tao Ruan signifies continuous growth and multiplication in wealth, money luck, and good fortune. Wealth Fetching, Maha Larp (it brings lucky wealth), Metta Maha Niyom (it makes people around you love you, be nice to you, and willing to support you for anything), Maha Sanay (it turns you to Prince Charming in the eyes of women), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling, and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back, Klawklad Plodpai (it pushes you away from all danger), Maha-ut (it helps stop gun from shooting at you), and warning of danger. And Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse and black magic, and poisonous animals). And this amulet helps protect you from manipulators, backstabbers, and toxic people.
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Phraya Tao Ruan, the Turtle King
According to the Jatakas, Jatakas are stories of previous lifetimes of the Buddha, Phraya Toa Ruan refers to the Bodhisattva-turtle, who saved lives, one of the previous life of Buddha.
A story that is often depicted in Buddhist art is the one where the Buddha in a previous life is a Bodhisattva-turtle (that is: a turtle who has vowed to save all sentient beings).
A tale of kindness and great compassion: In a past life, the Buddha appeared as a giant turtle who slept so long that a mountain grew on his back, and people built houses and burned fires. Awakened by the pain from the fires, and wanting to cool himself, the turtle began to crawl toward the sea. But upon seeing people living on his back, and not wanting tom hurt them, he slept another thousand years and endured the pain.
Another tale says, a group of merchants were sailing, when a storm hit. The giant Bodhisattva-turtle saw the ship wreck and saved the merchants by letting them climb on his back. He brought them safely to land. Tired from the long swim and heavy load he fell asleep on the sand. 
The merchants were hungry and thirsty and after the ordeal were still not sure of their lives. They discussed amongst themselves how to find food. One of them said that they should kill and eat the turtle.
The Bodhisattva-turtle heard this and out of compassion for the merchants, decided to stay put and be eaten.
NOTE: Bodhisattvas are sentient beings that seek enlightenment and embrace the principle of compassion to liberate others from suffering.
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Pra Sangkajai / Pra Sangkachai
In Thailand, Budai is sometimes confused with another similar monk widely respected in Thailand, Pra Sangkajai or Sangkachai. Pra Sangkajai, a Thai rendering of Maha Kaccana or Mahakaccayanathera, was a Buddhist Arhata (inSanskrit) or Arahant (in Pali) during the time of the Lord Buddha. Lord Buddha praised Pra Sangkadchai for his excellence in explaining sophisticated dharma(or dhamma) in an easily and correctly understandable manner. Pra Sangkajai (Maha Kaccana) also composed the Madhupinadika Sutra (Madhupindika Sutta MN 18).
One tale of the Thai folklore relates that he was so handsome that once even a man wanted him for a wife. To avoid a similar situation, Pra Sangkachai decided to transform himself into a fat monk. Another tale says he was so attractive that angels and men often compared him with the Buddha. He considered this inappropriate, so disguised himself in an unpleasantly fat body.
Although both Budai and Pra Sangkajai may be found in both Thai and Chinese temples, Pra Sangkajai is found more often in Thai temples, and Budai in Chinese temples. Two points to distinguish them from one another are:
1.Pra Sangkajai has a trace of hair on his head (looking similar to the Buddha’s) while Budai is clearly bald.
2.Pra Sangkajai wears the robes in Theravadin Buddhist fashion with the robes folded across one shoulder, leaving the other uncovered. Budai wears the robes in Chinese style, covering both arms but leaving the front part of the upper body uncovered.
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DIMENSION: 2.6 cm high / 2.00 cm wide / 0.30 cm thick
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item # N38E44
Price: price upon request, pls PM and/or email us [email protected]
100% GENUINE WITH 365 DAYS AUTHENTICITY GUARANTEE.
Item location: Hong Kong, SAR
Ships to: Worldwide
Delivery: Estimated 7 days handling time after receipt of cleared payment. Please allow additional time if international delivery is subject to customs processing.
Shipping: FREE Thailandpost International registered mail. International items may be subject to customs processing and additional charges.
Payments: PayPal / Western Union / MoneyGram /maybank2u.com / DBS iBanking / Wechat Pay / Alipay / INSTAREM / PromptPay International / Remitly
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merveeillee · 4 years
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Can’t stop twinkling gets yeeted by local alien boy
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ishowerwithcats · 4 years
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Bitch can you NoT
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clinko · 4 years
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Does Steven wash his gem like humans wash their bellybuttons?
I mean he is half human...
If his gem was on his hand I doubt that he wouldn’t wash his hands
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sashi-ya · 3 years
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Hiii!!! I'm the same anon that asked for the 'getting captured by marines' headcanons and I just want to say I loved them SO MUCH!!!!
I'm probably being super selfish right now, but I couldn't resist sending another request since your writing style is amazing, so...
I know you don't write for Kid that much but I love how you write him, so I was thinking maybe you could do a short scenario of him having a crush on one of his crewmembers who happens to be a doctor??? And the doctor taking care of his wounds after a rough battle?? I just think it would be cute, but I understand if I'm asking too much.
Take care!!!
Hi!! Of course my darling! I'm a doctor so I looove when I have to write for this type of prompt! I hope you enjoy it ♥ Take care my fellow Kid lover!. Thanks for your support!! 💖
Eustass Captain Kid x Doctor! Reader ~
TW: wounds, blood, needles. Fluff & Awkwardness. Bad words.
WC: 2288 ~
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“Stay still, Kid…”, you tell him as he won’t stop moving. “It fucking burns, you know”, Kid tells you, while you try to clean one of the several wounds on his arm. “Of course it burns, I’m trying to disinfect this cut with fucking sake. I told you we need to buy medical supplies”, you scold him, grabbing his huge arm as if that would be enough to keep him still.
After bandaging his arm, it’s time for you to take care of the wounds on his legs. “Take off those dirty pants so I can cure your legs. Could you please stop being so feral when it comes to fighting, you are still a human” you command him once again. Of course no one can command your “cruel” captain, but somehow when he is hurt, he hears you and does as you tell.
“My… pants?”, he asks you, widening his eyes and lifting one side of his mouth. “Yeah, look at you, you are covered in blood, Kid. Don’t be such a pussy, come on” you tell him, half seriously half on the edge of laughing. You think he is scared, but the truth is that he is ashamed.
He stays still, looking at you, with his hand over his stomach. Kid has a slight blush on his cheeks. You look at him with a swab soaked in sake on your hand, slightly moving your leg, impatient because this treatment is getting too damn long. Until you realize…
“Oh, oh my God Kid. I’m sorry, let me help you”, you tell him when you realize he has his only arm almost immobile and he has already detached his metal arm before, so there was no possible way for him to unbutton his yellow pants. You bend in order to reach the button better, and your face almost touches his belly. The smell of blood, sake and his own body odour invade your nostrils, and somehow that plus the proximity make you feel a little fancy.
Sliding his pants off, Kid fixes his gaze on the wooden ceiling of the Victoria Punk. You discover a big wound on the left inside part of his thigh. “Kid, this… uhm, I will have to give you some sutures, you know?”, you inform him a little worried because the wound won't stop bleeding. “Y-Yeah. Just do it…”, he says, and soon you realize this is not just ache, or even him being frightened. You tend to notice how embarrassed he is for you to be kneeling down in front of his naked legs. At first you can’t believe that “beast” could be ashamed of something, he is always so open, so shameless. But there he is, blushed, short of breath and having difficulties to even speak to you.
You smile a little, while you use a white cloth to press over the cut in order to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later, you tell him it’s time for you to stitch it. “This is going to burn and hurt like a goddamn hell, Kid. I’m so sorry, if you want you can bite this”, you tell him as you take off your scarf and give it to him. He tries to play the tough guy, but you insist on giving him your scarf, so he takes it.
You then direct all of your attention to the procedure you are about to perform on him, so you prepare the surgical needle and thread and empty the remains of sake off the bottle over his open wound. “Daaamn”, he shouts. You gaze at him quickly, with a guilty expression for making him suffer, but something catches your attention for an instant; he has your scarf over his nose, with his eyes closed. “Is he… is he smelling my scarf?”, you think, but quickly got back to the treatment.
After the suture is completed, you tell him it’s finally over. He uncovers his face and says “thank you” with that raspy voice, handing you the scarf. He tries to bend to reach for his pants, but a sting of pain hits him. “Ahj”, he aches. “Oh Kid, stay still, don’t put these pants on again. Treatment is not over, come on”, you tell him, worried if that pain is due to something more serious than a few broken ribs. “Pass your arm over my shoulders, I have to clean you, if we don’t clean your body your wounds would be infected in no time, plus, I have to check if you are not bleeding internally, dumbass”, you say while he passes his arm over your shoulders and you two start walking to his cot.
“Here, let me help you”, you bend down and help him to lean back on the cot. He coughs a little and you can see how in pain he is by his expression. It’s so sad for you to see your captain like this, you wished he was a little more careful, not so suicidal…
“Wait for me, I’m gonna bring a few wet towels”, you inform him, and walk to the bathroom to gather a few towels and warm water on a washbowl. You hear your crew mates shout that a huge storm is coming towards you, so they will be out handling that. “Great, just what we needed”, you complain, annoyed because there was even more to get worried about.
When you come back to the captain’s room, Kid is trying to get up from bed -failing miserably-. “What the fuck, Kid? I told you to stay there”, you scold him, running to where he is. “I’m sorry, I wanted to help them outside”, he tells you with a wet puppy look you haven’t seen before. “Don’t worry, Killer is in charge, don’t you trust him?”, you ask him while helping Kid to lean back again on the bed. “Yeah, I do”, he says.
“Let me clean you, ok?”, you tell him, while draining the excess of warm water off a towel. “Uhum”, he says, and accepts the towel over his chest. Subtly your hands clean the dried blood and the dirt of his body, slowly, barely touching his flesh in order to avoid hurting anything else.
You are both silent, something strange about Kid. You sit on the bed next to him, as the ship moves a little more violently than before due to the storm that turns the sea into a choppy one. The lights flicker until they turn off. “Fuck…”, you swear, and stand up. “I’m going to turn on the candle lamp”, you tell him. He remains silent.
You turn on several candles, and the warm light of the candle flame lights up the room. The shadow of his big body is drawn over the wooden wall as you let the candle over the night table next to his cot.
You reach for his face with the towel, cleaning the smeared red lipstick, and a trail of dry blood on the side of his cheek. You take off the goggles that keep his spiky hair out of his face. Strands of bright hair fall on his forehead, and you wonder why he doesn’t keep his hair like this more often.
Suddenly you interlock eyes, his bright orange irises fixed on yours, something that made you feel a hundred butterflies on your stomach. The moment you wished it lasted forever, is interrupted by a big thunder that scares the hell out of you two. You laugh, but Kid gets embarrassed and tells you to shut up and turns his face to the side. Such a tsundere…
“Kid, are you hungry?”, you ask him. “Yes”, he says after a minute, still without looking at you. He is now acting like a little child, and you just think it's cute. “Wait a sec, I’ll bring you something”, you say and walk to the kitchen.
“Hey, the guys were eating some soup, you want some?”, you tell him. He slowly looks at you, still too sore to even wake up, and says, “Yes, please”. You approach him and sit on the bed next to him, letting the bowl on the side table. “Come on”, you tell him as you lift him up a little and put some more pillows on his back just for him to sit properly.
“Open big”, you tell him, and approach the spoon to his mouth. He receives the soup in his mouth and slowly swallows it.
You recognize this must be embarrassing to him, he is always so independent, strong, reckless… you are waiting for a sudden explosion of violence, telling you he can do it by himself or something similar, but he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he eats the whole soup and even drinks the water you gave to him, sip by sip. He must be feeling really bad…
A few moments pass, and you are still on his side. He begins to fall asleep, but it looks as if he was fighting against his own exhaustion, because whenever his lids tend to shut, he just opens them quickly. “You should rest, Kid. Go to sleep, I’ll be right here, if you need something I’ll help you”, you tell him. “Go to sleep, I’m ok”, he says with that typical annoyed tone. “You see, the current captain here now is Killer and he ordered me to stay by your side, so, here I am”, you solemnly inform him, even though that’s just a lie. “Uhg…”, he complains. “Don’t act like a little child, just go to sleep”, you tell him.
It doesn’t take long until Kid passes out in bed. You regularly check on his temperature, because it won't be surprising for him to run a fever after all those cuts and inflammation. You grab a book and read next to him in that huge bed -pretty big for a simple cot -, the rain and waves sound relaxes you finally, now that your captain is asleep, safe and sound.
Some hours have passed since Kid fell asleep, when Killer appears at the door and whispering asks you how he is doing. You tell him, he is ok, but his wounds would take time to heal. Killer shakes his head, and says “When is he going to learn? Thank God we have you”. “Don’t worry, he will be ok”, you calm Kid’s best friend. “I would be happy to take your place for the night, but Kid would probably kill me if he found out it’s me and not you who is taking care of him”, he says and you look at him, confused. “What do you mean? he told me to go away”, you tell Killer. “Don’t be so sure… he is gonna kill me if he knows I told you this, but …”. Killer was about to say something when he got interrupted by a painful moan from Kid.
“What? Kid, what’s going on?”, you quickly say to him. Luckily, he is just dreaming, so you breathe relieved. You turn to the door again, to keep the conversation with Killer but he is gone now. “What the fuck? What did he have to say?”, you ask yourself, still confused.
You walk to the porthole and observe how the storm still hits hard on the sides of the ship, and slightly enjoy the sound of the thunders and how the lightnings light up the black deep sea around you.
You have left a single candle burning, so the warm light only bathes half of Kid’s face, the scars after the battle with Shanks, that he secretly hates, you love them. You start to realize that, for once he is at peace, so you can worship all of his facial features. He looks so cute when it’s not frowning. You smile stupidly at him snoring and even drooling a little, he is tired, he is exhausted. He fights to protect all of you, he fights because he is strong, because he is a fighter.
You come closer, and sit again at his side, you enjoy the proximity, because you have feelings for him. But you keep them deep inside, locked down, somewhere where they couldn't get out. You know it’s just impossible for Kid to fall in love.
Some force you can’t hold back makes your hand move aside a lock of red hair out of his face, and softly, barely palpable caress his cheek. You enjoy this moment as a little trait of destiny, maybe the first and last time you will be able to touch his face… your eyes get watery, it hurts to see how wounded he is, it hurts knowing you would never be able to kiss him.
“Y/n…”, he mumbles in his sleep. You remove your hand quickly from his face, but he grabs it. You look at him with your heart racing, almost as if it was going to jump off from your chest. “Don’t you ever go away, please”, he tells you. You think he is sleep talking, until he pulls you against his body and looks at you, directly in the eyes. “Stay here, please, sleep with me. Hug me”. This is by far the most romantic thing Kid probably has said in his whole life, but you are pleased, pleased and happy.
You delicately lay next to him, with your head over his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Enjoying the touch of his skin. “Kid… I.. I…”, you try to tell him how much you love him, but he anticipates it, “I have a crush on you, ok?”. You gasp, but then you let a little laugh slip out from your mouth. “I have a crush on you too, dumbass”... ♥
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sabertoothwalrus · 4 years
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there are lots of different variations of the SU x GF crossover so I wanted to share my own headcanons! (which apply to all of the comics I’ve made)
General:
It takes place post-SUF and post-GF (no Bill stuff, sorry guys lol)
Steven crosses paths with Stan and Ford while he was still on the east coast, sometime in the late winter/early spring
maybe they invite him onto their boat for a chat and some cocoa idk
Stan gave Steven his beanie (which is why I’ve been drawing Steven wearing a beanie)
They suggested he visit the Mystery Shack in Gravity Falls whenever he’s in the area. Stan and Ford would there in the summer for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday, so they hopefully meet again if the timing was right (and it is)
By the late spring/early summer, Steven makes it to Gravity Falls
He initially only plans to stay for a couple days, but gets on well will Soos (and Melody!), and within a day or so the twins arrive, who convince him to work at the shack for the summer
Steven agrees, but leaves when the twins go back to school, since there’s only a small handful of people in Gravity Falls he can actually stand to be around (they’re all a bit to mean for his tastes)
Steven is suuuuper gullible, and can’t quite differentiate between the Mystery Shack gimmicks and the genuinely supernatural. Like I said on this comic, he doesn’t really have a reason to be skeptical of things that are out of the ordinary, and he’s excited by stuff that he knows isn’t caused by gem stuff.
Since Steven is staying in Gravity Falls on his birthday (August 15th), the gems would certainly come visit. They can’t stay for very long, though, since they’re pretty busy nowadays. 
Stan and Ford don’t arrive until mid August, and head back to the Atlantic Ocean shortly after Dipper and Mabel’s birthday
There might still be a corrupted gem or two lurking in the woods, but overall there’s a pretty astonishing lack of gem-related activity. Steven finds himself out of his element (but he’s kind of digging it??)
Mabel learns that Steven has never been to school, and now with her first year’s experience of high school under her belt, convinces her friends, Dipper, and Wendy to let Steven pretend he’s a high school student for a day, and set up a fake classroom with fake homework and everything. 
I usually roll my eyes at suspiciously perfect coincidences, like certain characters previously knowing each other or someone Steven knows just so happens to visit the Mystery Shack while he’s working there, but I do like the concept that Wendy or Robbie is familiar with Sadie’s music. Maybe Steven could let Sadie call them and do a mini-performance over the phone lol
Character dynamics:
Sometimes Steven will state unusual facts about himself so nonchalantly, no one can tell whether he’s fucking with them or not
Like most other iterations of this crossover, Dipper has taken a High interest in solving What’s Up With Steven, even though there’s nothing to solve.
Steven isn’t THAT open. He doesn’t share every little detail about himself, especially regarding his recent trauma. (I mean, it’s extremely personal, why would he yknow)
Dipper actually gets a little jealous of how well Steven and Mabel get along, even when they’re doing stuff he’s not into. Cause like, that’s his sister! >:0
pre-Future Steven would not have been very fond of Dipper, but post-Future Steven definitely is. He sees how much Dipper tries to take himself too seriously and act “grown up”, and it reminds Steven that he needs to be better about that too.
Ford can read gem glyph, to Steven’s delight
Stan has a HUGE soft spot for Steven, especially if he learns his story. He has a bit of overlap in the “faked my death and lived a huge portion of my life under a different identity” department.
Pearl would probably get along with Stan for the same reason
You’d might think Pearl would like Ford cause they’re both “intellectuals” or smth idk but she’d think he’s kind of stuffy and actually her favorite of the bunch would be Soos lol
Stan has also traveled to every state, so he makes sure to pass on to Steven his (frankly very bad) advice.
Steven tries to get along with Wendy’s friends, but quickly realizes how little he vibes with them
Waddles is big now! I can’t decide whether I like him better as a regular pig or a pot-bellied big. Even if he were a pot-bellied pig, after a year he’d be 100 pounds at least, and nearly the size of a large dog. But if he were a regular farm pig, he’d be a b e a s t
Steven wouldn’t fuse with anyone here. The only humans he’s ever fused with are Connie, who is his closest friend and girlfriend, and his dad. I just don’t see it happening.
I may or may not add more as I go. I probably won’t delve into every combination of every single crystal gem and every single Gravity Falls citizen, because 1) there’s too many to count and 2) most of those interactions are probably unlikely to happen anyway. 
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Currently head over heels for the SUF/GF crossover by @aanau/@ray-the-fae/ /@anna-scribbles (? origin’s a bit fuzzy). ‘Flip-flops’ was the best Bill nickname I could come up with; alternatives include ‘Letterman’ and ‘Belly-button.’
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rpm-rosesstory · 2 years
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THE BACKDROP OF THIS AU
This au takes place in two universe-the main one, which SU takes place(also where the main PR universe is, but I’m mostly focusing on RPM) and the RPM universe
The au begins after rose dies. For 17 years, she’s trapped within a limbo of sorts before being accidental freed by Doctor k. Doctor k creates a human body for rose, who becomes the pink ranger. Rose now has to live a second life as a full human, making new friends and fighting off venjix, whist also dealing with her own inner demons.
As for any questions you might have:
Does rose go by rose quartz or pink diamond?
She goes by rose quartz, because that’s the name she feels the most comfortable with. Her human form does resemble pink diamond though.
How does doctor k meet rose?
Doctor k and rose met when the former was conducting an experiment with the bio field. During which, the two were able to witness each other’s memories. For a few months, rose existed as a ghost that only doctor k could see before her new body was created.
Is this canon divergent?
For Steven universe, this au is canon complicated. For rpm, this au diverges after belly of the beast(when the rangers acquire the Mach megaZord) doctor k does meet rose sometime before ziggy and Dillons arrives in Corinth though.
What’s with these early fics?
I intend to start this au before with get to the RPM universe. The first deal with roses death(the context of which is very important to the themes of this au) and the consequences. While the second deals with Steven coming to terms with his mom,taking place prior to SUF epilogue, and introduces an important character to this au.
Can I make fan art of this au?
Yes, I would love that! Any fan art is appreciated.
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fanfoolishness · 4 years
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until the rain (SUF)
One week after the events of I Am My Monster.  Steven is impatient to get back to normal, but the rain reminds him it’s not that easy. Connverse, angst, a tiny smidgen of hope. 2800 words.
***
It had been a week.  The longest week he’d ever lived, and yet it’d slipped by in a flash, the days so brief and hazy he could barely remember them.  A week since he’d transformed.  A week since his sickness finally reared its head and roared its name.
He sat in his room at eleven AM, blinking sticky eyelashes and trying to convince himself to get out of bed.  If he could just get out of bed instead of staying here all day, he could tell himself he was getting better.  And that was what everyone wanted, right?
He was doing better, Steven thought stubbornly, rubbing his eyes.  He’d realized this morning, with a hint of pride, that he hadn’t glowed pink at all since the incident.  That had to count for something, didn’t it?  Maybe everything’s better now everything’s out in the open, he thought, remembering what he’d sung to Pearl once.  He could almost believe it if it wasn’t for the way he still felt so wrong.
It didn’t help that his body felt alien to him in a way it never had before.  His clothes fit, but they didn’t.  Shirts stretched weirdly over his shoulders.  His jeans felt too tight, but some days too loose.  He tripped over the bottoms more than once.  But when he undressed at night and looked at them closely, they seemed just the same as ever.  Maybe he was just getting used to being human-shaped and Steven-sized again.
Adding to his disorientation, he found that his internal clock was off.  Time had gotten smudged somehow.  Mornings bled into afternoons, faded into evenings and the middle of the night.  He slept long parts of the day away and lay awake at three in the morning.  Meals broke up the hours somewhat, but he wasn’t up to cooking anything more complicated than a protein shake yet, and sometimes the Gems would make him breakfast at noon or Greg would swing by with takeout at nine PM.  He couldn’t make sense of it.  Not yet.
Maybe it was just the time difference from traveling to Homeworld.  Or maybe he was still wiped out from transforming.  Yeah.  That was probably it.
Connie told him a schedule would help, that she would sit with him and make one up with him together when he felt ready.  Greg tried to rouse him for a daily jam session.  The psychologist that Dr. Maheswaran had referred him to, Dr. B., had also talked with him about starting a routine, but if Steven was honest, he barely remembered their first session the other day.  He’d talked a little, and the doctor had talked some, and mostly he had sat there in silence: it was all a staticky blur in his head.  He wasn’t sure if it was really going to help.
Especially since his memory was just as fractured as his sense of time.  He’d already lost track of how many times he’d wandered into a room just to forget what he was doing, or trailed off in the middle of a conversation, leaving Amethyst or Pearl looking at him in concern.  Part of him hated those looks.  
But part of him was grateful.  At least they can see how messed up I am.  He felt a twisted sense of relief.  This had to be better than bottling everything up, forcing it to explode when the pressure got too much.  If they already knew how monstrous he could be, then he wouldn’t have to convince them --
Yeah.  This was better.  His family knew he wasn’t okay, and that was most of the problem, wasn’t it?  Now that they knew, things were sure to get better.  He felt another flash of pride, looking down at his peach-toned hands, no hint of pink in them at all. 
Despite his weird sleeping habits, and the way the days felt stretched too long and over too quickly, and the way his skin didn’t fit him… he was happy about that.  It was proof that things could get back to normal, even if they still felt strange now.
Maybe he was going to get better after all, sooner than everyone thought.  He’d always bounced back from stuff before.  Maybe he’d just go to the therapist for a few weeks, and get everything figured out.  Heck, maybe he could do one better, maybe he could figure this out mostly on his own.  Dad and the Gems and Connie knew, and they all wanted to help, and maybe that would be fine.  
Maybe that was a lot of maybes, but he tried not to think about that.
***
Late afternoon found Steven laying back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, idly petting Lion curled up on the floor beside him.  He hadn’t managed to get up out of bed after all.  
Beside him Lion purred.  It was a low rumble vibrating in Steven’s chest, drowning out the sensation of his own heartbeat.  It was comforting.
Distantly he became aware of the sound of rain against his window.  For a moment, it lulled him. He’d always liked the sound of rain, the feel of the cold droplets against his skin, what the weather meant for the grass and trees and flowers.  He adjusted his head against the pillow, getting drowsy, and the rain battered the side of the house --
Running in the rain, her shards jagged in his palm, his chest burning, what did he do what did he do --
He jerked out of his drowsiness, sitting bolt upright.  “It’s fine,” he choked.  “I’m fine --”  Beside him, Lion stopped purring and raised his head, letting out a whuff sound.  
Steven wavered, staring at Lion.  He could ask Lion to find Connie.  Maybe -- maybe he should -- but she was studying right now, wasn’t she -- wasn’t she busy --
He took a deep breath.  Remembered her voice, far away and so, so close at the same time -- Steven, you must have been so scared to show us this side of yourself.  Remembered her holding him later, just the two of them, when she whispered against his cheek to please stop hiding.
Okay.  Okay.  He could do this.  Needed to do this.
“Lion?” he mumbled.  “Can you see if --”
He hadn’t even finished the sentence before Lion roared and disappeared in a flash of light.  Steven slumped down belly first onto the bed, staring out the rain-smeared window.  He should have texted first.  Or even called.  She would probably send Lion straight back with a kind and apologetic text, telling him another time, telling him to talk to somebody else -- why would she want to talk to him when he was still so messed up --
“Steven?”
He blinked.  Somehow he’d failed to notice Lion’s return, lost in his own thoughts.  Connie sat down on the bed beside him, rubbing his back.  He shivered at her touch.
“I’m sorry --” he started.  Connie’s eyes flashed with sudden anger, and she leaned close to him, her eyes bright.
“Stop apologizing, Steven,” said Connie, and she looked so fierce and so worried he knew he couldn’t argue.  “You needed me, right?  You don’t have to be sorry about that.”
He gave her a quavering smile.  “I guess I’d better listen to you, huh?”
“That’s more like it,” she said, and the fierceness slipped away, replaced with a gentle look that made his stomach flip.  She swung her legs around, kicking off her shoes, and stretched out beside him, their shoulders and hips touching.  She rested her chin on her fist and gazed at him, only a few inches away.  “How are you today?”
He shrugged.  The rain blatted against the window.  
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Steven closed his eyes.  Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl staring as he burst into the house -- where have you been when they should have been asking what have you done --  
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.  “It’s just… the rain… I didn’t want to be alone.”
Connie was quiet for a moment.  “I thought you liked the rain.”
“It was raining when I --”  His mouth stumbled, forgetting how to make familiar sounds.  He was tempted not to say anything at all.  But Connie met his eyes, and he felt a pang.  She at least deserved to know why he’d interrupted her studying and asked her to come all the way out here.  
He swallowed.  “When I fought Jasper.”  He didn’t say the other word.
She stiffened, just a little, and laid her head on his shoulder.  “And the rain made you think of that?”  
“Yeah.  It was raining when I --”  He took a deep breath, a question aching in his chest.  “Do you want to know how it happened?”
“I do, but -- only if you’re ready to talk about it.  It’s okay if you’re not.”  She stretched one arm out over his back, letting it rest against him, a small but comforting weight.
“I ran away,” said Steven, burying his face in his blanket. He spoke in a rush, his voice muffled by the thick fabric.  “I thought no one would look for me out in the woods where Jasper lived.  I mean, why would they, right?  But I thought maybe she could help me, and maybe if I could just control these Diamond powers, then everything would be better, everything would be fine.”  He tensed, his hands digging into the blankets.  The words tumbled out of him.  “And if I couldn’t control them, then at least the only person I might hurt would be -- would be --”  
Shards glinting in the rubble beneath the stormy sky -- his stomach convulsing, vomiting fish in the dirt on his hands and knees  -- shrinking back to himself again, the fantasy over -- running home -- running --
“Steven?” Connie asked, worry in her voice.  “You’re glowing again.”
“No!”  He jerked away from her, nearly rolling off the bed in his haste.  He leaped to his feet, backing away.  “I -- I thought I stopped!” he gasped, staring at his luminously pink hands.  “I thought it was over, I thought I was done after that day on the beach, I haven’t turned pink since then --”
Connie reached out to him and he recoiled.  “You shouldn’t be around me when I’m like this -- what if I -- what if I turn into that thing again --”
“Then we’ll help you again.  All of us!”
“But I don’t want to do that!  I don’t want to be that!” he cried shrilly, his fingers knotting themselves into his hair.  He bent over, trying not to be sick.  His flesh prickled -- it crawled --
Connie’s hand was light but firm on his shoulder.  He heard her words tinnily, as if from a great distance.  “If you don’t want to be… then you won’t, right?”
“I -- huh?”  It was so hard to concentrate, his heart was trying to explode out of his chest, his face swelled and shrank like a balloon -- no, no, he thought he was getting better --
“Listen to me,” she said, and her voice cut through the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.  “Before.  You said you were a monster,” she said softly.  “And then that’s what happened.  But if you don’t want to be one -- if you remember you’re Steven -- then you’ll be Steven, right?”
“I -- I guess --”
She reached up and took his hands by the wrists, slowly bringing them down to waist level.  She cradled his hands in hers as he breathed heavily, in and out, in and out, blinking back tears.
“You’re Steven,” said Connie firmly.  Her thumbs traced little circles on the back of his hands, and he focused on the feeling, soft aimless patterns against his skin.  His breathing slowed, a little bit, a little bit more.
“I -- I know, but -- I just wanna be okay, Connie, but I’m not --”  He faltered, his protests dying in his throat.  What was he trying to say?  Did he even know?  
Warily he remembered how he’d declared himself fine and shattered the glass in his door, and he kept his mouth closed, his lips pressed firmly together.  Don’t break anything, don’t mess up, not again --
“You’re Steven,” Connie repeated.  “And you’re not okay right now.  But you’re going to get better.  And if it takes time, it takes time, you know?  It’s hard… I’m not saying it won’t be hard.”  She frowned, searching for words, and he strained to listen, to understand her.
“Like, graduating from high school takes time.  Even when you cram.  And it’s hard and some days just don’t feel worth it and sometimes you just feel like you’re going crazy with all the stress and the expectations and --”  She managed a smile, blinking back tears.  “But I know I’m gonna get there if I put in the time.  So maybe think of this part of your life as… helping Steven school.  You’re gonna go to therapy and you’re gonna cram and sometimes it’s really gonna suck… but you’ll learn stuff.  And you’ll get closer to getting better, all the time.  Okay?”
He looked down at their hands.  His were still pink against her brown skin.  But they were the normal size, and they were steady, no longer trembling.
“That makes sense,” he mumbled.  He blinked back tears, glancing away and hoping Connie didn’t notice.  A memory from a few days ago flashed into his head.  “It sounds kind of like what the therapist said.”
“Did you like him?  Mom said she made sure to brief him on Gem stuff,” said Connie.  She led him back to the bed, and they sat down on the edge, still holding hands.  Steven laced his fingers into Connie’s.
“He was all right.  I’m supposed to talk to him again the day after tomorrow.”   
“What did he say?”
“He said…” Steven bit his lip.  “He said it’s gonna take time.  To get better.”  He hung his head.  “I just… I hoped he meant like two weeks, or a month… I could do that.  But if I’m still glowing and freaking out at things now… Connie, what if this takes months?  Or years?  What if I never get better?”
He started sobbing then, as the pink glow faded, as Connie swept him into a bonecrushing hug.  He cried into her shoulder until her shirt was damp, his chest heaving, his arms clinging around her waist.  He cried like he did seven days ago, beneath a sunny sky, the sound of waves in his ears.
He didn’t know how long it was until he settled down.  Connie was rubbing his back with one hand, brushing his hair away from his forehead with the other.  The rain pounded on the window, drumming louder than ever.  
“Thank you,” he murmured, lifting his head and scrubbing at his face with one hand.  
“For what?” Connie asked, smirking.  “You did all the work.” 
He snorted.  “If you call crying my eyes out work.”
“Well, it’s not easy, that’s for sure.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.  Huh.  
She was right.  It wasn’t easy at all.
“How do you feel?”
“Better, I guess,” Steven said truthfully.  He gazed out the window at the rain and the gray-black clouds, remembering what had turned him pink.  He folded his hands in his lap.  “I -- I don’t think I can talk about Jasper yet,” he admitted.  “I thought maybe if I just tried to talk through it, it wouldn’t be so bad… but I can’t.”
“Maybe it just takes time,” Connie said.  “You don’t have to deal with everything overnight.”
“But it’s already been a week,” Steven began.
Connie raised her eyebrows at him.  “Steven?  How long have I known you?”
He thought back, doing the math.  “Uh…. four years? Almost five?”
“And how long has messed up stuff been happening to you?”
“If you count gem stuff… about five years.  If you count living in a van as a baby after my mom died giving birth to me….”
Her brow arched even higher, and he had to laugh at himself.
“... okay, yeah, seven days might not be that much time to get better from all of that.”
“You see my point then,” she said matter-of-factly.  “So.”  She turned and looked out at the window, watching the rain.  “What do you want to do now?  ”
He hugged her again.  “I know I already interrupted your studying, but…. could you stay a little while?  Just -- just until the rain stops?”
“Yeah,” said Connie.  “I can do that.”  She kissed him on the cheek, her lips warm.  And he wanted to kiss her in a different way, but part of him knew he wasn’t ready, knew he wanted to get better for her before he tried.  
The thought struck him, warmer and more comforting than the fact he’d avoided turning pink for a few days.  It was a good thought.  A brave thought.  One that he held onto for a long, long time.
I want to get better.
They lay back against the blanket holding hands, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling twinkling in the dim light, the storm outside fiercer than ever.  And he remembered, just a little, how he’d always liked the rain.
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novantinuum · 4 years
Text
Intake (SUF one-shot)
Fandom: Steven Universe
Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)
Words: 2800
Summary: Steven fills out an important form.
This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.
If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3
____
His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.
He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.
His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.
Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.
Okay, what’s next?
He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.
Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.
In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?
Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?
In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:
Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!
He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.
So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.
I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.
The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.
His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.
To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”
Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.
In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.
Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.
1. I am shy around others.
He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?
With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.
2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.
Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.
3. I feel isolated and alone.
The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.
4. My heart often races for no good reason.
Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.
5. I have spells of terror or panic.
Another four.
6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.
Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.
7. I think about food more than I’d like to.
Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.
8. I feel out of control when I eat.
He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.
9. I have sleep difficulties.
This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.
A solid four. No question.
10. My thoughts are racing.
Four.
11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.
Hmm. Two.
12. I drink alcohol frequently.
The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.
13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.
Zero.
14. I drink more than I should.
Zero again.
15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.
Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.
16. I feel sad all the time.
Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.
17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.
Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.
18. I feel worthless.
Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.
Four.
19. I feel helpless.
Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.
20. I have thoughts of ending my life.
He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.
(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)
One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.
21. I feel tense.
Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.
22. I get angry easily.
His grip tightens.
Four.
23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.
He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.
Four...
24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.
His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.
Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.
25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.
He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.
26. I feel self-conscious around others.
His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.
27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.
The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.
Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—
Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.
He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.
28. I have thoughts of hurting others.
His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?
(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)
Would he??
And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.
Four.
29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.
Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.
(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)
Okay. Schoolwork.
N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.
30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.
N/A.
31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.
N/A, once more.
And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.
Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.
“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.
For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.
I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.
____
Notes:
This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.
Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.
-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.
-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.
Thank you for reading!
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universallywriting · 3 years
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I got tagged by the always wonderful @suf-fering​ so I’ll give a little positivity a try, lol. In no particular order, half art and half writing:
 Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!
Long post of art and writing under the cut, and it’s all about me me me and not anyone else so askld;asj; read at your own risk
1. I’ve been learning to draw this year, and I like the little Twig I drew from Hilda. Baby Boy.
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2. On that same note, I drew a cartoon otter for pinktober. he’s a cutie too.
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3. I drew an emote this year that everyone uses. I’m very proud of that, lol.
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4. I’ve enjoyed drawing flowers this year.
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5. Of Friendship and Fantasies, because it was fun to write a piece exploring gender and sexuality and having it be just, like, pure comedy and fun. I feel like we always have to write about it like it’s a big, serious thing. It’s nice to write about it casually.
Stars, it would have been funny if they had kissed. Connie thought about it for the next week as she tried to focus on school. She wouldn't mind at all if Steven kissed her as a girl. Steven was Steven after all. It'd be cute and silly if she did. She should tell Steven that - that if they kissed while in girl-mode it would be really cute and fun.
Connie thought about it during class, her eyes glazing over during a math lecture she had already mastered. The end of her pen pressed to her lips in a fake kiss. It wasn’t weird to kiss her pen. She wasn’t uncomfortable. So it really shouldn’t be a big deal to kiss Steven just because she had her boobs on for the day, or something like that.
She wondered if Steven would kiss any different as a girl, if they were really kissing and not just doing a fun peck (which was actually normal in other cultures, so they could definitely kiss on the cheek to say hi). Would she be gentler about kissing? But Steven's girl-mode wasn't really gentler. If anything boy-mode Steven was softer.
So maybe girl-mode Steven would be the kind of person who would pounce on her neck like a vampire. She could see that. Or maybe she'd keep that kind of flirty tone. She'd kiss her really slow, until Connie was flustered and asking her to hurry up. Or maybe she'd be the shy type if Connie was interested, and her cool face would go all wide eyed and parted lips as Connie slowly leaned down and kissed her deep and slow.
It was fun to think about, was all.
6. Wheels. All of it. The whole thing. I’m not even gonna bother taking a snippet from it. Just, like, as a whole, Wheels was great to write. I loved writing, I feel it fit into the established canon really well, and it’s just a really fun, interesting piece.
7. Gap Year! Lol, had to say that one. If I had to pick, out of everything, my favorite chapter is absolutely Chapter 16: Sunrise. It is a chapter that focuses entirely on therapy, on healing, on learning how to cope with the things that trauma leaves behind.
I desperately needed to see healing for the characters I loved. And though there was plenty for Steven, I never saw any for Connie. So I wrote it myself. I worked with a lot of great people to make it as good as I could, and I know it meant a lot to a lot of people. The whole story did. But that chapter I’m proud of most of all, because more than anything else I think we should focus on the work it takes to heal.
Stories of healing are interesting and valuable and good and we should have more of them.
8. Second User! I could probably fill a top eight just with scenes from Second User. I really had so much fun writing it. Second User is the kind of fic I write where I barely care about my audience and I do it all for me, lol. And I just really, really love writing the horror of nightmares - no blood, no gore, just the surreal terror your mind makes.
There was a way out of this. She tugged on a wrist-thick cord, weaving her hands through the tangled mess and dragging the binding to her mouth. Her lip curled back, teeth bared, and she snapped around the bitter rope.
Everything was pain.
Not in her body, but in her heart, her mind. She was a child on the beach, a ruined ship jutting up from the sand - the aftermath to a battle she never got to see. Steven was gone, hiding, done with her for the first time. The world had turned scary and he was the protector and she was the protected and the split in their worlds loomed below her feet like a canyon.
Her eyes burned and she tried to breathe, but her throat and mouth were full. She coughed, gasped, and oak leaves scraped across her tongue on their way out into the air.
The cord sat, half severed by her teeth in her hands, and it bled green acid. It flowed over her mouth, across her hands, dripped slowly down her arms with a sizzling pain she couldn’t feel. The tangy scent of scorched wild mustard filled her nose.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” her own voice asked coldly.
She tried to speak, but no sound would come. The acid was thick like blood, coating her tongue and teeth and lips and hands, and she had nothing to heal it away. She swallowed the poison and felt the thickness creep along her throat to her belly, and revulsion and disgust nearly brought it back up.
Also at the end that i kinda wanted to say Listen All Night Long but, like... I also feel like it was so much more of a collab and such a big reason I loved it so much is because of Kerry’s beautiful designs, and working with her to create something cool. I don’t know if it was my best work, but I know that the stuff we made together was really great! And it was so much fun to have quippy, silly prose throughout too. So special category for collabing with suffering on that one, because i have no idea how to classify it but i fucking loved it.
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bigsteeb · 4 years
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cactus steven! wyd?
to make things less complicated i’ll be referring to the cactus creature as cactus steven, this is also part corrupted steven theory so enjoy ;)
ok so as we know we’re going to see the cactus steven in the up coming episode titled “prickly pair” & with that it’s got me & i’m sure a lot of you wondering it’s significance to suf & it’s plot, here’s my take on it. as we know steven has the ability to give life to plant life & well… non sentient organic life in general & it’s something he’s incredibly proud of.
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every time we’ve seen steven bring life to organic beings he’s incredibly happy about it. from finding out he has the ability to do so after the watermelon stevens to bringing pumpkin, rip you sweet creature, to life for peridot & lapis to cheer them up. both these times he’s been visibly happy about it, christ the boy happily brought life back to the hill after spinel’s injector damaged it in the movie & healed parts of the forest him & jasper fought in in “little homeworld” he’s so damn proud of his ability.
now with the new knowledge of pinks destructive powers & how they’re suddenly manifesting in steven, paired with his anger & frustration, it's only a matter of time till the boy snaps, now this is where cactus steven comes in. imagine doing the one thing you’ve been doing for years with no difficulty & it being the one thing that brings you joy… for it to then turn on you. cactus steven is going to be the final straw that breaks steven, this creation of his is going to cause something in steven to snap. now this is where the corrupted steven theory sneaks in. 
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don’t you find it interesting that out of all of those on the antagonist screen cactus steven is more in front of the creature in the background whilst white, the 2 lapis, cockroa- i mean bluebird & jasper are more to the sides of it? i sure do. i mean cactus steven is the second closest to the front of the screen it has to be an important part of future right?? what if cactus steven is the thing that causes steven to start corrupting? exploding in anger at his creation & causing a shit ton more damage than what he did at the reef. his anger sending a sheering pain through his body that causes him to clench at his belly, later checking to see that dark magenta splotches are forming around his gem & a pain in his head that causes 2 spikes to emerge from it by the end of the episode. i mean the episode is called “prickly pair” after all ;).
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tl;dr this little fucker is going to cause so much anger in steven that it will cause him to fully snap & what follows after I'm sure isn't going to be pretty, not for anyone.
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