#is this ship? well no its violence but idc if you see it that way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wokestraightpuffy · 3 years

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Hallo, i hope you are alright and that my ask aren’t annoying but I wanted to ask do you have any c!puffy headcannons? —🤡

YOURE NOT ANNOYING AT ALL !!! NEVER THINK THAT ILU VERY MUCH. MUAH /p

as for c!puffy headcanons, i am not the best person to ever organize their thoughts properly but ill try my best >:’D

ahaha. this got. super complex and way too long and more of like an introspective study to puffy now instead of harmless fun headcanons so, uh. under read more <3 (also reminder this is all /rp and /dsmp)

* i like to think that she has a hero complex, but its a bit different since she never really sees herself as an ‘important’ part of the story, not the main character but a support one, hence ‘im fine with being the side character’ or how she’s said she doesnt care what happens to her and would gladly sacrifice(?) herself if there werent other people she had to protect. girl u need therapy urself <3

* though very open with how she feels and never afraid to say when someone/something is upsetting her, ‘opening up’ is still a whole mountain climb for her, apparently. like, she’d rant about the egg, get mad at the eggpire, let off some steam by committing arson or exploding stuff, she’ll rarely ever talk about how much the stuff that upset her actually HURT her. does that make sense? LIKE, she’ll lash out, she’ll get mad, she’ll take NO SHIT thrown at her face, but to show the kinda vulnerability of dealing with that? to cry about it talk about those feelings with someone? I think she’d rather eat her own foot lol

* adding onto the thing above, she doesnt necessarily actually realize this about herself. less of actively doing it and rather growing... used to the ‘cycle of violence’ in the smp as they call it. and the fact that rarely have people really asked, that no one’s actually available for that, w her losing her closest friends, bad and ant, sam being busy w the warden stuff... and niki. yeah. there’s foolish, but i doubt she’d ever see venting to someone she considers her son appealing

* also. puffy is just sometimes... really bad at conveying sadness. i think she’s a rare crier. id go as far to say that shes even more emotionally constipated than dream, lol (but maybe not while the guy’s in his prison arc) and that she’d be the type of person to tell you its okay to cry but beat herself up over something if she let a tear slip in a heated moment

* speaking of sadness. she’ll only ever actually Be Sad if she’s alone or with someone she doesnt necessarily care the opinions of. yknow how she mourned for tommy and blamed herself? those dialogue bits? yeah, those are only times shed actually be vulnerable

* puffy’s go to response to the egg and how its fucked up her relationship w her friends is pure fury. but, going off of her line about ‘failing bad and ant’ i like to think that she probably hates herself the most about it. THAT IS A STRONG WORD LOL BUT YEAH. she yells and curses and gets mad, but sometimes i wonder if the words she had spat before were more directed to herself

* THIS GIRL HAS SELF-IDENTITY PROBLEMS. CAN WE GET A HELL YEAH FOR THAT CHAT? outside of having no goddamn clue about where she came from, how she got here and who she even is, scrounging up a role for herself in a server with a war on the background and traumatized kids got her resignedly coerced into thinking that she is only a Parent. Only good enough when she’s actually doing something Useful for people. SO. when she finds that ship? of having a crew and having a curse? OF FINDING OUT SHE MIGHT HAVE/ HAVE HAD A MOM THATS WAITING FOR HER? the sense of control she has on herself is absolutely crushed. shattered, and she’s left to pick up the pieces w no one to talk abt it with <3

* adding onto the above, it’s why the line ‘I’m supposed to be mama puffy. me.’ hurts me so much! so yes! please cry with me :D

* also to add more on the fact that she thinks she’s only worth something when she’s being useful, puffy literally contemplated leaving the server, thinking that it wouldnt matter leaving since no one really needs her anyway, since she’s failed so many people. bad and ant, tommy, dream. shes said how foolish can take care of himself on how tubbo and ranboo have each other, how she and niki have drifted so far away from each that it might as well be a break up.

HOOOOOOOOOO OBOY . anon youve really given me the perfect chance to ramble huh? sorry for the rather incomprehensible brainrot, here’s more lighthearted headcanons about puffy asdhfkd

* she cannot stand still sometimes. she always has to be doing something extra, walking when the prime path is right there? shed rather go through tedious little holes or hop and balance onto fences to get where shes going. she’ll mindlessly fix up the path when there are holes or mismatched wood, and one time went on a long, long LONG journey cleaning up the paths tommy purposely DESTROYED near lmanburg and even added cobblestone sidings which werent there before

* puffys a bit of a sentimental person. writing in her log to clear her thoughts sometimes and cared enough to try and preserve lmanburg with the glass sheet and trying to find possible surviving artifacts of history to respect it, even though she’s never been a part of it. its also why, when doomsday happened and lmanburg got permanently poofed, she began to appreciate the buildings that are still standing and began taking more pics

* she’s not used to being... what do you call it, um, cared for? she’d deflect compliments sometimes, when shes having a particular bad day, like, she’d laugh nervously and change the subject, sometimes she’d outright deny it, most days she’d jokingly say ‘staphhh it’ and add a very genuine thanks. my point being is, do something for puffy that is mildly nice and she’d keep that moment in her heart forever.

* also funny story regarding the above. u know how karl is notorious for stealing her materials? and how puffy was contemplating doing something in retaliation for them? karl says hi for once when she joins the server and she goes ‘alright fine youre safe for saying hi’ LOL THIS WAS PROBABLY A BIT META WISE but something about this implying that the bare minimum or LESS is enough to make puffy forgive someone is very sad and funny at the same time for me. girl really said ‘oh you said hi to me? thats nice all the crimes youve ever done towards me is now forgiven. <3’ (this is a bit of an exaggeration on my part, ofc, i just think its funny LMAO)

* ironically, despite being the ‘captain’, whenever riding a boat with someone, she prefers being on the backseat and letting them drive. ig shes just there for the ride i suppose, her and her uber drivers :3

* she either has a rather unhealthy obsession with baked potatoes or she just doesnt wanna waste eret’s massive potato farm

* idc what cc!puffy says is c!puffy will always and forever be 5′2″ in my HEART. u are the shortest member, u cannot change this <3

* shes really fond of animals/ neutral mobs. she often baby talks to them and they help boost her mood a lot when shes having a bad day :D

* up to this day, the little secret rooms she’s created around the server have all been yet to be discovered, unless the one under bad’s house has been found. she rarely ever really keeps tabs on them, and more often than not they are just collecting dust. she still visits sometimes and cleans them up ofc

* she still genuinely thinks dream can change. cc!puffy’s line about that, ‘i’m his last hope.’ really makes me think about this a lot.

* ive seen people talk abt it a bit but the headcanon that puffy acts as the server mom to fill the ‘void’ of her missing her mom makes me cry at night /hj

* she really likes her rainbow onesie! i headcanon that eret gave her that along w the sunglasses, but she started wearing that less when she found her old captains uniform. shes never really said why, though, and nobody ever really bothered to ask

* god bless this woman but sometimes the server members get on her nerves sometimes so she goes out of her way to traverse along far away from the main community to maybe commit a few crimes. let off some steam. these take a few days but she always returns

i probably have a lot more hcs but i cant remember them >_> THIS IS A LOT ANYWAY. HOPE U ENJOYED MY BRAIN VOMIT. IF U READ THIS FAR ILU THANK U

if there are mistakes it is bc i am crying and cannot see my keyboard and also i am sleep deprived /hj

#captain puffy #tea speaks #god this is so long the brainrot is concerning ANYWAY #clownon

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glimmeringtwilight · 5 years

Text

Mer-may in June bay-beeee

(I know I implied I was doing this to be a cheeky bastard but I genuinely had no inspiration to write any mer-may piece until just today after watching a 360 youtube video on exoplanets. Title is not permanent I just don’t know what to name it so you’re getting this ^ lmao)

[Read it on AO3 if you prefer idc]

When you first joined this expedition, you didn’t expect to find yourself stranded in a vast deep-blue ocean on an alien planet. If you’d known, you wouldn’t have come.

The rest of the crew is beginning to get anxious. Food is dwindling to nothing, the farming supplies you’d brought for the trip meaning nothing here, surrounded by only violent waves and strong winds.

The ocean here is stronger than it was on Earth, waves reaching nearly as high as mountains. The captain had been forced to take the ship under the waves to avoid the constant violent torrent, resurfacing every few days only when the oxygen begins to run low.

You were lucky, you supposed, your crew landing on a planet with breathable air. The temperatures outside were nearly habitable, too, but with only water in every direction, that meant nothing. You wondered if there even were land masses on this planet, from the violence and magnitude of the waves. With no land for the water to break against, the tides would become violent; as you’d seen since landing here.

The captain hasn’t said much about your situation. You wonder if she knows everyone is doomed. Whispers of a mutiny had begun to circulate, but she hasn’t addressed that, either. She sits in her room, in silence, staring out the window into the watery depths.

With everyone on edge, it hadn’t been long since they had begun to point fingers at one another. Many of your crewmates blamed the captain, said it was her fault, that she had miscalculated the fuel needed for the entire journey to Leona-32.

You knew she wasn’t the one responsible for this; she hadn’t done the calculations. She wasn’t part of the team that had planned everything out. She was just made captain when the original one got cold feet. She was briefed about the mission plan and put in charge as a last-minute resort, being the only person there willing to take lead.

Despite your thoughts, you kept your head down and mouth shut. You knew better than to put yourself on the line when people were this desperate and afraid.

Time passed slowly on the ship, with nothing to do but watch the last energy reserves drop bit-by-bit, or watch the murky darkness outside the windows. Once, someone exclaimed that they saw something in the waters. When you all crowded around the window to look, there was nothing. Paranoia, probably. Hopefully.

Your captain has stopped eating.

You’re worried, coming to her door at mealtime to leave food and try the handle. It’s always locked. You’ll leave to get your own food, and when you come back, you find her meal is still there, outside the door.

The light in her room goes off and on periodically, though, so you know she’s still alive in there. You think she blames herself for this situation too.

The crew is beginning to whisper again.

Another week passes with little to no sign of the captain. The light underneath her door is dark now, and you haven’t seen or heard anything from inside in a few days now. You start to give her rations to some of the more sickly crew members.

The air inside the ship feels heavier. You think the rest of the crew already knows about your captain, but nobody says anything.

People are seeing more and more shapes in the water. You think you’re starting to see them too.

You return to your room that night anxious, scanning the depths beyond your window for any shapes. If this planet does support life, you wonder what that life may be? If it’s sentient life, well. You don’t know what that means, but the small part of you that’s left grasping for hope keeps turning you towards the window, searching.

You’re woken up from a nap by the sound of something tapping at your window. Your heart lurches in your chest and you quickly flip on the light, turning to see a figure in the murky darkness as it slinks away from the light.

You step closer to the window, wide eyed, trying to catch another glimpse of it. A few seconds pass where nothing happens, and then the figure is there again, slinking close enough for you to make out a few details in the light.

It looks almost like a fish, but its torso bears striking resemblance to a man. Your mind flashes immediately to the old legends of mermaids, and trepidation pricks at your spine.

It’s looking at you, making languid turns and circles as it swims around your window, like it’s putting on a show for you. Still, it keeps too far away from the window for you to make out much detail.

You’re so engrossed in watching the strange creature that you don’t hear the knock at your door. You jolt when you hear the voice of one of your crewmates, spinning to face him.

“Hey, it’s—woah, what’s with that look? See a ghost?” Rich, one of the mates you’d become friends with stands in the door of your room, looking at you with concern.

You furrow your brow and whip your head back to the window. The creature is gone. You wonder if it’d ever really been there. Rich clears his throat and you turn back to look at him. His eyes are on the window, too, for a moment, and he looks back at you with a gleam of understanding in his eyes.

“Mealtime,” He tells you quietly, glancing back to the window before ducking out of your room. He sounded tired, but then again, so does everyone else on the ship.

You’re woken up the next night—though, who knows if it was actually night on this God-forsaken planet—by the tapping on your window again. This time, it happens when the rest of the crew is asleep, save for the guard who has to watch over the food and the ship’s systems to make sure everything keeps running.

Maybe the creature knows everyone is asleep, and that’s why it chose to approach you now.

You flip the light on but keep the setting to dim, just enough to see the creature. It stays close to the window this time, and you can finally make out more details.

It seems to be wearing a mask of some sort, shards of what you guess are shells pieced together to form some sort of symbol, it appears. The symbol looks… vaguely like a cat, though you doubt it is. Whatever it is, you don’t recognize it.

The shells are a deep mix of purple, catching in the light. You wonder if it’s to lure prey, glinting in the dim underwater light and drawing unlucky fish(or whatever else was in the water) to it. The pieces are strung together with what looks like some sort of stringy underwater weed, and you note that it’s clearly more intelligent than most fish on Earth, having fashioned itself a mask. But what is the mask for? Decoration? Does it have a practical use? You don’t know. Maybe it’s dressing itself up, because if the mask had some sort of evolutionary purpose, wouldn’t it be a part of the creature?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when the creature places a large, taloned hand against the glass. You look at the long claws poking out from its fingers and follow its arm down to the rest of its body. It’s covered in webbed spines, reminding you of a scorpionfish, though its skin is primarily a mix of grey and a deep purple, spattered with a myriad of the two colors. You can make out a few golden splashes on its tail.

Those claws tap against your window again, large hand splayed against the glass. It looks at you expectantly, and you think that it wants you to mimic the display.

Tentatively, you step close to the glass and place your hand on the cool surface over its hand, your own dwarfed in comparison.

The creature trills, loudly, enough for you to hear it through the thick glass, and moves away to swim in circles around the window. Its bright eyes watch you as it does.

Apparently your crew heard the noise too, and you hear a knock at your door. The creature swims away in a flash, gone as quickly as it had come. You don’t tell your crew what you saw, getting the feeling that it might start a panic.

They begin to whisper about you.

The creature doesn’t turn up for the next few days, but that doesn’t stop the growing rift between you and the rest of the crew. They’re suspicious of you; they might know about your “visitor.” You pretend not to notice when your rations get smaller. It’ll blow over—it has to.

After nearly a week of silence and the growing emptiness in your stomach, it appears to you once more. You don’t have the energy to get out of bed and turn on the light, lying there in exhaustion. It continues to tap at the glass with increasing urgency as you don’t respond, but you find yourself falling back asleep despite the noise. It’ll take the hint and go away, eventually.

Everything falls silent after a few minutes of tapping, and you thank whatever God there is for that. You’re just about to fall back asleep when something smacks against the glass. You jolt upright in bed, turning to look at the window. In the dark, you can see the creature glowing slightly, intricate pink designs that you didn’t see before spotting its body, matching its red, glowing eyes.

You reach for the light and turn it on, blood chilling at the sight of cracks spiderwebbing across the window’s surface. There’s… no way that thing can punch through the glass. It’s an inch of pressure glass, tempered for space travel.

You watch as it strikes the glass again, forcing it to bubble inward, straining from the pressure. You realize that it doesn’t have to break the glass, it just has to tear it from its place.

You jump out of bed and rush for the door, just registering the tearing of metal behind you before water floods the room, slamming you against the door. A pair of arms wraps around your waist and you thrash helplessly as you’re pulled into the endless waters.

Your ship quickly disappears from view, and spots are dancing in your vision as your lungs scream for air. The creature’s claws are digging into your waist, drawing blood, but you continue to thrash and claw at the water in a desperate bid for air.

This is how you die. Drowning on another planet as an alien creature drags you deeper, deeper into the water. You know now why sailors had been afraid of mermaids and sirens.

You breathe in.

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