#tcmperamental

[novablossoms-blog]

tcmperamental replied to your post: ‘ i need to step outside for some air. and… i...

why am i tearing up. allura is too GOOD

sHE WORRIES OKAY.

[sylvabled]

( ✉ → sms ) soooo, in your opinion, what are some of my best qualities? i need help writing my tinder bio. (i c ry)

pidge leaves people on read ★ ( accepting! )

          @tcmperamental​

          [ sent to: keef💥]           you are one of the last people i would think of making a tinder account

                   sent!

          [ sent to: keef💥]           if i had to choose: determined. in the best way possible of course. 

                sent!

          [ sent to: keef💥]            observant and selfless also seem accurate.

                sent!

          [ sent to: keef💥]           i hoped this helped. good luck getting laid 👍

                sent!

[notacyclonefan]

Even in the darkest of times

@tcmperamental

          The cell was tight. There was nothing there that spoke to offering comfort, though after having been there for a while, Steve wasn't shocked. The Skrulls didn't exactly seem all that concerned with comfort, or with being kind. They didn't have a problem with doling out the pain, and Steve was too damn stubborn to stay silent in the face of it. He refused to cooperate, refused to give in, refused to give them anything they asked for. His body told the tale of just how pleased they'd been about that.

The serum was working, doing what it could, even without the usual amount of calories he had become accustomed to since waking up in another time. He still healed a hell of a lot faster than he should, faster than some of the others, he was sure. And there were always others, though he didn't see them often. He didn't see much of anyone, besides the guards.

The guards, of course, were asses. For the most part, they were asses. Apparently, they were even asses to each other. Steve's jaw was getting tighter and tighter as they listened to two of them dig into another. The one hadn't done a damn thing to earn the insults the other were throwing at him, not from what Steve could see. And he was one of his guards, regardless, which colored his thoughts a little, but some things never changed. Steve Rogers couldn't just stand by and watch someone get bullied.

It continued as the guards came into his cell -- and who the hell knew what for. Another interrogation? Another beating? Hell, maybe today was the day he had long, thin slivers shoved under his fingernails again. That had been a hell of a day last week -- or maybe it was last month. He didn't know; he was losing track of time, and wasn't that terrifying? Steve swallowed as he saw one of the men shove the one. The man was smaller than them. Unmistakably, he was a Skrull, too. They wouldn't have him there if he wasn't, but he was different and they were sliding in on it like wolves.

"Why don't you shut up," he snapped, finally, his jaw up. It was dusted with dark purple and red marks, ones that extended down his neck to his shoulder. It didn't do a damn thing to keep his jaw down, though. "Leave him alone." Steve knew what was coming even before they turned to him, wasn’t even a little surprised, and he didn’t give a damn. He knew he wouldn’t win when he lifted his shackled hands up to fight back, but he did it anyway.

[lingavaritia-blog]

@tcmperamental

‘Damn prince. I told you to let go of me!’

‘I wasn’t going to let you go, Greed. We’re in this together!’

‘Sure kid. You had a country to rule but if this hell-ride with me and the old man is what you really wanted, congratulations you got a one way ticket with me.’

‘....Where are we?’

Well, he wasn’t dead that was for sure and he was still in the Prince’s body so they’d both been transported somewhere. The point was, where? Well, actually, more to the point, what was here for him to want? It was then that he noticed he wasn’t alone, one hand slinking into his pocket as he tilted his head with a cavalier jaunt.

“Hey kid. I don’t suppose you could tell me where the hell I ended up, huh?”

[secondbestblues-blog]

✎ ❧ ☺ ♯

oh my god why so many

✎- Can your muse draw? How well/How Bad?

Lance is... okay he’s not a horrible artist, but he’s not like, fantastic either? He’s just kinda... average. He can do better than stick figures, but proportions, hands/feet, actually good hair, the finer points all escape him. He doesn’t often draw anyway, just every one in a while when he suddenly really wanted to for whatever reason (he might’ve attempted to make his own comic book when he was in middle school haha) but then later lost interest and abandoned it.

❧- What is your muse’s favorite kind of food?

This one’s hard for me to answer because like. It requires research I haven’t done yet. I headcanon that his grandparents immigrated from Cuba when they were young, so his mother and aunt at minimum were born and raised in the US. I think they probably did frequently make and eat Cuban dishes at his home, but like. Just saying he likes ‘Cuban food’ is really vague and general and not at all getting into different kinds of dishes and stuff. Like my family is Polynesian, I was raised on Polynesian food, but dear god I cannot at all just say I like ‘Polynesian food’ because I might die for cocoa rice and pani popo and my dad’s fish stew and pulled pork, but poi and musubi is nasty (in my humble personal opinion).

So... There are probably several Cuban dishes that I haven’t identified yet that are very big comfort foods for him. But then he’s also an American kid who grew up on school lunches and fast food restaurants and burgers and shit as well. He loves pizza (but hates pineapple as a topping) and... I haven’t figured out much beyond that yet. I really should get working on that. ^^;

☺- Something that makes your muse happy

Canon examples include the beach, rain, etc, but let’s see, something that’s specific to headcanons with my muse...

I think just dancing in general. He doesn’t do much of it lately, because a) he doesn’t have much time for it, and b) it’s... kind of one of those things he likes to keep for special moments. Like any kind of dancing he’ll do in front of the others most of the time will basically be like dabbing and shit, hilarious and ridiculous and groan-inducing but it’s just fun. The real dancing is like... saved for those moments when he really feels it, when he’s genuinely happy and he’s listening to his music and just the right song comes on and then he just. Drops whatever he’s doing and starts dancing.

He usually doesn’t do this in front of the others largely because he just doesn’t want to be interrupted when he’s in the zone like that, like nothing is more of a buzzkill than being told to stop goofing off and go back to work when you’re in the middle of doing something so completely and totally awesome.

♯- Something that gets your muse angry

Well I mean, everybody knows the giant red button labeled “KEITH”. But lets see, what else...

Anyone who insults or threatens his family, basically.

[shiroskeith-blog]

@tcmperamental replied to your post: “Kinda wanna give rping in the Voltron fandom a try but I have no idea...”:

whispers: it's great! and welcoming! and we'd love to have you

So I heard! And I might, I’m first going to see if I can drag my friend along with me if he is up for it :)

[criimsoncastle-blog]

🚼 sends u all the memes whoops

Take care of Kiddy Shiro || Accepting

{{YES GOOD, SEND ME ALL THE MEMES}}

When the paladins woke the next day they were faced with a small dilemma, the tiny toddler Shiro kind. Keith had been dubbed as the babysitter and now he was in a nursery that the ship apparently had with a little Shiro toddling around the room. He was dressed in traditional clothes that Coran had worn as a young one and trying to scrabble up on top of a toy chest. Still seemingly unused to his limbs yet he fell back down, falling heavily on his tiny left arm and promptly burst into tears. When he’d been shrunk the arm hadn’t shrunk with him, leaving the scarred stump of his right arm. He reached out for Keith, sniffling and still teary eyed. “K-Keif…” he whimpered. It was the first time they’d heard him speak since the incident. As far as Keith knew, Shiro’s first word had been the Red paladins name. “Keif…”

[secondbestblues-blog]

@tcmperamental (from here)

His gaze drags slowly up, weighted down by heavy bags under his eyes, to see Lance standing above him. ❛ Can’t. ❜ He sounds a hundred years old, with how feeble and croaky his voice is. The Castle had suffered too much damage in a recent run in with a Galra fleet and they’d had to make an emergency landing on a nearby planet. The planet just didn’t happen to take kindly to strangers, no matter how peaceful, and while the Castle underwent intensive repairs, the Paladins, the Princess and Coran were forced to wait outside, and take turns keeping watch… just in case. It was Keith’s turn and there was no way he was slacking off on his responsibility, even though he’s felt like absolute shit since landing on this planet. If he was any less stubborn he’d just admit that he’d caught some version of alien influenza… however Keith was stubborn, and then some. ❛ You should head to bed. Or your cockpit or wherever you’re planning on sleeping tonight. ❜  

“Dude.” Lance’s voice is flat and utterly unimpressed. Keith has never been less threatening than he is right now. “I can, and will, tell Shiro you’re endangering us all. And, you know, yourself. How are you supposed to guard anything when you’re like this?”

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable argument to Lance.