#so they're very exhausting

[ruporas]

can’t talk about it

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.

Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We  can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."

The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"

The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."

The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."

The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."

The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]

[scissorcraft]

so. rescuing kittens, huh.

[sysig]

Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

[quirkle2]

wanted to make a takenaka art dump to practice for potential fic art but i ended up just doing a full piece after the first sketch.whoopsie

[wishesofeternity]

My problem with The Dragon Prince is that while it preaches about "breaking the cycle" and "choosing love", it repeatedly does so in a way that echoes the age-old idea of telling victims to passively accept their lot in life and the injustices inflicted upon them while their perpetrators never have to acknowledge their wrongs or face consequences for their actions. This is the kind of narrative they follow on both a personal and systematic axis, and it's exactly why the show will always frustrate me.

[sentientsky]

hey do u ever think about how crowley's eyes (a feature he's worked to hide nearly his entire time on earth) were fixated so so so firmly on aziraphale during the final fifteen, to the point where he followed the tiniest of movements, even as tears began to form in his waterline? even as his not-quite-human-heart was splintering in his chest?

CAUSE I DO

how was this permitted to be aired???? knowing full well that angsty queers like me would be sliding down the wall sobbing about it???? (also, if u want to read more about crowley and his eyes, i am once again recommending one of alex's metas: x)

anyway! full gif below the cut!

yippee!

[sciderman]

will peter ever find out he died during civil war?

oy... i was hit by an unfortunate productivity wave this morning that meant that i've started writing a whole heap of new scripts... and they, regrettably, do involve peter finding out. but not through wade.

[whump-in-the-closet]

A Healer's Hands

poll results came in: team whump, medic is broken down to be made an example of

cw: gore, medic whump, creepy whumper, team dynamics, captivity, torture

The Medic's crew stumbled through the cell door, one after the other.

Captain, with a black eye and a limp, lifted two fingers to their temple in a mock solute. Their clothes were torn and there was blood on their uniform's collar.

Youngest trembled as one of the henchmen shoved them inside the gated door. They looked around, eyes brighter than a deer's in headlights. "H-hey Medic." They wrapped their arms around themself.

"Hey," Medic swallowed down the twisting feeling that rose up. He forced his voice to soften, to not carry any of the sharp panic he felt. "Where are you hurt?"

"We're fine," Captain cut in, gesturing behind Medic's shoulder. "It's--"

Medic had already whirled around.

Lieutenant.

The Lieutenant held onto the cell wall with a shaking grip. Where he touched it, blood trickled down the stones in a steady faucet run.

Drip.

Drip.

"Lieutenant?"

He glanced up. His nose was gushing red. It stained his uniform, bright and electric in the dull light.

"Turns out those fuckers can throw a punch after all," said Lieutenant with a hoarse laugh. Still unceremoniously reckless.

But he let Medic hold a makeshift bandage--ripped from Medic's shirt-- to his nose.

As Lieutenant sat down, Medic crouched beside him, correcting how he was holding the bandage. "Don't tilt your head up."

Lieutenant winced when Medic readjusted the bandage.

Medic drew away and reevaluated the situation. "It's broken," he said.

"It’s just a new look I’m trying out – call it avant-garde." Lieutenant tried to laugh but ended up grimacing. He waved Medic away. "I'll survive."

Medic shook his head. "Wiseass." But he smiled. Then. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Lieutenant tilted his head against the wall, pieces of choppy hair falling away to reveal a swollen eye and pulsing bruises. He closed his eyes. Through a clenched jaw, he managed, "I think they broke my ribs."

Medic swallowed down a wave of helplessness. "Just stay still."

Lieutenant kept his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. "My pleasure."

Medic turned to Captain and Youngest. "So, you and you, where are you injured?" He only asked to make conversation. He had already identified that Youngest's arm was dislocated, hanging loosely at their side. And on Captain's right thigh was a raw-edged wound, seeping and damaged.

Medic took off his jacket, ready to tear it into makeshift bandages and a sling.

But neither looked at him.

Youngest was staring at something over Medic's shoulder. They pressed back into the wall, shaking.

"No," they whispered. "No. Not again."

Captain put a comforting hand on their shoulder, mouth set in a thin line.

Electric fear whispered a spider-like path down Medic's spine. They turned just as the cell door opened.

Whumper entered with two henchmen strolling behind them. Whumper grinned, teeth canine-sharp. His blood-red hair was tied back, accentuating fox-like features. He didn't look quite human-- too tall, too much of a bounce in his walk.

And he wouldn't stop smiling.

He swung a crowbar.

Even Lieutenant flinched.

Oh.

Oh.

Whumper arched an eyebrow when Medic stood his ground. "You're Medic?"

Medic glanced at Lieutenant-- saw panic and web-woven fear-- then back at Whumper. "Yes."

Whumper flicked the crowbar side to side. He kept talking, a paper mache smile at the corner of his mouth. "I don't appreciate you wrecking what I'm trying to build here."

Medic failed to understand. "I'm a medic. I have to provide care," he said automatically.

His head buzzed. He couldn't-- couldn't think clearly.

Whumper appeared to consider this. He tilted his head to the side. "I see. Well, I have to do things too, I get it."

"Yeah. Wait. No, what?"

The henchmen grabbed Medic. One kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel.

Medic struggled, lashing out like a trapped animal.

A henchman brought the edge of their gun over Medic's head and Medic slumped forward.

His vision suddenly doubled.

The short-wired tension burst into flame.

Captain lunged forward. "Leave him alone!"

It took two henchmen to restrain Captain, pinning their arms behind them, and another to kick Lieutenant in the ribs, so he doubled over coughing. Incapacitated.

Whumper leaned over Medic, tilting his chin up to look him in the eye. "You should have left well enough alone," he whispered.

Medic snarled something unintelligible. A curse. A plea. He didn't know.

Whumpr straightened. To the others, he said, "You all break as easily as his hands will. And if you don't believe me? Watch."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Realization hit with a dull, sick thud. "No!" Lieutenant cried out, "No! No-- don't!"

But the henchmen had dragged Medic's hand out and splayed it on the tiles, kicking him when he tried to pull it away.

Whumper lifted the crowbar.

Medic's eyes widened in horror.

"No-- no, nonono! Please--" His voice arched into a desperate cry, more animal than human.

Crack.

A splintering sound.

All Medic could see was white. Electric pain filled every nerve, spilled into every bone, coating his teeth and burning-- burning, burning, burning.

A terrible sound ripped itself out of his throat.

And then again--

Crack.

His left hand.

Medic screamed.

Maybe he had screamed before.

Had always screamed.

Maybe he would scream forever.

Darkness filled the corners of his vision, blurring the sharp flashes of red of white--

Electric, pulsing red.

Burning, vicious white.

Blood trickled down his arms, bright and throbbing with a cinching pain.

Whumper wiped the gory crowbar on Medic's shirt.

His henchmen let the unconscious medic slump to the floor, little more than a bundle of clothes. They released Captain, who sank to the cell floor, unable to look away from Medic.

Whumper bent down by Lieutenant, whose breaths were coming in sharp drags. He wiped a tear off of Liutenant's face. "Crying?"

"No." His voice shook.

Whumper smiled generously. "Oh, no." He stood. "Tomorrow, one of you will offer up the information on your base. I do not make idle threats."

The door locked on the blood-soaked cell.

Lieutenant muffled a sob.

"We...we can't," said Captain. Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry.

They didn't know if they were apologizing to the unconscious Medic or to what remained of his hands.

tagging the people who interacted with the poll: @acer-gaysimpstuff, @yet-another-heathen, @another-whump-sideblog

[sergle]

I feel you, its so bad 😭, I had to go on a functioning adult human schedule for school and good god, out the house by 7am... bad bitches are not built for that..

WE REALLY ARE... and man, I can brute force myself into any schedule if there are things that HAVE to be done at certain times (like school, like you said) but it absolutely never feels "right". it feels like waking up at 3am to go to the airport type of shit. and it is truly so annoying... to get hit with the "that's a Normal schedule, you need to Fix your schedule" okay. alright. but let me hit you with this one. is it "normal" or is it just conducive to a 8 - 5. because no matter what my sleep schedule is like, or how locked in I am, I'm more clear headed at night + more productive and energetic. and no matter what, I'm tired during the day, especially the brightest times of day when the sun is allegedly supposed to be signaling my brain to be awake and alert. and it doesn't matter how much sleep I got.

[crimeronan]

bravely spent my whole morning going to doctor appointments and getting blood siphoned out of my body. guess who now has an urgent referral to an infection specialist 👍

[lavenoon]

rough little doodle of the besties because I love them

[feluka]

that comment is really making me lose my mind imagine writing so much with full confidence about something you know absolutely nothing about. average terf intelligence level i guess.

[sewer-rabbit]

I get why some people are upset about the rat grinders being killed (and in a meta way I kinda agree) but with how constantly stressed and exhausted the bad kids have been for the past year this just feels like a tipping point

[alicornze7]

okay, hear me out y'all-

Instead of dealing with my hyperfixations and seeking help I merged them!!1!11!!!

[i3utterflyeffect]

anyway after ava 6 you just know that untitled is getting the biggest group hug ever

[softquietsteadylove]

Hii love, how are you doing?

I had this little idea for the Mermaid Au:

What if gil and thena have been out all day and when they are heading back home, thena is too tired to keep using her legs and just colapses getting her tail back on so gil has to carry her all the way home. She is a little embarrassed about it but gil being the perfect boyfriend that he is comforts her and takes care of her.

Have a good day!! 🩷🤍

"Angelfish?"

Thena startled, catching her eyes drooping again. They'd had a wonderful day out, meeting Sersi for lunch, going to the mall with her to shop for clothes, then going to the market to get more fun things, like food. It was a fun day but she couldn't say she wasn't exhausted.

"Hey," Gil said more softly, turning to her and stopping despite the many, many bags in his hands. "You okay?"

She smiled at him, flashing her teeth, "of course!"

Gil smiled at her too, although his eyes dashed down just for a second. "Put those away, sweetie. We're almost home."

Thena ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth. Her fangs were poking out. She was losing her careful touch. "It was fun--being out with Sersi."

If Gil thought her behaviour was odd he kept it to himself. He shifted the bags so he could hold her hand. "It was, huh?"

"She found quite a lot of treasures," Thena denoted, glancing down at the many bags Gil was carrying. Sersi had insisted he carry them all.

"Yeah, Sersi's always wanted a sister to go out and do girl stuff with, like shopping and getting her hair done," Gil chuckled. "Even if I offered, she didn't wanna go shopping with her big brother. Not the same, y'know?"

She didn't. But Thena smiled; there did seem to be an interesting mentality to the activity of 'shopping', much like pack hunting. There was a bond, a pack mentality of a shared goal and a group satisfaction when treasure was found.

"Are you okay?" he asked her again, even leaning slightly to look into her eyes despite their difference in height. "She didn't tire you out?"

She had, but she wouldn't trade the fun they'd had for it. "No! Hunting with Sersi was quite enjoyable. It felt like when Kari and I would go looking for pearls."

Gil always enjoyed when she used imagery from her life back home. "I guess it would be like that."

They lapsed into silence again. Thena yawned, getting a taste of the salty air as they got closer to the water. She longed to slither into bed with Gil and have him massage the spot where her gills would be.

"Angelfish?...Thena!"

She blinked, wobbling on her feet and drifting into him.

Gil reacted, dropping any bags not dangling from his wrist and steadying her against him. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

She tried to reply, but she just blinked, feeling tongue-tied. She tried to get her feet under her again but she kept stumbling. "Gil?"

"Okay, okay, it's okay," he whispered as he brought them down lower. His head swivelled around until he gathered the bags and pulled her tighter. "Just a sec, Angelfish, it's okay."

Thena clung to him as he awkwardly shuffled them away from the sidewalk and onto the grass by a bench. They were lucky that they had parked Titania closer to the less used docks. Her eyes bulged, "Gil!"

"I know, sweetie, I know," he whispered to her, kissing her temple as he got her seated on the bench.

Thena gripped the back of it, watching her legs come together and scales erupt down the length of them again. Her tail reformed in front of her very eyes. It was a newfound, human reflex, but her hands went to tug at the hem of her dress (not that it mattered now).

Gil got her tail situated, as well as their many bags as he sat down next to her. He placed his hand on the shimmering scales of her tail, "you okay?"

Thena stared at her fins, blushing terribly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he grinned, but that wasn't helping. He ran his palm over her scales, "you've had a long day. Maybe your body felt your feet hurting and your tail decided to take over."

Thena grumbled within her throat. She touched a hand to her neck--her gills were emerging, too. "I understand the word 'humiliating' better, now."

Gil leaned over, kissing her cheek. "Come on, it's not that bad."

She gave him a look, flopping her tail limply as it was laid over his lap. If they were at home cuddling this would be one thing, but they were out in broad daylight.

"Okay, it's not ideal," he amended, still smiling though. He continued to admire her scales, petting her tail the way she'd seen people pet cats or dogs. She flicked the end of it. "I like seeing your tail."

Her blush wasn't getting any better. "You can't flatter the problem away."

"Maybe not," he shrugged. "So I have to carry you home, so what?"

It was embarrassing, that was what--like being a guppy and injuring your fin and having to one-sidedly paddle home.

"What if someone sees?" she mumbled, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself.

"Maybe they'll just think I'm carrying home my lovely girlfriend," Gil suggested so easily. It was a far cry from the man terrified of letting her walk around in public just a year ago. "My mate, I guess. And she's got on such a pretty, sparkly dress."

Thena sighed, letting him adjust his hold on her and scoot her more into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively. "Will people believe that?"

"Does it matter?"

Thena let him pile some of the bags in her lap and grasp the rest. Then he picked her up, carrying her tail the way he would her bent legs and behind her back. At least she wasn't slipping out of his grasp.

"Here we go," Gil grunted as he adjusted her weight and the load of their bounty. "Ready?"

Thena declined to answer, choosing to bury her face in the side of his neck. The bounce of his chest against her told her he was still finding this all rather humorous.

"Y'know, the first time I held you to get you out of the water," he began during their short but significantly slower trip back to the beach. "I thought 'wow, she's so light'. And then I realised how tight I had to hold you and, uh, I tried not to think about the rest."

"Hm," she mused, still preferring the refuge of hiding herself away.

"You were warmer than I thought you would be," he continued, regardless of her embarrassment. "Holding your tail is harder than holding onto legs. But it's not like it's totally unstructured either."

"Is that so?" she asked mostly just to say something. She eyed her tail, uselessly flopping over the edge of his arm.

"I can't carry you on my back like this, but we have a name for this method."

"For what?" she lifted her head to look at him. He had that grin on his face that he got when he was about to teach her something about human life.

"Holding someone--carrying them like this," he indicated, bouncing her a little despite the crinkling of the bags. "It's called the bridal carry."

"What's that?"

Gilgamesh looked at her, his eyes soft and warm. "It's for, uh, mates. It's not that only mates do this, but the original name for it means...something pretty significant."

She still didn't understand what he was really talking about. But he had that look on his face that made her insides feel like a school of minnows. She blinked a few times, resisting the urge to clamp down on his neck and declare him hers. Humans didn't do that kind of thing to lay claim to their mates.

"What I'm saying is I'm happy to carry you, Angelfish," he clarified, continuing down the hill. The beach came into view, "we're almost there."

She kept her thoughts to herself. Gil was right, they were mates. She had no reason to find him helping her so terrible. She would do the same for him if he were injured. She opted not to sink her teeth into his shoulder; humans had more gentle ways of affection.

Gil smiled as she pressed her lips to his cheek and the faint rumble of her purring started. "I've got you, Angelfish."

He had her for all her life, if only he knew.