#the whump couch

[katblu42]

Just a Little Setback

For the Whump Couch challenge organised by @uniwolfcorn, here is our contribution. Fic by me, awesome art (and assistance with story ideas) by the wonderful @nourelle-tracy.

A little bit of FishTank post SOS hurt/comfort for you all.

Just a Little Setback

Four o’clock in the afternoon was far too early to feel this sleepy. Okay, granted Gordon was still healing from some very nasty injuries, and taking some medications that had a tendency to wipe him out for a while, but lately his sleep schedule had evened out into a consistent pattern and this was not normal.

Sleepy and hot.  Okay, so they lived in the tropics and hot was a relative term, but lounging on the couch in the sunken lounge area usually didn’t have him feeling like a reptile under a heat lamp.

He considered letting his eyes drift closed and settling in for a nap, but Virgil would be here any minute to help him through his daily physio exercises. 

Thirsty.  He was incredibly thirsty.

Gordon could normally roll himself up into a sitting position and reach for his water bottle in one smooth move, but today the motion had his vision suddenly full of sparkles and the whole room spinning.

A steadying hand landed on his shoulder.  Large, strong, but gentle.

“Gordon?”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He immediately regretted giving the automatic response.  Medic mode level one was already engaged before his big brother had even spoken, and that answer was likely to dial up the smothering to at least level five, if not all the way up to ten.

The water bottle was deposited into Gordon’s hand, and as he took a swig, cool fingers traced across the uninjured side of his forehead, brushing damp hair back from his eyes.

“Wanna try that again, Squid?”  Virgil’s deep baritone and soft brown eyes both exuded concern as he knelt in front of the couch where Gordon sat trying not to look as helpless as he felt.  A medscanner appeared as if by magic, no doubt procured from some pocket or other.  Yep – medic mode was definitely fully engaged now.

Gordon let out a huge sigh, which then left him feeling slightly dizzy and had him gladly leaning into the security of that familiar hold Virgil still had on his shoulder.

“Feeling sleepy,” Gordon confessed.  “And hot.”

“Mmm.”  Virgil studied the readings from the medscanner.  “You’re running a fever.  Looks like that head wound of yours has become infected.”

Gordon merely groaned in answer.

The fingers returned to stroke through his hair again.

“Don’t worry, Gords.  It’s just a little setback.  We’ll get it sorted, I promise.”

Virgil encouraged Gordon to drink more of his water, then disappeared to grab some supplies from the infirmary and talk to Grandma about antibiotics to treat the infection.  He returned minutes later and began carefully removing the bandage from Gordon’s forehead.

Gordon wasn’t sure when, but at some point during Virgil’s ministrations Grandma had appeared and given him some pills and another glass of water.  Antibiotics to treat the infection.  He wasn’t thrilled about yet another medication to add to the list, but he knew better than to argue with Grandma.

The cool dampness of the cloth Virgil applied to clean the wound was a welcome relief from the unrelenting heat of the fever and Gordon counted himself lucky to have family around him to take care of him like this.  His heavy-lifting brother’s hands were reassuringly steady, every action perfectly deliberate, but ever so gentle as he finished redressing the wound.

“Now get some rest, little brother,” Virgil said softly once he was done.  “You can sleep here, or I can take you up to your room if you’d rather sleep in your own bed.”

He wanted to protest, but one look into those big brown eyes and he knew he didn’t have it in him to fight the mother bear right now.

“I’ll stay here,” was his meek reply.

Virgil gave a nod as a fond smile crept across his face, and he sat on the couch beside his injured brother, gently easing them both into a position such that Gordon lay with his head cradled in a  pillow on his big brother’s lap.  One cheek rested against the warm flannel of Virgil’s shirt and he could hear the rhythm of a heartbeat. The gentle rise and fall of each breath almost felt like the lull of waves rocking a boat on the water.

Again the stroking fingers returned, along with the musical vibration of Virgil’s soft humming. A familiar tune, one of Gordon’s favourites.  Who knew sea shanties could be such good lullabies.

[uniwolfcorn]

❗️AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT❗️

Greetings Thunderfam/Anderfam! I hope all of you are doing well and had a wonderful Thanksgiving, holidays, & New Years!

Now, I have been thinking for a long while about this. And now I think it's time I begin setting it into motion. I've decided to start a Thunderbirds/Anderson event. I would like to present to you all...

✨️The Whump Couch!✨️

☆

How it'll work:

I'll draw and post a picture of the (TAG) Tracy Villa couch. You lovely people in Thunderfam can add a drawing of a whumpee on the couch. The artist can write a fic with said drawing, or something similar to a minibang; ask someone to draw/write for them (you don't have to only do Thunderbirds! Go wild with the Anderverse)!

☆

Rules:

•One drawing and fic entry per person please. This is to make sure nobody gets overwhelmed!

•While whump, anguish, and such are allowed, please do not draw/write anything super explicit (NSFW, heavy gore, etc).

•Artists can choose to either use the couch as their separate canvas or squeeze in other drawings.

•When posting a submission, please mention me and use the tag #the whump couch

•Please remember to credit each other's work.

☆

When it'll start:

The event will start on February 1 - March 5. I've been suggested to start in 2023, so can be a fresh start for everyone.

This will be my first ever event I hold, so apologies if anything is unethical. But remember this is all in the name of fun! Take your time and don't stress over anything. Also, feel free to leave any questions or suggestions on how I can improve the event or anything!

☆

Tagging the lovely artists & writers of Thunderfam: @dragonoffantasyandreality, @teapotteringabout, @louthestarspeaker, @alexthefly, @tikatu, @tsarinatorment, @janetm74, @katblu42, @dreamycloud, @willow-salix, @lenle-g, @knyee, @shirubie, @godsliltippy, @gumnut-logic, @ak47stylegirl, @mothmannerly, @squiddokiddo, @skymaiden32, @malignedangel, @chenria, @avengedbiologist, @misstb2, @thunderforsty, @thundergirl007💕

☆

Apologies if I forgot anybody! Thank you all so much for reading! I'm very excited and I can't wait to see what you guys come up with (even if don't you join in, it's alright. You still rock)!❤️🧡💛💚💙🩵💜💖🩷🖤🤎🩶🤍🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌟

[skymaiden32]

Here is my entry for @uniwolfcorn ‘s Whump Couch, ft. her boy Alan! ^^ (Sorry if this is a little late)

Artwork (base by Uni, Alan by me):

Story:

Consequences

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

When Alan is injured on a rescue and keeps it secret from his brothers, he learns very quickly that hiding these sorts of things has consequences.

Continuity: TOS

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or write new stories)

------

It had started in his left arm, a tingly sensation that was his only warning something was wrong before the limb went entirely numb. He barely remembered the fall that caused it. All he remembered was practically his entire weight falling on top of it. He’d brushed off his brothers’ worried questions, but now he wanted to call it quits. Get Scott to call Virgil over and patch him up. Hell, he knew he should’ve done just that. But they’d only been in the Danger Zone for two hours. And given how extensive the flooded area was, with so many people who needed their help, Alan knew they would be there for a full day at the least. They couldn’t afford to have a man down right now.

So Alan had stayed, avoiding the problem with typical Tracy stubbornness, and pushed through. The more he did, the worse the pain became, spreading across his entire being until he couldn’t take it any longer. By the end, he felt like his entire body was on fire. He let out a small sigh of relief when it was finally time to go home. He noticed Scott’s concerned glare in his direction as they packed up the equipment, Gordon and Virgil giving him similar looks, and he tried to push down the wave of guilt.

Now, he watched Virgil start pre-flight checks, flicking on controls tiredly, but with enough experience and training behind him that no-one was afraid of him falling asleep at the wheel. The engines roared into life, and the great green ship took to the sky, not far behind her silver sister. Gordon took notice of the exact moment his little brother blacked out from the pain, and sighed, catching Virgil’s attention.

“Welp.” The aquanaut began, popping the p. “I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to hide it for almost the whole time. I didn’t even realise something was wrong till we were packing up.”

Virgil huffed, switching Thunderbird Two to auto-pilot and moving from his pilot’s chair to where his youngest brother lay motionless in one swift motion. “He had me fooled too.” He was ashamed to admit it. Virgil was the medic, he was supposed to notice. Now, he grimaced when he saw the state of Alan’s arm. His brother was lucky this wasn’t worse. “And we both know Scott would’ve gone into full panic Smotherhen mode if he’d noticed anything wrong.” Virgil moved to the back of the cabin, grabbing what he needed from the first-aid cabinet.

“He’s probably blaming himself for it all right now.” Gordon mused worriedly.

“And we’re gonna snap him out of it once we’re done with Mr. Secrets here.” Virgil gestured to Alan’s prone form, rolling his eyes fondly. The frown was ever present on his face. “For now, though, hold him in place while I set his arm.”

The aquanaut nodded, determined. “Aye, aye, Doc.” When they had finally finished, Gordon lay Alan’s head gently in his lap, combing his fingers through wet and sticky blond hair. “Yeesh, Al…” Gordon muttered. “You really need a shower.”

------

By the time Alan finally woke up, it was to the sick-bay on Tracy Island, Scott and his father watching over him with looks that were the perfect blend between angry and worried. Virgil was standing just inside the room, leaning against the doorway in the case he needed to intervene. He was dead. He was so dead…

“And just what exactly were you thinking, young man?” Jeff asked maybe a little too harshly, raising an eyebrow.

Scott rolled his eyes, giving the patriarch a look. “Dad, please. He just woke up…” 

Jeff sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.” He looked back to his youngest, adjusting his tone to something a hint gentler. “You alright to talk, son?” Alan nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. “Oh, good…”

“Gordon left a few hours to pick up Tin-Tin from her doctor’s appointment. They’ll be back soon. That being said, why did you think hiding an injury like that would be a good idea?” Scott echoed their father’s earlier question. 

“We were worried about you, Al.” Virgil piped up from the other side of the room. Jeff and Scott nodded in agreement. “You were incredibly lucky it wasn’t a compound fracture.” He admitted.

This statement made everyone else in the room freeze. “It-” Scott’s voice was uncharacteristically small. “It was that bad?” 

Virgil nodded solemnly. “Gordon can back up that claim…” The family medic whispered.

“He doesn’t need to.” Jeff spoke up, immediately picking up on the idea that Virgil might be doubting himself. “We have full faith in your medical expertise, son.” Virgil didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded.

“I’m sorry…” Alan’s voice came out so shaky from the pain as he moved that he hardly recognised it, but he was determined to get the words out. “I knew I should’ve come to you guys sooner.” His voice regulated the more he talked. “But we had so much ground to cover and only four of us. I couldn’t just let you all work your butts off while I was stuck in Two’s med-bay doing nothing!”

The three older Tracy’s exchanged a look, before Scott huffed, not unkindly. “Alan, let me worry about stuff like that. You know the authorities were there to assist. I would’ve rather been a man down than have you still working with that arm.”

“But-”

Scott cut off his objection. “If you really would’ve been that bored in Two, I would’ve given you something to do.” He smiled tiredly at his brother, ruffling his hair. “Probably would’ve let you take Mobile Control…” He shrugged, smirking as he broke his gaze with Alan briefly.

“Aww man…” Alan lamented. He’d wanted a chance to man Mobile Control again for months. 

Virgil chuckled. “That’s what you get for ignoring protocol and not telling us you’d broken. Your. Arm!” The annoyed gaze was back.

Jeff cleared his throat, drawing his boys’ attention back to him. “All that aside, what you did today was very dangerous, Alan. What if you needed to operate the heavy machinery? What if, heaven forbid, our enemies had picked up on your injury and taken advantage? You should’ve told the others straight away.”

“I know, Father. I’m sorry…”

“I know you are, son. I’ll let you rest for now, but we will be talking about this more later, okay?” 

“Okay.” And with that, their father was gone, likely to let the rest of the family know he was awake. “Thank God John’s only just started his month on Five…” Alan groaned. “And Tin is probably out of her mind I really messed this one up, didn’t I?”

Neither of his brothers present said a word. Instead, all they heard were the sounds of heavy footsteps before the door flew open once more, and Alan was face to face with his partner in crime, the love of his life right on his heels. “Are you okay, Alan?!” Gordon practically yelled, earning him a stern glance from Scott.

Alan chuckled, clinging onto the hand Tin-Tin offered. The look in her eyes told him she’d be giving him her own lecture later. “I will be, Gords.” He let his eyes slip closed, safe in the knowledge that he had the most amazing family watching over him. He’d never keep them in the dark again. “I will be…”

[greywake]

The Bridge

AO3 link

Some bad luck lands Virgil in some very cold water.

For @uniwolfcorn's Whump Couch event.

I had an absolute blast writing this and it was a pleasure to work with @godsliltippy!

“Scans are showing that parts of the upper deck on the Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch side are failing. You need to hurry Thunderbird Two.”

“FAB,” Virgil responded automatically as he transferred the flight controls over to the Squid.

“The what now?” 

Virgil rolled his eyes, listening to John and Gordon as he headed down to the module to don his exosuit.

“Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerchwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” Virgil could just imagine the smug smirk on his space monitor brother’s face as he got to show off his superior linguistic skills.

“Lan-vi-ar-pith-gwin-gith…what?”

“Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgoger…”

“Knock it off you two. Rescue now. Welsh lessons later.”

“FAB.”

He contained his mirth as Scott’s commander voice put a stop to the nascent bickering. It was amusing and certainly good for morale, but he couldn’t blame his big brother for calling time on the nonsense before it had been established that the area was safe and no one was in danger.

Virgil nodded to Alan as the youngest Tracy finished prepping his pod and climbed in. "Concentrate on locating anyone in trouble on the lower deck then do what you can to shore up the sections."

Alan gave him a thumbs up and an "FAB" as they both prepared to exit the module.

With a warning from Gordon, the floor opened up underneath them. Yawning wide into the darkness of a very, very a.m. February morning in the local time zone.

Alan's pod launched, dropping down and catching the air with its rotors as the youngest went off to fulfil his assigned task. Virgil held onto his line as he was lowered to the road surface from the belly of his bird. When he judged the ground to be close enough he let go, falling the last few metres to land comfortably with the aid of his exosuit.

The rain had stopped earlier, but the still-slick surface reflected the lights from their ships, the streetlamps, and the floodlights of the attending locals as he assessed the situation.

The upper deck had partially collapsed onto the train tracks beneath, leaving a twenty-meter gap. The fact that there was also a large section of the lower deck missing only made the matter worse. It almost looked like someone had dropped a giant boulder on top of the bridge and it had just torn through both levels before falling into the waters of the Menai Strait below them.

It was lucky that it was so early in the local morning as it meant that only a handful of vehicles were in trouble, but those were balanced precariously on the edge of a long drop.

“Virgil,” John’s voice sounded professional and calm over the comms. “Secure the vehicles ahead of you. The local crews report two people still trapped in them.”

“FAB.”

He moved forward cautiously, testing his weight on the buckled surface to make sure he wouldn’t inadvertently tip the precarious balance and send everything crashing down. It felt uncomfortably like walking on a trampoline as he made his way to the nearest car. The driver was conscious but pinned to their seat by the steering wheel. He smiled kindly at them and motioned for them to hold on a little longer as he edged forward to check the other car.

The driver of this one was unconscious, which was possibly a blessing in disguise as their car was hanging partially over the long drop. A glance told Virgil that the only reason it hadn’t fallen was the way it had wedged on the vehicle behind.

Making a quick decision, Virgil used the grasping arm of his exosuit to hold the dangling car, while he freed his other hand and tugged the driver’s door open. With the ease of practice, he swiftly cut the driver’s belt strap and grabbed her by the arm to drag her free.

He held her close as the teetering car squealed a protest at the shift in weight distribution and hurried her onto the safer sections where firefighters took over with a makeshift stretcher.

As he turned back to the other rescuee he saw his 'bird landing on the mainland side of the bridge. Gordon would be using the other pod to give Alan some backup in his efforts with the stabilising foam.

Knowing that his brothers had the stability of the structure covered, Virgil moved forward with confidence. Even with the minor bounce of the road surface, he was able to reach the other car and pull the door open with little effort.

"Hey, I'm with International Rescue. What's your name?"

"Huw."

He gave the kid, around Gordon's age, a reassuring smile and set about releasing him. "How're you feeling, Huw? Anything hurt?"

Huw grimaced. "My leg's stuck."

Virgil nodded his understanding and checked the situation below the steering wheel. "Okay. I'm going to make enough space for you to move, then I want you to hold onto me while I pull you out. Got that?"

The young man nodded nervously.

With one more reassuring smile, Virgil used the jaws of life on his exosuit to force the steering wheel and dash away from the trapped driver’s legs. A yelp of pain told him that Huw was free and he manhandled him out of the car, dragging him to more solid ground.

“Milly…”

“Who?” Virgil frowned. He hadn’t seen anyone else in the car.

“My cat…she’s in her travel box. On the back seat.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He let go of Huw, making sure the kid was able to stand without support before he hurried back to the car. He grimaced as the broken sections creaked and groaned along with his movement but continued anyway. Pulling the rear door open, he saw the carefully secured pet carrier on the opposite side and, taking advantage of the extra reach his suit provided, Virgil released the straps and gently lifted the carrier clear of the car. He stepped away from the vehicle and turned back towards the injured rescuee and the firefighter who’d come forward to help. 

Virgil fell to his knees with a shocked gasp as the ground beneath him suddenly tilted.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the cars next to him slid over the edge and into the darkness. He took a deep breath and tossed the pet carrier towards Huw as gently as he could before the section beneath him sagged even further.

The concrete sank at an increasingly alarming angle, leaving him desperately scrabbling for a handhold. He slid back, coming closer and closer to the long drop as the rain-slick surface denied him purchase.

There was a cry of fear from a brother as Virgil slipped over the edge, managing to catch the broken tarmac with his grasping arm.

“I’m okay. Could use a hand though!” he reassured, voice breathless as he tried to regain his composure.

“Just hold on, I’m coming!”

His breath caught in his throat as the hunk of road holding him up crumbled and the sudden freefall caught him by surprise.

He fell.

One chunk of debris among many.

He struck the lower deck before bouncing off into the yawning darkness of the strait below, only adding a spin to his already disorientating descent.

A sharp stab of cold engulfed him as the raging waters closed over his head.

There was pain as he fought his way to the surface only to be dragged deeper as he was buffeted along in the current.

He could hear nothing but the roar of the water in his ears as he fought the weight pulling him down.

As if a flare went off in his head, his mind suddenly switched to survival mode. The exosuit. The thing which helped him save so many was going to kill him if he couldn’t get it off.

Virgil struggled. Temporarily ignoring the need to get to the surface in favour of getting out of the support structure that was holding him under.

His movements hampered by the push-pull-twist of the swirling river, he managed to shed the exosuit just in time to be slammed against a rock before being scraped past it.

Virgil fought his way to what he hoped was the surface. He could see nothing in the darkness of the strait and between that and being tumbled from rock to rock he had lost track of which way was up.

Ironically, it was a crack in his faceplate that saved him. Battered and disorientated, he still had enough awareness left to realise that the water leaking through was running in the wrong direction.

After some gasped curses and pain that made him want to give up, Virgil broke the surface.

The back of his baldric caught on something and he felt himself stilling in the water as the currents continued to barrel past him. Trusting whatever held him to keep him in place, he flailed at his helmet, managing to pull it off and breathe wet but clear air.

He was exhausted, he hurt, and he could barely think after the ride he’d been through.

The current seemed to ease, letting him just drift along with whatever had grabbed him.

There was something bothering him. Something that scratched at the back of his mind as he floated, shivering, in the darkness. His thoughts felt almost slippery as he tried to summon the thing to the front but it refused to cooperate.

The cold of the water was nice brushing against the fire in his limbs. It lulled him as he rocked gently with the tide. So calm after the rage of the beginning of his journey. It almost suggested a song to his tired mind. Something soft and peaceful.

Most of them would probably get bored if he played it for them. John though, he’d like it. John could appreciate calm and peace.

John…he should talk to him. There was something important to say, but he couldn’t remember what.

He closed his eyes.

oOoOo

“It’s been forty minutes already, John. Please tell me you’ve found him!”

Gordon chewed on his lip as he listened to the space monitor once again respond with a negative.

He’d watched, helpless, as Virgil had fallen along with the crumbling road surface into the churning water below.

John had lost his suit telemetry almost immediately and comms shortly after that. Not that Virgil had responded to any of their shouts.

With the incident on the bridge under control, they’d turned all of their efforts to locating their missing operative, with local experts augmenting Thunderbird Five’s scans but nothing had come of it.

Yet.

“Yet” was the important bit.

“Alan, let’s do another pass. The tide’s turned so there’s a good chance Virg’ll be heading back this way.” It was nonsense, of course. He had nothing to base that on but if it gave hope then he would hold onto that lie until there was nothing left.

Wanting to give them every opportunity to find him, Gordon hung on the rescue harness and opened the bay doors, to allow him the closest view of the dark river as Alan carefully flew Thunderbird Two low over the surface.

This section, between the two bridges, was called the Swellies, apparently because of the whirlpools and rough water that characterised the area. It wasn’t unheard of for even experienced skippers to fall foul of the rocks and currents on this stretch.

He stared into the circles of light lancing down from Two willing a glimpse of their brother to appear before him.

There were the streaks of light from the rain, the whites of the wave-tops as they broke over the rocks, the reflective strips on the buoys where they marked the location of fish traps by the weir, and the occasional mass of dark blue and green driftwood making its way along with the current.

Wait! Blue and green!

“Alan! Go back! That mass of driftwood!” Gordon shouted into his comms, certain that it wasn’t just his imagination.

The spotlight seemed to stutter as Two reversed her position.

“There! I have eyes on him!”

Gordon dropped the line as fast as he could then dove into the water as soon as he was close enough.

The current pulled viciously as he surfaced and he understood why Virgil hadn’t responded to any of their calls. He surfaced, and going with the tide, swam over to the unconscious man.

Virgil’s lips were blue and his breathing laboured.

Gordon swore softly, “He’s got hypothermia. We’ve gotta get him out of the water.”

He ignored the background calls of instructions that weren’t addressed to him directly and concentrated on working his injured brother free of the branch that had saved him. That done, he wrestled the unconscious lump of muscle into the rescue harness and, kicking them both free of the driftwood, gave the command to haul them both up into the belly of Virgil’s beloved ‘bird.

He waited impatiently for Alan to close the bay doors, then released himself and hauled a hover stretcher under his brother and ran the med scanner over him.

“Alan, get us to the nearest hospital. Virgil’s temperature’s dangerously low.”

“FAB.”

Gordon could feel the ship bank as Alan guided her on the right path as he began peeling the torn and soaked uniform off to replace it with thermal blankets.

Moments later he heard the whine of the VTOL thrusters as Thunderbird Two settled on the ground and the module door opened to greet the team of medical staff who were racing to the helipad to take over.

It was the longest sixty seconds of Gordon’s life.

oOoOo

He was warm. Deliciously so. And the comfortable confinement of his weighted blanket made him feel languid and calm. It’d be better if that beeping would stop though. And he could do without whatever it was pressing around his nose and mouth.

“Hey, Virg. Back with us?”

It took a moment to place the voice, but then he remembered it was Gordon. Why was he in his room?

He tried opening his eyes, only to find them annoyingly gritty. A grimace later and he’d managed to crack them open enough to take in an unfamiliar room and a concerned look on his brother’s face.

That didn’t last though. As soon as Gordon registered that he was awake the blond broke out one of his signature sunshine smiles. “Welcome back, bro. No more falling off bridges. Okay?”

Memories of his fall and near drawing followed by being so cold he almost couldn’t feel it any more slammed into him. “Sure, Fish. I’ll try.”

His co-pilot grinned, “I’ll hold you to that.”

[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

i think tim is high maintenance the way a boarder collie or austrialian shepherd is. like you have to make sure they're not only given space to expend energy but you have to specifically let them get the herding instinct out and challenge them intellectually or they start destroying ur home

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Burnt Money (2000)

@of-wounds-and-woes has a lovely gifset of this here!

[aceofwhump]

The A-Team 2x23 "Curtain Call"

[echo-goes-mmm]

We don't have enough vampire caretakers in whump

Think of the possibilities! Sure they may or may not feed off of whumpee, but that's a very small price to pay for safety in a thoroughly hurt whumpee's mind

Vampire Caretakers can tell with a taste or even smell that whumpee needs more calcium or iron in their diet

Vampire Caretakers can use their Charm ability to help soothe whumpee

Vampire Caretakers who have all the time in the world with many resources to make whumpee as comfortable as possible

Vampire Caretakers that no whumper would Dare cross bc Caretaker could CRUSH them

Vampire caretakers Will Kill for their whumpee and god help Whumper when Vampire Caretaker gets ahold of them

Idk I wanna see a person capable of great harm being the kindest, gentlest person in a whumpees life

And maybe Vampire Caretaker has been lonely for far too long and now? A Friend! And they Will Love and Cherish their new companion damnit

[tictac-murder-spaghetti]

Wanted to post this after some of my writing but as long as that isn't working I'm gonna have to give you sketches now so, fluffy Ambrose and Strychnine :) Ambrose is not a very good pillow for anyone EXCEPT Strychnine

[rosy-bless]

something incredibly tender about a self-conscious, painstakingly composed sickie finally wearing themselves out and unavoidably submitting to the untidiness and vulnerability of a head cold

[brutal-nemesis]

Can I request more Twyla pics please? 🥺👉👈

Baby dog,,,,,

[uniwolfcorn]

I finally present to all...

🌟The Whump Couch!🌟

A Reminder of the Rules:

☆You lovely people in Thunderfam can add a drawing of the whumpees/whumpers on the couch. The artist can write a fic with said drawing, or something similar to a minibang; ask someone to draw/write for them (you don't have to only do Thunderbirds! Go wild with the Anderverse)!

☆One drawing and fic entry per person please. This is to make sure nobody gets overwhelmed!

☆While whump, anguish, and such are allowed, please do not draw/write anything super explicit (NSFW, heavy gore, etc).

☆Artists can choose to either use the couch as their separate canvas or squeeze in other drawings.

☆When posting a submission, please mention me and use the tag #the whump couch (and to clarify just in case, no submission posts in the reblogs please!)

☆Please remember to credit each other's work.

I've decided to try out acrylic for the first time for a special event like this! I'm happy with the results tbh!

Tagging the lovely artists & writers of Thunderfam: @dragonoffantasyandreality, @teapotteringabout, @louthestarspeaker, @alexthefly, @tikatu, @tsarinatorment, @janetm74, @katblu42, @dreamycloud, @willow-salix, @lenle-g, @knyee, @shirubie, @godsliltippy, @gumnut-logic, @ak47stylegirl, @mothmannerly, @squiddokiddo, @skymaiden32, @malignedangel, @chenria, @avengedbiologist, @misstb2, @thunderforsty, @thundergirl007, @the-original-sineater, @twistedoliver, @mrmustachious, @galaxygenderfluid, @greentigergirl, @greywake, @olliepig, @tanushakyrano, @gaviiadastra, @reallyhardydraws💕

Good luck Everyone!🥰❤️🧡💛💚💙🩵💜💖🩷🖤🤎🩶🤍🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌟

[daringdarlingdt]

Out of Sight, Out of Mind is such a good episode. Maybe I just like it because it’s so totally Hawkeye-centric and those are my favourite but I love him being passed off from person to person, I love his general cheery demeanour despite the circumstances, and explaining to BJ—who’s projected his own coping mechanism of ~running away~ onto Hawkeye,—how the experience has actually taught him a lot and that even though he’s scared, especially given that being a surgeon is such a huge part of his identity and has always been a top priority for him, he has discovered that there’s an advantage to being blind.

I love how restless he is as well, because it’s classic Hawkeye characterization that he bores easily and personally I hc him as adhd and like the scene with Radar where he’s mid-letter then wants to try to juggle then gives up after one try and goes back to the letter in contrast to him explaining to BJ how he spent 2 hours just listening to the rain… like actually his temporary blindness gave him a chance to just be at peace and focus entirely on one very simple thing and spend the day being hyper-conscience of his surroundings. I love him forming a connection with the blind soldier in post-op as well. When he gets nervous after Potter leaves him alone in a room with no warning. Him entering the ER and being able to Smell a perforated intestine. The B-plot of Frank listening to the game in an earlier broadcast and then gambling on the result and cheating the rest of the camp out of their money, and Hawk and gang faking a broadcast to expose him. I also feel like the amount of nurse-flirting was in a sweet spot of being kinda fun and cheeky without being the harassment that it usually was in earlier seasons and thats fun.

Nothing really happens all episode except Hawkeye floating around camp hanging out with everyone, experiencing the inconveniences of his condition, gaining a new appreciation for lots of things he takes for granted, and just like. being himself and it’s a really fantastic episode. It’s funny and sweet without focusing on silly antics or having a heartbreaking anti-war sentiment. I love both those types of episodes but this works really well as a meaningful yet comforting character episode and I really appreciate it for that.

My only criticism is that the way he is temporarily blinded is so contrived. NO WAY is Hawkeye the only one in camp handy enough to fix the stove come ON we all know that man couldn’t tell a screwdriver from a wrench

[wearejericho]

@mvnces​ reblogged this meme and camille had an idea

    ❝ you’re joking. ❞

    connor wasn’t even supposed to still be here. his shift technically ended over an hour ago, but he was majorly behind on paperwork. he wouldn’t be able to sleep until his desk was clutter-free again. he’s only got a few pages left when officer wilson approaches his desk. ‘guess who we just brought in?’ it wasn’t that rian was at the station often, but more that connor dragged him along to social events. ‘he was cleared by paramedics. we’re holding him in cell two.’ ❝ you’re joking. ❞ connor’s cheeks turn red and hot, jaw clenches as wilson goes over the details. 

    he knows he should take a moment to calm down, but he’s up and out of his seat before he can even think straight. a quick fingerprint gains him access into the cell. luckily, they’re mostly sound proof— ❝ are you FUCKING kidding me? ❞ connor stomps straight into the room, and he doesn’t hold back. ❝ they said the bullet grazed your head! your fucking head! where is your head?! ❞ the moment he sees rian start to stand up from the bed he immediately pushes him back down by his shoulders. ❝ people are fuckin’ insane and you go around trying to pick fights. grow up. ❞

[roblingoblin285]

whumpee is sick or injured and needs to take their medication. they can’t get it themselves, they can’t even stand in this state. but caretaker has fallen asleep and whumpee can’t wake them from where they are (or maybe doesn’t even try; they don’t want to be a burden). whumpee is left to stew in their misery and pain, exhausted to the bone.

[agoddamn]

The two most immaculate home medicine/post-whump scenarios are 1) laying someone out on the kitchen table and 2) laying someone out in the bathtub

Putting someone bloody on the carpet or god forbid the couch is the height of privilege and against the whole spirit of MacGuyver medicine!