#Don't mind the tag format

[ne0nwithazero]

Sorry Rayne was late yet again 💙

[irregularjohnnywiggins]

You ever have those moments where an idea just... won't leave your head?

[chloesimaginationthings]

(continuation of previous ask) I looked at their blog just now and they actually might be a bot? idk tbh

Thanks to everyone who’s brought this to my attention!

I’m pretty certain @/jyedthrry6 is a bot, they were uploading commonly reposted text posts, until somehow stumbling into lifting from my account. I think the give away to em being a bot is how they’ve reposted not just my comics, but my patreon announcement images, and images I shared on ask replies, so the same cropped images just on its own

My suggestion is just to report them for spam, cause I think it is a legit spam bot who accidentally got wind of my work 🙏🏾

[matchalovertrait]

After about 10 months of dating, Dulce decided it was time for her family to meet Caruso, and well... let's just say that things could've gone better.... Will this shake things up in the Alegría household?

Note: For those who don't know, the "discovery" of "spa water" was a very real thing 💀 That sounds so unappetizing. Insulting in many ways lol.

Transcript

Erick: Nice to meet you, Caruso!

Noemí: What a pleasure to finally meet you.

Caruso: Thank you. I see where your daughter got her good looks from.

Noemí: Oh my! How flattering.

Ángel: Um... is he really using his phone at the dinner table?

Noemí: It's so nice to have every seat filled up at the table! Now we wait for the grandchildren to come.

Erick: [Whispers] Are you seeing what I'm seeing...

Pavan is completely oblivious, too in love with Ángel to notice anything.

Ángel: [Whispers] Yeah...

Erick: I'll give him another chance... Nice shirt, what's your favorite album of theirs?

Caruso: Oh, I don't listen to this band. Their music is boring. I thought the design on the shirt looked rad as hell.

Erick: I see.... please excuse me.

Noemí: Your agua fresca is amazing! It's agua de pepino, right?

Caruso: ...Agua... fresca? No, no. This is my creation! I call it "spa water."

Noemí: Oh... clever.

Ángel: I'm not sure if my drawing is conveying the message y'know?

Pavan: Looks great to me. The colors play into the theme of not escaping one's past.

Ángel: Ah perfect. I was going to sign myself up for Color Theory 101 again.

Caruso: Color theory? What's there to theorize? Colors exist, obviously. Just look everywhere, haha. Am I right or am I right?

Ángel: Is this a joke?

Noemí: Ahem... Mija, can you come help sing a lullaby to the fish? They won't sleep.

Dulce: Oh we have pet fish now? Since when do fish need music to sleep anyway? [Says quietly] Also, I sing well?

Caruso: Yeah you sing beautifully.

Noemí: Um... It's a new kind of science. Let's go, just the two of us.

[piningpercussionist]

Pine Face Jumpscare

Still got no idea where my fabric paints are, but here I am as (slightly scuffed) Kim! (Second shot mostly there to show off the belt.)

And below the cut here I'll have some other shots that kinda show the hair color a little more accurately

Second shot here had my hair combed a little differently to make it more poofy- meant to do that before taking these, but like... y'all will probably see me do this again. I originally wanted to do outdoor shots, so- next time!

Also bonus jacket I got the other day- kind of a good modern au stand-in for the normal Dia de Los Muertos party fit, right?

[luna-loveboop]

Legend sick fics you say 👀

Well I don’t think I remember too many sick fics off the top of my head but weathered and wavering by Quirkle is very good.

Once you have a collection please do share with the class 🫶

Hehe yeah. Here is the original post about Legend sick fics. I got a lot of recommendations in the replies and reblogs that are so cool- seriously I read a ton of them and you guys are so awesome (/gen)

@uniquevoidflowers wrote this fic for me which is amazing of course- it has some of the coolest imagery with a flower thermometer which makes me very happy

Pretty much all of @skyward-floored 's sick fics are awesome, including this legend one that was instantly recommended to me by quite a lot of people lol (since it was posted very recently) (go read it)

Fill the cracks with gold by @sister-dear was so fun to read, it might be one of my favourites for Four

I loved Hiding behind plaster and ceramics by @occasionallyprosie -it had a lot of takes I hadn't seen before and was also very good writing

@arecaceae175 recommended down, a nine chapter sickfic that is really good, I loved reading it.

There's a lot of other ones, and most of them are in the notes of the post I made:

@the-au-collector made this reblog with a ton of good recommendations, and @hero-of-the-wolf reblogged with one I liked. Idk if the links can work like that but we'll find out

And my wisdom tooth surgery went well :D I've stayed off the internet for a bit of recovery. I'm good I'm just not doing too much interacting when I'm tired *shrug*. I was scared because my health is always so bad but it was ok. :))) I have definitely spent a lot of time reading- I knew it was a good idea to ask for sick fics for surgery week XD

So that's the lovely list of sick fics I've been reading- for when you get your wisdom teeth out. Or you're not feeling well, or you just feel like reading. Anyways.

Also my mind is still pretty tired right now but I wanted to answer this- I hope it's ok for everyone I tagged, and my phrasing and language isn't good right now, sorry. Love you guys /plat <333

[2hoothoots]

i was having a chuckle to myself last night about Gristol, and how his plans are basically:

Restore Ford Cruller's memory

Find Maligula

???

Profit

but then... of course they are, right? this is Gristol we're talking about. Fatherland Follies drives home again and again that he's still operating on a child's logic, a warped and reductive version of the world that he never bothered to grow out of. both of his memory vaults center on the images of his childhood, this idealized version of the past that he clings to no matter what. and that's still how he remembers Maligula, too - as this saviour figure, who rushes in to help him when he's in trouble.

[ID: Two slides from Gristol's memory vault, Glory to Grulovia! Left: Gristol clings to Maligula's back as she summons waves to sweep away his assailants. Right: Gristol and Maligula waving from a balcony as the people cheer. Gzar Theodore brandishes a dagger in the background.]

like so much else, Maligula represents a return to this idyllic childhood - to the peace and simplicity of his youth, when he was free from worries and responsibilities. in his mind, he doesn't need to make any further plans - once Maligula's back, everything will go back to normal. Maligula will make everything better.

...is what i thought, but then i remembered this line:

[Screenshot source. ID: Gristol, in Truman's body, bows on his hands and knees in front of the newly-awaked Maligula. The caption reads: "Yes, High Priestess! I am here to correct the mistakes made by my father!"]

and that's kind of interesting, right?

to be clear: this happens directly after Maligula sees Helmut-in-Gristol's-body, and recognises him. her line before this is:

"Little Gzesaravich! Have you come to pay for your father's sins?"

my first thought was that Gristol hadn't expected to still be in Truman's body by the time he managed to find Maligula, and this was him trying to placate her and buy some time until he could explain the situation. but watching the cutscene back, that's clearly not what's happening here. Gristol is answering as himself, and his response of throwing himself to his knees before her is, as far as i can tell, genuine.

so what is going on here?

in Fatherland Follies, there's this line in the ride narration that stuck out to me:

"Why didn't the Gzar help Maligula in her time of need? No one knows, but historians agree - it is Gzar Theodore's biggest failure."

other lines mention Gzar Theodore's "mistake", and it's wording Gristol himself echoes in the screencap above. evidently, he believes that his father abandoned Maligula, leaving her to her fate at the hands of the Psychonauts, and it was that mistake that lead to them being driven out of the country - that mistake which he seeks to correct. maybe he even feels like he has a debt to repay to her for his family turning their backs on her all those years ago.

the 'High Priestess' thing, though - that's kinda weird, and threw me for a loop the first time i played the game. it took me until my second playthrough to connect the dots, and remember how the room in the Lady Luctopus - Gristol's room - was full of Delugionist scribblings and symbols.

[Screenshot source. ID: left, the walls of the hidden backroom in Gristol's hotel suite, covered in scrawlings of eyeballs and Maligula's name. Right, the pinboard from the hidden backroom. On its surface are photographs and newspaper clippings connected by pieces of string.]

i mean, look at this stuff! he had a whole conspiracy board and everything!

we learn very little about the Delugionists and their beliefs as a whole during the game, but i think drawing the connection here suggests two important things. one: that Gristol was in deep with this stuff. i don't know how he linked up with them - maybe via old family connections, or just good old-fashioned digging (we know he's skilled at worming his way into peoples' good graces, after all) - but it seems likely that he's begun to internalise their ideas, maybe even warping his own memories of events. and two: the Delugionists themselves are, if you'll pardon the pun, pretty far off the deep end.

like... i understand why PN2 didn't go heavy on the "mass-murderer cult worship" aspect of things, in the end, but man this is such a tantalising glimpse into the wider mythos around Maligula. Gristol is proud and haughty and thinks himself above everyone else; the fact that his first reaction seeing Maligula is to throw himself to the ground at her feet says so much about the way he's come to see her. he's not just trying to bring back Maligula, his childhood bodyguard. he's trying to bring back Maligula, the High Priestess of the deluge, the semi-mythical figure whose supporters believe even death couldn't stop. he doesn't even flinch at the way she confronts him, and maybe it's because he's bought in so completely to this deified figurehead, this idea of Maligula; more a living force of nature than a person. and it all comes back to the same place: an abdication of responsibility, not just to the person who protected him when he was little but to this avatar of floods and destruction. Maligula will make everything better.

i'd write more about my thoughts on the Delugionists but that'd be taking a hard turn into speculation, and this is already kind of long and rambling so i'd better end it here. but what an unexpected and evocative line, right? it's some of the only stuff we have to go off of regarding the Delugionists as a whole, but i think it does such a good job of hinting at the wider story - at teasing another layer to the mythos surrounding Maligula, one whose ripples we see throughout the game but which never quite breaches the surface.

[octever]

Tag game idea!

Reblog with a question for mutuals and your own answer to it, and answer prev's question (and maybe the other rbs above too).

[pretend answer to some upper rb text is here]

[ex, my question:] What 4 music artists would you say are your main four? (top four or just favs)

[my answer to mine:] My fav 4 are: Oneohtrix Point Never, Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd, & Tally Hall.

tagging moots! @spottedstatic @ryusmadness @never-gonna-danse-again @autisticspirk @fucc-yeah-regretevator @randeeznuts @sukiithedummii @birdmanstein @mr-cleans-last-hair-follicle @identity-crisis-x2 @literally-a-waffle-fry @yum-zlurplie @goofy-gabba @clearance-sale

[kdval]

Alriiiight @olath124 tagged me, I gotta participate 🫡 yes, my dear, you're right, although I have a whole-ass fantasy novel about them! Or rather a shit ton of the drafts lmao (I better be writing it rn bruh)

Funnily enough, I just posted these two today, enjoy!

Rules: Share the last six lines of any of your WIPs.

"The cosmos has no top or bottom. Your perception is shackled by the circumstances of your birth. If you step outside of those bounds, this will cease to seem unusual to you."

What a convoluted way of speaking, Lara thought, naturally forgetting that Ha'al would instantly know her thoughts. "The prison of consciousness," he had said.

"And those are the circumstances of my birth," he chirped in a way that Lara interpreted as laughter. "I’m not trained to speak otherwise."

Who do I tag? @theviridianbunny Bunny Bunny I know you have something in your pocket! @medtech-mara maybe you have something too? 😏

[anachronistic-falsehood]

SO. ON THE TOPIC OF LOSS OF AUTONOMY. i am having the analysis brainworms now i hope u dont mind me going off in ur inbox. hi :]

there is something to be said about how vash's name is used against him constantly. that loss of who he even is as a person. i think about this so much. his name, his very identity is taken away from him. just the mere mention of the name vash the stampede is enough to send an ENTIRE town into a panic. it happens so much and its DEVASTATING to me. hes been labelled a monster across the entire world, and people who stick by his side after hearing his name are few and far between. theres been so much fear tacked onto his name, so much so that OTHER outlaws have used it on multiple occasions to make themselves more powerful. using his name to commit crimes that the real vash would be horrified to even consider. power in names and all that.

vash even. leans into it himself at a certain point. in order to protect the people of augusta he runs through the city shooting bullets into the air and solidifying his image of a deranged killer in the pursuit of. saving everyone. the only way theyll listen to him is if they think hes going to kill them all. if theyre afraid of him. theres also the part in hang fire (? i think its that one) where hes walking through the halls of the sand steamer singing about killing people in order to scare the bandits into not hurting the hostages.

and then you think about. eriks. how lina and her grandma took him in and accepted them as part of his family. how the town around them accepted him only because they had no idea who he actually was. he was a good guy... up until they learned he was vash. and then we get the conversation between the two men in the bar talking about how they should chase him out of town, despite living around him and knowinf him and seeing how good he is for . two years.

but lina and her grandma still accept him after that. theyre one of the only people besides milly/meryl/wolfwood who genuinely love and care abt him despite his name. they still want to keep him safe, grandma asks wolfwood to protect him and keep him out of trouble, even after learning hes the legendary outlaw gunman. because shes seen the true vash ans doesnt let the name scare her.

aughhh im rambling now i probably should have made this into my own post but this makes me SO fuckign crazy dude . give me ur thoughts id love to hear them.

I. YEAH. YEAH. OH MY GOD. Like. nothing is his own anymore. His name is used against him, his face is plastered on wanted posters. There is nothing about himself that he can truly call his. Not even his Plant powers! Because those are used against him time and time again by Knives in EVERY ADAPTATION!!!!

Like. Vash is no longer the name of a kid who once argued with his brother and laughed with his mother and celebrated his birthday and rolled around in grassy fields. It's the name of an outlaw who will kill at the drop of a hat. It's the name of an out-of-control human natural disaster who's leveled cities. If he doesn't even have his name, then what part of himself is really himself anymore?

AND THAT'S WHY I LOVE ERIKS! He finally has something of his own! He's got a name that attached to no one, and a life where he can settle down and stay out of the public eye. He finally has something that is truly his. And no one lets him keep that except for Lina and her grandma.

This guy really has no control over his own life doesn't he!!! He's a passive character in the story of his own life!!! He has nothing of his own, no identity past "humanoid typhoon" because everything about his identity has been stripped from him and morphed into something he's not. He has no say in anything in his life, not even who he is as a person, AND IT DRIVES ME BONKERS N FUCKING YONKERS!!!!

[ren-144p]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

tough one! i don't even write that much so it feels like plugging every piece of mine 😅 soo i'm gonna treat the luis study shorts as separate works. just for this.

first mass (Resident Evil)

words: 243 | G | part of larger project | Tumblr — the first part of my catholic Luis Serra backstory take, dealing with Luis' oldest impression of the village church.

the princess, the dog (Resident Evil)

words: 220 | G | part of a larger project | Tumblr — third bit of my Luis pet project, somewhat about a dog from his childhood, with a vaguely haunting ending.

boys with cigarettes (Resident Evil)

words: 235 | T | part of a larger project | Tumblr — another loose fragment of the Luis Serra backstory fic, focused on Luis' first roommate and his first cigarette.

��Sancho” (Resident Evil)

words: 400 | T | part of a larger project | Tumblr — a small abstract snippet from my Madrid, 1996 (wip); about Luis, Carlos, and unconventional marriages.

Handprints (Arcane)

words: 797 | T | one-shot | AO3 — saved something a little older for last; just a few words about Silco with neck tattoos.

[lovers-instead]

Sapphic YA Book Rec: Good Moon Rising by Nancy Garden

1996 follow-up to Annie on My Mind, this time featuring 2 girls who compete for the lead role in their high school theater department.

Links to download:

Internet Archive (to borrow)

Anna's Archive

Singlelogin.re

LibGen

[captainderyn]

Dear mentor my cp2077 cravings are way beyond my compression and I need v being completely Injured/hurt and relying on judy / or judy humming pyramid song to v till she sleeps

Or if you wish for oc content it would be

> magic studying together or symbolism with flowers :D

_ no forcing here o7 If you don't wanna write em you can do as you wish

> GLITTER ANON

Glitter Anon!! You bring me so much joy every time you appear in my inbox <3 Always happy to provide some angsty V with Judy saving the day. Hope you enjoy!

TW for canon typical injury and canon typical swearing

--

Dakota had been out of her goddamn mind sending V that gig and listing it as solo. Or maybe she'd misplaced her confidence in V as a merc, and V was just losing her edge.

Not that it mattered now, the data was sent to Dakota and the eddies were transferring into her account as far as V could tell from the static spiking across her vision and each beat of her heart sending shooting pain into her head.

Stupid netrunners with their stupid hidey-holes that were better than her netrunner hidey-holes. Despite throwing every hack she knew, straining her cyberdeck to the max while she dealt with the swarm of Raffen that had poured from the dark crevices of the 'abandoned' building like ants, she still hadn't managed to drop the 'runner before being hit by two or three hacks powerful enough to down a cyberpsycho.

Johnny's voice was ragged and tinny, like he was coming from a transmission with bad connection, as he pulled himself from whatever recess of his mind he hung out in.

"V, pull over."

She grunted as she hit another pothole, pain shooting through her entire body. It radiated enough that she couldn't even pinpoint where it was coming from anymore. She pulled one hand to clutch at her side as a jolt went through her.

"Gotta get back to Night City." She insisted.

Her emergency bag with stims was drained dry, her mind swimming from what was probably a higher than recommended dose of MaxDocs.

The gig had been too far to make it to the Aldacados' camp without needing to stop at one of the dodgy, gang ridden gas stations on the way. Too far out in the middle of nowhere to make it to Dakota's shop but just too shy of the borders of the city to make it easy for her.

Only option was the push through til she made it home and patched herself up. Anything else was too risky. Who knew who would sell her their help just to turn around and screw her over.

"V just pull over for a sec!" Johnny pushed again and she was about to snap at him again, turning her head like he'd be riding on a motorcycle alongside her, when she hit another bump.

Whatever injuries were hiding beneath raged in unison and her vision went dark around the edges, her body rebelling against consciousness and desperately trying to give into the innate urge to curl around itself.

Her already tenuous grip on her bike's handlebars faltered and within seconds the pavement was becoming acquainted with her body as she hit it hard, skidding to a stop as her bike charged into the barely-standing bus stop shelter at the edge of road.

V choked out a cough, spitting out red-tinged spit as she waited for the world to stop spinning and shaking.

"Get outta the road." Johnny snapped, scuffed black leather of his shoes stomping in front of her face as he materialized into a crouch, glaring at her from behind his aviators. "Gonna get turned to roadkill."

Pulling each breath in felt like hauling sandpaper down her throat into her lungs as V tried to catch the air that had been knocked out of her lungs. But she rolled over onto her side, then pushed herself into a seated position.

That alone felt like an accomplishment, especially with Johnny's nagging kick at the bottom of her boots until she'd shimmied all the way off the road. When her ass hit gravel she stopped, wrapping her arms around her knees and glaring at Johnny as heat that she really hoped was sweat slid down her face.

"Christ on a stick, you're pitiful." Johnny drawled, standing at her feet with his arms crossed over his chest, "Call your slam piece to come haul your sorry ass of the side of the road."

V scowled, fixing her eyes on her bike, smoking alongside the twisted metal that had been the rusted shelter. She hadn't been going that fast...had she? Everything was blurry.

"Even if you got that bike started, you won't make it a hundred feet." Johnny intercepted her plan, snapping his fingers. "What is her name, the one you make the hopeless puppy eyes at? I'm sure she'd take you in like the lost stray you are."

Feeling her glare on him, he tilted his aviators down to meet her look with raised brows. "You do it or I do it. I'm not dying again because the bitch-ass merc that I was unlucky enough to get stuck with let Raffen and pride kill her out in the Badlands."

Without breaking her glaring eye contact, V rang Judy. As the comm-line rang she stuck her tongue out at Johnny. He rolled his eyes and flipped her off. He flickered out of existence in front of her, just to re materialize leaning against the guardrail next to her.

"Someone has to look out for you." He groused. "You sure as shit won't."

Judy picked up on the third ring, her visual popping up in the corner of V's UI. Or what she could make out of it from the way her UI was glitching out.

"Hey V I was just thinking 'bout..." Judy's voice faltered, "V? The hell are you, what happened?"

V picked at the gravel in her palms, jammed between her skin and implants, wincing.

"Shit went sideways, wrecked my bike." She muttered, lifting her eyes to Johnny who gave an exaggerated 'yes and' gesture. She lowered her brows and he proceeded to make an even more exaggerated gesture.

He was impossible.

She cleared her throat, mouth like cotton, "Can you uh...actually, nevermind."

"Uh-huh, nevermind, what's your location I'm already on my way." There was a jangling like car keys.

But it was getting dark, and who knew what started to crawl around these parts when it was dark. She'd gotten herself into this mess and she could get herself out of it.

A force like a booted foot slammed into her side and V buckled, the sound that slipped from her choking out between a shriek and a sob. She heard Judy trying to ask her what was wrong, but her ears were ringing and the words were stuck in her mouth.

"Rancho Coronado, exit to the Badlands." Johnny supplied to V, standing over her with his arms crossed. Arrogant bastard. "Still think you can drag yourself back to H10?"

"Hnng, fuck, Rancho Coronado, by the old bus stop in the canyon." V choked out.

The minutes dragged as V hunched over herself, the world fading in and out around her. She was aware of Judy staying on the line with her, catching very little of the intense volley of what she could only imagine were heated curse words and the road noise of the van.

Then there it was, Judy's beat up blue van bouncing up the road in a cloud of dust. It groaned in protest as Judy threw it into park and was out before it had rocked backwards to a stop.

"V?" Judy's hands were blissfully warm against the chill that the temperate drop had leeched into V's skin. Judy tilted V's chin up and she forced her eyes open, "You still with me?"

God, she'd never been so happy to see someone, even if the thought of dragging Judy into her shit made her want to scream.

"Still here." V confirmed with a groan, a shudder wracking her, "Unfortunately."

Judy brushed her thumbs across V's cheekbones, lips pursing together, before she moved to slip an arm under V's arms.

"Let's get you to the van."

Moving felt like a monumental task, far too much of an undertaking. But if she didn't even try, then Judy would have to bear the brunt of her cyberware-heightened weight. And she'd already made Judy haul her dead weight from beneath the waters of the dam.

So V forced her legs beneath her and helped to stand with Judy's help, letting out a breath in a hoarse wheeze. Whatever edge the MaxDocs had taken off was wearing away, leaving sharp, ragged edges of pain spiking from various places on her body to mix with the general ache that was her existence right now.

Slopping into the passenger seat of Judy's car was a mercy on her body and she slouched, leaning her head back against the headrest with a whimper.

God, she was so tired of hurting. Hurting today, hurting whenever the Relic flared; her world had been one whole incessant hurt since taking that stupid heist with Jackie.

Then Judy was in the drivers seat, the van rumbling to life beneath them, and her hand was a gentle press on V's thigh.

"Do you need me to find a ripper?" And there was such matter-of-fact concern in Judy's voice, such a simplicity in the question, that V had to squeeze her eyes closed against the burn of tears and shake her head to work around the lump in her throat.

When was the last time she'd had someone care, somewhere there to haul her ass off the floor when shit hit the fan?

"Don't need a ripper." V rasped, "Nothing that can't be patched up at home."

Maybe she should get her cyberdeck checked out after the other netrunners' hits, but the static was starting to fade from her head to be replaced by bone deep exhaustion and hurt. If more issues popped up, she'd go bother Vik tomorrow.

If only to avoid landing on his doorstep in a pitiful state.

Again.

Judy put the van in drive, doing her best to avoid the potholes, her hand staying on V's leg. It was nice, comforting.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had that either.

V leaned her head back against the headrest, eyes drifting closed, and let the ride pass by in a blur.

--

By the time V made it up the stairs to Judy's apartment, even with her help, she was spent. The floor looked like a fantastic space to just let herself collapse and sleep off all of today.

But that would mean bleeding all over Judy's floor and Judy's grip on her was unwavering.

Instead she found herself in the dim light of the bathroom, gingerly peeling herself out of her clothes. Her jacket and pants rained gravel down in a pitter-patter on the tile and her tank top clung to her skin with a sticky solution of blood and wound.

Judy helped her peel that off too, giving a soft curse at the angry welts and road rash across her torso, back, and sides.

"At least you were wearing leather." Judy said with a shake of her head, "Otherwise I'd be scraping you off the road back there."

There was enough admonishment in her tone that V snorted out a laugh, then winced as her body punished her for it. Already a massive bruise mottled her skin from hip up her rib cage from where one of the netrunner's attacks had hit her hard enough that she fell from what she'd thought had been a hidden vantage point.

Which had led to her fighting her way out of the swarm.

She explained it all the Judy to fill the silence aside from the hiss of the shower, to keep herself from cussing and wincing as between the two of them they cleaned the gravel and blood from her skin.

V let herself drift in the feeling of safety, let herself disengage from the high alert she always seemed to be on. Judy's hands were gentle as she helped V smear a sharp-scented ointment on her road burn and bruises and helped wrap gauze around the worst of it.

Sitting on Judy's couch in a t-shirt two sizes too small and sweatpants that were a couple inches too short, V let her head drop down onto Judy's shoulder. Judy carded her fingers through V's hair without enough tenderness that V could've cried.

"Thank you for saving my ass back there." she murmured, the emotion she'd walled back seeping through a crack in her voice.

Judy leaned back on the couch, tugging V with her so that she was laying half on top of Judy. V relaxed into it, angling herself so that she wasn't laying on her worst side, and nestled her head into the crook between Judy's neck and shoulder.

This was far better than crawling back to her own apartment, nursing her wounds alone, and passing out in the bed cubby with the help of whatever would numb the pain enough to help her sleep. Judy's hand continuing to card through her hair was like a siren's song for sleep.

"I'm always going to come get you mi calabacita." Judy whispered against her hair, "You're not facing Night City on your own anymore."

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

It's funny when someone responds to you claiming you're just repeating their point, meanwhile they missed the part where I talked about them failing to grasp that being upset about the Nazi association to Amestris while saying all fascism is bad and that the Nazi association means people have "misunderstood" the moral of fma and thus "proves Arakawa's" point is attributing ignorance to the critics while falsely claiming Arakawa's work as consistently anti-military (it absolutely isn't).

But I shouldn't be surprised.

[khaopybara]

hello! i love your gifs T_T i'm unsure if this is allowed but can i request gifs or lune and star from summer night series? i love your coloring so much

hey, thank you so much anon 🥲 everyone is allowed to request gifs to me whenever they like (for shows that i'm watching that is, because you know, it's easier to navigate like that), so if you want to have anything giffed, let me know. it might take a little, depending, but i eventually get there.

your gifset was posted, and i hope you like it.

[kameonerd566]

.