#i just. also feel super super super comfy with they

[writing-whump]

Super sick

Dylan's high fever part 2. Dylan can't keep anything down, forcing Rip to some drastic measures. Emeto warning.

"-I have given him paralen and brufen and everything...no he won't keep it down, it has not effect-...then what am I supposed to do?"

Rip rubbed at his face. It was close to midnight and his eyes hurt. Which was ridiculous cause he didn't get tired. He blamed it more on the stress, the anxious squeezy feeling around his chest that got its hold on him since Dylan became all incoherent.

A quiet moan from Dylan's room got him quickly hanging up and hurrying back.

Dylan kicked the covers off himself, sweating through another shirt and was currently shivering. His eyes were open to slits and his hand was reaching out blindly. For him.

Rip sat up on the edge of the bed and took it. "Hey, hey, man, it's okay. I'm here."

"...where did you go?"

"I was calling your sister for the umpteenth time. No updates."

Dylan scrunched his face like the information was very complicated to understand. "Are they home yet?"

Rip sighed. He had been explaining it for the third time this night at the least. "The trains aren’t working, so they are stuck in Salzburg until the morning. It's just the two of us, buddy."

Dylan didn't seem alarmed, closing his eyes again. His grip on Rip tightened for a second which had his heart clenching again. It was way too weak of a grip to even call it that.

"How did I get into a bed?"

"You threw up all over the blankets, remember?"

Dylan shook his head, a tiny distressed noise making its way out through his clenched teeth.

"Shhhhh. It's alright. It's more comfy here, isn't it?" Rip held his feverish warm hand in both of his.

Keep him comfortable was the main advice he got. Cool Dylan down, keep him comfortable. Try to get him to drink the fever reducers and hope they stay down.

But Dylan wasn't keeping anything down and he seemed to deteriorate in front of Rip's fucking eyes. What kind of crazy flu was this? The fever hit so quickly and was so intense, not wanting to back down.

The hives were still present, but Dylan was too out of it to scratch at them. Or maybe they didn't itch, what did Rip know?

He reached for the cold wet towel on Dylan's forehead, adjusting it. There were small ones around his ankles and wrists and because he kept squirming, Rip had to adjust them a lot.

It was also challenging for organisation to replace them, since Dylan got all worked up whenever he couldn't feel Rip by his side. Contact in any way calmed him down.

Dylan's muffled moan interrupted his thoughts. He curled up on his side, around his stomach, one arm wrapped around his middle and tightening.

Rip shuffled closer to lean against the headboard and Dylan immediately rolled to him to press his face against Rip's tigh. There was a loud audible swallow.

Rip brushed Dylan's hair back, adjusting the towel to the side of his face. "Nausous?"

"Hurts," Dylan said, face turned into the fabric of Rip's sweatpants. He grabbed at the leg next, riding out a wave of cramps with a groan before relaxing slightly.

"We could try the pain meds again-"

Dylan shook his head immediately. "Won't stay down. Can I just sleep?"

"You can sleep, it's alright." Not that it was working, Dylan was too restless and kept tossing, woken up by his stomach.

Another 20 minutes later and Dylan still wasn't asleep. This was proper torture, Rip realized. Not letting him sleep and burning up like this.

"Come on, let's try the meds again," Rip said when he couldn't stand it anymore, sliding his hands under Dylan's back to prop him up against his chest.

He grabbed the glass with water and the pill on the nightstand. "Just one little sip, D."

Dylan didn't bother opening his eyes, eyebwords furrowed as he leaned so much as possible away from Rip's hand. "Don't wanna..."

"You have to. Please, D."

Dylan grimaced, like that wasn't a word he could stand to reject, cracking one eye open. He nodded and Rip quickly pressed the pill between his lips, following up with the glass.

Dylan took a small sip, tensing up, his fist curling into Rip's shirt.

"Try to keep it down for me," Rip pleaded, putting the glass away.

Dylan gave him a tight nod, but his face was clouded over with queasiness.

Rip held him upright, arms around his torso, careful not to put too much pressure. Because of the closeness, Rip could practically feel every reaction and move Dylan's body made.

The sick boy's breathing picked up, chest rising and falling rapidly. He pressed the side of his face into Rip's chest, lips in a tight line. His fist was still scrunching up Rip's shirt like he wanted to tear it to pieces.

And then the fight was lost. The gags came, tiny at first, just shakes of his body that grew in intensity. His chest was heaving soon after, with strength and urgency Dylan currently didn't possess consciously.

Total autopilot.

Rip reached for the trashcan on the floor, holding it under Dylan's chin just in time for the sip of water and the pill to fall out. The heaves were way too strong for that small amount and Dylan kept gagging for 2 minutes straight in empty.

Shaking from extertion, he fell back against Rip who thought his heart would soon burst out of his chest with anxiety.

As the night ticked by, Rip figured out another distracting technique. Stroking little circles on top of Dylan's forehead with his forefinger.

It gave Dylan something to focus on, it seemed, cause the little groans sounded more pleased than distressed, his face turning towards Rip as if to follow the movement.

Rip drew the little patterns around Dylan's eyebrows, his cheekbones, then followed into his hair, leaving trails inside the sweat.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this helpless.

...

Around 5 a.m. Rip couldn't bear it anymore. He kept imagining the road to the pharmacy, visualising it in head in detail. Staring at in in Google maps meant he knew exactly where it was and he came up with several ways on top of the buildings to get there.

Minimising any contact. It would be early in the morning, there wouldn't be a crowd and he could climb up the balconies and take the roofs just fine.

There was just the direct contact with the pharmacist to worry about.

But Isaiah said his shadow was in synch with him. And this was something Rip cared about so how could his soul, his heart and his essence stand in his way?

That boy was his whole fucking world now.

He waited till Dylan fell into a less than peaceful slumber, easing him down on the pillows and sneaking out from his hold. Took money and a bag on his back and opted for the window for the better ledge.

The whole mission couldn't take more than 30 minutes. It was shameful to death he had to gather his courage for the whole night to do it.

Climbing wasn't a problem. Vienna houses were so intensely decorated, there was always something to hold on to and once he reached the top, he could run almost the rest of the way.

It wasn't dark anymore, more of a morning grayness with first pink on the horizon.

Rip reached the pharmacy from the rooftop and scanned the street for people. It was sleepy and empty only one runner jogging nearby.

Rip waited for him to pass before climbing down. Normally, he would jump with the help of his shadow to soften his landing, but he didn't dare reaching for it.

All he could focus on was keeping it shut, tight, away. Suppressed as much as he could.

He stopped in front of the door. Held the handle emerassingly long time. What if this was the end? What if he hurt or killed that woman inside and ruined everything for this pack, for the Executioner?

What if Isaiah was wrong to believe in him? What if Rip was simply not someone who could be saved?

What if he was but this was pushing it? Was it too soon to try to talk to a human?

Worse even, what if Dylan had been wrong about Rip all along?

And maybe all of it wouldn't matter if Rip couldn't make himself get him some fucking medicine before his brain fried.

One more breath. Rip looked down and went inside.

...

Rip couldn't remember the way back. Or the talk itself. It was as if all sound was muffled, as if the world turned black-and-white. Colourless.

But he got back, climbed into the window in the living room. He had a bag filled with anti-nausea meds and fever reducers and aloe vera cream for the hives.

He managed to have a freaking conversation with the elderly lady behind the counter. Who had nothing but sympathetic smiles for him, like he was taking care of his brother for the first time.

Rip shut the window behind him. Sound was coming back to him and it was ringing in his ears. His shadow was a string held back too tightly, cutting blood into the palm around it.

He should hurry.

Shooting for the living room, he pushed the flat thin pill into his mouth. "Don't swallow. Let it dissolve. There you go. Hold it for half an hour and we can try the fever meds again."

Dylan's eyes were shut but he complied. Rip got him new towels for his forehead, neck and ankles.

He got it. Dylan would get better now. They were safe.

The ringing turned to shrieking in his ears. Rip dashed to the bathroom, closing the door. His shadow spilled out, covering the floor and the walls.

Rip pressed his palms against his cheeks. "What?! Happy now? What was so damn hard about it?"

He couldn't say. It was like he was outside of his body when he talked with the lady. The sound of his voice, the sound of her voice, it was lost on him. His vision was blurry. But somehow they communicated long enough to get what was needed.

His stomach turned fiercely and Rip fell down to his knees, heaving over the toilet.

His skin was itching. His thoughts were buzzing wasps in his head and there were snakes inside him, slithering out.

He gagged and heaved, not fighting the onslaught of what he couldn't even name. A wave of snakes got its way out, stinging his throat on the way.

...

Rip woke up to a warm hand on his forehead.

"Don't tell me you caught it so quickly?" Dylan croaked, voice shot from vomiting.

Rip opened an eye. He was lying on the rag in the bathroom, fingers clawed into it. His insides were shaking and he still felt nausous and pained and burned, but also weirdly empty.

"You-" he gagged, but swallowed it down. "You shouldn't be up yet."

"Finally not nausous. I took some paralen an hour ago," Dylan said with a relieved sigh. His cheeks were hallow and still pale, but he looked a lot more like himself already. "What's wrong with you?"

Rip squeezed his eyes shut. "...went to the pharmacy to get you the anti-nausea meds."

He didn't see Dylan's face, but the shocked gasp was enough. Then came the hand, too warm, palming his cheek. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have-"

Rip grabbed onto Dylan's hand on his face. "Don't- don't fucking say it. I am the one who's sorry. The whole night you had to- cause I-" Another gag, more forceful this time.

Rip forced himself up on one arm to burp over the porcelain rim, shaking all over.

Dylan rubbed the center of his back, tilting to the side woozily. "Shhhhh. It's okay." He propped his chin on Rip's shoulder, eyes closed. "We are okay now."

[twinkinspector]

. don't look at me

[soosoosoup]

sunset serenade

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari.......... will u mutual bingo meeeee?

NIKU ……. say less >:3 here is your bingo hehe pls have a seat n sip on some coffee ☕️ made it extra bitter so **** won’t come and steal it from u….

[sunnibits]

still thinking about the baby cows…. guys did you know that cows can get the zoomies. and sometimes wag their tails when they’re happy. and even excitedly jump up on you like doggies when they’re small. personally I knew most of this already before meeting the babies but I have never seen it in person and ohhhh my goddddd it was so cute. they’re so fucking cute. she nibbled and licked me and head-butted my chin and ran around in circles and wagged her tail because she was such a happy girl. fuck anyone who says cows are boring or ugly they have so much personality and most importantly are SOOOOO FUCKING CUTEEE

[mizumuu]

>Laughs Out Loud

I thought that piece was just about people focusing too hard on labelling Mizuki instead of letting them be themselves like they ask, not that it was transphobia ._ .

its ok to have ur own interpretation of that piece but its very clear to me that that wasnt ame's intention

[rawliverandgoronspice]

The Hero of Time returns home.

(sort of)

[scootatwoni]

Just got back from the porter concert

Year of the cup, the entire nurture segment and goodbye to a world fucked me UP REAL GOOD 👍

Ty porter for such an amazing night and sorry not sorry we sang for so long u had to tell us to stfu so you could start the next song <3

[lolikirlia]

tbh ppl are kindof mean

[vaporvipermedia]

Red & Blue

Finally decided to post these two I made these a few months ago (or weeks…idk me and time don’t work well together)

Ida Yoshihiko

A passionate journalist and mother, who has been researching the recent disappearances going around in the city they live in as well as all across

the world.

Since her husband Yoshinori was currently on this case Ida was extremely engrossed in this case to find some lead to who or what could be kidnapping

the young victims. Soon, she found out that victims would mention to friends and families that they were starting to have dreams of a black horse carriage and a magic mirror beckoning them to come to another world.

After finding this strange, Ida recently has been starting to receive the same dreams. She initially chalked it up to staying up late reading recent interview articles about the case, and she went about her business. That day, Ida kissed her kid goodnight and smooched her tired husband on the cheek as he slept on his work desk after a long investigation. Little did Ida realize that this would be her last day seeing her family.

When she woke up, the only thing she saw was a pair of deep green eyes staring right back at her surrounded by darkness. Wondering if this was the last time she’ll ever see her family again.

Yoshinori Yoshihiko

A straight faced detective who is not only trying to solve the disappearance of his but also the recent disappearances in his city.

Yoshinori has become increasingly stressed as the disappearances have increased, and he has seen less and less of his family. When he does have time to return home, he tries to hide his tired expressions and greets his family with half-smiles and food from their favorite fast food joint. Of course his family can see right through Yoshinori and try to make his nights less daunting by having movie or game nights.

When more pressure was being put on him and his agency, Yoshinori rejected the offer. Saying that the case was driving him up the wall but promised that they would all have a nice outing with each other one day. The one time he put down a family night became the last time he ever talked to his wife Ida.

No sign of a break in and nonexistent signs of struggle, as if Ida Yoshihiko disappeared into thin air. Yoshinori, being perplexed as to how she even left, started to slowly spiral into a depression and became protective of his only child Kei. Even looking at his wife’s rough draft paper wasn’t evidence enough. A talking mirror and black horse carriage? He might as well get laughed at by his whole entire agency. No one would take Ida seriously and chalk her up to some looney who ran away from home.

When Kei told him to at least consider the rough drafts he was shut down by a struggling Yoshinori. "Stop putting your nose into this case!" I accidentally said to Kei. He tried to explain to her that what he said wasn't what he meant. But it was too late; Kei dashed up to her room and locked the door behind her, clutching her mother's rough draughts. Despite Kei's silence, Yoshinori made sure to apologize fully at her closed door. Leaving when he felt like he said enough.

In the morning, he found his only kid gone from him. After the police concluded their investigation in his now empty house, he sat on his couch dazed. His Lieutenant told him to step down from the case so he can half time to calm himself down, his kid and wife are now gone and the only thing left of them are their rooms and the goddamn rough draft papers.

Yoshinori still works from home to find his family and the missing victims, despite the fact that his mental health is deteriorating by the minute.

Reblogs really help me and my work out!🥰

[ghosttotheparty]

didn’t realise there was actual discourse ab steve being masc or fem and now im annoyed so rant in the tags ig

[rosicheeks]

Helpppppp

[halfdeadwallfly]

me every other day almost accidentally posting my real name on this site because for some reason i keep forgetting that y'all don't know me irl and this is supposed to be a sort of anonymous blog

[balladetto]

general summary for link's botw verse just until i get the actual post up! accidental time travel shenanigans wherein he gets dropped in botw's temple of time a little after wild/prime link leaves the great plateau. has no idea what's going on other than this must be hyrule? but different. and everything's wrecked to shit and it does make him fearful of what might've happened here — of why he got dumped here in the first place.

then he sees what must be hyrule castle in the distance, old and crumbling?? and absolutely not how he left it or how he would've wanted to leave it, and the horror really hits him. what happened here?? he's saved hyrule once, is this— another hero's journey? another crisis he has to fix? ( was he too late? did he not get here fast enough, is that why everything's like this? is it his fault again? )

begins travelling to hyrule castle because surely, zelda or someone zelda-adjacent would be there, but his priorities slowly shift to finding and getting the master sword as he tries communicating with the locals and gathering information. it's hard at first when he can barely understand the hylian spoken in this era, but he's a fast learner! and sometimes it's not the people that tell you the most important things. all the ruins and devastated landscapes and monsters say a lot, and when he hears the watered-down, half-understood story of what happened at hyrule castle — the calamity — from a stablehand, he's convinced he needs to take up that mantle again, to "fulfill his destiny" once more.

so off he goes! tired, alone, guilty, but resolved. wandering in search of the sword he needs to do his duty; a duty he's always had and will always have, it looks like. he helps folks out where he can along the way, slowly getting accustomed to this new hyrule — hearing gossip and being gossiped about in turn.

( he's got no clue that there's already a link going around doing his self-appointed job aldfkjsg at least not until he goes to kakariko village or past the lost woods to korok forest? kakariko would be a more likely option. then he adds find this link(?) to his to-do list because he's gotta help out, chosen hero of this time or not! )

[inkmaze]

this might be niche as hell but some nb transmascs 🤝 some butches ?

[waltzofphoenix]

SEXUALITY + GENDER

primary muses // secondary muses

◇°˖ — ZHONGLI is asexual and demi-panromantic, which is to say: he's not repulsed by sex, but feels no desire to engage in it of his own volition. If he had a partner that did desire such things, he wouldn't be opposed! However, romance is also not a high priority for him at this point in time, so he's not seeking a partner.

Gender is a slightly more complex subject for him, since archons can take on any form they desire... but Zhongli currently considers himself 'male' and constructed this human form to match.

✤˖° — ALBEDO is demi in every way, as he feels pretty detached from physicality and romance. He enjoys the idea of it all and would not mind experimenting a bit if an opportunity presented itself, but... it's not something he's actively seeking out.

Also, while I do say 'experimenting' here don't be fooled: Albedo is an artist, and has very romantic ideals regarding this topic!

𓂁𓂄 — CYNO is bisexual. He doesn't really draw attention to the fact aside from the occasional terrible pun. And while he's not on the ace spectrum... he's devoted to his work right now, which has not left him with much time to pursue other things even if he'd like to.

❍°˖ — AYATO is predominantly homosexual. He doesn't have the time to pursue an idle 'romance' even though he would like to, and the only reason he's not married yet is because there were NO viable candidates for him to seek an engagement with in Inazuma.

(Perhaps this is one of many reasons he's become so interested in improving foreign relations...?)

○࿐ — VENTI is asexual and demi-panromantic, like Zhongli (and for similar reasons!) He is also not actively seeking a romantic partner, and prefers to play match-maker for others.

He uses male pronouns to honor the Nameless Bard his current form imitates, but is actually agender himself and doesn't really care what people see him as.