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#but im coping with humor

nouverx · 1 year

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Vash and Wolfwood as Katya and Trixie because I think they deserve to have some fun after the emotional disaster that was episode 11

The amount of time I spent on this is kind of embarassing

#trigun stampede #trigun #vash the stampede #trigun wolfwood #vashwood #trigun meme #animatic #I'm coping with humor that last episode was painful ok #also I think Vash and Wolfwood arent besties enough in TriStamp #Im bestifying them #trigun fanart

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karkatbug · 13 days

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For the final day: hsday/birthday party @413countdown

HAPPY HOMESTUCK DAY!

And happy birthday, John! The older you get, the less you want to celebrate, but that's why your friends are here ♥

4/13/2023 || 4/13/2024

#it's always sad thinking back #reflecting on what you couldn't have or the things you lost along the way #buts its okay john #youre not alone :)#homestuck #homestuck413 #john egbert #dave strider #rose lalonde #jade harley #hsfanart #my art #also im a big fan of the hc that they use humor as a coping mechanism instead of going to therapy LOL #but anyways hbd john ily

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shatterdome-underscore · 10 months

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Trigun 98 but Vash and Knives act 10% more like brothers like Vash screams "You're not even human" at Knives after the Big Fall and Knives just goes "Neither are you, dipshit!" Or Knives doing his "my leg it hurts" monologue and Vash just imitates it in a whiny voice

#trigun #trigun 98 #vash the stampede #knives trigun #millions knives #im in the last few episodes so things are gonna start getting very sad and ive decided to cope w humor

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drabbles-of-writing · 1 year

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Considering Hunter probably took a pretty long while before he ever carved Waffles, there stands reason to believe that he and Luz just like. Shared custody of Stringbean. Realistically he probably shared palismen with all of his friends but Luz has little sister rights and therefore they can and would battle over her like an xbox. Every single time Hunter has flyer derby going on he snatches up Stringbean because Camila said it was his turn. This is a near-daily struggle.

Occasionally Stringbean will actively choose who she gets to hang out with that day. Neither Hunter nor Luz argue when she does this because Word Of Stringbean™ is law above all else and the winner is very smug about it.

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shit-sorry-fuck-mybad · 9 months

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Give me widower Mav who has come to terms with his husband’s death and now gets to make jokes and comments about it which makes people uncomfortable while he finds it hilarious pls

As someone who lost their father a long time ago I have reached that point where I can make jokes and comments and like to my close friends it’s funny but to someone I don’t know it’s… strange cause they don’t know how to react and it’s truly a small moment of absolute joy cause they make it weirder than it needs to be

Here is what I mean:

Fanboy: Hi Mav! I like your hoodie!

Mav: thanks, it belonged to my dead husband

Fanboy:

Mav: he’s not gonna use it so

…

Hangman, pointing at the ring on Mav’s dog tags: you’re married?

Mav: I was, but sadly he died on a terrible accident

Hangman: oh I’m sorry—

Mav: I’m kidding, he didn’t die on an accident

Hangman: oh thank god I thought I—

Mav: he died of cancer

…

Mav: my husband used to hate this movie

Phoenix: what made him change his mind?

Mav: oh he didn’t, he just died

…

Mav: I miss my husband

Coyote: why, where is he?

Mav: I want to say heaven but he was a weird man so honestly I don’t know

…

Cyclone: Maverick where is the paperwork I asked for

Mav: oh I’m sorry? I was mourning the death of my husband, in case you hadn’t noticed, the audacity, I cannot believe you would come for a widower like this—

#im sorry Ice but that bite was a one way ticket to hell #cheer up tho your little freak husband will join you soon #top gun #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #dead loved one that gives you trauma but also the ability to make jokes about it and be that weird person of the group #thanks dad #for the humor as a coping mechanism not the trauma #Mav and the hoodie is me with any of my dads stuff #literally I kept his shirts and watched cause they were pretty but when people ask me I gotta explain

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weirdwonderfulworld · 3 days

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i keep saying "one last thought" BUT I KEEP HAVING MORE and i type this one out as i am in literal tears ajshshsh.

i am not going to speak for steven bc he is a grown man with his own feelings and i have no business projecting my own feelings onto him but i will say there's something i feel asian americans are really good at doing and that's holding space for others. as a fil-am i think asian americans are so very good at stamping down our own needs and desires when it boils down to surviving, to navigating tough decisions, to making sure our loved ones can weather bad storms. i feel it's something usually so ingrained in our cultures, especially with first and second gen immigrants. and i could spend time here making the obvious connection here to steven but i won't.

what i want to do is extend my heart out to the watcher fans of color, specifically the asian friends in our community, and i want to give you back some of the space you held onto this past weekend. i know there are people out there who long ago joined this fandom for fun, then last friday, saw the fan response and was hit with this large wave of burden. because people were mad. and then people were cruel, in a way they might not even have understood. and you wanted to say something but there was nothing to say that wouldn't invite the same cruelty onto you.

out of three people behind a business decision, i saw one man receive the most hate for it. and the hate was so disproportionate, so deep and personal, that you knew the hate was coming from somewhere else that's usually unspoken. not everyone felt it, and it's not something any one person can describe to make them feel it. but maybe you felt it.

if so, i am so sorry that you had to hold that space, hold your tongue, and absorb it all. of course all folks won't feel this strongly affected but to the folks who do, to the ones who feel like this community has permanently changed for them, to the ones who are still grieving something that was never supposed to hurt them in this way—i am with you, i believe your pain, and i'm sorry that people are still trying to blame you for your own pain. i don't even know what else to say other than i love and support you. you're part of what made the original community so fun, inclusive, and welcoming. i hope you know that you're still so valued as a part of this community—maybe not the same exact one as before, but the one i want to see and create for us moving forward. some people will not hold the space for us, and to that, i say good riddance. together we can hold a kinder space large enough for us all... ❣❣

#watcher #thoughts #discourse #?not quite #so interesting how fandom discourse and backlash can be literally triggering but if you express that then you like. hate poor people sjsjsj #im using humor to cope but genuinely i am sending my love to you all!#im actually ready to move on now hoo boy

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distant-velleity · 4 months

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Stay With Me

Summary: Santiago and Chrysos have a lot of feelings to work out. Spoiler alert: they still don't confess. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: major character not-actually death (this is my Boxing Day gift to you all) A/N: I wish I could've put Major Character Death as a real warning. Alas... such is life. Anyway :) I'm super done with writing this, I don't wanna keep going insane, I'm just gonna post it as is. It's actually pretty tame for angst on my part. Enjoy!! Tagging: @thehollowwriter (finn mention!!!) @kitwasnothere and @nahelenia as my top 3 murderers <3

When Santiago comes to, groggy and lightheaded, he’s greeted by the watered-down sun filtering through the seas of Octavinelle above him. Bird and sky separated only by the glass and several gallons of water, his limbs sure feeling as distant and heavy as the ocean.

Ah, he thinks, ever-intelligently. How did I end up here…?

He can’t quite remember. All of his recent memories are escaping like soap bubbles in the wind.

While he racks his brain trying to figure it out, someone approaches and kneels next to him. A single glance at the person’s blonde hair and red eyes tells Santiago all he needs to know.

“Sorry about that,” Chrysos says, monotone as always. It’s hard to tell if the merman really is sorry or not. “I usually don’t get normal customers involved when 86’ing nuisances.”

Santiago can’t help the smirk that comes to him all too easily. “Are you sure I wasn’t the nuisance?”

“Hard to say,” replies Chrysos with an amused huff. He stands back up and offers Santiago a hand, to help him stand up.

Something about it feels off—maybe because Chrysos’ gaze seems so benevolent, that he seems so unbothered about gently helping someone he’d normally be too embarrassed or proud to. Still, Santiago laughs and sits up. “Tight-lipped as always,” he comments, and reaches for Chrysos’ hand, pulling himself up to stand.

They hold hands for a moment longer than they need to. It feels, if he dares to admit it just to himself, nice—

“Hold it.”

As if he’s been burned, Santiago jumps away from Chrysos at the sound of Azul’s voice. Approaching them are the Octavinelle housewarden and his entourage of three.

Santiago notices, with a distant sense of dread, that he’s never seen Chrysos look so furious and disappointed upon seeing his upperclassmen.

“Get back, Parrotfish,” Floyd warns. “That’s not the right Lionfishie to be getting all buddy-buddy with.”

How odd. Why would Floyd, of all people, go out of his way to warn him?

Santiago glances at the Octaquartet, then at Chrysos, whose expression is steadily darkening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chrysos says coldly.

“My, my.” Jade conceals his magic pen, clasped tightly in one hand, beneath the other. “There’s no need for that frigid tone. I’m sure we’re already on the same page.”

“No?” interjects Santiago. “No, we’re not. What’s going on?”

Finn looks him dead in the eye and then cocks his head towards Chrysos.

Santiago turns back around, and everything changes.

Where Chrysos was just standing as normal, there’s suddenly inky shadows surrounding the Octavinelle freshman. His eyes flare red-and-yellow as the ink (no, blot) viciously wraps around him in strands to form a cocoon of sorts. Santiago staggers back when the cocoon contracts, a dark purple haze spreading throughout the area and blocking out the sun. The whole dorm is plunged into a deep-sea darkness.

It’s Chrysos and a towering Phantom now, him hovering a little too close to the glowing pendant around its neck for anyone’s liking.

“We’re running out of time,” Azul says grimly. “Our fight from earlier didn’t do anything—”

“I’ll help fight him if it cuts down on time,” Santiago immediately declares without missing a beat. “If it saves his life.”

“Of course you would. Well, stay sharp, then.”

And Santiago tries, of course—

—but it doesn’t stop him from misfiring at some point, trying to hit the Phantom, only for it to grab Chrysos with a sickening crunch of his ribs and hold him up in range of the destructive fire spell. Santiago can only watch as it strikes Chrysos indiscriminately.

The resulting wail of agony is bloodcurdling and unbearable, but not nearly as much as when the Phantom moves a thrashing Chrysos closer and closer to its chest, a gaping hole like a beast’s maw forming there, the pendant dangling right before it.

“Wait—”

It’s what all the teachers warn about when they discuss the occurrences of Overblots. Defeat the Phantom, and the victim will come out unscathed. Take too long to destroy it, and the Phantom will… will…

Chrysos is brought to that gap, drawn in like an object near a black hole.

Santiago can’t breathe.

He can’t bring himself to close his eyes either. Even when a sinking feeling blossoms in his stomach, gripping him with all the force of a predator’s claws.

The ‘hand’ of the Phantom squeezes, another crunch of body parts that shouldn’t be breaking—

“Don’t you dare take him—let him go—” Santiago begs, but it��s useless.

The Phantom simply. Tucks Chrysos away in itself like nothing. Ignorant to his furious, fearful screams.

The hole in its chest closes over with viscous blot.

Santiago can’t look away.

“Ah… Ahh…”

can’t

look

away—

“AAAAAHHHHH—!!!”

A guttural scream tears its way out into the open from Santiago’s raw throat, burning and hoarse and painful. Still begging for a life not his own, his eyes fly open as he sits up in a grieving frenzy. “Chrysos, please, don’t leave—!”

“I’m right here,” calls a familiar voice from beside him, miraculously free of its terrifying Overblot overlay. It’s melodious and soothing, easy on the ears, just when he thought he’d never hear it again.

“You—” Santiago’s hand shoots out without thinking, clamping down on Chrysos’ where it was gripping the edge of his blanket.

…his… blanket…?

Only then does Santiago realize, half-delirious, that he’s on a bed in the school infirmary. He’s not in Octavinelle, he’s not surrounded by torrents and mists of pure blot. The air is clear here, and the sun is shining bright and pleasant through the windows like it does through the forest canopy back home. Although his lungs still burn a little, everything’s okay.

And, looking at the boy sitting right next to him—Chrysos is okay. He’s alive.

In silent awe, Santiago squeezes the cold, ungloved hand in his a little more tightly.

He’s alive.

Chrysos bites his lower lip and pointedly avoids looking at their joined hands. “What a nightmare you were having,” he says, false indifference in his tone. “Screaming like that… You’re lucky the nurse isn’t in right now.”

Santiago blinks. “A nightmare?”

“Yes. You were trembling and crying out in your sleep. If it weren’t the first time you’d shown any signs of movement in days…” Chrysos trails off, brows pressed tightly together.

Putting aside the fact that it was all little more than a bad dream, thank the Great Seven— “What do you mean, in days?” Santiago echoes disbelievingly. “I don’t even know how I ended up here, and you’re telling me I’ve been unconscious for days? Hello? Way to hit me with the double whammy.”

It was an attempt to lighten the mood for both their sakes, but when the corners of Chrysos’ mouth twitch downwards and his lips thin in a stressed frown, Santiago immediately realizes he’s said something either really wrong or really stupid. Or both.

“You don’t remember what happened at the SDC?” asks Chrysos. “Weren’t you there? You know, for Schoenheit’s Overblot, like Yu said…”

Santiago’s eyes widen. He only slightly loosens his grip on Chrysos’ hand a second later. “Oh, you mean—”

Toxic purple mist surrounded them, reeking of a sickly sweet concoction.

More saccharine still was the smile on Vil’s face. Even as blot dripped down his snow-white face from beneath his elaborate crown, he still found it in himself to pursue being the fairest one of all.

Showing simultaneously all and nothing of his burning jealousy and bitterness.

“—yeah, I remember,” he continues, letting out a laugh with no real humor in it. “I even remember getting a faceful of poisonous mist and then passing out right after the awards ceremony ‘cause I tried to act tough.”

“At least your brain wasn’t permanently damaged. That’s good,” remarks Chrysos with a half-hearted smirk. “Maybe you’ll be out of here sooner than I thought.”

No, there was definitely a screw knocked loose if Santiago was imagining Chrysos Overblotting in place of Vil… much less sobbing desperately at the possibility of his death…

…Santiago swallows, mouth suddenly dry for no good reason. “Uh-huh? I don’t know, I still feel a little off.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chrysos suddenly leans forward, hand subconsciously moving at lightning speed to place itself on Santiago’s wrist. “You still feel off? You’re not messing with me, are you?” he asks, voice demanding with a hint of… something else. “I swear, I will have the nurse over here faster than—”

“Whoa! Don’t get your boxers in a twist, jeez!” Santiago exclaims, and Chrysos halts immediately. “Am I still dreaming? Did you just gaslight me into thinking this is reality? I mean, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worried about me.”

“I’m not worried,” retorts Chrysos, although the watery look in his eyes as he tries to meet Santiago’s gaze says otherwise. And where there would normally be an underlying bite to his tone, it’s totally absent. “Isn’t it fair to ask questions when a certain someone has been unconscious for days?”

Nevermind, I’m definitely not still dreaming.

“So you’ve been worried about me. Got it.” Hopefully that isn’t giddiness bubbling up in his chest, despite—or because of—the way Chrysos sputters out another denial, because it sure as hell is conflicting with his sense of spite. “Why don’t you save any of it for yourself? You’ve been a resident here way more often than me.”

Chrysos stiffens, before puffing up a little; chin lifted indignantly and gaze judgmental. Santiago wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I was conscious all those times and did not actively inhale dangerous toxins made by a very powerful mage.”

Seriously, this guy… Santiago shakes his head. “Dude, I heard you nearly turned yourself into sand that one time, also because of ‘a very powerful mage.’ I saw for myself when you could’ve died fighting Jamil or Overblotted at the same time and had to stay in the infirmary for a very lengthy check-up. You know, you—”

died in my dream because of me and I would never forgive you or myself for that matter if that actually happened,

“—are a grade-A idiot getting hung up on the wrong details,” he decides to say instead. “One of these days, you’re gonna end up back here and I’m gonna get to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Hmph.” Chrysos scoffs and turns his head away. To anyone else, it might look aristocratically prim and stuck-up in the way his hair tosses slightly. “You wouldn’t come running to my bedside crying out my name, then?”

It’s Santiago’s turn to stiffen, feeling called out in too many ways. “...fuck, I forgot you heard me talking in my sleep. Well…” He pauses, searching for an appropriate response. “I would if you wanted me to.” He doesn’t have time to appreciate how smooth that was on his part before his traitorous mouth moves faster than his brain, going right ahead and saying, “And I’d still do it even if you didn’t want me to, ‘cause if you die on me I’m absolutely going to—”

Crap! Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack!

He shuts up immediately before he can incriminate himself any more, pursing his lips and watching carefully for signs of a negative reaction.

Almost too neutrally, Chrysos glances back over at him from the corner of his eyes, the piercing look in his irises only partially hidden by his lashes. “...You really would be that concerned?”

“Maybe,” Santiago answers, pasting on a nervous smile.

“‘Maybe’ isn’t an acceptable response.” Chrysos looks him straight in the eyes. His hand feels warmer, for some reason. “Don’t be shy. What would you do?”

Santiago huffs defensively. “Fancy that, you telling me to not be shy—”

“Santiago. Stop messing with me already.”

That tone, desperate and curious and impatient all in one, is singlehandedly more commanding than any other order Santiago has ever gotten in his life.

The beastman slumps back against the headrest, being sapped of his will to argue. He already knows it’s pointless. It’s kind of hard to beat around the bush when the bush has already slapped you in the face with a very thorny nightmare. “Miss you, probably. I mean, I dreamed about it, but…”

He thinks about the way he screamed and forced himself to wake up because that scenario had seemed so real. Probably can only begin to describe whatever he was feeling.

“...Well. You’re the only person who’s ever gotten me, y’know, so don’t die because you couldn’t help yourself. I don’t wanna have to cope with my dream becoming reality. Please,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh.” Chrysos stares blankly at him for a moment, then at their hands. “...oh,” he repeats, in a much quieter ‘sudden realization’ sort of voice.

Santiago squints at him. “Dude. What kind of guy tells his buddy to open up about his feelings in such a pleading tone and then is surprised when he actually opens up about it?”

“The one right next to you who was expecting his buddy to dodge the question again.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Santiago replies, rolls his eyes.

Chrysos worries his bottom lips, gaze shifting to the side suspiciously quickly. It looks like he’s considering something.

“...Are you taking that literally?” Santiago wants Chrysos to take what he said literally, to be honest, but that’s beside the point.

“Because you’re so dense, yes,” Chrysos snaps back. His free hand comes up to tug one of his curls closer to his face in that bashful way he always does. “If you died like you could’ve from Schoenheit’s poison, I would march right over to the afterlife and drag you back into the world of the living. Then I’d beat you into the ground for hurting me like that. Your ass is not leaving this life until I say it’s okay to. Does that make enough sense to you?”

“I don’t remember the story of the musician and his muse being this violent,” mutters Santiago, feeling incredibly touched despite the brash nature of that admission. Or maybe because of it.

Chrysos’s cheeks flush as red as the ends of his hair. “You asked. I delivered. Look who’s being a hypocrite now.”

“Touché.”

It feels like something between them has… changed, when they both fall silent for lack of things to say. Not in the terrifying way Santiago’s surroundings shifted during his nightmare, but a change for the better. Like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders, making the silence bearable.

“I… think I may need to go,” Chrysos says, a dusting of pink still on his face. Maybe because he’s spoken too much, or at least by his own standards. He stands up, letting go of Santiago’s hand. “Culture fair and. All that. You know how it is. I’ll see you—”

“Wait a minute.”

Santiago reaches out and, instead of just grabbing, intertwines their fingers. His longer ones settle perfectly between Chrysos’ knuckles as if they were meant to be there.

The merman goes still.

“Hypothetically,” Santiago begins, “if I asked you to stay a little longer—would you say yes?”

Chrysos’ mouth opens, freezes, and then closes. When he next speaks, it’s slow and cautious, like he’s testing out how the words actually feel. Testing the waters. “In this hypothetical scenario… I could be convinced to stay. Possibly.”

“Cool. So don’t run away just yet. Stay here with me.”

They make eye contact.

“...How persuasive. Well—” Chrysos sighs and sits back down, before offering Santiago a small smirk. Barely noticeable, but there. “It seems like I’ve actually got plenty of time to spare all of a sudden.”

Santiago can’t help but smile too.

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #santiago parro #chrysos pendentif #with a minor guest appearance from #finn clearcove #canon character appearances <3 too lazy to tag once again #bro. these. these freaking two.#santiago 'i cope using humor because i don't think my true feelings are socially acceptable to talk about' parro #and chrysos 'i am going to go ten different kinds of insane if this bird doesn't speak clearly to me' pendentif #theyre FINALLY getting over themselves a little #santiago: im going to hide how i feel about this! he'll never know!#santiago when chrysos deems the situation dire enough to actually sniff out his bullshit: ...fuck #ill stop going insane in the tags but #these two are literally an inch away from just confessing 💀 im so done with them

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colorfulandblack · 8 months

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Ok, but I'm immensely curious of motives behind Sean's protective nature.

I mean Marion literally saw most likely all of them die one way or another and he just prevents it with his premonitions and soaks those marks. He's protective of the people he cares about

Sean though? He's obviously just as protective as Marion's or Jean (who deserves mad props for patching others up) but his way is just throwing himself headfirst into danger so others won't get hurt.

It could be just his personality, he did say and Marion confirmed that he and his brothers jumped in front of trains for FUN but it could be something else.

I was thinking about the fact that his brothers died and he didn't know about it for a while, and this may be the source of him needing to protect people around him because he couldn't protect his brothers but that bids the question how old were his siblings? I would make (more) sense if he were older than his brothers but he did say he enlisted illegally at the age of 16/17so I would be weird if his brothers got into army even younger. It could be that he is just a protector, it's his nature but it's doesn't fit as well for me

Also he's been through thick and thin with Marion as he mentioned he dragged him along with his brothers to the metro tunnels so I'm assuming they've known each other for a while and notice how he checks in with Marion every one and then especially regarding his abilities. It seems like he's worried for what would happen to Marion if people knew what he could do.

He also seems like a poster boy for a person with a hero complex, deflect and ignore his own problems and demons and just focus on others. Man literally doesn't spare a second glance at a spidery shadow monster after shooting it just "that's taken care of I'm tossing a rope, moving onto next thing", shots an Eldrich terror in the face but flinches at own reflection. Because supernatural shit can be dealt with shotguns and grenades but his own demons can't be. Is he subconsciously throwing himself into danger so he won't have to face his own trauma and in worst outcome die which means he definitely won't have to solve his problems or is just just defecting really hard?

All of those above could factor in here.

And let us not forget about that bomb he dropped at the lighthouse. The "weapons" he killed that were pretty humane and I got a sense that they were either very young or children form the way they were described (but I might be wrong) again he was following orders but he must have felt conflicted and in a sense helpless which now by protecting others he wants to redeem himself.

I might be reading to much into it. It might be just *trauma* which you know shows up and messes with a person in many ways.

I might also do a longer post on others from Thread and Needle but that's it for now

#sorry for the long rant i just cannot stop thinking about it #and yes so far im most intrugued by sean #but its my own fault #you give me a impulsive bastard that uses humor as coping mechanism and a new york accent and im sold #candela spoilers #critical role candela obscura #candela obscura #sean finnerty

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