You've Been Portal Jacked!

tumblr staff will let the thousands of porn bots on here run rampant yet will take down trans comics with no actual nudity

i originally reblogged this post, but since staff took it down you can't fucking see my reblog anymore. well i liked this comic, i want it on my blog, and it does not include any fucking nudity. especially compared to all the straight up porn staff allows to go free

so here it is

untitled by Pas (paxiti), all pages from May 23, 2018 to June 22, 2023

💀💀💀

parts one two three four

———

Lance wants to bolt the second they step out of the castle, but he knows better than that. So he waits, watching them carefully from the windshield (he’s got no better word for it, okay) of the bridge until they’re itty bitty specks. Then he throws on his backpack, grabs his scanner, waves to his pets, and runs in the direction the beast was last seen.

He keeps up a pretty quick pace for a while, not bothering to muffle his footsteps — he doesn’t want to startle the poor thing — and keeps his ears peeled for the sounds of a large animal making its merry way through the woods.

By ‘large’, he means ‘unfathomably gigantic’, because everything on this planet seems to be. Every tree is as wide as four Hunks, and taller than the castle. The various small woodland critters he’s seen running around have been at least the size of Pidge. Idly he wonders how the hell the evolution on this planet even worked, because all the flora and fauna seems to be gigantic, but the people here aren’t much bigger than humans.

He eventually starts to hear the sound of running water, and wastes no time following it. If he’s correct — and he truly thinks he is, as does Coran — this beast will be sitting carefully by the river’s bank, waiting for fish to swim close to it.

See, Lance is almost sure this beast is the planet’s equivalent to a grizzly bear.

And he’s positive it’s injured.

It’s the only thing that makes sense! He did some light research last night, and discovered that the planet is right in the midst of their springtime. He also discovered that, over the winter months, the planet’s city limits had expanded pretty dramatically, cutting into a large chunk of the forest. Lance believes the new city limits bled into the bear’s hunting grounds, and when the bear woke from hibernation in the spring and went looking for food, it ran into the new neighbourhoods. Startled, of course, it got defensive, only further terrorizing the people. Lance thinks that the bear was dazed enough to be hurt by the city’s armies, and now the bear is in pain and full of anger towards the new animals in its territory.

Of course it’s attacking.

Now, if only the team stopped a goddamn second to listen, and I wouldn’t have this problem, Lance thinks to himself, but pushes the thought away just as quickly, scowling to himself.

He forces himself to pause the reflection and save it for later, because it’s not the right time. He’s on a mission. He doesn’t have time to feel sorry for himself, let alone have time to be mad at the team.

It’s just as well that Lance pulled himself out of his thoughts, because straight ahead, looking at him warily, is the bear.

And oh, what a beast it is.

The dignitary — not to give him any goddamn credit, the bastard — was barely exaggerating. The bear is huge. It’s definitely not bigger than a castle, sure, but it’s big enough that Lance knows to keep a respectful distance, and right now the bear is sitting. He can’t imagine how scary it would be on a rampage.

For the first time, a tiny tendril of guilt crawls up his spine. The dignitary might be a pompous dick, but Lance is starting to realise that’s coming from a place of genuine fear, for themself and for the people they represented.

(Lance is still not going to kill the bear, obviously. It’s not the bear’s fault that it’s scary. But Lance is willing to admit that he did not handle the situation with the dignitary like an adult, and especially not like a paladin, and probably owes them a bit of an apology.)

“Hey, there,” Lance says softly, slowly swinging off his backpack and setting it down in front of him.

The bear growls in warning.

“I know, I know, you like your space. I’ll stay over here for now.”

Without looking away, Lance crouches down, blindly searching around the bag until his hand wraps around the two objects he’s looking for. He slowly takes them out and carefully sets one of them — a back of Altean-style dehydrated wild berries — on the ground in front of the bag. With his other hand, he pours a steady stream of water on the pouch, and he and the bear both watch as the pile of berries gradually grows in size until it’s the size of Lance himself.

Lance sits next to them, criss-cross-applesauce, with his backpack on his lap.

“These are for you,” he says, tone even. “I figured it might be pretty hard for you to forage or hunt right now. You must be hungry.”

Logically, it should be impossible for the bear to understand him. But it must like his tone, because slowly — ever so slowly — it uncurls, keeping a careful eye on Lance as it limps over to him and the berries next to him.

Its legs are the size of Earthen tree trunks. Its head alone is bigger than Lance. Its teeth —visible now that its mouth is open, tongue hanging out, salivating in anticipation of the wonderfully juicy berries — are sharper than any razor.

Lance should be afraid.

He’s not.

“Oh, you’re a beautiful thing,” he coos as the bear leans forward and takes a tentative bite from the pile.

The bear side-eyes him — a look that so clearly says ‘bitch, please’ that Lance can’t help his laugh.

“And you take no shit, huh?”

The bear grunts, apparently deciding the berries are safe, and then digs the hell in. It devours the pile so quickly that it’s there in one second and gone in the next.

Once the pile is finished, the bear turns to look at Lance expectantly.

Lance holds his hands up. “I got nothing!”

The bear huffs — no, really — and ambles closer to Lance. It lowers its great head down, and with a nose bigger than Lance’s head, starts sniffing Lance’s backpack for more.

Lance laughs again. “There’s nothing in there, you silly creature. No food, anyway.”

The bear finally decides he’s telling the truth — or, more likely, doesn’t smell any more food — and flops to the ground, looking to Lance in what he can only describe as petulance.

“I have no more food,” Lance says again. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly, and carefully rests his hand in between the bear's cute little ears when it makes no move to stop him. “But I might have more help for you, though.”

The bear rumbles. Lance takes this as an indication to continue.

“I noticed you were limping. Your front right leg. You’ve got some matted blood on there, too. If you’ll let me, I can clean that wound, stitch it right up, and you’ll be as good as new. That sound okay?”

The bear doesn’t make any more noise, but it does flop over on its side, leaving its right side up for access.

Lance takes a deep breath.

“Okay, big guy. Let me fix you up.”

He gathers up his bag and walks over to the wounded leg in question. He inspects it, but can’t really see the wound under all the blood.

“I’m going to clean it first, okay? I’ll get some river water first. That’ll be better than antiseptic.”

The bear grunts.

Lance grabs a clean cloth out of his bag — really, it’s a queen-sized sheet, but in comparison to the bear looks as small as the tiniest of rags — and soaks it in the frigid river, ringing it out as best as he can with his tiny human hands.

He walks back over to the bear and begins gently wiping away the nasty, coagulated blood from matted fur. It takes a while, but he’s eventually able to see the wound.

He does not like what he sees.

The wound starts cleanly, like it was a cut, but then looks torn, like the flesh was ripped. Lance isn’t sure what weapon may have caused it — that’s more of Keith’s thing — but knows it was certainly no natural cause.

“I’m going to need to apply quite a bit of antiseptic,” he tells the bear, even though the bear most certainly does not know what that is. “It’s going to hurt, but I need to do it, because it already looks a little bit infected.”

He opens his massive tub of antiseptic and holds it out for the bear to sniff. Its giant nose wrinkles, and then it looks pained, but it carefully lays its head back down on the ground and tenses its muscles.

Lance takes that as permission.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” Lance babbles as he pours the horrible chemical over the wound and the bear roars in agony. “I know, I know. I know. It’s okay. Let it out. It’s done, now, once the sting fades.”

The sting must fade eventually, because the bear quiets, although it breathes heavily and remains tense.

“It’s okay,” Lance whispers, petting the first patch of uninjured fur he can reach. “It’s alright. The worst part is over, okay? That hurt so bad that you’ll barely even feel the stitches, okay? Just the smallest pinch.”

The bear whines, high and long, and Lance bites back tears.

This could all be avoided if people just used some compassion, for fuck’s sake.

He closes his eyes and swallows roughly. That’s not fair. It’s unlikely that anyone meant for this to happen, and it’s unfair for Lance to blame people. Sometimes life just sucks.

But it’s his job as a paladin to make it suck marginally less, and by God, he is going to do his job.

“Ready for the stitches, big guy? It’s the second-to-last step.”

Lance reaches into his back again and digs out the absolutely giant suture needle, so big it’s basically a weapon, and the beast-sized sutures. He gets to work carefully stitching up the wound, applying every ounce of Abuela’s sewing lessons into his furrowed brow and steady hands.

It takes a while, but eventually the wound is closed up neatly.

“Almost done,” Lance assures the bear. It makes an almost purring noise in response, which makes Lance beam in delight.

He takes two last things from his pack — some Altean antibiotic numbing ointment, and a mummy’s amount of bandages.

“This’ll be cold,” he warns, before spreading a generous amount of the ointment onto the wound. The bear audibly sighs in relief, slumping further into the ground as its muscles finally un-tense.

Lastly, Lance carefully wraps the wound in the bandages until it’s completely covered, then stands back, hands on his hips, to access his patch job.

“I think you look okay!” he says with a grin. “Try standing.”

The bear gets up using its three unharmed legs, then gingerly applies weight to the injured one once it’s balanced.

It blinks.

It applies more weight.

Suddenly it roars, in delight this time, and ducks its head to nudge Lance gently in thanks. Lance laughs, petting the creature everywhere he can reach.

“You’re welcome!” The bear makes that almost-purr noise again, and Lance sighs. “Now all we gotta do is convince this whole damn planet that you’re a big, giant softie.”

The bear pulls its head away, making Lance pout, and stares at him for a moment.

“What? You have any bright ideas? I, unfortunately, did not plan this far. I kinda thought something would come to me on the way.”

The bear grunts. Then it opens its great jaw, reaching for Lance, but it doesn’t eat him — it carefully hooks Lance’s hoodie in its teeth, lifts him up, and tosses him gently on its back.

Lance blinks.

“Well this is a — development.”

The bear grunts again, pawing at the ground. It starts off down the river, but not in the direction where Lance assumed its cave to be.

It’s headed to the city.

“What’re you — oh,” Lance cries, and is a little embarrassed to be outfoxed by a bear.

“That’s a great idea! If the people see you treating me gently, then won’t be so scared, and I’ll be able to explain. You’re so smart!”

If Lance didn’t know better, he’d think the bear seemed smug.

But he does know better, so he gets comfortable, organizes his pack, and starts planning what he’s going to say to make this whole crisis blow over.

ghost hunting team that keep a nonbeliever named steve around as an emergency supernatural suppressant

With severance season 2 around the corner it’s time for me to share the time I accidentally watched 4 minutes of an episode on mute and thought it was a brilliant way to show the sensory deprivation experienced by the innies

Honestly, this is both depressing and really heartwarming. One thing I hate most about our society currently is how they convince people that their only worth is in working, and if they can't, they're useless. Like imagine thinking humans only purpose is to basically just be a fucking robot. Man, just make a fuckjng robot then! Don't give me that bullshit. (Not talking to you, btw)

Demons and monsters that torture people because they feed on human suffering are so dumb. People are suffering everywhere my guy go literally any place and take a deep whiff.

Delivered, as promised, my dear smegheads.

Enjoy this brilliant part of the talk ☺️🫡

I had to cut out some parts about domestic life, because of the limit, but if anyone would be interested, I'm more than happy to transcribe it in the morning!

Did it rub anyone else the wrong way when Sam got annoyed at danny in the last episode, Phantom plannet, for giving up his ghost power? More specifically her saying "you're just like everyone else" like that was the worst thing ever and "i dont even know who you are anymore" like excuse me, hes a literal child who wants to live his life and not fight someone elses battle. Is it so wrong that now that he doesn't have to defend everyone or else someone could die, he just wants to have fun and not have to fight a ghost every other second? I dont know, Danny's life sounds like just the worst to me if I'm being honest and when he can finally put the mantle down hes castised by his friends and even Jazz, it just really hit me wrong.

And another thing! If the only thing that makes him unique is his powers, is he really unique? If everyone had his powers, would he no longer be worth hanging out with cuz suddenly he's just like everyone else? No! Hes Danny! In all that he is and maybe he's not a hundred percent unique but if the only reason you hang out with him is his powers than don't fucking hang out with him.

Dude, this is memorizing

Putting on a good face