Froot

Building my own real Woowoo ref, what do we think so far.... #Wolfwood

A raffle would be cool 🤔 I’ll have to consider my options for what kind of raffle I wanna do! Thank you for the suggestion 🥹🫶

I want to do something special for 100 followers, but I’m unsure what 🤔 Any ideas? 🥹🫶

Pins are still being filled in, but they’re getting closer!!

Artwork proof for the lovesick fool Vash panel pin! 2 inch by 3 inch pin with a transparent stained glass fill in pink. Panel taken from volume 8. Vash has his eyes closed and he’s smiling for real. Text boxes are Wolfwood’s thoughts, reading “…is he…smiling…?”

I have a small update for Vash! The art proof has been approved. When I receive a proof for the physical pin I will share it asap 🫡

🎀 kiss it better
#trigun #wolfwood

I’m excited for this one

A little snippet from one of the requests 💕

💓
#liviothedoublefang

My contribution to the @loveandlassos.bsky.social zine! It was an honor to be able to pinch hit for such a wonderful project! 🐎
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{ #loveandlassoszine | #trigun | #trigunmaximum | #cowboywolfwood | #nicholasDWolfwood | #Wolfwood | | #renardsrusesart | #renardsruses }

Doing my best to 🫂💕

Still working on requests, yah boi is just a little slow cause of life / health rn but I’m workin’ on ‘em! 💕

a quick comic inspired by @pyromancey.bsky.social 's one shot

I um. am also walking into the sea bye.

#vashwood #trigun #vol10

Working on requests still, then I’ll get back to working on art :3

The air in the motel room is thick with the scent of cheap incense and the headier, pungent aroma leftover from the sticky herbal substance they indulged in together. A single, bare bulb overhead casts long shadows around the room. Wolfwood sits directly under it, sprawled in a rickety chair like a pastiche of Saint Sebastian. His shirt hangs open, a stark frame for the dark, toned planes of his chest, sleeves shoved up past his elbows. His arms rest hooked over the back of the chair, his shoulders pulled back, relaxed. A toothpick hangs out of the corner of his mouth, the tip of it bobbing up and down as Wolfwood chews on the end of it. His dark eyes, though hazy, are fixed on Vash. Vash perches on the edge of the lumpy bed. His cheek rests on a drawn-up knee, and he stares right back at Wolfwood with a languid, heavy-lidded intensity. The artificial light carves his features into something sharper, more severe — the elegant line of his jaw, spiky hair a crown of pale needles. The harmless goof is gone, bleached out by the wan light. The indulgence had been on a whim, a mutual need to quiet the noise in their heads. Now, the silence between them hangs as heavy as the perfumed air, humming with a steady undercurrent of raw, unspoken energy. Vash moves first. It isn't his typical clumsy, affectionate lunge; instead, a slow, deliberate uncoiling. He flows off of the bed and into a stride with effortless grace, movements fluid and unnervingly precise despite the psychoactive haze he's tangled up in. Two silent strides carry him across the small room and into Wolfwood's space, wedging himself between Wolfwood's spread legs.

Some stupid, sarcastic remark forms on Wolfwood's lips but before he can set it loose, Vash's gloved hand is on his jaw. His fingers dig tenderly into the space where his jaw hinges, tilting Wolfwood's head back. Wolfwood stares up at Vash, blinking at the dazzling halo of light around Vash's head. The grip isn't painful, just unyielding; grounding Wolfwood in the moment. "Nick," Vash murmurs. His voice is low, resonant in Wolfwood's skull. Then Vash is leaning down, kissing him, pressing their lips together. His mouth his hot, demanding and needy. Vash kisses him like he's trying to devour the cynicism, the pain and the world-weariness right out of Wolfwood's mouth. His other hand grips Wolfwood's shoulder, pinning it to the chair, while the hand on his jaw slides up to tangle in his short, dark hair. He tugs on the locks, just hard enough to coax Wolfwood's neck into a backwards arch, throat bared. A startled, ragged gasp escapes Wolfwood's throat. Vash swallows it immediately. His own hands, which had been hanging lip at his sides, twitch eagerly. One comes to clutch at the leather girding Vash's sides. The other finds purchase on Vash's hip, his own fingers digging into the muscle, attempting to tug Vash closer but unable to move Vash — he's standing still, solid. The high brings everything into a softer, more vivid relief. Wolfwood feels every minute shift of Vash's body against his, the scorching heat that radiates from him, the faint, telling tremor in the hand tangled in his hair—a tremor not of weakness, but of a terrifyingly focused, barely-contained need. Vash tastes of smoke, desert dust, and underneath it all something uniquely Vash — a hint of ozone and something sweet.

Vash breaks from his lips to trail open-mouthed kisses along Wolfwood's jaw. His teeth scrape over stubble, a sharp, delicious friction, before he latches onto the frantic pulse in Wolfwood's neck. He sucks, hard, a deliberate, branding pressure, and Wolfwood's head falls back against the chair with a solid thud. A wave of light-headed pleasure crashes through him, followed by a full-body shudder that he cannot suppress. "Vash—" Wolfwood gasps, nicknames abandoned, the true name falling from his lips unwittingly, a plea and a protest fused into one strained syllable. He feels the immediate shift in Vash's demeanor more than anything — a subvocal, hungry purr radiating from his pulse point all through his body. Vash's teeth release him, and he pulls back just enough for Wolfwood to see his face. His blue-green eyes are glowing in the dim light, wide and dark with want. His lips are already kiss-swollen, his breathing uneven. "Say that again." Vash demands, voice rough with desire. He leans back in, his lips brushing Wolfwood's ear. "Say my name." A sharp canine brushes the shell of Wolfwood's ear and he's gasping involuntarily, prevented from flinching away by his companion's iron grip. "Vash—" A low, satisfied moan vibrates against his ear before Vash's mouth attacks the soft, vulnerable spot just behind it, the spot that unravels Wolfwood's composure and turns his knees to water. "Again," Vash commands, the word a hot, greedy whisper against his salty skin. It's like pressing a live wire to Wolfwood. His resistance, already frayed by the high and the overwhelming physicality of Vash's presence, crumbles completely.

"Vash," he repeats on a ragged exhale. It trails off, like a false-start to a mantra. "Yes," Vash's mouth leaves his ear, travels back along his jaw with wet, sucking kisses more heard than felt, "again." "Vash. Vash…" Wolfwood's voice grows stronger, edged with the same rough need coiling in his gut. Vash rewards him with a deep, searing kiss. His hands are everywhere — one still tangled in Wolfwood's hair, holding him in place, the other sliding from his shoulder to splay possessively over the center of his chest, fingers twitching in time with the frantic hammer of Wolfwood's heart. When they break for air, their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the thick air, Vash's demand is but a whisper. "Again."

"out of greed" 💛

Absolutely 🥹

My first ever post on Ao3, too 😳
archiveofourown.org/works/807030...

I have one more SFW blurb to write, then on to NSFW :3c

🫡 ON IT CAPTAIN

Considering posting the blurbs I’ve written for requests to ao3 for easier access 🤔

Had to do it LMAOOOO thank you for requesting it I made myself cry 🥹🫶

Aftercare is so important this one is gonna be so sweet omg 🥹

That’s a good one :3 I loooveee that prompt

Oh, that was a good reaction <3 toys is a fun one :3

Oh this one will be interesting 👀