#From a fic I never finished

[iindigoeyed]

saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!

[that1notetaker]

Planning something. Maybe

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[riacte]

Unconventional format / mixed media / meta / epistolary fic ideas:

Script format but the characters slowly break fourth wall until they grow self aware and scream to leave but the script confines them.

Mock up notes of an author's fic outline only for a "fan favourite" / "author's darling" character to gain sentience and influence the story. The character changes the outline to suit their own agenda, and their changes are marked with a different colour whereas black text means it's the author's will. Maybe another character using another colour gains sentience. The different colours fight for dominance. Mom says it's my turn with the keyboard hey what the fuck man excuse me I'm literally trying to save my family can you guys let go and let me write your character arcs in peace OH FUCK OFF

Recipe fic. The story is told via those unnecessarily long backstories on a recipe blog in which you learn about someone's grandma or a breakup or literally anything. Bonus points if the actual recipe deals with worldbuilding (what ingredients are available? What utensils are used? How to serve this meal? Woohoo Dungeon Meshi) or in-cheek recipes (eg. "Recipe for making up with your estranged mother - Step 1: Mix patience, nostalgia, and filial piety and let it marinate for ten years. Step 2: Throw that shit into the trash because you're better than that")

Travel fic. A character is lost and trying to find their way somewhere. GPS directions, googling "x place to x place", tickets and dates, train station maps, leaflets. It gets weirder and weirder. You never get closer to your destination. You're walking around in circles. It's always 10 meters away. Where are you going and where have you been?

Receipts. Try to infer what a character is doing judging from the weird things they buy together. Also yipppee inflation tracker. On the other side, maybe it can be about a cashier/ shop owner getting to know their customers and what they order.

Written from the pov of an non-native English speaker, all the English words are italicized whereas their native tongue are the only words not italicized. Inspired by Kupu rere kē by Alice Te Punga Somerville. This is because I got salty about people from Ao3 Reddit saying they won't read a fic in all italics.

Murder mystery / "Among Us" style impersonation fic strictly using the chatfic format. Characters and readers will have to figure out which character has been killed and replaced from the way they text and use emojis. This is also because I got salty about Ao3 Reddit being a wee bit pretentious about emoji usage in fics. Maybe emojis can be important plot devices! Some people prefer to sign off messages with a heart emoji of their signature colour, so won't it be weird if they use another coloured heart? How about someone using lapslock suddenly using proper capitalisation and full stops? Can you tell if someone's phone has been stolen? What if someone's mother is pretending to text like their child? Why is someone suddenly only using UwU speak? Is it a bit, or have they been replaced?

Innocuous second person POV until the last line where it's suddenly revealed to be first person POV all along and the "I" has been stalking and narrating "you".

Other fun bits / Easter eggs / secrets to hide:

Decoding within the text itself. Maybe we get given instructions to find a word in x chapter on page y on the nth line. And when we as readers collect all the words, they form a sentence that spells out an important fact which the characters are oblivious to. Or maybe the in-universe characters find a book with the same title as the irl fic with a bookmark in it, and if you go to where the bookmark is stuck irl, you'll find the murderer plainly stated. The rest of the fic is about the readers having hard confirmation of who the murderer is while characters don't know.

A phrase is subtly repeated throughout the text of the fic and is spelled out with the letter that begins a sentence. It gives off the effect that the narrator is screaming and crying into the void (to the readers in the fourth wall) while trying to avoid detection. Bonus points if the same word is repeated for pages and pages to the point the lack of sentence variation feels weird and clunky.

Morse code!! I love morse code! Using onomatopoeia to convey the dots and dashes! The sound of rain pattering on the tin rooftop— drop, drop, drop. A low whistle of a train rumbling in the distance. He slowly sharpens his knife, creating a shiiing sound. A lengthy, high pitched squeal from his kettle. A dog barks. A sharp knock. His heart thumps. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. SOS. Maybe a character's death scene spells out the name of their mysterious murderer. Maybe a character is reminiscing their deceased loved one and the scene spells out what the deceased person would've wanted to tell them— "LIVE ON" or "I LOVE YOU" or something.

[rebrandedbard]

How does the great Sandpiper successfully smuggle 130 children out of the Nilfgaard-occupied territory of Hamm? With the power of a forgotten story, a traditional song, and a masterful lie.

A piece for my upcoming fic, The Piper of Hamm, based on The Pied Piper of Hamelin, next in my fairy tale series.

[picnokinesis]

"if there is any man left alive here, speak up and tell me: who killed all this mighty force?" and the dead replied: "child, it was you."

Finally, some art?! Yes well actually I drew this one all the way back in May for The History Between Us, a fanzine, which is being organised by the fabulous @77yearsteam! It's going to be included as a print to go with the special edition of the zine, along with a ton of other fantastic merch - and if that wasn't enough, the zine itself is going to be SO incredible! I've already had a sneak preview and it's full of a ton of incredible stories and artwork from some, following these two disaster timelords throughout their long and complicated history. Pre-orders open on 7th October, so make sure you check it out!

[apdreadful]

The couples hanging out and playing silly couple games when Chimney asks “What’s Tommy’s favorite four letter word?” and Buck turns bright red and buries his face in his hands and mumbles as Tommy grins.

Karen cackles and rubs her hands together “Oh it must be dirrrty”

And Hen says “Oh I bet I know what it is?” And tilts her head and in an exaggerated imitation of Tommy’s bedroom voice she purrs “Evan”

Muah hahahahaha

[marikodraws]

Carry you home

redo of this drawing from some years back :3

[pinkinsect]

im never finishing this comic so woe. blue lock rpf be upon ye

[meowkunas]

good for me

pairing: tighnari x reader

summary: tighnari gets more than he bargained for when he comes across a field of aphrodisiac flowers, especially when he has to deal with you getting 'lost' again

word count: 3.4k

warnings; nsfw content, reader has a pussy, aphrodisiac, slight exhibitionism?, lots of mention + playing with tighnari's ears and tail, "good girl" is mentioned once (by tighnari)

a/n: sensitive ears and sensitive tail! only the last 1.7k+ is horny material <3

Sometimes, Tighnari thinks he's an idiot.

Aphrodisiac flowers give off a distinct scent; something that he's had to learn the hard way over the years. And he knows how much they affect him. But they still entice him in the worst way possible.

"Because that's what they're supposed to do, you idiot," Tighnari mutters. He pushes the ice pack harder against his cheek, hoping to stop the hot flush creeping up his neck.

This time it was a whole patch of brightly coloured flowers in the Avidya Forest. He hadn't even realised he was doing it — rolling around in the bright flowers with reckless abandon, the scent overtaking his nose and a gradual, pleasurable warmth running under his skin. It takes an embarrassingly long time before he pauses in his actions. And it's only because his instincts kick in, telling him that he's being watched. Movement stopped. Breath stilled. Ears listening.

Whatever presence he'd sensed had disappeared. Probably just a fluke. Regardless, at least he'd been close enough to the village to dash back on shaky legs.

He hates this. He really does. Even a habitual twist of his ear sends a hot urge sinking to his stomach.

Just as he's gritting his teeth and deciding how he's going to take the rest of the day off and, preferably, alone, there's a knock on his door. Without waiting for his confirmation, they come in. A forest ranger, out of breath and spilling over with information.

"A scholar. They were coming to deliver their research on to the Akademiya, but they got... There was a Withering." The forest ranger dips their voice, just slightly. "They see familiar in a way? I'm not too sure."

Tighnari's ears twitch at the words. The Withering is still causing problems this close to Gandharva Ville? This is definitely not the time to be distracted by aphrodisiac flowers. Fuck.

"Familiar?" He questions.

Recognition seems to click in the forest rangers eyes. "It's the exchange student. The one who nearly got eaten the first time they showed up here?"

Tighnari tries to stop the way his heart races at the thought of you, once again showing up in the village. Still, it's not good to be thinking of you when he's in this state, or else he might just pounce on you the moment he sees you.

"Show me."

He's got some self-control left. Just a bit.

"I suggest you peruse this Avidya Forest Survival Guide once again, paying close attention to the chapter near the end about the Withering this time."

You're not even listening, Tighnari notes. You're sitting in his bed, blanket pulled over your lap, both hands curled around a cup of warm tea, and nodding. But you're not listening. Your eyes are slowly drifting up every so often up to his ears, before snapping back to his eyes, and honestly, it's kind of rude. He feels his patience snap. Only because he's starting to imagine things, and looking at your hands, and hoping they would be the one coaxing through his tail. He really shouldn't be having these thoughts about someone he's just officially met two weeks ago.

And it's only because of the aphrodisiac, he assures himself. Only because...

"You can touch them if you want," Tighnari says. His mind is finally catching up to his mouth, informing him of how simply terrible this decision is, because if you touch them, he might never ask you to stop. Instead, he watches as you visibly flinch and catches your eyes glancing down towards his tail as he gives it an experimental swish.

Caught in the act.

He's not an idiot. He knows his fur looks soft, and he's caught various other people staring sometimes.

You choke on your drink. "That's really not—"

"Really." He leans forward, towards you. The warm room is getting to him, making him feel just a bit bolder than he usually is. There's probably a realistic, polite part of you that's hesitating. But there's no way the twinkle in your eye or the way your heartbeat races can be imagined by Tighnari. Especially not when he's so oversensitive to every sound at the moment. You're so obvious, and so easy to read.

His gloved hand slowly reaches up to stroke the tip of his fluff ear, and your eyes follow the movement. Your hands around the cup tighten until you're sure that it'll crack under your grip if you squeezed any harder. You take another sip of your now-cold drink. It doesn't quell the flushness in your cheeks, nor the tenseness in your entire body. Tighnari hears, rather than sees, your pulse quicken as you swallow.

He needs to get a hold of himself because he's meant to be hospitable right now, especially to someone who was another lost lamb. It was almost a weekly routine at this point. Someone would get lost, end up here, and he would send them on their merry way.

Except, you've shown up here three times now. The first time was after encountering some carnivorous flowers and reaching a state of shock, the second time was when Tighnari found you wandering of the path, and now, this. Academics usually had a bit more common sense than this.

He narrows his eyes. "What were you doing this time?"

Your cheeks flush at his words, fingers thrumming against the cup's surface. "I thought I saw you, so I was coming over to say hello. But," your voice quietens. "You seemed busy."

Tighnari freezes. A feeling of dread running through his body. If you saw him earlier, then that means you saw him in the flower field. But that's not the worst part. Tighnari knows he's rarely quiet when the heat overwhelms him, which means you most likely heard him making the most pitiful sounds.

"They were aphrodisiac flowers." No point lying to you now. "I'm very sensitive to them, unfortunately."

"Aphrodisiacs?" You repeat, eyes widening.

"Yes."

He watches you open your mouth to say something, then close it just as quickly. To be fair, he doesn't know what compelled him to tell you the truth. The cup all but clatters from your hand onto the side table, and you're wrenching the blanket away from you quickly.

You stand up, smoothening down your clothes even though there aren't any wrinkles. "I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time." You bow your head quickly. "I think I remember the way to the Akademiya. Thank you." You pause. "Tighnari."

Oh fuck.

With just one word, his mind runs wild, hearing your voice in other tones — a pained, needy voice calling out his name. He can very easily picture you panting in his ear. The room feels like it's burning all of a sudden. He clears his throat.

"No worries!" He says, cringing at the cheerful tone. "Stop by anytime!"

He needs you to leave. Right now.

And thankfully, gratefully, you do; eyes still looking towards the floor. Tighnari hears the nervous thump of your heart as you brush past him; but you don't look back.

A wave of relief washes over him. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, feeling every muscle in his body relax except... the heat running through him is worse now. And it's not something he can keep ignoring.

There must be a higher power out there working in his favour because, not a moment later, the forest ranger who announced your arrival bounds through the door. This time announcing your prompt departure.

"Alright. Please let everyone know that I'm not to be bothered for the rest of the night. I think I need some rest." He prays they let this slide. Please, just one more thing.

The forest ranger nods their acceptance of his request, and darts off again.

But Tighnari isn't thinking much about that anymore. He's crumpled over on top of his bedsheets and dragging his pants down to relieve the tightness over him. He makes the mistake of pressing his nose into the pillow.

It still smells like you. And he can still hear the lilting tone of your voice, imagined to be just a bit higher pitched and whiny, saying his name. He pulls a glove off his hand with his teeth, hissing as it makes contact with his warm length, teeth immediately clamping over his bottom lip to stop any further sounds.

It was going to be a long night.

You, on the other hand, are hesitantly standing at the edge of the village. The path should take you to the Akademiya in no more than two days. You know. You've gone through this way many times. Way more than the other three hindrances that have caused you to catch Tighnari's eye.

Tighnari.

He'd offered to let you touch his ears, and you'd still walked away, said no, been very polite, and where did that get you? Frustrated and annoyed. Especially because you've been spending the last two stops in the village trying to get the courage to ask. The opportunity slips by yet again.

But then you remember his heat-filled gaze. Is touching his ears an intimate thing? And the aphrodisiac flowers he was talking about earlier...

You decide right there and then to take the winding, twisting path back up to Tighnari's place, and say you would like to touch them actually, and it didn't matter if it was going to make things weird because you were interested anyways—

Your thoughts cut off as you reach his front door and hear a muffled groan. Not a pained one by any means. A low heat drops to your stomach, and begins to travel further downwards. Ah, this is the opportunity to leave right? This seems like a very private moment to walk in on, and not what you intended at all. You can simply send him a letter to request a visit, or drop by another day. But your feet stay frozen in place, refusing to move, even as a louder noise leaves Tighnari's lips.

There's a small opening in his window, and you really shouldn't be peeking inside, but your eyes dart to a movement out of the corner of your eye and your brain short-circuits. It's mostly just bare skin, but you can guess the position he's in, just from the peek you're given.

Your fingers unconsciously trace up your thigh.

And then, you freeze again as Tighnari moans out your name.

He's perched on all fours, rutting into his bare fist.

"Fuck." He mutters, brushing his thumb over the head of his pulsing cock and feeling his breath hitch. It's not enough. He doesn't stop his movements, even when he hears you slip in through the door, a nervous look on your face. He's known you've been watching for a while. Every bone in his body is ushered into high alert, especially at the state he's in. It also means-he bites his lip on a moan again as his tail tangles in the sheets-he's extremely sensitive.

A very dangerous part of his mind wants him to give you a show.

You stop a few paces behind him, hands hovering in midair. "Tighnari?"

It's not like what he's doing has hit you yet. It's just one thing for your eyes to see it and another for your brain to fully register what you've walked in on.

He rolls over onto his back, face flushed and ears twitching wildly at the top of his head. You step towards him once he opens himself up for you, and his tail wraps around his thigh.

Would his tail be wagging rigorously in excitement if he didn't do that? You don't know how this all works but—

"Please." Tighnari whines. He's a disheveled mess, made even more so when his hands push his shirt up, past his stomach and brushing over his nipples. There's not a single thought running through your head right now, except for just how pretty he looks, splayed out before you.

You definitely haven't misheard him moaning your name, because he's still moaning it in the same pleading tone, even now.

Moving closer to him still, you hesitate. Maybe you're imagining it, but you swear you're close enough to feel the heat of his body and there's nothing you'd like more than to press up against him. Still. This is weird, right? Tighnari and you don't have this kind of relationship.

His next words stop you. "Touch me, please."

He chokes back a moan as your hand grabs his tail in a stroking motion �� not too hard, not too soft. He might be able to cum just from your touch alone. This is bad. This is definitely bad. This is—

"Hng!" It's impossible not to let that one slip out. Your fingers deftly brush over the tip of his tail, curious and tentative, but growing bolder with every whimper you drag out of him. A sharp pain runs on his hand, and it takes him a bleary moment to realise it's because of himself, biting down hard on his gloved hand to stop the embarrassingly loud sounds leaving his lips.

It's only then that he realises you've laid yourself down next to him, perched up on one elbow. Your other hand is still wrapped around his tail. You're so close to him. Your eyes are focused on his expressions, watching as his eyes squeeze shut, back slightly arching into the air every time you dance your fingers over the fluffy length.

His eyes refocus from the pleasure when he notices your mouth moving. The words pass through one ear and out the next, and he's not registering it at all. Wait. His name. You're mouthing his name. In his haze, he's not really sure he understands what you're saying, so he does the next best thing.

His still-gloved hand reaches up to cup your face, thumb stroking over your cheek. Your eyes soften, and you lean over to press your lips to his hesitantly.

Tighnari wants to laugh. You're touching him in ways that he's only touched himself in, and you're still nervous over kissing him. Everything about you is so warm. The hand on his tail, and even the way your lips move against his spreads a warm feeling throughout his whole body.

It's when you move to a more stable position and allow your other wandering hand to brush over one of his ears, that he absolutely loses any sense of self-control. His vision blurs and he's rutting his hips into the air, gasping into your lips. You pull away quickly, hand stopping the movement on his tail but still stroking over his ears. Gently.

You lean down further, pressing a kiss against his jawline and travelling up to his ears. "They really are so soft," you whisper.

He whimpers, trying to bury his face into your neck.

"I still..." He pauses, watching as you pull back from you to meet his gaze again. You tilt your head to the side, a smile beginning to appear on your lips. "If you..." He trails off again.

You're not going to make him say it, right? He feels an embarrassed flush settle in his chest. His whole body still feels like it's on fire, as though he's going to combust if he isn't touched properly in the next few seconds. And you're certainly not helping. Not with the way you're running one hand through his hair, and twisting his hair around his ears, nor with the way your other hand is lightly brushing over his skin, leaving small warming spots in its path.

He gestures vaguely towards his hardening cock and you let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I can help with that still. If you need." But you say it as more of a statement than a question.

You leave his side briefly, and he almost lets out another whimper. His mind still feels hazy, coming down from his high. The sensitivity in his body overrides his instincts, and he doesn't hear you coming.

You hitch one of your legs over his middle, straddling him. He feels faint. Your bare thighs cling around his sides and he feels everything. You're not wearing anything under there. You must have taken it off after you moved away. And—

You lift the bottom of your shirt that's covering the rest of your decency and Tighnari genuinely thinks he might cum again, just from the sight alone.

You, on top of him, plunging your fingers into your depths and stretching yourself out to take him in. It's so loud. You're so loud. He's so sure that the sinful sounds leaving your lips will ring in his ears the next time he even looks at you.

If he wasn't in such a blissful state already, he absolutely would like to see how you would feel on his fingers. His free hand tugs off the remaining glove, reaching for your thighs.

You're soft. He thinks he's starting to get what you meant when you were stroking his ears earlier.

Your name leaves his lips unprompted, and you turn to look at him. All motion stopped.

You speak first. "Is this still okay?"

Tighnari nods, not trusting his mind to phrase the word properly. It's enough. He's still biting back a guttural noise from the back of his throat as one of your hands reach behind you to wrap around his cock. It's already fully hard again. Tighnari can't tell anymore whether it's still the aphrodisiac clouding his mind, or whether it's just because of you.

Really, all he can feel right now is you. Your thighs surrounding his waist, your hand causing a wave of pleasure to run through his body, and even the scent of you is starting to fill his lungs. Still, he grabs your arm. He needs you to be sure.

"I want this." He says, combining it with what he hopes comes out as a reassuring nod.

It's enough for you. There's no more hesitations with your movements when you move to take him in; inch by pleasurable inch. He slides straight into your warm tightness so easily, and he can feel you collapse onto him, panting into his neck while you adjust. He's glad. He needs this time to adjust to, especially with you clinging so tightly around him.

You feel him stretching you out, and he's whispering in your ear, wildly incoherent. Does he even know what he's saying anymore? Awkward mumbles of "good", followed by a shaky breath, and then "girl".

He's good. He's so good to you, really. Still trying to gain back some semblance of control when you both know who's really taking the reins here.

"It's okay, Tighnari." You run your hands over his ears, drifting down to the back of his neck. "You can take it."

He mewls, bucking up into your soft form without hesitation. It wins him an uncontrollable moan form your lips. He's all ready to coax the same sound out of you with the movement again, when he feels you moving on top of him — hands settling over his stomach as you lift your hips up. There's a slight brush of cold air against his exposed cock, but it's quickly returned to wonderful heat when you drop back on to him.

It doesn't take long until he's cumming again. It's hot and so good, that he's sure he blacks out for a bit this time, blinking back to focus as you softly stroke his head, in-between his ears.

He winces.

The extra stimulation from his ears runs through his body, and it feels almost painful. Your hands stop as you notice. Tighnari laughs, breathy and rumbly through his chest.

"Well." He says, eyes shining bright and tail weakly swishing under him.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well."

"I want to apologise first for dragging you into this mess. Truthfully, I..." His words trail off as he notices you vigorously shaking your head.

"No, don't be sorry at all. It was..." You trail off.

Tighnari leans up on his elbows, albeit shakily, with a small smile on his face. "I think..." His eyes land on your exposed collarbone meaningfully before travelling up to meet your gaze. "I might have to return the favour at some point."

"Oh?" A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. "When were you thinking?"

Tighnari lifts a finger up to drag along your neck — pale and unmarked. "Just give me a minute."

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ok Wild Angsters, you wanted a continuation, so here you go :)

Four already knew what he would be walking into. His phone had been blowing up for hours. He’d come in to work early. Whether he was assigned to take care of Wild or not was another matter - Vaati loved to try and take all the admissions, convinced he was the best nurse on the unit. If Four could just keep Vaati out of Wild’s room, he’d consider it a success.

When the charge nurse told him he would be admitting the trauma alert, he knew who he was getting.

Pre-admission jitters always made Four anxious, but this was an entirely other level of fear. He almost wanted to request a different assignment, but it was too late now. What if he couldn’t take caer of him because he was his friend? What if that impair his decision making? What if he just wasn’t skilled enough to handle it? He knew Ezlo wouldn’t give him an assignment he couldn’t handle, wouldn’t be there to support him, but still…

Four went over the supplies in his room once more. Safety checks were fine—they had suction, they had a bag valve mask, the code card was nearby—and he had all the supplies he needed. It was just a waiting game.

Four paced the unit at least three times before he looked at the OR status board again. Wild was still in surgery. He poked in his chart, glancing at injuries, looking at vital signs and anesthesia notes. The last update he saw was that Wild had gotten another unit of blood. Estimated blood loss so far was around 2200mL.

2200mL. That… wasn’t too terrible, Four supposed. He’d… seen worse.

Please don’t get worse.

Four knew for certain that Wild had been mass transfused in the ED. Warriors, his primary nurse when he was there, had told him as much. Between that and the multiple blood products he’d gotten in surgery, as well all the crystalloids he was likely getting as well…

Four took a breath. Then another. He grabbed his phone, texting Warriors. You doing ok?

Wars didn’t reply.

Four wasn’t entirely sure where everyone was at this point. Hyrule had stayed at the hospital, lingering in the emergency department and then the operating room waiting area, but Four hadn’t seen him since he’d clocked in. Warriors and Legend should be getting off shift now, but whether they were going to stay up was another matter. Time was obviously in the OR (Wild’s wreck had been around 10pm, he’d arrived in the ED around 10:45, and he’d been stabilized for surgery and gone to the OR by around midnight - it was 7am now… he wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, but it couldn’t be much longer). Malon should be getting on shift now as well - she had come in last night when everything had gone down, alongside Twilight. Wind had been cautiously left out of the loop until Wild had gone to surgery, simply because nobody had really had much information at the time, so no one wanted to worry the kid until they could figure things out. Everyone had their hands full as it was. But by now, Four knew Wind was either in the OR waiting room, harassing every respiratory therapist he knew, or in the hospital library pacing anxiously. As for Sky, the last Four heard he was bouncing between different people, checking in on everyone.

He clicked through more anesthesia notes, looked at flow sheets for blood products. There wasn’t much to go on, as charting was sparse. What Four did know was that Wild had been obtunded, got mass transfused, had gotten a chest tube, had been intubated, blood was evident in his abdomen, and he had an open femur fracture. He’s been taken to Time’s OR for a ex-lap. Head CT had shown a bleed, and they were monitoring it. That was all the information Legend had told the group when he’d had a moment to spare.

Four’s vocera activated, telling him he had a call from the charge nurse. When he answered, he was told Malon had called and said they’d be finishing up in about thirty minutes and were likely to come up open.

Why was he coming up with his abdomen open? When had they gone from exploratory laparotomy to a full on open abdomen?

Ten minutes later, Malon called back to give report. When Four answered, the first thing he asked was, “How’s he doing? Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Malon said, even though she sounded exhausted. “And he’s… hanging in there. I’ve seen worse, I’ll say that. I’ll give you the full rundown, okay?”

Four listened as Malon gave report, feeling his heart settled into his stomach, which was tying itself in knots. Multiple spots of bleeding, possible compartment syndrome in his abdomen, a likely kidney injury due to compression from the bleeding on some major vessels, a small hematoma in his brain… they’d had to call neurosurgery to do an emergency craniotomy out of overt concern of swelling, given that Wild had apparently had previous head trauma, based on what they saw in the OR.

Open abdomen, craniotomy, ICP monitoring, bleeding, one chest tube… this was a disaster. Four swallowed as he wrote, feeling his hand shake a little as his heart raced. He was not qualified enough to be admitting this. He was not.

But the turnaround on his unit was pretty insane, and he was the most experienced nurse on the unit today. At least Ezlo was charge; he knew he’d be well supported.

This was a nightmare. But Four had dealt with nightmares, and he would deal with this. He wasn’t going to screw up taking care of any patient, but especially his friend.

Sighing, he hung up the phone after thanking Malon, pushing worries for her and Time aside, trying to focus on what he would need, who he should grab to help him, and how he should prep his room.

It was time to get to work.

When everyone arrived from the OR, Four made brief eye contact with Time. He couldn’t read much from the man, who was stone faced, aside from the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. Four got to work quickly, assessing Wild from head to toe as he looked to see what IV medications he was on. A coworker wrote the note while Ezlo helped detangle his lines (the OR always brought up a mess, after all). Time gave an overview of the surgery, and Four listened along as he checked pupils, as he zeroed the arterial line and the ICP monitor, as he listened to lung and heart sounds, as he checked the chest tube and stripped it with his fingers to ensure patency, as he checked peripheral pulses, as he looked at the abdominal dressing to get a baseline in case there was swelling from bleeding later. One of the techs connected the chest tube to wall suction, and Four looked over his drips. Only having levophed at 2 wasn’t terrible, and he was getting a unit of red blood cells, which was in a transfusion set that was y’d to some lactated ringers fluid. He was on propofol for sedation. Another nurse grabbed a blood gas from his arterial line and sent off labs. His foley he had was temp sensing, and Four quickly ascertained that Wild was cold, so he set up the blanket warmer and covered his friend up.

His friend. His friend.

Four shook his head. He had to focus.

As Time left the room, he put a hand on Four’s shoulder, making him freeze. The surgeon didn’t speak, just locking eyes with him. Four wasn’t entirely sure if it was for his own benefit or not. But he had no more time to let his emotions make any decisions for him. He nodded to the doctor, who nodded in return, and then the two went their separate ways.

This was going to be a long day.

[jamietxrtt]

anyway. whump/angst dialogue prompts:

“They’re shaking. I-- I don’t know what to do.”

"Hey, hold still. Let me get it."

“I’m not gonna… whatever you think I’m gonna do. I won’t.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to be like me.”

“Stop being so nice to me. It’s confusing.”

“It’s just a warm washcloth, okay? Nothing scary.”

“Give it to me. I can do it myself.”

"Sometimes I forget... the person I am now."

“You don’t have to hide it.”

“Can you stop looking at me, please?”

"You had to know this was going to happen."

“No, no hospital. We’re just gonna go for a field trip, okay? We’re just going for a drive.”

"Don't you know how to take it on the chin?"

"And why-- why should I trust you with this? Why would I?"

“You don’t remember? That’s alright. You were pretty out of it.”

“We’re going to the hospital. It’s not an argument.”

“You don’t deserve it. You never did.”

“If this ‘isn’t that bad’, then what the hell is your definition of ‘bad’?”

“Stop. I— I can’t go any further.”

“It’s alright. You’re alright. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“Can you just cooperate for once in your life?”

“Your hands are freezing.”

“You should be apologizing to X, not to me.”

“You’re not the only one going through something, you know.”

“I’m not stupid. I know what this means.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi ! I was wondering if you have more spirit Halloween planned ?

You are a blessing to this small fandom, thank you.

Oh, you bet I have a bunch of Spirit Halloween in the works and in my notes. It's recently grown on me just because I recently discovered my bee favorite dynamic for them.

✨️ Childhood Friends/Rivals ✨️ and there is also 🎉 Bruce had a fat crush on Danny as a Teen/Kid 🎉

It's hilarious to me.

[fist-of-vengeance]

thinking about how essentially every relationship john locke formed in the early seasons of lost has completely disintegrated by the time of his death.

of course there's his relationship with jack, which starts tense but manageable and culminates in jack pointing a gun at john's head and pulling the trigger. but even his smaller, less narratively prominent relationships either implode or drift apart. he bonds with walt in season one but then walt leaves the island, which is itself a severing of their bond since it was mainly based on being the only two people who wanted to stay. still, he goes and visits walt off the island so this is probably john's most successful relationship. I dont think i need to explain how he fucked up with boone, "the sacrifice that the island demanded." charlie viewed john as a mentor and claimed to trust him more than anyone on the island, but after the events of fire and water, that trust is destroyed and charlie despises him. at the same time we get john bonding with claire and having a pseudo-paternal dynamic with her, but their closeness basically drops off the face of the earth as he gets less and less involved with the other survivors.

his arc in the series is essentially a gradual distancing from everyone around him. it starts when he abandons hunting (providing for the others) in favor of trying to get the hatch open (it's extremely clear his primary motive isn't any survival applications but getting answers to the mystery). when they do open the hatch, he spends more and more time inside, underground, cut off from other people. he spends more and more time interacting with ben, a human mystery box that he's obsessed with cracking even if it gets him killed. he follows the proverbial white rabbit deeper down the hole and leaves his connection to humanity behind. the island and its mysteries become more important to john than anything or anyone else.

then in season three we get him claiming to go undercover with the others only to unceremoniously tell sawyer that he's actually going to join them. and it doesn't feel shocking, it feels inevitable. because john has spent the entire series becoming less and less connected with the people he arrived with. in that sense he actually makes a fascinating foil to juliet, who is introduced as one of the others and yet never really fits, she's increasingly sympathetic and kind in a way the rest of them aren't, her redemption arc feels so natural that she actually starts referring to her old people as "the others" like she's been one of the crash survivors from the beginning. her and john basically have inverse arcs, which is probably accidental but very neat.

in season five john tries to convince everyone to go back to the island, and fails spectacularly. and of course he does, because he was so consumed by obsession that he stopped maintaining his relationships, and in many cases actively alienated people (this is also basically what happened with helen) and now he can't wrap his head around why they're all so hostile to him. i am forever obsessed with the scene where he confronts kate and she brutally calls him out for wanting to return to the island because he doesn't love anyone. it actually struck me on rewatch how well the two of them got along in season one, and how badly their relationship has degraded by this point. john repeatedly casts aside interpersonal relationships in favor of his obsession with destiny, so when said destiny actually involves persuading the people he once shunned, he's at a loss. this is because john treats purpose as a supplement for connection, destiny as an alternative to love.

as an aside, this aspect of john's character kinda ties into my opinion that several lost characters can be read as allegorically neurdivergent under a certain lens. i know this was absolutely not intended, but as an adhd former gifted kid who struggles socially, there is something uncomfortably familiar about a character who allows their relationships to burn around them because of a single-minded obsession, especially as a result of being promised the fickle status of "special."

tl/dr: john locke is a doomed idiot and i love him

[spicemaidenfic]

aesthetic post

[iboatedhere]

Thank you @onthewaytosomewhere @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @thesleepyskipper @lemonlyman-dotcom @jmagnabo92 for the tags!

—

Alex shrugs and Pez heaves a sigh before he reaches out to gently grasp Alex’s chin, guiding him so he can see that Henry has found his way out of the restroom and found himself a dance partner.

There is a respectable amount of distance between him and the woman he’s dancing—or swaying awkwardly side to side—with. They're more talking than dancing, really—or at least she is, making big, broad gestures with her hands while Henry nods along, content to listen.

“He’s a prince,” Alex says as he pushes Pez’s hand away.

“Yes,” Pez answers slowly. “I am well aware.”

“And I’m not,” Alex continues, “and even if I were, do you really think Her Majesty would allow it?”

—

Tagging: @liminalmemories21 @sunshineacd @cha-melodius @beautifulhigh @maxbegone @cricketnationrise @bitbybitwrites @porcelainmortal @henryspearl