#I'm absolutely not qualified for this shit

[desired-misery]

Fandom: Resident Evil (Post-Resident Evil 4 Remake) Character: Piers Nivans, Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfield Rating: 13+ Summary:

As often as Alpha is deployed, you'd think they'd recognize if they were being shot at. But that's the thing about BOWs; they don't tend to be intelligent enough for that.

Within the fog of combat, it takes a while to realize that someone is shooting back. Tags: Mission Fic, BSAA Alpha Team, Miscommunication (but make it millitary), Leon's Unlucky Mission Bullshit, Friendly Fire, Piers POV

Whumptober:  Friendly Fire [ALT], Multiple Whumpees [ALT], Blood Trail [19]

AI-Less Whumptober: Multiple Whumpees [6], Concussion [14], "I'm absolutely not qualified for this shit" [20], Internal Bleeding [28]

@whumptober-archive @ailesswhumptober

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 20 - "I'm absolutely not qualified for this shit."

Tags/CW: hospital setting, blood, chaos

Ryan had gotten so many warnings when he chose to pursue a career in nursing. He was warned it would be hard and thankless work. He was warned that the hours would be brutal in a desperate attempt to make up for the staff shortage. And he was warned that he wouldn't command the same respect as a doctor.

Ryan was ready to face it all.

Or so he thought.

It wasn't his first placement. Hands-on learning was very important, especially so close to graduating, and Ryan had always learned best by simply doing. Nothing could curb his enthusiasm, not even when the seasoned nurse who was supposed to show him around gave him a stern talking about how this was no school trip.

It wasn't his first placement, but it was his first placement in the Emergency Room.

Despite the daunting prospect, they were told that they would be eased into it. Beginning with a tour, showing them what tended to happen where, what the different areas were called, and where to find supplies that they would be undoubtedly ordered to fetch.

"I hope you kids can keep up with the pace, because in here, when you're told to run, you don't run like your life depends on it, you run like dozens of lives depend on it," the nurse in charge said.

Ryan noticed one of the girls in his group notably paling, probably intimidated by the whole speech. He didn't blame her. It sounded like they were headed into a war zone. Yet, when he looked around, it seemed to be mostly sutures, tummy aches, kidney stones, and he could've sworn he heard a patient loudly proclaim they fell on something.

"It'll be okay," he said quietly, giving the pale girl a nudge, "if it's like any of the other placements we'll probably start out doing the simple things; making beds, clerical stuff, I've even mopped floors if the staff shortage was bad enough."

"...I-I don't know how to mop floors!" the girl gasped in response.

"Oh...honey..."

Ryan wasn't sure what else to say. Luckily he didn't have to, as at that point some kind of buzzer went off, startling him and the two other newbies.

"That means we have multiple emergencies incoming!" the nurse in charge said, "you three stick with me, stay close, but don't get in the way!"

And that apparently concluded the tour, plunging them straight into work. The three nursing students felt like little ducklings trying to follow their mother duck whilst being blown all over the place by strong and sudden gusts of wind. Multiple people flocked towards the ambulance bay, and multiple people were shouting orders.

Ryan did his best to lock in, waiting for the nurse in charge to shout orders, knowing he only had to listen to her...until he had no other choice. As soon as the patients were rolled in, the three students were split up. Ryan vaguely caught something about a collision on a nearby junction and more patients being on their way, before he heard his own name and that of one of the doctors.

He located said doctor as he waved him over, and he quickly changed direction to help push the gurney to the right area so the doctor could assess and treat the worst injuries, while Ryan was instructed to stick all kinds of sensors on the poor young woman so they could track her vitals. He had to cut through her shirt and bra, quickly yanking part of the curtain closed for her modesty before pulling the fabric aside and finishing his job.

He relayed the measurements the machines took, to which the doctor decided what to do next and asked for the necessary kits. Fortunately Ryan remembered the kits were near that area, making it so he only had to run a short distance to retrieve the necessary items.

Even though it had started so suddenly, Ryan felt like he was doing quite well. He located his pale-looking fellow student and shot her an encouraging thumbs up while she was hanging a bag of fluids for her patient.

And then it all went to shit.

First, he noticed that his socks had gotten wet. As he looked down he found his patient was bleeding at such an alarming rate onto his shoes that it soaked through the canvas and into his socks. Only then did the machines start beeping in alarm as her blood pressure got dangerously low.

The buzzer for an incoming emergency rang again, the doctor cursing as he and Ryan feverishly tried to locate and plug where the woman was bleeding from. Of course, at that moment, one of the med students on that floor decided to faint, knocking over some equipment that set off another alarm, which forced the doctor to abandon Ryan to make sure that patient wouldn't die as well.

"Just hold pressure!" he said, before disappearing.

"Oh my God..." Ryan quietly said as he looked at the carnage around him, unable to assist anywhere as he was pretty sure his fingers were the only thing keeping his patient from bleeding out, "I'm absolutely not qualified for this shit."

@ailesswhumptober

Masterlist Main account

Ryan's rough awakening. He's more qualified now.

[guinevereslancelot]

hm am i going insane or is it just november

[thedawningofthehour]

Ok I have a lot of questions and I have to break this down into parts.

Actually, on the revealed page of the new comic, you can see Casey jr in one of the panels, and he looks the same as he does in the movie, which would confirm that the deaths of donnie and Raph were actually recent.

Wait, what's going on with the gay laws in china? Last I heard, china was actually tightening their laws regarding anything remotely queer, because of that many danmei (chinese gay genre) productions who already had experience working around censorship were having problems to the point where they didn't know if they could release. Even the genshin impact company was having problems over there, because one of their male characters was too feminine for their standards.

Aw, I got the impression from Casey Jr that he had never met Raph. He was really comfortable with Donnie and April, but much stiffer with Splinter and Raph. I always took that to mean Raph and Splinter either died before he was born or when he was too young to remember much. And you know Raph would have dadded any child that displayed even the slightest need for dadly guidance.

The way I have the order of death plotted out in my own headcanonical world, the death order went: Raph on invasion day -> Bella dying to save Donnie -> Splinter doing something stupid in a 'it needs to be done and it might as well be him' scenario -> Cass doing something unimaginably badass and cool and probably screaming "WITNESS ME" -> Donnie sacrificing his life to take out the Technodrome -> Draxum going on a suicide mission to destroy one of the main three Krangs -> Big Mama and April as we see their bodies at the beginning of the movie.

I will not be amending this whatsoever in light of the canonical material.

No but for real, I kind of enjoyed that the fandom had so much leeway to really do whatever we wanted with the post-apocalypse storyline. And I'm going to admit it now, I don't like Donnie's overalls. I like the ones other people have drawn on him and maybe it's because the sketch we saw was pretty low quality, but it doesn't do anything for me.

I said Chinese attitudes, which...in retrospect, means a lot less than it really should. Jesus Christ, I literally said that on the 35th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre.

My understanding of what goes on in China is-well, for one, it's just not something I'm super informed on, I had literally one semester of world history in high school and we didn't even really get to east Asia, we started with Africa and moved east but got stuck in the Arab world because this was 2011. (use your imagination on what was said there) Literally, everything else was American history with the occasional Ancient Greece unit thrown in. No shit, I am literally Raph, I didn't know the Holy Roman Empire was a separate thing from the original Roman Empire until I was an adult. (I also thought nobody was Jewish anymore until I read 'Are You There God? It's Me Margaret' and realized that the Jews didn't all convert in Jesus' time) And what we did learn about modern China, we learned it through a...very anti-red lens. Which isn't to say communism good and all criticism of China is red scare propaganda, but educating yourself post-indoctrination involves actively challenging and unlearning the shit you were indoctrinated with, which can interfere with actually learning about shit with an open mind.

What was I talking about? Right, gay stuff in China. There's been little victories on that front, but from what I've read they've mostly been pretty performative without real underlying change, like with women's rights in Saudi Arabia. Which is its own problem, but progress is progress? But yeah, the censorship is getting worse. Which is worrisome.

Maybe it's kind of wishful thinking on my part, but I also think a shift in official attitudes would be the most logical thing for China right now. A lot of Chinese people support LGBT rights, and that number is only going to swell as older, more conservative people die off and young people enter adulthood. (and people get exposed to pro-LGBT viewpoints and content and realize homophobia is dumb) And the rest of the world is becoming more and more gay-friendly, the only exceptions really being Russia and a few Islamic states, and, uh. China is not really...endearing itself to the Islamic world right now. We'll leave it at that. It's going to get to a point where the UN is pressuring them and their own people are pressuring them, and either they give in on that issue or it comes to conflict. That's how it works.

I'm hopeful that things will change in China in my lifetime. I'm just very worried about how much blood it will take.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Okay I'm not saying that this semester's students suck ass bc I'm not there to teach them, but isn't it just such a coincidence that the vast majority are failing so miserably and they don't have someone who will tutor them outside of class and go over notes and skills with them, while the previous semesters did have that and the majority passed? Super interesting stuff. Too bad we'll never know if things could've been different if they had just fucking paid me :)

[monster-noises]

Ahahahahaaha love love Love getting Medical Anxiety triggered by over hearing something at work and fucking Finally feeling normal by the end of the work day only to come home and Remember It

Best time

Good vibes

My insides are vibrating at a daaaaangerous frequency and it's Not Helping

[existencebringsonlypain]

howdy geek how’s the gender going

it's funky and weird and I don't totally understand but I'm not a guy so that's cool

[thewritingpossum]

Forgot to mention it but there was a huge debate at my study group the other day about wether or not you could call yourself an historian after getting your bachelor degree and two of my favorite profs were defending opposing views and they were trying to keep it light and funny but you could see that they were getting lowkey heated and for a so-called academic I actually don't do that well with conflicts so I was like haaa mom and dad stop arguing!! T_T but anyway, my one german prof that some have called 'intimidating' went to see me me and my buddy who accidentally started the debate earlier (by joking that he was about to graduate and could finally call himself an historian), put his arms around our shoulders and kindly told us that we could call ourselves historians if we want so I guess that was some nice validation lmao

[frogkeyboard]

i'm about to get a 4.0 this semester for my first all ap schedule GOD BLESSSSS IM GETTING AN A IN AP CALC

[stabbylambchop]

Hey uh

anyone here on Art Fight this year or-

Cuz I'm on there, same name and everything. I'm on Team Vampires.

You can like, add me or whatever...I mean, if you want...

I haven't interacted with anyone on here or even really drawn in a couple months, sweet pulsating spider-christ ...

[theladygazingatemptiness]

me @ me: hoe don't kill this fish tryna be Mother Ocean

[wereh0gz]

I was gonna comment this under a youtube short abt a specific stim (tapping your ears) that reminded me of something from my childhood but I realized I was on youtube and decided I won't risk being emotionally open on that hellhole so I'm posting it here instead

Anyways the video reminded me of when i was in elementary school back when i still lived in Puerto Rico. i got so overwhelmed in one of my classes because all the other kids were being deafeningly loud and i couldn't keep up with the notes (had written two whole whiteboards worth of notes and the teacher was erasing one of the boards to write more)(notes were all fully handwritten, no guided notes packets or anything)(was always made to write ALL OF IT, no shorthands) and then the teacher started using a goddamn WHISTLE to get the kids' attention and shut them up (didn't work, just made more noise which made me more overwhelmed). i burst into tears and started tapping my ears almost unconsciously to try and mitigate the noise since just covering them wasn't enough somehow.

I still do it sometimes when there's too much noise but like. In a less noticeable way i guess? Just kinda rub my ear which gets a similar effect to tapping it. Bc i know it's weird and i was already the weird kid by then so like i can't be More Weird. Y'know. So most of the time i just endure loud noise and try not to get super pissed off or cry instead.

Anyways i'm not saying i'm for real neurodivergent but i am saying that my parents should've done something about my very obvious issues way earlier on instead of just chalking it up to me being "shy" or "sensitive" or "a perfectionist" or whatever the fuck. Bc this incident among other things that happened before and after it were literally big flashing signs that i was Not Normal. But noooo instead they had to leave current me with emotional regulation issues constantly wondering what the fuck is wrong with me

[unpassive-viewer]

Watching breaking in the olympics has been awesome as a former hip hop dancer, but holy shit. For every person who doesn't know how breaking even works and doesn't think it's a sport, there's ten more who are excited about the men's competition, but absolutely ragging on the women's competitors. My head is actually spinning.

If you don't know about breaking, I need to explain some things:

The breakers all know one another already, and all respect each other. This includes between the m&f categories. Nicka (silver medalist - women's) and Phil Wizard (gold medalist - men's) have literally competed as a duo.

The breakers that you think "are better than everyone in the finals" already went through the qualifying trials. They also compete with all the medalists, they also tried out for the olympic teams. They did not make it.

To that end, every battle is its own battle. They may have done poorly in the qualifying trials, but have beaten the now-gold medalists in other competitions. It's not like swimming where Katy Ledecky will pummel everyone else in the race unless she has an exceptionally off day.

Related to point 2 - breaking was born in the Bronx. It was also born in the 1970s. Being mad that the demographics don't reflect who you think should be dancing, or being mad that the dance isn't "in touch with its roots" is like being mad that someone modified the recipe for ginger beef. Some of the guys who were competing today are old enough that they were dancing with the same people who invented the sport. I promise that they have crazy respect for how it began and all of its influences.

Related to point 3 - breaking requires originality. It is a foundational element of the sport to evolve and be creative. It's a sport, but it's also an art form.

Dancing for three rounds in three separate battles is a lot for any dancer. If you think some of them looked like shit toward the end (I disagree, but whatever) it's because they are tired. Not to mention there were heat warnings in Paris! They still have more athletic ability in their left pinky finger than I've ever had in my whole body - and I was someone who also did street dance!

The music wasn't decided ahead of time, but the DJs were playing very very popular breaking songs. All of the competitors already know how they go, so if they were scoring low in musicality, it's not because they panicked not knowing the song.

The athletes have sets made up already, they're not freestyling. They adapt them to the music, but unless they blank in the middle of the competition, they already know which skills they want to show off. (I'm editing to clarify that some of them did freestyle, but for the most part it was after they felt like they'd done what was going to get them points)

I really doubt that anyone on tumblr is going to care, but Instagram users can't read and YouTube is full of bots. I'm so excited that I got to watch my sport in the Olympics, but my lord people cannot behave.

[agender-witchery]

I feel like every post that focuses on and celebrates the sexuality of transfems hyperfixates on gock and like. I get it, the majority of transfems are either pre-op or non-op, and yeah those people are so frequently excluded from even being allowed to celebrate sexuality and need representation because, hey, especially for the pre-op folks, that reassurance that you're desirable is needed. I should know, I used to be pre-op and I fucking hated it. I didn't get that reassurance when I needed it most, and I'm damned happy that people who do need it can get it now.

But now I'm post-op and like, what? I just get to feel even more excluded from that sort of celebration? It's mostly just all encompassing, like it is nearly the totality of what constitutes celebrating trans bodies, with a teeny tiny exception carved out for transmasc bodies which I am absolutely not qualified to have an opinion on, not even gonna try, and damn near nothing for post-op transfems.

The thing that gets me the most is porn. Sure, it contributes to the feeling of unwelcomeness that nearly every post that gets slapped across my dash is about The Gock, but I don't seek that out. I'm not out here looking for text posts about how cool gock is, I haven't had one for 7 years. But I seek out porn. And any time I see porn that depicts transfems, even when that porn isn't fetishizing transness, the thing that defines a transfem is her dick. Aside from literally one instance, I never see a girl with a scar on her abdomen, I never see a cross section of a pussy with no womb, I never see someone with two holes and an estrogen patch. It just isn't there.

And on one hand, it feels like I don't deserve to complain, that I'm lucky to have even gotten to have surgery, but on the other hand, fuck you! I get to complain about shit like this, I get to complain that the overall atmosphere of transfem sexuality necessarily including gock, I get to complain that this shit makes me feel like surgery was a mistake even though if I take a couple hours off social media and think hard about it, I don't have any real regrets, I get to complain that when transfem bodies are celebrated, that almost never seems to include my transfem body. I get to complain that trans representation doesn't represent me.

So fuck it. Neopussy Tuesday.

[fairene]

do it for you / ln4 sneak peek

established r. lando norris x f!reader

warning ⋯ language, 18++ mentioning,minors dni.

a/n ⋯ do it for you is a recent ask that i got that absolutely transitions into the lando!dad series that i've been wanting to create. of course, all of these 'oneshots' can be read separately, but can also fall into a canonical storyline. also--- holy shit!! grace isn't dead!! yes, i know!!! i'm just as shocked as you guys are. but i can feel some groove coming back, but this probably won't be posted fully until the following week. hoping to get it to about 5-6k words before posting!

wc ⋯ 720

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

taglist ⋯

@landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

comment to be added!

[celestialprincesse]

Can we please get realistic hc’s of Cpt.Price ? Dont get me wrong I love the delulu headcanons but if we are being fr these are military men 😭

I actually feel surprisingly qualified to write this? One of my dad's friends was in the SAS, and although he didn't talk much about work (for obvious reasons) he was a really interesting guy.

Firstly, this man drinks like a fish. Will go to the pub with his squamates and return absolutely smashed.

He's away more than he's home, too. Often goes weeks at a time with minimal, if any at all, contact. If he does get the chance to message, it'll be a simple "I'm okay, love you." or "Doing well out here." to put his partner's mind at ease. If he can even manage to get a secure line of communication.

I hope by now that we've all dropped the marble sculpted, washboard abs idea - because no. He eats a lot. He'll clean out a fully stocked fridge in three days, tops.

Realistically, he wants kids, but the dangers of his job are an ever lingering threat, and the thought of leaving his partner as a single parent mortifies him.

He makes a reasonable amount of money in his job, but most of it gets stowed away in a savings account or retirement fund, he's not the type to splash cash on anything that catches his eye.

Yes, he and the 141 are close colleagues, but they spend pretty much all of their time together, when they go their separate ways on leave, he wants to see his friends and family.

He's seen ugly, messed up shit. Killed people. He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to relive it.

He knows he's not a good person in any traditional means, but he's doing what he does best, and what most would never be brave nor strong enough to try.