#fk me up

[collophora]

Fics rec of the week, and especially if you like well-written Wrecker, is the entire work of @electrikworm on AO3 In order:

The Batch have a terrible day

Human Shield

A peaceful moment

(But go read the others too)

[pamouche]

rules: create a poll with five of your all-time favourite onscreen kisses,setting any standard for qualification you choose. then tag more friends to join🧡

thank you @scrumptiousstuffs for the tag<333 it took me less time than i thought lol

1. vee x mark (love mechanics)

2. nubsib x gene (lovely writer)

3. sand x ray (only friends)

4. mhok x day (last twilight)

5. yang x phumjai (love in translation)

tagging (no pressure): @ijzermansdriesen @onzeziggy @if-music-be-the-food-of-love @clairedaring @zhouxiangs @sherrymagic and anyone else who wants to try :)

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

I hope MC knows how iconic she is in this event for being like "No I want him to be a little bit fucked up actually" in Comte's story because GIRL SAME. S A M E

[boozles]

Something I find interesting is that I haven’t seen any backlash against Gun. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him to be hassled, but it’s strange to me that Tay is the one I’m seeing being targeted. People are acting like New has been treated poorly, but no one (that I can see) has said anything about Off or Gun. All vitriol has been aimed at Tay and I don’t think that’s fair at all.

(Just so I’m clear, NO ONE should be getting hate, but I’m bitter that I am still seeing idiots comment things like “sorry I will only support New now” or “how could you do this to New” and “shame on you for lying to us” and I am so confused? No one has lied about anything?! 4 men in their 30s are comfortable enough with each other that they are affectionate with one another - why the hell is one of them getting hate for that?!)

(Also, shout out to Mek for stepping in and informing everyone that he too kisses his friends on the mouth! He said it’s something culturally normal to them, and I love him for that.)

(ALSO!!! TayNew mentioned kissing Nanon - let me see that please - and it reminded me of the hate Nonnie got for the picture she posted where she is kissing Nanon on the mouth and people attacked her for it. For kissing her big brother. Sorry if it’s weird for some, but kissing is not always sexual. I kiss my friends, my brother, my parents…cheeks and lips. It’s normal for so many of us. If you’re my pal and you’re cool with it, I will kiss you too!)

[pfhwrittes]

Price as Dr. Cox is REALLY doing it for me P…

-✨♥️🗡

-PS How are you healing??

hi ✨♥️🗡! i've missed you!

i'm healing up great! i'd like to be able to move my arms a little bit more but i'm not too sore. (hey that rhymed!)

oooooh i know. grizzled, competent, and direct dr price is definitely doing things for me too.

the thought of him taking gaz aside in the break room and telling him to "draw a line under it. wherever you need it to be." after gaz struggles to let go of a patient.

the way he'd be so so careful with patients he knows needs a delicate touch and incredibly caustic to arseholes that are wasting his time.

the way he'd enjoy working with dr farah karim at every opportunity and let her take control over a patient's care because she was his best and brightest intern and now she's a fantastic doctor in her own right.

the way he'd work seamlessly with dr simon riley who he knows has a soft spot for kids despite the way he scares the hell out of the parents.

the way he'd rein in johnny's firecracker nature and try to direct it somewhere productive.

the way he'd hide out on the roof smoking with kate and shooting the shit, her complaining about nik's eccentricities and him asking about how things are with the missus.

price dodging nikolai's attempts at getting him nominated for an award because he considers it "a load of bloody nonsense, nik".

price being respectful of alex because alex refers to him as "captain" which is a title he hasn't heard in years.

and an added semi-angsty thought under the cut (tw for alcoholism and ptsd mention)

price who manages his worst habit by keeping an unopened bottle of scotch in one of the cabinets in his kitchen at home and a 2 year sobriety chip in his pocket so that when things seem to be at their most hopeless he can put both on the counter and stare at them both until he finally makes a decision for which he'll reach for to see him through.

yeah. whew. i have plenty of price as dr cox thoughts rattling around up here.

[miniscule-meow]

Isabell and the Lads CH 2: The Healing Process (2.4)

Writing Masterpost First Part | Last Part | Next Part Word Count: ~2.1k Warnings: Angst, blood mention, injury mention, nightmares, talk of dehumanization

---

Isabell lays down on the tiny couch, letting herself sink into the cushions. Just for a moment, she thinks,, resting her head on the plush pillow and hugging her arms around herself. I can be cozy for a little while. She watches the movie play with bleary eyes, and her blinks begin to grow longer and longer.

She’s not going to fall asleep here.

She couldn’t possibly let herself fall asleep here.

Not in the middle of a gigantic room, displayed in the center of a coffee table with two humans lingering nearby. That’s not going to happen. No chance.

She’s just going to rest her eyes for one second.

---

She floats in an endless expanse of nothing. Well, no, she’s not floating. She’s still solidly grounded, her leg anchors her to this table, taking away all her autonomy, her ability to move, to run, to escape. From her grounded position, the ‘endless expanse of nothing’ extends out all around her. The dark open space seems to stretch on forever. This only punctuates the fact that she is entirely other. Ever since she was caught- rescued? – Ever since she’s been out here in the open, with the humans, fully aware of her, she has been painfully, unavoidably aware that she does not belong in this world. Even with the best intentions at the heart of the humans around her, this world was simply not made for her. At best all she could ever hope to be is insignificant. A mild nuisance for anyone kind enough to pity her, perhaps. Of course, she is already well acquainted with what ‘at worst’ looks like for someone of her kind. It’s cages, it’s dehumanization, it’s the act of endlessly being observed. Placed in a plastic box, on a shelf, to be a curiosity for all those who pass by.

She briefly registers Zeke’s form kneeling over her. She manages to blink up at him with hazy eyes, not entirely convinced that she’s not just dreaming this. He seems to move in slow motion as he reaches forward to drape a blanket over her.

Shards of thoughts float to the forefront of her mind as she shifts to pull the blanket close around her.

Warm.

Soft.

Smells nice.

Her mind dances on the blade’s edge of consciousness. Dipping into the void of sleep, and yet remaining vaguely aware of the waking world around her, that horrible, never-ending openness. The vulnerability of her position never leaves the back of her mind. Somewhere inside her there should be instincts, alarms going off. There should be some semblance of self-preservation to pump her with more adrenaline, to keep her going, to push her just a little further. There should be. But it would seem as though her supply has run dry, and then some. Her body aches, her emotions are sapped, she has to face it, she’s already grasping at straws here. She’s already pushed her body well beyond the point of exhaustion. The consequence of that is that now, her body has relinquished the reigns from the part of her brain that holds her rational thought, the part of her that is responsible for keeping her safe, out of the hands of humans. Instead, the control is finally given over to sleep. Once sleep claims her, it digs its claws in deep.

And it is not kind when it lets her go.

Isabell wakes with a start, some unknowable amount of time later. In that split second before her mind catches up to her, a heavy fear pounces on her.

Where am I?

The room is dark. It’s massive. It’s a space for humans, and she’s in the open.

No, no, no.

As soon as she attempts to move, her whole body is wracked with pain. Her leg throbs, her ribs ache. There’s something tangled around her, ensnaring her.

Stuck. Trapped. Captured.

Despite great protest from every inch of her, she sits up. If she had just one second to breathe and take in her surroundings with a clear mind, she maybe could calm herself down. She could assure herself that she is safe.

But she doesn’t get that luxury. Out of the corner of her eye an impossibly large shadow rises over her. A human. Its eyes glint in the darkness and she knows that it is focused right on her.

She’s hurt, she’s vulnerable, out in the open, and she’s been spotted.  She does the only thing that sounds rational to her, she panics.

Isabell shoots to her feet, whirling around to face her captor. That’s her intention at least, unfortunately, she’s still tangled in the blanket. When she goes to correct herself, she places too much weight on her wounded leg. Her leg is of course tired of being pushed beyond its capabilities. Her leg is of course tired of her increasingly stubborn refusal of rest. So, her leg makes its own executive decision in that moment. It buckles underneath her weight, making her cry out with the shock of pain it delivers. Her leg demands rest and rest it will get. Even now, even one arm’s length away from the giant looming above her.

She crumples to the ground in a tangled heap, betrayed by her own body. The shadowy monstrosity leans forward, closing the distance between them. Leg or no leg, she’s not getting swept up into a massive hand today. She scrambles, kicking herself free from the blanket, and shoving herself backwards. She foolishly attempts to secure her footing once more. The effort is fruitless, and painful. Her leg simply refuses to cooperate.

“Hey,” the giant’s voice rumbling through her does little to calm her nerves.

She continues attempting to abscond. Her mind is focused on creating any kind of distance between herself and the looming creature. So focused in fact that she doesn’t see that she’s running out of table, until she’s already falling. She lets out a sharp yelp as she’s pulled over the edge. The human curses and instantly there’s a cacophony of sound and movement. The human lurches forward, much faster than a being that large should reasonably be able to move. One massive hand slaps down against the face of the table, the other swoops in beneath her. She lands flat against the center of his palm, knocking the wind out of her, but leaving her otherwise unharmed. Suddenly, she feels as if she’s falling in the opposite direction as she’s yanked through the air, entirely out of her control. His warm, leathery fingers curl around her securely. She can’t possibly just sit here and wait for him to squeeze the life out of her, she needs to act, now.

She has no weapon, she can’t escape. She twists in his grasp and sinks her teeth into the nearest digit until a hot metallic taste filters into her mouth.

The giant swears again, jerking his hand away sending her tumbling into his other hand. Before she can even think about defending herself, the human is ready for her. He clamps his massive thumb down across her middle, pinning her back against his fingers. The side of his thumb digs firmly into her bruised ribs. She sucks in a sharp, pained breath. He stands to his full height and strides across the room.

Isabell’s breathing staggers, her mind flooding with all of the gruesome possibilities of what’s yet to come.

“N-no!” She cries out, her voice breaking with panic, “I-I’m sorry. I’ll be good! I’ll be good, I swear!” She doesn’t want to go in a jar, she doesn’t want to be stuffed in the back of a dark closet without food or water or light for days on end. She doesn’t want to be-

A light clicks on, jerking her fully into the reality of the waking world.

“Stop,” Zeke’s voice is firm. He gazes down at her with wild eyes, his hair tousled, one hand clutched close to his chest.

All at once she realizes where she is, and against all odds, part of her stills at this revelation.

Then all at once she realizes what trouble she caused, and she can feel panic and dread welling up inside her chest all over again.

“I- Zeke, I’m –” she begins stammering out an apology.

“No,” his tone is clipped, “stop.”

Oh, he’s mad. He’s got to be. What is he going to do to her? He’s going to retaliate, humans always do. They only have so much patience, and she bit him. She’s displeased him so many times in the last two days or however long it’s Been. He’s got to be at the end of his rope with her.

He sets his hand down on the coffee table. Releasing his thumb from across her midsection, he tilts his hand so she gently slides off.

“Just… breathe,” he says rising and extending a hand to give her a gesture that very clearly says ‘stay there.’ With that, he walks off down the hall.

She blinks, piecing together the whirlwind she just went on, separating fact from fiction.

Isabell pulls herself onto the couch, gathering her discarded blanket. This doesn’t look like it belongs with the sets of doll clothes and furniture. Zeke must have made this, she realizes. He made me a blanket, and I bit him. A weird sense of guilt burns at the edge of her consciousness. She’s felt a lot of things concerning humans, but guilt was never one of those feelings.

Zeke comes back into the room after clattering around in the kitchen for a moment. When he returns he’s carrying a few things, but she can’t get a good look at what he has. He kneels down beside the coffee table.

“Drink this,” he says, setting a tiny cup down. The bright pink vessel is only slightly oversized for her. They must have gotten that today with all of the doll stuff.

She hesitates for a moment, looking at the cup placed in front of her with a dull suspicion.

“It’s just water,” his tone is flat, impatient. Right, of course, nothing gets past him. Great, now she’s bitten him, and she’s subtly accused him of trying to poison her.

“Sorry,” she obediently drinks the water, not wanting to upset him any more than she already has.

“Do you want to splash some water on your face?” He asks, setting down a small dish. As he reaches forward, she catches that his finger has a small Band-Aid on it now. She tears her eyes away from his hand, feeling that weird sensation of guilt again. She nods numbly and scrubs her face with the cool water placed before her.

“Better?” He asks after she’s dried her face off with a scrap of washcloth. She doesn’t trust her voice, so she just nods. “Here. Try to eat something.” The snack Marcus said he was going to make was resting on a plate close by, she didn’t even notice it before. Zeke slides it over to her. There’s a variety of things on the plate, some peanut butter, a cracker broken up into manageable pieces for her, some cheese, and some small bits of fruit. With a trembling hand, she assembles herself a small snack and nibbles on it cautiously.

Seemingly satisfied, Zeke heaves a long sigh, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He leans his elbow against the table, resting his head on his hand. Her eyes are drawn back to the scattered pictures decorating his arms, his tattoos he called them. Humans are so strange, but she thinks she likes his tattoos. In a strange way, they make him easier to look at. Like, she can focus on this one small part of him, without having to confront the entirety of him.

“I, um, I didn’t know where I was,” she explains sheepishly to the picture of a broken wishbone placed near the middle of his forearm. “I’m, um, I’m fine now,” she adds, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. This isn’t exactly true, she’s jittery, and she hurts everywhere, but the human doesn’t exactly need to know all that. It’s unclear whether or not he buys it or not, but he nods anyway.

“I’m sorry for startling you so badly,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay. Um, thank you for not letting me fall… I’m… sorry that I bit you.” Silence hangs between them. “A-are you… are you going to put me back, um, back in the box?” She stammers the question out, wincing at how small she sounds.

“No. Isabell, of course not,” he says, his voice softening.

[mblue-art]

About the "who would laugh if you fell from the stairs ask" I find it funny that killer would check on you "if he cared enough" lmao.

Like there's an universe where you fell from the stairs and killer just goes "haha welp that was a good laugh" and leaves while you are bleeding and groaning on the floor.

💀 HHELP . but yeah i think i was thinking of a short silly haha where person falls, other person laughs, and that's it

i was probably also considering an asshole killer (who. isn't. close? to me?) that doesn't. care HSHFBXNS a bit extreme now that i think abt it;; 🧍 🧍 🧍

[pheem-may]

[suosgirl]

silly lil post while i work but suo and kiryu would be so MAD at how much i overwork myself mwahahaha but guess what??? hot girls (unfortunately) succumb to capitalism!!! anyways suo would knock me out so that i can finally rest and kiryu would bribe me to take breaks away from my computer

[collophora]

Hi there !!! I wanted to let you know your bad batch art is BEAUTIFUL I'm always happy to see it cross my dash!! Your art style is so pretty and I love the way you draw Tech!!

Do you have anymore sketches of Tech we haven't seen yet? No pressure <3!!! Have a lovely day :DD

Oh my that's so sweet thank you! éAè <3 <3 <3 Hughhhhh well since you ask nicely I dug into my wip folder and found a sketch ^^

[3-aem]

my toxic trait is picking up random hobbies on a whim like today i went shopping for a cardigan but found No cardigan i liked and so i naturally decided that i can just knit one even tho the only thing i have ever knit was a 8” by 3” rectangle in 5th grade that just looked so pathetic-

[chibi-scone]

Still can’t wrap my head around how Izzy shooting Ed was supposed to symbolize him “breaking up with Blackbeard” and have them go through that whole thing at the beginning of the season, to have Izzy be the one who tells Ed to follow what makes him happy, and have Izzy’s whole arc be about who he is without Blackbeard just for the finale to turn around and say that Izzy had to die because he was half of Blackbeard and that Ed couldn’t fully let go of Blackbeard otherwise.

[lusalemaart]

[gunsatthaphan]

I think there'll be angst, heartbreak and betrayal in this 'romcom' 💔 See this 😭

https://x.com/JojoTichakorn/status/1815034510347808775

tbh the more stills & tweets I see the more I'm like is the romcom in the room with us skjgdhdf I have no clue how this is supposed to be a comedy. but I'm ready to be surprised :D

xxx

[coridallasmultipass]

Shit Post venting hour let's go:

Trans Bro/Trans Dirk has endometriosis (*enBROmetriosis, because people are shitty and don't get that guys have it, too), even AFTER getting a hysterectomy, because, unfortunately, sometimes our bodies are just transphobic like that. (True story, bro...) He doesn't get symptoms regularly post-op, but when they hit, they hit like a plane-wreck - it's a huge disaster for one, and it also becomes everyone else's business.

Trans Dave doesn't have endo, but still goes through a lot of pain relievers for normal cramps. He forgot to tell Bro they were out of medicine last time.

Cue Bro stuck hugging the toilet, sick from how much pain he's in as soon as he wakes up, and Dave doesn't hear him call out for healing.

As soon as Dave hears Bro talking about Advil, he immediately remembers his mistake and realizes why Bro's been extra volatile lately (PMS/PMDD/etc).

[raycatz]

fuck this guy, sincerely