#testing the waters with this!

[ebodebo]

my bestie @lavenderdaisychain got me hooked on the pitt and yk i love nothing more than sexualizing an old man, BUT this is pure ER angst i fear.

(cw: talks of children dying)

-

You come into the ER after having been out.

In a fucking kindergarten classroom.

Saw three kids die, one in your arms.

It never got easier.

Especially with children.

Anyone who says it does is a liar.

Or a heartless fuck.

You trudge into the ER, surgical gown soaked in blood.

Eyes bloodshot and hands shaking.

Dr. Langdon is perched on the triage desk, who you presume is antagonizing Nurse Evans with his “wicked sense of humor.”

You don’t care.

You can’t even fucking think straight.

You need your husband.

Now.

“Where—where is he?” Your voice is timid, and you tremble when approaching the desk.

“He’s suturing up a patient in…” Evans turns to look at you, eyes widening at the sight of you. “Are you alright?” She asks, voice offering slight comfort.

You shake your head, lips pursing as tears spill down your cheeks. “No. I, I need to see him,” you begin. “Can you, can you tell him I’ll be in the, the lounge?” You sniffle through your words and, by some miracle, finish your sentence.

“Of course, honey,” Evans says sympathetically.

“I’ll tell him if I see him,” Dr. Langdon voices, attempting to offer you a little comfort.

You nod, your head lulling as you turn around slowly, feet magically carrying you to the lounge.

You sink to the floor behind a trash can, head in your hands. 

The wet blood spreads across your face, and you want to scream. 

You quietly sob instead.

And you sit on that cold, sheet vinyl flooring for what feels like ages until you hear the door gently open.

“Honey,” Dr. Robinavitch says into the air, unsure of where you are, closing the door behind him.

He looks down at the floor, where blood splatters lay sporadic and random, leading to behind the trashcan.

Following the splatters, he wanders to the trashcan, eyes fixating on you, head in your knees as you heave silently.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he coaxes, moving to sit next to you, hand reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear; all he sees is fresh blood on your skin. “Are you bleeding?” His voice is noticeably concerned.

“They were just ki, kids,” you say in a hushed voice. “They didn’t even know how to subtract.” Your voice is quavering, cracking.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, hand brushing against your arm. “I know.”

You look up at him, eyes fatigued and raw. “I, I don’t know what to do,” you stumble over your words. “Their blood is on my hands.”

While their blood was literally coating your skin, a haunting reminder of what happened.

You also felt heavy guilt for not being able to save them.

“I saw the file,” he begins. “Internal bleeding, organ damage, blown spinal cord,” he grabs your hand, holding it tightly as he stares into your eyes. “Even the best doctor in the world couldn’t have saved them.”

You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop your brain from being riddled with guilt and what-ifs.

“I just…” You trail off, more tears spilling onto your cheeks. “The parents screamed at me. Said it was my fault.”

“Their kids died. They’re hurting,” he delicately says, squeezing your hand. “Whatever doctor was there would have gotten the end of that,” he murmurs.

You nod along, pursing your lips. “It doesn’t hurt any less,” you murmur.

“No. It doesn’t,” he agrees.

“The, the blood is cold,” you speak softly, with a frown.

He tips his head back, eyes narrowing in sympathy. “Can I clean you?”

You nod lightly. 

He helps you stand and moves you to a chair to sit as he quietly moves to grab some gauze and some diluted bleach solution to gently clean the blood off your face.

“There’s my girl,” he mutters, wiping off the majority of the blood covering your face.

Your lip quips slightly before the anxiety claws up your brain. “I still feel like shit, Mike,” your voice is just above a whisper.

“Yeah. It happens,” he moves over your nose, collecting the last remnant of the blood.

“Does it ever get easier? Do you ever not feel like shit?” Your voice carries some desperation.

“Truth or bullshit?” He asks, tipping his head towards you.

You think for a moment. “Bullshit.”

He nods and lets out a short, dry laugh. “We get over everything and never feel like the assholes.”

You release an airy laugh. “Okay, now the truth.”

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose. “You never get over the things you see. The things you do. But, you have to keep moving,” he stands, tossing the used gauze in a hazard bin. “Because for those three kids, ten need help too,” he shrugs. “You have to be okay with seeing people not walk, but then turn around and be happy for the people that do,” he sits back on the chair.

“It is nice to have someone with so much experience. Been in the field a long time when I haven’t,” you give him a half smile. 

“Christ. You make me sound like such a pervert. Just going after a young woman,” he lets out an amused laugh.

"I guess I am pretty spry," you jest, the shared humor lightening the mood. "I'm sure my youthful stride intimidates you."

He rolls his eyes playfully, a wide grin plastered on his face.

You tilt your head to the side. "You should probably head out, huh?" You sink into the plastic chair. "Your pager has been going off since you came in," you begin before you smile at him. "Someone other than me needs their handsome ER doctor."

He smiles lightly. "If you need me, I'll stay," his tone was earnest. 

You shake your head. "I'll be fine. Go save some lives, doc." The respect in your voice is palpable.

He nods, standing before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Shift ends at 10," he begins moving towards the door as his pager blares. "Wanna grab food from that Chinese place you like?" 

You nod, chewing your lip. "Sounds good to me." As the door closes behind him, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of relief and worry.

He pulls the door open, standing halfway in and halfway out.

"I love you," he says zealously. 

"I love you too," you say back with equal passion, the depth of your feelings evident in your voice.

Then, he goes straight back into the fray.

You smile to yourself because you couldn't have picked a better man.

He was able to de-escalate situations and escalate them on your behalf. 

He loved you perfectly.

-

author's note: i need this man.

[egophiliac]

sorry guys, you're like twenty feet from shore, you're basically dead already.

(also I choose to believe that Malleus just spends the rest of the event with ham on his face. it's better that way.)

(seriously, I can't wait for this poor couple to excitedly get all dressed up in their wedding best and embark on the most romantic day of their lives, only to suddenly have Malleus Draconia pop up out of nowhere, covered in ham and Grim spit, and scream "BOAT! BOAT! LA LA LA" while gently misting them with a dinky little novelty water gun...in the name of LOVE)

(this event is amazing)

(RIP Grim though)

[alienssstufff]

gem warmup

Bonus doodle I did earlier before solidifying this one

[salmonlyster]

please dont take this too seriously

[drrba]

🎣🛹💼⛓️

[bbbbbbbbatman]

I think it'd be funny if the identity reveal was super anticlimactic. Clark has an interview scheduled with Bruce Wayne about some new project or initiative the company is doing and he walks into Bruce's office and sits down and through a combination of sounds/smells/matching injuries/whatever just immediately recognizes him as Batman and is so surprised he can't contain his reaction and he's just like "Batman...?"

And Bruce loses the Brucie Wayne posture immediately, rolls his eyes and just says, unsurprised and a bit condescending, "Superman."

And then they just sit there in silence, staring at each other, Clark very confused and Bruce clearly annoyed at how quickly Superman recognized him. And when it becomes clear Bruce isn't going to say anything further, Clark looks down at his notes where he has some questions written down and, without knowing what else to do, just awkwardly starts with the first question.

The following interview is one of the strangest he's ever done. Bruce gives some very typical Brucie Wayne answers but all completely deadpan, hardly any inflection. He's also clearly grumpy the entire time. Aside from Bruce not acting like Brucie Wayne, there is no further mention or acknowledgement of their superhero identities. Clark goes back to Metropolis in a daze and still isn't convinced that the whole thing wasn't a fever dream.

[radiance1]

You know the drill, Cultists summoning the Ghost King and all that except, the Justice League isn't there to stop them.

They expected something terrifying, something otherworldly, something whose very presence demanded respect.

What they got, however...

They succeeded in summoning the Ghost King, but instead of the terrifying king they expected they got...

A giant man in a pink, frilly princess dress.

Then the Justice League busted down the door.

---

For the record, Pariah Dark would like to admit that, one. He looked very good in this dress the baby half-ghost had picked out for and somehow convinced him into wearing. And two.

Those -what were they called again? - Justice League fellows look very inviting to fight and possibly add to his dominion.

[archerinventive]

Testing. Testing.

With the faire and festival season in full swing, I've been trying out new configurations on my sword and shield combo.

This was my first run with this previse setup, so the beach surrounded by water, and with the crazy talented Ashmo_fire as my safety seemed like a great place for some trial and error.

There are still a few modifications to be made before my next public show at the upcoming Revenge of the Dragon event, but I'm really excited to keep pushing the boundaries of my flow.

Stay safe out there, and please don't try this at home unless you are a trained professional.

I hope you all have a splendid week. :)

[sparrowlucero]

dr who is (apparently) redesigning this turtle from the classic series to be just a green human elf lady instead and twitter is eating it up because "no one would take the show seriously otherwise" and "the audience isn't able to empathize with something that doesn't look human". another fascinating data point in the psychology of doctor who fans.

[colibriart]

[tinyfantasminha]

living burger meat

[cafefiorentini]

Hmm? Where'd your friend go?

[vaguely-concerned]

the strength it must have taken for illario to not immediately go full 'lmao since when have you even had a kiss hello lucanis' sibling violence mode during the café talk. inspirational. rook and lucanis really were doing all that right in front of his salad huh

[pulgarcito-perro]

Get Curlya'd dickweed! /aff💕

[Outfit inspo below]

Both are from pinterest.

[maizeyart]

hello tumblr it’s been a while since i posted here :3

[chamerionwrites]

Need to invent a word for the specific unpleasant experience that is (1) someone making the assumption that you are one of The Ingroup (2) and, therefore, a safe person for them to vent their most absolutely rancid opinions to while expecting zero pushback