Something I Noticed About Obi-Wan Is That He Almost Never Makes Promises.

Probably gonna use this later. Thanks!

Whump dialogue prompts:

“Ok, _______, do you think you can stand? We need to get out of here, so just lean on me, alright? I know it hurts, but we need to hurry.”

“Just try to breathe, ok? I know it’s hard, but try for me, ok? Breathe!”

“Everything’s going to be alright, ok? We found you, and we’re going to get you out of here, ________. We’re going to get you home now, ok?”

“Alright, I’m going to carry you to the car now, ok? No, don’t even try to argue, you really shouldn’t put weight on that leg, so I’m carrying you.”

“Just relax, ______. I know it hurts, but help will be here soon.”

“It’s alright, just hold on for a few more minutes, _______. The worst is over, just a few minutes and you can finally rest, ok? It’s going to be fine, just keep holding on.”

Oh wow, Nutty, that one was a bit scary! Poor Virg and everyone else! :( Amazing writing as always! How you manage 4000 words in a day will always astound and inspire me.

I really hope your migraines gets better. I suffer from them myself and know exactly how horrible they are, so I’m completely sympathizing with the need to write while wallowing in self pity.

Sick

Now I had two migraines today, but either side of them, I managed to churn out over 4000 words of completed sickfic. Why I wrote sickfic, I’m not sure, but I think it was sparked mainly by this post. Not any of the prompts in particular, but more a whole feel of them.

Also, I plead predictable and anyone who knows me and what I write can probably predict the entire plot, but I plead sick myself and poke my tongue out you anyway. So don’t expect amazing writing.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight​ for reading through and being the wonderful person she is ::hugs her tight::

All the warnings on this. I know we are in pandemic times and this fic involves a nasty bug and hospital scenes. While the content is lightish and not graphic or anything, it does focus on a flu-like bug. So, if that topic might trigger you or hurt you in anyway, do not read. I don’t know why I wrote sickfic in the middle of a pandemic. Maybe I’m just an idiot, but it happened and I wanted to warn you just in case.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

It started with Alan.

It often started with Alan. Of course, the poor kid blamed himself for what happened, but nobody else did.

Alan came home to the Island with a snotty nose. Within the day he had developed a fever and was down for the count.

Virgil, back from three consecutive rescues, ordered him to bed and went about monitoring him disguised as pandering his little brother.

They weren’t concerned, it was a cold, nothing more.

Until the next day when his fever spiked and Scott, who had been up all night with Tracy Industries business plus two of the same rescues Virgil had been entangled in the previous day, was found in the kitchen blowing his nose.

Virgil, who had taken five minutes for a bathroom break and a drink before going back to Alan - who he had dragged into the infirmary by this time - caught Scott red-nosed and glared at him until he joined Virgil with their little brother.

Within the hour, Scott was flat on his back with a fever climbing faster than Alan’s.

Virgil may have been heard to mention the words ‘overwork’ and ‘idiot’ in the same sentence, but considering they were both said with love and a bucket of worry, Scott let him have it.

Grandma, of course, was on the case, liaising with some mainland counterparts and the bug was quickly narrowed down the a very contagious flu…

That was merrily infecting half of Alan’s school mates.

Alan, being the youngest of them, was tough, and though his temperature stayed up and he felt absolutely miserable, he eventually stabilised and moved onto the hack up a lung stage which merely involved turning your body inside out trying to get the bug out of your system.

Not much sleep was being had by anyone at this point.

But Scott was older, overworked, and low on defences for all of the above and went down hard.

Keep reading

Layla is absolutely incredible and I would die for her.

I have a fabulous costume in mind

LIGHTSABERS

Also, what is Tom holding?

Tom Holland, Jacob Batalon, and Zendaya having a lightsaber battle.

GET THAT PIKACHU MAN AD AWAY FROM ME AND MY DASHBOARD I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE

Thunderbirds Playlist!

I spent waaay too many hours on this but I put together a playlist of songs that remind me of Thunderbirds and the bros! Prepare for a whiplash of different genres cause I got a little out of hand XD

Gotta try this! 

You mentioned a pattern? Will it be available later on?

Thunderknits Are Go!

YAY … now I can share a picture of something I have been itching to show you for a couple of weeks but couldn’t cos they were a surprise for @scribbles97 … pattern coming soon(ish) when I get all my shorthand and alternate colourings fully written down (and once tester @soniabigcheese lets me know if it’s worked for her too lol).

Let’s go Thunderfam!!

Reblog if you're a Thundernerd!

I’m just curious to see just how big our tiny, yet awesome fandom is! TOS TaG or both! I don’t mind!

5+1 Scott and Alan (Carrying) Part 3

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

-3-

“Alan!”

Silence.

“Mum!?”

No noise at all.

“Where are you?”

Nothing. Just dreadful white snow everywhere.

Scott never thought his youngest brother would ever be in danger. He was the oldest child, he protected his younger siblings.

That was how it worked, he thought frantically. That’s how it should be.

But Alan, only five years old, was missing along with his mother in the devastating aftermath of the avalanche.

Jeff was frantically looking for Lucille and Alan. John was busy irritating the rescue personnel, trying to tell them exactly how to treat Virgil. Virgil, who had been caught up in the slide downhill but was thankfully found after only two hours, cold and terrified with a broken leg. Scott was on his own. Each and every person along the slope were searching for signs of the fourteen people who’d been caught in the avalanche, but they’d been out here for well over five hours now. The instrument that scanned for life had broken ages ago, the wires inside freezing despite the manufacturing claims. Scott had been trying to ignore it, but the chances they’d find anyone else alive were steadily dwindling.

A distressed cry from behind a snow mound suddenly dragged him out of his thoughts. He sprinted over-

-to see his father hunched over, crying. A stiff, cold form was half-buried in the snow, a smaller form huddled in Jeff’s arms. His knees gave out at the sight, and he dropped beside Jeff. Scott stared at his mother, shock setting in. Her eyes were tight shut, and the life had already faded from her cheeks. Scott knew immediately that she was gone, never to come back to them.

He tore his eyes away to focus on his father. He’d only ever seen his dad cry once when Grandpa Tracy had died. This was the same, yet so much different.

Switching his gaze again to the surrounding snow, Scott blinked back his own tears. He had to be strong. For his dad. For Virgil, john, and Gordon, For his mum, For little Alan, who was still miss-

Scott’s eyes widened as he realised what was in his dad’s arms. Or rather, who. There, huddled into his dad’s chest, clad in the bright blue of his snow jacket, was Alan. His nose and cheeks were red, the skin around it deathly pale, tears and blond hair frozen his face. He didn’t move.

But even as Scott watched, a small puff of warm breath escaped from Alan’s mouth, hanging in the air or a second before dissipating.

He was alive.

Perhaps it was the shock, perhaps he had gone mad, but Scott nearly laughed out loud in relief. The world was cruel enough to take his mother from him, yet kind enough to leave his baby brother. Reaching forwards, Scott gently slid his arms under Alan’s knees and shoulders and lifted the youngest of his family from his unresponsive father, cuddling his brother tight. Alan’s lips were blue. Scott unzipped his own coats and drew then around him, wincing at the stab of frigid air. The little kid would stay warm until the rescue personnel arrived.

With a final glance at his mother and sobbing father, Scott stood and turned away to hide the scene from his youngest brother.

“I got you, Allie,” he whispered, “and I’m not letting go.”

-------

Part 4

Virgil: Hey hey hey! If you two have BEEF, get out of my sight before you MILK the joke for all it’s worth.

Thunderbird two was sat parked in a field waiting for Scott to finish up with the local authorities before. Gordon was sat on the module ramp swinging his legs over the side looking very deep in thought.

“Hey Virgil?”

Virgil knew the silence had been too good to last, “uh-huh” whilst continuing to stow the last pieces of equipment that weren't quite stacked to his personal standards. If he had been paying more attention he would have seen the warning signs, noticed the glint in his brothers eye, his only excuse was that it had been a long day…..

“What happens when a cow gets exhausted?”

Virgil frowned, “why?” and he moved to stand behind his brother and try and see if he could spot the tired cow that prompted this question. All the while not really knowing what the signs of exhaustion looked like in a cow.

“It COW-lapses!” Gordon grinned. Virgil continued to scan the surrounding scenery for a few seconds more looking for the bovine in question before the awful joke filtered into his consciousness and he groaned. He rubbed at his tired face with one hand, cursing himself for walking straight into that lame attempt at humour. He grit his teeth as he realised there was not other way out of this situation. He let his hand drop, and mustering all the serious professionalism he could, stared very intently at his jokester companion.

“Well, Gordon, that would certainly make it hard to MOO-ve them” He managed to keep his expression completely neutral, only due to extreme self control.

Gordon spluttered and toppled onto his back from his seated perch, his legs still swinging over the edge, “You win, this round goes to you!” he wheezed from his sprawled position. He allowed himself to be helped up to his feet by a convenient strong hand. “Although I’m sure I’m still winning”

“You’re not actually keeping score?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, that's what Johns for.” and he deftly tapped his comms

John's hologramme aimed a mid range glare, “15 to 9 in your favour Gordon, now please go away the bureaucracy is still going strong, unlike Scotts patience.” and his image blinked out with no further fanfare.

The glint was back in Gordons eye but Virgil was ready for it this time, “Well that ought to keep him aMOO-used for a while then!”

“16 to 9” John's disembodied voice cut in without even missing a beat.

“Honestly Gordon, your jokes are so bad they're almost legen-DAIRY”

“16 to 9.5, that was weak Virg.” John's flat critique was cutting. Virgil huffed and stomped back into the module, leaving Gordon halfheartedly trying to suppress his laughter.