#I’ve been so sick lately

[robot-carl]

Me be sick on the holy day? On Friday the 13th? When there are spooky things to do? Disrespectful.

[reaxlette]

Sick days

[adhdandcomics]

perhaps the most important question i’ve ever asked:

does anyone have tips for people trying to stop being chronically late to everything in the world that aren’t weirdly judgmental and aggressive or flat out lies

[anothersuperstition]

like five commissions would solve so many of my problems right now …. 🌀you want to commission me🌀…. 🌀you want to look at my pinned post and you want to commission me sooooo bad🌀…….

a few recent commissions ⬇️

been loving leaning into more illustration/poster work and would love to do more!!

[goldensunset]

TOP JOBS GEN ZOOMERS WANT

•npc

•endangered species

•bearer of the curse

•ibuprofen offerer

•visitorrrrr

•flop post self-reblogger

•bard

•college dropout

•anon hate receiver

•cat in a classical painting

•bog body

[wiklm]

mmmvery questionable doodles of @/ghostofreach117’s diluc bc i’m SO!!!!!! bored and don’t know what to draw :(

[forestwhore18]

Hey bro, your wings are looking so sick tonight lmao. Yeah, they’re really growing in well. What was that bro? You need help preening the ones in the back? Of course I’ll help you man, that’s what bros do for each other. Whoa… your wingspan is pretty massive dude… You must get crazy high off the ground, right? …Yeah…That’s so fucking sick… No yeah don’t worry, I’m organizing them and making sure they’re all going in the same direction. Yeah man, I got you.

….

… Not to be gay but your wings are so beautiful, bro

[noneofchar]

Photographs of blue jays: majestic, adorable, straight from a Disney movie

Real life blue jays: fucking assholes, bigger than expected.

[mrspockify]

He loves me.

[hopelessromantic5]

I thought it would be fitting to post a sick-fic snippet, considering the upper-respiratory infection I’ve had for the past week has been kicking my ass.

So this is a little Bucky taking care of sick Buck fic.

Thank you for reading.

Gale went to sleep at Thorpe Abbots.

When his eyes shot open, he was in complete darkness. The only sounds in the room were the soft even breaths of his fellow officers.

Something was balled up in Gale’s stomach. This must’ve been what woke him.

God he hadn’t felt real nausea like this since he was a kid.

It’s alright. He tells himself. Just lie still and it will go away. Just calm down. Breathe, in and out. Calm yourself. It’s fine. It’ll go away.

Another roll of pain and discomfort had him up on his feet and bolting out the door before he could think twice.

He just made it outside behind the building before the contents of his stomach emptied into the grass.

Gale leaned against the bricks, heaving, tears streaming down his face.

God, how he hated it. The lack of control, the inability to stop it. Forced to endure until it’s over.

He felt himself drop to the ground, curling into his own body, trying to slow his breathing. Trying to get rid of that awful scratchy feeling in the back of his throat.

He blindly wiped at his face with the bottom of his tshirt, hoping he hadn’t been loud or interrupted anyone’s sleep.

It reminded him too much of the terrible nights of his childhood, fresh bruises already blackening around his cheek, under his ribs, the pain swirling behind his eyelids causing the sickness before little Gale could get it under control.

“Buck?” A voice called out, whispering, but still too loud for the dead of night.

Gale didn’t have the energy to respond.

Footsteps grew near.

“Buck! Hey,” a body crouched near him, gentle hands settling on his shoulders, like a blanket.

When Gale didn’t lift his head immediately, Bucky, softly, barely touching him, placed his rough hand on Gale’s cheek, calling the other man to meet his eyes.

When John felt the wetness of tears under his palm, his brows furrowed further in concern, if that were possible.

“Hey, doll, what’s the matter?” He whispered.

Gale must’ve been really really tired. The term of endearment didn’t seem out of place, it didn’t jolt his system the way it would in any other instance, it just seemed right.

As if he were expecting John to call him that.

A second hand moved, so Buck’s face was effectively caged in by John’s grasp. It was only then he realized the heat Gale’s skin was radiating.

“You’re burning up, Gale. We need to get you back into bed.”

Gale finally lifted himself from his hiding place, meeting John’s eyes. He’d never seen that kind of worry there before.

“You called me Gale.” He mumbled before he could think about it.

John huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“Because I knew it would get you to pay attention.” He stands, and gently places one of Buck’s arms around his own broad shoulders.

“I can walk.” He mumbled, yet disproving his own point when he practically slumped into John with all his body weight, tucking his face into his neck. Gale huffed, wanting to be embarrassed, but finding he was rather annoyed at relying on John for yet another thing. Relying on anyone for anything is bad enough, but John doesn’t need a burden like him. He should be free, like a bird.

Gale is beginning to think, in the only rational part of his mind left, that there may be something wrong with him.

Maybe he’d been poisoned.

A snort followed his poor attempt at being right,

“Sure, doll. If you say so.”

Bucky practically carried him all the way back inside, he smelled like fresh air and lucky strikes with just a hint of something simply titled ‘John’, it could never be recreated, Buck knows.

Once settled under his blankets, warm and content, John smiles softly at him.

“Get some rest, Gale.”

“Thank you, John.” He whispered, watching the silhouette of the other man freeze and the continue his journey back to his bunk, without looking back.

A sad, pathetic sigh escaped him before he drifted off into an awful, fitful sleep.

When he woke again, he was sweating, and it was bright enough in the room to blind him when his eyes creaked opened.

Then he caught onto the silence of his surroundings. No quiet murmurs of morning. No shuffling feet.

Daylight.

Silence.

Oh God, the meeting, the mission.

“Oh, fuck.” He says before he can remember he isn’t supposed to.

He’s up and getting dressed before he can even breathe.

He’s late. He’s so incredibly late, the captain is going to have his ass.

Oh, no.

“Whoa, whoa.” A hand on his chest settles his rushed movements. “Slow your roll there, cowboy.” Bucky just walked through the door, holding, what looks like, soup in a cup?

“Bucky, I’m late. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be helping Curt with flight check?” Gale is confused as to why either one of them are still here talking, and why no one woke him up.

A small smile appeared on John’s face, stilling Gale once again.

“What’s with the face?”

Bucky shook his head,

“Leave it to you to be deathly ill and still be worried about flight check.”

Gale looks at him like he’s crazy, which makes it even funnier.

“I’m not sick, John.”

“Tell that to your hundred and four degree fever.”

“What-how do you-“ Buck stopped, huffing in a breath. He probably looks ridiculous, one pant leg on and no shirt, with a sock halfway rolled up his foot. “Why are you here, then? If I’m sick, you could catch it. I shouldn’t even be in here, I should stay in the med tent.” He’s babbling.

Bucky has been watching him with wide eyes. He’s never seen Gale so ruffled, and stuttering.

He’s never seen him so not put-together.

He loves it. He’s drinking up the sight like water, though he does feel a pinch of guilt and hurt that Gale had to be sick in order for him to see this side of him.

“It’s a cold, Buck. Your body just needs some rest and it’s forcing you to get it, the only way it knows how.” Bucky turned back to something that he had discarded on his bed.

“You are not late, so you can stop having a panic attack and lay back down. I already told the Captain that you were sick. It’s not contagious. And I’m not leaving you here, sick and alone.”

For once, Gale went without a fuss.

He was exhausted.

“I brought you some pills. Doc said they should help.” John said, offhand.

The words send Gale spinning into a future he’d never imagined before. One where he and Bucky are living in a nice humble house with a few acres out back. John brings home the paper from town and they gossip about the neighbors while they drink coffee in the morning, huddled together on the porch swing. Maybe a good hound at their feet.

“Buck?” That warm hand returned to his face, this time feeling his forehead.

“Jesus, Buck, I’ve never felt skin this hot.”

“Careful,” Gale huffed a laugh. “You’re gonna give a fella an ego too big for his boots.”

John seemed to think this was funny too. Fond amusement colored his eyes, clear skies on a moonlit night.

“Maybe you could use a little ego, Saint Cleven. You’re too humble.” The hand that had previously taken his temperature by touch, carded its fingers through Gale’s hair. Sweaty blond locks that had fallen over his forehead were pushed back, cool air on his face more prevalent. It felt good while at the same time, sent shivers down his spine.

[fishyfarms]

August family lore anyone? I’m too tired to go too in depth about it right now (though if anyone is curious to learn more please feel free to send asks!!! Would love to chat abt them) but tldr is that Jack (August’s dad) left August with her grandpa for him to raise after his wife and her mother died. Years later he ends up marrying one of his coworkers and starts a family with her but then his new wife finds out he has a daughter he just completely abandoned and demands for her to be included. It’s a hot mess situation and everyone’s miserable! Yay!

[codgod]

anyways this is where i’m at

[mithrilhearts]

I haven’t shared my baking journey lately, so now here we are with some of the cupcakes I’ve made in the past few weeks!

Blackberry, s’mores, mixed box: hot chocolate, caramel chocolate, peanut butter chocolate, mint chocolate, snickerdoodle, lemon raspberry!

[chibishortdeath]

Disgusting creature (begins sobbing)

[fairyofshampgyu]

Crying over gyu :(☹️ I love him😭

[peaches2217]

Y’ever have really strong feelings about something and wanna write it all out but nothing’s coming to you? Just strong but unspecific emotions?

Mareach… good fluffies… happy feelings… wanna write… but write WHAT???