#after uhhhhhh

[cousinspeciallagent]

on the one hand it’s very important to acknowledge the difficult and important work that goes into getting a Masters in Library and Information Science. It is a valuable post-graduate degree that is generally undervalued.

on the other hand calling it a Masters in Library Science or treating it like a genuinely needed and useful degree in the field immediately outs you as someone who has never worked in libraries before.

actual things library ppl call the degree include:

- mlis (most common, library ppl love acronyms)

- library school (every seasoned librarian i’ve spoken to calls it this. “oh you’re in library school!”)

- library science degree (straight and to the point)

- in school (don’t even get into it)

- masters in libraries (messy, incorrect, i love it)

[lopsidedghoul]

“do you wanna take horse riding lessons?”

mother i’m terrified of horses, they look weird and they are SCARY

[jitterbugbear]

malanya the horse god - mixed media

[stellewriites]

very much inspired by a post i’ll link at the bottom to avoid spoilers

i love putting john price in situations

simon had known price for over a decade, had served under him as his lieutenant for a good portion of it, so he was pretty confident in answering yes when asked if he thought he knew the captain well.

he could acknowledge he wasn’t as close as say laswell may have been, but he knew that price’s wife was not common knowledge around the base either.

he’d pieced it together over the years on missions; catching the odd comment shared over coms; the glint of a ring around his neck; the odd teased mention of her when they sat in the rec room after barely scraping through a tough spot, when price needed the company as well as the silence ghost offered before returning to the real world.

it was how simon knew the sergeants were staying when price let slip about her one day. because he doesn’t let anything slip, wouldn’t, especially about her.

“got anyone at home waiting for you, sir?” gaz asked as he sighed impatiently over the coms, hour three of silently waiting and watching had finally gotten to him.

“i do,” price said simply, not offering any further information. ghost could imagine the amusement tugging at his daft facial hair as price refused to continue without prompting and simon smiled under his mask when he heard johnny scoff next to him before chiming in.

“c’mon sir, give us a wee bit more’n that,” he weedled. “when’d ya meet? is she nice?”

john hummed, the sound low and crackly over the radio in their ears. “met when i moved.”

“oh, a real meet-cute type thing, eh?” gaz teased.

john ignored him. “wouldn’t say she’s nice, soap. she’s more than that. ‘nice’ is your aunt’s new wallpaper; you have permission to shoot me point blank if i start calling her nice.”

“what is she then?” ghost piped up. this was the chattiest john had ever been on the subject and he was going to take advantage.

john went silent for long enough that the three men thought that was it, the end to their sharing session and knowing more about their captain outside of work. simon chewed the inside of his cheek.

“she’s devoted,” john whispered finally before his voice firmed. “heads up, team, movement 2 o’clock. anyone got eyes on the target?”

—

it was months later when she was brought up again, the team thinking. nothing of it until price’s phone pinged in his pocket enough times to pique johnny’s interest as they prepped to leave.

“that the wife, sir?” he asked.

john huffed, didn’t bother checking his phone as he turned and shook his head. “she’s clingy, but she doesn’t bother me when i’m at work.”

“how’d you know?” gaz asked. “could be an emergency.”

“‘n’ how’d you get her to agree tae tha’?” soap followed up quickly, having had issues with his own flings petering out when he was distant and slow to reply.

“been with her long enough now it’s routine,” john said simply. he checked his weapons before heading for the exit. “helo in 5, be air ready.”

—

the mission had gone to shit, and they were stuck hidden in a building that looked like it was 10 seconds away from collapsing under a brisk wind when ghost finally felt his patience snap.

it was no one’s fault, but being stuck in another country with no back up and a target on their backs for an extra three weeks wasn’t ideal and johnny’s insistence on playing cards at every opportunity to keep his idle hands and mind busy combined with gaz’s tinny whistling had made for the perfect scenario to grate on simon’s patience quicker than anything else ever had.

“tell us about her. ya wife,” simon asked, his gaze slipping across to john, watching him pick at his nails. his cuticles were red and raw from four days of agitated fidgeting since they’d ran out of cigars and cigarettes. every so often simon caught him pat his empty pocket before he’d remember and huff heavily through his nose like a bull.

john closed his eyes at the mention of his wife and sighed. he started his description without protest or hesitance. “shes soft spoken. christ, you’d hardly know she was there half the time, she’s so quiet. but she’s firm. stands her ground no matter what,” he chuckled. “don’t think i’ve ever won an argument against her.”

kyle laughed and ghost closed his own eyes, trying to picture what he thought the captain’s wife might look like. pretty certainly, but was she tall, plump, did she have an endearing gap between her front teeth, did she keep her hair short or long?

“she’s a bit of a homebody,” john admitted bashfully, unaware of simon’s drifting thoughts. “but i can’t say i mind it.”

“not wanting to leave the bedroom much when yer back?” johnny joked, hissing when ghost punched his thigh.

john just smiled placidly, eyes still closed. his eyebrows pulled down as he gushed, “god she’s gorgeous in red. wears it every time i come home.”

“lucky bastard,” gaz huffed.

“yeah.” john nodded and finally opened his eyes. “yeah, lucky.”

“you’ll be back with her soon, cap,” gaz reassured him when he saw price swallow thickly.

“thanks, gaz. now who’s taking first watch tonight? soap?”

—

john was quiet on the plane ride home, not unusually so, but ghost noticed the difference all the same.

he was pensive perhaps, worried what his wife would say when he finally got home a month later than scheduled, uncontactable the entire time. ghost could understand to a certain degree that john would have more important things on his mind than what his three subordinates were going to do as soon as they stepped foot on home soil, so he didn’t push when john ignored the few threads of conversation thrown his way by their younger sergeants. instead he nodded when john said a quick goodbye as they all parted ways in the airport.

simon could only assume john was the same all the way home in the cab that dropped him outside of his little three bed house.

he didn’t see however how john hesitated at the door to his home that evening. how he gripped the front door keys tightly in his fist, shook as he stared down at his feet instead of letting his eyes drift and catch on the windows, and felt as though he could crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

he finally opened the door when he thought the neighbours might begin to get worried and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as he went.

it wasn’t until he got to the kitchen that he found her.

stood bare foot, silent, eyes wide and pleading, blood seeping - always seeping. would it ever stop? would the blood ever end? - through her white pyjama top, his top that she’d borrowed for the night, and trickling down her bare legs.

her mouth opened and she visibly struggled for breath, but no sound escaped even as her tongue wagged on the floor of her mouth, lapping at the backs of her teeth as all words escaped her.

he swallowed back bile.

“hello, sweetheart,” he choked out. “sorry i’m late.”

the blood pooled at her feet, the panties she wore were seeped a dark purple from the viscus liquid dying the dark blue material and the shirt stuck to her front. john had remembered loving seeing her like this in a morning, had always thought she looked best in as little clothing as possible.

“i know you hate it when work keeps me busy, but it was unexpected. we were caught—“ a high screech, not dissimilar to that of a whistle that only a dog could hear, pierced through his ears and cut his words short. he curled in and covered his ears, but he knew it would do no good, he should’ve known better than to talk about work around her.

not after what had happened last time he got back late after overtime.

tears prickle at his eyes and the sound abruptly stopped. he’d never questioned why it seemed to be only him that could hear her protests, why his neighbours never mentioned a shrill cry every so often from his home. he had always said she was made for him and that had apparently translated literally into the afterlife.

he looked up at her again - it was best not to ignore her he found. it only made her angry.

“it won’t happen again,” he promised wetly. “i did my best to get back as soon as i could, i promise, sweetheart—“ he choked on his words, biting back a sob. she watched unblinkingly, silent except for the wet squelch of her feet on the laminate.

they both knew he wasn’t apologising for being late this time. he got like this sometimes, when her agonised face and mangled body was too much to bear after a long mission and the guilt bore down like a physical presence.

he couldn’t help but think if he’d gotten home even just an hour earlier he might’ve been able to save her, to have kept her company instead of leaving her on the floor alone and cold, maybe he could have caught the bastards that had hurt her while he was still travelling back from deployment after agreeing to hang back and finish his paperwork there and then instead of emailing it across.

he reached a shaking hand forward and blew out a ragged breath when his hand met nothing but frigid air. but when he brought his hand up to his face he could smell the copper tang of his dead wife’s blood on his skin. the stench unwashable, cloying, but if he concentrated hard enough it ever so faintly smelt like the vanilla perfume she used to wear.

“was telling the lads about you, love,” he forced an empty chuckle as he walked around her to the kettle and went through their usual routine. “think they might’ve fallen a little in love, not that i could blame them.”

he ran a hand over his face and gave himself a moment to let the tears fall as his palm hid his eyes. her silence was the worst part of it all, but he could see the glaring red of her in his peripheral when he dropped his hand to the counter.

it wasn’t pretending his wife was still alive if she was right there at his shoulder, was it?

“looks like i’ll need to grab you some more pg tips, sweetheart,” he said and poured the boiling water into two cups, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his wife. “we’re almost out.”

post link

[shadow0-1]

Missed me?

Commission by SiMoon

[sforzesco]

TRY AGAIN LATER

it's like. well. its several things.

(Plutarch's Crassus, trans. Warner)

and also this

(ibid.)

that compliment sounds like an insult, baby.

anyway, there's a fun kind of eroticism in being given everything, in taking things that aren't yours without any real consequence, in climbing towards becoming a Roman Alexander, only for one man to deny you, over and over and over again, at every turn. Sulla tried, Crassus did it better. who would put a butcher in their place? who else knows you well enough to do it? who else can match you step for step like this? doesn't it feel like a kind of intimacy, a kind of—

it's also about the 'even sulla kissed my sword/so you want me on my knees too?' innuendo was too good to pass up. that was actually the first line I wrote, I figured out the rest of this to justify making a comic with it

and finally! the sword line is referencing/playing off of Lucan's Pharsalia a little bit because it fucks hard

(Lucan's Pharsalia, trans. Jane Wilson Joyce)

EDIT: oh, and that's a public domain anatomical illustration of a heart. you know how it is with love and hate.

[themadcapmathematician]

The US is like hey if you wanna drive somewhere it's 15 min but you'll spend 40 min and $20 parking. Oh you take the bus? You'll be there in 3 hours. 1.5 hrs of that is walking lol. lmfao even. Oh youre walking? Just walking there?? Asphalt is a pvp enabled zone and the sidewalk is width of a single grape. We have removed all of the benches for your convenience. See you there in 28 hours

[randyjadeyaoi]

has this been done before

[honeybyte]

Monstro, coming to a theater near you!

dm if you're interested in a physical copy💫

[sticcmann]

in the good timeline silco vander and singed are a throuple I stand by this

[footballshowrot]

come closer i am just a regular scene😄 UH OH! changes your brain chemistry

[mikakuna]

catholic jason is like

random: wanna have sex?

jason: sorry i'm waiting until marriage

random: you literally kill people

jason: and? that's between me and my god

[igbylicious]

me: hm fandom is always so exhausting for me even tho it's fun :( i gotta figure out a way to be in this space so it costs less energy & it won't constantly exacerbate my chronic bullshit :(

me later: okay so reviving my old ateez blog @wooyoungslipmole to reblog gifsets, art, memes etc etc works really well! (/blatant plug-in) i can easily mute the blog's notifs to manage the overstim better and i'm not flooded w/ small, flashing images in my writing blog's activity anymore so it's less of a strain to look at! yay, progress!

me, who should have stopped there: huh, maybe then a separate blog for fic recs is also smart 🤔

me: and it's also a nice excuse to finally create an actual tagging system so ppl can search recs by members! and by genre! and whether it's reader insert or not! and oneshots or series! maybe i should tag different types of au's too? 🤔🤔

me: AND OH WHAT IF, WHAT IF, what if i go through all my old recs and queue them up for the new blog so they're neatly gathered in one place, AND i rotate them by member so there's a nice even spread in content!!! and i should also spread out the writers too so they don't get spammed too much. yes yes let's do this 👍 hmm wait i've got like 80 fics in my queue now and i'm not sure if i have any recs left for certain members... i knew i'd have more for some than for others but this... hm... maybe i should tally which members are in the remaining 90 fic so i know what the exact disparity is 🤔 oh dang i read a LOT more San fic than i realised lol oop okay so all i gotta do is dig through my tumblr tbr for the other members and read massive amounts of fic for them so i can keep my queue nice and balanced! yeah lately i've felt too blocked to read anything on tumblr, that's true, but having a deadline will make all the difference to kick my brain back into gear, i'm sure 👍 brute-forcing it will have no negative consequences 👍 let's start wi— wait what do you mean it's 2am already? why is my brain all frazzled and foggy???

me: ...okay maybe, just maybe, it's not fandom that's exhausting.........

[cyberscratch]

Rattman

[hplonesomeart]

I mean this is basically how Mr. Puzzles Clubhouse went right? In a nutshell? Okay well maybe minus the cartoonishly exaggerated Puzzles here but come on still kinda close maybe?

Also bonus added silly notes I made during the sketching process I guess lol

[kirby-the-gorb]