#part 1 of In sickness

[awkward-fink]

In times of sickness - Captain John Price

„John, could you lend me a hand over here? I could really use some – John?” You slowly bully your way into the house again, your arms fully laden with grocery bags. Normally your husband would have already materialized at the door at the first sounds of you coming back from the market, would have taken your bags and helped you put them away, but today he wasn’t even at the door, you couldn’t even him walking the old wooden stairs.

Furrowing your brows, you set down the first haul of bags on the kitchen table, which was halfway cleared from breakfast items and the bad feeling in your gut only intensified. Your husband had begged off your Saturday market run, against his very nature, citing tiredness and wanting to go sleep for another hour. But this had been three hours ago.

“John?” You cautiously call up the stairs, but there is no reaction. With hurried steps you go up the stairs and towards your shared bedroom, opening the door and slipping into the darkness right behind. Seems as if your husband didn’t even open the blackout-curtains. It was stifling inside the bedroom, a sweet scent lingering in the air.

And there your husband was, in bed and buried underneath his own and your blanket, forehead sweat slicked and breathing even louder than his normal relaxed snoring. Now you were worried.

“John? Love?” You whisper softly, taking a few steps closer, but your husband doesn’t even move, doesn’t even twitch as your voice reaches his ears. With nearly silent steps and only the light shining through the barely open door, you creep closer to your husband’s bedside, reaching out to put the back of your hand against his forehead. Instantly the heat hits you hard, sweat clinging to your skin as you draw your hand back again. A fever, a high one. Damn.

“Oh Honey…” You murmur under your breath, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses onto his temple, watching his brows furrow and then relax some. Your husband isn’t sick often, but when he is, its thankfully over in a few days. But those days that he is sick, you prefer to stay in right beside him.

“Don’t worry Love, I am going to take good care of you.”

---------------------------------

Captain John Price doesn’t get sick, never. He has too much to do to become sick, chores and work and house improvements for example.

So no, that man really doesn’t have the time nor the free time capacity to be sick.

But when he does, he is down for good. Thankfully only for a few days, but those days are hard. On him and you.

He won’t move much, doesn’t want to eat much. He doesn’t want to be a burden on you and just wants to sleep and sweat that sickness right out.

He doesn’t like you getting to close in that time, you could get ill and he really doesn’t want you to fall ill as well, he would feel so bad about it

Would much rather you be ill, and he can care about you every second of a day with soft cuddles and self-made soup than he be ill and you doing the same for him

Double standards all the way

Thankfully doesn’t have the man-flu and won’t be dying anytime soon.

Will be back to normal at the latest 4 days after falling into bed like a log, will take a self-indulgent shower (best is with you under the water as well) of at least 15 minutes to feel like a new man again

That man. I swear. This man will hide sickness and illness if he can get away with it.

[artsyannierose]

Angel blatantly tells Husk when he needs to bang nobody can tell me otherwise

but that one time husk tells Angel he’s horny

oh that one time…

[mellxncollie]

Sophus Helle, Gilgamesh — tablet X, line 55 Dead Boy Detectives (2024) — season 01, episode 07

[ghostlakan]

no feeling is final

[arttsuka]

Based on somewhat real events

I spent way too much time drawing this...

But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you

A continuation (kinda)

[shiroselia]

I have just finished the section with the garden party. And I have so, so many thoughts.

First of all, I'm so glad I'm reading the light novel because that section with Jinshi after Maomao and Gaoshun discuss the poisoned soup was Sexy. I love Jinshi so much what a fucking loser <3

Second of all. POLITICS. I LOVE POLITICS. I'm deliberately spoiled on a decent amount of things because I'm terrible with biological relations and keeping track of family trees so I know ehm. most things about the royal family so to speak. But all of that is already starting to be really interesting.

What I give more of a fuck about though is just how much lady-in-waiting politics there is. Like we're introduced from the VERY moment we meet Gyokuyou that she was "too few" ladies in waiting and that it's honestly a little bit obscene for her to only have 5 with Maomao. BUT EVERY SINGLE TIME. SHE'S PROVEN RIGHT TO HAVE THAT FEW. It shows how intelligent Gyokuyou is, how aware she is of her own position, and the position a lady-in-waiting is in. AND it immediately prepares us for just how. downright cruel a lot of the others are.

It's honestly a bit jarring how genuinely nice and honest and inherently good-natured about their job Gyokuyou's crowd is when we see Lihua's ladies-in-waiting almost kill her. How Lishu's food-tester intentionally give her food she is allergic to because. it's fun to humiliate a child I suppose. Like I don't know the contrast is stark, it's obvious, and it's supposed to be. And it's Fantastic.

Honestly I cannot emphasize enough how good this series is about discussing feminism and womanhood. The politics of women of all walks of life, especially the specific challenges women of high status that should "have it all worked out for them" face. It's so fucking good actually. It really is that fucking easy huh.

[dont-you-call-him-baby]

no cause what do you MEAN nico was so stressed the entire abu dhabi 2016 weekend all he could eat was frosties. frosties the cereal that lewis and nico bring up at every chance and very obviously associate with one another?????

[snowlymint]

Favorite Flower

In game I chose the poppies to match him (I personally like roses), but for the sake of this comic I put buttercups cause of what Cove says… LIKE🥺🥺🥺dang... bro

[martiansodas-blog]

imagine seeing the girl who sang “vaginoplasty” get best supporting actress after you took 6 months of singing and acting lessons (just for the auditions) and learned how to sing opera.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Street Rat: Chaggie - Aladdin AU

STOP! THIEF!

Vaggie: *running theough the streets of Pride with a small mob on her tail, hood drawn, and mask up* Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Mobster Boss: I'm gonna sheer your clit off for stealing from me, you little cunt!

Vaggie: Oh, so I have time then! You'd have to find the fucking thing first! *scales the nearest building easily and starts running along rooftops*

Mobster Boss: Don't just fucking stand there! Get her!

Goons: *scramble to find a way up to the roof*

Vaggie: And like that, I'm in the clear- WHOA!!!! *dodges a swinging hammer aimed at her head and speeds the other direction* Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Goon 1: She's over here!

Vaggie: *parkour jumps onto the next building and starts shuffling down the wall when a hand reaches out and pulls her inside* Shit!

Angel: For fuck sakes, Vags! Get in here!

Goons: *look down to the alley below* Where'd she go?! Where'd she go?!

Goon 2: Uh.... that way! *starts running the opposite direction with the rest following*

Vaggie: *exhales heavily* Thanks, Angel.

Angel: Psh! Don't thank me. Thank the girls for letting me hold you in here.

Vaggie: *eye widens and she looks around the room at all the girls in various stages of undress with a blush* Uhhh..... Hello, ladies. Um... thank you for letting Angel help me out.

Girls: *huff and go about their business*

Angel: Yeah, they're not a fan of broke ass bitches and bastards.

Vaggie: I can see that.... Oh, by the way. Here. *plops a wad of Hellbucks into Angel's hand* That should cover the rest of what I owe you.

Angel: Daaaaaaamn, Vagina. You really risked your neck for this haul, didn't you?

Vaggie: Vaggie... *shrugs* Better in the hands of those who need it instead of some greedy mob boss who just uses it as a spicy fleshlight.

Angel: *thumbs through the wad of cash with a smirk* Awwww, yeah. Gotta love musky money~ Well, thanks for the "donation"! So, what other trouble are ya getting into these days, Vagina?

Vaggie: For fuck sakes, it's Vaggie and you know it.... and that's fucking disgusting. I'm just trying to stay alive on the streets. You know that.

Angel: Well, there's a big festival going on in the middle of town today! Lots of schmucks with loose change for easy pickins if you catch my drift.~

Vaggie: ....What's the festival for?

Angel: Eh. Some prince or something coming to try and sway the Princess into marrying him. Doubt it's gonna work.

Vaggie: *scoffs with a snort* Not if those demon goats have anything to say about it.

Meanwhile:

Charlie: I am NOT meeting with Prince Seviathan!

Lucifer: *sweating* Come on, sweetie. Just talk to him a little. He traveled all the way from Envy to see you.

Charlie: *huffs and crosses her arms* How could you expect me to even consider him as a possible suitor when he's such an arrogant idiot! He's a jerk to literally everyone, Dad!

Lucifer: Oh, I'm sure he's gotten better since his early teens, baby.

*trumpets herald Seviathan's approach*

Lucifer: Just..... try to talk to him. *glances at Razzle and Dazzle* And YOU TWO be on your best behavior!

Razzle & Dazzle: *hooves tuck behind their backs as they sit up at attention* Baaa!/Baaap!

Lucifer: Good! *sighs* I'll be downstairs to greet him. *leaves*

Charlie: *arms still crossed* ......You two didn't actually agree to that, right?

Razzle & Dazzle: *hold up one hoof each that has their toes crossed*

Charlie: Good boys!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

they are ignoring my big beautiful pathetic himbo wife and his cute little platypus tail that he has for some tank part reason im too dumb to understand why

[solsta23]

One of my biggest (and I’m sure most commonly shared) fantasies is being chased through the woods, specifically for me it’s being chased by someone who kidnapped me and is making me play some sick version of hide n seek.

If I manage to hide before time runs out, they’ll let me go, but if they find me before time runs out…(CW: blood, cnc)

“Found you!”, They’d announce, a sick satisfaction in their voice as if they’d found the last egg in the Easter hunt. My heart pounded deep in my chest, blood rushing in my ears as my chest moved rapidly up and down in erratic movements, the frosty night air biting at my lungs and making my eyes water from the sharp pain, the same pain radiating from the various cuts on my legs from the thick shrubbery surrounding us.

The pain kept me awake, made me oh so painfully aware of what was about to happen- looking up helplessly at the person who had been tormenting me for a week? weeks? I couldn’t remember, it honestly felt like months.

“Aww don’t look so upset baby, it’s not like you really stood a chance against me”, They told me, the faux pity in their voice continuing to make the burn under my skin worse as my eyes watered. “No reason to get yourself so worked up”.

They didn’t mean that, not one bit.

Seeing me worked up was their favorite sight (aside from me being under them), and I swore underneath their mask I could feel them smiling- knew they were smiling at me, smiling at the way I was shaking, my lack of proper clothing not helping (tank top and shorts was all they permitted me to wear, if anything at all) and how I was physically trying to bite back tears. I would never admit it out loud, but a part of my pride felt more hurt I lost than not escaping.

“Now cmon pup lets- oh dear”.

I didn’t give them time to finish, managing to pick up whatever strength I had left and getting up on my feet to run- one final attempt to get away.

‘Maybe I could lose them in the trees, they can’t know this place that well right? Just keep running don’t stop and don’t look back I can maybe slip through and find a road- there’s a road around here right? right?? Or-’

Before I knew it I was pinned to the ground, the dirt permeating my eyes and nose as I was shoved down, small rocks threatening to break through my skin and an all too familiar heavy weight on top of me.

“Now pup, what was that supposed to be?”, My tormentor laughed, pinning one of my arms to my back and straddling my back. “Seriously you made it what? 50 feet? I commend your effort- but seriously what made you think that was smart?”.

“G-get off of me!”, I screamed, wiggling like a fish on a line as struggled beneath them. My free hand clawed at the dirt, trying to grab onto anything to free myself, ignoring the stabbing pains that spreads up my arm like wildfire, flailing and kicking my legs out to throw them off- anything to be free and all of it for nought.

They scoffed, barely even breaking a sweat to hold me down, “Pup this is cute and all- but you know you already lost right?”.

“I don’t care! Just shut up and get the hell off of me you fucking psycho!”, I shrieked, hating how I could feel the tears being to stream down my face. I was so tired and frustrated I didn’t care what I said anymore.

“I hate you! I’m not your pup or your baby you sicko!”, I cursed, feeling lightheaded. In my anger filled rant I barely noticed that they hadn’t tried to interrupt me, hadn’t tried to say anything or even make a sound. Just let me keep ranting and hanging myself with my own tongue.

“I hate you! I hate you and this stupid game, you’ve done nothing but play out your sick fantasy with me you fucking loner freak- ah!”.

Before I knew it my face meet the dirt again, a sharp pain in the back of my skull as a hand threaded through my curls and forced me face down. At that moment I realized I messed up, my body giving up on me as I felt my kidnapper sigh, their grip on my pinned arm tightening to the point I felt it would break- making me whimper. My tears stained the dirt as I felt blood trickle in my mouth, my lip split from being forcefully shoved.

A silence passed by for a brief moment, the wind picking up as I felt my heart pound, and at that moment I all but froze as a voice cut through the air.

“…You really don’t know when to shut the fuck up do you, pup?”.

There is like…more to this so I’ll post a part 2 tmrw because this was getting too long guys 😞😞 but hope you like this (I’m just a feral lesbian who needs to be hunted down)

[mega-banette]

you know what. if we’re imagining Fox as being 17-19 then offering her french toast was actually a genius move on the Bizzies’ part. because from experience the number 1 way to get a teenager to trust you is to give them free food

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I was probably going to mention this on that post I wrote about the social dance episodes of The Nanny and Frasier, but going to dance classes has given me so many interesting insights, and one of them is the lie --we may call it imprecision, if we want to be precise :P-- that in order to dance well you need to relax.

Because that's not really it. Even from the most basic technical standpoint, dancing depends hugely on things like balance and precision, which you cannot really produce if you are relaxed, really.

What they mean by relaxation is actually that you need to un-stiffen in order to acquire elasticity. And elasticity in action is a form of tension, just not the kind of tension where all the movement stems from you as a motor, and you have a vice grip on. This becomes even more complicated if it is a couples dance, because the tension involved in leading is different from the one involved in following.

In any case I've been thinking about this a lot in the context of my thesis writing. I've always been a very tight, concise academic writer. I'm very used by method to only start when I have a clear scheme in mind not only of the general structure of what I'm writing, but of each part too. That's my only way of reaching flow in writing --I'm writing one section but my mind is already in the next section and is bringing them both to a neat connection. This my advisor with great kindness and elegance calls the metaphysical drive, but tbh with all of you, it's just being a stiff, white knucked gripping writer. And that's just not a viable way of writing something of the length and complexity of even an honors thesis.

(Amusingly, I did write 8 pages of introduction back in December, which advisor called excellent ,in a matter of a few days, which probably gave him the absolutely wrong impression about my normal writing speed. Hence his comments about me sending him 6 more pages whenever I have them, no matter how unpolished. He probably thinks I spend a lot of time polishing before I send. No, siree, my brain just doesn't conceptualize the first draft. I WILL stare at the page for 5 minutes then write two lines. Repeat ad infinitum. Yes, I'm working 15-60 minutes a day on my thesis. That does NOT translate to the reasonable number of words you'd expect from that time.)

So what I'm really musing and grasping after is... what is the writing equivalent to the elastic tension of dancing? Because ultimately when people advice me to "enjoy the process" and to "loosen up", they don't mean that I'll achieve flow when I relax (though they might think that that's what they mean), but when I finally acquire elasticity. The problem is that, in dancing, you have a dance teacher that models the elastic tension of dancing for you, that can even physically demonstrate and show you with actual touch what it means. I don't think there's such a thing for writing, not in any sense that is comparable. I guess part of the process of thesis directing is creating the sort of feedback loop of writing that gives you a mind opposite the way dancing gives you a body opposite, but of course the process is much less intuitive. A thesis director can correct your style, can also give you pointers as to how to cross some rivers and fill some potholes, but they cannot really model for you the skill of writing as a process.

[anjasitdown]

got so scared with that heinous panel of Yoru kissing Denji, really thought a) he's going to get puked at, b) his tongue will get cut off, or c) something equally vile or worse like turning him into a weapon at that moment

[starreduste]

⊹°˖જ⁀➴˖°. 𓆩♡𓆪 l o v e w a g o n 𓆩♡𓆪 ⊹°˖જ⁀➴.°˖

`💌✧* ♡ ❤︎ ♡ ❤︎ ♡

Originally had the idea to make an all pink Speedwagon to represent myself with -- but he quickly ended up becoming yet another AU version of him (which at this point, I feel like I have WAAAy too many,,, lmao ♡).

Anyways, this Speedwagon is a whole lot more susceptible to becoming lovesick than most (and that's saying a lot, for the guy who canonically dedicated the whole rest of his life and career to taking good care of one, singular, other man's entire family, but go off-).

He's also a hopeless romantic, incredibly sappy/emotional, and has the potential to exhibit some yandere-like behaviors -- if you're into that sort of thing.

That's about all I have for now, but I love him...

Don't you?~

`💌✧* ♡ ❤︎ ♡ ❤︎ ♡