ill be back every once in a while

I’ve been thinking lately about Taylor’s words from while ago. She said that if she could have a secret power, she would choose healing people. And the truth is she does that every day. She heals illnesses in our mind and heart with simple interaction, tumblr like, DM, comment, releasing new things. She makes us happier, she teaches us how to take care of ourselves, how to fights demons in our heads, she heals our insecurities. I wrote this post once saying, ‘Someday Taylor Swift will hug you really tight and all your broken pieces will come back together’. And when I read people’s stories about meeting her it really feels like her hugs have secret power and you are different, better, happier person afterwards. Thank you for that Taylor.

anonymous asked:

I'm suuuuper sick rn so I'm curious how would the fallout 4 companions react to sole getting sick? I'm sure there's some new viruses in the new world they're not used to.

I hope you feel better soon!!!

Cait: She didn’t know what she was doing and she didn’t hide it. She made them tea once, but actually it was just warm water with literal grass in it. Every time Sole tried to instruct her, she just yelled overtop of them, “I KNOW I KNOW.” 

Curie: She was ON it. She’s has the medical knowhow for most illnesses, so Sole getting sick was no problem. Even though she knew she could take care of them, she still stayed with them at all times with a worried look on her face. 

Codsworth: He’s no stranger to human illnesses. He had taken care of Sole back before the war while they were sick, so this time should be no different. He didn’t realize that illnesses could change too. When Sole didn’t get better quickly, he worried a lot, and had to ask around on what to do. 

Danse: When Sole got sick, you could see the panic on Danse’s face. He never had to deal with sick people, because they just stayed back on the prydwen. He treated them as gentle as he could, and constantly asked if they were alright with what he was doing. 

Deacon: “Don’t worry, IIIIIIII got this.” Deacon acted confident that he could take care of them but failed miserably. Accidentally spilled soup on them, he just kept saying, “it’s fine,” while he cleaned them up. In the end Sole had to yell at him how to actually take care of a sick person. 

Dogmeat: He doesn’t know what to do! Laid next to them until they felt better. 

Gage: He didn’t really worry about them, he knew that they were strong enough to get through it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t do some things to take care of them. When they were asleep, he’d adjust the blankets on top of them, and would sometimes leave food next to them for when they woke up. He got embarrassed when Sole called him out on it. 

Hancock: As soon as Sole started feeling ill, he worried immediately. He wasn’t sure if it could have been radiation poisoning, so he did his best to take care of them. Their symptoms didn’t look like radiation, so he was relieved. Stayed by their side the entire time. 

MacCready: “Okay okay don’t worry, I remember some stuff from when I was a kid….” MacCready checked their temperature by putting his hand on their forehead. “Yep, that’s a fever alright,” he sat down next to them and paused. “So what now…?” He didn’t actually know anything about how to cure ill people, but he did his best. 

Nick: “Hmmmmmm..” Nick gave them a puzzled look. All Sole could do was look up at him, they couldn’t even breathe through their nose at this point. “Hoooow about this,” Nick’s method of trying to help them was really just trial and error. 

Piper: Nervous as heck. She ran around in a panic looking for something to assuage their pain. Sole kept telling her to calm down but she just replied with, “but just LOOK AT YOU.” Eventually she tired herself out from running around, and fell asleep next to them. Piper ended up getting sick too. 

Preston: Preston was a mom. He knew exactly how to take care of them. Whenever Sole tried to get up and do something, he’d tell them to stop and rest. Probably brought them soup with an apron on. 

Strong: “Weak human should rest. Strong look after you.” By ‘look after’ he meant, make sure nothing killed them. 

X6-88: He knew the basics of how to cure human illnesses. He acted calmly but was secretly a little worried about them. They looked awful and it made him feel bad to see them like that. 

anonymous asked:

RFA, V, and Saeran take MC on an Ice Skating date!


  • He thinks it’ll be easy because of how athletic he is.
  • He’s got leg muscle, core strength, and good balance, so it shouldn’t be that hard for him, right?
  • WRONG.
  • He didn’t have as hard as a time as MC and he adapted to the ice fairly quickly, but he still ate shit like five times.
  • His balance helped him out, but his buff thighs can’t save him from the cruel forces of gravity.
  • Nonetheless, he tried to be suave and romantic.
  • Whenever MC would almost fall, he’d practically throw himself at her to prevent it or fall with her. 


  • “Ok MC if we hold hands, we’ll be fine. If one of us falls, we’ll fall together.”
  • Aight, if he would let go of the wall, that might be a good plan.
  • Once he stops being so nervous and lets go of the wall, he’s so good????
  • “Yoosung, you’re sure you’ve never done this before??”
    • Did y’all know that people w bigger butts have a better center of balance? Now u do.
  • After like an hour, he’s skating backwards and only fucking up a little bit.
  • Holding MC’s hands and guiding her along.
  • They were both ready to be crawling on the ice more often than actually skating, but it ended up being hella romantic.


  • She used to ice skate regularly in the winter for a few years, but she was so scared that she’d lost it.
  • After a few minutes of cautious skating, she’s holding hands with MC, encouraging her to do different things, giving her pointers.
  • Jaehee only fell once, and she did that tap dancing thing that they do in the cartoons before she went down.
  • That one fall was enough to leave her with a huge bruise on her back, but she toughed it out and had fun with MC anyways.
  • They took breaks every half hour or so to sit down and maybe enjoy some of the hot chocolate they snuck in.


  • When he falls (which is always), he can’t get up without the wall, so he crawls over to pull himself up.
  • He really struggles. Sometimes, he’ll try to pull himself up but just cling onto the railing with his legs going every which way.
  • Once he can stay upright for more than thirty seconds, he looks like a toddler trying to dance.
  • He’s frantically squatting, sticking his legs out at weird angles, and flinging his his arms about.
  • He says he’s trying to balance.
  • Damn it he just wanted to be romantic but he looks like a six foot tall baby.


  • Also a naturally good skater??????
  • Or maybe he’s been practicing… Nobody but him and the other regulars know about that.
  • Challenges MC to a race and obviously wins.
  • Whenever MC falls, he’ll help her up and then skate for a while with his arm around her so she won’t go down again.
  • They’re usually holding hands to take each other down when the inevitable happens.
  • He’s never been one to take more than a handful of selfies, but damn,,,,,, everything’s so aesthetic, how could he not?


  • He just goes.
  • No wall, no chair, no precaution at all, just hope and determination. 
  • Away he skates, dragging MC right down with him.
  • It’s not the most romantic date ever, because they’re both not very graceful, but they have fun.
  • They packed little lunches! How cute!
  • Lots of breaks to regain some strength and will, but they definitely enjoy a lot of laughs.


  • They’re both so scared to fall that they cling to the walls for most of the time, but when Saeran gets brave, he’s shouting encouragements at her.
  • Every time she falls, he kisses her and helps her back up, and always makes sure she takes a break if she needs to.
Voltron headcanons - disability

- Ok, we know Shiro has PTSD and a prosthetic hand, but if you asked him whether he IDed as disabled, he would say no and then he would say yes, but he would be thinking of the PTSD.  Most of what actually causes a problem with the hand thing is the PTSD, not the impairment, and since he has a working hand and it just doesn’t happen to be his, he’s not sure that counts.

- Pidge was diagnosed with Bipolar II as a kid, but also has undiagnosed ADHD.  She’s looked up to Carrie Fisher since she got her diagnosis and is gonna be gutted when she finds out Carrie’s gone.  Fun ADHD fact!  Women and girls tend to have slightly different symptoms than men and boys, and their ADHD tends to manifest more in struggles at home than at school or work.  Like many disorders that are strongly associated with men, women tend to be under-diagnosed and are often diagnosed later in life than their male counterparts!  Oh wait.  That’s not fun.

- Lance has ADHD and dyslexia. Both were diagnosed early and he’s always had a support system in place to help.  Hunk already has a habit of reading for him or correcting him when he misreads, and he’s had an effective medication regime for the ADHD for years.  He had his meds on him when he left earth, so just before he ran out he went to Coran to ask if he could somehow make or find more.  It turned into a whole thing, and Lance had to explain ADHD and then Coran said, “Oh, yeah, that could be connected to some of the things I noticed in your brain scan.  I thought that was just a normal human variation, ‘cause Pidge has got ‘em too.”  Cue record-scratch moment.  

- Post record-scratch moment, Pidge is not about to monkey around with her brain trying to take Lance’s ADHD meds, ‘cause she tries not to poke her bipolar, but it helps having Lance around to talk to as she processes learning more about herself and decides that yeah, she probably does have ADHD.  It’s also good to know that Coran is open to trying to get them medications.

- Hunk has Generalized Anxiety Disorder.  His parents don’t believe in psychotropic medications, but were otherwise super supportive of him, so he had a lot of talk therapy and CBT as a kid and has a lot of coping strategies like baking and yoga and has typically always exercised regularly.  He’s also color blind, which in his opinion doesn’t count.  He’d red-green colorblind and mostly functions just fine, thanks.  He’s super glad that Yellow is so big and Green is so small, though, because that definitely cuts down on the confusion.

- Keith is on the spectrum.  Technically, his diagnosis is probably still Aspberger’s, at least on his paperwork, because he hasn’t been to a doctor for a while.  Here’s where things get sad; his birth family was super supportive and loving, but several of his foster parents were very stifling and controlling. His most natural stims were handwringing and rocking, but he had a foster family that would punish him for both and now suppressing those impulses is such a reflexive thing that he often doesn’t even realize that’s why he’s so stressed out and upset.  He’s developed a habit of curling his toes super tightly inside his shoes so that he doesn’t rock, because nobody can see that he’s doing it.  This also makes him reluctant to take his shoes off around other people, because then he’s even more restricted. He’s mostly gotten past his childhood clumsiness through all his sword training, and he’s learned how to make retreating to his room when he feels overstimulated look like just being a loner.

- The most surprising thing about his new team is that when he literally can’t repress those parts of himself any more and his autistic traits start bursting out, they’re actually?? supportive??  Hunk is, understandably, freaked out when he comes to tell Keith dinner is ready and finds him in his room, rocking frantically, but Hunk won’t let him apologize or act guilty or talk bad about himself?  People keep telling him it’s ok?  He absentmindedly wrings his hands and no one slaps them apart?  He accidentally rambles about sword construction for literally an hour and a half without stopping and Shiro just?? listens?? without getting annoyed/mad??  His friends get very upset every time they realize they’ve surprised him by not being shitty, and he gets lots of hugs, if he’s in a hugging mood.

- Allura has the Altean equivalent of diabetes.  Her body just doesn’t always process sugars well.  It’s well-managed, but Coran’s known her her whole life, including back when it wasn’t, so part of why he overreacts to her getting sick sometimes and has a hard time letting anyone else be in charge of cooking is that he doesn’t want her to get out of balance.  She’s also at risk for several chronic illnesses that run in her family, so she and Coran are mostly just very attentive about her health.  Well, Coran is.  Allura has Life To Live and won’t let a little total exhaustion get in her way.

- Coran had a severe speech impediment as a kid and every once in a while, when he’s very tired, it comes back in spite of all those years of Altean speech therapy.  Allura can usually understand him anyway.

A Forehead Kiss, Goodnight. 💋

@bikingthroughhawkins 💖

Over the time El had been staying in Mike’s basement, Mike had gotten to know El a little more each day. At first, he knew nothing about her, she was just some stranger, sort of living in his basement. But, as the time went by, he got to learn a little more about her, and once she was familiar and comfortable in Mike’s presence, she would open up a little more to him everyday.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

There was a post here a while back about naloxone stripping away even natural opioids, effectively doubling the pain a person is in. Can you elaborate on that? How easy is naloxone to acquire? Is there a reason it isn't used in every torture session ever?


Pain is necessary to alert us to harm from injury or illness and prevent us from continually doing stupid things.

But there are a lot of situations in which pain isn’t the most helpful. Once you’re well aware your arm is broken, you definitely don’t need to be reminded of it constantly for the next 6 weeks. Similarly, once you’re immobile and drooling on the floor, you don’t need MORE pain, even if the injury technically warrants it.

Once acute pain has run its useful course, the body can take pity and release a group of neurotransmitters called “endogenous opioids” (specifically, these are called beta-endorphin, met- and leu-enkephalins, and dynorphins). Endogenous opioids can be thought of as chemical “keys” that unlock protein “locks,” called receptor sites (specifically, receptors mu, delta, and kappa).

While the receptor sites are being repeatedly activated (or, “unlocked”) by endogenous opioids, they tell the brain to feel less pain. Whoopee!!

Opioid drugs like heroin, morphine, fentanyl, oxycodone, and hydromorphone are nothing more than chemicals that are so similar to those endogenous opioids that they can activate those same receptors and have the same effect.

Unfortunately, when too many of these sites get activated at once, coma and respiratory depression can occur, causing death. While the body would be really, really hard pressed to produce enough beta-endorphin to do this, it’s actually pretty easy to ingest that much heroin.

That’s where naloxone comes into play. Naloxone is a chemical that is also beautifully shaped to fit right on those receptors…. Except that, once there, it doesn’t actually tell the brain to do anything. Think of it as a key that physically can get in a keyhole, but does not match the lock- the lock isn’t going to turn, and while it’s still in there, no other key can try.

When present, naloxone molecules attach to any free receptor sites, and every time an opioid molecule releases a site, a naloxone molecule swoops in to bind to it. Due to how fast opioids are binding and releasing receptor sites, in only a matter of seconds, most of the receptor sites can have naloxone on them.

This effectively stops an overdose, because with naloxone sitting on all the receptors, even if there’s tons of heroin molecules floating around, they can’t do anything.

Which is great for an overdose, but since the same receptors accept both endogenous opioids and opioid drugs, once naloxone is in place, it blocks both.

To answer your question, based on how it works and clinical trials that proved it works against placebo pain medication as well as opioid drugs, I’m sure naloxone could be a very effective enhancement to a torture scene, as it would prevent the character’s body from decreasing pain itself.

And it’s not too hard to get. Here in the USA, opioid abuse is at an all time high. Which means, basically (and strangely controversially), in some areas you can walk into a health department or pharmacy and walk out with a naloxone kit, no prescription needed usually for less than $20. Sometimes even for free if you say you have a spouse/partner/sibling/child/roommate who abuses opioids. Other areas you’ll need a prescription (which aren’t super difficult to get).

As for why its not used… I don’t know- maybe you’ll have to be the first writer to mention it in a torture scene!

-Ross (macgyvermedical)

anonymous asked:

HECK YE REQUESTS OPEN. Could I request something for Hanzo (like say nothing with Genji ever happened and he ended up running the clan with Genji) with a servent/maid reader? Like he's head over heels for her and wants to make her his wife, and is like "Do not worry I will take care of you, screw what everyone else says"? ah soorry if thats to weird

It’s not a weird request at all! I find it rather cute really and hope you like this! ^^ I did it in HC form, but if you wanted something different, please tell me.

- Because of his undying passion for you, this man might come off a little straightforward? He’d probably see it as the most normal thing in the world, not seeing why you are so flustered and anxious over it. Even though the elders of the clan expect much of him, Hanzo is not one for letting others rule his life and even though he takes their advice to heart, his love for you cannot be stopped by mere rules. Do not get in the way of a dragon following his passion, as he will surely not tolerate it. He is still the Master of his clan after all and even his closest allies will not risk angering him over something as petty as loving a maid.

- He’d need some advice from Genji on how to be more subtle with you though, as Hanzo can’t get over his excitement of courting you, wanting you to rule at his side as soon as possible. However, you needed time to get used to the relationship as well, favoring a much slower approach. The archer would have moved you to one of his quarters already, where you would be residing until the both of you are married, as is tradition. However, every day after training, he would visit you and present you with the most luxurious gifts you can imagine and you can’t help but feel spoiled by his love and attention for you. The two of you would converse with each other over a peaceful tea ceremony while watching the cherry blossoms fall from outside your window. His time with you is what the Master looks forward to every day.

- A smile would settle on his regal face once the marksman recalls the day he fell for you, not expecting to fall for a person like yourself at all back then either, but he is more than thankful that he did. You were an assistant of one of the head maids and occasionally brought tea and sake while the royal family had their meetings with the other clans, mostly about settling new business arrangements and contracts. You were not that fond of them at the beginning, thinking that most Yakuza were quite ill minded and selfish people, after all, their business was not a fair one. However, you stayed because you needed the money to pay your own bills and the salary you got was not bad at all, so you kept most of your opinions to yourself and carried out your duties without complaint. You rarely spoke to any of the family members of the Shimada’s, as you feared them in a way as well and did not want to spill any bad words on accident, keeping your face and voice low whenever you had to greet them in the halls.

- It was Genji, the youngest of the family, who had approached you one day and you honestly were not as surprised as you were aware of the flirtatious history he carried with him when it came to socializing. He was a nice man in general though, free spirited compared to his other family members. Even though he could be charming, he treated you with the greatest respect and never pushed himself onto you once you politely expressed your disinterest. The both of you stayed good friends afterwards though, which was more or less Genji’s doing and you honestly didn’t understand why a high class noble like himself wanted to be friends with a simple maid like you. It seemed that the ninja did not care for status or ranks at all, which made you feel a little guilty as you thought so lowly of these people before. It seemed that not all clans were as bad or evil as people described them and even so, it is how they lived for centuries already and most Yakuza did not even interact with the normal citizens, let alone harm them. Their business might not be legal, but they weren’t ordinary murderers either.

- It was also through Genji that you managed to get closer to his brother, who you had a strange infatuation with. You were more than a little intimidated by Hanzo upon first meeting him in person though, having heard about his stoic and serious demeanor as well as his picky taste in things. Nothing could be perfect enough for this man and you were more than nervous for that reason as well once Genji had managed to get you to deliver some tea to his quarters. You knew what he was trying to do and it honestly drove you insane, but you remembered that complaining was still not something you were allowed to do as it could always be used against you, even by someone as sweet alking as Genji. You didn’t think he’d ever betray you, but you did not want to take any chances either and went with whatever game he was playing with now. Apparently, the man was amused by finding suitors for his brother and thought the both of you could work well together, despite your current position as he said it would not be a problem to the archer either. You thought otherwise however. This man was highly traditional and was probably not even interested in wasting his time with people who just come to bring in his necessities, as he usually did not even spare a glance at the other maids whenever his food was served.

- You were surprised for that reason, for finding the man watching you intently as you sat down his freshly brewed matcha tea on top of his salon table, his eyes not leaving your form, making you even more nervous than usual. At the time, you were not sure whether he was looking at you in disapproval or acknowledgement, the man never said a word and his face was impossible to read as well. He was a master at hiding is own emotions, which was something you must be capable of if you live within the lifestyle of his own. Distracted by your own anxious thoughts and shaking nerves, you spilled a small bit of the tea on top of the table while serving him and you couldn’t help but curse silently under your breath at your own clumsiness. However, you failed to notice that the most important person of the whole estate was right beside you, watching your every move and failure and your cheeks suddenly became a whole lot redder.

- Realizing your mistake and disrespect in front of your Master, you got on your knees and bowed down as low as possible while muttering out endless apologies. You never had been punished or done something wrong before and these people were very much unpredictable, so you did not know how severe his reaction would be and settled for the most formal apology possible. Thankfully, the archer was not as mad as you expected him to be, his cold and harsh exterior more an outlook he used to remain in control and appear fearless to his enemies and allies. He reacted rather calmly and told you there was no need to apologize so frantically. You had simply spilled some tea and it could be easily removed. There was even a hint of a smile on his face, but you did not dare to assume that fully, although he looked rather handsome once you faced him entirely. You had never seen the man this close up after all. Perhaps these Yakuza were not as bad and your punishment would not consist of getting your head chopped off, as a lot of locals were so afraid of.

- You were even more surprised once the Master had invited you to stay with him during one of his tea ceremonies after having served him for a while more. He was very smooth in finding an excuse as well, saying he felt rather lonely otherwise and did not get much company. You felt rather bad for him back then, as it must indeed be quite lonely if you are the leader of an Empire and need to be protected at all costs due to possible assassins going after your wealth. You of course obliged and the both of you grew closer over time, although you still did not understand why he favored you, a maid and worker, over the ladies of the palace or why he even wanted to talk to you in the first place. Hanzo often told you about his disinterest in the women his father chose for him and you couldn’t help but chuckle whenever he referred to them as nothing more than mindless dolls, with their fancy clothing and overly done hair. The archer always valued intelligence more so than looks and just natural beauty in general. To him, you were a lot more interesting than those women and you honestly felt very honored and touched to hear that, but did not dare inquire about it more as you were still in a lower position after all. You always thanked him politely or told him that those women all had their own qualities, but in general remained quiet in fear of crossing any boundaries.

- Hanzo knew why he was drawn to you. You were humble and kindhearted and always managed to say the right words of wisdom, soothing his own restless heart when he needed them. Your status for that matter was gradually forgotten over time and before he even realized it himself, he had fallen for you. That thought in the beginning, frightened the man to no end, but he knew he could not let you pass by and let another run away with your heart. None of the women he had been presented with prior ever made him happy and neither will they in the future, knowing that the person he was meant to be with would be you. You also opened his eyes when it comes to many other things, as someone’s rank has nothing to do with the person they are on the inside or what they feel in their heart. The rarest treasure can be found in the most ordinary places, as long as you are willing to see it. You were the only bit of happiness he allowed himself to have over time, as you never failed to make him feel calmer and thus decided to approach you that faithful day about something much more important. The both of you had already known about each other’s feelings prior to his proposal, although you kept it very much a secret from the rest of the clan. Genji did know about your relationship of course, but the ninja could be trusted as it was his idea to bring the two of you together in the first place and would never get you into any trouble.

- Now back to the present, a few weeks later, you gasped slightly as your beautiful man suddenly kneeled in front of you and took one of your hands in his, kissing it lightly before continuing on with his proposal. You had been too distracted by the elegance of the pink petals flying by outside to see Hanzo shift in his place and take out a silver ring from his pocket. The determination and love in his eyes shooting adrenaline through your whole body, keeping you in place and mesmerized by his orbs. He had made you a promise that day, a promise to keep you safe and cherish you. His words gaining more seriousness as he told you he would never let anyone get into the way of the both of you either, telling you that the one person who would try to do so would have written their own death wish, which had you taken aback. You knew the Master could be frightening and dedicated to the bone, but this was something entirely different and you honestly felt more than a little emotional over his passion for you. You felt a complete safety and relief wash over you, as your own doubts about a future spent beside one of the mightiest Emperors were washed away by his own comforting words. You knew you could trust the dragon on his word, as his expression said everything and you let yourself fall into his embrace as tears started to gather at the corners of both you and his eyes. You kissed him passionately in that moment, knowing that the rest of your life would be spent in the greatest happiness because of Hanzo’s unconditional love for you.


my name is Beāte and this is my partition in the first project of @girlsgang I am here to tell a bit about myself!
I am 18 year old Latvian from a nation that takes great pride in our traditions, singing and dancing. Most of us are heathens in a sense because Christianity has been a cover for latvians as they practiced the rites of the elders which we are doing to this day especially in summer solstice that we call Jāńi and Līgo and everyday “witchcraft” one may say.
I am chronically ill and have been diagnosed for almost ten years but that had never held me back to pursue my dreams and interests! I love to travel and have some sort wanderlust in me because I feel most at home when I am on my way that resonates well with me because nowadays you can meet latvians all over the world. arts also have a special place in my heart and I try to draw, paint or write every once in a while between my daily activities to both compose my thoughts and relax. however my main goal is to become a doctor and pursue biology to learn about human and help the world to become a bit easier for others!
this is like an introduction letter and you can always feel free to message me to learn more!
may good things come your way!

anonymous asked:

18 + 31 starmora!!!!

18. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.” // 31. “Don’t worry about me.”

I had a lil too much fun with this one so beware angst/fluff and a cameo from our fav baby groot :’)))

Send me a prompt for a way to say “I love you”!!!!

Apparently, part of destroying “the light” via destroying Ego had more consequences than Peter initially expected.

There was definitely the part about his immortality going away, which, what the fuck, why would Peter want to be immortal anyway, but then there had also been the part about Peter being “just like everyone else,” which was how Peter lived his entire life up until meeting Ego and spending, like, two days with him, so Peter really hadn’t thought much of Ego’s warning.

Then he totally sneezed in Gamora’s face this morning when he woke up and, honestly, he wonders how he’s still alive.

(He’d never seen her look so angry, yet disgusted, at the same time before. It was interesting.)

And now, an hour later, he’s holed up in their shared room, shivering as he’s curled up under covers he never remembered being so thin, and Gamora’s just standing over the bed, staring down at him.

“You’re sick,” she diagnoses.

“Thank you, Doctor Gamora,” Peter quips, sniffling along with his words. “Really, I had no idea.”

Gamora rolls her eyes. “Don’t test me when you can’t fight back.”

But her voice is teasing, and Peter can’t help but smile a little. “Sure thing. So, doctor, can you cure me?”

“Possibly,” Gamora says. She leans over, placing her hand on Peter’s forehead. “But I’m still concerned about your temperature.”

“’S’fine,” Peter insists through a yawn. His eyes feel really heavy.

“When was the last time you were this sick?”

Honestly? Peter can’t really remember, though he’s not sure if that’s because of the sickness fogging up his brain. So he just shrugs.

Gamora turns as tiny footsteps come from their doorway. Peter watches Gamora crouch down, then stand back up with a bottle containing a red liquid. Then he notices vines coming up the side of the bed as Groot climbs up, looking up at Peter through wide eyes.

“I am Groot,” he says, and his sad tone makes his meaning clear.

“Be careful, Groot,” Gamora advises, placing the bottle on their nightstand. She scoops Groot up in her hands, holding him at a safe distance from the bed. “Peter’s sick, and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Peter says, offering Groot a reassuring smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Gamora’s gonna take care of me.”

“I am Groot!”

“I know you wanna take care of me, too, but Gamora’s right on this one,” Peter says. “I don’t want you accidentally getting sick from me.”

“I am Groot.”

“I don’t know for sure that you can catch the same sicknesses as Peter,” Gamora says, gently running her thumb down Groot’s back. “But while you’re still little, we don’t want to risk it, okay?”

“I am Groot…”

“Hey, but while I’m down for the count, the others might need extra help with stuff,” Peter says, sitting up a little. “Y’see, I can’t lead the infamous Guardians of the Galaxy from my bed, so y’think you can take over being Star-Lord for a bit?”

“I am Groot?”

“Yes, you get to tell everyone else what to do! It’s fun.”

Peter grins as a small, amused smile forms on Gamora’s face. Groot seems pleased by this, so he nods, his expression suddenly very serious. He looks up at Gamora, who then returns him to the ground so he can run off and fulfill Peter’s mission.

After Groot’s gone, Gamora picks up the bottle and turns her attention back to Peter. “That should keep Groot occupied, though you also may have just created a monster.”

“He’ll have fun.” The image of Groot bossing Rocket and Drax around fills Peter’s mind for a moment. He laughs a little.

“Here. Drink this, you’ll feel better,” Gamora says, carefully pouring a very calculated amount into an empty glass she’d put on the table. She hands it to him. “This is a concoction developed by Kraglin, Drax, and Groot to help you. Kraglin is the most knowledgeable about your physiology since he’s known you the longest, Drax knows some things about medicine from taking care of his daughter, and then Groot added in some herbs he’s learned how to grow recently.”

Peter just blinks at her, then looks at the glass in his hands. “So, basically, you guys all made this up, like, five minutes ago, and it might poison me.”

“It’s not toxic,” Gamora insists.

Whatever. Peter does feel just short of horrible, so he’s willing to try anything at this point. He quickly downs it, not surprised to find it somewhat disgusting in taste. Fortunately, Gamora swaps out his empty glass for one full of water in, like, less than a second, so Peter’s quickly washing the taste out of his mouth.

“There, see? Not toxic,” Gamora says proudly.

He sighs a little as he pulls the water away from his mouth, setting it back on the nightstand. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She looks at him expectantly for several moments. He just watches her in return. Then, “Do you feel better?”

“Uh,” Peter says, sniffling, “on Terra, it takes a while for medicine to kick in. And since I’m full-Terran now, I guess, I’m just gonna have to wait.”

“Oh.” Gamora seems a little disappointed by that, but Peter finds it endearing. She places a hand on the bed. “What else do Terrans do to get better quickly?”

“Not much besides medicine and sleep,” Peter explains with a cough. “So, yeah, you’re pretty much relieved of your doctor duties.”

But Gamora just continues to stare at him, apparently not about to leave him alone. Peter sighs.

“Look, Gamora, don’t worry about me,” he says. “Really. It’ll be over before you know it. I’ll be back to kicking ass and dancing and all that good stuff soon, ‘kay?”

“Are you sure?” She averts her eyes momentarily, piquing Peter’s interest. “I…know your mother died of a Terran illness, so I just wanted to be sure…”

Something tightens in Peter’s chest at that. He quickly grabs Gamora’s hand, squeezing it. “My mom had a different kind of Terran illness, much worse than this,” he explains. “And, yeah, Ego caused it, so she didn’t naturally get it like I caught this, but, uh…anyway. This is a really common sickness that everyone gets every once in a while there. So, no need to worry.”

Gamora nods, meeting his eyes again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring up your mother.”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s fine. But, really, thank you for looking out for me. It’s…been a while since someone’s really done it to this extent, I guess.”

“Of course.” She smiles again, letting the last of the sadness fade from her expression.

Then a wave of cold hits Peter before he can reply, causing him to shiver. Gamora leans in more closely, practically smirking now. “I don’t believe I can catch Terran illnesses and you appear to need additional warmth, so…”

“You’re too kind to me,” Peter says loudly, only to be cut off by a cough.

Gamora simply crawls under the covers beside him, wrapping her arms around his midsection. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, resting his head beside hers.

“But if you sneeze on me again, Star-Lord, I swear…”

“I won’t, I won’t! I promise!”

(He manages to keep the promise, surprisingly, though there are at least three close calls.)

Send me a prompt for a way to say “I love you”!!!!
Words That Water Flowers - DecemberCamie - Hunter X Hunter [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: Words That Water Flowers

Word count:  2862

Chapters: 3


“I don’t get it,” Gon said numbly, staring unblinkingly at the vibrant and blood-smeared flower petals scattered across their lunchroom table. They were as beautiful as they were deadly. “How can someone not love you, Killua?”

“There are different kinds of love, Gon,” Killua answered, and his tone held the faintest trace scorn. “Being in love is different then just loving someone, and that’s what causes Hanahaki.”

((Hanahaki Disease- an illness in which unrequited love causes the patient to coughs up flower petals, eventually leading to suffocation))

The hanahaki au killugon fic is finally up on ao3! The first two chapters are what’s already posted here on tumblr, the third chapter is brand new. 

I plan on updating this once a week…hopefully, haha XD The third chapter is below the cut, its titled ‘Wabi-Sabi’. Thank you everyone for all the support this au have received already!!!

The hardest part, really, was hiding the disease from his family.

If they found out, they would immediately force him to have surgery and remove the flower. That would cure him, sure, but it would also erase all his feelings for Gon. His family would be thrilled- killing two birds in one stone, what could be better?

Killua would be devastated.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i havent been interested in bubbline in a while but i was lookin thru yr doodles and saw some now im gay fr it again

every once in awhile ill get deeply invested in bubbline but aw geez, don’t go too far back man those drawings aren’t any good.
I drew u marceline 

anonymous asked:

169 or 204 for max/anne/jack, please!

(Neeeeever give me a choice, cause usually I will try to incorporate both prompts. Hope this works for you, Anon and that you like it! Thanks so much for the prompt and sorry it took longer than I intended. <3 )

169. “I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I’m going to marry her.”  

204. “Is there a special reason, as to why you’re wearing my shirt?

                                                *  *  *

Jack sighed under his breath at the sight that greeted him when he walked through the open door of the cabin. He had been in a poor mood ever since he had woken up this morning and this situation had not improved it.

“Is there a special reason as to why you’re wearing my shirt?” He asked, heading for the decanter sitting on the side table, and pointedly not looking over at the rumpled bedclothes or the dark-haired woman currently laying across them, gazing out the window at the bright blue sky overhead . “Were you trying to perhaps, tell me that my clothes are no longer in fashion and I need to find a new tailor? Or possibly, it’s my birthday?”

Max snorted. “It was simply the first thing I saw when I was getting up to fetch some wine. That is all. Please do not dwell on it.” She sat up and started reaching for the pile of pins lying on the table. Tucking them in the corner of her mouth she started putting her hair up, fitting them into her curls.

Jack took the opportunity to make a face at her while she wasn’t looking. “Oh believe me, I’m not dwelling on anything in here.” He took a sip of brandy and grimaced. “Where is Anne, anyway?”

“She was hungry afterwards.” Max said vaguely.

Jack took another sip of brandy, his lips thinning. He knew exactly what she meant.

“Do you have to do this here?” He inquired, a faint edge of irritation creeping into his voice despite his gallant attempts not to let it show. “I thought you had rooms onshore for this sort of thing.”

“This ‘sort of thing’ can happen wherever we like and Anne wanted to show me around the ship.”

“You mean she wanted to fuck you here, so that she could smell your scent while we’re out to sea once more.” Jack poured himself more brandy.

Max pursed her lips. “I had thought after everything, that we were past this.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Is it crazy to think there's something in him saying 'I won't ever let him /touch/ you again'? It wouldn't have pinged my radar if he'd said 'hurt' coz that sounds more brotherly, but 'touch' has a much more possessive, intimate, and yes sexual connotation to it. That one word changes the whole feel of the sentence, makes it sound less like what a brother tells a sister and more like what a man tells a woman. Maybe it means nothing but it's hard to believe it's not a deliberate writing choice.

Hello Anon, sorry for the very late response.

Here is the script of the Battle of the Bastards episode. Now let’s go to the specific moment when Jon said that line:

SANSA: If you had asked my advice earlier, I would have told you not to attack Winterfell until we had a larger force. Or is that obvious too? 

JON: (increasingly heated) When will we have a larger force? We pleaded with every house that would have us. The Blackfish can’t have us. We’re lucky to have this many men. 

SANSA: It’s not enough. 

JON: No, it’s not enough. It’s what we have. Battles have been won against greater odds. 

Sansa knows there’s no point continuing the argument. She moves toward the tent entrance, where she stops and looks back at him. 

SANSA: If Ramsay wins… I’m not going back there alive. Do you understand me? 

JON: I won’t ever let him touch you again. I promise. I’ll protect you. 

SANSA: No one can protect me. No one can protect anyone. She exits the tent, leaving Jon alone.

If you read more from the script, you will know that Jon was not only increasingly heated during that moment, he was feeling insulted by her and he was losing his patience, and then Sansa just implied that she would kill herself if Ramsay wins…

I think in that very moment Jon realized how wounded Sansa was, how much damage Ramsay inflicted to her. It was just enough pain.

It is really, really sad because that was not the first time Sansa thought about killing herself:  

Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes. Yet those were the best times, for when she dreamed, she dreamed of Father. Waking or sleeping, she saw him, saw the gold cloaks fling him down, saw Ser Ilyn striding forward, unsheathing Ice from the scabbard on his back, saw the moment … the moment when … she had wanted to look away, she had wanted to, her legs had gone out from under her and she had fallen to her knees, yet somehow she could not turn her head, and all the people were screaming and shouting, and her prince had smiled at her, he’d smiled and she’d felt safe, but only for a heartbeat, until he said those words, and her father’s legs … that was what she remembered, his legs, the way they’d jerked when Ser Ilyn … when the sword …

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters … but then her courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.

The serving girls tried to talk to her when they brought her meals, but she never answered them. Once Grand Maester Pycelle came with a box of flasks and bottles, to ask if she was ill. He felt her brow, made her undress, and touched her all over while her bedmaid held her down. When he left he gave her a potion of honeywater and herbs and told her to drink a swallow every night. She drank it all right then and went back to sleep.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

That passage always makes me feel miserable not only because her suicidal thoughts, but for the first time that she experienced non-consensual touches all over her naked body. A child of 11/12 years touched that way is just horrible.

Sansa’s body was touched for so many men, and I hate all of them and wish them a painful death. And I think Jon share the sentiment.   

Jon wasn’t there for her before. Jon could not protect her then, but he is by her side now, he could protect her now or at least try. And at that moment the threat was Ramsay Bolton, the one that touched her in the most horrible way was Ramsay Bolton. So, for Jon the only response to her suicidal thoughts was a promise of protection against the threat that was Ramsay Bolton.     

Maybe Jon could not protect her from every kind of hurt, but at least he could promise to protect her from Ramsay, and most specifically from his rape threat. 

So yeah I’m sure the word ‘touch’ was a deliberate writing choice. Ramsay sexually assaulted Sansa repeatedly, and Jon was promising to protect her from that threat.    

I’m agree with you that the word touch doesn’t sound brotherly, that ‘touch’ has a much more possessive, intimate, and sexual connotation to it. But I think it has to do with the kind of protection Jon was offering to her. He was promising that he won’t ever let Ramsay put his hand on her again. And that kind of promise is very significant, no matter if it comes from a brother or a lover. I mean, I could have made that promise to her, because I love her, very, very much. And that is the thing, Jon loves her very, very much. Just read the next Jon’s scene from the scrip:

JON: Any advice? 

MELISANDRE: Don’t lose. 

Jon nods, looking into the flames. He glances at her. 

JON: If I do… if I fall… (beat) Don’t bring me back. She studies him. 

MELISANDRE: I’ll have to try. 

JON: I am ordering you not to bring me back. 

Jon doesn’t want to live anymore if Ramsay wins, because that would mean that he failed Sansa and she would kill herself… 

And at the end, Jon kept his promise, he beat Ramsay and almost killed him. He just stopped because of her:

Ramsay makes a feeble attempt to rise, but Jon is on top of him before he can, pummeling his head with fists and forearms. He has every intention of methodically beating Ramsay to death.

But Sansa, Littlefinger and Davos arrive through the broken gate. Hearing their horses, Jon turns to see them.

He doesn’t care about Davos or Littlefinger in this moment. He only looks at Sansa.

She looks back at him, and at Ramsay.

Jon realizes that Ramsay is not his to kill.

I think Jon would do the same to every men that touched or hurt Sansa, and he would do it out of love, not out of jealousy or due a possessive behaviour. That is precisely what she needs, someone that keep his promises, someone capable of restore her faith in people, her faith in men particularly. And that my dear Anon, would be very, very important and significant for her. Just imagine how Sansa would feel/react when she finds out that:

  1. Jon beheaded Janos Slynt.
  2. Jon refused Stannis’ offer to get legitimized as Jon Stark and be named Lord of Winterfell, because he did not want to despoil her of her rights.
  3. Jon fondly imagined her amazement should she gaze upon the magic beyond The Wall.
  4. Jon put in practice her lessons about being courteous with girls.
  5. Jon lovingly remembered how she’d brush out Lady’s coat, singing to herself, before he died.

Jon would turn into the most important man in her life, after Ned… ;) 

If my heart was a home it would be blue with white shutters.

A room for every person who held a piece of me,

A box in the back of the closet for every person who left their piece of me in pieces.

If my heart was a home

My memories of you would be sprouting roots in the backyard, planted long ago like some mission to move on, only,

The flowers that bloom in your name i still pick and press and leave on the windowsill;

The scent of you filling the halls,

I breathe in deep.

If my heart was a home, my wants I lacked the courage to express lie in secret, lost in the labyrinth,

Every once in a while these wants-

They pant and groan,

they drip they stutter they gasp,

they make the flesh of me softer and softer still,

they make the walls ache so much they begin to sway in the breeze, shifting the halls until

I dont even know myself anymore.

And I say, thats fine, thats okay.

Ill repaint the stairwell,

Ill bake peach cobbler,

Ill uproot the entire fucking garden and rip out every last soft,

Every dewy, open mouthed gaze that brings me back to

My quivering knees/ my grip on the sink and your hands digging into my body and you and you and you and-

If my heart was a home,

I would burn the damn thing to the ground.”

-Morgan Soto (via Morgan-the-carrot)

hello i want to follow back some people so like this post if you

post mainly Gerard
dont post Fr*rard (if you post it every once in a while i dont mind as long as you tag it but if you think Fr*rard was real or ship it hardcore still then we wont get along sorry)
use tags or are willing to tag things once we’re mutuals


A/N: Incoming Thranduil fluff for y’all! I hope you like it!

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Warnings: none

The sound of breaking glass stopped you dead in your tracks. Your hand froze mid-air, hovering over the necklace that you had intended to touch. Then you turned around, confusion and worry mixing in your stomach, only to see Thranduil standing behind you, a shattered glass of wine at his feet, staring at you with wide eyes. His features were torn between fury and grief, and you knew instantly what you had done wrong. You snatched your hand back and stepped away from the necklace, looking down at the ground.

“Forgive me.” You started. “I did not know…”

“Don’t ever dare to touch it again.”

His voice cut through your apology like a sword through bones. He did not yell, but his calm fury was even worse than any obscenities he could have screamed in your face. You gulped and looked down, tears filling the rim of your eyes. Even though you knew you had done nothing wrong – you had not even touched the necklace! – you felt guilty. And you were angry.

Usually you were pleased with the relationship that had bloomed between you and the King of Mirkwood. He was courteous and noble, treated you with great respect and was the embodiment of a gentleman. But there was always a shadow looming over your relationship: Thranduil’s late wife. It was clear that something tragic had happened to her, and that he was still grieving. And while you acknowledged his pain and suffering, it still hurt that he still felt so strongly for her.

His eyes burned into yours, unforgiving and angry, and you nodded before turning on your heel and fleeing the room. It was not seemely for you to cry, so you wiped your tears away before storming to your chambers. You closed the door behind you and erupted in a fit of sobs.

“Now, now, (y/n), this Is not how I know you.” A calm voice said, and your head snapped up to see Gandalf sitting on a chair next to your bed. “Tell me, how can I help you?”

You quickly calmed yourself, wiping the tears away a second time. Then you shook your head and sat down on the bed, taking your old friends hand in yours.

“Do not worry, old friend.” You feigned a smile. “I do not want to trouble you with my problems. Instead, tell me what I can help you with?”

He smiled back and patted your hand with his other one, before withdrawing from you.  He stood up and started pacing around the room, explaining himself to you.

“I wanted to ask you for help in a matter that needs your…expertise. I do not know much about the magic of witches, I have to admit, but I think in my newest endeavour I need your help. But now I see, you are troubled already. You do not have to feel obligated to come with me.”

You shook your head and stood up, following his steps.

“I think a break from Mirkwood might be exactly what I need right now, Gandalf. I would be happy to help you, so do not worry: I will come with you as soon as you explain what you need from me.”

“I will explain it on the way. Here, I fear, the walls have ears.”

Your curiosity was wakened with these words and you nodded.

“Then let us leave as soon as possible.”

“I will go and make preparations.”

Gandalf bowed and left the room, leaving you to ponder over the upcoming quest.

A few hours later you were sitting on your bed, shuffling through your spellbook, when Thranduil burst into your room. His cheeks were reddened and his eyes were wide with rage, but despite his fast movement he did not break a sweat. You put your book aside and looked up at him, wondering what you had done this time.

“Why did you not tell me you are going to leave? Why does Gandalf have to bring these tidings to my ears?”

You stood up and smoothened your skirts, before you looked him in the eyes and took his hand.

“It was only decided this afternoon, my love. Please, do not rage. I meant no harm.”

He lowered his gaze to the floor, before nodding and stepping closer to you.

“I forgive you. But tell me honestly…do you go on this mission only to help Gandalf, or do you flee from my past?”

You sighed and shook your head.

“I do not want to hurt you, Thranduil. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love, but… I cannot help but feel jealous. I do not run from you, I run from my own ill feelings. But while I am gone, could you please ask yourself this: Are you willing to start a new life with me? Sometimes it feels as if you are still dwelling in the past, and while you have every right to do so, I do not want to be caught up in the tide of your suffering.”

Thranduil, taken aback, sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, before he lowered his gaze once more. His thumb drew patterns on the back of your hand while you waited patiently for him to answer.

“I did not mean to make you feel that way.” He finally confessed, his voice quiet and soft. “Sometimes grief washes over me and I get carried away by it. But I promise you… I will try to fight it from now on. I love you, (y/n). But while I wish I could say I love you more than anything I ever loved before, that would be a lie. But I can say in all honesty that I love you just as much as her, and the thought of losing you because of my grief is too much to bear. It is not what she would have wanted, and it is certainly not what I want. So…” He trailed off and took a deep breath, before he went on. „I do not need to think about the answer to your question: Yes, I want to start anew with you. The only question that remains now is: Will you forgive me for my rude behaviour?”

With all of your heart you nodded and - in a fit of passion - you threw your arms around him, happy that he had chosen you.

“With pleasure.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he embraced you. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his shoulder, unwilling to go now that he had confessed his true feelings for you. But you had promised Gandalf, and you always kept your promises. So you stepped back after too short a time and smiled, kissing his cheek.

“I look forward to my return.”

nerdlycharming  asked:

"Come on, you need to eat." Sebastian to Ciel, followed immediately by Ciel throwing up.

Here you go! ((Also I’ve been following you since forever on my personal  and I nearly cried when I saw you requested something)). As usual, this is on the short side, and as soon as I finished I realized this may not be exactly what you meant…

Hope you like it!

Warning: descriptions of vomit under the cut. 

‘‘If you take so much as a step closer to me, I swear I’ll vomit all over you.’’ Ciel groaned at Sebastian, whose arms were laden with a heavy tray of comfort food. The earl hadn’t been able to keep anything down all day. Everything, including water, came back up as stringy, acidic, vomit through his nose and mouth. Once or twice every hour, starting in the early morning, he was doubled over a garbage can with hot bile pouring from between his chapped lips. His appetite was less than present. If food crossed his mind, his stomach would twist painfully.

‘‘Come on, you need to eat,’’ prods Sebastian.

‘‘Says who?’’ Ciel’s illness had not yet eliminated his contrarian spirit.

‘‘Says basic human needs. Now eat.’’ Sebastian approached Ciel’s bed with the tray in hand. While the threat of vomiting on his butler was empty, the sight of the risotto and the smell of the mushrooms in it was making his mouth fill with saliva. The milky risotto too closely resembled the vile substance he had been gagging up all day.

‘‘Would you rather I feed you myself?’’ Ciel felt his face flush from something other than fever. The thought of being babied by a demon again made him want to bury his face in his pillows and never come back out.

Sebastian forcibly pulled Ciel up by his armpits after putting his supper on the table beside them. Ciel’s stubborn streak, made worse when he was vulnerable made him scoff and try to resist. He didn’t want to sit up. The movement sent a hot jolt of pain up his esophagus, and he stifled a loud burp into his fist. He licked his pale, chapped lips.

Sebastian pressed the spoon into his young master’s right hand. Ciel lifted his weak arm to the tray being placed in his lap. It was heavier than he remembered it, and the feeling of being pinned was overwhelming. His stomach rolled.

With his mouth hanging open pitifully, he raised a small bite of mushroom risotto to his lips. Hesitantly, he put the spoon in his mouth. The taste was too hot and heavy on his tongue. He doubted he could continue to eat something bland. He suddenly hated mushrooms. He looked around desperately, but swallowed anyway, seeing no other way out.

His stomach instantly revolted. He felt something shoot into the back of his throat, but swallowed it all back. His throat burned anew, and his sinuses itched from the acid. He suppressed a groan. He could hardly remember the last time he’d thrown up this much. He doubted he had ever.

Sebastian moved towards the door, smirking. He kept his eyes on his young master as he backed up. Ciel took another bite before calling, ‘‘Unng! Sebastian!’’

He was trying to move the tray from his lap, but with a twisting stomach, sapped energy and vomit rising, he just pushed it to the floor. Sebastian grabbed the bin from beside his bed and placed it gently under his master’s chin. Ciel took two shaky breaths.

‘‘N-no…’’ Ciel started, but he was cut off. His throat constricted violently, and the choked sounds could be heard through the room. Another shaky breath, followed by another gag. And then hell broke loose, and Ciel was in the throes of his illness once more.

He gagged violently, and suddenly everything was coming up. The vomit poured from his mouth in a thick wave. The lightly coloured liquid gurgled as he spit it up violently. The waves came with hardly a breath between them. He coughed as his small body was ravaged with gags. Sebastian did his best not to be disgusted, but frankly it was hard. The sheer amount of vomit was shocking, and the loud, bubbling noises it was making it all the worse.

Ciel coughed, spraying a great deal of sick over the bucket. He looked up at Sebastian with two wide, watery eyes. He coughed a few times in Sebastian’s direction, with little regard for what was actually sanitary.

‘‘Don’t make me eat any more,’’ Ciel nearly pleaded. His whole body was shaking. The discarded food was on the floor, in a mess of broken glass. Ciel burped loudly and spat up another mouthful of bile.

He wanted to rinse the disgusting coating off his tongue. A few small chunks clung to his lips, and were dripping down his pointed chin. He was stiflingly hot in his nightshirt. His stomach felt marginally better.

‘‘Clean this up,’’ Ciel ordered. ‘‘And bring me some water.’’

‘‘Ready to eat again?’’

‘‘Shut up.’’

anonymous asked:

While I don’t understand the going to anti ills and reporting back here, it’s funny to me they are admitting that the “relationship” is over. So, they actually believe it themselves too!

I don’t mind it as long as people aren’t reporting what they’re saying about me personally. That’s something I don’t want to know. It’s entertaining to hear about their theories every once in a while. It amazes me that we all look at the same information but come up with completely different conclusions every time. 

intro to skye !!

hi there my name is skye and im a transgender guy from england starting sixth form in a few days. im pan and asexual. i will be studying a level english literature, psychology and chemistry along with english language as an a.s. over two years. 

i suffer from social anxiety, major depression, ocd, panic attacks and depersonalisation so school (and life in general) is a bit of a struggle. i ran a studyblr called revisionblues during year 11 which no longer exists and found it quite helpful in order for me to try and keep myself motivated ish to revise. i am also perusing an autism diagnosis but waiting lists are long. i am likely to follow back studyblrs, particularly those that post about autism and mental health in relation to school work. 

i love bullet journalling so expect the odd post of my bujo every once in a while. always open to new spread ideas, particularly those about mental health or school.

anyway that’s about all i can think of to write at the moment, i hope you’re having a lovely day !  

museicaliteacup  asked:

could I request ♞: caring for each other while ill + leoji for intimacy asks, please?

Sure!! A little birdie told me it was Leo’s birthday today (well, Wikipedia, but) so what better time to fill this prompt?

♞:Caring for each other while ill

“Never…again…” Guang Hong lamented, pressing one of his overheated cheeks against the cool tile of their bathroom floor. For once, he was glad his boyfriend meticulously cleaned every surface of their apartment, even if it was a little annoying at times. 

Clutter everywhere, but not a speck of dirt or dust. Leo de la Iglesia was an enigma.

But back to the matter at hand. Said enigma was about a foot away, doubled over with his forehead pressed against the tile in a similar fashion and his arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

“You…okay?” Guang Hong craned his neck to get a better look at him, worry coiling in his gut when the other didn’t respond. “Leo?”

“Just fine,” came Leo’s response, though he didn’t move a muscle. “Just waiting for the room to stop spinning.”

It had been foolish, honestly. The reviews for the restaurant were all extremely poor. But it was authentic! They walked by it every day, so they just had to try it.

And even though it was Leo’s birthday, he’d let Guang Hong choose where they went for dinner.

“I think it’s passed,” Guang Hong managed, reaching for the rim of the tub before pulling himself up on shaky limbs. “I’ll go get us some Gatorade.”

“Okay…” Leo replied, turning his head so at least one eye could peer up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“You?” He raised his brows, taken aback. “I picked the restaurant.”

“And I just had to order us the special.” Leo chuckled and then winced. “There’s a reason they were trying to get rid of it, huh?”

“Yeah.” Guang Hong snorted. “Probably.” He shook his head. “Anyway, do you have a flavor preference?”

“Anything but red.” He shuddered. “Don’t particularly care for seeing that come back up.”

“Okay, babe.” Guang Hong crouched down, brushing his boyfriend’s sweaty bangs from his forehead before placing a kiss on his brow. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” Leo offered a small wave as Guang Hong stood up and walked toward the hallway.

“Oh, and Leo?”

He turned, looking up at Guang Hong expectantly. “Yes?”

“Happy Birthday.”

Worst. Birthday. Ever. 
Sorry for giving the boys food poisoning ^^;; I’m cruel, I guess.

Thanks for the ask!
Reopening the Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy Asks