#How to Remove Head Lice

[thanksbutno98]

Lice

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: The Price family gets lice.

Warnings: swearing, not edited.

——————

“You good Cap?” Soap was just walking from the showers with a towel in hand but no move to actually begin drying himself off.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” John mumbled as he scratched at his scalp.

The men had all just finished up with some training exercises and were showering off to head home for the day. The only thing was Price had removed his hat after their 5 kilometer run which was unusual, then poured a bottle of water over his head. Now he sat on one of the metal benches in front of his locker messing with his hair.

“A bit vain today, sir?” Kyle joked having never seen the normally, wash and go, man fiddle with his short hair cut before.

Kyle had just pulled his shirt over his head and was looking back at Soap who was toweling off his hair and not caring in the slightest that he was fully exposed. It wasn’t unusual for the Scotsman to do this and the rest of 141 had become use to the man walking around stark naked in the locker room as if it were common. None of them really cared since they often got changed and showered around one another, expect for Ghost.

The off white locker room they sat in had rows of navy blue lockers with a long bench down the middle creating isles. They were in the back of the locker room away from the main door that shared the hallway just outside the gym. They were near the side door that lead to the higher ups offices which is why John’s locker in particular was over there.

The lockers in the back were against the farthest wall which was where Kyle and John’s lockers were, only separated by two. While Soaps was in the final row of lockers that faced the back wall and directly across from John’s. The space was a bit bigger allowing two rows of metal benches but all their lockers were pretty close, expect for Ghosts who’s was on the end near the showers.

“No, shampoo didn’t make my head stop itching.” Price voice was husky as he turned over his usual bottle of two in one shampoo and looked if it had an expiration date.

“Steer clear you two.” Ghost walked into the locker room and down to the back, still in his sweat drenched clothes and pointing at Price. Opening his locker and grabbing his gym bag he flung it over his shoulder seemingly to go shower at home like he usually did.

“Steer clear of what?” John asked, preoccupied by the ingredient list on the bottle. He sat forward with both of his elbows resting on his knees and still inspecting his shampoo. He was the only one completely dressed and ready to head home.

“What, you got a death wish and put something in Caps shampoo?” Gaz snorted out a laugh finding the notion of Ghost pranking anyone ridiculous. He was fastening his jeans almost ready to head out.

“Lice.” Is all Ghost said before heading for the door.

“WHAT!?” John shouted sitting up straight and glaring at Ghost. The accusation was out of left field and John absolutely thought he didn’t have lice, it had never even occurred to him.

Soap and Gaz looked at John and immediately created distance between them. Kyle kept his opinion to himself but moved down the bench towards the door, away from Price instead of where he had been only an arms length from him.

“Fuck that.” Soap who was still naked, grabbed his bag and moved to the farthest corner of the locker room where Ghosts locker was.

“I don’t have lice.” John snapped. His stomach twisted uncomfortably seeing how quickly the men in his charge moved away from him.

“You’re going to tell me those sticky kids of yours would never bring home lice?” Ghost asked, his back was pressed against the side door ready to push back and leave.

“My kids aren’t sticky!” John snapped back, detesting how his children had just been brought into this.

“Of course not, sir.” Ghost sounded respectful in his tone but Gaz, Soap, and John knew he was being a smart ass.

The mention of lice had John’s whole scalp lighting up and feeling itchier than it had before. He had been telling himself skipping his morning shower was why his head had been itching all day. Which is what caused the confusion from moments ago as to why his scalp still itched even after his shower.

“If he had lice don’t you think Indy would know by now? She’s on top of everything.” Gaz tried to come to John’s defense although he was slowly creating more and more space between them. John was looking between his own gym bag and Kyle’s, which was now much closer to Soap and eyeing the distance. It was making his blood boil to be treated like a leper.

“Gaz’s got a point. Indy would’ve blown up your phone if that’s the case.” Soap nodded to John was now pulling his phone from his bag to prove you hadn’t contacted him.

The boys were right if he had lice it was from the kids and you would have been trying to reach him so he wouldn’t give it to anyone else. Tapping the screen John was ready to show it off with no notification but his heart dropped. On his screen were 11 missed calls from you and a text in all caps that read: ‘THE KIDS HAVE LICE!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!’

“Fuck.” John grunted out which caused Simon to snort out a dry laugh confirming his suspicion. Without a word he pushed out of the locker room and left his captain to be exiled by the other two members of 141.

“We’ll see you when you’re lice free, sir.” Gaz skirted out of the locker room so fast the door hadn’t even completely shut behind Ghost.

Turning John looked over at Soap who was pulling out fresh clothes and looking back with an apprehensive look.

“What!” John snapped feeling judged under Soaps gaze.

“Nothing, sir. Just don’t do anything to jeopardize the Mohawk.” With his index finger Soap pointed to his hair and then went back to getting dressed.

“Fucking muppets.” John grumbled. Snatching his bag, he angrily stormed to his truck.

——————

Walking into his home John was surprised to see how messy it was. Usually you kept on top of dishes and general tidiness but not today. The plates from lunch were still sat on the table and there were four plastic shopping bags sitting on the kitchen island. The contents were spilled out across the counter of different looking bottles and hair tools. There was cardboard and plastic pieces littered across the surface from whatever you had torn open in your haste.

Looking over John saw the laundry room door left open and all the sheets and bedding in a large pile spilling from the door. The washer was lightly rattling from how packed it was while the dryer hummed along next to it. It occurred to John in that moment you were not playing around with this and he should quickly hand over his hat so you could hopefully save it.

Walking down the hall towards the living room it was empty yet the tv was still playing some kids cartoon. You had stripped all the cushion covers off the couch which was probably what you were washing at the moment. All the blankets and kids stuffed animals were missing and knowing you that was the first load of laundry you did so Lily could have her teddy bear back. There was an insecticide spray especially for lice sitting on the coffee table showing your thoroughness.

Thats when John heard faint crying coming from upstairs. John had to let out a defeated sigh knowing he was about to walk into a mess of a situation. Just the amount of the laundry you two would be doing was a nightmare let alone the lice. But the true relief was, you were his wife, who was always ready to spring into action and get things with the kids solved quickly.

John made his way upstairs, around the banister and down the hall to the ‘kids bathroom’ that was between Evelyn and Jj’s rooms. Stepping into the doorway John was greeted by the sight of his oldest, Jj sitting on the little mahogany wooden step stool in front of the sink with a small towel wrapped around his shoulders and hair covered in white soapy suds. The eleven year old was shirtless and in gym shorts, looking bored out of his mind.

The bathroom was a rectangular shaped room with emerald green wallpaper and gold fixtures. The floor consisted of large square terracotta tiles that had a long beige shag floor mat in front of the porcelain white tub. The large tub was carved out into the wall to the right of the door and had matching foggy emerald green tiles wrapped around the three sides of it. There were tiled shelves built into the shower where shampoo bottles were knocked over and leaking from the storm that had entered the bathroom.

To the left of the door was a white marble counter that stretched the same length of the tub. It had two sinks and the children’s toiletries placed on their perspective sides. Evelyn’s side was messy with tooth paste stains littering the sink and faucet while Jj’s was pristine. Over the counter hung a large rectangular mirror with a gold Victorian style frame with the most intricate design. At the end of the counter was the toilet and across from that the linen closet that was shut by a thick mahogany door with gold fixtures and a crystal door knob.

You had designed this bathroom yourself and John thought it was a bit garish at times but you absolutely loved it, it’s why your en suite had similar wallpaper. But when it came to home design he didn’t have an eye for it so he let you have free reign when redoing any room in the house.

You were sat on the edge of the tub with your hair tied up into a tight bun and damp. You had on black cotton shorts, a tight white tank top and wore a determined expression across your face. Your nine year old daughter was sat on the floor between your legs wearing one of John’s t-shirt that swallowed her whole body. It was damp around the neck and so large it hid the athletic shorts she had on underneath. You had a fine tooth comb in your hands with a long metal pick on one end as you rooted through the young girls hair.

Evelyn was quietly sobbing, her bottom lip sticking out and face rosy from the tears. John’s presence caught the attention of everyone but you. Seeing him had his little girl bursting into tears and trying to make a move for him but you placed your hand on her shoulder not letting her move.

“Mummy’s being so mean to me! She called me patient zero and has been tugging at my hair for hours!” Evelyn wailed making John’s chest tighten seeing her in distress. Even with her crying like this she looked so cute in his shirt.

“Oh my god, stop being a baby.” Jj rolled his eyes at his crying sister, right hand coming up and scratching the back of his shampoo covered head.

“That bad?” John looked to you who was still intensely focused on picking out lice from your daughter hair.

“They’re both blessed with your thick hair so it’s taking awhile. And it hasn’t even been a full hour yet Evie.” You reminded your daughter who was still crying loudly. She was uncomfortable and you understood that but still you didn’t like being painted the bad guy when you had been picking through her and her brother’s hair far longer than you liked.

“This is the second time I’ve shampooed and you’ve picked through my hair.” The sobs were causing her words to be less and less coherent. John placed a kiss to her forehead and whispered a promise of icecream later which had the young girl sniffling away the tears.

“I take it you’ve gotten it to?” John asked as he turned off your phone timer and motioned for Jj to stand up so he could help.

“No, actually I haven’t been itchy at all but thought I’d wash my hair with the lice shampoo just to be safe.” You had barely looked at John as you kept going through Evelyn’s hair trying to make this as quick as possible.

Jj moved the stool aside and bent forward to put his head into the sink. John took the towel and then lathered the shampoo a bit more before continuing. Looking over his shoulder he spoke.

“Well bad news then.” John sighed the words out as he ran the sink and started to wash the shampoo out of Jj’s hair.

“No.” Was all you said, looking up into Johns downturned blue eyes.

“Yeah, so I’m next.” John sounded defeated.

“I’m starting to think this will never end.”

——————

“Ow, stop tugging.” The timber of John’s voice rumbled through your en suite.

“Stop squirming then.” You mumbled back with the same frustration in your voice.

John was currently sitting on the tiled floor with his back against the wooden chair you were seated in. You two were centered a foot away from the doorway of the bathroom facing the open double doors that lead into your bedroom. There was a program John picked playing on the tv to help pass time. He was between your legs but not in the way he usually liked. He kept wincing at how roughly you were going through his hair. Tugging on the short stands and then digging into his scalp to get whatever it is you saw out.

“I see why Evie was crying. You are mean.” It was a half hearted joke with a tone of sincerity beneath it.

“Yeah and you’re both big babies. Jj didn’t complain once.” You were running low on patience and didn’t need your husband’s sass at the moment.

“Yeah, cuz he saw that you only get rougher after complaints.” John’s comment had you purposefully tugging on his hair.

“Ow! Quit it!” John’s left hand came up to try and lightly swat your wrist but you were quick and swatted his hand with the comb before he could get to you. With a deep and agitated grumble John shook his hand from the light sting you had left.

“Oh, I’m sooo sorry.” You retorted sarcastically.

You two sat in silence as John pouted. He didn’t like your short temper and you didn’t appreciate his attitude. You’d been picking through your families hair for what seemed to be the latter half of the day. It had caused an ache in your back to slowly creep from your tail bone and up to the center of your spine. There was a stiffness in your shoulders and you were absolutely starved, being the only one to not have had dinner since you had your finger digging through someone hair at all times. The amount of laundry you had gotten through was taxing on you but there was still so much more to get done before you could call it a night.

The only member not subjected to this was your baby who had thankfully been asleep for the majority of your lice removal. Lily was currently babbling in her rocker in your bedroom where you could see her swinging her little baby arms around with a teether in hand. John purposefully had the rocker pointed towards you two so Lily could see him. John was Lily’s comfort person and when she could sense he was home but out of sight she’d lose it until he picked her up. Then magically all the tears washed away and she was giggling. The morning meltdowns had become a ritual when John left but he ate it up, loving how much his baby girl adored him.

“How do’ya think we got it?” John broke the silence with a happy hum as you started to comb out his hair, meaning you were almost done.

“I thought it was Evie since she was the worst but I’m starting to think it’s you. Your head was so much worse than hers.” You spoke and then patted John’s shoulder signaling you were done.

“Me? How would I get it?” John looked up at you as you got up from your spot and went to wash your hands. He took the chance to smack your ass hard as you passed by, a loud clap echoing through the room. It stung but you chose to ignore it, having become accustom to John’s wandering hands.

“Maybe one of those disgusting guys you wrestle around with during training exercises.” You shrugged and began to clean up your bathroom counter from all the lice tools.

“Simon guessed I had lice, you don’t think-“

“Holy fuck it was him!” You interrupted and turned quickly to look at John. Your eyes were wide and then you were grabbing your phone and scrolling through it like you had some form of proof.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” John waved you off as he got up from the bathroom floor, his knees clicking. He was ready to start becoming suspicious of others not blatantly point the finger.

“No, look!” You brought your phone up and shoved it in John’s face.

He blinked rapidly and pulled your hand back from the sudden bright light in his face. Squinting he saw a text conversation from you and Dove, Simons wife.

Dove: Hey girly I have a quick questions for you.

You: what’s up :)

Dove: Grace brought home lice and gave it to the rest of us. Any suggestions on what shampoo I should use or how to get rid of it fast?

John’s eyes widened as he realized it absolutely was Simon who’d given him lice. The bastard had been practicing some new grappling moves with him, Soap and Gaz a couple of days ago. Now it was going to look like John was the one to give everyone lice when in actuality he had been framed.

“That fucking prick. He’s the one with the sticky kids.” John blurted out sounding a lot meaner to you than he intended.

“His kids aren’t sticky. Don’t be rude.” You immediately shot John’s comment down not appreciating his jab at other peoples children. Which John also didn’t appreciate his kids being called sticky like Ghost had done earlier that day.

“No, darling he told me we’re the ones with sticky kids but it’s not true. He’s the one with sticky kids who bring home lice.” John tried to explain but you only looked at him more confused.

“No one has sticky kids. Knock it off.” Your face was sour and words stern but John only threw his hands in the air completely exasperated that you weren’t getting what he was saying.

“I’m gonna hang him by his ankles and have everyone take turns wailing on him.” John grumbled to himself as he made his way into the bedroom.

“Well let’s hope the boys didn’t get it.” You followed after John who was now brooding and pacing the length of your bedroom as he plotted away.

“Oh if I have it, the boys have it. The trouble is how do we convince Soap to shave the Mohawk?” John was rubbing his chin.

“Don’t be mean! I’ll help him like I did you. He can just shower here and I’ll delice him.” Your words had John’s head snapping in your direction.

“That boys never allowed to shower here. Last thing I need is you seeing how he walks around bloody nude to air dry.” John spat the words out hating the idea of you seeing another man naked.

“I mean, I don’t mind if he needs to air dry.” You joked, wagging your eyebrows at John. He shot you a stern look silently telling you to knock it off.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating @mayflysdie @thirstyb-ches

[90ekz]

ive head this nagging thought in the back of my head that satoru has some kinda random spot on his body that’ll make him instantly pop a bone. I DONT KNOW JUST WORK WITH ME HERE PLS 🙏 i love your works btw 😘

✧ sweet spot, ft. satoru gojo

✧ tags: mostly fluff, whiny satoru, ‘baby’ as a nickname, did i say mostly fluff already??, dry humping, overstim, loser satoru cs he’s mushy and in love

✧ an: this idea is now living in my head and not paying rent, thanks a lot anon :/

satoru usually just does his own hair care, and he’s very meticulous about it. he wants everything to be clean and pristine—not that you weren’t capable of doing that for him, he’s just very, very dramatic. he didn’t even know this spot was sensitive until… literally now.

he’s standing in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his growing undercut. he figured it was time for him to cut it anyway, but his arms were very sore from some training he’d done with the kids yesterday.

“babe.”

“y’esh?” he chuckled at your mouthful of the minty paste, and just waited for you to finish brushing. when you finally did, you turned to face him as he brushed his thumb over the white pooling on the corner of your mouth.

“can you cut my hair today? ‘arms are so sore.” satoru whined, his finger still tracing your lip lazily.

“have you washed it? i don’t need your lice transferring to me—ouch! okay, okay, plug in the clippers!” you giggled as he pinched your lip. the clippers rested on his side of the sink, and he plugged them in wordlessly. you stood behind him, lightly brushing the area with the small brush you know is the most comfortable for him. satoru sighs lightly as you do this, and his shoulders relax.

he didn’t know exactly what it was, but your hands felt different than his. you made him so sensitive usually anyway, but this was weird. his cheeks were heating, and everything was tingling, not just his neck.

and then you did it.

the clippers worked in upward strokes as you trimmed the hair down, and suddenly your thumb brushed over some magical pressure point of his. satoru felt pleasure shoot down his spine like he never had before, and a almost girly squeak slipped out before he could stop it. your eyes go wide and you remove the clippers from his neck. satoru is deathly still, and you watched color bloom over his cheeks in the mirror.

“…you okay sato’?” the nickname drips off your tongue like honey—so effortless, so intimate, and he hates that you decided to use it right now. he can’t take it. you’ve never called him that, and he can hear the amused tilt in your voice.

satoru gulps, because he doesn’t know what to say. how does he say that he wants you to keep going, to keep brushing over that exact spot so he can pinpoint exactly what that feeling was just now? he’s never felt anything like that when he cut his own hair…

he settles on a weak little “i’m fine, baby,” because frankly? he doesn’t trust himself to say any other words right now.

you give him a little smile in the mirror before your hands start working again, and you finally start getting somewhere with actually cutting his damn hair. he doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary happen anymore, and now he’s finally cleanly shaven again like he likes. you did an exceptional job, and satoru peppers you with kisses as a reward.

he mostly stops thinking about it after this.

yeah, maybe the thought lingers in the back of his head for a few hours after, and maybe he stands in the bathroom rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck for a little longer than considered normal, but it was fine.

except for when you call him down to finish watching the movie you’d started earlier, and he’s laying on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair. satoru isn’t even paying attention to what your hand is doing as he yaps about the plot of the film, and you listen.

“he’s a piece of shit! i mean, he stayed with his side piece on the plane, and made his wife drive in the snow? fuck mike ‘till it’s backwards.” satoru spits, his attention fully focused on the movie’s plot.

unlike you, who’s mind was still in the bathroom, cutting satoru’s hair.

you haven’t stopped thinking about the little noise he’d made as you’d accidentally pressed your finger over the nape of his neck, right where the hair started. he sounded so weak—so vulnerable, and you decided right then that you needed to hear much more of that.

your mind was now solely focused on one thing, and your hand was moving just as it was in the bathroom. you twirled your fingers around strands, until finally threading your fingers through his hair and giving a small tug. this tore a stuttered breath out of satoru, and you smiled. he’d gone a little more rigid against you, and his commentary had stopped as you payed so much attention to him. he was losing focus of the movie, too.

“b-babe,”

“hmm?” you hummed back, fingers now traveling from his hair to his lower neck, tracing small circles there. you knew what you were looking for, but why not tease a little first?

satoru couldn’t answer you if he tried—every word in his throat dies as you press down onto that spot once more, and he’s slamming his hand on-top of yours to make sure you don’t move it. he isn’t sure why he does that exactly, but why does it matter? why does anything matter when you’re touching him like this?

he can’t do this, just one press on his spot has his dick rising and stiff against your thigh, and even you can hardly believe it.

“sato.” you grip his hair to pull him off your chest, just enough to look at you. he whines from the mixture of the nickname and the sting of his scalp.

“b-baby, please.” satoru breathes. you know what he’s asking for, and you figured you’d done enough teasing for a while. you grin, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the pressure point back and forth, up and down, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came just from this based on the sounds he was making. he hovers you, his arms barely holding his body up, and he’s heaving into your neck.

“breathe, satoru.”

“mmph—i will! i will, just please don’t stop,” satoru whines, his hips grinding down against your thigh. sure, this whole thing is embarrassing as hell, but he couldn’t help the cheeky grin that stretched across his face as you indulged him. as you ran your acrylics over the sensitive part of him, he dropped his head back into your shoulders, and his own started to shake violently.

he was laughing.

you were shocked by this, but you didn’t dare stop. at some point, you couldn’t help but snort a little as he grasped onto you. it was cute—the way his giggles melted into moans, the way he couldn’t control himself or his emotions in the moment. there were no coherent thoughts forming in his head except for fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

and you loved it that way.

[kedreeva]

Bug is still pretty nervous around Indie, and Indie hasn't actually interacted with peachicks previously, as all of his other homes remove eggs to raise chicks in brooders. So even though he's about 15 years old now, he's having to learn what babies are and how to act around them. I often see him sleeping on the far side of the pen from where the moms are XD

But, he seems to be doing good with the babies so far. Here, he's bidding for attention from Bug. While head shaking is performed in a variety of situations from courting (bowing their head all the way to the ground) to aggression (accompanied by threat sounds), a midway head shake with closed eyes like this is a simple offer of trust and friendship (and maybe a little "come pick bugs off me" since in the wild they would be likely to pick up lice/fleas/ticks and other parasites, and they will groom them off each other's faces. How romantic). She's a little too young to get it, but it's sweet he tried.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Forget about how the characters' intellegence drops with here lies, I just realized that the Lila-Cerise stuff could have ended as soon as she started to model with Adrien. Like... hello? Stylists are an essential part for modeling? So, like, her wig should have been discovered? But then again... its a "kids show", so things must be "simple" like Simpleman...

Alright, Miraculous is supposed to be a kids show, I get it. But I wonder if there is a limit on when that is reason enough for excusing how the writing went? Or how the logic and common sense are ignored? Penny for your thoughts?

It's a fair point, but not one that I wouldn't call a slam dunk. I could buy that she told her stylist some bs like that she got lice while on a charity trip, cut her hair, and now has to wear a wig while the hair grows back. So long as it's a human-hair wig, you can style it the same way that you style hair that's growing on your head. The only issue would be if Lila's hair needed to be cut for a specific shoot, but maybe she has backup wigs! For this to out her or cause suspicion, Nathalie, Adrien, or Gabriel would need to overhear the wig talk and be concerned about it.

I will say that it is amusing how she just pulled off that wig like it was no big deal. That implies that she was taking a major risk because the wig was not properly secured! It could easily fly off during an akuma attack or gym! Maybe that's why she sat out when they were playing soccer? At the same time, this one is definitely a nitpick and not something I'd actually hold against the show. I get why they did the quick change instead of showing her properly removing the wig. It's more dramatic that way! I wouldn't even hold this against a more serious show.

Final verdict: I don't think the wig is a major issue re Lila not being outed. If anything, it's yet another case of an overlooked opportunity for foreshadowing the multiple identity reveal because holy shit did that need a better setup. It's so dumb and comes out of nowhere! If you're going to have her wear a wig, why not have someone notice the wig and let her spout some bs about why she wears it? The gullible-is-our-middle-name class would buy it in a heartbeat while the audience would be clued in that Lila obviously wears a wig for some other reason since she lies every time she opens her mouth.

[oh2e]

A (long) Collection of TTOI Quotes

He’s as useless as a marzipan dildo

I’m going to have to mop up a hurricane of piss here

He and Hewitt are tight as arse cheeks

‘How fucked am I? On the fuckometre?’ ‘Oh 12’ ‘yeah 12’ ‘out of what?’ ‘50’ ‘oh…. mine was out of 10’

Tiny little dick the size of a bookie’s biro

There’s no time to go home I’ll pass myself on the way back in

I can only cook with what I’m given. You give me Hugh Abbot I’ll give you bangers and mash, you give me Jerry from home office then I can raise it to fucking risotto and scallops

I am king of remembering my own password

‘Shagging your way to the top is it?’ ‘Yes well I’m not Scottish so I’ve got to get in somehow’

How much shit is on the menu and what flavour is it?

‘What do you want Malcolm’ ‘Two bits of tit. Two titties.’

Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off

“What about just firing him at a wall from a cannon?” “I know we force feed him a mixture of garlic and Dettol in cup a soup” “What about the old red hot poker up the arse?” “I’d like to nail him to a tree through the head and watch lice slowing crawl over his body eating off all the flesh”

“Has security checked this [plant]?” “For little terrorists?”

This is the problem with the public - they’re fucking horrible

Not only was it a shit idea to ruin my holiday, it was a shit idea you stole from the government to ruin my holiday

Ah that’s like smoking dead skin that is

You’re the fucking shittest James Bond ever - you’re David Fucking Niven!

You’re like a sweaty octopus trying to unhook a bra

You take the piss outta [Al] Jolson again and I will remove your iPod from its tiny nano sheath and push it up your cock! Then I’ll plug some speakers up your arse and put it onto shuffle with my fucking fist

I thought you said no one reads these except political obsessives and mad Christians in wheelchairs but loads of people read mine

“I am not the story here” “Well no you kind of are though Malcolm, they spelled your name right and everything”

Come with me before I put your nuts in a book and squeeze them so hard that they come out like pressed fucking flowers

You’re The Ben….Ben Nevis…Bentally Ill…

Tickety fuckity boo

“Anyone seen Jamie?” “Oh don’t tell me he’s gone feral cos he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash.”

I’d love to stay and talk to you but I’d rather have type 2 diabetes

Mr Baby New Potato Head

It sucks cock so deep the bell end is wearing your appendix as a little hat

This is an operations room so unless you want your tonsils out by keyhole surgery from this key here, piss off!

Cliff Fucking Lawton! Nice. Was the Cilit Bang man not available?

To a guy who loses it so bad he needs a sat nav to find his own nipples

I’m feeling about as up to date as a Gregorian calendar

“You couldn’t organise a bum rape in a barracks.” “Au contraire”

You’re about as secure as a hymen in a south London comprehensive

Stop fucking blinking or I will take your optic nerve and fucking strangle you with it

Hanging round like a couple of school secretaries in the summer holidays

It’s like a prostate consultant’s waiting room in here

You will be sorry you inflatable cock!

I am going to have your intestines as a skipping rope and your lungs sundried and turned into a fucking waistcoat

Or will Dan Miller pull his scalp off and use it as an oven glove?

Enough of the pleasantries let’s just oil up and get fucking

A towel rail shouldn’t take up a whole wall, that’s not a towel rail it’s a climbing frame.

I’ve got a to-do list here longer than a fucking Leonard Cohan song

More on my plate than a spinster at a wedding

The only other candidate is my left bollock with a fucking smiley face drawn on it

Feels a bit like my head’s made entirely of smoke alarms

Fuck the Is and fist the Ts

May as well ask what I think of skirting boards, I’m sure we need them but I don’t know why

“No no I didn’t say that” “Well you sort of did with your face”

Let me row back a little bit, perhaps all the way back to the boathouse

She’s not bent either in the sense of being corrupt or being gay and by the way that’s an incredibly homophobic headline you massive poof

Omnishambles, from bean to cup you fuck up

I’m on my way to wipe my arse on pictures of Nick Robinson

“And I’m not doing terribly am I?” [Malcolm looking out the opposite window] “I love the way they’ve sandblasted here. It looks so clean.”

No no, don’t get up - I’m not viagra

He’s a fucking knitted scarf, he’s a balaclava.

The only thing John Duggan is doing here is depriving a village somewhere of a twat

You write almost entirely in generic meaningless buzzwords don’t you?

I will tear your fucking skin off, I will wear it to your mother’s birthday party, I will rub your nuts up and down her leg while whistling Bohemian Fucking Rhapsody

She’s behaving like a squirrel in a pedal bin.

Or I’ll have to tear my eyelids off and scrunch them up into fucking earplugs

I’m flypaper for dickheads

I think you’re wrong Malcolm you’re like a sultana in a salad

Sorry I can’t make espresso but I’ve made this so thick and black it’ll be like drinking fucking plimsoles

Well fuck a pot noodle. Sam, prepare my horse. I ride to DoSAC

The only fucking vibe you need to worry about is the one your wife hides in her knicker drawer

See you later and remember my door is always locked

* Tintin’s sexy sister to Ollie

What I really need is to shoot you all in the back of the head FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. but I can’t because it’s illegal.

I reserve this level of anger for when I’m flying Ryanair

As about a strong defence as ‘the fertiliser in my homemade bomb was organic’!

She’s a fart in a frock and we both want her wafted out of here

She’s going to have to fall on her sword, which means that we’re going to have to stick one in the ground, trip her up onto it and get someone jump up and down on her back for ten minutes

She’s going to kick her own head in which’ll be easy because she does yoga

I’m looking for Mr Oliver Reeder? He looks a bit like a Quentin Blake illustration

“Is she fucked?” “Like Caligula’s favourite watermelon.”

Can I bring you a shot glass? And some bleach?

You can’t look a gift corpse in the mouth

“It’s over the fat lady’s singing” “No she’s not, the fat man from the go compare advert is talking”

I’ve got my cock out, it’s covered in breadcrumbs and the fucking pigeons are circling

Have I just stepped through a portal into a sausage machine because this is making mincemeat out of my head

Sit there and ogle me like a page three girl

I’m as busy as a two-twatted hooker

Now I have to step in your shoes but after you’ve shat in them

I don’t just take this fucking job home you know. I take this fucking job home, it ties me to the bed and it fucking fucks me from arsehole to breakfast then it wakes me up in the morning with a cupful of piss flung in my face then slaps me about the chops to make sure I’m awake enough to kick me in the fucking bollocks. This job has taken me in every hole in my fucking body.

Everything is fine I’m like lube at a funeral

If you pull off again I’m going to stick the meter so far down your throat you’ll be able to tell the price of your next shit

You closeted regency homosexual

It’s been a bit like renovating an old, old house. You can take out a sexist beam here, a callous window there, replace the odd homophobic roof tile, but after a while you realise […] the foundations are built on what I can only describe as a solid bed of cunts.

Shit in the couscous

[two-white-butterflies]

the horses, cars and cowboys do | d. targaryen

Description: How Daemon and Therese came to be. Part three of the 'therese' series. part two

(Summer, 2013)

Love comes when you're not looking for it.

It hits you straight on the face - and it doesn't apologize.

A loud sigh escapes your mouth. 'Just my luck,' you mumble to yourself, exiting the car - and slamming the door loudly. It was clear that you were fucked - there was steam coming out of the hood and you were in the middle of nowhere.

"How the hell am I gonna get out of here?" you look around you - eyes narrowed and searching for a ride. There was no one for miles, the only thing open was an ugly motel - that was probably infested with lice and other bugs. It was in the middle of the night - there was no one coming to save you.

You reach for the keypad phone inside your driver's compartment, mumbling strings of curses. You just broke up with your boyfriend - you didn't get the role for a series that you've been pining for - and now you were stuck in the middle of nowhere with no signal.

The gods had their favorites. It wasn't you.

To your surprise, you weren't the only one visiting the motel in a late hour. There was someone speaking with the receptionist too - judging from his stance and aura, he was someone important. A rich businessman or a lawyer, but he was hot.

Hot in a way that you wanted him to have your babies. Hot in way that you wanted to start a family with him - nothing sexual.

"Sir, we only have one room left." the receptionist mumbles - eyes interlocking with yours. The man removes his sunglasses, seemingly undeterred by anything happening outside of him. "Yeah, book that one." he answered in a quick tone.

He probably worked in Corporate. Everything was fast paced.

"O-okay," the man stuttered - "What's your name?" he inquired, giving enough time for you to make your way towards the counter.

"Daemon Targaryen," the man answered - placing his sunglasses inside his pockets. He tilts his head sideways, glancing at you. "I'd like to book a room, please." you smiled at the receptionist, completely oblivious that the motel was fully booked.

"We're fully booked, ma'am." the receptionist informed - already beginning to print Daemon's receipt. "How?" your eyes narrowed - looking around the halls for any signs of human life. "There's a party in town ma'am, everyone's come to visit." the man reported, and a slight groan escapes your mouth.

The thought of sleeping alone in your car didn't settle well with you.

It wasn't safe, especially for a woman.

"Can't you free a room for me? Name your price," you sigh, taking out your wallet that held all your debit cards. The man shakes his head. "There aren't any rooms, ma'am. I'm so sorry." the man's lips settled into a thin line.

You turned your attention towards Daemon.

"Were you able to book a room?" you asked him, and the world seemed to freeze in front of him. Everything began to happen in slow motion - the moving of your hair, and the slight frown on your face. "I booked the last one, I'm sorry - but you're free to bunk with me." Daemon offered, and your frown deepens.

The audacity that men had nowadays.

"No thank you," you hum in return, tapping your fingers impatiently on the counter. "I'm no danger, I promise." he raised his arms in mock surrender. You turned to look at him again. He looked familiar.

"Do I know you?" you tilted your head sideways.

"I'm Daemon Targaryen," he introduced himself - extending his hand to shake. "Y/N L/N. You're Sandy Bullock's ex right?" you inquire and a low chuckle escapes his mouth.

He's revolutionized the tech industry and everyone knows him to be Sandra' ex boyfriend. "Yes," he replied with a sigh. He tilts his head too - finding your features familiar. But he doesn't know you, right? He'd remember a face so ... perfect. "We met before - during the Emmys!" you smile - slowly unraveling yourself to him.

"Outstanding Drama Series?" his eyes narrowed - remembering exactly who you were. "Yes! But we didn't win." you chuckled nervously - remembering all the things that he was.

"Pity, I enjoyed watching Breaking Bad." he smiled.

"- god, now I feel bad for stealing your room. You can have it, I can sleep in my car." he offered and you shake your head.

"It's nothing, lets 'bunk' together."

After the eventful night of sleeping, he offered to drive you home.

"Thank you for letting me use your phone. My manager will get the car this noon." you inform, handing him his clean phone.

"And the car home? You have anything to ride?" he questioned and you shake your head. "I might hitchhike," you answer, and a frown paints his face.

"I'll drive you home."

Four words, that sealed your eternity.

@baybieruth @watercolorskyy @watercolorskyy @bellastwd @icarusgloom @pearlstiare @areaderinlove @hc-geralt-23 @rozendiors @twobluejeans

[adarkrainbow]

As you might have noticed with my latest post, I have been looking into Frau Holle recently. And I just read an article by Dominique Peyrache-Leborgne which has some interesting points.

The article starts out by pointing out the difficulty of translating "Frau Holle", the very name of the tale/entity, in French. "Frau" can become easily "Madame" or "Dame", Miss or Lady, no problem... But what about "Holle"? The very name is a part of German folklore - and not just German folklore, a very specific regional folklore in Germany around Hesse - and as such it means nothing to a French audience. Not only that, but since French is a Latin-derived language, unlike German, the very name "Holle" does not bear any connotations, implications or echoes in French the same way it does in German or even English. As such, while there were translations as "Madame Hollé" as early as 1869, the idea of keeping "Frau Holle" as "Frau Holle" or just transliterating as "Lady Holle" is quite recent - and only applies to scholarly translations. Meanwhile, for older or more "common" translations, a specific trend appeared in France, a translation-tradition that still lasts to this day. Translating Frau Holle as "Madame la Neige" (Miss Snow), "Dame Hiver" (Lady Winter) or other cold-related names.

An habit that the author of the article severely criticizes, because while indeed snow plays an important part in the fairytale, Frau Holle is not supposed to be a spirit of winter or an embodiment of the snow - or at least she does not appear exclusively as such. Frau Holle is a very complex cultural figure with various functions and appearances.

To help the audience understand the complexity of Frau Holle, the article presents in a simplified and summarized version the list of supernatural beings that appear in variations of the "Frau Holle" tale around the world - a list extracted from a work by Warren E. Roberts, a "very complete synthesis" called "The Tale of the Kind and Unkind Girls" (1958). To highlight this intertextuality not only helps understand the various roles and elements surrounding the "part" Frau Holle is supposed to play ; while also proving how Frau Holle synthetizes all of those various aspects together.

In most fairytales of the type "The Kind and Unkind Girls", the supernatural being is a female entity of magic. For example, a fairy - fairies are very recurring in this type of fairytale though, unlike in Perrault's famous "Diamonds and Toads", there is never just one fairy, they are always three. It is exemplified by Basile's "The Three Fairies" in his Pentamerone ; they also appear within several Judeo-Spanish fairytales of the Balkans (there was a recent anthology of them translated in French published by the José Corti edition), and it is quite common for these three fairies to be washer-women, or at least tied to water/rivers (several variations in the French region of Gascogne have the fairies as washer-women by the river). There is also an equally important number of fairytales, among these "female tales", where the girls rather deal with witches - characters that very easily replace or are confused with fairies in folktales. The most famous of those witches tale is the one Afanassiev called simply "The Baba Yaga", and where the famous Russian witch plays the part of Frau Holle. A third option also exists for the female magical being: just "an old woman", "little old woman", who is clearly magic but never called by any specific name like "fairy" or "witch" (this type of character, the "magical old woman", not quite a fairy not quite a witch, is very common among the Grimm fairytales). The "simple old woman" appears for example in another one of Basile's tales "The two little pizzas", and in a Bulgarian fairytale "Girl of gold, girl of ashes" (a story which did reach France through the Père Castor collection for children). Sometimes the old woman will ask to have lice removed from her head (for example in Greek fairytales). Finally, in lands with a strong Catholic presence, of course, the female supernatural entity is replaced by the Virgin Mary - something very common among Christianized fairytales, where the Virgin Mary plays the part of every positive female magical character (an example is the Spanish fairytale "Three Balls of Gold").

So we have here a quite coherent group of female entities, though quite ambiguous, the fairy-witch group. There is also a share of those stories that have male characters as the supernatural entity. Usually these are earthly entities tied somehow to nature: in the Ludwig Bechstein's "Golden Mary, Sticky Mary", it is a "wild man" or "savage man", the "Thürschemann" ; in Afanassiev's The Old Grumpy Woman it is a leshy, a male "forest spirit" ; and in Grimm's own "The Three Little Men of the Forest" it is, as the title says, three dwarves living in the woods. When it comes to the male stories, having them be a specific entity related to the weather or the flow of time similar to Frau Holle is quite common: in England you have Jack Frost, in Russia Grandfather Frost ; and in many European fairytales the supernatural group of men embodies either the four seasons or the twelve months (Basile's "The Months" for example ; the article also notes a 1996 French children book "Adeline, Adelune et le feu des saisons", Adeline, Adelune and the fire of the seasons).

Finally, there is also a set of tales with more enigmatic and mysterioues entities, whose roots seem to belong in myths, religious symbolism or magical rituals. For example in the Anglo-Saxon and Celtic traditions, the entity is usually three disembodied heads within a well, that asked for their hair to be brushed, or simply to be treated with respect. Miranda Jane Green evoked this trope within her "Celtic Myths", and James Orchard Halliweel collected a version of it, "The Three Heads in the Well" for his "Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales of England".

And Frau Holle, as an old and ancient avatar of a lost Germanic goddess, manages to compile and regroup all of those aspects and all those various entities within her. Like the three heads in the well, she is associated with ancient myths and the world of the dead. Like the four seasons, the twelve months, and Jack/Grandfather Frost, she is a spirit of the weather and the cycle of time. Like the wild-men and forest-spirits, she is an entity of wilderness and nature (the Brothers Grimm, in their "German Legends", do note several times that she leads a "Wild Hunt" throughout the forest). And finally she is the ultimately fairy-witch ; she is the kind and benevolent wise woman... and the terrifying ogress-like long-teethed hag.

A complexity of character, a multiplicity of faces, that is retranscribed within the ungoing debate surrounding the etymology of "Holle". For those who want to study the German fairytales under a mythological angle (Jacob Grimm was one of the most famous names to do so, more recently Eugen Rewermann, a religion specialist, took back the Grimm theory), Holle is survivance of the old pagan goddess of Germany Hulda, a mother-earth goddess (hence why Frau Holle lives underground, down a well). This is notably this analysis that led Lucie Crane, the woman that translated the Grimm fairytales for the edition illustrated by Walter Crane, to translate "Frau Holle" as "Mother Hulda": it was an attempt to give back to her a mythological glory. But other scholars have argued that Frau Holle could also be a female version of this Norse winter-god associated with the dead that appears in the Eddas: Uller/Holler. Another analysis, that is tied to the fairytale, is the homonimy between "Frau Holle" and "die Hölle" - which is "Hell" of course, but since here Frau Holle rules over a benevolet underground "land of the dead", we can think of it as a generic term for the "Underworld" (the same way for example in some languages the Greek Underworld are referred to as "Hell" despite having the paradise of the Elysian Fields). And more so: "Holle" coul also be... "die Holde", which means kindness or benevolence.

Many, many possible readings all true in their own way, which not only testifies to the cultural wealth behind the figure of Frau Holle, but also reflects perfectly how the character is one of paradoxes, duality and multiplicites. Frau Holle is so powerful that she mixes the up and the down - her realm is underground and yet in it she makes it snow in the sky, as a goddess both chthonian and celestial... With Frau Holle, life and death becomes a blur ; and more importantly Frau Holle gathers within her all seasons, because she might make it snow like in winter, her domain is stilled filled with the fresh flowers of spring and the hot sun of summer...

[The author of the article did praise greatly John Warren Stewig's decision of translating the character's name as "Mother Holly" in 2001. "Holly" is close enough to "Holle" in sonority, but it also makes the character feel more familiar to an English-speaking audience since it is a quite common name ; and "Holly" also plays cleverly on both "holly", the plant, one of the defining symbols of winter, and "holy", evoking Frau Holle's alternate roles as a saint or a goddess]

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 2 Group A Match 4

expand for propaganda ↓ (major wall-of-text warning. don't say I didn't warn you) (nazi reference has been removed)

KD Lang:

"She's a lesbian (+100 points) and she was just really hot back then (+10000 points)"

"incredibly clear, sensual mezzo soprano voice -- kd lang's music literally transports you into the narrative of the song. they have a very charismatic appeal that makes them very attractive amazing bone structure and i love the short, choppy hair on top of that their fashion sense is peak, from the 1992 miss chatelaine ballroom dress to the suit on the august 1993 vanity fair cover to the shoulder-length hair and orange jacket on 1995's "all you can eat" i would literally give my life for kd lang i'm obsessed"

"VOTE KD LANG IF YOU LOVE LESBIANS. (AND YOU SHOULD LOVE LESBIANS)"

Jarvis Cocker:

"if jarvis wins I'm mailing him my underwear"

"I just want to tuck him in bed and read to him fairytales while he sips a cup of cocoa please is that to much"

"Jarvis Cocker and Jesus Christ share the same initials so that means that they are one flesh meaning that if you love Jesus you love Jarvis and vice versa"

"jarvision the best division 🫡"

"if jarvis wins I'll read The Hobbit in latin"

"I flew to London a couple of weeks ago and the first thing that I did was take the tube to waterstones picadilly and spend there about an hour looking for jarvis' book that they didn't have. Then I made my way (in the rain without an umbrella) to Foyles to see if they had it there and, again, they didn't have it."

"he's 6'3"

"I have never been more sexually attracted to a man than Jarvis cocker in the this is hardcore mv. I want to flatten him out with a rolling pin like pizza dough and then smack him against the wall. I am so horny I should be shot."

"Everytime I see jarvis cocker videos or pics I twirl my hair, kick my legs and giggle uncontrollably. Or I bite my arm and scream. I'm so mesmerised by his beautiful doe eyes and his weird dances that often lean very sexual. He's everything"

"the way jarvis' body is built is just extraordinary yknow like his spindly buglike legs"

"all I want in life is to take a shower with him and wash that greasy ass lice looking hair for once"

"Jarvis Cocker's last name is Cocker = he should win cuz cock haha"

"I want to spoon-feed him my grandma's chicken soup"

"I want to cock you jarvis <3333333"

"hottest most delicious looking man on earth"

"I didn't rant about him in English lang for him not to win"

"I love him a lot he looks like an insect ♥️"

"Jarvis cocker this is hardcore mv. No guillotine could take away the sloppy, disgusting, throbbing, dripping head I would give that man"

"never wanted a man so bad in my life, he looks like a pretty girl whilst having such a nice deep northern sheffield voice, i want him so bad i'm gonna be genuinely upset if my future bf doesn't look like him"

"apparently a girl he had slept with noted that he made sure that he satisfied all her needs in bed IM JUST GONNA LEAVE THIS INFO HERE AND YOU DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH THAT CUZ"

"need to have car sex with him whilst moving his greasy bangs out the way with my fingers"

"i went all the way to ireland to cure my hyperfixation but im still dreaming about the insect man 😍 i want to do the dishes with him"

"Jarvis is the kind of man that will tell you in explicit detail how much he likes to be pegged"

"currently smashing his sheffildian buttocks"

"I'd like to put my head on his shoulder right by his neck and just stay there, with his somewhat shaved beard making contact with my face and some strands of his hair coming loose and caressing me"

"is it zoophilic of me to say that I'm attracted to his insect looking way"

"Jarvis is everything! 90s Jarvis is a sarcastic smart bitter horny devil. 2000s Jarvis is a romantic fool. Current Jarvis? Lyrically, he is still both the horniest and most romantic and imho has the sexiest speaking voice of his generation. I used to listen to his BBC 6 radio show and when he said my name on air during their listener special I lost my goddamn mind. Celebrate the anniversary of it annually."

[punks-never-die205]

Read some stuff about lice and now I have a headcanon that there's an agreed upon rule that hairbrushes, ties, hats and other things are NOT to be shared amongst other members of the crew.

House probably screamed herself hoarse when she saw a few members sharing a hairbrush or something and had to sit everyone down and explain the rules of lice prevention.

Fucked Fact: If you don't have the proper products to kill those parasites then they have to be removed with a fine toothed comb by hand and it can take days to weeks to get rid of all the fuckers and their eggs. It can take anywhere from 24-72 hours for a single louse to die of starvation when removed from the host. The living environment or hygiene status of the host doesn't matter to them. Thankfully they don't cause or spread disease.

Oh yeah, House would be on them for it, for sure.

Extra fun fact - if you have exceptionally thick hair, or you're not able to get the nit-comb through it, shaving your head is the only option you may have left available to you.

Mayo doesn't kill the eggs (though the oil does provide some relief to the itch).

But also, yes, an important thing to note is that lice aren't attracted to bad hygiene. Some studies suggest they have a preference for clean hair vs dirty, but neither is going to save you from a possible infestation.

If you have itchy scalp from other things, like dandruff or just dry skin, you could have lice for far longer before realizing what the issue is - Ask Me How I Know?

15 year old Quin was utterly traumatized by a summer time lice infection so bad that when my mom caught it and got stuff to get rid of them there were cascades of bug corpses rinsing out of my hair.

And I have a phobia of bugs.

Can you guess what I've NEVER had twice in my life? Compounding things, I'd gotten my hair spiral permed a few weeks prior. And it's thick. I've killed more than one pair of electric trimmers. I had to get a pixie cut to fix the emergency hack job my mom had to give me because I was spiraling about the lice.

It was not fun ^^; Almost 30 years ago and it still makes me shiver.

In this situation House is me, I'm the one reading the riot act to the crew about proper and safe hair care. XD

[dragoneyes618]

Many modern writers assert that the people of Tudor Britain were all infested with fleas, head lice and body lice. I am not sure how they can know that. Yes, the combs were designed to act as  lice combs; yes, there are images (mostly from later in the Tudor period, as are almost all our images of Tudor daily life) of women checking over the heads of children for evidence of nits and lice; and, yes, there are satirical pieces of writing about dirty, infested people. But does any of this mean that the majority of the population was infested? It does point to there being enough of a problem for people to wish to take precautions, but surely it also highlights the desire to be free of lice and fleas. One does not need to be flea-infested to get a plague-ridden flea bite; a casual encounter with an animal will do that for you. Modern Londoners, it is often said, are never more than eight feet from a rat. We can't, therefore, cite the prevalence of the Black Death as proof of bodies crawling with insect life. Close combing with a fine-toothed comb is a very effective method of removing head lice; a daily comb will prevent any arriving louse from getting a hold and laying its eggs. So perhaps once again we are looking at a personal hygiene routine that works so long as you actually use it.

- How To be a Tudor, Ruth Goodman, pages 27-28

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Grimple

CR 1/3

Chaotic Neutral Tiny Fey

Bestiary 4, pg. 142 (pic from 2e’s Bestiary 3, pg. 120)

These disgusting, lice-infested, anthropomorphic opossum are one of many species of Gremlin, mischievous and often hateful Fey spawned into the world to cause chaos. Like many gremlins they live in the dregs of society, infesting abandoned buildings, sewer lines, garbage dumps, and the like, venturing into greater civilization to sate their physical hungers and their inborn need to destroy and despoil. They’re not quite to the point of killing people, but Grimple certainly like harming and inconveniencing them, with listed crimes such as abusing pets, freeing livestock, throwing rocks at passers-by, picking pockets (+5 Sleight of Hand), loosening signage so it falls on people (or removing it entirely to cause confusion), and loosing their disease-ridden vomit on every surface at every available opportunity. They have Mage Hand and Open/Close available to them 3/day as well as Prestidigitation at will just to enhance their potential pranks and allow them to perform them from a safe distance, because their DR 2/Cold Iron won’t do much to protect their 4 HP from retribution.

They’re nasty customers which make frequent forays into civilization to feast on garbage and waste, disrupting the peace of the locals between meals, and like the rodents they resemble it’s often up to adventurers to exterminate them as part of low-level missions, because the average peasant likely can’t even FIND the vermin once they’ve decided to hide. They can climb at 20ft a round, have a +13 to Stealth, and most uniquely have the ability to stretch out flaps of skin out from their sides to serve as ersatz wings, letting them clumsily glide in a single direction at 20ft/round. They have all the mobility of a squirrel with the intelligence of a human and the malevolence of a human-squirrel hybrid, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as they flee retribution for their misdeeds and sabotage. It’s good if they’re just running, though, because if they’re actually pausing and throwing rocks at you (which deal 1 point of nonlethal damage, same as their bite), it means they’re trying to bait you into following them.

Whether it’s a patch of Grease on a flight of stairs (which they can cast 3/day), a tripwire placed in front of a pile of horse manure, the gremlin flinging open the door that was hiding some incredibly dangerous and hostile monster, chasing a Grimple is bound to end in pain. It’s a humiliating and often humbling experience for any beginner adventurer who thinks to themselves “it’s just gremlins, it shouldn’t be that hard, even for me!” For a DM, the Grimple make good critters to send players after to teach them the folly of underestimating a creature that’s as intelligent as a human but which has supernatural powers and movement modes a human needs tools to match, without the threat of death lurking around. About the most dangerous thing they can do is, once every 1d4 rounds, spew a disgusting technicolor yawn in a 30ft line, potentially nauseating everyone in the area that fails a DC 11 Fortitude save for 1d4 rounds. Distracting, upsetting, and disorienting, but not dangerous unless there’s other monsters nearby.

That being said, whether you end up cracking your head on the sidewalk from the Grease or if, to your dismay, there’s enough Grimple present to knock your poor ass out with their rocks (and there typically is, since gremlins as a rule are rarely ever alone), you can bet you’re going to wake up A) without your belongings, B) smeared with unspeakable substances and likely with a case of Filth Fever, C) with everything they left you with stained via Prestidigitation or any garbage they have on hand, and D) with an infestation of unpleasant Gremlin Lice. These nasty parasites thankfully can’t survive on non-gremlin hosts for more than 24 hours, but ANY contact with the Grimple--no matter how brief--causes the irritating infestation to spread, inflicting a -1 penalty to concentration and initiative checks as the itch distracts the victim. Thankfully, a bath cleans off not only whatever substances the gremlins may have smeared you with, but their lice as well.

Still, if the adventurer wasn’t motivated to get a cold iron dagger before, they likely will be after that.

You can read more about them here.

[rockislandadultreads]

Nonfiction Thursday: Native American Heritage Month

A Mind Spread Out on the Ground by Alicia Elliott

In an urgent and visceral work that asks essential questions about the treatment of Native people in North America while drawing on intimate details of her own life and experience with intergenerational trauma, Alicia Elliott offers indispensable insight into the ongoing legacy of colonialism. She engages with such wide-ranging topics as race, parenthood, love, mental illness, poverty, sexual assault, gentrifcation, writing and representation, and in the process makes connections both large and small between the past and present, the personal and political - from overcoming a years-long battle with head lice to the way Native writers are treated within the Canadian literary industry; her unplanned teenage pregnancy to the history of dark matter and how it relates to racism in the court system; her childhood diet of Kraft Dinner to how systemic oppression is directly linked to health problems in Native communities.

With deep consideration and searing prose, Elliott provides a candid look at our past, an illuminating portrait of our present, and a powerful tool for a better future.

An Afro-Indigenous History of the United States by Kyle T. Mays

Beginning with pre-Revolutionary America and moving into the movement for Black lives and contemporary Indigenous activism, Afro-Indigenous historian, Kyle T. Mays argues that the foundations of the US are rooted in antiblackness and settler colonialism, and that these parallel oppressions continue into the present. He explores how Black and Indigenous peoples have always resisted and struggled for freedom, sometimes together, and sometimes apart. Whether to end African enslavement and Indigenous removal or eradicate capitalism and colonialism, Mays shows how the fervor of Black and Indigenous peoples calls for justice have consistently sought to uproot white supremacy.

Mays uses a wide-array of historical activists and pop culture icons, "sacred" texts, and foundational texts like the Declaration of Independence and Democracy in America. He covers the civil rights movement and freedom struggles of the 1960s and 1970s, and explores current debates around the use of Native American imagery and the cultural appropriation of Black culture. Mays compels us to rethink both our history, as well as contemporary debates, and to imagine the powerful possibilities of Afro-Indigenous solidarity.

Canyon Dreams by Michael Powell

Deep in the heart of northern Arizona, in a small and isolated patch of the vast 17.5-million-acre Navajo reservation, sits Chinle High School. Here, basketball is passion, passed from grandparent to parent to child. Rez Ball is a sport for winters where dark and cold descend fast and there is little else to do but roam mesa tops, work, and wonder what the future holds. The town has 4,500 residents and the high school arena seats 7,000. Fans drive thirty, fifty, even eighty miles to see the fast-paced and highly competitive matchups that are more than just games to players and fans.

Celebrated Times journalist Michael Powell brings us a narrative of triumph and hardship, a moving story about a basketball team on a Navajo reservation that shows how important sports can be to youths in struggling communities, and the transcendent magic and painful realities that confront Native Americans living on reservations. This book details his season-long immersion in the team, town, and culture, in which there were exhilarating wins, crushing losses, and conversations on long bus rides across the desert about dreams of leaving home and the fear of the same.

We Refuse to Forget by Caleb Gayle

In We Refuse to Forget, award-winning journalist Caleb Gayle tells the extraordinary story of the Creek Nation, a Native tribe that two centuries ago both owned slaves and accepted Black people as full citizens. Thanks to the efforts of Creek leaders like Cow Tom, a Black Creek citizen who rose to become chief, the U.S. government recognized Creek citizenship in 1866 for its Black members. Yet this equality was shredded in the 1970s when tribal leaders revoked the citizenship of Black Creeks, even those who could trace their history back generations - even to Cow Tom himself.

Why did this happen? How was the U.S. government involved? And what are Cow Tom's descendants and other Black Creeks doing to regain their citizenship? These are some of the questions that Gayle explores in this provocative examination of racial and ethnic identity. By delving into the history and interviewing Black Creeks who are fighting to have their citizenship reinstated, he lays bare the racism and greed at the heart of this story. We Refuse to Forget is an eye-opening account that challenges our preconceptions of identity as it shines new light on the long shadows of white supremacy and marginalization that continue to hamper progress for Black Americans.

[whynotshaveme]

The Ridgemont School For Girls

By whynotshaveme

Olivia Holland's crown of blonde curls started to itch the moment that she entered the abandoned Ridgemont School For Girls. Forced to go in alone, due to the refusal of her normally ride or die all female team of paranormal investigators, she ignored the itch and continued exploring.

She eventually ended up in a white room with a leather chair with wicked looking straps in the center. Fascinated, she ran her fingers over the straps, wondering how they were used. A tall patrician woman in an old fashioned nurse's uniform joined her. There was a neat white cap covering her head.

"Hello my child," said the woman, "are you new to the school?"

Mesmerized by the woman and unable to speak, Olivia nodded. The woman smiled as she approached her. With pleasant efficiency, she stripped her naked and then eased her into the chair. She used the straps to secure her wrists and ankles. Much to Olivia's alarm, her legs were open and spread eagle, leaving her privates only hidden by her full bush.

The nurse took a pair of old-fashioned hand clippers from her apron pocket. She whispered smoothing things to Olivia as she used them to strip away her curls.

"You will feel so much better once you're shaved," she cooed, "and there's nothing for the lice to hide in."

Once she finished with the clippers, she covered Olivia's scalp, brows, and bush with a thick shaving lather. Then she carefully shaved her smooth with a pearl-handled straight razor. Pleased with the final result, she showed Olivia her new look in an hand mirror. Tears quietly dripped from Olivia's eyes at her baldness even though her mouth couldn't voice her objections.

The nurse noticed Olivia's tears and then wiped them away. "Oh, it's not that bad," she said, removing her cap and revealing her own bald head. Then she knelt down before Olivia's fully exposed privates.

Around sunrise, Olivia's crew found her bald, naked, and still reveling from the pleasure of the nurse's tongue. They weren't suprised. It's why they didn't want to enter the school. Olivia Holland was the 10th documented victim of the ghost of the nurse of the Ridgemont School For Girls.

[byenits]

Head Lice Removal Made Easy: The Best Salon in Dubai for Lice Treatment

Dealing with head lice can be a stressful and frustrating experience. These tiny parasites are not only an inconvenience but can also cause itching, discomfort, and embarrassment. Thankfully, residents of Dubai no longer need to worry, as the city is home to some of the best lice treatment services available. If you're searching for the ideal lice removal salon in Dubai, look no further than our trusted solution for head lice removal.

Why Professional Lice Treatment is Essential

Head lice infestations can happen to anyone, regardless of hygiene or lifestyle. While over-the-counter treatments may seem like an easy fix, they are often ineffective, especially in severe cases. Professional lice removal salons in Dubai offer a safer, faster, and more reliable solution to eradicate lice completely.

With state-of-the-art tools and proven techniques, these salons ensure every strand of hair is thoroughly treated. They also provide aftercare advice to prevent re-infestations, saving you from the cycle of repeated treatments.

The Best Lice Treatment in Dubai

When it comes to head lice removal, finding a salon that specializes in this service is crucial. Dubai’s top salons offer:

Experienced Technicians: Trained professionals use advanced tools to remove lice and nits meticulously.

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Our salon stands out as the premier destination for lice removal in Dubai. Here's why:

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Consultation: Discuss the extent of the infestation and the best treatment plan.

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Say Goodbye to Lice Today!

Don't let head lice disrupt your peace of mind. Visit the best lice treatment salon in Dubai for a hassle-free and effective solution. Our professional services are designed to make head lice removal easy and stress-free, leaving you with healthy, lice-free hair.Contact us today to book your appointment and experience the difference with Dubai’s leading lice removal salon! Reclaim your confidence and enjoy life without the nuisance of lice.

[codiecoda]

Wash Away The Emotions - Anthony Ivo/Joseph Martin Fanfic

Joseph forces Ivo into the shower

[Drabble Prompt: Cry me a river.]

It was no secret that there were certain rules that prisoners were required to abide by during their sentences, but when it came to Ivo, he had Joseph around to ensure that he followed them. It hadn't ever been an issue for Ivo to cooperate with the rules outside of the occasional outburst, escape attempt, or refusal to eat, but the real issue started when the rule about showers was implemented. It was made in order to combat the lice issue and to help keep down on disease. It was a rule that made sense, but sometimes Ivo had issues when it came to this rule due to his mental health issues. Prisoners were required to shower three times a week at a minimum, and at this point, Ivo hadn't made even a single attempt that entire week, which led to Joseph's intervention. It was a bad mental health week for Ivo, and he wanted to sleep, but when it came down to it, that didn't matter to the ones in charge.

“You need to shower before lunch; otherwise, there will be consequences. I know that you don't want to be thrown in the shower again.” Joseph reasoned as he made his way into the other man's prison cell, recognizing how he proceeded to face the concrete wall instead of answering. “Ivo, come on, it won't take more than twenty minutes, and then you can come back to bed.”

“I shouldn't be forced to shower at your convenience. I don't want to move.. I want to rest here, so unless you can move the shower in here, I want to be alone.” Ivo responded as he continued to lie there, becoming unsettled the moment he felt his blanket being moved. “Joseph, what are you—”

However, before Ivo had time to finish his statement, he was thrown out of bed and taken to the shower room. Joseph made an effort to obtain what he would need ahead of time, but it was clear by the way that Ivo fought against him that he would not cooperate through this process. It took several attempts to remove Ivo's clothes, and it didn't help that Ivo tried to crawl away from him several times during this event. It was once his clothes were removed that the real task started. Joseph knew that he would need to change his clothes once he was finished, as he had to crawl into the stall with Ivo to assist him.

It was clear that Ivo would have rather been shocked in comparison to this, as he did his best to escape the other man. It was a process that made him feel violated in more ways than he felt he could talk about. It didn't help that Joseph made an effort to wash his more intimate areas with the utmost care.

“I'm almost done. It wouldn't take nearly as long if you would work with me on this. I mean, the biting seems like a bit much even for you.” Joseph noted as he held the man's wrist above his head to wash under his arms, not seeming as bothered as he assumed he would be by the fresh wounds to his neck. “You should know better than to bite me outside the bedroom.”

“If you would remain in one place for an extended period, I would tear out your throat without issue.” Ivo threatened as he continued to escape, not missing how the other man's expression dropped in an instant. “I swear next time that cock comes near me, it won't ever come near me for a second time.”

Joseph did his best not to let himself be impacted by Ivo's words as he worked to finish his task. It was only once he was satisfied with Ivo's level of cleanliness that he moved on to drying him off and assisting him into some clean clothes. He knew Ivo hated his hair being brushed and touched by others, but he could not deal with it becoming matted for a second time. It was an uncomfortable process, and some unkind words were said, but Ivo looked almost better than he did when he first arrived once he finished.

“You touch my hair again and I'm breaking your fingers.” Ivo noted as his hair was braided, not bothering to put up a fight as he was led back to his cell. “I hope that you don't plan on making this a routine thing.”

“You look so much better now.” Joseph praised as he brought him back to his cell, changing the man's bedding before he let him back in it again. “You can rest now. I know how tired you must be from that whole ordeal.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65486845

[babylove007]

Poor Sleep Last Night

I AM NOT GOING TO KINGSTON GENERAL HOSPITAL THEY STILL THINK THIS IS SOMEHOW FUNNY

Today is March 26th, 2025 I keep repeating my left and right lymph glands were drying and google earth mountain forming up into my vocal cords. My voice/breathing got hoarse and wheezy. It remained on the left side worse as I slept on that side. Posted On Facebook Last Night

Pictures (Hold onto Mom, she's going to realize the white isn't lice, it's heads and tails. With more out about the eyebrow)

12:09am March 26th 2025

Ginnip Pit/Mini Lime Baby Mass In The Right Teet Too Same side as the Monroe piercing

SOS SOS SOS

Someone please send Tylenol/Motrin freezies to me at 38 Cowdy St, Kingston

I let Jordan at the door know, to get me/wake me up if anybody comes to pick me up or drop some off

The 5 teeth leeches pockets are really bad

I am cold

And it is deodorant, tiger balm, toilet paper and a bunch of other shit

The multiples along my spine are very bad.

The 2 mini black kidney bean lentils, inside two small chickpeas at the right eyebrow/clamp hole/ear vent very bad too.

SOS SOS SOS

——————-

Between the “What a whore” look from some woman at the pool change room

And the sound of Bobby’s voice

You bet my body is responding like I’ve been doused by another Const. Paul Howerchuck

1:06am

Leech Multipes Behind My Ears

Top of my glands

Lentil In Right Gland With Tiger Balm Ointment Heat

Heads and tails in my hair

Baby lentils behind the right eyebrow and behind my nose, left side hurts most

Also, lentil in the right arm where the police officer removed me from KGH

And removal from Grenfell

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

Dominican Leeches

This is how old I was, how sick I already

Posted On Facebook Last Night

11:21pm Also blood came up out of my left 2nd earring holes today, crusted over

Hi it’s Lycee, it’s 11:18pm and I’m not googling no god dam 5 tooth leeches

But god I need some help

And yes that was me laying in bed wishing I had a baby Tylenol/Motrin pacifier,

I like the freezie ones I’m just cold, but also water so god yeah I need some help

——————————

Pinching At 11:10pm

Okay so the multiples

Down the middle of my stomach, some toilet paper some something else

First I question 5 acupuncture needles, then 5 teeth leeches from the Dominican, so close together

Lower right abdomen above appendix area, toilet paper makes some sense but comes too close to something important

Sharp pinch under the second toe in from the left

(Where the cut/bone shape cut was)

I’m getting up to drink pop because the picking is very very bad

Deodorant, toilet paper, head and tail multiples

I must have been COVERED and I mean COVERED all over in this thin 5 tooth leeches

**I remember bending forward expecting them to hang like a shag curtain, dark red/brown and thin like fine point markers**

You know that’s the picture of me and my dad with the book on the boat right? That was the age of all of us back then.

tagged/freezies tagged/poorsleep tagged/purpleelephant I can't find the fever freezies with the purple elephant on it.