#tw. mention of throwing up

[enbysiriusblack]

"I can't remember the last time I had a conversation with my mother that wasn't her telling me chores or schoolwork to do, or telling me off for not doing them."

Alice sat still for a moment before budging frank, "Hey. I've been meaning to ask you-"

"Hm?" He hummed in reply.

"Have you done your potions essay yet?"

Frank groaned and threw a sweet wrapper at her, "Fuck you."

She laughed and carried on, "It's due tomorrow, Frank. You don't want to disappoint your teachers do you?"

"Oh Merlin", he sighed, flopping backwards on her bed, "I think you're the most annoying person I've ever met."

She grinned and laid down too, turning her head to look at him. He looked back and they stared at each other for a few seconds.

She poked the skin above his lip, "Is that a moustache coming along?"

"Wait are you serious?" he jumped up in excitement, "do you have a mirror on you?"

Alice grabbed a small compact mirror from her bag and passed it to Frank, who immediately brought it up to his face and admired the small amount of hair slowly growing.

"You think I'm gonna ever have a huge beard, like Dumbledore or something?"

Alice laughed, "If you do, I'll help you braid it."

He stood with his hands on his hips, passing the mirror back to Alice, "since when do you know how to braid hair?"

"I have many skills, too many to tell them all to you."

Frank sat back down with a small laugh, "Of course, of course."

"Hey guess what?" Alice said, fiddling with the sweet wrapper.

Frank titled his head, "Hm?"

Alice grinned, "Mcgonagall gave me a biscuit."

He gasped, "She what?"

"Jealous?" She laughed.

"I've been dying to win her over! She still hates me and Kingsley for accidentally cheating on her last test!"

Alice laughed and laid back down, Frank following suit.

"Maybe you can win her by beating Slytherin next week."

Frank smiled back, "I'll work the team so hard they'll be begging for a new captain... apart from James, he'll probably love me even more for it."

Alice snorted, "He's cute."

"You would not be saying that if you were on the team. He's like a mini McGonagall with how much he yells at everyone. Definitely needs to be the next captain though, once we leave."

"Please don't remind me about having to leave", Alice grimaced, "I think I'll throw up."

Frank pulled out a packet of bertie botts beans from his robes, "Pleasant."

He opened the packet and chose one at random, "Oh okay. Yep that's vomit", he spat it out.

Alice moved away from the spat out jelly bean, "I feel partially responsible for that."

[dustykneed]

Wow. surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined? /ref Bones + Spock @ Jim (mcspirk)

here ya go anon !! thank you so much for the req<33

the reason bones and spock are always arguing is because every time they agree on something the universe will make jim do something completely reckless and stupid just to fill the old married couple bitchiness deficit in the space-time continuum. (also psst if jim hadn't interrupted his husbands in panel two spock would totally have worked his way up to resting his hand on bones' shoulder lmao)

[daisyjohnsn]

I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel, but I have lost people too.

You have no idea what loss is.

[greentrickster]

Lost the gastrointestinal lottery last night and got to pay homage to the porcelain god a truly shocking number of times in two batches as a result of what I can only assume is the world's least fortunate case of food poisoning. Please press F to sympathize with me, my poor abused tummy, and the mild dehydration I have almost certainly gotten as a result. :(

[stardustsides]

Fake Tweets from the Sides

these are dumb

part 2

part 3

[daggerhobbit]

do you ever feel like your heart is beating so hard you can feel it in your throat and it’s making you feel like you’re going to throw up

[thelampisaflashlight]

Have You Ever Eaten a Whole Bag of Sour Patch Kids

[This started as lore, and then turned into... whatever this is. I take my craft very seriously. Dew has a strange encounter.] Below the cut.

As Alice fell into Underland and thus deemed it Wonderland in her awe, so, too, did Dew tumble his way through the briars and brambles, and narrow paths of trees into the warm embrace of Hell.

He'd gone astray, a lost lamb -or perhaps a foolish wolf- gone without his shepherd; Over the guard rail that marked the divide between the road turned to gravel and the forest beyond.

Seeking shelter, sick from that first shock of falling, falling, falling down...

And the nauseous quake of too much alcohol and not enough food in his belly.

The dark night overhead, the stars hidden by clouds heavy with rain, the dull rumble of thunder getting closer.

His hands scraped up, bleeding from where he'd clutched to harsh pines and wicked thorns to stop his knees from buckling and losing himself among the brown needles strewn upon the ground.

It's never been clear to him... where and when his body gave out.

But the memory -the dream- of larger hands cradling him as a babe in arms, carrying him from the forest to the footpath, swaddled in pitch black furs of an animal unknown to him remains, persistant.

Rousing himself from a deep slumber beneath those same furs, Dew stares up at his ceiling.

Years have past since his arrival at the abbey, since his transformation into a ghoul, and his baptism into the church of Satan.

With a huff, he turns his head and eyes the clock on his nightstand.

4:30AM.

Too early to be getting out of bed on his day off, but the shifting of his body returns some sensation to other parts, and before he can reason with his bladder to go back to sleep, he's up and headed to the bathroom before he can piss himself.

His legs protest, and Dew decides he doesn't have the energy to stand up to take a leak, and plants himself firmly on his porcelain throne.

No sense in putting in more effort than is necessary, but as he's sitting there, and ever so slightly more awake, Dew reaches for one of the magazines he keeps in the bathroom.

An unsanitary practice, if you ask Aether, but Aether isn't here right now, and Dew has had enough late night regrets to not keep something worth reading in his on suite.

At the very least he isn't bringing his phone in the bathroom like SOMEBODY -Swiss- he knows.

...Flipping through a months old copy of Guitar World, he kind of wishes he'd brought his phone in here.

Dew hums and glances out at his bedroom, having not shut the bathroom door -he never does really, not unless someone else is in the room, and even then he's not exactly shy about this stuff- and feels his body go cold...

Someone's in his room.

A shadow is cast across his bed, a figure just out of sight.

He thinks, maybe, if he wasn't already in the process of doing so, he may very well have pissed himself from fear.

Startled, he gives an undignified shout and rushes to cover himself, screeching when-

"...Dew, I threw up..."

"AEON ERIK PHANTOMIME, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK-"

Aeon sniffles pathetically.

"Can I have a hug...?"

Dew looks at him aghast.

"...My pants are literally around my fucking ankles right now and you want a... How did you get in my room?? I had the door locked! And why the fuck didn't you knock... Geezus..."

Aeon does grabby hands towards him, looking utterly miserable.

"...Gimme, like, two minutes."

"...You need two minutes to pee?"

Dew throws his magazine at him.

"I need to fucking pull up my damned pants and wash my hands"

Aeon blinks at him.

"You wash your hands after you pee?"

"I'm pretending you didn't say that just now." Dew says, shooing him out of the doorway, "If you're not all gross, go lay down..."

Climbing back into bed after finishing up, Dew settles and groans as Aeon tries to cozy up to him, the lankier ghoul attempting to curl himself into a little ball against his chest.

Dew pets his back, if only because the slow, easy motion is soothing to him in its own way, "So, you think you caught some kinda weird bug, or did you just eat something strange again?"

Aeon hesitates, still attempting to worm his way, from the feel of it, into Dew's stomach.

"Have you ever eaten a whole bag of sour patch kids in one sitting..?"

"...No."

"Why did you pause?"

"Shut up and sleep, or I'm suffocating you with my body."

"...Yes, sir."

[idiot-mushroom]

was going through it last week

[gierosajie]

So I know that Venti drinks wine for the taste and company, but anyway, consider for a moment the idea of alcohol tasting bad for him and yet he'll always take an offer or invite for a drink because it reminds him of the happy times he used to have with his old friends

[exceptional-z]

Giving birth to a zombie is extremely traumatic to your body. The pregnancies are difficult, the birth is violent due to the feral nature of zombies in their natural state, and they receive next to no medical aid. It’s why so many zombies are raised by single fathers, why those who are lucky enough to still have their mom around are usually only children. To survive one pregnancy is rare enough, but a second zombie pregnancy is honestly testing fate at that point.

Zed’s mother died giving birth to Zoey. It’s all she’s ever known, though it’s not as hard on her when most of her zombie friends have similar family dynamics. At least in that way she’s not the odd one out. Zed did know his mom, he’d been old enough to understand what was happening when she started to get sicker and sicker as the pregnancy progressed. He refused to eat or speak for days after his dad had come home from the hospital alone with Zoey in his arms, without the woman who’d raised him, who was so kind and beautiful and genuine.

When Addison told him she was pregnant, he nearly threw up from the sudden, intense fear that surged over him like a tidal wave, threatening to knock him over. The memories came rushing back, memories he tried so hard not to think about. But this time it was Addison instead of his mom. In his nightmares, he watched her body grow skinnier as the zombie baby drained the life from her, stole her nutrients, kicked at her until she couldn’t keep anything down. He’d heard horror stories from others with similar experiences as his own, other zombies who were old enough to remember the loss of their mother.

He had never spoken to Addison about his mom before, but he couldn’t exactly keep it from her when she looked at him with such worry in her eyes, like she thought he was upset with her rather than angry at the world for making such unfair situations. So he opened up, cried into her arms as he described his feelings in detail that he’d never told anyone, not even his dad, not even Eliza.

“I won’t leave you,” Addison promised, “I’ll fight even if it seems impossible. I told you that someday we would have our happily ever after and no one can take that from us.”

[chaotic-orphan]

Delirious Villain x Hero Caretaker, part 3:

Read part one Here

Read part two here

TW(for all parts): panic attacks, sick villain, delirious villain, sick Whump, villain hates being sick, fear of being sick, past whump, older brother whumper, PTSD, family Whump, sibling Whump, forced to vomit, graphic depictions of fever and illness and hallucinations, panicked whumpee, hero caretaker, villain doesn’t want help, graphic depictions of throwing up, sweat, heavy manipulation

I know it took me a million years to upload this part, but I finally understand the writers WIP jokes now better, so, ahaaaah… eheh… ahem, anyways.

*~*~*~*~*

They wiped their eyes on their sleeve, eyebrows knitting together as they settled down again, lying on Villain’s shoulder, tucked up next to them cozy.

“Villain?”

“Yeah Hero?”

“The… your brother beating you… it doesn’t explain why you hate being sick,” Hero said. Villain laughed a little and Hero felt the vibrations on their cheek.

“Right, yeah. After a while, when we were older… I think I was thirteen, he was sixteen. We all got a takeaway from the local Chinese place. We were eating it at the dinner table, and it was all fine and good. Then after Brother told me to come with him. I remember I didn’t want to at first, but my mum insisted I do, so I did.”

“He walked up the stairs to the bathroom and when I got in he locked the door.”

“Did you enjoy your food?” Brother asked, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the door. The years had only made him taller, more handsome and broad. High school had turned him into an idol around town and everyone knew his name.

“Yeah, I did,” said Villain. “It was nice. Did you enjoy yours?”

“Yeah, I did,” said Brother, black eyes locked on Villain’s. His mouth twisted up into a pondering pout. “But I mean, I’m allowed enjoy unhealthy food because I work out a lot. You don’t.”

“I do,” Villain protested. “I work out everyday after school, and I’ve been eating well, the diet you gave me I’ve been doing it all to the letter, Brother, I swear.”

“Okay, so if I check your school bag downstairs I won’t find chocolate bar wrappers will I?”

Villain froze at the question. Brother pushed off the door, looming over Villain, backing them up until Villain’s legs hit the side of the bath and they sat on the edge of it, shrinking down small, but Brother kept crowding them.

“That’s what I thought. It doesn’t matter how much you work out or what diet you follow if you’re still going to eat junk food. You are what you eat, Villain. People who eat takeaway and junk food get fat. Do you want to be fat?”

“No, no, I don’t Brother. I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I pro—“

Brother’s hand shot out, wrapping around Villain’s throat and hurtling them back against the wall of the bath, their legs flying up as they fell.

“I am so sick of you and your fucking promises, Villain. They mean nothing. You know why? Because you are nothing. Yet you keep trying to worm your way out of the consequences. My patience is running thin.”

Brother squeezed Villain’s throat harder and Villain gasped and flailed, trying to escape to get air to breathe. Brother was stronger than them though, and held them there a moment longer before letting up and walking to the bathroom sink with a long, drawn out sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Villain gasped, hand’s going to their throat. “I’m sorry, Brother.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Brother said, gripping the sides of the sink and staring into the mirror. “I have tried with you, Villain. I have tried so hard to make you better. To make you perfect, likeable, loveable, anything more than this pathetic thing you are, but you make it so hard! Why can’t you just be better? Fucking god fucking damn it!”

Brother turned to face Villain in the bath, walked over to them and grabbed them by the collar of the shirt yanking them out. The motion was too quick for Villain to register, they couldn’t get their legs under them in time. Villain’s legs folded against the edge of the bath as Brother dragged them out, their knees hitting the bathroom floor with a heavy thud.

“Even your body knows where it belongs,” Brother hissed. “So why don’t you?!”

Brother dragged them to the toilet and flipped up the seat, dragging a struggling Villain to it. “No! Get off me! Mum! Dad! AGH—“

Brother laced his fingers through Villain’s hair and slammed his head against the toilet bowl. Villain bit his tongue with the impact, the taste of iron flooding his mouth and nose as his body was becoming more loose and struggles ceasing slightly.

“Look what you make me do! Just obey! Obey and all this will be easier on you, Villain. I’m doing this to help you! To make you better. Stronger, and you fight me the entire way!”

Brother let go of Villain’s hair and left them kneeling in front of the toilet. Villain spat some of the blood into the bowl in protest.

“What do you expect me to do?” Villain asked, the fight gone out of them. They just wanted this beating to be over with as soon as possible. They wanted to sleep.

“You’re going to throw up your dinner.”

Villain turned their head to Brother, eyes narrowing into a glare. “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

Villain put two hands on either side of the toilet bowl and stood up. Brother grinned, though his eyes betrayed the emptiness of it. The malice behind their smile. The sick twisted enjoyment of Villain being defiant.

“Getting brave now, are we?” Brother hummed, head tilting as they regarded Villain. Fists balled by their sides and that hatred fuelled glare told Brother he was in for a fight. Good. “You’re throwing up your dinner tonight, Villain. The choice is whether you want to do it, or I do it. Either way you’re not getting out of here until you do.”

“Hope you’re ready for the long haul then,” said Villain and they struck first. Brother hummed as Villain’s fist connected with their jaw.

“Maybe you have been working out,” said Brother, and he swung his fist. Villain ducked under Brother’s arm and used his momentum to shove him forward. Villain didn’t wait to see if he fell or how far, he turned to the door, unlocked it and bolted out of it and down the stairs.

Brother’s footsteps followed close behind, haunting Villain as they desperately ran to the front door, unlocking it and yanking it open. A hand slammed it shut above their head and Villain yanked at it with all their strength but it barely budged open again before clicking shut.

“Kids!” Dad said from the kitchen and Villain ran to them. To help them, save them. Brother yanked on the hood of Villain’s jumper, choking them but Villain scrambled out of the stupid jumper and kept running, fixing their t-shirt as they ran into the kitchen.

“Why are you two—“

“Brother has been beating me,” Villain all but screamed. He panted as his lungs tried to catch up with him, swallowing air like it was free pizza at the arcade. “He’s been beating me, all the time. That’s how I get the bruises. That’s how I get the cuts,” Villain said, showing them his patchwork arms that he hid beneath his hoodies and long sleeves.

Well not anymore. No more hiding. Screw that. Screw protecting their psycho older Brother.

Brother walked slowly into the room, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, Villain’s jumper in his fist. Black eyes watching Villain as they spoke. Completely unfazed.

“That’s why I’m wearing jumpers in July. That’s why I haven’t worn shorts all year. He has been beating me, cutting me, hurting me— and neither of you ever lifted a finger. Ever noticed how much he was hurting me, but you know now, so please… please…” Villain begged, tears flooding his eyes and streaming fat and fast down his face. “He told me I have to throw up the Chinese we just ate. He locked me in the bathroom with him and told me either I did it or he would make me. Make me throw up.”

The more Villain spoke, the louder the silence became as their parents looked both shocked and horrified at what Villain was telling them, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Please,” Villain sniffed. “Please say something. Tell him to fuck off. To stop hurting me please. I can’t live like this, I can’t.”

“Oh sweetheart, come here,” said Mum and Villain ran straight into her arms. She wrapped him in the warmest, tightest hug he had ever had and shushed him as he cried. Running gentle fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll sort this out, okay?”

Villain nodded against her shoulder.

“You want to explain what Villain just said, Brother?” Dad asked and Villain felt warmth flood through their chest as they realised that mum and dad believed them. They actually believed them, despite what Brother had told them all this time.

Brother let out a sigh. Villain turned to face him, stepping out of their mum’s arms and slightly in front of her. Inky black eyes followed Villain’s movements and settled on their face as they spoke.

“Villain is out of control,” said Brother, voice calm. “Ever since we were kids he has been picking fights with kids for no good reason, so I’ve been trying to help him out since he came into secondary school. He doesn’t… he just doesn’t listen. Everyone else, listens! He just again and again refuses my help.”

“Your help is making sure I can’t wear proper clothes anymore you dick!” Villain yelled, a hand on their shoulder calmed them as their mum shushed them.

“See what I mean?” Brother said, gesturing at Villain. “They have these outbursts all the time! I tried to reason with them for years, and I’ve just grown impatient. The only thing that Villain responds to is violence. It hurts me as much as it hurts them, but it’s just a fact.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to hurt them,” said Dad and Brother shook their head with a scoff.

“It does. Do you know how hard it is to be perfect? I have worked my arse off trying to make you both proud of me. Trying to be the best, I just want to help people, you know this. I want to be good, and join the Hero program. I want to make the world a better place.”

“That still doesn’t explain cutting and punching your brother, Brother,” Dad scolded, glancing back at Villain’s arms. “You have left them with scars!”

“That was the last resort, Dad! That was after they got into another fight at school with a teacher no less.”

“What fight?” Mum asked and Villain stiffened under her comforting hand.

Brother sighed again, more dramatically this time and ran his hand down his face, before finally stepping into the kitchen. Villain took an instinctive step back, their back hitting Mum. Brother didn’t even smile like they usually would at Villain’s fear. It sent a shiver up Villain’s spine.

“I think you should sit down,” said Brother, tone somber and heavy. He pulled a chair out for himself and sat down. Mum and Dad shared a look then did the same. All in their usual places. Mum and dad sitting across from each other. Brother and Villain sitting across from each other.

Brother threw Villain’s hoodie onto the table and Villain took it back hesitantly, before throwing it back on.

Hiding.

Again.

It felt like one nail in their coffin.

“Ever since we were kids,” Brother began, looking at Villain. “I have been protecting Villain from getting into trouble as much as I could. Which means, if he got into a fight with another kid I would smooth talk the other kid until I knew they wouldn’t tell a teacher or their parents or anything.”

“Why?” Dad asked.

“Because…” Brother said, throwing his hands up in a useless gesture. “I had built this pristine reputation. Everyone liked me. Everyone wanted to be friends with me, and then Villain comes along and gets into fights left and right, I didn’t want people to think bad of us. Or for either of you to be troubled by Villain’s fighting.”

“Is this true, Villain?” Mum asked, and Villain’s heart sunk to the bottom of their stomach.

Villain swallowed helpless, looking from Mum to Dad to Brother. “I— yes, but I wasn’t fighting for bad reasons! I promise!”

“How many fights did you get into?” Dad asked and Villain was quiet. “How many fights a week, then, Villain?”

“I—“ Villain said with a sigh, shoulders sagging. “I didn’t keep count.”

“There was that many?” Mum asked and Villain shrunk in their seat.

“There was about three fights a week,” said Brother, and Villain glared at him.

“No way there was three!”

“You just said you didn’t keep count,” said Brother matter of factly.

Villain turned to their parents and said: “I wasn’t fighting just to fight. I was fighting like how Brother fought. For people being bullied by other people. And sometimes even for brother—“

“Punching a bully only makes you a bully, Villain,” said Dad, shaking his head.

“Say that to the people being bullied! I was a bully, but I was a bully of bullies!” Villain protested. “The bullies were afraid of me, so they left other people alone.”

“There’s no need to raise your voice, Villain,” Dad chastised and Villain bowed their head and said: “sorry.”

Dad turned back to Brother then. “And Brother, you didn’t need to take this on board for us. You should have let those kids call home so we would know what is going on with Villain as it happens. We are the parents, not you.”

Brother had the audacity to look humbled by the reprimanding. “I’m sorry dad. I just thought… I’m Villain’s big brother. It’s my job to protect them. To help them. To guide them through the troubles of High school and now that they’re older they can’t think fighting solves everything. Especially not fighting with teachers.”

When Dad turned to face Villain again, and Mum was looking at Villain too, Villain saw the way Brother’s repentance morphed into a twisted grin. As if they already knew that they had won Mum and Dad over.

“What was the fight with your teacher about, sweetheart?” Mum asked gently.

Villain frowned, foreboding settling on their chest like a breezeblock, as they realised, it didn’t matter what they said. Somehow brother would twist the story and make themselves look good. They needed to be convincing and tell the truth.

“They said that Heroes were stupid, that they ruined our city and brought all the psychos and Villains into the spotlight, said we were wasting our taxes on them when they destroy our buildings and roads with their fighting.”

Even retelling the words that stupid teacher used made Villain’s hands curl into fists by their sides, how dare they say such a thing. Bet they wouldn’t be so cocky if a Villain was holding them hostage and a Hero saved them.

“And what did you do?” Dad asked.

Villain raised their head, chin jutting in the air and said: “I told him that it was very rude of him not to appreciate how hard the Heroes work to keep us all safe. Then he got mad at me and—“

Brother snorted from across the table. All heads turned to face him. Brother had the audacity to look innocent, but their eyes held that same knowing stare, twinkling with confidence that they could win their parents to his side.

“That’s not what I heard happened,” said Brother and Villain nearly lunged for him, but with the table in the way they wouldn’t be able to reach over and punch him. “I heard you called the teacher an idiot and caused a riot in your class over Heroes and Villains and where teachers fit into the spectrum.”

“That’s a lie,” Villain hissed, slamming their hands on the table. Brother beamed at that.

“See? Villain has issues, anger issues! They can’t even handle me telling the other side of the story.”

“The other side of a story you made up in your head, Brother! You’re lying!”

Brother sat back in their chair, smug, and scoffed. Folding their arms across their chest they said, “fine. All Mum and Dad have to do is call the teacher and they’ll tell them what really happened.”

“And?” Hero asked, voice gentle and soft and safe.

Villain hummed, a wry smile on their lips. “They went to fact check Brother’s story.”

“And what happened?”

“In the time it took them to make the call, Brother had me upstairs, wheezing, winded and over the toilet, spidery fingers down my throat.”

“Christ, Villain!”

“I know,” Villain said with a small laugh. “I guess the fear started there… and Brother… they knew how much it got under my skin, more so than the cuts and bruises, so he kept doing it. In school, out of school, on the way home. He was relentless.”

“And where is he now? Brother, I mean.”

“He was here earlier but I think he’s gone now, I think, shit, I must have been hallucinating or something,” Villain said, eyes widening slightly.

“Let’s just hope you start feeling better tomorrow, Vil.”

“I better. I’m looking forward to your chicken soup,” Villain hummed and Hero laughed.

“You just spent the last twenty four hours throwing up and all you can think about is food?”

“I’m a simple person, Hero, and your soup is like a miracle cure.”

“You’re putting a lot of hope in this soup,” said Hero and Villain laughed, cuddling closer to Hero.

“No, I’m not. I just— Hero… thank you for everything today.”

“You’ve done it for me before,” said Hero, “remember the food poisoning incident? That was not pretty.”

“Just take the compliment, crime fighter,” Villain murmured sleepily. Hero just smiled and kissed Villain’s head and said: “okay, Vil. I’ll take the compliment. Go to sleep.”

Villain’s soft, even breaths was Hero’s answer, and they smiled, and closed their eyes as well. Holding Villain closer than they ever have before.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[a-dog-with-different-paws]

I feel like I'm going to throw up :( I looked at something, uh, not good-

Tumblr needs to really get rid of these bots :/

Especially because I was just looking through a very VERY unrelated tag 😭 (#therian) (like what)

[karouvas]

something so insane about Adam saying “it wasn’t about you” to Gansey at the end of TRB and then again during the fight in TDT (defensively, angrily when he’s in a spiral of self sabotage) because there’s truth to it but it’s not True. Adam is always always always defining himself in relation to Gansey and yes he resents that but that still makes it About them. The fact that Adam had a dream about being responsible for Gansey’s death and That was the trigger for his decision to wake the ley line, to prevent that future. And to be his own person outside of Gansey while also not hurting/killing Gansey, but then at the same time he brings the gun with him not knowing what he’ll sacrifice but knowing for sure it can not be Gansey. That means it could be Whelk or it could be him (and it is both in a way) and either way he is sacrificing a part of himself for Gansey. And then when Adam does sacrifice a part of his autonomy to Cabeswater Gansey feels betrayed because he sees it as Adam’s sacrifice because belonging to anything else is better than accepting what Gansey tries to offer him but it is For and About Gansey that he did this and Adam Hates that. And then (I just started rereading TRK so I don’t remember the exact details) Cabeswater being in Gansey’s service or having his spirit or however that works makes it even more insane and that definitely adds to the context of Adam’s anger at him in TDT but I’ll come back to that part later just. You love your best friend so much and you hate your best friend so much and it’s not about them but everything is about them!

[bcbdrums]

A familiar sound caught Shego's ear, and she redirected her steps toward Drakken's room. As she drew nearer and the sound became clear, she cringed and her steps became more cautious as she approached his bathroom.

Sure enough, when she pushed the door open with one hand and peered into the brightly-lit room, she found Drakken where she expected to: clad in only pajama pants and white t-shirt, kneeling next to the toilet, and with his arms folded over the seat and his face pressed down into them. His black hair fell all around him and dangerously near the edge of the bowl, concealing his face. Though Shego didn't think she needed to see to know what expression he would be wearing.

Drakken's body ached. From his head to his toes, every limb and joint and muscle felt as if it had been put through the hardest escape from Possible ever with no opportunity of recovery. But worse than that was his stomach, which despite being emptied of all its contents still felt pressured and as if it needed to be forcibly removed from his body. But considering he had heaved until his throat was dry and only the faintest of acid came up, he had run out of options to alleviate the pain on that end, too.

He was prepared to stay there the whole night, aching head pressed into his forearms until sleep took him, but then he was roused ever-slightly from his misery by the feeling of cool fingers against his neck, tiny spots of ice grazing against the heat of his skin and soothing the pain ever so slightly as they moved, gathering his hair away from his cheeks until he felt the familiar motion of his hair being tied up at the nape of his neck.

"I told you you should stop swapping recipes with Stoppable," Shego said. "One of these days he'll send something to poison us. Like we should have done to him and the princess already."

Drakken took in the complaint, the annoyed tone to her voice. But he also took in the feeling of her hand resting upon his neck, the other checking his forehead for fever as she settled down next to him on the bathroom floor.

"I'll...send a 'special' spice along with... Nana Lipsky's apple pie recipe," he said with effort between breaths. "That'll...teach him for making me add... Pure capsaicin."

"I don't wanna know," Shego replied, her fingers combing Drakken's sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead.

He wanted to see her face; to see what expression of tenderness might be accompanying the atypical kindness and care. But he couldn't bring himself to lift his head or open his eyes, for fear the spell would break or reveal it all a dream. So he measured his breaths against the pain in his belly and the ache in his head and limbs, and let Shego's touch and presence soothe his soul.

[blipblepbloop]

ok i’m dying to know what ur realism gripe is about the body that you mentioned in the tags of your reblog of my post about it

BAHAHA ty for noticing my commentary hidden in the tags so i can make this rant post about it lmao

first off, im aware its a tv show and some things need to be dramatized or exaggerated for the purpose of achieving a certain effect in the show. especially in an episode like the body, a lot of choices went into very intentionally setting a tone for the episode. however, that being said-

towards the very beginning of the episode, buffy calls 911 and a couple of paramedics show up. they tell her that her MOM is DEAD, get another call, and UP AND LEAVE. and in real life they would absolutely NEVER FUCKING DO THAT and it drives me INSANE every time i rewatch it.

take this with a grain of salt because the extent of my medical knowledge is first aid and lifeguard training, but according to everything ive ever been taught about BASIC FIRST AID they absolutely should not have left her alone, because they weren't done treating every patient on that scene. buffy is quite VISIBLY in shock, which requires treatment just as much as a physical injury. yet all they do is tell her to sit down, ask her if there's anyone else coming, and then leave. like they don't even at least make sure she's sitting down or confirm in some way that somebody's coming before just leaving. maybe protocols and training with that sort of thing was different at the time that the ep came out, but i kind of doubt it. she could have fainted, she DOES throw up, and just...who actually thinks its a good idea to just leave someone whose mother just died and is clearly in shock completely alone?? certainly not trained medical professionals.

again, i could potentially be wrong about this, and im also fully aware it was for that dramatic intense effect the audience gets from her being left completely alone to deal with the fact her mom just died, but today at least that definitely is not how that would go down. at least one of the paramedics would have stayed behind and talked with her and made sure she was okay at least until giles got there. and it mostly just makes me upset for buffy because she should not have been treated like that lol.

[mirpkechi]

chat i feel physically sick im gonna throw up i keep thinking about school aaawgsjhdjrjdje!!!!!@!!!!!

idk about other schools but in england at least usually youll have a year group thats split into two halves [most schools have x band and y band, so if you were in year 7 for example thered be 7ax, 7bx, 7cx and 7dx, and then 7ay and so on. mine just has letters from a to h which are also split into two halves.] and the two halves dont have classes and stuff together and their timetables are different But!!!!!!! Turns Out The Classes Are Mixed!!!!!!! chat i cant take this im gonna Unalive Myself [/hj]

[the only good thing ig is that some mf that fucked me over moved down from set 1 LMFAOOOOO]