#HELLO THERE GUESS WHO'S BACK

[purrvaire]

summary:

“Are you alright?”

Luke blinks hard - he’s not gonna cry in front of a stranger, he’s not - and looks up. His seatmate is staring at him. Vaguely, Luke recognizes him from the queue at the gate. He takes a deep breath. “Not so much, but for the purpose of this conversation, I will be.”

Which, in retrospect, didn’t make him sound like a sane person, but what the hell. His day can’t get any worse. His voice comes out higher than he expects and wobbles dangerously at the end of the sentence.

The man, bless him, looks momentarily puzzled but, instead of backing off and finding himself virtually whatever seat is affordable, he just shrugs, as if saying fair enough. He sits next to him and, after a moment of deliberation, offers him a tissue.

“I won’t judge, promise”, he says quietly, as if he’s talking to a spooked animal.

Luke holds the tissue between his fingers like a precious relic and, promptly, bursts into tears.

.

.

in which luke and din get dumped on the same weekend, meet on the plane and life is not a rom-com until it really, really is

[pestiforousalt]

Wip of a Longan Dragon Cookie design. Less of an.. idealized version, and more of a detailed character look that isn't the CookieRun art style. With a couple headcanons. I guess Gijinka might be the term to call it?

Anywho,

I did want to slightly change their robes though, because given their seemingly never-ending age, I have some inspiration from Roman and Greek cloths and how they would fold these huge fabrics into togas. The original design is very reminiscent of it to me. It's all still a work in progress, though.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I may be going insane

[expelliarmus]

[jadewritesficshere]

Warmth

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie takes you home after work (1150 words)

Contents: Reader suffers from chronic pain, smoking weed, no gender descriptors for reader, reader is called Baby

Please note I am not a doctor and do not take any medical advice from me ok thanks also each person's health is different from someone elses so please be kind to each other thanks bye

You sigh as you finally lock the door for the store. You had started the day out with working your regular shift. Which had been fine, even if you had felt a little stiff. Then that coworker called in sick...again. And your boss begged you to stay late...again. You had wanted to say no, but the prospect of getting a bit extra in your paycheck, well, you couldn't pass it up.

But now your body was screaming at you. Working for twelve hours had your joints aching. Some days you could barely roll over in bed without the pain. Could barely think a coherent thought as your joints and muscles screamed at you.

And other days, the good days, you felt you could run a marathon. Not because of an absence of pain, but the pain was so little compared to what you were used to it felt like nothing. Some days started like this and ended like the bad days.

And today was ending like a bad day. Especially because that one manager, the one who seemed to not like you, was on duty. Your boss, the sweetest old man in the world, didn't care if you sat in a chair at your register. But the manager who came in for the evening shift once the boss was gone? Took it away and called you lazy, even if you were the best cashier they had.

You slowly but steadily made your way to the van that was sitting idle in the parking lot. Through the passenger window you can see Eddie smoking a joint. When you opened the door, startling Eddie, smoke furled out. You climbed in and slammed the door shut.

"You know this is just begging for someone to call Hopper right?" You groan as you turn to grab your seat belt. "Figured you'd wanna smoke and relax a bit, thought I'd get it started for you." Eddie's arm reaches across you grabbing the seat belt before you could and buckling you in. "I can do it myself," you mumble.

"Yeah, you can. But maybe I want to take care of my Baby, hm?" Eddie hands you the joint," When you said you'd be late earlier, you uh said you already weren't feeling the best. Figured I could do what I can to help. Not that you can't do it yourself, you can, but you know-" "I know. Thanks."

It still was hard to accept that this is how your life was. Even harder to accept help. The thought that people were helping out of pity made you want to scream, even if you knew some people, like Eddie, were helping because they loved you not because they pitied you.

The van roars to life as Eddie presses the gas a bit too hard, causing the entire van to lurch. Eddie winces and mutters an apology. You inhale on the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You crack a window to let the smoke out, humming as you close your eyes.

By the time you make it to Eddie's, you can feel the weed in your system. Softening the edges of everything. The pain easing up slightly as you relax.

Eddie tumbles out of his side, almost face planting, as he rushes to get to your door. He throws the door open and bows, "My liege." You huff out a laugh as you graciously take his hand, gripping it tightly as you step down and out of the van. Eddie winks at you as he kisses the top of your hand, causing you to swat at him. Eddie chuckles as he drops your hand to go and open the door of the trailer.

You follow Eddie inside and to his room after kicking off your shoes. Your only thought is laying down and going to sleep. You barely shrug out of your uniform before collapsing onto his bed. Usually, Eddie would make some joke about getting naked, but tonight he forgoes that and instead dims he lights, sensing how tired you are.

Eddie's bed is old and yet somehow more comfortable then yours (probably because Eddie moves around so much in his sleep he doesn't stick to just one spot like you do, which causes your mattress to deflate and sink in one spot). You toss the nearest blanket over you, sighing in relief that you made it through the day.

You can hear Eddie enter and leave the room a few times, mumbling to himself. The sound of his rings hitting his dresser. The creaking of the drawers opening and shutting as he finds something to wear to bed. The distant beeping of a microwave going off before Eddie leaves the room again.

"Made you something," Eddie says as he reenters the room. "Not hungry," you mumble into the pillow. "Its not food- well, it is but not anymore? I mean we could eat it buuuuuttt..."

You peek an eye open to look at Eddie. In his hands is an oddly shaped lump. You can recognize the familiar pattern as the curtains in Eddie's room (and the realization there are no curtains anymore hits you). You can tell it was supposed to be a rectangle, but is more oblong like an oval.

Eddie gingerly places it against your back and- oh. It's warm.

Eddie crawls onto the bed next to you," Remember the heating pad? How it died? Well, figured might as well make my own and save us some money. Filled with rice, so if we really need to I guess we could eat it but I don't think that's uh the best idea."

"You sew?" You ask softly. Eddie grins at you," Mama taught me." Eddie readjusts the bag against you where it fell away. "Eds..." Eddie hums looking up at you," Yeah?"

"Thank you." "Anytime Baby. I'd do anything I can for you." You smirk at him," Anything?" Eddie rolls his eyes as he grins back," Weeelll-" you both chuckle. You roll back onto your side and close your eyes.

And as you lay there you think of how much Eddie loves you. How often he shows you his love. How he opens doors for you and closes them. How Eddie doesn't treat you as glass like some of your friends do, but how he still cares and makes you comfortable. How Eddie doesn't try to limit you and let's you set the pace for yourself. How Eddie took down his curtains to make you a heating pad because yours went out.

You reach back and slowly link your hand with his. Eddie hums slightly, linking your fingers, before shifting and wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer.

You can feel the warmth from the rice. The warmth of Eddie's body. The warmth from his breath as he falls asleep. And the warmth from your heart as it yells out how in love you are.

[what-aboutno]

Sorry about the blood. It's not mine

[argetcross]

wasting beats of this heart of mine by ArgetCross

Chapter 26 & 27: On the Coast / By The Cliffs

It was a beautiful spring morning. It always was a beautiful spring morning at my teacher’s house. We were discussing the quality of the soil and what could be done to improve it. I told her of what I had tried, how my attempts had ended up futile thanks to the winter storms washing the earth barren again. She served me kykeon, happy to play host despite the differences in our station. It was what I liked best about her. She had a lack of pretense, and I often felt more relaxed around her than my own sisters.

Read it here on AO3!

[bardicbeetle]

...So is patreon's newest spat with apple going to mean the proper end of the rate lock I got grandfathered into? Because that seems annoying as fuck.

[silversoulstardust]

wc: 611, rating: G, cw: processing grief

What if every year during Ace’s death anniversary Luffy goes a little quiet? Like, he still smiles, but his smiles seem sad. He eats, but he doesn’t ask for seconds. Instead of bothering Nami while she charts or messing around Usopp’s new inventions, he lies alone atop of Sunny and watches the sun until it sets, deep orange hues reminding him of his brother who burns bright right up till the end.

Any other day Law wouldn’t have minded it. Welcomes it, even, because just watching Luffy jumps around tires him out sometimes. 

But today is different. 

Law joins him atop of Sunny, quietly taking his place next to Luffy who acknowledges his presence with a hum and shifts to sit by hugging his knees to make space for Law. The younger man gives a side glance at Law but his sight falls on the vast ocean,witnessing the light reflection waltzing on the surface of the sea. Luffy’s attention goes back to the bright star. They watch the sun slowly slide under the horizon, taking daylight out with it. 

“You still have your friends,” Law breaks the silence after the last light disappears.

“I still have my friends,” Luffy echoes after a while, but his voice cracks around the edges. It’s nothing like the harrowing wail towards Jimbe after he woke up from a long surgery following the Paramount War, but that doesn’t make it any less sad.

“My friends are here. With me.” He sounds bolder this time. Sure with his words. 

“Yes,” Law stands up and offers his hand to the younger captain. “And they all are waiting for you. It’s dinner time, Mugiwara-ya.”

All day today Law witnessed Luffy’s crew tip-toes around the ship like they’re walking on eggshells. It’s the crew’s second time spending the day with Luffy on Ace’s death anniversary and they still haven’t quite found the rhythm to dance around it yet, barely skirting by it like the previous year. 

Law extends his hand for as long as it requires for Luffy to take it, patiently waiting until he’s ready to step out of the dark clouds. It doesn’t take long. Luffy is quick to bounce back, and that’s one thing Law’s certain. He takes Law’s hand to get back on his feet and flashes a small grin with his signature laugh. “And I have my best ally with me too!”

Law rolls his eyes fondly. He doesn’t disagree.

And by dinner time, it’s back to being a noisy affair.

Luffy’s seated at the center of the table boisterously laughing and drinking, with Usopp by his side singing off-key to the tunes of Brook’s violin, while Chopper is doing various comical gags to make Luffy laugh. Sanji keeps the food coming, looking significantly more cheerful being busy in the kitchen compared to this morning. Luffy looks at one side of the table, where his crew are seated, and then at the other side of the table where the Heart pirates crew are, clad in orange and white jumpsuits, an extension to his small family of ten after the alliance formation. He raises his drink for a toast. “For Ace!”

It stops everyone in their tracks for a millisecond. It’s the first time anyone in the room acknowledges what made the day different from any other day. Nami and Bepo’s lips wobble for a bit, but they raise their glass along with everyone on the table, a chorus of voices toasting for Luffy’s long dead brother, a mix of cheers and sobs. 

Law clanks his jug of beer against Luffy’s glass of milkshakes for a quieter toast. “For Ace. May he rest in peace.”

[bluescribble]

Warning : some form of ableism

Dave Today part 2

(Based from Andrew Hussie's and Hanni Brosh's Quality Time comic on Paradox Space)

[walkinginland]

when my time comes around

five times Jamie Fraser nearly dies, and one time he does canon-compliant 5+1 for Outlander part of my hozier song fics series; this one's based around "Work Song" aka the most JamieClaire song ever written.

one

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

Jamie Fraser is almost twenty years old the first time he truly comes near to death. Now, there had been no shortage of foolish boyhood accidents, and the illness that took his brother from him had not left him unscathed. But he is almost twenty years old, barely more than a child, the first time that he stares into that darkness, and feels it staring back.

The last few days have been a blur interspersed with sharp moments of startling, scarring clarity. Anger and shame and hurt and fear. He can’t comprehend how he had gone from pitching hay in Lallybroch’s fields to laying in a prison cell with his back flayed open and a burning infection creeping up his spine and into his limbs.

The fort physician has been kind, at least. Had let him cry, had set his hand gently on his shoulder, and done what little he could for Jamie’s shredded back. He had offered water and a bit of bread, said that it was important for him to keep his strength up. Jamie had taken some water, shook his head at the bread. He can’t imagine holding anything in his stomach when his whole body feels so hollow, carved out as cleanly as a hunted animal.

The physician’s best hadn’t been enough to prevent infection or erase the memory of the last time he saw his sister’s face, but it was something. He had handed him a worn out book, a worn-thin Bible with the smudged ink of fear-dampened hands.

“Here you are, lad. This belonged to another prisoner, but I reckon he knows the truth of it now better than any of us here do. Mayhap it’ll bring you some comfort.”

Jamie lays on his stomach on a creaking cot in a prison cell, trying to calm his spinning mind any way he can. He blinks at the tiny print of the Bible from an awkward angle, head tilted to the side and book resting on the edge of the cot, and tries to turn a page without pulling the muscles in his back. He had had no idea that the tips of his fingers were connected to the back of his shoulder in such an intimate way, but he is learning it now with every twitch in his hand.

He's not sure he is actually reading any of the words in front of him, couldn’t tell you which book or passage he has open before him. He could do without the chastisement of Saint Paul. Perhaps one of the Prophets, calling out doom and hope in the same breath. It feels fitting, somehow.

He steers far away from the whipping of Christ. Some things feel far different from a prison cell than they do in the pews in kirk of a Sunday.

His fingertips feel numb and the words in front of him blur, from tears or exhaustion or just the poor typeset and smeared lettering, he can’t tell.

The fingerprints and tear tracks that lived on these pages long before he opened them won’t judge him for the drops that find their way out of the corners of his eyes.

keep reading on ao3

[arolesbianism]

GUYS.

New dupe real! Also new pod????? Olivia is that you girlie speak to me

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

Hello Peeps I Am Back

I passed!!! My classes!!! Barely!!! A D+ is still a pass!

Anywho, I am now free! You can request any art/fic/etc. from me now that my (unfortunately mega-fat) hiatus is over!!!

And I'll gladly take messages/inbox stuff!!

Glad to be back y'all >:)

(Tagging some mutuals here :))

@indignantlemur @spirkiscanon69 @tuvok-enjoyer @zierzim @unknownfaceless-ds9 @jar-of-moondust

[rayfishandchips]

First foundation: nuclear power technology

Second foundation: psychologists can lowkey do psychic control and you can't even find them

hmm psych student here. can't wait to learn abt mind control in college.

[catboyolli]

Olli moments from Blind Channel: DOOMSDAY DIARIES vol. 5

[isa-ah]

yall ever end up thinking back on periods of ur life and ur like. bro what