#HOW TO ENDING???

[missjoolee]

For the physical intimacy prompts - Resting your head in your partner's lap. Only if you feel like it! <3

(I WAS ALMOST IN BED. I ALMOST WAS UNDER THE COVERS AND THEN THIS SAID “NO. GO WRITE THE JUKE. GO WRITE FOR THE JEUDI.” AND THEN I DID)

Writing has always been Julie’s way of addressing her feelings. The ones she is sure of tend to make their way to her notebook, or Luke’s, but it’s the ones she is unsure of, that she’s testing the waters on what words are best to describe how she feels, that find their way to her dream box. And recently, she’s been having... thoughts. Ones she’s not sure of. Ones that definitely cannot find their way into a notebook a certain band-mate might see. She’s feeling pretty confident that allowing the words to stew for a few days in her dream box, settle into her bones, will bring her clarity. She just has to trust the process.

It’s as she’s folding the scrap of paper and reaching up to grab the box that she glimpses lights on down in the studio. That’s odd because she knows she turned them off when the band called it quits for the day, having to get home for family dinners and do homework for the next day. Glancing at the clock, she sees it’s after 10:30, way past curfew for any of them on a school night.

It’s probably nothing. She grabs her phone and heads out of her bedroom. There is no reason to suspect that someone has broken in. Lots of people have access to the studio, the guys are constantly in and out of the building. She probably just missed a text or something. She taps on the screen of her phone to check. Nothing. Okay, so maybe it’s not one of the guys but that doesn’t mean that it’s anyone dangerous! Maybe a homeless person wandered in, all she’d have to do is ask them politely to leave. It’s really probably not a thief. Oh god, but what if it was?! There is a lot of expensive equipment in there. And the whole neighborhood knows! It’s not like they’ve tried to hide the fact that the band practices there. By now, she’s made it to the bottom of the stairs and maybe she should just grab the bat out of Carlos’ baseball bag. Just as a precaution.

After she steps out of the house and closes the door gently behind her, she calls Flynn.

“Hey, Underachiever! The calculus homework giving you problems? Eyy? Get it? Problems?”

“Flynn!” Julie whisper shouts as she starts creeping along the path around the house. “There is someone in the studio!”

“Wha- Call someone then!”

“I called you!”

“Jules, I mean like the cops or something! What good is it calling me?”

“I’m not going to call the cops,” Julie argues. “What if it’s one of the guys? Besides, if anything happens, you’ll know right away and can call the cops then!”

She can feel the unimpressed stare she knows Flynn would be giving her if she could. She slowly unlatches the gate and slips through.

“You better not be saying that you are going in. Alone. We have watched too many horror movies to be doing something that stupid, Julie!”

“I have a baseball bat!” Julie winces. That sounded a lot more helpful in her head. “Everything will be fine, Flynn. Calling you was just a precaution.”

The moonlight glints off something wedged between the retaining wall and the trash bins. She keeps low as she speed walks over to investigate, Flynn’s voice going into detail on how bad a plan this is. A bike leans against the wall. One she recognizes for the Blink-182 and New Found Glory stickers near the handlebars.

Standing up straight, she interrupts Flynn. “It’s Luke... I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hangs up before Flynn can respond and tucks her phone into the pocket on the front of her hoodie. Cracking the studios door open isn’t as quiet as she hopes and Luke is already jumping up from the couch and approaching the piano,his back to her, by the time the gap is large enough to walk through.

“Luke? What are you doing here?” Her voice only holds curiosity but she can see how stiffly he’s holding his whole body. One of his hands moves up to his face but he doesn’t turn to face her. Something is wrong. She slowly drifts closer. His hand drops down onto the lid of the piano before he responds with a tight,

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

“Is everything okay?” She takes another step towards him. And another.

“Y-yeah.” It sounds like his voice is getting caught in his throat with the word. “Ev-everything’s fine.”

Julie’s right behind him now and he’s still facing away from her. She reaches out and gently grabs onto his forearm, lightly pulling him to turn towards her. There’s the barest resistance before he gives in, shoulders slumping. Red rimmed eyes meet hers and her heart is breaking for him. For whatever situation is causing his eyes to brim with tears and breathe in a quiet sob.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he shakily lets out before it becomes too much and the tears begin to fall.

His body shakes as the tears become rivers, flowing down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. Julie doesn’t let go of his arm and pulls him back over to the couch, pushing him to sit down. She moves to sit down next to him, leaving more space between them than ever had before, just for a moment. Because then she tugging on his bicep to get him to lay down, head resting against the soft fleece of her pajama pants. She doesn’t know the cause of his pain but she will do everything she can to comfort him through it.

“Shhh. You’re okay,” she says quietly, running her fingers through his hair. Brushing it back from his forehead. Lightly scraping her nails against his scalp. Over and over she does this as he cries, her pajamas becoming damp. She holds him with her other hand, and she whispers the words her mom would whisper to her when it was Julie that needed comforting. As his sobs begin to fade and the sniffles increase, he reaches up and grabs her hand and clutches it against his chest. It’s then that Julie determines that the words she put in her dream box earlier were truth. She loves Luke. And while right now is not the time to confess those feelings, nothing is stopping her from showing them by continuing to comfort him.

His breathing slows down and the sniffles stop, and Julie can’t stop herself from leaning down and brushing her lips against his forehead as sleep takes him.

[kavaleyre]

• The Hanged Man •

“Compared to what Falin went through? This is nothing.”

[lazylittledragon]

can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The math just adds up!

[birdemic]

we have to stop letting the usa have such control/influence over international politics

[the-dragon-girl-27]

It is the middle of a Sunday afternoon. You have nothing on, and aren't expecting visitors, deliveries or post.

Unexpectedly, there is a knock at the door.

you are greeted by...... her

[cemeterything]

i do enjoy "living weapon" characters but specifically living weapons who did in fact do absolutely horrific things which at least a part of them enjoyed and thought was good and right at the time, and that no amount of not knowing any better or guilt they feel in hindsight will ever make up for. i love living weapons who are "irredeemable", and no it's not their fault that they were made that way or pointed in the directions they were by the hand that wielded them, and yes they are victims, but so were their victims. living weapons who some people will never be able to forgive, but who still wake up every day and try to do better than what's expected of them. a sword that uses its blade to cut wheat to make bread for the people who once lived in fear of its arc falling on their heads.

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[ciearcab]

how do you live?

[redsray]

I love the idea of the Wayne kids dropping extremely vague and disturbing comments during galas. Especially when in uncomfortable situations or if they're just bored. They pull out things from their nightlife too. Other times they just make shit up.

Socialite: Oh, dear, your cheeks look so sullen! Who sucked the life out of you?

Tim, dead serious: An old man with a goatee.

Socialite: Uh... what?

Dick: Once I broke my knee so badly that I swear I could see part of the bone sticking out.

Socialite: Good lord. How on earth did that happen?

Dick: Just clumsy gymnast things ^^

Socialite: The white streak is certainly a bold fashion choice.

Jason: I saw someone get decapitated once, so I could be doing worse in terms of what's on my head, yknow? At least I have one.

Socialite: What's your favourite colour, sweetie?

Damian: Red.

Socialite: Oh that's lovely!

Damian: Like the blood of my enemies.

Socialite: Oh.

Socialite: You must be new to these kind of events.

Duke: Uh, yeah, they're kind of scary. But I've had worse.

Socialite: Worse.

Duke: Well I've been left on top of a skyscraper before with no way down just to 'get over my fear of heights' so, yes.

Socialite: You don't talk very loud, do you? I can barely hear you.

Cass, with a straight face: If I spoke any louder every glass in the room would shatter.

Tim, behind her: I can vouch.

[ash-and-starlight]

humble contribution

[morebird]

Father Astarion

[twilight-zoned-out]

Learning about the Doctor Who specials' expanded budget: oh no, what if they overuse CGI to look more 'professional' and high-budget?

The first scene of the Doctor Who Special:

[bluegiragi]

stuck between a rock and a hard place...

(this piece was not so subtly inspired by the fic Where Moonlight Meets the Sea by MildLimerence! Leave a kudos and a nice comment if you enjoyed her writing!!)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Must be a Sugondese joke.

[remindertoclick]

Here's your reminder to Click for Palestine today! 🕊