#...i guess i'm tagging these

[shoshiwrites]

AU prompt week (as it's unofficially become) is a go! Original post here.

AU: Joe is a cemetery groundskeeper and Jo is back from the dead. May or may not involve a (very) cold case and a dash of reincarnation. Prompt/s: "teatime," "fireplace." Requested by: @mercurygray.

He’s got a space heater.

It makes the whole living room smell like dust and also sort of like feet, if he hasn’t cleaned too deeply, but it’s the quickest thing he has for warming up the place. She must be used to fireplaces, right? Some kind of ornate shit with pokers and a mantel. 

She must be used to fancy dresses too, if- if what she’d been buried in was any indication. The delicate lace lies on the hardwood floor of his bedroom, as neat as he could make it, like a chalk outline. He’d been too afraid to try hanging it. 

He blinks a little, and his eyes don’t feel used to it. 

Fireplaces, and fancy dresses, and tea, right? That was what people drank? He doesn’t have any tea, although if he did a deep enough dig into the cabinets there’d probably be some old packets of Lipton left over from the previous tenant. Back in the cobwebs. 

He’d made coffee.

He sips at his own mug, too distracted to register the taste. He’ll be up all night on this stuff, not that it matters. Well, Ma, you asked me last week when I’d bring home a nice girl.

He doesn’t know if she’s nice. All he knows is that her face has more color now, sitting on his couch, in his sweats, drinking coffee out of a mug Bill got him that says Certified Shovel Operator. 

What is she thinking?

His brain can’t grasp at anything long enough to answer. He watches the shadows under her chin, gaze darting to her eyes as she sits transfixed by the heater, the dull red glow. 

“It’s almost like an electric brazier, isn’t it,” she asks. 

He doesn’t pull out his phone to make sure he knows what that is. Brazier? Is that how you pronounced it? He huffs a little shock of a laugh that doesn’t feel like his own breath. 

“Isn’t it?” she repeats, more softly, stroking her index finger along the side of the mug. 

“Yeah,” he says, and she nods, something like a smile flitting across her face. Like she’s happy to know something, happy to have something familiar, or close to it. He thinks he makes one back at her. She dips her head in reply. 

If he has any hope of an hour or two of shut-eye before the morning he’d better try now. …Nope. Not happening.

He thinks about asking her if she wants more coffee. Maybe some toast. He thinks about turning on the TV. The game would probably be on a replay now. Out the window, stars shine in the cold clear sky. 

How long has it been since she’s seen stars?

He swallows every question. Is she tired? Does she want to sleep? Is she afraid? Maybe coffee wasn’t so good for nausea, if that’s what this is.  

She looks human, doesn't she? Even in this terrible light he can see pink in her cheeks. He’s relieved; that means she’s getting warmer. He thinks there’s an extra blanket at the back of the closet. Maybe two.

For now though, it’s impossible to move. Impossible to do anything but sit here with her, stave off the night a few hours more, make it so she isn’t alone.

[robyn-i-guess]

liking someone platonically is so embarrassing like. yeah i admire you. yeah i think about you all the time. yeah i look forward to every time i see you even if it's only for a minute. yeah it's all platonic and yeah i couldn't explain this because it'd sound romantic. fucking hell

[autistickaitovocaloid]

Today in vc we discussed the concept of a gmod funeral so I drew my interpretation.

[nicecrumbart]

Keep thinking about that one scene in secret life

[iwasbored777]

The guy at the bar: Are you two gonna fuck or fight?

Wade and Logan, few hours later:

[pangloss-artee]

pacifica got the "cut hair to show character development" treatment bc i think she deserves it

[mozzaremi]

dew it yourself

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[kaereth]

Been playing Slay the Princess and Witch Princess is my fav so far

nya >:3

[akolnoix]

the fairies and i just made some... figgy pudding

[felondese]

ty to youtuber ashe for sharing the most important information about veilguard to date: photo mode view of hugging, patting, and booping assan

[egophiliac]

time for skeleman

with the lack of any other info yet, all I can focus on are those Charles Lloyd-looking sunglasses. they are absolutely sending me. I feel like we're gonna fall through a tree or whatever and this stitched-up boney gentleman is gonna pop out from behind a gravestone and start serenading us with some smooth jazz on the saxophone.

or should I say...the saxoBONE???????

[wardingshout]

apple season

[hopeinthebox]

bts + reductress headlines pt.14

[demaparbat-hp]

Little Zuzu for an incoming project 🔥