#AND I THINK I GOT MY PERIOD IDK

[blajah-blaster]

Literally too impatient for myself so Imm just gonna say it now, if my AU is good enough and gets a sequel it’d be something like;

Blondie: S..So you actually do like me? More than just friends?!?😳👉👈

Cupid: …Blondie we just watched Ginger get arrested right infront of us…

[fuupan]

drew these for heart pirates day and uhhhh ep1115

[walkingstackofbooks]

IPS/BIL AU where Tain dies before he can send the message. Garak and Worf never go to the gamma quadrant. Julian and Martok don't get rescued.

Back on DS9 the changeling is stopped pretty much just as it was in canon, with Kira and Dax managing to stop the Yukon from reaching the sun, just as it explodes. (Maybe since Garak is still on the station, he notifies Sisko that Bashir has taken the Yukon out?) This time, however, no-one knows it was a changeling, and among all the shock and grief, there's tense speculation about what the hell Julian was doing out there in a runabout with a bomb.

The changeling had planned to never be identified, believing it would sow more confusion and fear in the Federation if they believe one of their own had been secretly allied with the Dominion. And so the changeling had left behind a trail of "Julian" interacting with highly questionable locked-down message-boards such as "Would enhanced individuals be better off under the Dominion?", which would never have been tracked back to him apart from under such scrutiny he's now post-humously receiving. (The changeling knew about Julian's enhancements - to become something is to understand that thing, after all.)

Of course, it is considered whether Julian may have been impersonated by a changeling, but once the link to his enhancements has been revealed - and his parents can't hide it, they confess, and are sentenced to time in a penal colony - it seems very much decided that Doctor Bashir had become an augment extremist, biding his time on DS9 until he could play out his part in the Dominion plot. There's varying levels of acceptance of this among Julian's friends - even if it seems that they have to admit it, it's still almost impossible to believe that Julian could have tried to do that. But it doesn't really matter what they think - life has to go on, and the war's continuing whether they like it or not, and little by little they move on with their now-Julian-less lives.

Time passes. they get a new CMO. The Cardassians re-occupy the station, and Sisko leads the campaign to get it back. Worf and Jadzia get married. Garak gets a message.

A.L.I.V.E. J.S.B.

And no-one knows what to think. JSB can't be... can it? But how...

Garak argues that Doctor Bashir's death is so well-known that no-one would use his name as the basis for some sort of trap. Miles agrees. Everyone else wants to agree. (For a certain definition of 'want'. Julian being alive, not a traitor... that also means he's been doing somewhere in the past ten months, and it's difficult to think about what sort of awful place that might have been.)

Garak and Worf are sent out to chase this signal - in theory, it's recon, but naturally it quickly devolves. They get captured themsleves, finding Camp 371 and Julian, looking ten months worse for wear. Garak learns about Tain's death, and the subspace transmitter he'd began working on and that they'd only just been able to finish, having managed to recruit a recently-abducted Starfleet engineer. An engineer who's currently in solitary, leaving them with a plan to escape now there's a runabout in orbit, but no way to effect it. Unless there's something Garak can do...

And Worf, of course, meets Martok, and is impressed by the Klingon's tale of daily fights for nearly three years. "Almost every day," Martok corrects him. "There have been times when I've woken up with a sore head to find that the doctor has taken my place."

Worf looks to Julian, nodding. "So you are the man we remember," he says. "Your enhancements may have helped you fight, but it was an honourable thing to volunteer."

"My... my enhancements?" asks Julian faintly. "What- what do you mean?"

"Commander, is now really the time—" Garak tries to interrupt but Julian speaks over him.

"No, Garak, I want to know— I-I need to know. What do you mean, Worf?"

And Worf, in his short, succinct way tells Julian how they had believed he had died, and what they had discovered thereafter, and while they know now that he is not an augment extremist, his parents' confession made it clear that he is an augment.

Julian doesn't say very much after that, apart from what is needed to help with the rescue - he calms Garak down, he volunteers to try and figure out what needs doing in the crawl space ("I've learnt at least a few things from tinkering with it over those seven months...") - but otherwise, he's withdrawn and spacey. Garak perserveres - he must get Julian back to DS9, has to hope there's still time to rekindle that light in his doctor's eyes - and manages to get them out, and even locking onto the engineer's life sign in solitary. They make it to the runabout, and escape.

It's a very different sort of homecoming. This time, rather than having only a few hours to get used to the idea that Julian had been missing for a month, they've been mourning him for almost a year, angry and confused and left with so many questions. And they've had almost a week of wondering what's become of Worf and Garak, and to tie themselves in circles wondering if J.S.B really could be Julian Subatoi Bashir.

Garak gets them all beamed directly to sickbay, and it's obvious that Julian's overwhelmed enough by that without having hordes of emotional friends come to greet him. So they're allowed in, one at a time. Miles petitions to be first, and wraps Julian up in what would have been the firmest of hugs - apart from Julian's so gaunt, so... fragile, that Miles find he dare not squeeze too hard. Words gush out - ones that he'd never have thought he'd admit out loud - about how much he missed Julian and how glad he is none of what they said was true, and it takes him some time to realise that he's been blabbering on and Julian's not been saying a word.

Julian has been clinging onto him tightly, though, and that... that's got to be enough, for now.

[pettyprocrastination]

as much as I love 141 medieval au's here the reader is a noble lady saved from her marriage or some lone townswomans rescued by the group of knights (looking @ my own nun!reader in this) I do love the notion of a lady knight.

A badass woman with no name or backstory that's taken up the life of a sellsword- who scoffs at the notion of "honor" when spilling blood on your blade- death is death. Honor means nothing for God or king.

Her hair is cut close to her scalp, because it's all too easy for somebody to grab a handful of those soft locks and be at the perfect position to slit her throat in a fight. Covered in scars and carried by aching bones that broke years ago but never quite healed properly.

Maybe Price is a king who sees this helmeted figure fighting at a tourney for his name day and asks for their name- their noble house only to learn you have none. Simply a desire for the money awarded to the winner.

Maybe Gaz is beloved prince who often sneaks out from his guards nose to mingle with the common folk- who enjoys sitting in a tavern with others and singing songs while drinking ale with a pretty little thing on his lap until he's walking back to the palace and finds a blade at his neck in a dark alley as you warn him that noblebloods should never walk unaccompanied- it makes the job far too easy.

Maybe a beautiful noble lady is sent to stay under the eye of a royal family in discussion for marriage- when the house offers to gift her one for their personal guards of the 141, she insists she more than happy with her own- you. The silent armor-clad figure standing close to her side. (yes I miss domentzia. she's my wife and always will be).

[distant--shadow]

dreadborg and her cowboy

[h0oty]

doctors deciding whether to blame their patients symptoms on anxiety, weight, or menstruation this time around

[doctor-ciel]

I’m thinking about how in Blue Period, a part of the story was dedicated to the idea of the naked body and how the main character is ashamed of his, feels disconnected from it, thinks of it as just a pile of putty, how nakedness is extremely vulnerable and terrifying. And they talked about how close everyone is to death. And when he painted a live nude model, he recontexutalized all of these feelings about nakedness into seeing it as something beautiful.

And then later in the story, they introduced a character with him unveiling a fuckoff huge nude self portrait of him draped across a couch. What a effective and efficient way of telling everything you need to know about him as a person before he even says anything. Like, normally a character being introduced like this would be a quick way of saying "this guy's an arrogant asshole," but with the specific themes the story built about nakedness, it says that he's a very transparent and confident guy who knows himself well.

Also, they used the ocean to represent death during that arc, with it taking place in a hotel that overlooked the ocean, and he spends a lot of time there too fishing as a hobby.

Edit: I’ve been informed that that’s not himself he painted. But being this comfortable about nudity still shows more or less the same point. Also, I haven’t finished the manga, so I can’t say whether this ends up being an accurate assessment of his character, just that this was my first impression of him.

[suckinitup]

lil writing I foud in the drafts. TW disassociation and brain fog

Vyncent doesn't feel awake.

He blinks down at the stove, slow, and tries to remember what he was making. Soup, his mind supplies, but that's obviously not right. It's a frying pan in front of him with little cubed pieces of beef. His knife is in one hand, a spatula in the other. There's still muck on his knife. He puts the spatula down in the pan to stir, but his attention is drawn again to his knife. Why hadn't he cleaned it off, yet?

Hands to pocket, finds his cloth, hesitates. Raw meat juice. Can't contaminate anything. That's the important thing in cooking. Not contaminating your surfaces.

Wait. Aren't people raw meat? His cloth is already contaminated, and so is his knife. That's okay then. They're allowed to be gross, the way that cutting boards are allowed to be gross. He'll just have to wash his hands afterwards.

He puts his cloth to the knife and pauses, stares at it. He's just standing there. Everything feels like cotton, like fabric between his finger and an edge.

Careful, that's right, that's what he was trying to remember. Careful along the blade so he doesn't cut, doesn't dull. Just wipes clean.

Knife away. Cloth in pocket. A pan in front of him, sizzling, and a spatula left inside it. He goes to grab the spatula by the handle, remembers the contamination, and withdraws. The sink...?

Behind him. Washing his hands is important. He goes to do that. Nothing is connecting right and he tries to focus on the steps. Water, soap, lather. The sink keeps running. Vyncent stares at the water flow, uncomprehending as his hands run over each other.

"Vyncent?"

Vyncent looks up to see Dakota. "Oh. Hey."

Dakota's eyes sweep over the scene. His eyes narrow a little and he frowns--his thinking face. Vyncent resigns himself to patient waiting, but the expression disappears as quickly as it had arrived. "Bad day?" Dakota asks, voice soft.

"Huh?" 

Vyncent looks down. His hands are still under the running faucet. He doesn't know how long he's been here.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."

It's a little easier with Dakota there, moving around behind him. Like watching the hands of a clock, seeing the time move in front of him. Vyncent turns off the water, starts dying his hands as he listens to the little click of the stove turning off behind him. Oh, that weird smell is like burning. That's probably what drew Dakota in here. "...Is it rude to order pizza?" Dakota asks, almost hesitant. It's weird for Dakota to act delicate, like Vyncent is fragile. That's a mode usually reserved for William. Vyncent isn't sure how to act when its turned on him. Not sure how to feel about it.

"Nah," Vyncent answers, putting extra effort into the casual shrug of his shoulder. Look at him, feeling fine. "Pineapple?" 

"Will's going to kill you," Dakota says easily. "Yeah, pineapple. Hey, how about a movie?"

"Something scary?"

"I'll ask Will to pick," Dakota decides. He presses forwards, effectively herding Vyncent towards the other room. Vyncent feels mildly irritated, and mildly fond. The cotton is thinner, and his thoughts are easier to hold on to. He's awake enough, even, to go to the couch without prompting and have the forethought to adjust the pillows, grab the blankets. He hears Dakota on the phone behind him, already ringing up the pizza place, so he takes it upon himself to pre-choose a few movie selections for William. He doesn't have to. It's probably a little rude. He wants to pick at least a little, like he has to prove that he can. But also. He doesn't want to watch the Bee Movie right now.

It's nice, though, when William comes in and takes a pick from Vyncent's selections. It's nice when they're all bundled onto the couch, Dakota's head in his lap and William a warm line against his side. Solid weight. It's still a bad day. Still hard to focus on the movie, hard to follow the plot. It's a nice bad day, though, and right now that's enough.

[grimmweepers]

you have a +5 steps skin routine

i'm gonna expose myself and say as someone prone to acne and wears makeup almost every day i should rlly be more consistent with taking care of my skin

i have 3-4 steps when i want to be good but these days i've been slapping on moisturiser after washing my face and calling it a night, IF THAT. (yes, ik ik i already get berated by my close friend who's a skin specialist)

tell me your assumptions about me

[kismetmoon]

turned my boy into a marketable plushie

[ID: four photos of a handmade plush of an original stylised Flatland character named Atlas. Atlas is a light grey isosceles triangle with dark grey scars on his side and eye, one eye, black limbs and a black tail.

In the first image he is sat down on a bed with floral bedsheets and white pillows. He is directly facing the camera.

In the second image he is sat on the bed beside a ginger cat who is looking at the camera.

In the third and fourth images he is laid down flat on a green rug. His back is to the rug in the third image and his back is to the camera in the fourth image.

End ID].

[moveslikekeithrichards]

its so hard to talk about how traumatic it is to watch somebody be claimed by dementia without going "well i cant complain because at least i wasnt the one losing my mind (for now)" but that shit fucks you up so much. that ghost is going to haunt me for the rest of my life and all i can do is hope it Stays a ghost

[stevethehairington]

okay but i need ALL of the fics that take place during crozier getting sober. like i feel like there is SO much potential here bc it is THEE biggest turning point for him! esp with regards to fitzjames and their relationship. like fitzjames seeing crozier's choice to sober up as this huge defining moment, one that ultimately and unequivocally earns his respect (back, really, because he DID have respect for crozier at first, before he met him. and now he sees that that respect wasnt misgiven, not really). and like the way this choice is what causes the first crack in james' mask around crozier! ugh it's just DELICIOUS.

[adriartts]

alas, turns out grad school is hard so i haven't been drawing much of anything BUT. now. some side characters for yall

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @jesuisici33 @callaplums @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie 💖💖

made a bit of progress on the sick fic so here it is🤷

prev snippet

___

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor.” Buck muses, wrapping the blanket over Eddie’s shoulders.

“I don’t need- I just closed my eyes for a second. I’m fine.” he grumbles, fumbling with the blanket too long to want to actually throw it off, but he does in the end – he’s cold and refuses to admit it, and he’d rather sit here and pretend he’s fine. He’s impossible.

“Eddie, that cough did not sound fine.” he points out. 

“Buck-” he sneezes, and then wraps the sleeves of his hoodie over his palms. Buck raises his eyebrow, and Eddie pointedly avoids his eyes, as he not-so-discreetly wipes his nose with a sleeve. 

“I bought tissues.” Buck reaches for the bag and digs out a box, then tries to give it to Eddie, who, instead of taking it, just levels him with a stare, as he sniffles loudly, and swipes a sleeve under his nose again. “Seriously? You’re gonna be gross and disgusting just to prove you’re not sick?” That’s a new level of stubborn Buck hasn’t seen from Eddie yet. He can’t believe this is the man his heart decided it wants. And that even while sick and gross and stubborn and ridiculous, a part of Buck is still endeared by him.

“I’m not.” Eddie insists, sounding so congested Buck swears he can feel it in his own sinuses. “Let me just finish my coffee, and then I-” another sneeze. “Have so much to do today.” he finishes, but at least this time he reaches for the tissues, looking anywhere but at Buck, cheeks red.

“Yeah, no, all you’re gonna do today is rest and take some medicine.” Buck says decisively, then takes the bag in his hand, and slowly starts walking to the kitchen. “Get comfortable, and I’ll just put this all away and be right back. I bought meds, tissues, and something to cook you some soup-” he starts listing off, getting louder the further he gets. “Oh, and stopped by the farmer’s market to get honey. Did you know that honey has antioxidant and antibacterial properties?” he asks excitedly, ready to tell Eddie every single thing he found in his quick research. Buck learned a long time ago that with Eddie he doesn’t need to hold back and can rant and ramble all he wants, and Eddie is happy to listen to him.

“Yeah?” Eddie yells back, voice hoarse and strained. Buck can hear the couch shift as Eddie gets comfortable, maybe even finally lays down. He knows Eddie won’t just give in and admit he’s sick, but this is a start. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?” he sounds genuinely interested, though also really tired. 

“I will, just a sec! I’ll make you some tea with lemon and honey, how’s that sound?” he asks, and gets a grunt in response, though he’s not sure if that’s an answer, or if Eddie’s just trying to suppress a cough in an attempt to hide that he’s sick, as if Buck didn’t already know. He chuckles to himself. He really has his work cut out for him today.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gayarthur @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @eowon @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks

[whentherewerebicycles]

I am working from the airbnb today while my mom & sister take the baby out on various beach adventures + ice cream/cheese factory tours. i made them send me pictures and WAHHHH. i love that little baby and i love seeing my family love him. i feel like in the first month or so of his life i spent a lot of time feeling sad about the fact that i didn't have a partner who was equally invested in our baby and was there to witness and share all the little memories with me. i am really enjoying being a solo parent and have no regrets about my choice, but i worried it would feel lonely to love him on my own and not have someone to share that love with. but in the months since i have just been so struck by how much our family structure feels more open to the world instead of closed-off in a traditional nuclear family type of way. obviously both types of families have things to recommend them! like, there are lots of good things about a two-parent household and having a larger extended family where you have two sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, etc. but having a one-parent, one-extended family household also has its own beautiful advantages. he gets to spend so much more time with my parents and my sister especially - both because i want it that way and because i have to rely more on my family for help since there's only one of me. i don't have a partner whose schedule or preferences need to be taken into account, so we can join my mom and sister on a spur-of-the-moment vacation. i also don't have a partner who can be responsible for the baby while i'm doing work on vacation, so my mom and sister got to take him out for a whole day of sightseeing and adventures with just them there. idk i'm not sure i'm articulating this well but i think there's a joyful flexibility and openness to this family structure that i wasn't anticipating and that i think/hope will really enrich his experience of the world. he gets to have all these alloparents who love him and know him well and have real responsibility for him. it's beautiful!

[findafight]

Robin's parents while I do HC them as children of Italian and French immigrants, (multilingual household!!) And therefore that has sway on cooking and food in the house, are also domesticated hippies and I fully believe they probably at least had a vegetarian phase (that maybe didn't last) and they still swear by Laurel's Kitchen. Possibly Thee vegetarian cookbook of the 70s and 80s. Living on the kitchen counter they have the box of old family recipes written and rewritten on cards all sorted and labeled beside a fat brown hardcover recipe book that's got splatters and carrot stains on it. It's been there for ages and it's got pictures and Robin loves it.

When Robin moves out with Steve her parents give her the family recipes newly printed in both her parents hands and a second hand copy of the cookbook that hasn't got nearly the amount of stains the one of her childhood does (but it will) which will also live in every kitchen they have.