#But like

[pigeonstab]

i'm laughing for 30 minutes straight because when i was going to say "cross" I said "bross" 😞

did you know 'brosse' in french means brush?

[relia-robot]

My WIFE likes me, my PARTNERS like me, my METAMOURS like me, my INTERNET FRIENDS like me, my IN PERSON FRIENDS like me... what am I supposed to think? That I'm LIKABLE, or something???

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

{one piece ficlet, nami & zoro} nightmare

(got an AU project i’m brewing up that’s got a lot of nami and zoro interactions so i wanted to get some practice in.) Rating: G Notes: takes place between arlong park and alabasta. based off a personal headcanon i have that zoro’s blunt force honesty is actually extremely effective at warding off things like nightmares or panic attacks. ~~~~~

Nami wakes alone in the dark with a scream caught in her throat, and only the gentle rocking of the ocean waves and the soft sound of Vivi’s snores from the other side of her cabin keep it down.

Instead she bolts upright, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Arlong’s laughter echoes inside her head, sharp and cruel as his awful smile. Those teeth have haunted Nami for years, and even now, after the real ones were shattered into a million pieces by Luffy, the ghost of them remains inside her dreams.

It’s no use trying to go back to sleep. Nami glances at the clock by her bedside and grimaces; only 2am. She briefly considers trying to work on some of her charts, but her mind feels foggy, a soup of lingering fear and exhaustion. Too easy to make a mistake, she decides. Besides, Vivi is still asleep, and Nami would hate to wake her.

She slips out of bed and dresses quietly before heading up to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and hopefully a snack; Sanji always makes something for whoever’s on the night watch. Tonight that’s Zoro, and he’s only on the second of three onigiri when she enters the galley. Nami snags it off his plate and shoves it into her mouth before he can stop her. 

“Hey!” he protests, scowling deeply. “That was mine!”

“Tough shit,” Nami shoots back, except it comes out more like ‘uuff ith’ with how stuffed her cheeks are with rice and salmon. Zoro flips her off.

“What are you even doing up?” he grouses. “You’re not on watch tonight.”

Nami shrugs, stepping over to the coffee maker. “Couldn’t sleep,” she says, which is true enough. She doesn’t plan on saying anymore, because Zoro doesn’t need to know, but then as she’s opening a cupboard to grab a bag of grounds he asks—

“Nightmare?”

Nami pauses, surprised. “How…?”

“You’re shaking.”

She blinks, then looks at her hands. The one holding the bag of grounds is trembling, ever so slightly; the one against the counter isn’t, but only because it’s gripping the formica white-knuckle tight. When Nami breathes, she hears a wobble in her lungs on the exhale.

“… Yeah,” she says after a moment, pulling the bag of coffee grounds to her chest like a shield. As if brown paper and bitter beans could save her from anything besides a caffeine headache.

Zoro doesn’t ask, and yet as the moments tick by while they exist in awkward silence, Nami feels more and more compelled to say something, until finally she blurts out, “Sometimes I dream that Arlong’s come to take me away again.”

She’s not looking at Zoro, but she can picture the confused tilt of his head perfectly in her mind’s eye as he says, “Huh?”

Nami swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. “Arlong,” she repeats quietly, measuring scoops of coffee into the basket. “Sometimes I dream that he… That he’s followed me, all the way from the East Blue. And he takes me away and drags me back to Arlong Park and there’s… There’s nothing I can do but scream.”

There’s a prickle underneath her eyes now, a quiver in her bottom lip. Nami bites it as she presses the brew button on the coffee machine, willing herself not to cry. It’s not like Zoro hasn’t seen it before, but she doesn’t particularly relish the idea of it happening now; comfort is like a foreign concept to the swordsman, and she’s pretty sure he would only make her feel worse.

“That’s stupid.”

Case in point.

Nami grits her teeth, hands balling into fists at her sides. She doesn’t know why she bothered—of course Zoro doesn’t get it, muscle-headed brute that he is. She opens her mouth to yell as much, to scream that not all of them have so little brain in their heads that they can’t bother to process things like worry and fear—

“If Arlong comes back, we’ll just kick his ass. Same as last time.”

Nami pauses. Processes. Blinks.

“Huh?” she says, turning to look at him. Zoro has the audacity to roll his eyes, like she’s somehow the dumb one here. 

“We beat that stupid shark to a pulp, remember? And that was with me half dead and down two swords. Now I’m all healed up, I’ve got Kitetsu and Yubashiri—“ He pats two of the swords at his side with the same tenderness one might show a beloved pet “—and all of us are already stronger than we were back then. Plus we’ve got a doctor now. Which means we can really go all out ‘cause there’s someone around to patch us up.”

He grins, wide and feral, and now it’s Nami’s turn to roll her eyes. She opens her mouth to lament poor Chopper’s plight, but before she can, Zoro’s expression turns serious. 

“Besides, even if all of that wasn’t true, you don’t really think we’d let Arlong take you away from us again, do you?”

Nami blinks again. 

The lump returns to her throat as she thinks about four men—boys, really—that she unquestionably betrayed. Boys that stood up and fought for her freedom anyway. Sanji, who barely even knew her back then, save that she was a girl who needed help. Usopp, self-proclaimed coward, taking on a fishman that veteran Marines wouldn’t have fought, all by himself. Zoro, barely back from death’s door, wounds still open and bleeding as he dared to try and fight Arlong himself. Luffy, punching through the wreckage of her former prison, his straw hat still warm where it sat on her head.

She laughs suddenly, watery and weak but bright as a sun-ripened mikan. 

Zoro’s right, she realizes. It is stupid. As if Arlong could ever hope to fight his way through the rest of the crew to get at Nami.

As if Nami herself would ever let him drag her back to her own personal hell, now that she has friends worth fighting for.

“No,” she says sheepishly. “I guess I don’t.”

“Then what are you worried about?” Zoro asks, and Nami just shakes her head with a soft sigh.

“Do you want this coffee? I think I’m gonna try and go back to sleep after all.”

Zoro grunts, which Nami takes as a yes. She pours Zoro a cup, setting it down next to his empty plate. “Thanks,” she says, and Zoro raises an eyebrow.

“For what?” he asks, and Nami realizes it’s a genuine question when he tilts his head, one eyebrow raised. It makes her want to laugh. That’s Zoro, she thinks. Profound. Stupid. Profoundly stupid.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

[venusflitrap]

guys guys guys

she ra has 5 seasons, like 50 episodes, and it’s only 20 hours long. you can do that in one sitting if you actually like try/plan. if someone really wants to binge 20 episodes then they will binge 20 episodes.

[witchyamethyst]

No but Ajax’s last moments are actually so heartbreaking. Like you can hear her despiration as she says "I'm sick of runnin'/When I've done nothing wrong," and it’s SO impactful after hearing her talk about her past. “I'm a problem child/Hyperactive, always runnin' wild,” reads to me very much as a woman with adhd or a similar nerodivergency who, being underprivledged and poc in the 70s (?) would have just been written off as a ‘bad kid’. In this moment you can really hear how tired she is, the warriors have probably been the only place where she felt true belonging - and even then there’s a sense of frustration when Swan says Ajax’s is best at “Starting a fight�� which is heartbreaking.

Idk man it just fucks me up.

[goatgoesmbe]

Being the pretty arm candy to Horangi whenever he went to a casino.

Except, nobody expected that you were actually the brain in the game, whispering discreetly in his ear, and if anyone was looking they just thought you were flirting.

They didn't know Horangi was just playing the way you told him to.

And that's how he surprised his old playmate with constant win.

[moonyswarmsweaters]

I always feel like such an attention whore posting my art

like tell me its pretty, show me you love it, please please please, I needdd ittttt

fuck

Pathetic

[foggypapercrown]

@chipped-bowl-of-soup what have you done? It's all I see now!

SPN Gag reel - Dean opens Sam's beer

[0nlyhere4phil]

im going a bit mad i need some phyaoi now

[cakemadeofbacon]

Wait people think gerry isn’t goth because the characters didn’t mention his shitty dye job ?are you all stupid

[flickeringquip]

(1) You've always been a little wary of the Magnate.

(pt. 1 | feat. @thedolmainblog's Aiden — I promise this will go somewhere more exciting in the next part askfhbaf)

From the moment you'd been close enough to actually watch them interact with others, something had pinged in your hind-brain, warning you away.

Then, it had been easy to listen to. Your work for Landry didn't really necessitate you interacting with them much at all, beyond a nod or two in passing. You weren't much for meetings — for all that you played a large part in intel-gathering, you left the more administrative work to your other co-workers.

You could do it in a pinch, but why would you with more capable hands there and at the ready?

(1) Now, however. . .

Things are more complicated, now that you're dating Blythe. The good kind of complicated, obviously, but definitely an adjustment.

Like right now, for example.

You'd mentioned off-hand watching a movie that it'd be fun to bring him lunch some time, and the way his entire countenance had brightened had had you silently committing to the idea even as he assured you that you didn't have to bother.

For all that he's your boyfriend, you don't always understand Blythe — for someone so willing to re-arrange his entire living room overnight because of a furniture piece you'd admired in passing, he struggled to fathom you might wanna do nice things for him too.

(1) Mostly, this just made you want to do more nice things for him. Like you could somehow out-spoil his attempts to spoil you.

And so you find yourself in the lobby of the town's biggest office building, lunch*-turned-care-package in hand and trying not to feel wildly out of place in your jeans and long-sleeved crop-top.

(*Bought, and not made, because you'd tried that once and discovered hours later that you'd given Blythe what was definitely food poisoning, despite how he tried to convince you otherwise. You would just lie if he asked.)

It takes a little bit before you can grab the receptionist's attention because you'd inadvertently seemed to come at a bit of a rush, sequestering yourself off to the side more out of habit than necessity — people seemed to very, very rarely bump into you these days, but old habits and all that.

(1) You do end up coming up a bit short when they ask you what your business is.

You'd been pretty sure Blythe had mentioned being around the office today, but it dawns on you only then that maybe you should've texted him before you came for some sort of confirmation — but it's not much of surprise if he knows you're coming, now is it?

But you also don't think he has an office to speak of, for the same reason you've never needed one at the Bar.

(1) So you. . . Improvise?

"Can you tell me which floor I can find Aiden's office?" You lift the paper bag in your hand by way of explanation, "I brought lunch."

The man's face twists like he's bitten into a lemon as he stares between you and the bag like either of you could explode at any moment.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Oh, no, but I'm not here to—"

"The CEO is a very business individual; you need an appointment, even for. . . social calls."

Rude. No need to say it like that.

"I mean, yeah, of course they are? But if you'd just listen, I'm actually here to see B—"

(1) A sharp ding from the receptionist's computer steals both of your attention, and you watch the man's face contort even further in confusion as he steals yet more glances between you and your carefully-selected lunch.

"You. . . can go ahead," You think you should maybe be a little offended by their blatant shock at this turn of events, but mostly you're still a little baffled, "Top floor, just go straight— and behave yourself!"

Did jeans really make you look like some kind of ruffian, or have your years of criminal work started to affect your countenance?

You continue mulling over that thought all the way up, a little fascinated that you're not stopped even once along the way despite how many floors you pass.

You arrive, greeted by a set of double doors at the end of a short hallway — and spectacular views to either side of you, glass replacing much of the walls for a bird's eye view of most of the city. You admire the sights for only a moment before turning to the doors, hovering for a moment as you're once again reminded that you don't actually know if Blythe is even in the building at the moment.

(1) You. . knock?

You rap your knuckles against the solid wood, and wait just long enough to start second guessing yourself before you hear an electronic lock open, and take that as your cue to open the door.

The first thing you notice is that the space is immaculate — straight out of some rookie secretary's dream office, or at least what you imagine someone's dream office to look like.

The next is Aiden — obviously, this was their office (building) — smiling at you from their desk as they give a little wave of their fingers.

And, last but certainly not least— No Blythe.

(1) . . .Well, shit.

"Aster, what a pleasant surprise."

Tension snakes up your spine before you shove it back down, determined to at least seem at ease with your boyfriend's boss as you turn your attention to them. It's strange to hear them say your name, though you suppose it's not that weird for them to know it, between your connection to Blythe and length of time you've been working for Landry.

"Hi Aiden," You cringe a little at your own informality, but give them a tentative half-smile and lift the paper bag in your hand, their gaze brightening in understanding, "Is Blythe around?"

"He was, but I just sent him on a bit of errand — I'm afraid he won't be back for a couple of hours."

You nod but don't ask any questions — you're still pretty twitchy about potential conflicts of interest. It's about the only thing in your relationship that still gives you anxiety, not that you've breathed a word of it to Blythe. With all that he does for you already, you really don't want to put anything more on his plate.

You don't know what you'd do if Landry asked you to steal Intel from Aiden, but so far you're really just banking on your boss not deciding to give you what is basically a suicide mission any time soon.

(1) You give a hum in response, lips twisting as you glance down at the bag. You'd sooner surprise him with dinner and do lunch another day than give him old leftovers, but you're not really hungry yourself—

You glance back up at Aiden, who is still watching you with the same genial smile they've always given you, halo glittering above their head. Something about them still unnerves you, but the feeling weakens the longer you study them.

. . . The worst thing they could say is no, right?

"Are you hungry?" You venture closer to the desk, still feeling a little skittish but committed to offering, "No sense letting it go to waste."

For a half-second, you think maybe you've surprised them — and then they're smiling again, expression a little bit warmer, halo a little brighter.

"I suppose I could squeeze in a break," They stand, and for once you find the usual alarm bells silent as they feature to a small seating area near the windows, "—If you'll join me for tea in exchange?"

And, well.

Maybe you'd put a little too much stock into what was just an assumption? Wouldn't it be nice if you got along with Blythe's boss? Maybe it'd even help with some of your lingering anxiety?

Maybe you were just being paranoid?

(1) And thus began the beginning of the end your friendship(?) with Aiden.

[jamesfitzgeraldthethird]

I just want to say that for years and years I had email notifications for fda and usda recalls turned on

And for years and years it was almost always just product recalls (often toys and furniture), undeclared allergens, and very rarely some sort of E. coli situation. I think the past year I have seen more E. coli, salmonella, etc recalls than I did in the entire 6 or so years I had those notifications on.

Anyone with a milk allergy needs to be on high alert. In the midst of a flurry of ongoing food recalls, the FDA has updated its initial recall of a handful of Cal Yee Farms' chocolate products to the highest risk level. Originally, the FDA announced a recall of numerous Cal Yee Farm products because they may have contained undeclared milk, soy, wheat, sesame, FD&C #6, and/or almonds. The recall has now been elevated by the FDA to the most serious level of recall, Class 1, for only a few of the affected products: the company's dark chocolate almonds, dark chocolate apricots, and dark chocolate walnuts because the chocolates contained undeclared milk.

[unionize-lumon-industries]

literally the first thing we see is Helly R being born on that table.

in the original script for the pilot, it was Mark S being born and he was squeezed out of a sphincter in the ceiling onto the table

Devon’s pregnancy

Cobelvig’s lactation fraud (but also she does seem to be genuinely knowledgeable and possibly has experience as a wet nurse)

Mark Scout dates a doula

Mark and Gemma tried to have children but couldn’t conceive

Natalie on the news, giving a contentious interview that includes a brief mention of someone’s innie becoming pregnant while at work

Devon meets Gabby Arteta at the birthing center and later suspects (and it’s confirmed for the audience) that Gabby is severed to avoid the pain of childbirth

baby goats

Gwendoline Christie talked in the podcast about how she prepared for the role by spending time on her friend’s sheep farm and came to understand that Mammalian Nurturables was all about a nonstop cycle of birth and death

Dylan G finds out he has kids and it fundamentally changes his core values

Mark running from the babies in the season 2 intro

baby Kier

a child is introduced to the severed floor in season 2

Dieter Eagan “spilt his lineage upon the soil”

[saltedcaramelchaos]

i get so annoyed at myself when i go to read a fic and can't bc of little grammar things, likeee-

girl wdym the sentences don't flow well, they should be fine even if the subject/predicate order is weird, not everyone has a knack for that. the author's trying so hard, they've got a nice amount of new lines and everything! sure they could stand to use more varied punctuation but that's not the point of writing fic!!!! I JUST WANNA READDD WHY IS MY BRAIN STOPPING MEEEEE

[dranktwocoffees]

that one 12 yr old in your neighbourhood thats way cooler than you

im not immune to beanie aang propaganda