#my scribblings

[lilacfeatherss]

gadget!!!!!

[girlwithcurlss]

We text in silence more than words,

A period hanging,

A breath caught in the glow of the screen.

You send a single “Hey,”

And I know: "You’re drowning again."

No coffee dates.

No hands brushing as we walk.

But I’ve memorized the rhythm of your typing,

The way you pause before saying you’re hurting,

Like pain is a secret too heavy to speak.

I’ve seen your panic in pixels,

A voice note trembling,

A photo of your window at 3 a.m.,

The sky still dark,

Like your head won’t let you rest.

And I sit here, miles away,

Fighting the urge to scream,

"Just let me hold you."

But all I have is this:

A reply that says,

"I’m here."

Not “It’ll be okay.”

Just: "I’m here."

Like an anchor.

Like a pulse.

Your “I’m okay” is a lie.

So’s mine.

You don’t need me to fix it.

You just need me to "witness" it.

And so I do_

Through screens, through time zones,

Through the ache of absence.

We don’t share a table,

But we’ve split the weight of survival.

And when my own world cracks,

You’re there,

Not in flesh, but in fire,

Texting back before I finish sending:

"I’m not leaving."

This is our intimacy:

Raw.

Unfiltered.

Built in the quiet between messages,

In the courage it takes to say,

"I’m not okay,"

And knowing...

"You won’t disappear."

[mickittotheman]

[x]

"Jesus fucking-- how long have I had this shit all over my face?"

"Since about five minutes after we met."

"You are so fucking dead, Gallagher."

[redgearsmovin]

Let's go!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💥

Redraw of this:

[the-guilty-monographer]

More Granada doodles, this time from the Copper Beeches (still tracing to get the outlines, and they still end up looking rather silly half the time, but hey, I am improving!)

I love it when they stand so close their shoulders are touching <3

Also shoutout to Violet Hunter, you're amazing and we love you

Bonus extra scribbly doodles below the cut:

[variegatedvoid]

Ash suggested this outfit on BSky and I had to

[spacey-daydreams]

Something something they somehow recover and clean Simon's sweater and Grace falls asleep with it

[lorcaswhisky]

Author chose not to use warnings | Mature | Rayner/Charles Vance there was only one sleeping bag | war crimes | references to past torture | violence | trauma | shame | pre-canon | dubious survival tactics | lost in translation | problematic bi representation | nobody’s hands are clean (in either the moral or the hygienic sense) In the dying months of the Kellerun uprising, the Federation finally dispatches aid. Cut off from their convoy, stranded and alone, a junior Starfleet officer and a Kellerun militia soldier face a war of their own.

Well, that sure was four months. Chapter thirteen! In which everyone handles recent events in a mature and well-adjusted fashion.

Read on ao3

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