#ungratefuldead

[compassionhero]

@ungratefuldead asked:     ❛ Try me tomorrow. Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow. ❜

     the luke she met a few years before would have tilted his head at her, perplexed. tomorrow? huh? this luke is a little older. whether he’s any wiser is not for him to say, but no longer does he blurt out the first thing that pops into his head. 

     he shoots a sideways glance at artoo, who swivels and whistles back at him. 

     no, of course it isn’t how he expected this to go, artoo.

     that was probably his first mistake, having expectations. the idea of teaching new jedi is a daydream he dusts off, when rebuilding the galaxy seems a task too big for his hands alone and he needs to imagine things settling down. someday there will be more hands. someday he will have learned enough to teach.

     until he looks back levelly into audrey’s eyes, and someday isn’t someday anymore. someday isn’t tomorrow. she’s standing right in front of him. 

     “maybe i don’t need you to tell me.”   he leans forward. there isn’t a shade of mockery in his voice.   “the force is strong in you, audrey. i felt it. i know you must have felt it, too.”

[wthwolvesar]

@ungratefuldead​ liked ( x ). 

          “  i can go back.  and talk to him when he’s alive.  “  he can’t see ghosts,  but he can see the past,  and sometimes that was enough to stop someone.  “  what do you want me to do?  “  

[writedisaster]

@ungratefuldead gets a Benita!

        They don’t often put instruments in the window.  It’s the UV radiation.  It can damage them over time: weaken the strings, warp the wood, crack the bones.  But just for a morning, sometimes, she’ll let one of them rest in the sunlight.  This morning, it’s a viola, freshly fitted with pegs from the fingerbones of Mrs. Everly Averett, who is survived by four children, six grandchildren, and a poodle.

        In the early morning light, the wood glows amber against the dark velvet of the case, and Benita swears she can hear the bones sigh as the warmth soaks through them.  That’s enough to bring a smile to her face as she putters about her pre-opening routine, checking stock and dusting shelves.  When she comes back to the front to switch the sign to open, there’s someone standing on the other side of the glass.  She can’t make out exactly what they’re looking at, but she’d bet it’s Mrs. Averett’s viola.  Even Benita can tell she’s beautiful in the sunlight, and besides, there’s not a lot else to see.

        Benita opens the door and smiles at whoever’s on the sidewalk.  “Do you play?”

[bookburnt]

@ungratefuldead​ says:

(this is an hour late because i was in a zoom meeting) but!!! swid i love ur gerry... i feel like in canon we so often just see fragments of him through other people's eyes, but i love that you capture, like, his Weird But Kind energy, and critically low sense of self-worth, and mixed feelings about his life path and the ppl around him... i love reading ur headcanon posts because it's clear you have put so much thought into them!! audrey would punch a fear entity for gerry and so would i :/

[ feedback time  |  desperately accepting! ]

        aaa thank you so much!  i love making my headcanon posts and i really appreciate hearing that you enjoy them.  also, i hope you know that gerry would also punch a fear entity for audrey (and for u)

[medisinals]

@ungratefuldead​ says: 

“ you’re half a visionary, you’re half a charlatan, and you’re three parts what the fuck. ”

[ w/ifs starters!  |  accepting ]

        “If I may ask, which half of me is charlatan?”  He’s not going to address her other comments on his composition, but - it would take a keen eye indeed to spot anything of the showman in Dr. Blackwell’s nature.  Oh, he can be charming when the situation calls for it, the belle of every charity gala, and perhaps there’s a hint of flair in his silver-topped cane or his well-polished rings.  Still, he’s so soft-spoken, so subtle, so understated as to be outright uninteresting in his colorless suits and his colorless accent.  It’s not many people who realize that these things are a performance all their own.

[medisinals]

@ungratefuldead​ said:

“ i was an angry kid. ”

        “I can understand that.”  He means it, he does.  Childhood is a vulnerability, a wound that holds infection long after it closes.  There is nothing unreasonable about being an angry child.  And yet for all his understanding of anger, there’s something soft in the doctor’s tired eyes as he looks up at Audrey.

        “But there’s something to be said for making it this far, isn’t there?”

[baseyra]

@ungratefuldead​ said: “that sounds like a nightmare.”

“well, it’s just a nine to five. but i see your point,” Basira allows herself to smile a little  bit. “But enough about me. What brings you to the UK?”

Audrey had only called her just that day to ask if she could stop by Basira’s work, which is always a bit of a risk since Basira doesn’t exactly want Elias knowing about her social life (not that it makes a difference, he has enough to blackmail her with already). Still, she doesn’t like exposing a weakness. “Do you want to get out of here?” she asks, trying to sound casual. “I can take a long lunch.”