HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOSÉ PEDRO BALMACEDA PASCAL!

does anyone know if we have fun tomorrow?

May I request more Roach and Gaz?

They are besties on Snapchat

me, posting stuff for over 7 different fandoms at random all on the same blog:

the fact that the usa can provide billions of dollars for israel and their military yet can’t give americans free healthcare is genuinely so fucking insane

Ladies and gentlemen

Jake Lockley

found this 😌

Thanks for the answer btw! I'll suggest hand-holding #8 for Harry Warden because I am soft for the miner

Hi there!!! I’m sorry this took so long, it’s been hard to feel motivated recently but I’m excited to have done this just in time for Valentine’s Day yEEE! I really hope you like it, I stayed more fluffy and comfort with this fic, thank you so much for being patient and sending such a great prompt <3 <3 <3

Prompt was: squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement

There for You

Warnings: Gender Neutral Reader, brief mentions of wine, and lots of fluff <3

It wasn’t surprising when you hadn’t seen Harry this past week, knowing what holiday was on the horizon. You knew the legends that swirled around town; in fact, you had known about them for most of your life. As soon as children were old enough to start hearing the rumors from their older siblings, whispers of ghost stories swirling around Harry Warden, the Cannibal Miner that lived in your town of Valentine Bluffs began to circulate. The reason no one held the traditional Valentine’s Dance in your town was that he had cut and stuffed people’s hearts into heart-shaped boxes and threatened vengeance on anyone that celebrated the dance that caused his being trapped in the mines in the first place. It would make anyone loathe the holiday, that’s for certain.

But you had never believed that somehow Harry Warden was still living on, haunting the mines and fueled by his loathing for the holiday and how his townspeople abandoned him and his fellow miners in his time of need. You only came to know he still existed on a solitary excursion to the mines out of curiosity, wanting to see exactly where the tragedy struck. It was only after you became lost in the catacomb-like labyrinthine tunnels that Harry had appeared to you. 

You never understood why he let you free that day, perhaps he was reprieved from his rage at that moment when he saw how fearful you were, your almost last words being an apology for how people had treated him all these years. The pickaxe had been so close to bashing your skull in. You tried not to think too often about how near your demise was at that moment. 

But he let you go. And you came back. You offered food and other things to occupy his time. You weren’t sure if he was still human or simply a phantom tied to this Earth due to unfinished business. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel your heartstrings pull for him. It must be a sad and lonely existence, stewing over the disrespect given to his memory day in and day out. Perhaps that’s what drew you to him. You felt like an outsider as well, and you understood at least a modicum of the sadness he must feel. 

You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been gripping your basket as you traversed the winding tunnels as your hands started to numb. With a sigh, you tried to loosen your hold and felt the tingling sensation of circulation flowing back into your fingers. It’s not like you hadn’t visited Harry before, but something about today brought fear. What if he decided he wanted to be rid of you, blinded by his rage at the anniversary of his entrapment in these mines, and kill you for even bothering him? 

With these thoughts swirling in your mind, it came as a shock when you finally came upon him. Harry Warden was stock still, in full miner gear as was typical for him, standing in the middle of a corridor. Even when you managed a squeaky greeting, somewhat shaken by his sudden appearance, he didn’t respond. Not that he ever gave you much response, but at the very least he would move around. Instead, he was there, unwavering. 

You approached him with apprehension, slightly terrified of being too bold in your movements in case you shocked him into action. Very few times had you dared to touch Harry but in a moment of genuine worry, you placed your hand upon his upper arm in a comforting gesture. You hadn’t realized how bold the move was until you felt his body tense underneath your hand. But you didn’t pull away, you gently rubbed his arm and he seemed to relax if only for a little bit. 

“I brought you some things,” you said, lifting the basket up to emphasize it. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you from behind the tinted eyes of his mining gear, but you continued on anyways. 

Pulling back the covering, you showed him the contents of the basket. “I know this time of the year is hard for you, I just wanted to get you some nice things. I made chicken and potatoes, got you a bottle of wine, some candies,” you rattled off, eventually plucking the flower bouquet from the top. “I got you these too, I’m not sure if you’d like them.” You went against traditional roses, fearing that might upset him, and instead had brought fresh-cut wildflowers that were a lovely array of colors. “I figured they might brighten up the place…” 

You trailed off when you heard Harry’s voice. Not very often did Harry make noise, in fact, you can’t remember exactly how long it had been since he had made any sort of sound. But this was a soft, shuddering breath. Was he overwhelmed? Did he like the flowers? You weren’t sure. 

You smiled softly, setting the basket and flowers on the ground at his feet. Slowly, you reached your hand out and wrapped your fingers around his. The shaky breathing returned, and you gently squeezed his hand in yours. Your breath caught in your throat as he gave you a firm squeeze back. It was hard to swallow the lump in your throat back as the two of you stood there, embracing each other’s hands in a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you both. 

“You’re welcome Harry,” you said, sniffling a bit as you cherished this moment of pure human connection with Harry. You resolved in your mind to stay down in the mines for as long as Harry wanted you tonight.

He did not object.

everyone hates orange until they actually see her in context. "oh it's such an ugly color, too bright!" look at sunsets and autumn, look at campfires and deserts. she's the most beautiful and special part of the scene. now apologize.