white napkins

the best thing about the “no fear one fear” comic is that it was drawn on a white paper napkin, which invokes this spectacular image of an artist at a steak and shake at 2 am, hunched over the bar, feverishly drawing this comic after a bout of (divine, most likely) inspirtation

anonymous asked:

What happens if Reader was sick and the Mukami brother has to take of her?

  • Word Count: 1536
  • Characters: Mukami brothers & reader
  • Theme: SFW

Nose dotted red, cheeks flushed at the boiled blood as your fingers trembled to hold onto the edges of the white napkins crumpled away in between your hold, a sudden twitch of your brows had been made. The side of your nose tugged upwards as a whimper left your lips, everything held in your hands dropped onto the white duvet as your hands clasped around your mouth. “Achoo!” The sudden sneeze bounced around the room, before one of your hands dangled outwards to the box of tissue left towards one side.
                It had not been much of a surprise.
        –After all, the climate slowly changed, twisted and suddenly flipped a hundred-eighty degrees from the one that gathered around you. Even though the care had been good, and the cold breeze surged through the mansion as the windows left gaping open and the curtains flew at the sudden thundered storm that always had been around the rural area, it did not mean the sudden change in weather didn’t cause sneezes and sniffs to come from your nose and lips. Unlike most days, where warmth wrapped around everyone in the mansion as the vampires awaited for the rain to befallen towards the crops that laid outside, they had now watched it fall as they waited for the air to clear.
        It was good for the crops, however not good for the temperature rested inside your body or the others that laid around wishing for a warmth that didn’t come. Despite your body burned against what was around you, the coughs did not amuse them nor did it quench their desires that laid in their throats. Everything would tumble in disaster if it had not been for the vampires taken shifts to take care of you.

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“LOOK AT IT! IT’S RUBBING RIGHT OFF!”

Customer walks up to my register holding a white napkin. She abruptly starts in, “Hi. I bought these jeans here a few months ago, and look!” She begins vigorously rubbing the napkin on the dark wash jeans she’s wearing, lifts the napkin and shows me that some of the dye has worn off onto the napkin. “IT’S BLUE!”

“Yes, I see that.”

“The dye is rubbing right off!”

“It does appear to be doing so.”

“I’ve washed these jeans several times since I bought them and they’re STILL rubbing color off onto things!”

“That particular brand did come with labels warning that the dye is very highly pigmented (as they are a high quality name brand) and that the dye may continue to transfer with initial washes.”

“This pair didn’t have that tag when I bought them.”

“Are you looking to return the jeans?”

“I ruined my friend’s white couch because I wore these jeans when I went to her house! I was SO embarrassed! I was mortified!”

“Ma’am, are you looking to return the jeans? Do you want a new pair? Do you want a credit?”

“I washed them several times since I bought them and they’re still rubbing color off on everything! My LEGS are blue every time I take them off! I would have expected this from cheap Target jeans but not from here. Not for how much I paid for these jeans.”

“Ma’am, what do you want me to do about this?”

Originally posted by momobae

…apparently nothing. Apparently she just wanted to complain about how the jeans were still turning everything blue… complain in front of eight other customers who were waiting in line to ring up their purchases.

We are three girls sitting at the bar counter,
the green fluorescent light, the slow, soft base
from the creaky speakers in the back,
and we are ponytails and fruit drinks
and sweet salt on our lips.
 
We are pinky promises and red lipstick
on white napkins; stomachs nervous
with tomorrow.
Here is the spring
we drink all our hope from;
laced fingers, harmonica lungs,
finding the friends
you know better
than to fear leaving.
 
We are three girls,
walking the world,
but never inching
too far from each other.
—  Schuyler Peck, Incense and Open Windows
Journal Entry #7: Mom

My mom is the gentle whisper of a friend when you stay up late trading stories in the dark and you can’t see a thing but you know you’re not alone; the sight of crisp white curtains draped before a bright blue sky; the feeling you get when you stand amongst a thousand people with a common purpose; the smell of early morning and fresh dew on the grass.

She’s the pull of a warm hug that could hold you all day if you wanted; the comfort you feel when someone just says “shh” and smooths your hair; the sound of mischievous laughter when you’re playing hide-and-go-seek. The feeling when you’re speaking to a group of people and the words fly off your lips in just the right way; the rush of excitement you experience when someone finally gives voice to your thoughts; the wistful smile you get when you think of old memories that you can never return to.

Warm bread and white napkins; the kind of footprints where you can tell the person was running; a symphony that wraps you up in its sound and makes you close your eyes. The sight of the moon and the stars at night; the still sort of quiet where you can hear your own heartbeat; the texture of soft velvet; the tallest building on Coruscant.

Trying to learn something but having to practice a hundred times first; the sense of accomplishment that follows thereafter; the feeling of pride when people celebrate with you.

The thrill of a street parade; the awe of a thundering waterfall; the feeling of stronger hands holding your own and telling you you’ll be all right.

places i’ve fallen asleep:

1. crowded restaurants. tangled hair on the tablecloth. white napkin pillows. forks and knives. warm oven air. strangers’ conversations. far away laughter. a noisy echo murmur. 

2. my mother’s old room. preserved 1980s adolescence. nancy drew hardbacks and china dolls. white lace and wrought iron. creaking silence. ghost whispers in the dark. 

3. on the ferry. small and hiding in our corner booth. smell of windex and salt and flat coca cola. gray sky, green water. eyes heavy. rocking semi-seasick toward the shore.

7

Paper Napkin Easter Eggs, Part 3
(Parts 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6)

Step 2: Figure out how you’re going to decorate your Easter eggs! We decided to do something different from the traditional dyes: We are using paper napkins instead!

I am in charge of choosing which napkins to use. Elegant white, rustic brown, or colorful patterns? So many choices!