#and this one is soooooo good

[the-prophecy]

Mission steal your favourite dress from your mom's closet sucessful

[makkerswheel]

sbi ””monopoly”” game night stays being the funniest stream ever btw

[vampryn]

i love making internet friends. when ur mutuals w somebody for forever and then eventually start chit-chatting and then ur like wow we are friends now officially!!! lets make internet pancakes together and dance!!!!! lets make plans to meet that will never happen bc we live on different ends of the globe!!!!! lets jus be supportive and love the ppl in our community!!!! they are so cool!!!!!

[god-of-this-new-blog]

What if the two worst guys in the whole world were madly in love with each other?

[forgettable-au]

Do you think, at first, people would call Papyrus's name and he wouldn't respond. After all, its his name but it isn't his name, so it would take some getting used to hearing associated with him (even if there's no other alternative he knows about)

Oh YES

That happened a lot at the beginning, JUST after the incident, during the first Papyrus days

I'm planning to expand on that a LOT more on the comic but here is something in the meantime

I forgot to write things on the list, but it's too late now

-

[makiswirl]

jolyne..... but LITTLE

[drarrily-we-row-along]

All My Dreaming, It's Only Given a Name

Inspired by the Hozier song "To Someone in a Warmer Climate"... I'm fucking obsessed with it. I can't stop listening to it. If you haven't heard it, you simply MUST.

Harry woke up slowly, the room was still dark, his body warm and so content he couldn't be bothered by the ways his muscles twinged with the need to shift.

There was a comforting weight around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, anchoring him to the warm presence beneath him. A second hand had slipped under his shirt, hot palm cupping his side.

Godric, he never wanted to move again.

"Hi," murmured softly against his temple, lips brushing over his forehead in a lazy approximation of a kiss.

His heart swelled and burst, pressing against his ribs, pushing his lungs until he couldn't breathe with it; this easy, gentle affection. A love so full, so gentle that it felt like the tide washing over him and pulling him along. Words seemed to great a feat, so he just pressed his nose into Draco's collarbone, hoped it was enough.

"Hello, darling," whispered soft and sweet into Harry's hair as Draco's fingers carded through the curls there, his other hand drawing Harry even closer, lightly squeezing his side. "It's so early, love."

A low whine escaped Harry's throat, his body pressing closer, stretching out against Draco's until their bodies were aligned.

"That's it," he murmured encouragingly, holding Harry like he was something precious. "Come closer," he added, "close as you like."

"I'd like to crawl inside of your skin," Harry mumbled, then realized how odd that must sound.

Draco just chuckled softly, "I do understand that impulse," he said. "It doesn't ever feel like I can get close enough to you either."

He sighed, let the short-lived worry of being misunderstood fall away. "I used to dream about this, you know?"

"Did you?" he asked, voice warm like honey; indulgent, like he wanted to hear whatever Harry wanted to say no matter how ridiculous it might be.

He shook his head, "Not exactly," he said softly, turning to prop his chin on Draco's chest.

The other man shifted a bit so that he could look down at Harry, chin scrunching up in a way that should be unattractive but that Harry found impossibly endearing.

"My dreams are paltry in comparison to the reality of you," he murmured like a confession.

"Poetic," Draco replied, lips tilting up at the corners to soften his words, to tell Harry he was teasing, that he was feeling shy about being praised.

He hummed, "My whole life," he whispered, "There's this," he broke off, searching for the right word, "ache," he said, tapping his fingers against Draco's breastbone. He shook his head, "There's always been this yearning to be loved, to be held, to be cared for without the expectation of what I'll be able to give."

"Darling," Draco whispered, and Harry could hear the ache reflected in his voice. It was like this sometimes, like Draco took whatever was hurting Harry and held it in his own body, reflecting it back at him with an empathy and tenderness that left Harry elated and terrified all at once.

"But then there was you," he continued. "And all of my dreaming, it seems like a shadow compared to the reality of being loved by you. All of my longing, my yearning; the restless pursuit of something I never thought I could actually have-" he broke off, eyes stinging.

Draco's thumb brushed away a tear and lightly traced his cheekbone.

"I found all of the things I'd dreamt of in you," he managed. "And more," he added. "This is the fulfillment of everything I've ever wanted; a simple, cozy love. A shared bed, a shared home. Dinner together and evenings on the sofa, weekends attached at the hip. Someone to hold me gently, to kiss me tenderly. Someone who will let me hold them and love them with my love that's too big and never sufficient all at once."

"Darling," Draco murmured again. "You're not too much and you are enough," he assured. "I don't need anything more."

Harry nodded, snuggled back under Draco's arm, resting his head on his shoulder once more. "You make everything better."

"I love you," Draco breathed in that way of his, wondering and helpless, like the way he loved Harry was something that he found immense pleasure in. Godric, Harry loved it when he said it like that. "I love you so much," he repeated. "You make everything better too, darling."

"I love you too," Harry said softly, the simplest thing he knew. The truest thing he knew.

"Do you want to sleep a little more?" Draco asked through a yawn of his own.

He shrugged a shoulder, "Maybe," he said, "I do want to stay like this, even if I can't sleep any more."

"Alright," he agreed, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a while?"

"Of course not," he said, squeezing Draco's ribs and kissing his collarbone.

Draco hummed, squeezed Harry a little tighter. "You're alright?"

Harry nodded, "Better than," he replied truthfully.

"Kay," Draco whispered, then as though sleeping was as easy for him as breathing, he dropped back off to sleep.

He lay there, listening to his beloved breathe, and couldn't fathom how his life had turned out sweeter than his very best dreams.

--------------------

(Read more of my fics, if you'd like)

[dailyboatboys]

[45] @lem0nrat has a cute vampire etho design

[luminousstardust]

travis being an accurate representation of my stress throughout that ENTIRE episode

[riickgrimes]

Swear on the sword. [Don't let it take.]

[cdmodule]

Stress Reliever

[patrice-bergerons]

Losing my mind a little thinking about what sex, should they choose to have it, would be like for Aziraphale and Crowley given that the physiology of their not exactly human bodies is at least in part dictated by what they believe it to be.

Let me unpack: sure, while on earth their bodies do operate within a human paradigm to some extent. (Hence Aziraphale's fear of getting discorporated should his head be chopped off.) But at the same time, for one, they aren't exactly human -- they don't have to eat or drink or sleep and the laudanum does not kill Crowley.

More importantly though, Crowley can drive thru a literal ring of fire in a burning car and be fine because as God tells us, he has an imagination--he decides it will be okay and so it is.

And sex is so alien a concept to them both and not something you generally observe other people doing. So even if they are crawling up the walls with the need to know one another they would have no clue what it is they are exactly supposed to do to begin with. (I am not even sure it would have occurred to them to add genitalia to their bodies until they start to explore this romance between the two of them.)

They are also both such stubborn bastards. Thus sex would likely be the two of them doing "research", coming to some wildly inaccurate conclusion(s), and then insisting yeah no this is really how it works.

And even if thru much vexation and trial and error they come to something close to human sex and something they enjoy, on the margin, the mechanics of it would be somewhat different than how real humans have sex, because there is no one there to give them notes. And they would both absolutely believe they are doing it right.

(I also really want Crowley to take the "bigger the better" adage to heart and come to Aziraphale with a hard dick he made to be a whole metre long only for an unimpressed Aziraphale to go "and what exactly do you expect me to do with this, my dearest?? should I unhinge my jaw like a snake???")

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Rewatched Princess and the Frog today and honestly it feels more like a celebration of Disney's 100 years than Wish. A classic fairy tale respun in interesting ways while still being undeniably Disney? Check. A traditional story with modern twists and a (narratively) strong female protagonist? Check. A return to 2D animation in a time when the medium was dying out? Check. Hell, it even takes place in the same time period (1920s) that Walt Disney released the first animated feature film and started a hundred years of magic. There are multiple references to older Disney movies, from classics like Pinocchio and Sword in the Stone to (then) recent films like Aladdin and The Little Mermaid. It features the fucking wishing star! In a more narratively sound manner than Disney's actual 100th year celebration!

And even beyond that, Princess and the Frog feels like it pays tribute to the magic of magic - the power of believing in stories, of having a dream, of working hard to reach your happy ending while never losing sight of what's really important. There is so much effort put into this movie and it shows: the animation is gorgeous, the story is creative and structurally sound, and behind the scenes reveals that the producers put their backs into making sure both the African American aspect and the New Orleans cultural aspect were accurately depicted. It was the first Disney movie in over a decade to return to the Broadway musical format, and they literally had to dust off the abandoned 2D art tools because the company hadn't used them since 2004.

Princess and the Frog was a labor of love through and through, a heartfelt tip of the hat to Disney's legacy while still being its own story. I don't know what could be more celebratory of Walt Disney's dream than that.

[blackhholes]

Teen Wolf as Horror Subgenres

Season six B: Cosmic Horror

[worstloki]

there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

[fantastic-nonsense]

What are five of your favourite Grishaverse quotes? Send this ask to 5 of your favourite grishaverse blogs!

Thank you so much for sending this, and sorry it took me such a long time to get to it 😭

Choosing was super hard because there are so many insanely good quotes in the books and I love several of them for very different reasons, but I'll try and give it a go anyways. So: five of my favorite Six of Crows quotes (because I still haven't read the SaB trilogy), in no particular order:

Kaz and Inej, on getting back up after a fall:

Get it together, Brekker, he scolded himself harshly. It didn’t help. He was going to faint again, and this would all be over. Inej had once offered to teach him how to fall. “The trick is not getting knocked down,” he’d told her with a laugh. “No, Kaz,” she’d said, “the trick is in getting back up.” More Suli platitudes, but somehow even the memory of her voice helped. He was better than this. He had to be. Not just for Jordie, but for his crew. He’d brought these people here. He’d brought Inej here. It was his job to bring them out again. The trick is in getting back up. He kept her voice in his head, repeating those words, again and again, as he stripped off his boots, his clothes, and finally his gloves. -Ch. 22, Six of Crows

Matthias asking for mercy for monsters/the "we are all someone's monster" observation:

“Nina,” he said, hand still pressed over the smooth skin on his chest where a bullet wound should be. “Nina, please.” “You know they would not offer you mercy, Matthias.” “I know. I know. But let them live in shame instead.” She hesitated. “Nina, you taught me to be something better. They could be taught, too.” Nina shifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were ferocious, the deep green of forests; the pupils, dark wells. The air around her seemed to shimmer with power, as if she was alight with some secret flame. “They fear you as I once feared you,” he said. “As you once feared me. We are all someone’s monster, Nina.” -Ch. 41, Six of Crows

Wylan and Kaz's entire conversation about disability and vulnerability while cracking Van Eck's safe:

He thumbed quickly through the ledger and said, “When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel?” Wylan looked away. People always did when Kaz talked about his limp, as if he didn’t know what he was or how the world saw him. “They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” Wylan’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “They think they’d better cross the street.” Kaz tossed the ledger back in the safe. “You’re not weak because you can’t read. You’re weak because you’re afraid of people seeing your weakness. You’re letting shame decide who you are. Help me with the painting.” They lifted the portrait back into place over the gaping hole in the safe. Martin Van Eck glared down at them. “Think on it, Wylan,” Kaz said as he straightened the frame. “It’s shame that lines my pockets, shame that keeps the Barrel teeming with fools ready to put on a mask just so they can have what they want with no one the wiser for it. We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.” -Ch. 18, Crooked Kingdom

Inej vs. Dunyasha on the Church of Barter rooftop, refusing to be cowed on her own turf:

“The blood you spill is the blood of kings,” seethed Dunyasha. “You are not fit for such a gift.” Inej almost felt sorry for her. Dunyasha really believed she was the Lantsov heir, and maybe she was. But wasn’t that what every girl dreamed? That she’d wake and find herself a princess? Or blessed with magical powers and a grand destiny? Maybe there were people who lived those lives. Maybe this girl was one of them. But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway. Inej raised a brow and slowly wiped the blood of kings on her trousers. -Ch. 35, Crooked Kingdom

And Inej at the harbor...hopeful, in love, and ready to take on the world with her boy and her ship:

Had she really thought the world didn’t change? She was a fool. The world was made of miracles, unexpected earthquakes, storms that came from nowhere and might reshape a continent. The boy beside her. The future before her. Anything was possible. -Ch. 44, Crooked Kingdom