#I’m in a shipping mood

[fierykitten2]

Eh, who cares how many people I ship my blorbos with *ships Falcon with Robert, Samus, Snake, Mr. Zero, Ganondorf, BS, Ryu (the one from Smash, should’ve made that clearer), Terry Bogard and the Mach Rider for some reason*

I know no one cares who I ship them with but I felt like making this post I’ll regret in half a year

[fuumiku]

Alexa play Washing Machine Heart… Been having that Succession quote on the mind

[astralzeraphias]

is it really a crush if u don’t have their merch ???

bonus below cut

its mutual ^-^

[babsvibes]

Just about everyone else: No, Louise. We shouldn't break a couch, steal a bounce house, plant a glitter bomb, break a mirror, etc. etc.

Logan: Why didn't we lock five adults, including our moms, in a closet and go play laser tag while they’re held captive sooner?

[twicearoundthebend]

is this anything ?

[seagreenstardust]

Anyone still calling late game Katsuki an abuser in 2024 is just not paying attention. Full stop.

[ghost-bxrd]

… very tempted to write a part for the Court Family Au cuz I’m itching to write the crack ship that is Cobb and Bruce 🤣🤣🤣

[eviesqueezie]

curly pushes his forehead against the frosted window, feeling the cool of the glass radiate throughout his body with content sigh.

for once, he’d bought a ticket.

he couldn’t risk being stopped or kicked off, there were too many stakes at hand to miss this goddamn train.

speaking of such, the engine begin to roar to life and they took off not a moment or two later. proudly, he held out his ticket stub to the man walking around checking, grinning to himself in a way which must have seemed mad to ongoers watching the exchange.

he leans back into his chair, facing back towards the window to watch the snowy trees pass by at a rapid speed. that was, until, the middle aged woman next to him tapped his shoulder.

he furrowed his brows and glanced at her, glare dissipating when he realised who she was.

“oh, hey mrs matthews.” he smiled slightly, making his way to face back to the window before she spoke.

“where are ya goin’? thought you weren’t gon’ get out in time-“

“course i was gonna. got people to see, don’t i?”

she raises an eyebrow and holds her hands trying, in vain, to calm him down.

“excited to be back? tulsa ain’t too pretty but it outta be better than wherever you were.”

curly shrugs, running his tongue over his incisor. “anythin’ is better than that place. well- maybe not the cooler but-“

mrs matthews interrupts him, holding out a flask.

curly raises an eyebrow and she laughs to herself.

“hot chocolate, wanted to surprise lydia but you see, i called two- keith earlier and he said he nearly made enough for the rest of the holidays. bless him.”

“you sure you should be lettin’ two-bit anywhere near a kitchen?”

mrs matthews cuffs the back of his head but grins nevertheless.

they talk for the rest of the short trip, exiting at the same time when they finally make it back into tulsa.

curly hands the half-drank flask back, grinning.

“thanks for the company, curly. merry christmas.”

curly nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, regaining his usual slump and stalking into the snow.

he wraps his jacket a little tighter around his shivering frame, shaking the snow off his boots even though it comes right back after every step.

when he makes it back into his neighbourhood he breaks into a run, finally out of the snowy pathways and onto the street where it was less covered yet still falling from the cloudy sky.

he spots the curtis house from a while away, grinning wildly to himself as he runs faster.

he pushes the screen door open, letting it slam against the wall. he had bigger things to worry about.

the house was practically empty with just ponyboy, wearing a santas hat and what must have been darry’s christmas sweater considering the size, and a sleeping steve on the couch.

“pony!”

he spins around in surprise, eyes darting around in search of the voice until they land on curly.

“holy shit! curly!” he jumps towards him, curly catching him in a tight grip as he swings him around. “man! i thought-“

“yeah yeah, everyone ‘round here needs to do a little less of that.”

“missed you, pone.”

ponyboy hums, smiling.

“missed you too,” he pauses, punching curly’s arm lightly. “next time, come back a few days earlier to help with the tree. darry’s been having my head since ‘parently i been puttin’ the baubles on wron-“

curly interrupts him with a playful shove which is quickly reciprocated by an elbow to the ribs.

“merry christmas, curls.”

curly grins, snatching the hat off his head and ruffling his hair before putting the hat on his own mess of curls.

“merry christmas, pony.”

[contrastparadoxx]

Send me 🐛 and 2 (or MAYBE 3) characters and I’ll make an entirely theoretic child for them

[dimalry]

@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 7: Aesthetics

Do NOT repost without credit!

IG: dimaalry

[porcelaintoybox23]

Sladick: Who are you?

Jonmund: You but medieval and healthier

[neonshrike]

“Can’t you see I want you from the way I push you away?” Lars Pinfield/Jade Costas (Ghostbusters)

Tag List (check my pinned to join!):

@captastra @socially-awkward-skeleton @tommyarashikage @rhettsabbott @imogenkol

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@the-lastcall @spaceratprodigy @truly-very-british @teamhawkeye @confidentandgood

@cloudofbutterflies92 @cptcassian @thedeadthree @shegetsburned @g0dspeeed

[greghatecrimes]

considering writing a one-shot where after Wilson dies, House tracks down Thirteen, finds her alone in the middle of nowhere, and basically tells her she’s stuck with him until it’s time to make good on his promise to kill her. House drags her back to, of all places, a farmhouse, that looks like he’s been living in it. There are remnants of Wilson there, too; pictures from the escapades of their last months together, a jacket of James’ hung permanently over a kitchen chair. A ring on House’s left hand that most certainly was not there during his marriage to Dominika. She fights him on it at first, but eventually gives in that it wouldn’t be so bad, going off the grid and moving into the spare bedroom that’s been sitting empty since before Wilson passed. House sets up a range for the spud gun on the land. He gets a few chickens in memory of that stupid bet Wilson won ages ago. She tells him about the adventures she’d had with Amy, and he tells her about everything he and Wilson got to enjoy. It’s peaceful and quiet and Thirteen never thought she’d be comfortable with that, but they take care of each other when the days are hard (and he takes care of her as things start to get worse). Despite it all, she’s not afraid like she thought she would be. She’s not alone. She has House, who will be there to send her off and tell her, “Goodnight, Thirteen. Sleep well.” when the time comes.

edit: hiii this is a fic now! you can check it out here :)

[erinarigby]

not perfect but this is the closest image to describe how i feel when i read or look at beatles ship content that isn’t mclennon

[stinkypeanutbutter]

You know you love a character when you hate them

[cabeswaterdrowned]

(Spencer poll is still up for a couple hours if you want to get votes in https://www.tumblr.com/morocorra/755421496778866688?source=share )

tagging: @sergeantpixie @nocakesformissedith @snixx @whodoesnataliehave @thechosenthree