#and cookies and warm milk!!!

[dotieeee]

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile. 🤍 (No pressure, though, just enjoy!)

[cuppajj]

we are so back

[ancientsstudies]

I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies.

ig credit: jasminabylund.

[akq96618]

even if the whole world against you

[dragonbma]

Last Day of Blockmas! Santa Vos? Santa Claustrophobic?

[babypowderdreams]

Neeeed someone to astral project to me soooo we can watch just watch cute movies and hold each other.

Preferably @littlerneiir

(I’ll def have warm cookies and milk tho)

[dearchose]

yall know about Shadow milk cookie? I think he has been overbaked cause holy hylia- he's hot

why

why is this cookie hot?

also- drawn while on VC with @arandomlemonxd

[rataticaisdreaming]

hey sanders sides fandom, i miss you 🫶

here's a lil doodle i made last year of patton hugging my teddy bear 🩵✨

[spidrboots]

OKAY forcing myself to be done for the night. goodnight strange ppl hiding in my phone !!!!!!! i hope u all rest easy & have good days ahead. <3

[verrixstudios]

« Muddied blood fills the rivers

forcing even those of ice to shiver

look not for dull scales

though from mud comes the wails

Four dragonets will rise to power

before a final acid shower

dirty blood will rise to fame

a new territory here to claim »

“Mako, what is this?” Flourish asked in confusion, the bright blue and rather lanky dragon was staring at the tattered scroll, a face of confusion.

“Uh..” Mako murmured, looking to the ground sheepishly. She was shorter and rounder than the bright dragon before her, and her dark scales were helping her blend into the shadows she so desperately wanted to crawl away and hide into. She was always a terrible liar, and even worse at hiding what she wanted to lie about. Her nightwing father blamed it on her seawing side.

“Mako!” Flourish repeated, urgently this time. She turned quickly, pushing the paper into the other’s chest. It fluttered pathetically to the ground, landing on the dark talons below. “Cause it sounds a lot like one of your prophecies again!”

“It’s nothing!” Mako complained as she lowered her head, her frilled tail swiping the tattered page into a pile of similar tattered pages. “I told you, those things get stuck in my head until I write them down! It drives me bonkers, actually.”

“Okay well usually they’re something like ‘oogly boogly wow, dinners gonna be a cow, yay-“

“None of them have ever said ‘Boogly’!” Mako interrupted with a wrinkle in her dark snout.

“My point is-“ Flourish interrupted in return, huffing, “-Why does this sound like an actual prophecy and why was it hidden in a pile of scraps?”

“Because… It’s weird. It’s nothing like my other ones…” Mako mumbled dejectedly, her wings folded right at her sides, fiddling and fidgeting. “I doubt it’s one that comes true,”

“Even the ones about dinner are always true!” Flourish exclaimed with a flick of her tail, her scales flickering a mix of colors she was clearly trying to hide. She was concerned. Why was this so weird? Why was Mako acting like this? Why now?!

“Well- yeah! Cause they usually hunt for whatever they say!” Mako retorted, growing nervous with the raised voices echoing in the room. A dull ache was beginning to gnaw at the back of her head. Something about claws. Jaws? Brawls?

“Yeah but your writing always comes true! It’s when we know to prepare for injuries all the time! So what makes this one wrong? What does it mean? Are we in danger? Are we going to get land?” The questions were practically pouring from Flourishes mouth as the practically neon dragon began to pace the ground. She didn’t notice the others discomfort until the dark dragon rather suddenly pushed past.

Mako awkwardly scrambled toward the slab in the corner, a groan rumbling from her throat as she held her head. She dipped her claws into the slowly drying ink spills nearest and began to scratch into another opened scroll.

« Within each tribe, claws will sharpen

blood will spill before three moons darken

Only end in sight to see

each queen gives territory

Acid will burn

Fire will spill

The darkest night churns

Under a new queens will »

[feliformiaboy]

most mentally stable front bottoms listener

[sphylor]

projecting on Dew time again! i think he age regresses sometimes because he's just such a cosy and eepy little guy. if he's all cuddled up with another ghoul on the sofa in the evening and hes warm and comfortably tired he sometimes slips. when the others realise he's down he gets warm milk and even a cookie sometimes to go with it and then he gets swaddled up in a blanket and carried off to bed by Mountain or Rain (though they normally both go with him). they read him a bedtime story if he hasnt already fallen asleep by the time they reach their room and all snuggle up together for an early night

[arcflashhazard]

what if the hcq were just a bunch of dnd nerds that split up due to life happenings and what we’ve been getting about the happier days is the campaign and the bitter end is jing yuan’s dramatization of their inevitable split

now he teaches children how to play this beloved game and he adopted a kid who turned out loves the game just as much as him, yanqing, while trying to find healthy ways to cope with grief

he lives off his considerable winnings from his time as a professional starchess player and now he gets to watch yanqing grow

fate of other hcq members:

baiheng died of cancer jingliu is in physical therapy after getting into an accident after baiheng died dan feng moved away yingxing moved with dan feng and both of them were seeking out better paying jobs. jing yuan hasnt seen them since

(dan heng is living his best life playing dnd with the astral express, whom he all met in high school and college [march in high school, caelus + stelle and himeko in college, welt was found by himeko to become their dm. he is currently dating caelus.])

[slugsby-pt3]

the parasocial relationship I have with every single one of you is truly insane

[gh03tb0y]

pre(teen)

I’m sorry I hated you for so long. I’m 

sorry that I dug your grave with 

my bare hands and shoved rocks into your

mouth, shutting up your tongue. I’m sorry I loathed 

your innocence, your ignorance. What 

little we had. I never comforted you, wishing 

you’d disappear, that we died. I’m sorry 

no one ever held your hand and that I 

wasn’t able to. I’m sorry I blamed you

instead of him. You’re tired and beautiful 

and this time I’ll build a better headstone for

you. This time I’ll be everything we wanted.

I’ll leave flowers at your grave every Saturday and

we’ll sit in silence and I won’t tell 

you how I’m doing because you already 

know. I live in your skin and you 

live in mine. Rotting and stitched back 

up in the same breath.