#i can see it Clearly in my mind's eye

[silverskye13]

this isn't a request or anything. i just can't stop thinking about how Tanguish and Impulse would interact. like at first Impulse is like "oh no a helsmet" and puts on a scary act, but Tanguish is reminded of The Demon and starts shaking and then Impulse is like "oh" and comforts him and then they actually get along really well but they're still both kind of suspicious. do you see my vision?

I do see your vision! I can also clearly see some of the dialogue in my head. The way Impulse speaks.

"Hey Tango! Didn't think I'd see you he--oh! Jeez! You're a-- oh my gosh! You're one of the--!"

Reaching to his belt where he keeps his axe, wavering over getting big and scary or not [because he is! Big and scary. He's, well he's kind of a demon right? He can still do the smokescreen and the glowing eyes and the deep growl thing. And maybe he builds himself up to that a little. Square the shoulders, frown, splay the wings-- big and scary, he can do that.] Except, gosh, this little guy looks terrified doesn't he?

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I didn't--"

[Didn't scare you? Well obviously he had, and that had been kinda intentional? Should he apologize? Apologies rarely make things worse anyway.]

"Hey, I'm sorry. You startled me is all. You okay? I won't hurt you, promise. What are you doing in my neck of the woods, dude? Shouldn't you be in the nether somewhere? No no! It's fine! I'm not gonna make you go back. Hey, there's a shop up the road here where we sell food and stuff. Can I make it up to you by getting you a snack or something?"

[xxplastic-cubexx]

obligatory beach divorce doodling

bonus rough cover redraw of x-men #41 (1995) But Beach Divorce below cut

[vix-png]

aggretsuko and dungeon meshi because why not . yeah . shove my stupid little blorbos into my stupid little anti-capitalist show .

[menlove]

do u think john & paul ever kissed even once jokingly during the pyramus & thisbe rehearsals.......................... i think they did

[ghouljams]

Here's cowboy!Ghost's "guest" house on the Price family ranch

[mutualcombat]

using my psionic tadpole mind powers to predict the next astarion smut kink craze

....mmmm....mmmzzzzzzhhhh....

hngngnhnhngn......

parallel....

hnnnnnnrhrhrhghh... masturbation

parallel masturbation......and wait...

Wait...wait....dbshshwjjshdhwhaj I'm getting something else FJDHSHSHHS

spanking

[carlyraejepsans]

this is twice as funny bc a while ago me and roscoe were talking about the hypothetical better timeline where undertale is exactly the same except sans is a woman, and came to the conclusion that the fandom would have a small sect of lesbians writers dedicated to giving sans and undyne the most ridiculous past dyke drama you can imagine

[wander-wren]

what i need in my life so so so so so much is just like, some lil enamel pins of ten nine and juice. unfortunately they have such generic names and the search functions seem to frequently think 17776 and 1776 are the same thing, so i have not found anyone who has made such a thing

[twocutlines]

i have to confess i kind of hope nothing bad happens to tommy NOT because i like him or want him around. i think i have made my stance on that matter pretty clear at this point. but because i think there is a real possibility that within seconds of the episode ending we would start seeing posts calling him the first male victim of fridging

[clonecylinderjuice]

My hypothesis is that we will eventually get real canon Kalluzeb but it’ll be via like, an off-hand mention in one of the cookbooks. Of the guy running into a Lasat and his human husband, and making dinner that appeals to both of them. Above like, a recipe for the Star Wars equivalent of a steak salad or whatever.

[samcscreams]

This video is sending me💀💀💀

[clingyduoapologist]

What if percy was Latino

This would be awesome because it would make Percy Leo interactions even funnier

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

What was the moment/scene that officially cemented you as a Sontails shipper? Or was it multiple?

Ah good question!

So if you've seen my sontails/sonine posting you've probably heard the story of me getting into sontails (no worries if you haven't)

Just to summarize, my journey started with Sonine and Movie!Sontails. The Grim scene in S1 E6 of Prime and the entire bar scene in Movie 2 just blasted me with second hand embarrassment (the good kind) that (despite me being eh about shipping them at that time) made be seriously go "Okay if just brothers why are these scenes directed this way". Sonic's feelings aside, I felt I knew in those moments that Nine and movie!Tails had possibly been written to have a subtextual crush on Sonic, and strong feelings in general. This was...my gateway.

But an "officially cemented" moment is a bit hard for me to specifically narrow down. I can tell you that by the time I'd been checking the Sonine tag after starting S2 of Prime and finished S2 I had to come to terms with the fact that I genuinely saw something there between the two of them (and was feeling frustrated that no one else was seemingly seeing it). At that point I'd settled as "I like Sonine but that doesn't mean I have to like all of Sontails".

Then I rewatched movie 2 a couple times and had to (similarly) come to terms with the fact that I was genuinely frustrated to not really see other people commenting on what I'd seen as potential subtext regarding Movie!Tails' feelings and that I liked this version as well.

So my gateway into Sontails was Prime and Sonic Movie 2, but accepting I liked most versions of Sontails/Sontails in general and not just a few specific versions was a bit of a slow journey. All I can say is that by the time I finished playing Colors Ultimate and got well into the Archie comics I knew I enjoyed Sontails just as much as I had come to enjoy Sonine, and was equally as obsessed with the dynamics.

[fleething]

i do not care how they make it happen but aziraphale and crowley deserve tenderness in s3. Not necessarily another kiss but just… az putting his hand on crowley’s neck as they look at each other, crowley being allowed to run their fingers through the angel’s hair, sitting together on the sofa with crowley’s head in az’s lap, az calling crowley ‘darling’ or ‘my dear’, crowley bringing their angel flowers, they deserve the opportunity to show the other how much they love them

[wyvernquill]

Finally some more Dreamling Anastasia AU!

(Obligatory link to the masterpost with all the other posts in this AU - it's also pinned at the top of my blog!)

So, it's been... a while... but I've recently finally got some motivation to write a bit more of this. Apologies to everyone really looking forward to the finale/resolution - I've decided to go all the way back to the start of the story, instead. I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless!

(Tag list: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-kingdom - since it's been a, uh, really long time, please let me know if you're no longer interested in this AU/fandom and don't want to be tagged anymore, I won't mind! On the other hand, if someone else would like to be tagged in future updates, please let me know!)

---

“Sister… it’s me.”

The man on the dilapidated theatre’s stage shrugs a heavy, moth-eaten velvet coat off his narrow shoulders. It crumples into a dark semi-circle around him, releasing a dramatic cloud of dust.

“Dream… of the Endless~”

.

“Ah. Hm.” A somewhat fussy older gentleman in the empty space usually reserved for the audience adjusts the small circular glasses on his nose, grimacing in a polite and distinctly English way - which he has, once, after first coming to this realm and taking this form, spent hours practising in the mirror - while checking a long list in front of him. “Mr… Carter, was it…?”

“Oh, please.” The man on stage flicks back his white-streaked bangs. “Call me Hal.”

“Yes. Of course, Mr. Hal.” The gentleman purses his lips. “That was… not, er. Not terrible, I suppose. And we’re pleased to note that you appear to have… brought your own cloak.”

“Don’t get used to it. Zelda and Chantal only let me borrow it for the audition.”

“Well, it is a lovely cloak. Only, ah, while Dream of the Endless was known to have quite striking eyes, I do think that, perhaps a little less eyeliner…”

“I could tone it down, I suppose, but I really think the performance would lose something without the makeup.” Hal sighs melodramatically. “I can sing and dance too, if you need it for your… what is this audition for, actually? Play? Music hall show? Ooo, one of those moving pictures?”

“Er.” The gentleman fidgets with his cane, grass-green eyes flickering around the empty theatre. “Well-”

“Thank you, Hal.” The younger man beside him interrupts with a winning smile that only barely covers the boredom and frustration lining a rather ruggedly handsome face. “We’ll let you know.”

“Hm.” Hal, clearly enough of an old hand in the acting business to know a polite “you’re not getting the role, piss off” when he hears one, frowns, and bends down to gather up the borrowed cloak, stalking off towards stage exit right with his head held high, not deigning either of the two men with even one more look.

“...I really do not think this will work, young Robert.” The older man mutters, decisively striking through Hal Carter’s name on his list. It is the last. “None of them look even remotely like him. And the voice-”

“I know, Gil. I know.” The younger man, Hob - only Gilbert is proper and precise enough to call him Robert - rubs at his temples, as if to stave off a headache. “They never manage to get the voice right, do they.”

“Ah, if it were only that…” Gilbert sighs, setting the list down. His eyes are soft and unfocused, seeing far into a past that has long since been razed to the ground. “His Lordship, he… he had a certain air about him, you understand. An otherworldly strangeness. He was the dream-maker, and dream-made, and to look at him was to gaze upon infinity.”

A soft scoff.

“Even if we claim that he has been greatly reduced by being turned into a meagre human - no offence, dear friend - as long as he does not have some spark of endlessness about him, nobody who has ever met him would fall for the ruse. And we are attempting to con his family. I simply cannot see any viable path to success.”

Hob does not respond, for a moment, picking up one of the flyers on their table.

It reads:

.

SEEKING Actor, slender, pale, tall, dark-haired, in the 20-40 age range to play the role of Dream of the Endless (method actors preferred). Generous pay and further benefits await. Auditions each weekday at 6pm at the Old Whickber Street Theatre, Soho. Ask for Hob and Gil.

.

“We’ll find him.” Hob insists. “The perfect pretender. He’s out there, I just know it.”

“We are not the first fools who have attempted a, a caper of this sort.” Gil points out, almost gently. “None of the others ever succeeded.”

“Yes. Well. None of the others managed to find and correctly identify the late Dream’s own pouch of genuine dream-sand on sale at the black market.” Hob shoots back, gesturing at the cord just barely peeking out from under Gil’s collar. (They’ve decided it would be safer if Hob comes into contact with the sand as little as possible, and Gilbert has taken to carrying it as closely to his heart as he can manage.) “It’s hard evidence, Gil, it’s a sign, it’s our chance - and it might just be enough. The trick with a good con is really making it look like you’re giving the mark exactly what they desperately want… and there’s nothing in the world Death of the Endless wants more than to have her brother back.”

.

(She wants it so desperately, in fact, that she’s offering immortality to any sentient being who manages to procure Dream for her.

And, well.

There’s nothing in the world Hob wants more than to live forever…)

.

“Your word in- or, well, kept out of Destiny’s ears, young friend.” Gil sighs, collecting his lists and notes and the remaining flyers, tucking them into his coat and reaching for his cane. “In the meantime, how about we go down to the public house and have a bit of a snifter to wash away the memories of all those atrocious performances, eh, my lad?”

“Best idea you had all day, Gil.” Hob grins, clapping a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “Are you buying?”

Gilbert raises one grey brow. “At the risk of provoking a joke regarding my non-human status: in your dreams, Robert.”

Hob laughs; and, together, they step out into the winter night, old snow crunching under their shoes and new flakes beginning to drift, gradually, down from the sky.

.

.

.

It has been a decade since the end of the Endless’ reign.

Ten years since humanity tore Destiny’s book from his hands and burned it.

Ten years since Destruction abandoned his siblings, hiding away in his own, separate exile. 

Ten years since Despair’s first aspect was killed, and another took her place.

Ten years since Delight went mad with grief and became Delirium…

.

And ten years since Dream of the Endless was captured, bound, turned human, and killed.

.

People still whisper about it. Still speculate, trade gossip and hearsay back and forth. Some insist that the Dream King yet lives, hidden away, turned human, just biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to return to his siblings.

It’s a lovely legend, Hob supposes. A fitting end and non-end, for the Lord of Stories, to live on in one… but that’s all it is. A pretty tale, which will breathe new life into a myth only for as long as it’s being told. It isn’t true…

…but now, ten years later, Hob and Gil will damn well make it so.

.

.

.

Ten years is also, coincidentally, all that a man a few streets down from the old theatre can remember of his life.

Ten years since he was found, naked and emaciated and bleeding, in a ditch next to some countryside road in East Sussex.

Ten years of fighting his way through a life in poverty, with no family, no friends, no-one to care for him, except perhaps the birds.

Ten years of strange and haunting dreams, blurred faces calling out to him with names he can never remember later but knows are his; ten years of waking every morning with tears on his face and a longing for someplace - and someones - he wishes he could remember; ten years of a woman’s voice begging him night after night to come home to her, to them.

.

Ten years of being much too busy starving and freezing and barely surviving to spare even a single thought to the dying legends of the Endless.

.

This man turns his face up to the sky, snowflakes catching in his dark hair and on his coat like stars glinting in the night; and he shivers, his breath clouding mist-white in the air, curling thin arms around a narrow torso.

(For a moment, just a moment, his eyes glow dark and infinite, a mirror to the night sky and the endless universe beyond.)

And then, he ducks his head down into his scarf, shivers again, and continues on through the snow.

Ten hard years have taught this man better than to waste his time standing about and daydreaming.

[hal-boy]

My friend just told me that she is making a Muppet AU for her fandom (awesome), and demanded that I reveal to her which Metal Gear Solid character would be the obligatory human if they made Muppet adaptions of MGS. I didn't have a sufficient answer for her so I'm outsourcing: who do you fine folks think would be the best character to be a human in Muppet Gear Solid?