#taxes-and-laundry

[rebloggingrexan]

In the event of nuclear holocaust, how do you intend to survive in the wasteland that is to follow?

I have learned from The Twilight Zone that in case of a Nuclear Holocaust the most important thing is to always have lots of spare pairs of reading glasses.

[onegiantmeep]

hey so what if this was my last straw

[norumaru]

Some 3rd semester Akeshu drawings. Finally played P5R and I have been changed forever........

[jaxmos]

has anybody done this yet

[philshotcocoa]

Cherishing the mundane things in life because you’re doing them with the person you love. ♡︎ ♡︎

[stargirldotcom]

- love in the mundane

warsh_tippy and zelda- whatever, dad/ minari/ new years day- taylor swift/ @death-born-aphrodite/ stay, stay, stay- taylor swift/ everything, everywhere, all at once/ i will- mitski/ @death-born-aphrodite/ fleabag/ sweet nothing- taylor swift

[eneriology]

my nice happy life

[chara-55]

For those who doesnt have Twitter, I've recently found these. Please pls plss go check it out 😭

These storyboards has me in shambles

Here's the link to the storyboards

I'd like to give my thanks to Zhi Khang & the other storyboarders for sharing us these 😭✨️

[riickgrimes]

This is a pretty bold move, but you said you believed in me. So, if you want this bench for yourself, I can take this large pizza past the big, blue building, and eat it alone at my miserable desk at my miserable job.

I do believe in you...And I do like pizza.

THE WALKING DEAD: THE ONES WHO LIVE 1.01 - "Years"

[arctvros]

after the dust settles

[lillotte17]

I have been in the solavellan fandom for...A While. (do not count the years, i beg) and everyone has their tropes and themes re: wolves/halla and hunter/prey and the New Herald being worshiped/the Old God nearly forgotten, and tbh I like bits and pieces of all of them, but like...

For me, the most compelling story is that Lavellan is just Some Guy (gn).

They meet Solas and accept that he is like them. He's an elf. One of The People. You are like me. I am like you. We are The Same People. And because of that, I will protect you with whatever power the humans around us have given me, because I know this is not the safest place for either of us.

And it just fucking... gets him, right? Because that's his whole deal. The world is broken because the people aren't People. He's not like them. They're not like him.

I just love the idea that this impossibly old, incredibly powerful sort-of-god, trips into a hole and nearly throws his entire game away because a regular person (albeit one who was thrust into extraordinary circumstances) decided to be kind. Offered him protection and friendship. Asked him to tell them stories. Grieved with him when he lost one of his oldest friends.

He could not deny that they were a person, because they treated him like a person.

I love how ordinary that is. How simple. How devastating.

'You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't.'

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi, would it be possible for you to write something about stephxdanny where danny has an ice core and can only visit steph in the winter season, usually in the other seasons they talk through a laptop that danny made with the help of tucker? or something like that, have a nice day.

Steph has been counting down to the first day of winter. She had worked her ass off to make sure all cases she was assigned were completed.

She spoke to her teachers beforehand, asking for any classwork they would give her. Steph had even informed her mother that she would be on a trip so she would not have to worry about her (or listen to her lectures) for a while.

She had told Bruce she wanted to be benched for a couple of days. He seemed almost relieved by her request, letting her know they would only call upon her in an emergency.

Everything was all set for when Danny would arrive. She will be taking her boyfriend on a winter wonderland tour in Gotham. Each section of the city had little festivals, events, and fun holes in the walls.

Danny will arrive on time this year for the winter arts festival. Disregarding the few booths dedicated to Christmas decorations- as Danny hated that holiday with a burning passion due to years of resentment. He only associated bad members of his parents arguing around that time- there were many things she knows he adored.

Like those natural soaps from Mrs. Miller on Street Nine or the unique winter edition fudges from O'Malley's Bakery.

There is so much excitement coursing through her veins that she has to do the most push-ups until she's so tired she has to go to bed. Otherwise, Steph will never get a wink of sleep and will be too exhausted to enjoy seeing her boyfriend again.

In the morning, Danny will be going through the portal. The thought whispers in her mind and a large grin blooms. Not caring for the sweat pouring down her face or the slight shake in her arms, Steph thinks about it repeatedly.

Pumping her arms up and down, she giggles as butterflies flutter in her belly.

The following day, she gets up earlier than usual to shower, shave, and spend an hour on her hair. Usually, she doesn't bother that much, as her hair isn't too hard to manage. A good comb with a headband was her usual go-to style, but today, she wanted to curl it and braid some snowflakes into it.

Steph had taken ages picking out a good outfit. She usually dressed well, but this would be the first time she would see Danny in nearly a year. Who could blame her for wanting to look good?

She skipped out of her house, going to the oldest cemetery in Gotham. The place where she first met Danny all those years ago, ignoring the stun looks she received on the street. It wasn't often that she did her make-up that wasn't stubble or that she forgo casual wear, but when she did well, she knew she was a knockout.

It's something the Waynes always played up at the galas. There was a danger to being this pretty; she knew that better than most in places like Crime Alley, but Steph knew that if she thought she looked good, why not show it off if she felt good?

There was nothing vain in being comfortable and happy in your own skin. Steph would kick the ass of anyone who said otherwise.

Her strike was long and confident as she slowly entered Old Gotham. The buildings started to look less metal and glass, turning into red bricks and wooden beams. She takes a moment to appreciate the buildings, breathe in the lovely winter air, and take in the sounds of the city slowly coming to life.

There wasn't a lot of foot traffic in Old Gotham, seeing as most of the stuff here was protected for historical tours, some courtrooms, and the occasional little shops and restaurants.

It could have been a good tourist place, but when people came to Gotham, they tended to go further into the city where all the chain stores, newer buildings, and shopping malls were. It was why Steph had run away to her when she was fourteen. She knew that most people who visited Old Gotham were either retired or locals.

Half the time, the streets only had a few people walking them, looking into windows of small businesses or taking pictures of the old buildings. She had figured none of them would care if she ran away from home after her shitty dad got too drunk once.

Steph had been young then, too small to start her Spoiler crusade on her Da, and had chosen life on the streets as better than that hateful place. She had wandered into the cemetery, climbing into a mausoleum to escape the snowstorm that passed through the city, and sitting with he back against the coffin, feeling small and miserable.

She had never been one to fear the cemetery or the dead. She knew that living men were much worse, but even she had screamed when the coffin's lid had suddenly slid off, revealing a bright green light.

The portal inside the coffin would open at winter's first noon, then close on winter's last noon.

She remembers stumbling backward, too frightened to think correctly and run, when a head slowly reached out of the portal, gripping the side of the coffin, and a boy her age heaving himself out of the coffin with a grunt. His snow-white heart sparkled in the portal's glow, his slightly tan skin blemish-free, and his glowing green eyes pinned her to her place.

He was the definition of beauty. If it had been a movie scene, she knew the musical theme for him would have been flutes, harps and singing angles harmonizing as he slowly smiled at her.

She threw the brick she picked up in the alley as hard as she could at his face. Danny's head snapped back, nose breaking, and a gush of green blood oozed from his face as he cried out, "Why!?"

Steph pulled out the gun she had stolen from her father, aiming it at the boy who swearing and cursing up a storm from his little portal. He froze when he saw it aimed at him, the sound of her releasing the safety loud in the small stone room.

Neither mentions the slight shake in her fingers- before Bruce trained the fear out of her- as she glared at him. "Dead things should stay dead."

Then Danny had done what made her fall for him. He made two finer guns at her while narrowing his eyes. "You pull that trigger, and I'll pull mine."

"What? I have a gun!" She snapped only to watch him smirk with enough mischievous glee in his eyes that it felt like a slap. How was something dead able to seem more alive than she was?

"So does most of America. You ain't special." The boy taunted, and for some reason, that made her laugh so hard that she ended up on the floor wheezing. The conversation had been much smoother when she wasn't aiming a weapon at him.

She discovered that he was a being that could only visit her world during winter through the means of an ancient society that long ago vanished from history. He went by the name Danny. He could snap his fingers and shift into a human-looking boy, and the most surprising fact about him was that he genuinely seemed to love how different humans lived in Gotham.

She had gotten so used to how her city was terrible that she had forgotten what was good about it. The sights she saw in everyday mundane life were something Danny had waited a whole year, saving up every penny, to see.

She also found out he had the money and the smarts to get them a nice warm hotel room- separated by a door- and a love for peppermint lattes. He offered her cash to help him explore the city, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Now, three years later, every winter, Steph compiles a list of places to go, things to do, and people to meet, rekindling the love for her city burning brightly in her chest.

She protected this city by stopping her dad and breaking his plans. Her spite and hate for him was the reason.

But Danny had turned into the motivation. Into her heart. That kept her going because he saw this place- and her- as something worth crossing the realms to.

She places the two letters and a warm pastry bag on the ground. She sits down, crosses her legs, and checks her watch again. There are only five more minutes till the clock strikes noon.

Steph leans back, eyes on the lid of the coffin, waiting for a movement that will alert her that her heart has returned for another incredible three months.

Danny can't stay once winter ends; just like the snow-white of his hair, he will melt in the spring. He warned her long ago that if she really wanted to give her heart to him, then it would suffer bruises of their distance. He would care for her and her heart as much as he could, but there were rules to this world that did not allow him to truly become a part of it.

She had told him that no matter how long it would be, she would love him through each season, year, and moment she drew breath. No matter how long it's been, she will always be sitting in this exact spot again and again, every year, for this moment.

The moment winter returned him to her.

The coffin shakes a little as a familiar glow shines through the small cracks.

[marspumpkin]

hc that, in the split second before jon and martin die buried under the wreck of the panopticon, they get a glimpse into the other universes the tapes are going into. they see themselves, over and over and over. themselves, living together and married and fighting over what canned soup to buy and cheering at their kid's dance recital and exhausted on a road trip and cooking for each other and growing old together and meeting as kids and screaming at each other in an argument and moving into a house and looking at old photo albums and dancing to corny music and comforting each other after bad days and getting shitfaced with their coworkers and adopting a child and

and there are universes where they've been together since school there are universes where they've never met there are universes where they're estranged exes and where they've been married for 60 years. there are universes where jon rotted in the buried and where martin faded away in the lonely and where they never moved past the tense s1 disdain and where they lived out the rest of their days in the safehouse undisturbed and where they were all killed before they even got the chance to know each other

but they know for each of those billions of universes that ended in blood and tears and death there are a billion more where their biggest concern is what kind of soup to buy for dinner. and that, before you die, is the ultimate kind of euphoria

[regrator-the-ninth]

He’s trying…

[joykitsu]

[hisbucky]

Chris: Buck, why do you love my dad? Buck: Why? Why there's plenty of reasons, but why are you asking about it, buddy? Chris: Cause he's so boring. Not saying I'm not happy you love him, but he's kinda lame. Buck: Well Chris, sometimes the boring stuff is the kind of thing that makes me love your dad. Chris, squinting: I don't get it. Buck, chuckling: You will. Someday, you'll find the person you want to do laundry and taxes with.