Not today Justin
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Andulka
Keni
Cosimo Galluzzi
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
YOU ARE THE REASON
Today's Document
Xuebing Du
#extradirty
occasionally subtle
The Stonewall Inn
RMH
trying on a metaphor
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
d e v o n
NASA
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
seen from France
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Oman
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France
seen from Maldives
seen from Thailand
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Oman
seen from Saudi Arabia
@boovonphantom
It happened again. I thought it was behind me, but the dreams came back. I was up all night. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, it haunts me. I forgot about it for years but then I remembered that… ‘Avatar’, the giant international blockbuster used the ‘papyrus’ font as its logo…
Which Avatar? ATLA? OR BLUE CAT PEOPLE?
…you’re lucky I’m a stubborn asshole because these took way longer to make than I’d like to admit.
holy fucking shit
did you just gif the whole fucking movies
Fucking genius
Bitch, EVEN THE CREDITS??
THIS DUDE JUST MADE GIFS OF ENTIRE MOVIES HOLLY SHIT
I JUST GOT MY ENTIRE LIFE! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
My childhood in one gifset 💜
Not all hero's wear capes...
Introducing, for the pleasure of all of you, baby Estelle Blofis! (x)
So my mom told me a story...
Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week.
Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts.
So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him.
So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that’s like… 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself.
That’s approximately 835 loaves of banana bread.
Now
Skip ahead a few years…
and they’re all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad’s bread and their mom comes in, “I don’t think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!”
“What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!”
This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that he couldn’t stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret.
My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was.
I just told my mom this had 1000 notes on it and let me tell you what
She had two responses.
1. Tell them about the mac n cheese
2. Tell me when it hits a million
mOM.
WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE MAC N CHEESE
WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE MAC N CHEESE?!!!
Monroe of Teenwolf
Monroe is the Umbridge of Teenwolf. Dis biatch has got to die!
hey if you’re LGBT reblog and say in the tags what you identify as and whether you prefer the front, middle, or back of a rollercoaster
edit: terfs don’t touch
Aro/ace He/him [Biological male] Front
Weasley christmas sweaters
Molly weasley probably puts "F jr" or "F II" So she doesnt confuse Fred II from her son Fred.
I just realized...
Joggers are just the skinny jeans of sweatpants. No wonder I hate them.
Real Love
It’s ya girl, Spaghetti, back at it again with another fanfic.
In which Sherwin goes to Jonathon’s house to do homework together.
Jonathon
It was quite a warm Friday. Kids were filing out of the school grounds, laughing and joking and shoving, cars were making their way down the street and everybody was relieved that the week was over. The only person that wasn’t smiling was Jonathon; first off, he had a bunch of maths homework to do. Jonathon hated maths. Most of the work was really annoying anyways. When on earth was he ever going to need to know the square root of a number, or how to use Pythagoras Theorem? Secondly, he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier today.
“Come on you don’t really like him, do you?” Jonathon looked up from his lunch. “What do you mean?” The blonde made a face that looked like a sneer. “Y’know. That ginger kid. Sherwood.” “Sherwin.” “Whatever. The point is I don’t think you’re gay Jon.” “Yeah,” A boy with dark brown hair piped in. “My sister used to think she was.” The boy shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. “But it was just a phase.” “Exactly.” The blonde nodded in agreement. “It’s not real love. How could it be?” The two boys laughed together. Jonathon didn’t feel hungry anymore. Ruffling his hair, Jonathon let out a breath through his pursed lips. It was true he’d hadn’t thought about guys in that way before, but what he felt for Sherwin was real. His face got flushed and he started smiling way to much and when he looked at him, so many different feelings bubbled up in his chest he couldn’t even describe it. “Geez. I’m acting like a girl with a silly crush…” Then he saw a familiar messy mop of red hair in the crowd. Then he burst into flames. Sherwin “Guess who!” An arm wrapped itself around Sherwin’s shoulders making him yelp. “J-Jonathon!” Good lord.His voice literally just broke thirty times in a row. The brunette laughed and pecked the smaller boy on the forehead. Sherwin went bright pink, a wobbly smile spreeading on his face. “So, um, how are you?” Sherwin mentally smacked himself for being so awkward. Jonathon’s nose wrinkled as he looked at the workbook he was carrying in the crook of his arm. “Could be better. Miss Lavender set a bunch of homework and I already know I’m gonna do bad.” “I CAN HELP YOU!” Jonathon looked shocked for a second before his broke out into a grin. “Really? You’d help me with my maths?” Sherwin could feel his getting redder as he nodded. Jonathon beamed so widely a dimple appeared in his cheek. “That’s great! Let’s go!” He grabbed Sherwin by the hand and started running faster than Sherwin ever could. “W-Wait! Where are we going?” “To my house!” “At least let me call my mum first!”
“So I just have to divide by two after that?” “Yep, then you have your answer.” “Whoa, it’s a lot easier when you explain it.” Sherwin smiled a wobbly smile before looking back at his own book. His face refused to go back to a normal shade as he couldn’t stop focusing on the fact that he was in Jonathon’s room. Sure the door was open and they were doing homework but still. He also couldn’t get over how draw-able Jonathon was. His face was the definition of concentration; his brows were slightly furrowed, his blue eyes partially covered by long lashes, while a few loose strands of hair fell in front of his forehead. Sherwin was so caught up in his sketching he didn’t realize Jonathon watching him.
Jonathon
“Are you drawing me?” The red head jumped, his face turning the same hue as his hair. “Um, I, er, n-no, uh, maybe?” Jonathon quirked an eyebrow, trying his best not to grin like an idiot. Scooting over to Sherwin he peered down at the drawing, his eyes widening slightly. “Wow. That’s amazing.” Jonathon couldn’t help but blush upon seeing the sketch. The pencil lines were so soft and delicate, he could almost see the love that Sherwin was drawing him with. “T-thanks.” Jonathon looked up at the boy, realizing how close they were, noses almost touching.“We should take a break.” “Um, Okay do you wanna-” Before even thinking about what he was doing, Jonathon took the book out of Sherwin’s hands and put down on the table. Wrapping his arms around the smaller boy’s waist he leaned back so they were both lying on the bed. He couldn’t help but smile when Sherwin let out a little squeak. “I really, really, like you, Sherwin.” Jonathon felt the red head hesitantly wrap his arms around him, stuttering out something that sounded like “I like you too.” “Not real love…” The words of his friends echoed his brain. “What do they know?” Maybe they wouldn’t be together forever, Jonathon and Sherwin, but right now, at this moment, the feelings they felt were as real as anything, and that is enough.
Sherwin
Sherwin’s heart beat steadily as they cuddled. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss Jonathon on he lips, right there and then. But no just yet. Not yet.
I hope y’all enjoyed this fanfic! If you have any suggestions, feedback, or if I made any errors just let me know. Jonathon and Sherwin belong to Beth and Esteban.
YES!
2 constant thoughts while reading redwall 1. “god i love redwall” 2. “how big are these animals supposed to be”
Jared Padelecki as Andy Beast
Why does Andy look like Jared from spn?
Some people have these like fandom specific blogs and then there’s me:
Just imagine this, Canadian Slytherins being the quietest, most polite, friendly, Cunning peices of shit
this XD send me Canadian Slytherin stuff. I need more Canadian Slytherin stuff in my life
Canadian Slytherins who bake maple leaf shaped cookies that are laced with a potion.
Canadian Slytherins who will verbally and if it comes to it, physically fight people who say that Canada’s boring or useless.
Canadian Slytherins who love the colour red because it’s one of the main colours of their country but also hate red at the same time cause it’s the colour of gryffindor
THE RED THING 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
Canadian Slytherins getting overprotective about their Hufflepuff friends
Canadian Slytherins trying to play quidditch on ice
Quidditch on ice sounds awesome
Reaper: Chapter Two
His hand was warm.
Isa pulled me to my feet. “Just a second,” he said, scanning the area.
I didn’t feel dead. I could feel the wind on my skin and my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were trembling with adrenaline. That had to be a good sign.
“Kat,” Isa said, startling me. I had been staring at my hands so intently that I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand to me again.
“I’m not dead,” I informed him a bit giddily, taking his hand again.
Isa didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. “This way,” he said, pointing with his free hand. I looked, but he seemed to be pointing towards thin air.
He led me away from the broken highway and my silver car, wading through the faded brown grass. After about twenty yards he stopped and turned to me.
“I need you to think of a place,” he said, “Any place.”
My mind went blank. “Any place?”
“Anywhere. Visualize it in your mind. Got it?” I hesitated before nodding. “Good. Now we’re going to take one more step together.”
I looked at the grass before us. It didn’t look any different from any other patch of grass we’d passed. I drew a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“And go.”
As we stepped forward together, the air went…soft. Like a deep, thick mattress. Like holding an overripe peach in your hands and slowly pressing in your thumbs, letting them sink into it. Not hot or cold or anything like that. Just soft.
Less than a moment passed before the softness was gone; I didn’t even have time to blink. We were still standing in the grass by the highway. I could see my car close by and the mountains looming in the distance. But the edges of the mountains were vague and unclear, and the light that filtered through the clouds was tinted red, almost as though it was shining through rose-colored glass. More telling was the quiet. The wind had disappeared, and the grass was silent and still.
“You know,” Isa commented, “I think people usually choose somewhere other than the place they’re currently standing.”
“I panicked,” I responded, taking in everything around me, “Which seems to be my basic state of existence at this point.”
Unlike everything else, Isa seemed more real than ever. The basics were still the same: pale, ashy skin stretched tight over his body, white hair, and jet black eyes set deep in their sockets. His fingers and limbs were overly long for his body, and he was wearing a black hooded coat with loose sleeves, grey pants, boots, and a t-shirt with a vintage ad for spam.
However, his skin lacked the translucent quality it usually had, and his shadow -
“You have a shadow,” I blurted out, “You have a - the grass. You’re actually crushing down the grass.” I knelt down and confirmed for myself that yes, the grass could be pressed down, and then I turned around and thrust out my hand. The softness was waiting just feet behind me. “Where are we?”
“This is an inbetween place,” he replied, watching as I shuffled a few feet to the side and stuck out my hand again, “We needed somewhere safe to talk.”
I pulled my hand from the softness and tried again. “And the deserted highway wasn’t cutting it?”
Isa pressed his lips together. “It’s not humans that I’m worried about overhearing us.”
I paused mid thrust. “Oh.” The fear which had almost been forgotten in my wonder flared up.
“Here,” Isa said, and he took my hand again, leading me around whatever invisible portal we had passed through. Almost mindlessly I walked towards the car.
“Are we safe here, then?”
He shrugged. “Should be. I don’t think I was followed - there’s no good reason anyone would, really, I’m not a major player. But it’s not wise to talk about these things in the open on principle.”
We reached the car, and I stretched out my hand to touch it. It was solid under my fingers, but the numbers on the license plate were scrambled, changing every time I blinked.
Isa stopped me as I went to open the driver’s side door.
"I just wanted to see if it would start,” I said.
Isa shook his head. “It might, but it’s not wise to go through any doors here. There’s no telling where you might end up.”
A little disappointed, I perched on the trunk instead, pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them. Isa stood before me, hands shoved in his pockets.
“So…” I started, Isa looking at me expectantly, “Are you an angel?”
Isa burst out laughing. It was an odd sound, out of place in the unnatural silence of the inbetween.
“No, and I wouldn’t let an angel hear you say that if I were you. Actually, it would probably be fine; most angels I’ve met are quite nice. But trust me, if you ever meet an angel, you’ll know it. People tend to fall over when they show up.”
“Okay, not an angel.” There went half the theories I’d ever read. “Then what are you? And don’t say a reaper.”
“I never really liked that name anyway,” he replied. He kicked the ground for a moment, thinking. “I’m the guardian of your soul. I’ve been with you since your soul first joined your body. I will ensure no one touches it until your life is complete.”
“…And when my life is complete?”
“I take your soul,” he answered nonchalantly, “ - Kat?”
I rolled off the car, running into the field, running towards the softness.
Maybe he wasn’t an angel after all. But there were other theories about the reapers.
“Kat?” he called after me, “I’m not taking your soul here and now.”
I stumbled to a stop in a panic. The grass all looked the same. Whatever gateway we’d walked through wasn’t marked by any kind of visual cue. I was effectively trapped.
“Maybe you’re not taking it now,” I said as I turned, arms tight by my sides, hands clenched, “but you’re going to.”
Isa walked towards me slowly, “That probably wasn’t the best way for me to phrase that.” I shrank away from him instinctively, and he sighed. “This would be easier if I was an angel. They’re good at explaining things. Can I try again?”
He waited until I nodded hesitantly.
“I’m the guardian of your soul. I was bound to you the moment your soul entered your body. While you live, I’ll protect your soul from harm. When your days are complete, I’ll carry your soul to its rest. I’m not going to kill you, consume your soul, drain your life force, steal your corporeal form, keep you in a tortured disembodied state devoid of all sensation, or anything else of that kind.”
I stared at him. “That’s…really specific.”
“But you’re not running this time,” Isa noted.
“If you’re lying, I’m screwed anyway,” I retorted.
“Ah.” Isa’s body seemed to droop ever so slightly. “I liked it better when you just trusted me.”
“And I liked it better when I wasn’t afraid I was going crazy,” I snapped. I shut my eyes and paused, willing myself to breath deeply. “I’m tired. I’m stressed and exhausted and I have no clue what’s going on. You disappeared for two weeks and I didn’t even know reapers could do that, and now you’re talking and you touched me and I’m somehow not dead and we’re in a freaking alternate dimension or something and it’s just a bit much.”
“I didn’t intend to let things get this out of hand,” Isa admitted, “I only thought I’d be gone for a few hours at most.”
Finally, the question that had been burning in my chest for weeks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”
“There was a reaper who needed help. He and his human were being targeted, and they weren’t going to make it.”
“Are they okay?”
His face brightened a bit. “They are. The woman died and he was able to deliver her soul safely.”
“Your definition of a happy ending and mine are a little different,” I muttered, “What did they need protection from?”
Isa looked grim. “There are many beings who would want to misuse a human soul,” he said softly, “And there are others who would like nothing more than to see a reaper give into the temptation to take advantage of their charge. Some of these were attacking this reaper in the hope of either claiming the soul for themselves or, if nothing else, forcing the reaper into a position where he drew on the soul for power. I thought they’d back off once I came to his aid, but they fought until the end.”
Behind Isa’s shoulder, I saw something like a dark smudge on the horizon where the mountains met the sky. A horrible sense of wrongness settled in my gut.
“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he continued, “And it shouldn’t -”
“Isa,” I interrupted, pointing urgently, “There’s something here.”
Isa turned to look. The smudge was getting larger. “No,” he said, “No no no no!” He grabbed my hand.
“We need to move now!” He took off across the field, dragging me behind him. We passed through the softness and the world shifted, the rosy light turning grey. We sprinted back to my car.
I looked back towards the mountains. I couldn’t see anything.
“Get in the car,” Isa ordered, and I hurried to do so. After buckling myself in, I looked up to see Isa pull out a gun.
“Drive home as fast as you can,” he said, ignoring my shock, “And don’t stop until I say so.” With that, he swung himself onto the roof of my car.
I turned on the car and made a U-turn, pressing the pedal to the floor. A minute later gun shots rang out, and I looked into the mirror to see something burst through the portal and hurtle down the broken highway in pursuit.
Everyone has a reaper. The further away it is, the longer you have left to live. Every day it inches a little bit closer, but it is always there. Except yours, which disappeared three weeks ago
I pulled over to the side of the highway, legs aching from sitting so long. I was in the middle of nowhere, and I’d driven hours to get here.
I steeled myself and turned off the car.
Everyone’s born with one. A reaper. People say nobody’s reaper looks the same, like everyone’s personal terrifying snowflake of death. No one knows for certain, though, because you can only see your own reaper.
Very little is actually known about them. It’s hard to study something you can never touch.
The car door slammed shut more loudly than I’d intended. Now that the engine was off, the only other sounds were the wind softly trickling through the brown grass and the soles of my sneakers on the pavement.
For miles around me, there was only grassland, flat, empty. I turned, round and round, searching.
And saw nothing.
When you’re born, your reaper is far away. From that moment, it starts to move closer. Sometimes it’s slow, not even an inch over years. Sometimes you look up, and it’s standing face to face with you.
The things you do can affect how quickly it moves. My grandfather confessed that his reaper started moving faster the day he first smoked a cigarette. Drunks report getting behind the wheel of their cars only to see their reaper sitting beside them.
They say you never touch your reaper until the day you die.
My reaper disappeared about three weeks ago.
I’m not sure exactly when it happened. It isn’t close enough to always be in the same room with me, and it isn’t like I’m constantly checking to see how close it is.
But I usually do catch glimpses of it in the hallways of my office, lingering near the doorway while I wait in line at the coffee shop, watching as I get in my car in the morning. And one day, I just…didn’t.
It was gone.
It. When did I start calling it “It?” Not it, him. He. My reaper’s not an it. He.
Was it my parents or a teacher who first told me to stop calling him a him? Don’t personify it. Don’t give death that kind of power in your life. Your reaper is not a person. Your reaper does not have a gender. Your reaper does not have a name.
When did I start listening to them? When did I lose his name?
I spent the first few days in denial. I just wasn’t looking in the right places, I told myself. Just because I didn’t see it (him) didn’t mean it was gone.
But I didn’t see it (him him him) anywhere. Not in the grocery store parking lot, not in the stairs of my apartment building, not in the long dusty stacks of the library.
So I turned to the internet.
Reaper Disappeared
My reaper is gone
I can’t see my reaper
What does it mean if I can’t find my reaper
I found all sorts of articles and forums on reapers. People freaking out because their reaper was moving faster, people trying to figure out why their reaper was farther away, people arguing over what it meant if their reaper’s appearance changed.
No one claimed their reaper had suddenly just disappeared.
Reapers aren’t people.
My mother was firm.
Reapers don’t have names.
She told me over and over until I learned to stop talking about it.
Until I started to doubt what I had heard.
Reapers never talk.
But that didn’t mean I forgot.
There wasn’t anyone I could talk to. How would I even start? What did this even mean if he was gone?
Had I discovered the cure for death? Was I going to live forever?
Or was I simply going to have to walk through life not knowing when death would come for me?
One way or another, I had to be certain he was gone.
I got into my car and started driving.
I couldn’t see anything but brown grass and broken concrete.
Maybe if I could just see a little bit farther, I thought as I scrambled on top of my car. I perched on top of it uncertainly, scanning the horizon for any sign.
I started to scream.
Where are you and Why are you doing this and Please, I can’t take this and I don’t understand, please.
Please.
I don’t want to live forever.
I don’t want to watch everyone die.
I don’t want to be alone.
Please, don’t let me be alone.
I whimpered the last ones into my knees, curled up on the ground beside my car, then whispered the name I heard him say so many years ago.
“Isa, please.”
After a few minutes I calmed myself, swallowing deep breaths of air. I unfolded my body and went to stand up.
Isa was standing over me.
“Sorry about that,” he said as I recoiled, falling back against the car.
“You’re talking,” I stated dumbly.
“Well, yes. That shouldn’t come as a total surprise. We have spoken before.”
“You said one word to me when I was a kid,” I replied indignantly, fear turning to anger, “And my mom sent me to a child psychologist because I kept insisting you talked. And where have you been? Reapers aren’t just supposed to disappear!”
He shrugged. “There was something I had to take care of, sorry.” He smiled a bit ruefully. That was something else reapers weren’t supposed to do, and it must have shown in my face.
He crouched down beside me, ignoring how I flinched backwards.
“Look, there are some things we need to discuss.” He held out his hand, “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”
I stared at his hand. “Look, I know I don’t want to live forever and all, but…that doesn’t mean I want to die right now or anything.”
“You’re not going to die,” Isa said, mouth twitching upwards, “Not for a good while, not if I can help it. Most of what you think you know about us is wrong, okay?”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t be afraid of you?” I hedged.
He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. But you can trust me.”
“That’s…not very comforting,” I muttered. He waited, patiently, hand outstretched.
“Ah, what the hell,” I said, and I took Isa’s hand.
Once Upon A Time Genderbent
What I think about it: It’s not like they haven’t played with Genderbent before. Remember, in the Once Upon A Time Universe, Jack and the Beanstalk is a girl. And with the numerous lands they have, who’s to say there isn’t a flip flop land. It’d be pretty interesting.
Emmet Swan- Jensen Ackles
Kayleigh “Hook” Jones- Katie McGrath
Robert Mills/ Evil Queen- Tom Hiddeston
Holly Mills- Mackenzie Foy
Snow White/ Michael Mason Blanchard- Henry Cavil
Princess Charming/ Danielle Nolan- Jill Wagner
Rumplestiltskin/ Mrs. Gold- Julianne Moor
Beau- Ben Barnes
Zander/ Wicked Wizard of Oz- Damian Lewis
Robyn Hood- Natalie Portman
Baelfire/ Nelly Cassidy- Natalie Dormer
Red Lucas/ Red Riding Hood- Ian Somerhold
