all but over

anonymous asked:

So what would happen you think if Link met Sora?

instant bros. ˢᵒʳᵃ'ˢ ⁿᶦᶜᵏⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᶦˢ “ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ⁻ᵇᵒˢˢ⁻ᵏᵉʸ”

“I worked on #Gotham today. The 🐧 demanded I wear my hair like this and I was too afraid to argue. #Batman”

So, my initial reaction to this was total excitement since it’s easy to assume, in correlation with all these new pictures of the Iceberg Lounge set, the character most likely works for Oswald at the new lounge. (Which I’m beyond excited for, can’t you tell?) But then I did my thing and started over-analyzing the fact the actor mentioned the hair and all. Cue season one Edward Nygma rocking a hairdo with a striking resemblance:

And yes, I’m highly aware that this hairstyle era didn’t coexist with any Ed and Os scenes. However, you all know Gotham’s obnoxious fetish with parallels so I’m bound to believe it holds some significance.

In addition to all that, @leiastarkiller66 also pointed out how the two men have a similar body type/build and even sport similar clothing. Be sure to check out her original post with the comparison pictures and all! ♡

My guess is this is the writers’ way of telling us Oswald will always, subconsciously or not, want Edward to be a part of his life. Even if it means hiring a bunch of doppelgängers to parade around his lounge. I’m just surprised Oswald didn’t attempt to slap a pair of glasses on that poor man.

When I die I want Marlene king to lower me into my casket so she can let me down one last time


Aliya Mustafina Successful Acro Series

Protect Park Jaejung this precious!

NCT’s no.1 fanboy. Adept with NCT’s unit system and can fluently explain it. Trash since 7th sense era. Really appreciates NCT’s music and aesthetics. Got super hyped when he finally got his Firetruck album. Jams to NCT in his car. Super SOFT for Mark, the ultimate Mark stan (he has a fuckin list of things he wants to do with mark and he gave him flowers and that first meeting looks like a proper date). A certified NCTzen!

Fox Mulder’s Guide to Falling (and Staying) in Love with Your Partner

For author’s note and story description, see the first chapter!

In case you need to catch up:
(1) (2)


It’s the little things, he’s decided, that he likes most about her.

It’s the way the she greeted him this morning when he picked her up for their drive to check out a case in Connecticut, coffee in hand. She knows exactly how he takes it, how much room to leave and, subsequently, how much milk to add. The temperature he prefers. And as she slid into the car, handing over a travel mug, one that resides in her apartment specifically for him, a gratifying smile accompanied her.

Her smile is contagious, he has no doubt about it. The way her plump pink lips curl slightly at the corners. And when, on the rare occasions, he catches a glimpse of her teeth, stark white in contrast to the color they hide behind, he loses cognitive function. He melts. She doesn’t smile enough, which, in retrospect, is better for his sanity. But lately, she has been smiling more. He hopes, selfishly, that she smiles for no reason other than she simply likes this journey that they’re on, whatever it may be. That they simply spend time together.

It’s the face she makes when she’s reading a map, absorbed. Her posture is perfectly square in the passenger seat. So much concentration etched in the subtle wrinkles that fall above her brow. The tip of her tongue grazing the expanse of her lips. Her delicate fingers, fingers that pull triggers and make Y-incisions and fold over each other in prayer and occasionally tangle with his, tracing the lines of the highways as she follows the pattern of their route.

It’s the way she fidgets with the cross around her neck. Especially when she’s hunched over files that are spread on a motel bed. It’s as if she uses her cross to help her focus, to recenter her thoughts. She touches her cross, and he thinks she comes back to reality. And he likes that her faith wavers at times; it makes her more human.

It’s the rhythm they fall into as soon as they take their places in the car. She had complained recently about not getting to drive more often, and he, regrettably, made a comment at the expense of her height. But if he’s being honest, he likes when he drives and she rides next to him. There’s something about their ability to navigate like this. It’s familiar, like they’ve been doing it their whole lives.

It’s the way she says his name. “Mulder.” He’s heard it thousands of times, but never quite like how she says it. It’s why she’s the only one who calls him “Mulder” on a regular basis. He had told her that everyone called him Mulder, but truthfully, he was fine with “Fox.” Until he met her. Until she said “Agent Mulder” and eventually just “Mulder” enough that his name coming from her lips was like a breath of fresh air. A whisper of a prayer into the wind. It’s significance meant only for him. She says his name, and he feels whole.

And her mind. Oh, her mind deserves its own category of likeness. The way she spits paragraphs of medical jargon at him. The way she challenges and attempts to invalidate his theories with her sophisticated vocabulary. Sometimes he thinks he can actually see the logic of her brain, the wheels turning, the path it takes to substantiate her conclusions. Her mind is intoxicating. And he wants to know every inch of it.

He wonders what keeps her here, in this car right beside him. If it’s the same thing that’s keeping him here. For him, it’s more that just a quest for a missing sister, the proof of an alien civilization. It is something that he never expected. Since her, it is now more than the need for unrelenting justice and virtue, authentication of a government conspiracy. No, most importantly, their journey has become about finding themselves through finding each other.

He also wonders if his fondness of her is obvious. He knows that he doesn’t tell her enough, if at all, just how much he appreciates having her in his life. How their partnership, friendship, whatever it is, has given him new meaning. He thinks of the lives they’ve lost, the amount of times they’ve almost lost each other.

Just recently, he turned a gun so quickly on himself, yet held back with everything he had to protect her. He saw how shaken she was, by the ease of which he didn’t hesitate pulling the trigger on himself, the precision of which he had placed the gun at his temple, ensuring that had there been a bullet in that chamber, there would be no chance for survival. The single tear that escaped her lid, her anguished plea for him to fight the mind control. It was if something inside him clicked. The potential that he could mean as much to her as she does to him. And later, he knew by the desperate grasp of her hand in his at the bedside of their latest demon that he had miscalculated how much the notion of his death could affect her.

He’s done everything in his power to make sure she doesn’t know the depths of his feelings for her. He wonders if she can see right through him anyway.

He takes a mental picture of her as they cross over into New York, more than halfway through their drive, surrounded by the waters below the George Washington Bridge. He could see her in New York, the hustle and bustle of big-city life, constantly encompassed by civilization. A life she would thrive in, and one where he would suffocate. But he doesn’t really want her to be here, if it means he won’t be able to see her every day.

He loves her, of that he knows for certain. But he will never voice it. He vows to never let that love become lust, to never be in love with her. Because having only just a part of her is better than having none of her.

So he lets the tires of the car continue to spin, and he dreads the moment they have to stop.

Guys, it’s been a radical day. I’m gonna go to bed because I reallyreaalyREALLY wanted to post the last chapter today so I was drawing until 2am last night and set my alarm for 6am to upload and do the final touches, but thank you for all the love!!! I’ll write more on this tomorrow. Night! <3

so this is my room, and that’s chad r’s room, and that’s chad g’s room but don’t look out his window unless you want to see hockey players making out on their roof across the street, and that’s chad h’s room, and-
—  direct quote from the annual house tour that the lax bro’s give their rookies

its so upsetting how the machine, root, and shaw have so much admiration for harold when he couldnt care less about them. He Doesn’t Deserve Them

anonymous asked:

If Noctis wasn't royalty, would you give him a second glance?

*skids back into Tumblr proper after avoiding my feed for almost two days because spoilers* K BACK AFTER BEATING EPISODE PROMPTO SO WHAT’S THE QUESTION AGAIN?

Would I take a look at Noctis if…


I don’t care that he’s royalty tho. I don’t want to be queen. I just want his D.

Cause he’s fucking hot. And needs to be doing me. With Ignis. And Gladio. And Prompto.

Wish me luck, I have to go on stage today…