Revolution In Coco

Friendly reminder that Héctor has been dead much longer than he was alive, he was only 21 thats literally around one 5th of his existence since then he has been a skeleton. What if he doesn’t really remember being alive, sure he has his memories of events, he remembers the people in his life but specifically what a living body felt like? Not so much. 

One of the twins mentions missing his nose, Héctor shrugs as he touches his fingers to his nasual bone, it’s been so long it feels like he just always never had one.

Rosita watches as he helps her cook one day, accidently spliling a boiling pot of water down himself, she smiles and points out a least he hasn’t got skin that can burn. He can’t really remember what it felt like to be burnt. 

Imelda holds his hands in hers, stroking his fingers and comments on how smooth the bones feel compared to his calloused fingertips from years of playing the guitar, he comments on how good her memory is because he had forgotten that before distracting her with kisses. 

How to Greet a New Pal

(Part 10)

First

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 11 Welcome to Underfell… UF Dogaressa is my new fav. I also learned that the face shape everyone gives Grillby is a lie. His head is round in the game. I’ve been lied to for years.

DO NOT POST THIS INSTAGRAM, OR ANYWHERE ELSE! YOU DO NOT EVER HAVE PERMISSION!

Dubbing must ask permission, specifically if you monetize.

Cacophony | An Overwatch Story

Summary: A single note topples down the stave, and the symphony descends into a cacophony. When the theories are correct, gravity is a harness. But one note out of place turns the harness into a cage. Dr Siebren de Kuiper is no stranger to cages, but he never though his life’s work would turn against him so.

—✧—

“I’m starting to consider you something of a hypocrite, Dr De Kuiper.”

With a sharp inhalation and a painful jolting of his back, Siebren lurched up from where he had evidently fallen asleep at his desk. His face twisted as he stretched out the stiffness in his spine from having been hunched over, bones popping and reminding him that he really wasn’t of the age to be sleeping in his lab anymore.

A lithe hand quite unlike his own reached out to peel a stray document that had stuck to Siebren’s cheek — his rather poor excuse of a pillow for the previous night. “How many nights have you chased me from my research to go and sleep, yet here you are. Drooling into,” his research partner glanced at the paper she had removed from Siebren’s face, “…my research paper.”

“Hmm, then the blame lies in your writing, Dr O’Deorain,” the man offered by means of rebuttal. “I did not mean to fall asleep in the lab. Your research paper sent me to sleep, no?”

Moira O’Deorain was not a scientist who accepted constructive criticism. Siebren had been told this years ago when the 25-year old brilliance had applied to the role of research partner he had posted out into the scientific community. Apparently, this included criticism in jest.

A single eyebrow arched. Despite having worked together for three years now, Moira had not warmed much to Siebren’s humour. She often told him she did not laugh simply because “you’re not funny, Siebren, you’re rude.”

“I could hardly expect an astrophysicist to appreciate the finer details of science a little closer to home,” Moira noted curtly. “Not all brilliance and beauty must be found in the stars, Siebren. There’s universal wonder to be found right within the human body too; a whole universe of potential.”

“I hope that there is,” Siebren smiled, trying to smooth over the jagged edges of Moira’s frayed patience. He shoved his feet back into his shoes, having kicked them off the moment he had sat down to work the night before; a habit of his whenever he was working that often irked Moira as well. The man then got to his feet, stretching out the last of the restless and uncomfortable sleep he had subjected himself to. “Or I will have wasted your time bringing you here.”

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I cannot properly express my love for the fact that Rincewind is a wizard not because he does magic or is particularly intelligent, which he doesn’t and isn’t, but because that’s who he knows he is, it’s an integral part of himself despite his not fitting any wizardly criteria other than wearing a hat with WIZZARD written on it, and all the other wizards think this is fair and don’t question it.

J & I (mostly J) put together our Ultimate magnus & pickles playlist !!

please check below the cut for songs, links & lyrics (and try to guess who put in which song haha)

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I still have thoughts about this, so to continue in something of the same vein as last night…

The thing about Rincewind is, he’s not really a character who ever becomes a hero.

I know we can argue all night about the definition of the word hero, but he doesn’t consider himself one, and other characters don’t consider him one, so there’s that. But what I really mean is that he doesn’t have a hero’s journey.

I sometimes see people talking about the Rincewind books in the context of facing your fears. That’s fantastic; whatever you get out of it is good, of course, that’s what fiction is for.

But Rincewind himself doesn’t get brave. He doesn’t really learn to face his fears. He doesn’t slowly grow into someone who thinks of it as his solemn duty to save the world. He is always and foremost a cowards. The entire span of the books, this is true.

Mostly he just gets more resigned to how the world works. In The Last Hero he has a genre-savvy knowledge of how things are going to end up, so he volunteers; but it’s not out of bravery, it’s out of weariness. He knows how his life works so he just skips all the fuss and gets on with doing something he still, really, does not want to do.

He doesn’t get what most of what he wants. He doesn’t learn to use magic. He doesn’t develop any extraordinary skills. He doesn’t get a love interest, which is fiction’s common recourse when rewarding a hero (a device which bothers me immensely, so personally I’m glad of that). His major reward after the conclusion of his independent story arc is, essentially, a semi-peaceful retirement from adventure.

Rincewind is a mess. He is a coward, and he will admit that freely. When he does save the world, it’s because no one else is going to do it, and someone has to, and he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t get rewarded, except possibly by continued living. He doesn’t learn to be brave, except in the desperate last-chance way he’s always been. He doesn’t learn to be good at what he loves.

That’s important. That’s very important. That’s what makes him stand out. Because - where do you go, when you’re too tired to be a hero, when you’re exhausted from people telling you to be brave and stick it out, when you’ve been trying so hard and you still can’t do well? When heroes only remind you of how inadequate you are, how much you can’t be them? When you don’t, especially, want to be inspired, because you are just trying to get by. Who do you turn to then?

That’s Rincewind. You may be down in the mud and unable to pull yourself out, but at least he’s down there with you, sighing and talking about how this always happens to him. And it’s okay. It may or may not get better, but you’ll be okay, for a given value of ‘okay’. You’ll survive. That’s an achievement

That’s what he means to me.

Not a romantic job at all

on catholicism and severus & tobias snape

if you’re going to expect a very well-thought out essay about this, please let me stop you right there. it likely won’t be :)) but this was prompted by comments of people on my hc of catholic!snape and a (long) conversation with @dementedlollipop on discord that just spurred so many Thoughts.

going under a cut coz i don’t know how long this will be.

Keep reading

Costume. Chitons.

The most striking thing about Papyrus (aside from his limitless positivity) is the fact that it is literally impossible to die in a fight against him. Even Toriel, who starts purposefully missing you once your health gets low enough, can accidentally kill you, but Papyrus? It is literally impossible. Papyrus has incredible control over his power! Wow, what a great and impressive skeleton. And, even though he could probably deal some legit damage to you on the murder run, his only action is to spare you, because he’s heckin worried about this little emotionless murder child.

A lot of people like swap aus where Sans is the one that dies and Papyrus is forced to shed his naivete and face you going all-out, which makes sense, but also, Papyrus is just so. Papyrus. I feel like if Papyrus had to be the final murder-run boss, it’d be more like, “After losing Sans, the world seems like a different place. I can’t imagine what you must’ve gone through for you to see the world the way you do.”

He only has one attack, but it’s a really long one and powerful one (kind of like Sans’ before his ‘special attack’), plus he talks during it, which would be pretty distracting. whenever he gets your hp down to 1, combat automatically stops and you’re ejected back into the judgement room. if you try to talk to him without healing, he’ll just say you’re too hurt - a gust of wind could knock you over! after you heal at the conveniently placed save point and go back to fight him, he has stuff to say about how you don’t have to be alone, you don’t have to do this, you might think there isn’t any good in you and it’s too late to change, but there is and it isn’t! After a few of those, he’ll talk about Undyne and Sans, and they always tried to help him, even when they thought he wouldn’t notice. He’s got a ton of stories about that. After he says his piece there’s an option to either fight or don’t fight, and every time you pick fight he looks disappointed, but he goes all out. He’s always able to be spared.

if you survive his attack, he goes down in one hit. his last words would probably be an apology, even though he tried really hard he still couldn’t show you a better path