she is so SILLY and i want to KISS HER A LOT. A LOT. a lot. a lot.

“When we loose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place.”

- C.S. Lewis

i've been thinking about this fic since i read it for the first time and i can't get it out of my head. it's just SO good and i feel like its really damn spot on characterization and i love the setup of it and i just needed to tell everyone about it because DAMN does it take up so much real estate in my brain so woe, wincest fic rec be upon ye

brother only wants by @hathfrozen

8! ♥

my beloved Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede! It's gotta be - like no question, it's gotta be a romcom-energy Dream POV.

Hob cuddles Dream for the first time and Dream just falls in LOVE. It's totally platonic. He fell in a lake or something. And he's no longer near-hypothermic, he's ass over tea kettle in love. On the outside: stony and stoic. On the inside: writing poems about Hob. Jacking off about Hob. Looking at everything from a particularly friendly yellow tea towel to trees in a park and being reminded of Hob. (Hob said he liked forests, once.)

There's mutual pining and they both think it's unrequited, for an appropriately light-hearted and brief amount of time. Hob expresses his feelings by doing little flirting things that send Dream absolutely around the bend. Buys him potted plants. Gets him books. Bakes for him. Touches his arm. Dream presumes Hob is this friendly with everyone, because Hob is a Very Good Person, and Very Good With People, unlike him. Hob literally cannot help himself. His love shines out of him. Dream thinks Hob just looks that way all the time.

At some point, someone - anyone, literally anyone with eyes - mentions 'your boyfriend' to Dream, and Dream is like, "What boyfriend? Who?" and Hob, who is also there, in earshot, is like, "Yeah, who?", baffled because surely he'd have noticed Dream having a boyfriend, they spend so much time together these days, but also 100% ready to fight the man for his crime of existing.

And someone - Matthew, Lucienne, literally even the deli guy, just shakes their head and offers a silent prayer to the God Of Himbos that the two idiots figure it out within the next decade.

(They do.)

read another Star Trek novel, experiencing indescribable emotions again

"looking for black metal recommendations" is my sleeper agent activation code i will enter a fugue state and when I emerge you will have the complete set of Now That's What I Call The Sound of a Trash Can Hornet Orgy With A Bunch of Reverb! vols. 1-33 on ur phone

uuuugh

Watching the presidents of Penn State and Harvard hang themselves publicly has been eye-opening.

the best part abt being enrolled in a calculus iii course is that it means i finally passed calculus ii. i have been enrolled in no less than FOUR different calculus ii courses, three of which failed to work out for various reasons, and literally NONE of this (calculus ii being a necessary course for me to take in college) would have happened had it not been for NUMEROUS FACTORS beyond my control but it's fine it's cool i'm learning NEW MATH for the FIRST TIME in FOUR YEARS and i am LIVING

i'm a complete dark urge propagandist btw it's the way to play a custom character imo

I pray that even in your darkest valleys and trials, you can still see the faithfulness of the Lord 💕

feeling righteous fury every time i think about people saying dankovsky is selfish or uncaring for trying to develop a vaccine because that means he doesn’t care for the people who are suffering. hey girl that’s not how fighting any disease works. he’s doing what’s suited to his strengths and is actually invaluable work for people who would otherwise get sick. what is anyone fucking talking about

Song of the Day: January 18

"Settle Down" by The 1975

I watched twilight on a flight yesterday and caught the man sitting next to me watching it on my screen so I turned on captions so he knew what was going on.

sun and summer wind by thedeathchamber

Louis and Oscar, Guatemala, archaeology, and (something like) dancing.

thinking about recipes that taste different in every home, differing with each hand that makes it. how there can be so many different foods all sharing the same name, even within a single culture.

except not in a wow-cultural-variations-are-beautiful-way, but more along the lines of how they can inspire pure, distilled disappointment (or rage) in ways few other things in life can.

the dish stays the same, the ingredients stay the same, the cooking method stays the same - so you hear of [dish] and are briefly filled with hope and longing. bonus points if you're living away from home and you haven't had a chance to eat said dish for months or years. and!! here it is!! you've diligently avoided eating said dish at random restaurants over here because you just know (usually from prior experience) that they'll absolutely ruin it, so you're better off abstaining. or maybe it's the kind of dish that ISN'T available at restaurants, and your only hope is plotting and making friends with the right people that have family visiting in the vague hope that they're the kind to delight in plonking food into hands of "these students living all alone and so far from home :(" (nvm the fact that you saw said friend having the TIME of her life all this time because she's finally in a city with better food outlets than her hometown) (yes, I am aware that this is getting suspiciously specific at this point, shush)

so anyway, the food. it paid off! you put in the legwork and suffered through the appropriate number of awkward conversations with friends' parents who REALLY don't know you as well as they like to pretend they do, gave the right number of fake totally-not-awkward smiles, and now!! they're INSISTENT you join them for lunch because they brought [dish] from back home! and fuck, it's been literal MONTHS since you've had this last, AND they're from broadly the same culture as you so really, surely you can trust them to mean it when they call what they've brought [dish]. your eyes gleam and you agree, because oh man it's been so long and you just know it's going to be so good and the anTICIPATION is-

and then you take one bite and question your life's choices and experience a moment of unadulterated bafflement and abject loss because this was the first time you've had [dish] outside of your home and you didn't realise people used the same name for ATROCITIES like the kind you're attempting to eat now. it looks wrong, smells wrong, and tastes dreadfully wrong. this isn't [dish]. this isn't just a disappointment after all the build-up and hope you had. this is an insult. this is an embodiment of the sheer disrespect they have for the dish.

you realise then that ah, turns out disappointment actually DOES have a very distinct taste, and you just got acquainted with it. you wonder how they managed to ruin it so spectacularly. how!!! why???? literally WHAT lengths did they have to go to in order to manage to make [dish] taste so alien???

anyway, that feeling. few emotions I've experienced in life were as potent as that welling up of abject horror and sorrow as I tasted the first long awaited morsel of a beloved dish made in a different style (an objectively WRONG style /lh)