Happy halloween! Stay safe out there!!

real boyfriends poison each other and prank each other and annoy each other all the time btw

Brain rot: Beauty and the beast snirius au

Snape is the beast but at the end he is just as ugly just not beastly

how did you and scotty meet? lovely couple btw💙

omg cute story actually! so she's bffs with my cousin dean and one day i was just chilling at his place and he was like oh my friend is coming over and i ain't really care. but when she came over and i saw her i was like omggg she's so cute! i was talking to her and flirting HEAVY but she was being all shy and shit, blushing every 5 seconds which i thought was cute (i usually go for the meanies but there was just sumn different bout shawty ion know)

few days later dean told me she thought i was cute and she wanted to ask me out but was too nervous and i was like nah, if she want me she gotta talk to me herself. it took her a minute, but she did. she was like "i think you're really pretty, i can't stop thinking about you, and i'd like to take you out" (stuttering DOWN btw damn near bout to bust out in tears) but again i thought it was kinda endearing. obviously i said yes. like it wasn't no type of hesitation.

she even asked dean for my favorite flowers, and she brought them when she came to pick me up the next weekend for our first date like ooh it was too cute. baby was hella nervous, but obviously it went well cause we're living together now and couldn't be happier 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

Every touch is like........... sooo gay.....

Sir Mordred finally managed to pinpoint the whereabouts of the escaped demon beasts. Immediately, he set off, swiping the keys to his motorcycle off the desk. There was no time to waste, he couldn't let those rouge demons leave his territory. He had to sedate them and bring them back safely. They were valuable subjects, afterall. As he travelled deeper into the rocky plains, he noticed a sudden change in the air. The astral could sense bloodlust, extreme bloodlust. A sweet, metallic pungent scent hit his senses. The smell was strong, just enough to put him on edge. This was definitely blood, there was no doubt. Mordred stopped and parked his bike, opting to go by foot instead. The knight carefully walked forward, observing his surroundings as he approached closer to his destination. He was met with corpses, many corpses. They only grew more in quantity as he went on. The cadavers of the small beasts were left mutilated beyond recognition, the only thing left fully intact and uninjured were their numbered tags. The bigger ones kept their bodies, however, all of them were missing their heads. This disturbed Mordred immensely. What sort of demon beast could've done such a thing? Unless, it wasn't a demon beast, but rather……a person? He stretched his arms and materialised armored gloves on both hands, preparing for battle. It wasn't long until he found the one responsible for the massacre of his beasts. Mordred looked up at a mountain of headless corpses and the culprit sitting right there at the top. There they were, slightly slumped down as both hands gripped a large greatsword. Slowly, their eyes opened and gazed down at the knight.

"Greetings, I am Sir Mordred. From the work you've done, I can only assume you're "The Beheader" of the sky astrals. May I know your name, Sky warrior?"

"That IS my name."

"Oh, well. Beheader, these demon beasts you've slaughtered all originally belonged to me. Not to mention that you've trespassed upon my territory."

"You….you're telling me that you raise these vile demons? And that THIS is your territory?"

"Well, at its borders, but-"

The Beheader furiously stood up and raised his voice at the knight. Pointing the tip of his greatsword directly between Mordred's eyes from above. He snarls back and unsheathes his claws in response to the threat.

"There is a village nearby that could've been overrun by these evil creatures! I only did what was right. I have no fault here!"

"Your morals do not have any say in the law here, cloud dweller. You've destroyed very valuable research. But how would you know the importance of scientific work down here? Go back to your palace and I'll forgive your little blunder today."

The sky warrior's eyes widened, bloody veins forming webs on the light blue sclera. Through clenched teeth, he took in a short, sharp breath and roared in immense anger at Mordred.

"ARROGANT FOOL! I WILL CRUSH YOU INTO STARDUST!"

"Let's see what you can do with that slab of metal you call a greatsword!"

-Present-

"And that's how we met, Uther."

"H-HOW ARE YOU TWO MARRIED?!"

Poetic moments, of reaching out to my beautiful big doggo...and they reached back, gently pushing their face into my palm...

local ladies man’s signature move totally useless against autistic monster enthusiast. more on Kabru’s fumble era at 6

whatever I'll post my addendum to it anyway

DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.

SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

So usually when an imaginary friend is a real thing in a story, it’s either a demon or a ghost or some supernatural boogeyman that probably wants to eat the kid they’ve befriended (Mama, a couple of the Paranormal Activity movies), or “imaginary friends” are just treated as a real thing in the setting, and if a child just thinks hard enough they can manifest a friend into existence (Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Happy).

And somewhere in the middle is an area where the imaginary friend in question is real and they are supernatural, but they aren’t malevolent, and they aren’t entirely honest about what they are. Like maybe they’re a fairy or a god or some kind of boggle from mythology, but they just got caught by a six year old and they don’t have time to get into it, so they just go “…Yes. I’m your imaginary friend. We haven’t met. How do you do.” And then they stick around because they do love this kid, and if you’re a boggle from mythology in the modern day good food is really hard to come by.

And at some level. That’s what I think Hobbes is.

My Mane 6 Redesigns all together! I was going to post them separately but ended up finishing them all before I got around to it lol

My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.

This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.

After a while my bf yelled from inside, "Okay, you ready for dinner?" and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.

My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we've been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.

He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What's wrong, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, frantic. "What is it?"

I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.

He was growing more panicked. "What is it? Why are you crying?"

I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out "Grimace"

Confused silence followed.

"....Grimace?"

I nodded.

"...The McDonalds guy...thing?"

I nodded.

"What...what did...Grimace...do to you?"

I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy--this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy--kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he's a corporate mascot who isn't real)

This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.

I didn't even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, "Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!"

Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn't still asleep, I opened the TikTok.

An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn't real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.

License to Kitty.

Unstoppable villain, meet immovable agent of friendship!

I was wondering in what circumstances Charlie would just OFFER her soul to Al.

And he would short circuit as all his manipulation plans become unnecessary.

Cause Charlie cares about her friends and if they need help she won’t hesitate.