YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver
Not today Justin
tannertan36
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.
Today's Document
noise dept.
ojovivo
No title available
if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
One Nice Bug Per Day
Game of Thrones Daily
Acquired Stardust
AnasAbdin
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Indonesia
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@luijeebes
This is the Lucky Ace. Reblog to recieve a wad of cash that is oddly specific to your current needs.
I reblogged this shit two days ago y’all… what kinda sorcery is this. Oddly specific too …. I’ll take it tho 🤯
I think I did it wrong
Uh I reblogged this like 3 days ago and I start my new job on Monday??? Like idk how you accidentally find a job but I did.
When Anne has a will, Anne hathaway.
I think we need to add her to the immortal list.
Confirmed. Likely a very modern one, due to her lack of period affectations. She’s just kicking this journey off and has plans for centuries.
Counterpoint, from @if-i-am-not-for-me, she was married to Shakespeare. She’s just pretty good at keeping up with things.
Further counterpoint,
She’s still married to Shakespeare
Performances start at 9pm EDT!
I’m watching The Sword in the Stone for the first time in decades and I’ve gotten to the part where Merlin is trying to get Arthur to lose his virginity to a squirrel.
Y’know, if Merlin turned that squirrel into a human it would save Camelot a significant amount of problems down the road.
“Squirrels mate for life Arthur, so the chances of her fucking your best friend and inadvertently causing a schism that leads to the downfall of an entire utopian kingdom are completely nil!”
Ok hopefully this is the last time I add onto this but Arthur marrying the squirrel would stop both of the events that destroyed Camelot - namely the aforementioned falling out with Lancelot AND the birth of Mordred. Being with him since youth, Squirrel would keep Arthur from being seduced by his half-sister Morgause (or Morgan Le Fay in the versions of the myth that cut Morgause out) when he was young and foolish, as he’d already be in a committed relationship and thus wouldn’t be able to be tricked into starting one with said half-sister. No incest means no Mordred. Then, as mentioned above, Squirrel would be a faithful wife, which means Guenevere would be single, which means Lancelot and Guenevere could pork each other without causing a huge row that ends with Lancelot killing dozens of his fellow knights of the round and inspiring several others to turn against Arthur out of loyalty to him.
Camelot would have been saved if Arthur just. Fucked. That. Squirrel.
You say all that but all I hear is “here is how Merlin trying to convince Arthur to become a furry could have saved the world”
Look this was a journey for me ok?
It started as “I can’t believe Disney made a movie where Merlin tries to get a squirrel to take Arthur’s virginity” and slowly became “I can’t believe Disney’s weird bestiality subplot actually solves the two biggest problems that cause Camelot’s downfall.”
Because as baffling as the squirrel fucking plotline is just on its own, the fact that it’d actually be solution to the eventual problems Arthur faces - whether anyone at Disney was actually thinking about that or not (and I’m guessing not) - is even more so. It is bizarre and unsettling to me that squirrel fucking could have saved Camelot, and that’s, uh, the point of this I guess.
I empathize completely
Reblog and search your favorite game and add the first gif that pops up
^ ajdjjakxmamx
The ending is the best lol
Fuck….. Fucking amazing
friendly reminder: “Dude Perfect” (i.e. these guys) is what “Bro Average” is referencing
*sips coffee* what a beautiful day to remember that asexuality is real and what the A in LGBTQA+ stands for and that they are not straight but a part of the LGBTQA+ community
What a beautiful day to remember that the people who create the “ace people are straight,” the “bi people are straight,” the “trans people are misogynist,” etc. propaganda are trying to tear the queer community apart to make us all easier to pick off so if you’ve fallen for it or spread it yourself, you’re enabling people who want to do harm.
Reblog if you are ASEXUAL, SUPPORT ASEXUALS, or really really want to WEAR A REALLY FANCY BLACK CAPE
The auxiliary water pump on my car broke (the plastic rotted and cracked so it was spewing coolant everywhere) and the mechanic wanted me to pay $300 for a $150 part.
I went to an auto store and bought the part for just under $150 and was gonna have the mechanic install it until I called them back and they said they don’t install customer parts.
So I figured if they won’t install customer parts, they’ll at least fix existing problems with the vehicle.
So, naturally I poorly installed the new part myself, then took it to the mechanic saying I had coolant issues and wasn’t sure what the problem was. They fixed the problem in under 20 minutes and only charged me $30 for the labor.
Ho l y
Imma try that last one
I went to my doctor’s office and asked if they had any slots open for that day. They told me they don’t take walk-ins, you have to call ahead for an appointment.
So I pulled out my phone and called the office. The other receptionist answered the phone and the first one literally WATCHED ME say “I’d like to make an appointment today if you have any slots available.”
He said to me (on the phone) all they had available was for 9:00, could I make it in time?
I said “Yep, I’m standing right here.”
He didn’t understand what I meant and happily put my appointment down.
I hung up and said to the original receptionist, “Hi, I have an appointment in five minutes.”
She (very angrily) entered me as arrived and gave me my forms.
I have never seen such an accurate depiction of what it looks like without glasses.
I fucking hate it when you’re in such a fantastically giddy mood and then you see one simple little thing that makes you think, “oh” and then you just get this empty feeling in your chest and you get nauseous and the world just crumbles and you want to just lay under a blanket and close your eyes and fall asleep and never wake up.
From what my therapist told me, this happens because our emotions aren’t really on the ‘opposite’ ends like we tend to think of it. Happiness is not ‘up’ and sadness is not ‘down’-. In a way they’re actually right ‘next’ to each other.
If you’re super happy, it can turn into super sad very easily, because your emotions are already highly elevated and it’s only a very minor shift as far as your brain is concerned.
Knowing this can help you fight it, and it can help you be more aware of what’s going on while you’re happy and help avoid shifting towards misery.
I used to always wonder why it seemed like my happy days ‘couldn’t last’ or that bad things would ‘always’ happen when I was happy. It’s not that happiness is doomed to fail, it’s that emotions are volatile. I hope that helps people who experience this too- when you understand what’s going on more it’s easier to manage.
“There is a copy of the NES game Golf in the firmware of every Switch system”
Me: Oh haha, what a weird thing, probably some remnant from the debugging process -
“Since that was a game that Satoru Iwata programmed himself, this could have been intended as a way of saying that Iwata is spiritually a part of every Switch and is watching over and protecting every system.”
Me:
Oh my God, so hackers have found out the way to enable you to play the game. You know how?
On July 11th*, the date of Iwata’s passing, doing Iwata’s “directly to you” motion with the Joy-Cons on the home screen will play a sound clip of Iwata and launch the game.
(* Before you try this yourself, note that simply changing the date on your system will not work, as this runs off the Switch’s internal internet-synced clock, meaning that changing the date manually will only work if the system has never been connected to the internet)
I… I can’t…
It goes even further than that.
Firstly, opening the game like this person is in the video is only possible with a brand new unit on system version 1.0.0 that has never been connected to the Internet. Because of this, opening it is pretty hard to replicate, unless if you have a completely brand new Switch. So, even if the system’s internal date is on July 11, it still won’t open if the system version is up to date.
The thing is, it’s not supposed to be opened.
The hidden Golf game has been described as an omamori, which, in Japanese culture, is a charm usually bought at shrines that offers spiritual protection and good luck if you keep it close to you. Sometimes they’re made of cloth, and look like a tiny bag, which can contain a written prayer. People often tie them to something like a purse or a backpack, so that it’s always with them. Here are a bunch of different ones:
Omamori are not supposed to be opened, as doing so is said to remove its blessing.
Seeing as the hidden Golf game on the Switch is so difficult to run under normal circumstances, it’s probably not supposed to be opened in the first place. It’s likely meant to represent an omamori in Iwata’s honor. Its very fitting, because of how portable the Switch is, since people are likely to take it with them like they would with an omamori strapped to a purse or backpack.
Hey, everyone. Since we’re now in July and this post is still making the rounds, I’m sure there are people who are going to want to try to activate the Golf game on their Switch on the 11th. So I wanted to provide an update to this:
All of the files of Golf in the Switch system were removed in an update back in late December.
As @lunarhalo24 helpfully pointed out, this inclusion of Golf in the Switch system was meant to be an omamori, a blessing from Iwata. And there’s another important cultural thing about omamori to note here:
An omamori’s blessing is only good until the end of the year, after which it expires and the omamori is traditionally disposed of in a sacred fire. So the files being deleted at the end of last year seems as though it was symbolic of the blessing’s time expiring.
So yes, there is now almost no way to actually access it. Because it was never meant to be accessed.
An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.
It isn’t uncommon for this particular demon to be summoned—from exhausting Halloween party pranks in abandoned barns to more legitimate (more exhausting) ceremonies in forests—but it has to admit, this is the first time it’s been called forth from its realm into a claustrophobic living room bathed in the dull orange-pink glow of old glass lamps and a multitude of wide-eyed, creepy antique porcelain dolls that could give Chucky a run for his money with all of their silent, seething stares combined. Accompanying those oddities are tea cup and saucer sets on shelves atop frilly doilies crocheted with the utmost care, and cross-stitched, colorful ‘Home Sweet Home’s hung across the wood-paneled walls.
It’s a mistake—a wrong number, per se. No witch it’s ever known has lived in such an, ah, dated, home. Furthermore, no practitioner that ever summoned it has been absent, as if they’d up and ding-dong ditched it. No, it didn’t work that way. Not at all. Not if they want to survive the encounter.
It hears the clinking of movement in the room adjacent—the kitchen, going by the pungent, bitter scent of cooled coffee and soggy, sweet sponge cakes, but more jarring is the smell of blood. It moves—feels something slip beneath its clawed foot as it does, and sees a crocheted blanket of whites and greys and deep black yarn, wound intricately, perfectly, into a summoning circle. Its summoning circle. There is a small splash of bright scarlet and sharp, jagged bits of a broken curio scattered on top, as if someone had dropped it, attempted to pick it up the pieces and pricked their finger. It would explain the blood. And it would explain the demon being brought into this strange place.
As it connects these pieces in its mind, the inhabitant of the house rounds the corner and exits the kitchen, holding a damp, white dish towel close to her hand and fumbling with the beaded bifocals hanging from her neck by a crocheted lanyard before stopping dead in her tracks.
Now, to be fair, the demon wouldn’t ordinarily second guess being face-to-face with a hunchbacked crone with a beaked nose, beady eyes and a peculiar lack of teeth, or a spidery shawl and ankle-length black dress, but there is definitely something amiss here. Especially when the old biddy lets her spectacles fall slack on her bosom and erupts into a wide, toothy (toothless) grin, eyes squinting and crinkling from the sheer effort of it.
“Todd! Todd, dear, I didn’t know you were visiting this year! You didn’t call, you didn’t write—but, oh, I’m so happy you’re here, dear! Would it have been too much to ask you to ring the doorbell? I almost had a heart attack. And don’t worry about the blood, here—I had an accident. My favorite figure toppled off of the table and cleanup didn’t go as expected. But I seem to recall you are quite into the bloodshed and ‘edgy’ stuff these days, so I don’t suppose you mind.” She releases a hearty, kind laugh, but it isn’t mocking, it’s sweet. Grandmotherly. The demon is by no means sentimental or maudlin, but the kindness, the familiarity, the genuine fondness, does pull a few dusty old nostalgic heartstrings. “Imagine if it leaves a scar! It’d be a bit ‘badass,’ as you teenagers say, wouldn’t it?”
She is as blind as a bat without her glasses, it would appear, because the demon is by no means a ‘Todd’ or a human at all, though humanoid, shrouded in sleek, black skin and hard spikes and sharp claws. But the demon humors her, if only because it had been caught off guard.
The old woman smiles still, before turning on her heel and shuffling into the hallway with a stiff gait revealing a poor hip. “Be a dear and make some more coffee, would you please? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Yes, this is most definitely a mistake. One for the record books, for certain. For late-night trips to bars and conversations with colleagues, while others discuss how many souls they’d swindled in exchange for peanuts, or how many first-borns they’d been pledged for things idiot humans could have gained without divine intervention. Ugh. Sometimes it all just became so pedantic that little detours like this were a blessing—happy accidents, as the humans would say.
That’s why the demon does as asked, and plods slowly into the kitchen, careful to duck low and avoid the top of the doorframe. That’s why it gingerly takes the small glass pot and empties it of old, stale coffee and carefully, so carefully, takes a measuring scoop between its claws and fills the machine with fresh grounds. It’s as the hot water is percolating that the old woman returns, her index finger wrapped tight in a series of beige bandages.
“I’m surprised you’re so tall, Todd! I haven’t seen you since you were at my hip! But your mother mails photos all the time—you do love wearing all black, don’t you?” She takes a seat at the small round table in the corner and taps the glass lid of the cake plate with quaking, unsteady, aged hands. “I was starting to think you’d never visit. Your father and I have had our disagreements, but…I am glad you’re here, dear. Would you like some cake?” Before the demon has a chance to decline, she lifts the lid and cuts a generous slice from the near-complete circle that has scarcely been touched. It smells of citrus and cream and is, as assumed earlier, soggy, oversaturated with icing.
It was made for a special occasion, for guests, but it doesn’t seem this old woman receives much company in this musty, stagnant house that smells like an antique garage that hadn’t had its dust stirred in years.
Especially not from her absentee grandson, Todd.
The demon waits until the coffee pot is full, and takes two small mugs from the counter, filling them until steam is frothing over the rims. Then, and only then, does it accept the cake and sit, with some difficulty, in a small chair at the small table. It warbles out a polite ‘thank you,’ but it doesn’t suppose the woman understands. Manners are manners regardless.
“Oh, dear, I can hardly understand. Your voice has gotten so deep, just like your grandfather’s was. That, and I do recall you have an affinity for that gravelly, screaming music. Did your voice get strained? It’s alright, dear, I’ll do the talking. You just rest up. The coffee will help soothe.”
The demon merely nods—some communication can be understood without fail—and drinks the coffee and eats the cake with a too-small fork. It’s ordinary, mushy, but delicious because of the intent behind it and the love that must have gone into its creation.
“I hope you enjoyed all of the presents I sent you. You never write back—but I am aware most people use that fancy E-mail these days. I just can’t wrap my head around it. I do wish your mom and dad would visit sometime. I know of a wonderful little café down the street we can go to. I haven’t been; I wanted to visit it with Charles, before he…well.” She falls silent in her rambling, staring into her coffee with a small, melancholy smile. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years. You never had the chance to meet him. But never mind that.” Suddenly, and with surprising speed that has the demon concerned for her well being, she moves to her feet, bracing her hands on the edge of the table. “I may as well give you your birthday present, since you’re here. What timing! I only finished it this morning. I’ll be right back.”
When she returns, the white, grey and black crocheted work with the summoning circle is bundled in her arms.
“I found these designs in an occult book I borrowed from the library. I thought you’d like them on a nice, warm blanket to fight off the winter chill—I hope you do like it.” With gentle hands, she spreads the blanket over the demon’s broad, spiky back like a shawl, smoothing it over craggy shoulders and patting its arms affectionately. “Happy birthday, Todd, dear.”
Well, that settles it. Whoever, wherever, Todd is, he’s clearly missing out. The demon will just have to be her grandson from now on.
this is so sweet. it made me want to hug someone.
i had to
I WOULD WATCH SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE
Okay but she takes him to the little cafe and all of the people in her town are like “What is that thing, what the hell, Anette?” and she’s like “Don’t you remember my grandson Todd?” and the entire town just has to play along because no one will tell little old Nettie that her grandson is an actual demon because this is the happiest she’s been since her husband died.
Bonus: In season 4 she makes him run for mayor and he wins
I just want to watch ‘Todd’ help her with groceries, and help her with cooking, and help her clean up the dust around the house and air it out, and fill it with spring flowers because Anette mentioned she loved hyacinth and daffodils. Over the seasons her eyesight worsens, so ‘Todd’ brings a hellhound into the house to act as her seeing eye dog, and people in town are kinda terrified of this massive black brute with fur that drips like thick oil, and a mouth that can open all the way back to its chest, but ‘Honey’ likes her hard candies, and doesn’t get oil on the carpet, and when ‘Todd’ has to go back to Hell for errands, Honey will snuggle up to Anette and rest his giant head on her lap, and whuff at her pockets for butterscotch. Anette never gives ‘Todd’ her soul, but she gives him her heart
In season six, Anette gets sick. She spends most of the season bedridden and it becomes obvious by about midway through the season that she’s not going to make it to the end of the season. Todd spends the season travelling back and forth between the human realm and his home plane, trying hard to find something, anything that will help Anette get better, to prolong her life. He’s tried getting her to sell him her soul, but she’s just laughed, told him that he shouldn’t talk like that. With only a few episodes left in the season Anette passes away, Todd is by her side. When the reaper comes for her Todd asks about the fate of her soul. In a dispassionate voice the reaper informs Todd that Anette spent the last few years of her life cavorting with creatures of darkness, that there can be only one fate for her. Todd refuses to accept this and he fights the reaper, eventually injuring the creature and driving it off. Knowing that Anette cannot stay in the Human Realm, and refusing to allow her spirit to be taken by another reaper, so he takes her soul in his arms. He’s done this before, when mortals have sold themselves to him. This time the soul cradled against his chest does not snuggle and fight. This time the soul held tight against him reaches out, pats him on the cheek tells him he was a good boy, and so handsome, just like his grandfather. Todd takes Anette back to the demon realm, holding her tight against him as he travels across the bleak and forebidding landscape; such a sharp contrast to the rosy warmth of Anette’s home. Eventually, in a far corner of his home plane, Todd finds what he is looking for. It is a place where other demons do not tread; a large boulder cracked and broken, with a gap just barely large enough for Todd to fit through. This crack, of all things, gives him pause, but Anette’s soul makes a comment about needing to get home in time to feed Honey, and Todd forces himself to pass through it. He travels in darkness for a while, before he emerges into into a light so bright that it’s blinding. His eyes adjust slowly, and he finds himself face to face with two creatures, each of them at least twice his size one of them has six wings and the head of a lion, one of them is an amorphous creature within several rings. The lion-headed one snarls at Todd, and demands that he turn back, that he has no business here. Todd looks down, holding Anette’s soul against his chest, he takes a deep breath, and speaks a single word, “Please.” The two larger beings are taken aback by this. They are too used to Todd’s kind being belligerent, they consult with each other, they argue. The amorphous one seems to want to be lenient, the lion-headed one insists on being stricter. While they’re arguing Todd sneaks by them and runs as fast as he can, deeper into the brightly lit expanse. The path on which he travels begins to slope upwards, and eventually becomes a staircase. It becomes evident that each step further up the stair is more and more difficult for Todd, that it’s physically paining him to climb these stairs, but he keeps going.
They dedicate a full episode to this climb; interspersing the climb with scenes they weren’t able to show in previous seasons, Anette and Honey coming to visit Todd in the Mayor’s office, Anette and Todd playing bingo together for the first time, Anette and Todd watching their stories together in the mid afternoon, Anette falling asleep in her chair and Todd gently carrying her to bed. Anette making Todd lemonade in the summer while he’s up on the roof fixing that leak and cleaning out the rain gutters. Eventually Todd reaches the top, and all but collapses, he falls to a knee and for the first time his grip on Anette’s soul slips, and she falls away from him. Landing on the ground. He reaches out for her, but someone gets there first. Another hand reaches out, and helps this elderly woman off the ground, helps her get to her feet. Anette gasps, it’s Charles. The pair of them throw their arms around each other. Anette tells Charles that she’s missed him so much, and she has so much to tell him. Charles nods. Todd watches a soft smile on his face. A delicate hand touches Todd’s shoulder, and pulls him easily to his feet. A figure; we never see exactly what it looks like, leans down, whispering in Todd’s ear that he’s done well, and that Anette will be well taken care of here. That she will spend an eternity with her loved ones. Todd looks back over to her, she’s surrounded by a sea of people. Todd nods, and smiles. The figure behind him tells him that while he has done good in bringing Anette here, this is not his place, and he must leave. Todd nods, he knew this would be the case. Todd gets about six steps down the stairway before he is stopped by someone grabbing his shoulder again. He turns around, and Anette is standing behind him. She gives him a big hug and leads him back up the stairs, he should stay, she says. Get to know the family. Todd tries to tell her that he can’t stay, but she won’t hear it. She leads him up into the crowd of people and begins introducing him to long dead relatives of hers, all of whom give him skeptical looks when she introduces him as her grandson. The mysterious figure appears next to Todd again and tells him once more he must leave, Todd opens his mouth to answer but Anette cuts him off. Nonsense, she tells the figure. IF she’s gonna stay here forever her grandson will be welcome to visit her. She and the figure stare at each other for a moment. The figure eventually sighs and looks away, the figure asks Todd if she’s always like this. Todd just shrugs and smiles, allowing Anette to lead him through a pair of pearly gates, she’s already talking about how much cake they’ll need to feed all of these relatives.
P.S. Honey is a Good Dog and gets to go, too.
the last lines of the show:
demon: you’re not blind here – but you’re not surprised. when…?
anette: oh, toddy, don’t be silly, my biological grandson’s not twelve feet tall and doesn’t scorch the furniture when he sneezes. i’ve known for ages.
demon: then why?
anette: you wouldn’t have stayed if you weren’t lonely too.
demon: you… you don’t have to keep calling me your grandson.
anette: nonsense! adopted children are just as real. now quit sniffling, you silly boy, and let’s go bake a cake. honey, heel!
honey: W̝̽̂̿͂͝Ọ̮̹̲̪̋ͦͅO̸̘͔̬͊F̜̫͙̟͕͖̙̋ͫ͌͗
that addition is a+ :)
THE ONLY ENDING I WILL EVER ACCEPT FOR THIS
Every time this post shows up on my dash, it gets better (and more heart wrenching. Y’all! Stop cutting the onions okay?!).
If ever don’t reblogging this, I’m either dead, dying, or buried under cat.
This is why I love Tumblr so much! Thank you all for collaborating on this prompt and turning it into something beautiful <3
Check out our story tag for more stories
i hate when people write out jessie and james’ wedding because it’s never in character. like ok. first of all, james would not be in a fucking tux. james would be in a dress, and jessie would get PISSED that his dress is nicer than hers, and it would be this fucking clusterfuck of them dress shopping and trying to find the perfect dress chemistry where they both look flawless and james is only a notch below jessie in excellence because duh she has to be the star.
their vows would be a variation of the motto, absolutely no question
meowth would be so happy that he accidentally starts evolving and jessie and james break their fucking kiss to B-button him like BUDDY, BUDDY, GROUND YOURSELF CMON YOU DONT WANT THAT before hes like SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK
giovanni would show up at the wedding and shake their hands. “good evening james. you’re fired.” “yes, i know, boss.” “well, enjoy the rest of your night.”
meowth and wobbuffet would drink WAY too much at the reception, obviously the best man and maid of honor, meowth would drunkenly break into tears while he’s giving his speech about how ‘jimmy’s da best, i really owe my life ta that goiy!’ wobbuffet also crying, agreeing with everything he says, so nansu so nansu so nansu.
how do people fuck up the rocket wedding when it’s the easiest thing to imagine
ash and every fucking twerp shows up to it, completely in disbelief but feeling an obligation. every single fucking one of them gifts the trio a different pikachu plushie or other pikachu merch. eventually they have a kid and she runs around in a pikachu onesie that misty bought for jessie years ago.
There was a brief but intense period in my misspent youth in which I read a lot of Pokemon fanfiction, and it was always so weird to me that there was a lot of Manly Man James and Delicate Flower Jessie having Serious Romance Novel Adventures with Traditional Gender Roles. This is much better.
“To protect our hearts from devastation To unite our lives with this celebration To recite long vows about truth and love To fling confetti to the stars above
Team Rocket, get married at the speed of light! Leave presents and cash on the table to the right.”
“Me - me - meow - WAAAAAAAHI’MSOHAPPYFORYOUSEGUYS”
Hi. This is the Best thing I’ve ever read.
New D&D campaign, make a male human gentleman gunslinger, accidentally create Zorro without meaning to
