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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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tannertan36
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
DEAR READER
RMH
@theartofmadeline
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Peter Solarz
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@missangelwingz
HOLY SHIT, IT WAS THE ORIGINAL ONE
MAKE A WISH
the first post ever on tumblr
I WAS EXPECTING IT TO BE A REMAKE OF SOME SORT HOLY FUCK
WHO THE FUCK KEEPS BRINGING THIS BACK
reblog this because it shows up every blue moon
I FOUND IT ✊
I WAS SO SCARED IT WOULDNT BE THE ORIGINAL
Who first posted this?
And on the 7th day God created this post
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
the best written characters of all time :
remember that everyone in atla is POC!
Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989)
Honestly using Hades as the villain for every greek mythology story because he happens to rule over the afterlife would be like if 3000 years from now they made a bunch of Justice League movies where Batman was the villain because he has the darkest costume
There was also the thing where he imprisoned a goddess against her will because he was lonely. Hades is the bad guy.
Ok but it’s not like the other greek gods had the moral high ground on that, there’s no reason why Abduction McLonesome is more fit to be the villain than, say, his brother Zeus who kept transforming into stuff and forcing himself on women, or Kronos who kept eating his own children
Y'all creepy motherfuckers who tracked down the author of My Immortal down had better at least buy her books. Y'all owe her that much after hunting her down as if her life is a game to you.
here’s a link to a site where you can purchase her books.
Important side note she left on the Amazon page
And please, don’t forget to sign the petition at lakotalaw.org! State-run foster care/adoption agencies kidnap 700+ Native American children from their families every year and let strangers adopt them–all for the money. Almost none of these children are being taken out of legitimately harmful homes. (Read: Removal was warranted in less than 3% of the cases.) Trust me, I only wish I were making this up. Native families have been fighting for the return of their children for years now, but if you add your voice to the outcry, the government can’t ignore us forever.
“Your dad’s Indian. Your mom’s black. Why are you white?” Skylar St. Clair’s been getting questions like these all his life. Skylar’s home is the Nettlebush Indian Reserve; his family, the hundreds of Plains Shoshone living there. Skylar can’t help it if he better resembles his biological mother, a woman whose untimely death left him with more secrets than memories. Skylar’s father has been in federal prison for the past fifteen years. The summer of his release coincides with familial matters of a different nature: Skylar and his husband are trying to adopt a daughter. Piecing together a fragmented family is no small task. All the patience in the world cannot contend with thirty-three years of reticence.
Things Nick North is supposed to be: A space pirate. An awkward teenager on the verge of adulthood, newly navigating the maze of gender and sexuality. Things Nick North is not supposed to be: A psychotherapist. Escort to a pair of alien princesses. Owner of an amusement park. Captain of the entire ship. The Suddenly Space Pirates have an unwanted stowaway in the form of Raul Ales de Foc, genocidal destroyer of universes. How the crew reacts in his time of need will ultimately test their character–and their Patience. The question remains: Can Nick steal three new pieces of treasure and still find time to hand in his summer homework?
Matteo and his brother Kalid are night walkers, two of thousands of Ugandan children who walk away from their rural homes every night to evade captivity by the Lord’s Resistance Army. The Lord’s Resistance Army, a Christian army spanning the width of East and Central Africa, has been kidnapping children to fight its battles for over a decade. Worse still for Matteo and Kalid is that they are Muslims–the very enemy the LRA proposes to wipe off of the face of the planet. When Kalid contracts a debilitating fever, the boys’ parents urge Matteo to make the nightly walk on his own; the LRA wants healthy soldiers, they reason, not sickly children. Reluctantly, Matteo makes the trip to neighboring Luwero without his little brother. The following morning, Matteo returns to his village to find it raided by the LRA, his brother missing, his parents dead. Matteo quickly makes up his mind: He must join the LRA, find his little brother, and smuggle him to safety. What Matteo does not expect to discover on enemy soil are thirty thousand children who want to go home but have forgotten the way. Conflicted by their suffering, Matteo’s quest to find his brother spirals into a journey to unite thirty thousand boys and girls in a rebellion against the world’s largest and cruelest army, all while fighting Someone Else’s War.
Most of her books are under five dollars, and have a lot of non-white and queer representation. Please support this writer as she enters a new chapter in her career.
GREATEST PLOT TWIST OF 2017??!!!
May I strive to be like this.
okay u can make fun of Shrek all you want but if u don’t think they were the most beautiful fucking movies ever then ur wrong
I think its pretty fucked up that we arent constantly going fucking nuts over the fact that gorillas can learn sign language. They can fucking talk in every way except vocally holy shit
This is fucking beautiful
Hollup she at jcpenny fucking up the violin to kanye
Great scene, and based on an actual historical incident in medieval Germany:
When King Conrad III defeated the Duke of Welf (in the year 1140) and placed Weinsberg under siege, the wives of the besieged castle negotiated a surrender which granted them the right to leave with whatever they could carry on their shoulders. The king allowed them that much. Leaving everything else aside, each woman took her own husband on her shoulders and carried him out. When the king’s people saw what was happening, many of them said that that was not what had been meant and wanted to put a stop to it. But the king laughed and accepted the women’s clever trick. “A king” he said, “should always stand by his word.”
Medieval women were BAMFs.
This movie scene is where I learned the true survival value of being a smart-ass.
I have a client who communicates exclusively via Microsoft Word.
If she has something to tell me, I’ll receive an email with nothing in the body, but a Word doc attached. That’s where she writes her message.
Whenever she wants to email me a photo, she does so via an empty Word doc with said photo set as its background.
But my favorite thing was the first time I witnessed her visiting a website. She had me spell the URL (“W… W… W… dot…”) and with my own two eyes I watched her type it into Word, made it a hyperlink, and Ctrl click it to go there.
I was so fascinated I didn’t even say anything.
she knows something we dont
Mexico? They have a 99% vaccination rate. In some Orange County (you know, in THE USA) schools, the vaccination rates have been found to be as low as 30%. DON’T YOU DARE BLAME IMMIGRANTS FOR THIS.
Reminder that in Mexico the nurses go to schools and vaccinate children
Wait, in the U.S nurses don’t go to your schools to vaccinate you? I mean, it’s an obligation…
No they don’t. When I was little you had to have forms from a doctor proving the child was vaccinated so they could start school. Kids did have to be vaccinated but it was 100% on the parents to pay for the doctor visit and vaccine
Then anti-vaxxers started campaigns saying this infringed on their freedom of choice and many states relaxed vaccination laws. There have also been incidents of people faking the vaccine papers to get their kids into school even though they hadn’t been vaccinated
At such moments, I realize that all these stupid stereotypes about us do not have the right to exist
Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017)
Director:David Soren
Martina Big started out as a white woman, and now she’s here ... with Maury Povich, explaining why she chose to drastically change her appearance. The plastic-surgery-obsessed Big appeared on Maury, wearing a gigantic “Black Girls Rock” necklace and her best kinky weave. Even as the audience sat dumbfounded and confused, you could tell Maury was thinking, “I should have just did my usual paternity-testing show”.
When Maury Povich is a voice of reason, you need to check your life decisions.
i’m sorry i had to add these audience reactions because i felt every single one of these emotions while watching this
Adding on a few more just to save you the displeasure
Who wore it better? Kylie Jenner or Joseline Hernandez? (x)
