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Yohoho 😄. The meme was from me but the vid was from who it’s reposted by. Anyways shoutout to @fitness.wolves because yah! . . . . Tags: #bae #crazybitch #crazy #crazyassbitch #hodamn #damn #daymn https://www.instagram.com/p/BpE7m6aARJe/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=r31bzg8pesl3
HARRY up and marry me
HOLY SHIT JURASSIC WORLD BLEW MY STRESS LEVEL THROUGH THE ROOF!! That thing was amazing!!! The velociraptors! The fuckboy-Rex! The graphics! The story! The music! The humor! The HORROR. Even I want to give props to Irfan Khan, a bollywood actor who has become a big hit in Hollywood, has played an amazing prominent role as Dr Masrani, and I was so proud! Good god I recommend this movie :) :) :)
Your character has a dream involving a mirror, where they see themselves for the monster or the hero they believe themselves to be. When they gaze into the mirror and remember all that they’ve done, what do they see?
Unease. That was the first thing he felt as he traipsed through the quiet snow. Cautiously looking this way and that as he made his way to the familiar house, squashed between two rocks and covered by mounds of snow. It looked like no one had seen it in years, the snow around it fresh and untouched, the one window cracked, snow drifting in.
Tentatively he’d push on the door, the scent of moss and lichen tickling his nose as the door creaks and slowly drifts away from his hand, the bright colours he remembers of the curtains and rugs faded, greyed out. Amber hues flick over each object, recalling, or trying to, the memories behind each one, a small smile on his lips. However it was soon replaced with a frown as he noticed something dreadfully out of place. A mirror. The frame was cracked and worn mahogany, the corner of the rectangular thing splintering in spiderlike design.
The unease doubled as he found himself moving forwards, watching as his reflection did to, amber hues widening as he started to pick up the differences. His clothes. He looked down at his clean and comfortable clothing before looking back up, noticing the shredded rags that graced that gaunt frame. The way his reflection moved…seemed off. Jerky movements, claws seen amidst the tatters that had been his gloves.
Was it really him? Amber hues zeroed in on the face, balking slightly. It was grinning at him. His reflection..was grinning at him. Skinny frame had shrunken, muscles seemingly twisted in a parody of their former selves. Scars and burn marks seemed fresher, the large one that had almost killed him years ago shown in sharp relief..open, dripping putrid black ooze as the monster grinned at him, amber hues almost red in the darkness of the room.
A frown slides across his sleeping features, thighs moving against one another as he shifts in his sleep, tail twitching.
"Kirriiiiiiiiiiiiiiill," the reflection hissed out, sickeningly sweet as a long tongue slide between jagged fangs. "Sweet kirrill, juicy kirrill, let me eat you up," it crooned, sliding a hand across the surface of the mirror, as though it were real, just caged by the frame. Tattered ears were perked up and forwards at him, fur missing in patches and burn marks, hair choppily charred in places and ripped out in others, the black ooze that dripped from the creature’s chest dotted amongst the damage on its head and body.
"Come closer sweetling, let me judge your worth," it snickered, breathy laughter, so close to his own rasping from its throat. The head would tilt to an unnatural angle, an eyebrow raised as it tapped on the glass. Ears perk up and forwards in shock, amber hues staring at where the crea- where his reflection had tapped, the jagged claw seeming to pick at a small crack in the glass.
"Let me touch you. Let me cradle you in my embrace as I whisper sweet nothings in your ear," it promises, it’s grin turning cheshire wide, sharp teeth shown as it presses against the mirror’s surface, broken tail flicking excitedly behind it.
He had to get out of here.
Wrenching his gaze away from the demonic thing he’d turn and walk towards the entrance of his long forgotten home, turning his head so fast he almost gets whiplash as he hears a crashing of glass.
A clawed hand peeks out from the dark black the mirror now appeared to be, slowly lowering towards the floor to pull its emaciated body from the mirror, head still tilted at that dangerous angle. “Run little sweetling, run and I will catch you and eat you up,” it promises, words rasped out in a sing song tone.
He’d turn and run, almost tripping over the rugs in his haste for the door, wrenching it open and nearly blinding himself from the harsh white light of the snow. As he runs, boots crunching into the snow, eyes wide and pupils shrunk in fear he recalls. Small lies to protect himself, what he deems to be important. Bigger lies to help the agenda, to help the plan succeed. Dragging the dead away, they weren’t going to complain about what happened to their bodies.
His thoughts are interrupted as a body smashes into him, sending him flailing into the snow. “Aww, sweet Kirrill wasn’t fast enough,” the voice rasps, triumph clear in its tone as sharp, jagged claws pierce through his clothing, a hiss escaping him in pain as he attempted to fling the body off of him. It’s muscles lied just like the rest of it, it felt like he was being pushed down by a mechari, crying out in anguish as the face got nearer to his own. Spittle of putrid black speckling his cheeks as it leaned in for his fa-
He jolted awake with a start, cold sweat clinging to him and the sheets, heart racing enough he was afraid of palpitations. Eyes were wide, flicking anxiously about the small, cramped sleeping space for anything resembling a reflection, heart in his throat. Panting, he’d flop back onto the mattress, running hands through slick hair, grimacing but soothed by the reaction. He’d carefully sit back up again and crawl his way to the end of the bed, biting his lip as feet meet the cold steel floors of reality.
Time for a shower and no sleep..ever again if he could help it.
New song by tycho is real goo
.
YOU KNOW HOW YOU TRY TO AVOID A TEACHERS BUTT IN YOUR FACE
TRY HAVING ONE STOP IN MID WALK AND FART NEXT TO YOU
A STUDENTS WORSE NIGHTMARE
OLD MANS FARTS DON'T SMELL LIKE FLOWERS YOU KNOW
GOD DAMN IT
People, people, please. I have lived 28-going-on-29 years, I'm practically an ahjumma. I cannot remember everything that happens.
