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I'm not going to lie to you the terrors of this world really do fuck me up sometimes

This was the last episode of the first season of The Twilight Zone and they never dared to do anything as fucking funny as this again.

Yknow how Paul looks like this at beanies in NPMD?

Jon’s got wet hair because he just took out all the green from being Wiggly.

BUT

It’s hilarious to just think Paul is so fucking anxious about giving Emma his number he’s just, standing their sweating his fucking ass off.

EDIT: I FUCKED UP. THE SUMMONING HASN’T EVEN HAPPENED YET. HE JUST LOOK LIKE THAT Y’ALL

be gay do crime.. or something

hi. im rod serling. not to spoil anything, but these guys are fucked

@thenightfolknetwork

Would you still love me if I was a A large serpentine creature born to mortal parents who didn’t listen to the advice of a old crone and thus borne me (Cool & reptilian) and my younger brother (normal & boring), and I disappeared to woods after my birth only to return when my brother is about to get married so I can throw a hissy fit because I wasn’t married first, but each and every time my parents found me a spouse I ate them and after the third or second time of eating them they decided they couldn’t give me another noble /or royal spouse so they went to your father (a shepherd) and arranged our marriage, and you go to the woods and met a old crone (the same crone my mother spoke to) and you tell her about our engagement and how I ate my last two fiancées and you think I’ll eat you too (this is absolutely 100% true) and she gives you a list of things to do for our wedding night and we get married and your wearing all of your clothes at the same time and this begins a really long strip tease where each time you take off a article of clothing I have to shed my snakeskin and once you finally take off all your clothes you take out the whip you soaked in lye and whip me, put me in a bath full of milk, and then put me to bed, so when they find us in the morning we are both alive and I’m no longer a man eating snake

Would you still love me then??

Putting your vampire fuckbuddy into the sauna to reach normal body temp before sex so their ice cold hole doesn't kill your boner

he looks like scrappy doo

hammer-headed bats are the only thing you should be thinking about

Reblog to kill it faster

Ever since I was young, I was raised to be a total blank slate. No interests, no aesthetics, nothing. I was meant to be the vessel to L’Gogamet, the Hallowed One. So, that meant I had to fully give myself over to Them.

The only problem is: They never bothered to show up. I sat there, on my eighteenth birthday, waiting for Them to rend my soul from my flesh, only to receive a burning blaze of light reading “sorry, can’t make it, save the next one for me.”

My family wasn’t exactly thrilled. They were under the impression that I had done something wrong, though for the life of me I have no clue what it was. And now, I’m all alone. I have no clue what I’m meant to do.

I have a small apartment and a roommate. I’ve tried to get interested in the same stuff she likes, but it honestly just doesn’t appeal to me. But I have no clue what there is that I do like. Apparently, outside of my family, there isn’t exactly a “L’Gogamet fanbase”, and that was the only thing I was allowed to be interested in for my whole life.

I’ve gone to support groups, but sitting in a circle with other blank slates doesn’t exactly feel helpful. And then when someone does find something interesting, I’m like “wow! good for you! time to go back to doing nothing with my life.”

Worst of all are the modifications. My family took it upon themselves to alter me in a few ways, various piercings and tattoos that They should have loved. Only now, I’m stuck with them. And most of them are cursed to never be removed. I’ve been called out a few times, told that they’re “appropriative for a Sapio like me to have.” That hurt more than most comments, because I guess that’s all I am now. A Sapio, with nothing special about me except the disgusting markings all over me.

Your show came up in one of the support group meetings. I thought maybe you would have some advice? How do I find my interests and my self when I’ve been raised to be a nobody?

I'm so sorry your family have treated you with such unkindness – and I don't only mean their failure to support you after their plans went awry. It was profoundly unkind of them to raise you the way they did, as if you were nothing but a vessel for their hopes and aspirations and not your own person.

Their treatment of your body is particularly upsetting. I am certainly not going to try and tell you that your markings aren't “disgusting”, or to tell you how you ought to feel about your own body. I do encourage you to take whatever steps you feel appropriate in reclaiming your body, however.

Part of this reclamation might involve covering or removing the marks inflicted on you by your family. But I encourage you to experiment with other ways of changing your appearance, too. Play around with your clothing, hairstyles, hair colour, make-up – whatever you can think of.

The point isn't to find a style that you love, but rather to demonstrate actively to yourself that this body is yours, your own, and that finally, you are in charge of how it looks.

Of course, this process does bump up against your initial question rather. How are you supposed to know what sort of choices you want to make when you've never been allowed to make that kind of choice before?

The answer may seem obvious: you need to try as many things as you can, and expose yourself to as many new experiences as possible. But for the time being, I want you try and set aside your concerns about finding what you “really” like.

That is a huge amount of pressure to put on yourself, especially when you're starting from scratch, like you are. Instead, go into these activities with no more pressure on yourself than a sense of open curiosity.

You're not on some great quest to discover your True Self – you're just popping into the local book club to see what it's like, or borrowing some knitting needles from a friend and giving it a go. You can check what clubs and events are running at your local library, and make a game of trying as many as you can fit into your schedule.

Give yourself time. Imagine your personality as a plant that has been left in a dark, cold room with nothing to feed it and no light to help it grow. Against all odds, it has survived – pale and stunted, but alive. Now imagine you bring that plant into a warm, bright room, you feed it and water it, and above all you give it the space it needs. Who knows what kind of beautiful thing it might blossom into?

Finally, a word on your identity. Reader, you absolutely don't have to identify as sapio if you don't want to. There are plenty of people who consider themselves to be people of the night based on their magical practice, their religious background, or their occupations. You personal experiences more than qualify you to do the same.

As I've said many times before, liminality is defined by the people who claim it. There isn't an external, objective standard of “strangeness” that you have to meet in order to be a member of the community. Anyone who says otherwise is at best dangerously ignorant and at worst, wilfully so.