Ohhhh I Love Himmmm

Scientist: I made Kool-aid with my lab equipment.

Me: Pssh, that's easy. You just use the powder-

Scientist: it's homemade

Me: *sweats*

happy new year

You only have however long you want to reblog this the joke noclipped!

i remember this from my dreams

I never thought I would see the day where I could reblog this amazing piece

I feel so honored

ok but what if like. werewolves transform under the full moon but theres just this one and by day hes a big tough guy and then when he transforms hes a tiny dog. just fucking. just fucking turns into the tiniest, fluffiest dog

imagine that howling at the moon

My handsome man

here’s a secret message only people on mobile can see 🆒 🅱🅾🅾🅱

Her.

Based on the writing prompt, "Every 100,00 years, God restarts the universe, including mankind. Last time, God started with Adam and Eve. This time, God starts with two new people. The problem, however, is that you've somehow managed to survive the reset, and keep all your memories. Additionally, it appears that you've stopped aging entirely."

~~~

From behind a tree of what I had quickly learned was the garden of Aiden, I watched the couple meet. There were some similarities. The trees were still filled with apples, only they were pink. There were flowers that seemed like prehistoric lilacs, next to vibrant teal ones with no name. The world seemed more saturated, more colorful, slightly more square. But the biggest change was from the two people only a couple meters away. Their leaves didn't need to be on their chests. One was muscular, the other thin and scrawny. Their tails swung gently under them. One of them glanced in my direction, and I hid away. The feeling of being watched didn't leave as he looked away. As I realized just what having two men in the garden meant, a shrieky voice rang out. "ALPHA ADAM AND BETA STEVE, SONS OF GOD." The voice declared. "THOU SHALL BRING UPON THE NEW WORLD. UWU." I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying not to scream. "UwU." They said back. I had to hear them say that. I had to watch Li'l Cider get Steve to bite into the apples, which turned out to be the most primal form of drug. The world hated me. It sounded like God was a 13-year old girl. I wanted to die. But as the years went on, I found I simply couldn't.

~~~

The good thing about being immortal was that I couldn't die. If I broke through skin, there was something like a barrier underneath. During my darkest times, I sat and watched that translucent barrier shimmer in the night before my skin quickly regenerated. The bad thing about being immortal was that I couldn't die. It was so lonely. I couldn't get on Noah's arc - one family per species, he said. I watched the unicorns pile in in my place. Instead, I had a rickety little boat. Halfway through the purge, a wave pushed me off. I breathed in water on purpose. It was agony, but only for a bit. The world looked so pretty under the waves. I stayed down there for a couple weeks.

~~~

I watched Jesus cry on the giant cross, a capitalized T this time around. The guard look at the sun, sweat dripping into his prismarine armor. A man glanced at me, and I tightened the shawl around me head. I nervously scratched at my aching binder. I had to pass, or else they'd find out. I had already become an outcast for not having a tail, or the right ears. But if they knew I was the only girl in a literal world of men . . . I don't know what would happen then. I watched the guard check the sun again, declare it had been 30 minutes, then take Jesus out of his timeout. I wanted to go home so badly I shook a little. 

~~~

I didn't breathe anymore. I didn't have to. I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was John, my friend for this century. "Michael," he started, obviously nervous. "You are a being shrouded with mystery. You share no tales, you hint no clues. And yet here you stand, with no tail nor role to your name, yet ageless beauty. And though I am paralyzed, I must speak the truth. I wish to love you, Michael."

I looked out, gazing across the indigo ocean from the S.S.South. It was not my first confession, nor would it be my last. I always ended up doing the same thing.

"You mortals are fascinating. You live so slow, yet so fast. Your love is quick, yet eternal. Your deaths are sudden, and they have no purpose. You make meaning out of nothing. Amazing."

Yes. I pull some vampire romance bs out of my butt while giving a grim smile.

Luckily, John let out a nervous laugh. Hopefully he was having second thoughts. "S-surely you jest?"

I laughed too, and grabbed my buckled hat out of instinct. "Perhaps. My world is one of fantasy. But I cannot accept your confession. There is only one person whose love I must gain. I don't know if I shall ever find her."

"Her?"

"Yes, her." I hesitated. You'd think that after being alive for thousands of years, I'd remember some words didn't exist anymore. "it's an . . . Ancient word. From my hometown. It means "the one I love". I apologise, but you are not her."

He nodded, big ears drooping, and turned away. I didn't move for a second, but saw a man glanced at me and quickly looked back out into the ocean. I had definitely thought about having a purpose. But with the literal child of the Justice clothing store and furry fanfiction running the town (did I mention the boat was pink?), It seemed pretty slim that that was the case. Especially since there was no such thing as "her." Still, it was nice to think about.

~~~

I denied being a witch. I knew no matter how much skin they scorched off, I'd be fine. But I wanted to see how far they would go. I fought the special red-and-white striped rope bonds a little, grinning. I had reverted back to an edgy way of living, just in time for the warlock trials. Even better, in this timeline, it was universal, and I was actually pretty sure warlocks were real. Maybe I was a warlock - well, a witch, - and I just hadn't realized my powers yet. I heard whispers and shouts as I passed by.

"I heard Cider himself cut off his tail!"

"What are those things on his head?"

"Neither alpha not beta . . . "

"Always an outcast, always a warlock!"

I stepped up onto the wood, smiling. A hundred or more eyes stared up at me as I was bound to a pole. I smiled; I hadn't had this many eyes on me since before the first Armageddon. They lit the match. And then there was screaming. From them, from me. I felt every lick of flame. It was only when I felt something near my chest snap that faintly I realized my mistake through the mind-numbing pain. My badly made binder had broken. If they saw through the flames, they would be able to see that I'm wronger than they ever thought. I struggled through my rope ties, surely scaring everyone around me. The second I felt them loosen, I ran.

~~~

When someone is so utterly suicidal that they would gladly jump into extraordinarily deadly situations just because it felt nice, war seemed like the perfect choice. I took bullets like they were little spitballs being thrown my way. I treated myself like little more than a fleshy punching bag. I made excuses as to why I was still alive, why it took me so long to realize we were retreating, why I seemed to have a death wish. I was able to laugh it off. I kept fabric over my ears, a homemade binder on my chest, and a hole in my heart at all times. As I ran in front of someone to feel pain spread from my arm, I never wished more for that dumb kid in the sky to kill me.

~~~

I sat in my room, drunkenly looking at the small pile of pages in front of me. When I first came to this world, I had grabbed a bit of charcoal and tree bark, and I wrote down as much as I could remember. As the centuries passed on, they were written and rewritten, edited constantly to make more of a story than a documentary. Constantly getting longer and longer as I quickly realized just how much a person's mind wasn't supposed to handle so much memory. And there they were. I thought about my bad job. I thought about my broken, dinky little apartment. I thought about me. And I grabbed my age-old computer and started to write.

~~~

I was at a book signing, my fears about being found out stuck in the back of my head. I called my ears a mutation, my lack of tail a birth defect. I questioned my sanity, wondering if they were really just that. I wrote the hole in my heart into pages of writing, and came out with a "fantasy" where the world was slightly different, and they all looked like me. I wrote a series on that topic. I wrote stories about aliens and existentialism, and the people loved it. I called up the next in line.

"You're Her."

"Hmm? Yes, that's my pen name."

"No. You're Her. It means the one I love."

My face blanched. I hadn't written that in my books.

I signed three more guys, and then went for lunch with him.. His name was Jackson, and he told me he had seen paintings of us together. He had read his great-something grandfather John's diary. He read about Her. He didn't think I was real. I said I wasn't sure if I was either. We laughed and talked a bit more. After listening to me for a bit, he told me whether I had been alive for hundreds of years or not, I should get a therapist. I agreed. We never spoke again.

~~~

I kept nervously checking my phone. Today was the day. After thousands of years of contact, it was finally the same day everyone died. I don't know why I kept track of the date, but I was pretty sure today was the Armageddon day. I chose a nice spot in the park, being as close to nature as one could get in the city. And I waited. And waited. People walked past. A dog sniffed at me. The warmth of the sun made me tired, and I started drifting away.

The sound of someone sitting down startled me awake. It was a guy with shaggy hair and a big sunhat, watching the pond in front of us with a little grin on his face. A little strange, but seeing as I existed, it wasn't too bad. 

"Lovely afternoon, isn't it?"

"I Guess."

"I love to come watch the sunsets, though it hasn't started yet."

I gave him a look. "Uh-huh."

"Wish I had brought a book with me, or some birdseed, but-"

I held up a hand. "Look, did you need anything? I'm in the middle of being stood up by the universe."

He stopped his chattering and looked at me, confused. "What were you waiting for?"

"Armageddon."

"Ah." Surprisingly, he just nodded and looked back towards the pond. I left soon after.

Armageddon didn't happen.

~~~

I came back the next week. He was there.

"I feel like I've seen before. On a boat or something."

I laughed at that. "You haven't. It's been ages since I was on a boat."

"It's been ages for me too."

"I've been off longer. Promise."

~~~

I jumped as the man tapped my hand. I yanked it away as fast as physically possible.

"Don't touch me."

 The man raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry! I just wanted to ask you something."

I rubbed my arm, my skin screaming. Touch starvation was real, kiddos. "Well you can do it without touching me?"

"Why are you so angry?"

I paused, then sighed a little. Time for more vampire novels. ". . . I know it doesn't look like it, but I've been alive for a very long time. And I haven't been treated nicely during that time." I hesitated. That was probably too much information. "Nothing too bad, but still. At this point I think I'm just lonely." I looked over, faking a little grin. "Plus, I was really hoping for that Armageddon thing."

The man let out a barely-there chuckle. It didn't seem genuine, though. "What about you?" I asked.

He looked startled, but smiled after a moment. "Well, I'm not really angry, but I'm kind of sad. I've been alive longer than you, and it's been . . . tiring. Too many things have happened to too many people. It's too easy to lose faith in humanity." It got quiet.

Time for a mood change. "You haven't lived longer than me." 

He sighed. "Believe me, I have."

Yeah, right. "Try me. Age?"

"Uh, e-eighty seven!" I gave him a look, then burst out laughing.

"No you're not! You look like your 20-something!"

He huffed, but started to grin." Well then, what about you, junior?"

"Oh, you wanna fight? I've been alive since the beginning of time!"

"Hah! As if!"

"I have! I was in the Garden of Aiden, I saw the two holy losers we call our ultimate grandparents!"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

I threw up my hands "I have!"

"Well, if you've really lived for thousands of years, then it must get lonely. How about a friend?" I must've had a look, because he quickly continued. "Or at least a name? I can't keep calling you 'random guy' in my head."

Screw it. He could be this century's friend. For however long it lasts. I held out a hand. ". . . Um, sure. For both. I'm Michael. Just Michael."

He shook it happily. "Sarah Worth."

"Weird name."

"Yeah, it's a family name."

"Cool." I wondered where he came from. I had never heard of a name that feminine before.

~~~

It became a trend. I threw out some birdseed. "Here's a fun fact: Michael's actually a cover name. I got it back during the creation of America. It's been so long since I've heard my actual name that I've forgotten what I used to be called."

Sarah looked at me, impressed. "Wow. You have a lot of stories, don't you?"

"As I've said. I've lived a long time." 

A look crossed his face for a second. "Um. Do you have a number? I'd love to hear more over some coffee." Oh no.

"I . . . I don't know."

"You don't have a phone?"

"No, I . . . I know it's weird that I keep saying I've lived forever and stuff, but it's true enough. And I haven't ever hooked up with someone, because I don't want to watch them die. I've always left friends after a couple of years so I didn't have to watch them die. I don't want to watch you die." It got quiet.

He almost grabbed my hand, but stopped and set it on the bench instead. "It doesn't have to be forever. It'll be a long, long time before I, or any other friends you have die. And I . . . I- it doesn't have to be a date. Just . . . A scenery change. Okay?"

I stared Sarah down, thinking. Then I nodded. "You know what? Sure."

~~~

I decided, after a while, that Sarah was Her. I decided after it became official, after hundreds of dates, after she moved in with me. Even a century later she was still Her.

"Hey, I'm gonna start calling you Shelly cause you need a girl name." She mumbled in her sleep once.

"Oh my God I love you."

~~~

There was fire. Screaming. The very familiar sense of boiling hot, creamy pain as the world was cast into the sun. And then . . .

~~~

They called it the Empire this time, despite it still being a garden. They weren't apples this time, either, but some weird, lumpy purple things, like if grapes and strawberries had a child. It seemed as though I would really live forever. I was crushed at first. And then I wasn't.

"Do you think there'll be more?" I asked Sarah from up on the wall barrier.

"Maybe. Probably. I mean, I was here a world before you."

"Let's try to find them."

We watched two figures step into partial view. It was hard to see, but I was pretty sure I saw a vague outline of a woman. And a tail. Good enough for me.

There was a flash of red in one of the back corners, but when my head snapped over, it was gone. Probably nothing. I nudged Sarah.

"Hey, you think I could try to shapeshift into something? Like- like a snake?" 

She gave me the Look. "Are you really gonna try at being a devil?"

"Hey, we're immortal. Maybe we're more than that. Just let me try. Please babe. Please."

She glared at my puppy eyes, then groaned  "You are insufferable."

I kissed her cheek and stood up giddily. "Love ya too, babe."

I jumped off the wall excitedly, trying to think really hard about how much I wanted to be a snake. I hoped my girlfriend thought it was amusing. And as I heard the deep voice of the new God of the world, I decided that wherever we were, whatever was happening, it was good enough for me.

Reading this made me think of someone scratching like a screen door or anything that makes that weird high-pitched noise (you know what I'm talking about) and I physically shivered and curled up at the thought alone icky icky icky gross

i feel like everyone w adhd has at least one specific sensory experience that just straight up makes them emotionally cringe and have like... a sensory afterimage. like when i scratch holographic cards the wrong way i can feel it in my fingers for the next 20 minutes and bros that shit SUCKS who gave holographic cards the right to be that outright AWFUL....

Concept: a generic nightclub, except every hour (can be more often), one of those songs from a middle school dance starts playing. Cupid's Shuffle, Macarena, you know it.

i don’t know why anyone has to feel insecure about their bodies, when objectively, humans are all freakish horrors. Every last one of us. Hairless, fleshy, gangly beasts walking upright straight as a tree with bony tentacles on the ends of our limbs. 

you have a hole in your face full of sharp bones and you’re worried that your belly is a little squishy