Lord Dark Welcomes You



After Ever After 2 - DISNEY PARODY 

I never thought this day would come.

Elsa’s story speaks to me on an emotional level


 - Desired audio starts at 50sec
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Someone asked me about a scenario kind of like this and I couldn’t help myself. The video can be found here.



short and simple korrasami comic based on the first 5 minutes of episode 1, book 3

Why is this pairing so amazing when their characters are literally incompatible without some damn good context

(アニメ「進撃の巨人」OP) - 紅蓮の弓矢
667,985 plays




When I have kids this will be their lullaby song



girl straight up sent that motherfucker to jail for bein sexist why aint that the case irl smh

I remember this episode
he went all super buff or something and beat the shit out of her and it hurt her because of the artificial nerves
and then she had her friend change it to tickle from pain and it made him lose confidence and he got all wimpy because of it
and she was gonna let him go because he just wanted people to stop thinking he was a wimp
and then he said that
and that happened




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Flutterwhat - Moonlit (Pure Piano Version)
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I’m releasing my new EP really soon, and I wanted to share one of it’s songs with you. This is a new version of 2012’s Moonlit. It’s what I call a “Pure Piano Version” and it sounds heck-of-a-lot better then the old version if you ask me.

The New EP, called “Royals EP”, contains seven seven tracks and material, and aside from one of the songs (A “Con mix” of rock poems,) Are all inspired by the princesses from My Little Pony. 

Enjoy this, and consider pre-ordering on my band camp! (It’ll be available for free upon release)

This song was always my favorite song, and the vocals were really good. This version is still amazing


your icon shows who you are inside

apparently I am a badass girl in black

Memories of Her, a random dream oneshot I had

What are lines? There are a lot of answers to that question. A better question would be, what can you do with lines? There are a lot of answers to that question too, but at least those answers would have meaning. For me, lines make up a very peculiar circle. It starts with just a normal circle, but then there’s all of these perfectly symmetrical curves inside the circle that create an intricate weaving design.

I draw this symbol on a door, and it opens a door to my memories.

My memories of her.

We walked into the gymnasium, my best friend and I. We were late, terribly late, but nobody in the room seemed to mind. Someone even gave up their seat to move further along the line so that my friend and I could sit together, to which I nodded in thanks. But either way, as we entered, there she was. She stood on the little stage, alongside a few other girls. I don’t even remember what their uniform looked like because they changed it at the school not long after.

She was beautiful, and she seemed surprised and relieved when she saw us. She was the final piece of our little triplet. We all smiled to each other and they went on.

It was kind of surreal, watching her dance. I mentioned wanting some popcorn, and to my surprise someone near me got some for me without hesitation. You see, it was sort of a sad tale. I was deathly ill, rarely even attending school. Neither doctors nor I myself knew what it was, but some days I wouldn’t even wake up from the night’s sleep. Today, even though I had been bedridden for a month prior, I needed to see her here.

She was developing the early symptoms of whatever it was that I had and that scared the both of us. It was a miracle that she was even up there dancing, even though it was her last. But still, I smiled and I clapped as she and the other girls performed- but we all know my eyes were always on her.

After a while the coordinator announced a few things and she stood there alone. Her solo routine, I’ve only seen it done by professionals when she studies it. It was impressive, and a massive feat of strength for even a high school freshman like her. I’d known her forever and she always dreamed of doing it. She prepared, she got a few steps of a running start to aid in the maneuver and she made the small leap to start it.

And then she stopped. Instead of moving on with the amazing thing, she stopped dead in her tracks. She slowly walked over to the microphone. She wasn’t confident in her strength anymore, she thought she couldn’t do it. She thought she was too frail now, and appologised for wasting everyone’s time. She sat back down. I put my arms to my shoulders for a moment.

Every time I see this memory, I want to change it. I want to stand up and walk over to her and give her the surprise now instead of waiting. It was dangerous to change the past, even if it’s just through a memory.

I stood up and walked over to her, everyone’s eyes on me. I stood in front of her, she had tears in her eyes. I would have none of that. I wiped them away quickly and sat down on the floor in front of her.

Push me, I said. She was confused. Push me, I repeated. You’re not strong enough?, I said. I may be weak, but it’s hard to shift me. So Push me, I continued.

She refused to push me, she didn’t want to hurt me. Her father next to her made to touch me, for reasons I don’t know, but I put my hand up and blocked me.

She’s the only one that can move me right now, I said. We stared at each other for a long time and still nothing happened. I rolled up the short sleeves on my shirt to reveal markings on my shoulder. They were lists, charts almost, identical to one another. There were three boxes above the list, each had a number from one to three in it.

One is lying down, two is sitting and the third is standing; I said. Under the boxes were the lists. They read: Hands, Feet, Dragging, Flipping and Picking Up. Some of them had ones or twos or threes next to them, and picking up had all three numbers and was filled in.

Once you fill these out, you’re strong enough to do whatever you want. You’ve already done some of it, I said to her. Our eyes met again, then, and she was crying again. These tears weren’t the tears of the girl lost in assumed failure, though. They were tears of happiness. At least I hoped so. She dropped to the floor in front of me and pulled me into an embrace, a very strong embrace I might add.

I looked down at my desk, looking at my completed test. It was a pain erasing my mark from the classroom door, I had asked to go the the restroom and quickly penned it on the door once outside. I stood up a little shakily, but confidently walked to the teacher’s desk and turned it in. He nodded and I left the room.

Her illness had progressed exponentially faster than mine had. By the time I was bedridden again she could barely even move. They had us moved into the same hospital room and I helped take care of her when I could get out of my bed. On her good days when she could stand, she would just sit at the window. It was crushing to watch her wilt away, now I know how she felt.

Our other friend visited almost every day, usually with something to eat since the hospital food was less than savory. More often than not it turned into a little group hug where neither of us wanted anyone to go.

I still miss that. She died half a year after that day, one day she just didn’t wake up. We hadn’t even filled half of the list. That was the saddest day of my life, I still remember her face in death perfectly. It was sad, it was dejected. It was the face of someone who thought they failed in everything they did in life. I recovered, after they figured out what it was and managed to stop it from advancing. I was undergoing treatment to slowly reverse the damage. I refuse to learn the name of the thing that took her, though.

But I remembered something else. Those were old memories, outdated. I did something different this time, and it changed a few things I realized.

She wasn’t nearly as bad as I remembered at first. She had more good days than bad, and when she did we would work on the lists. I looked down and pulled my sleeves up and was happily surprised to find them completed, the entire things filled in. I remembered that she lived a full year, rather than half a year, and that they found the cure earlier. I remember watching her dance again. It wasn’t the solo routine she wanted, but it was more than what she thought she could do.

And she still died, the damage of her advanced illness was too much after a while. I remember trying to wake her up and realizing she wasn’t breathing and that the machines had all flatlined. As doctors and nurses swarmed in, I looked at her face. She was smiling. She was happy she got to do what she did before she went.

Today was my graduation day, that test was a test for getting into college. I was a speaker at the commencement, and I told her story. I left out the me changing the memory part and left the magic out of it of course- nobody knows about that. But her story was still powerful. We were just a couplet now, my friend and I, but we had a third cap for her. We threw it higher than all the rest, I left that cap on her grave.

I’m glad I did what I did, I always regretted waiting to do what I did. She must have been ridiculed- or maybe since everyone was watching she felt obligated to listen to me. I don’t know.

What I do know, now, is that those memories aren’t soiled by regret and anguish anymore.

My Memories of her.

would satan ever take on a female form?


Last one before I go back to the comic. He’d probably do it to tempt married people to commit adultery or to spread gossip among hot tempered women to start fights. Anything to get people to sin.