#to slander her

[lavenderpanic]

[chloesimaginationthings]

The more circus babies in FNAF the better,,

[viyojo]

[xixovart]

if annabeth had been taken by juno instead you know perfectly well she would’ve remembered percy. bc percy was the first to acknowledge her as a person and not a warrior or an error. the only reason juno didn’t take annabeth was because percy would’ve pulled a ‘rage of achilles’ type shit

[lilybug-02]

It has been a long time since laughter has filled the air here. It is welcomed gratefully.

Bug Fact: Female Scorpion Flies choose their mates based on his saliva-secretion ability, if it's not good enough for her, she may eat the wooer.

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Masterpost

[rynli]

every binary man does this

part 1

[nekoekko-art]

My girl.... my little girl..... i love her...

No blood ver. below

[p1xzels]

i never realized light holds L’s hand but not misa’s ohhhhhh I’m sick. I’m sick

[tshortik]

[I give her little bat nose a kiss and she promptly bites off my nose]

[wigglesdtuff]

we cannot give up on the future of the world

[yujateaandpi]

Sneak peek at The Ballad of Emma May. This will be a Fiddleford-focused comic releasing between Chapters 1 and 2 of Thirty More Years!

[chloesimaginationthings]

BROO YOUR MOVIE VANESSA IS SO SGSJSBZISVSHSGDUHXBXXH AAAAAAA WE NEED TO SEE HER FINALLY SNAP OH MY GOD SHE IS WALKING ACROSS A TIGHTROPE MADE OF A SINGLE PIECE OF STRAW BROOO

Vanessa is just too good at keeping it together

[sevilynne]

"Snape was just petty."

Ahh... Yes... Years of tormenting, getting SA'd infront of the whole school, and almost getting killed is just being petty... SUREE...

[purrgiri]

[rockleesnegrowife]

Angel Reese will FOREVER be one of the FINEST WNBA girlys

[after-witch]

Ragdoll [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Ragdoll [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Your back hurts and Mahito fixes it for you. inspired by snatches of conversation with @absolute-flaming-trash as so many Mahito things are!

Word count: 500ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, body modification

“Well? How does it feel?” Mahito asks, and whenever Mahito asks, you are bound to consider the answer. Whether or not you actually give it depends on the day and time and how much you’re willing to endure.

You’re… Weightless. That’s what you feel–no, no, no. That’s wrong. Not weightless. There is weight to you. You are not some candy floss being tossed in the wind by a child uncaring of the time spent crafting it, hot metal bowls and spinning sticks and carpal tunnel from too many summers on a carnival job.

You have weight, but it is thick and slimy and moveable, like a glob of remorseless slime built up in a forgotten bathroom sink. Or something heavier, filled with beans or sand or stuffing.

A doll, maybe? Oh, yes.

A doll. A ragdoll. The kind your grandparents gifted you when you were little, because it’s what they grew up with on the dusty old farm, and your parents cooed over her yarn hair and homespun look.

But you shoved her onto the decorative chair in the corner of your bedroom and never played with her because you wanted something chic and fun, a doll with brushable hair and clothes that came off. 

Now you’re stuck in that corner chair, or you would be, except Mahito wants to play with you. Likes to play with you. Likes to hold you, like he’s doing now, humming and holding out one hand so all of your weight slides to one side and the only thing keeping you upright is the grip of his fingers.

Then flopping you to the other side, and doing it again, and again. Then holding you close and down, like he’s dipping you in a dance. 

He could let you go and you’d fall, a heap, onto the floor. Would it hurt? Maybe the rest of you would.

But not your back. Not your spine. He replaced it all with gelatin or goo or slime or whatever he’d decided upon, after you’d begged and begged and begged. Chronic back pain was a bitch. Chronic back pain when you were sleeping on floors and hammocks was bitchier. 

“It hurts so much. I can’t stand it. Please, please, please.”

And he’d tickled his fingers up your back–it hurt, too–and smiled down.

“You really want me to fix you?”

And you did, and he did, and here you are now.

Weighty and weightless all the same, his pretty ragdoll. 

Only he can brush your hair and change your clothes and maybe that will keep him from shoving you into the corner and forgetting about you. 

The thought is too far back to be anything more than a gnat you’ll swat when it comes closer, though. Because your spine is jello, sure, sure, sure. But it doesn’t hurt. And you can’t strain a ligament or herniate a disc when there’s nothing there to hurt, can you? 

It doesn’t hurt, for once, and that’s enough.

Mahito drops you low, again, catching you before your head smacks against the concrete.

He smiles. 

So do you.