One Thing I Love Love Love Love *love* About The Owl House Finale Is That They Gave Luz's Titan Form

a peaceful moment

the sun

the stars

the moon

and MARS

Congrats on winning, Martyn!

i'm so insane about this series, omg

(The MARS theory by @b1odeuwed)

As a fandom I know we love traumatizing Glinda.. (I do too) But we need to start letting her traumatize other people!

Give that Girl a Gun or a Knife!! She would absolutely deck the floor with them!!

Hell make her getting revenge on the people whom traumatized her!!!

Some B-Plot that I feel was missing from the movie. XD

Finally saw the movie!! I LOVE IT!!!! 

the church of england was literally started because henry viii, a man who cheated on his wife multiple times and had at least one child with one of the women he cheated on her with, wanted a divorce that the catholic church wouldn’t give him.

you are the last people who should be saying anything about the sanctity of marriage, you absolute clowns 💀💀💀

Help fund the final season of the Sheridan Tapes! If you havent checked out this podcast its definitely worth a listen.

"In 2018 famed horror writer Anna Sheridan disappeared, leaving behind only a box of mysterious cassette tapes. Detective Sam Bailey is tasked with piecing together what happened to Anna Sheridan from the seemingly impossible encounters she recorded, but as the scattered pieces of the puzzle come together, Bailey discovers the picture is even stranger - and more dangerous - than it seemed"

sorry just tearing up over the idea of multiple people using the pain-sharing spell. “with this spell declared, let the pain be shared,” except it’s said three, four, five times, the pain passed along and lessened each time. if we all hurt a little then no one of us has to hurt a lot.

I tried!!!! Inspired by absolutely stunning dance scene from this animatic - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgPYshUbk9g

Another Scar TCD angst because @stiffyck has ruined me.  Seriously, I'm supposed to be working on the Blackjack AU, but no, now I have brainrot. 

A Scar by Any Other Name

Of course, it was Grian who asked. 

The two men sat on a double chest in one of Scar's many chest monsters, just chatting and having a mid-afternoon snack. 

"So, I've been curious about something for a while.  Can I ask you a question?"

Scar chuckled.  "You just did."

Grian rolled his eyes.  "Can I ask you something a bit personal?"

"Sure.  I've got nothing to hide."

Grian snorted and laughed again.  "I don't believe that for a second.  But I've been wondering: Is 'Scar' actually your real name?"

Scar's smile dropped, and he went ridged.  He knew that someday, someone would ask.  He just hadn't bothered to consider how he would answer.  Pretty much everyone on Hermitcraft went by nicknames; one's they'd given themselves, one's they'd been called by friends enough times that they stuck around, names they grew into by virtue of what kind of person or player they were.  But they all had real names, and most everyone knew the real names of everyone else, though many were rarely if ever used. 

"It might as well be," Scar said quietly after a few long moments.

"Is this..." Grian said cautiously.  He wasn't smiling anymore, either.  "Is this something I shouldn't have asked?"

Scar sighed and shook his head.  "No.  I knew someone would eventually."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with Scar contemplating how to answer and Grian giving him the time and space to do so.

"I don't remember my old name," Scar finally confessed.

"What?" Grian’s voice was all at once shocked, curious, concerned.  "I know you're absent-minded and bad with words sometimes, but how do you forget your own name?"

Scar looked up, trying to oppose gravity so that the tears he felt prickling the corners of his eyes wouldn't fall.  "When you... when you're alone for so long, when there's no one to call your name and no one to tell your name too, you... you change.  The isolation turns you into someone else, and your brain makes room for more important things than names.  The safest route between your base and fresh water, your supply count, your weapon specs.  I -"  His voice cracked, and he hung his head.  Tears fell as he failed to contain a sob.  "I named myself after a rifle because fighting for my life was all I knew."

"Oh, Scar."  Grian gently rested a hand on Scar's shoulder.  Scar flinched slightly in response but quickly relaxed under his friends comforting touch. 

"That's why I name all my bases after myself.  Scar West Outpost, Scarlandia, ScarX.  That way, if I ever forget my name again, there's something there to remind me who I am."

"We won't let you forget," Grian assured him, squeezing Scar's shoulder.  "We'll never let you be alone for so long ever again."

Scar sniffled and offered up a small, sad smile.  "Thanks, G."

"Always."

They sat there for another few hours. Scar told Grian more about the dead apocalypse world he came from, and Grian listened intently.  There were some things he wasn't quite ready to talk about yet, and Grian understood.  Grian wasn't without his own deamons, after all, so he could empathize. 

When evening came, Grian walked Scar home and didn't leave.  He could tell Scar didn't want to be alone after rehashing the trauma of having lived in fear and isolation. 

That night, Scar didn't dream of zombies or death.  He dreamed of friendship and happiness in a world where he knew in his scarred heart that he would never be lonely again.

this was so fucking stupid