I put on my sunglasses, to hide my swollen eyes, over my tears. I cried all my makeup off. Went inside to have a milkshake. I don’t know why. I wanted something to drink as I figured out what I would do. I got a soda and a milkshake. Medium. The cashier looked at me and with a line around the corner of the counter he rushed away from the counter “Hold on “ he yelled to a coworker.
I filled my soda and went back and saw him looking all over. I go up and he gets close and says “I made it a large”.
That was seriously enough for me not to do it. His kindness. Someone went out of their way and as I went back in my car to cry I realized I could muster through a few other days. A few more weeks. Then I came down from that panicky high of anxiety, depression, and pain. I finished my shake. And it was enough time to let me feel better. I… I’m alive. I’ll make it through.
Try and be nice today. Tomorrow. Something as much as a smile. It helped so much.
Thank you man at McDonalds.
The milkshake saved my life
I hope you all can read this and remember to be kind
The smallest of gestures can save a life. My Mum answered her phone when I called and I am alive today because of that.
I’m glad you’re here.
It’s a phone call, a milkshake, a friend.
I feel like I shouldn’t keep reblogging this but when I do more people see what kindness can do…. I don’t know. Love everyone as yourself.
Nah, keep rebloging it. It gives hope.
walked sobbing around a city once wearing a summer dress in mid-september thunder and rain. basically dragged myself into LUSH as the smell of the store always made me smile. the shop was empty and dead due to the weather, just this blonde short woman behind the counter who smiled at me. i stared at her feet and asked ‘do you have anything for people who are scared a lot?’ (i was so out of it i had no clue). she showed me two bath bombs, one pink and one blue, and said both were good – i chose the pink, paid for it and left. i then sat at a bus stop clutching the LUSH bag in one arm and my prescription meds in the other – i’d lied and ordered a refill so i could just drift away with sleeping pills. when the bus arrived and i was out of the rain, i decided to have another look at my bath bomb, smell it and what not. opened my bag and saw she’d put the blue one in there for me as well and written on the receipt ‘feel better soon 🙂 hope you like x’.
no one had ever been so selflessly kind to me before, i didn’t know what to do with it except hang around long enough to use the other bath bomb.
Actually I’m going to reblog this again because of the truth of the inverse: think of any time you have been casually cruel or petty to someone for humor or because you weren’t in a great mood.
An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.
It isn’t uncommon for this particular demon to be summoned—from
exhausting Halloween party pranks in abandoned barns to more legitimate (more
exhausting) ceremonies in forests—but it has to admit, this is the first time
it’s been called forth from its realm into a claustrophobic living room bathed
in the dull orange-pink glow of old glass lamps and a multitude of wide-eyed,
creepy antique porcelain dolls that could give Chucky a run for his money with
all of their silent, seething stares combined. Accompanying those oddities are
tea cup and saucer sets on shelves atop frilly doilies crocheted with the
utmost care, and cross-stitched, colorful ‘Home Sweet Home’s hung across the wood-paneled
walls.
It’s a mistake—a wrong number, per se. No witch it’s ever
known has lived in such an, ah, dated,
home. Furthermore, no practitioner that ever summoned it has been absent, as if
they’d up and ding-dong ditched it. No, it didn’t work that way. Not at all.
Not if they want to survive the encounter.
It hears the clinking of movement in the room adjacent—the kitchen,
going by the pungent, bitter scent of cooled coffee and soggy, sweet sponge
cakes, but more jarring is the smell of blood. It moves—feels something slip
beneath its clawed foot as it does, and sees a crocheted blanket of whites and greys
and deep black yarn, wound intricately, perfectly, into a summoning circle. Its summoning circle. There is a small splash
of bright scarlet and sharp, jagged bits of a broken curio scattered on top,
as if someone had dropped it, attempted to pick it up the pieces and pricked their finger.
It would explain the blood. And it would explain the demon being brought into
this strange place.
As it connects these pieces in its mind, the inhabitant of
the house rounds the corner and exits the kitchen, holding a damp, white dish
towel close to her hand and fumbling with the beaded bifocals hanging from her
neck by a crocheted lanyard before stopping dead in her tracks.
Now, to be fair, the demon wouldn’t ordinarily second guess
being face-to-face with a hunchbacked crone with a beaked nose, beady eyes and
a peculiar lack of teeth, or a spidery shawl and ankle-length black dress, but
there is definitely something amiss here. Especially when the old biddy lets
her spectacles fall slack on her bosom and erupts into a wide, toothy (toothless)
grin, eyes squinting and crinkling from the sheer effort of it.
“Todd! Todd, dear, I didn’t know you were visiting this year!
You didn’t call, you didn’t write—but, oh, I’m so happy you’re here, dear!
Would it have been too much to ask you to ring the doorbell? I almost had a
heart attack. And don’t worry about the blood, here—I had an accident. My favorite
figure toppled off of the table and cleanup didn’t go as expected. But I seem
to recall you are quite into the bloodshed and ‘edgy’ stuff these days, so I
don’t suppose you mind.” She releases a hearty, kind laugh, but it isn’t
mocking, it’s sweet. Grandmotherly. The demon is by no means sentimental or
maudlin, but the kindness, the familiarity, the genuine fondness, does pull a
few dusty old nostalgic heartstrings. “Imagine if it leaves a scar! It’d be a
bit ‘badass,’ as you teenagers say, wouldn’t it?”
She is as blind as a bat without her glasses, it would appear,
because the demon is by no means a ‘Todd’ or a human at all, though humanoid, shrouded
in sleek, black skin and hard spikes and sharp claws. But the demon humors her, if only
because it had been caught off guard.
The old woman smiles still, before turning on her heel and
shuffling into the hallway with a stiff gait revealing a poor hip. “Be a dear
and make some more coffee, would you please? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Yes, this is most definitely a mistake. One for the record
books, for certain. For late-night trips to bars and conversations with colleagues,
while others discuss how many souls they’d swindled in exchange for peanuts, or
how many first-borns they’d been pledged for things idiot humans could have
gained without divine intervention. Ugh. Sometimes it all just became so pedantic
that little detours like this were a blessing—happy accidents, as the humans
would say.
That’s why the demon does as asked, and plods slowly into
the kitchen, careful to duck low and avoid the top of the doorframe. That’s why
it gingerly takes the small glass pot and empties it of old, stale coffee and carefully,
so carefully, takes a measuring scoop between its claws and fills the machine
with fresh grounds. It’s as the hot water is percolating that the old woman
returns, her index finger wrapped tight in a series of beige bandages.
“I’m surprised you’re so tall, Todd! I haven’t seen you
since you were at my hip! But your mother mails photos all the time—you do love
wearing all black, don’t you?” She takes a seat at the small round table in the
corner and taps the glass lid of the cake plate with quaking, unsteady, aged hands. “I was starting to think you’d never visit. Your father and I have
had our disagreements, but…I am glad you’re here, dear. Would you like some
cake?” Before the demon has a chance to decline, she lifts the lid and cuts a
generous slice from the near-complete circle that has scarcely been touched. It
smells of citrus and cream and is, as assumed earlier, soggy, oversaturated
with icing.
It was made for a special occasion, for guests, but it doesn’t
seem this old woman receives much company in this musty, stagnant house that
smells like an antique garage that hadn’t had its dust stirred in years.
Especially not from her absentee grandson, Todd.
The demon waits until the coffee pot is full, and takes two
small mugs from the counter, filling them until steam is frothing over the
rims. Then, and only then, does it accept the cake and sit, with some
difficulty, in a small chair at the small table. It warbles out a polite ‘thank
you,’ but it doesn’t suppose the woman understands. Manners are manners
regardless.
“Oh, dear, I can hardly understand. Your voice has gotten so
deep, just like your grandfather’s was. That, and I do recall you have an affinity
for that gravelly, screaming music. Did your voice get strained? It’s alright,
dear, I’ll do the talking. You just rest up. The coffee will help soothe.”
The demon merely nods—some communication can be understood
without fail—and drinks the coffee and eats the cake with a too-small fork. It’s
ordinary, mushy, but delicious because of the intent behind it and the love
that must have gone into its creation.
“I hope you enjoyed all of the presents I sent you. You
never write back—but I am aware most people use that fancy E-mail these days. I
just can’t wrap my head around it. I do wish your mom and dad would visit sometime.
I know of a wonderful little café down the street we can go to. I haven’t been; I wanted to visit it with Charles, before he…well.” She falls silent in her
rambling, staring into her coffee with a small, melancholy smile. “I can’t
believe it’s been ten years. You never had the chance to meet him. But never mind
that.” Suddenly, and with surprising speed that has the demon concerned for her well being, she moves to her feet, bracing her hands on the edge of the table. “I may as
well give you your birthday present, since you’re here. What timing! I only
finished it this morning. I’ll be right back.”
When she returns, the white, grey and black crocheted work with the summoning
circle is bundled in her arms.
“I found these designs in an occult book I borrowed from the
library. I thought you’d like them on a nice, warm blanket to fight off the
winter chill—I hope you do like it.” With gentle hands, she spreads the blanket
over the demon’s broad, spiky back like a shawl, smoothing it over craggy shoulders
and patting its arms affectionately. “Happy birthday, Todd, dear.”
Well, that settles it. Whoever, wherever, Todd is, he’s
clearly missing out. The demon will just have to be her grandson from now on.
this is so sweet. it made me want to hug someone.
i had to
I WOULD WATCH SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE
Okay but she takes him to the little cafe and all of the people in her town are like “What is that thing, what the hell, Anette?” and she’s like “Don’t you remember my grandson Todd?” and the entire town just has to play along because no one will tell little old Nettie that her grandson is an actual demon because this is the happiest she’s been since her husband died.
Bonus: In season 4 she makes him run for mayor and he wins
I just want to watch ‘Todd’ help her with groceries, and help her with cooking, and help her clean up the dust around the house and air it out, and fill it with spring flowers because Anette mentioned she loved hyacinth and daffodils.
Over the seasons her eyesight worsens, so ‘Todd’ brings a hellhound into the house to act as her seeing eye dog, and people in town are kinda terrified of this massive black brute with fur that drips like thick oil, and a mouth that can open all the way back to its chest, but ‘Honey’ likes her hard candies, and doesn’t get oil on the carpet, and when ‘Todd’ has to go back to Hell for errands, Honey will snuggle up to Anette and rest his giant head on her lap, and whuff at her pockets for butterscotch.
Anette never gives ‘Todd’ her soul, but she gives him her heart
In season six, Anette gets sick. She spends most of the season bedridden and it becomes obvious by about midway through the season that she’s not going to make it to the end of the season. Todd spends the season travelling back and forth between the human realm and his home plane, trying hard to find something, anything that will help Anette get better, to prolong her life. He’s tried getting her to sell him her soul, but she’s just laughed, told him that he shouldn’t talk like that.
With only a few episodes left in the season Anette passes away, Todd is by her side. When the reaper comes for her Todd asks about the fate of her soul. In a dispassionate voice the reaper informs Todd that Anette spent the last few years of her life cavorting with creatures of darkness, that there can be only one fate for her. Todd refuses to accept this and he fights the reaper, eventually injuring the creature and driving it off. Knowing that Anette cannot stay in the Human Realm, and refusing to allow her spirit to be taken by another reaper, so he takes her soul in his arms. He’s done this before, when mortals have sold themselves to him. This time the soul cradled against his chest does not snuggle and fight. This time the soul held tight against him reaches out, pats him on the cheek tells him he was a good boy, and so handsome, just like his grandfather.
Todd takes Anette back to the demon realm, holding her tight against him as he travels across the bleak and forebidding landscape; such a sharp contrast to the rosy warmth of Anette’s home. Eventually, in a far corner of his home plane, Todd finds what he is looking for. It is a place where other demons do not tread; a large boulder cracked and broken, with a gap just barely large enough for Todd to fit through. This crack, of all things, gives him pause, but Anette’s soul makes a comment about needing to get home in time to feed Honey, and Todd forces himself to pass through it. He travels in darkness for a while, before he emerges into into a light so bright that it’s blinding. His eyes adjust slowly, and he finds himself face to face with two creatures, each of them at least twice his size one of them has six wings and the head of a lion, one of them is an amorphous creature within several rings. The lion-headed one snarls at Todd, and demands that he turn back, that he has no business here.
Todd looks down, holding Anette’s soul against his chest, he takes a deep breath, and speaks a single word, “Please.”
The two larger beings are taken aback by this. They are too used to Todd’s kind being belligerent, they consult with each other, they argue. The amorphous one seems to want to be lenient, the lion-headed one insists on being stricter. While they’re arguing Todd sneaks by them and runs as fast as he can, deeper into the brightly lit expanse. The path on which he travels begins to slope upwards, and eventually becomes a staircase. It becomes evident that each step further up the stair is more and more difficult for Todd, that it’s physically paining him to climb these stairs, but he keeps going.
They dedicate a full episode to this climb; interspersing the climb with scenes they weren’t able to show in previous seasons, Anette and Honey coming to visit Todd in the Mayor’s office, Anette and Todd playing bingo together for the first time, Anette and Todd watching their stories together in the mid afternoon, Anette falling asleep in her chair and Todd gently carrying her to bed. Anette making Todd lemonade in the summer while he’s up on the roof fixing that leak and cleaning out the rain gutters. Eventually Todd reaches the top, and all but collapses, he falls to a knee and for the first time his grip on Anette’s soul slips, and she falls away from him. Landing on the ground.
He reaches out for her, but someone gets there first. Another hand reaches out, and helps this elderly woman off the ground, helps her get to her feet. Anette gasps, it’s Charles. The pair of them throw their arms around each other. Anette tells Charles that she’s missed him so much, and she has so much to tell him. Charles nods. Todd watches a soft smile on his face. A delicate hand touches Todd’s shoulder, and pulls him easily to his feet. A figure; we never see exactly what it looks like, leans down, whispering in Todd’s ear that he’s done well, and that Anette will be well taken care of here. That she will spend an eternity with her loved ones. Todd looks back over to her, she’s surrounded by a sea of people. Todd nods, and smiles. The figure behind him tells him that while he has done good in bringing Anette here, this is not his place, and he must leave. Todd nods, he knew this would be the case.
Todd gets about six steps down the stairway before he is stopped by someone grabbing his shoulder again. He turns around, and Anette is standing behind him. She gives him a big hug and leads him back up the stairs, he should stay, she says. Get to know the family. Todd tries to tell her that he can’t stay, but she won’t hear it. She leads him up into the crowd of people and begins introducing him to long dead relatives of hers, all of whom give him skeptical looks when she introduces him as her grandson.
The mysterious figure appears next to Todd again and tells him once more he must leave, Todd opens his mouth to answer but Anette cuts him off. Nonsense, she tells the figure. IF she’s gonna stay here forever her grandson will be welcome to visit her. She and the figure stare at each other for a moment. The figure eventually sighs and looks away, the figure asks Todd if she’s always like this. Todd just shrugs and smiles, allowing Anette to lead him through a pair of pearly gates, she’s already talking about how much cake they’ll need to feed all of these relatives.
P.S. Honey is a Good Dog and gets to go, too.
the last lines of the show:
demon: you’re not blind here – but you’re not surprised. when…?
anette: oh, toddy, don’t be silly, my biological grandson’s not twelve feet tall and doesn’t scorch the furniture when he sneezes. i’ve known for ages.
demon: then why?
anette: you wouldn’t have stayed if you weren’t lonely too.
demon: you… you don’t have to keep calling me your grandson.
anette: nonsense! adopted children are just as real. now quit sniffling, you silly boy, and let’s go bake a cake. honey, heel!
honey: W̝̽̂̿͂͝Ọ̮̹̲̪̋ͦͅO̸̘͔̬͊F̜̫͙̟͕͖̙̋ͫ͌͗
that addition is a+ 🙂
THE ONLY ENDING I WILL EVER ACCEPT FOR THIS
Every time this post shows up on my dash, it gets better (and more heart wrenching. Y’all! Stop cutting the onions okay?!).
If ever don’t reblogging this, I’m either dead, dying, or buried under cat.
This is why I love Tumblr so much! Thank you all for collaborating on this prompt and turning it into something beautiful ❤
Shout out to my Arabic teacher that looked at us yesterday mid-lesson and said, “I’m worried. You all look exhausted and depressed.”
Of we were all like, “Oh yeah we’re dead inside, you haven’t noticed?”
And he snapped shut the textbook, threw up his hands and said, “That’s not healthy! No more vocab! Time for dancing!”
And he taught us a dance from Iraq and we danced instead of doing vocab. We didn’t stop dancing until he saw all of us laughing and was satisfied that we were all feeling better. It was perhaps the coolest, most kind-hearted thing I’ve ever seen a college instructor do.
Tony hates public appearances, they’re all fake pr crap but SESAME STREET?!
Sesame Street didn’t think they’d get him but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?
Tony showed up beaming, he was so fucking happy. He dropped them enough money to run for a year.
He loves Sesame Street. He loves Bill Nye. He plays a recurring role as himself on Cyber Chase.
He appears for free on any kids’ science show that will have him because he knows that will boost their ratings and get kids to watch.
Tony donates to underfunded schools.
Tony unironically judges science fairs.
TONY LOVES SCIENCE AND WANTS EVERYONE ELSE TO LOVE IT TOO
so when Wakanda opens it’s borders? When he meets Shuri?
He pulls her aside and says ‘I know this tv show that you should be on. They’ll love you there.’
Tony on Sesame Street needs to be canon
So many of the Avengers and associates ended up on the show that Tony just paid the production costs for their own spinoff. The Assisters™ solve all the problems they encounter with knowledge. Super-Grover becomes an honorary member of the Assisters immediately. Clint cries when he first meets his Muppet counterpart. Peter almost exclusively wears every but of BugBoy merch he can find.
IMPORTANT: Is Clint’s counterpart deaf?
Obviously Eagle-eye is deaf. He and his dog Lucky have a regular ASL segment.
Director Snarky only has one eye, which is why his trench coat gets stuck in things so often (depth perception issues, you know) but luckily his friend Agent Molehill is always willing to lend a hand.
Mary Molehill’s segments are mostly about taking big jobs and breaking them down so they’re manageable. She shows different ways to do the same jobs, too because not all methods work for all people.
Agent Coldson has some scars from an accident that happened a while ago. Most if the time he’s the one helping everybody else but sometimes his ptsd makes things hard for him and his friends, both in the Assisters and at S.H.E.L.L. have to make sure they help in the right way.
S.H.E.L.L., of course, is the acronym for Someone Helping Everybody Lots & Lots. Agent Coldson explained it when he was also explaining about acronyms.
I need this to be real.
Ok I love this so much
Okay but we need a few side segments that don’t happen very often but people get excited for anyway.
Poki is the well known local trickster, playing mostly childish pranks on everyone, but will occasionally turn to full on scemes that get nearly the entire cast involved. Usually, though, he’ll hide something that belongs to one of the others and force them to look for it. Said person will then ask a child for help, who will of course suggest places it is clearly not when it’s hidden in plain sight, until they eventually find. Poki will say that the person somehow cheated and vow to return with a better hiding hiding place next time. Pokis only has two weaknesses: giving him a kiss and or hug or… calling his mother, Trigga.
Dr. Strain will more often than not be the one stitching up the heros when they get an ‘ouchy or tear’. Literally stitching them up as he shows the proper way to stitch and sew things together while also reminding children not to use sharp needles without adult supervision.
Track Dancer, a mysterious ally hailing from the land of Wadona where everyone is some form of cat, will show you how to dance fight like a pro. He also explains why violence is not always the answer and how we should use our words and not our fists, but to remeber that words can be just has harmful when not used properly.
Shari, a proud lioness also from Wadona, will show you wicked cool science experiments and what tools to use to execute them properly. Safety is her #1 priority, though, and will not hesitate to call you out if she sees you in sandals or walking around without safety glasses anywhere near her laboratory.
Tucky Tarnes is an expert at doing his chores. He folds his clothes neatly. He makes his bed every morning after breakfast, making sure to tuck in those silly corners and more often than not wrestling with them to stay in place. Washing the dishes after he dirties them. And cleaning up his messes. Only when all his chores are done will he go outside and play with his best friend, Beaver Bogers.
Meggy Marter is the kindly old veteran of the group. She’s quick to give out helpful advice and is always offering milk and cookies to her visitors, but don’t let this fool you. She’ll happily kick butt and take names (in a kid friendly way of course) if it means getting the job done. And don’t you dare try to tell her that this is a mans problem and should be handled as such. You’ll never be allowed to eat her milk and cookies again.
It got better….I heart you!!
Shari: And we NEVER EVER touch a beaker when it is hot. That would bad and make Mommy and Daddy very sad.
******
Dr. Strain: Be sure to keep the stitching as straight as possible to prevent the stuffing from falling out. And try to keep the thread from bunching and tangling together or you may be forced to start all over again.
*Bhor come running by in a tangle of thread as he flails his arms before tripping and flying off screen followed by the sounds of banging trashcans and other various metals* *Momir comes flying by a second later*
Dr. Strain: *deep sigh of exasperation as be looks at the floor and shacks his head*
******
Eagle-Eye: Now pay close attention to this one, kids. It can be a bit tricky, but you all seem smart, so I’m sure you’ll all get the hang of it in no time! Right, Lucky?
Lucky: Bark bark! *pants excitedly and bounces up and down while the interpretor shows the audience how to sign the words*
******
Sony: Hey, has anyone seen my wrench?
*everyone thinks to themselves before shaking their heads and saying, ‘No. Nope. Not me. Nuh-uh.’ and so on*
Sony: That’s weird. I can’t find it anywhere.
Mary: Well, where do you remember having it last?
Sony: Just a few minutes ago, but now it’s gone!
Tucky: Don’t worry! We’ll help you find it!
Everyone: Yeah! Com’on! Let’s go! I think I saw it in a birthday cake!
*Only Bhor and Sony remain*
Bhor: I find it most odd that your weapon for fixing broken machinations has gone missing, Sony.
Sony: Me too, Bhor. It’s almost as if it disappeared by mag-. *a mischievous giggle is heard off screen* What was that?
Bhor: *Sony and Bhor look all around in confusion to find the source* I do not know. It seems to have stopped. *giggle is heard again and continues as the two look around more* Wait! I would know that laughter anywhere! There is only one person it can be!
Sony: GASP! Voldemort!
Bhor: Yes, it i-. *turns to Sony with an exasperated face before facing the camera again* There is only one other person it can be!
Sony: Wait… You don’t mean….
Bhor: I fear so. It is-!
*Thunder claps as a bright puff of smoke billows up from the floor. Out of the flash steps none other than Poki* *Sony and Bhor jump at each other and shake in each others arms as this all happens*
Poki: Behold! It is *cough* none other than *cough cough* I, Po- *cough cough* ki, Prince of Glassgaurd and God of-! *starts coughing uncontrollably* *Bhor and Sony look at each other in question* Pardon me, one moment. *conjures up a glass of water and drinks it quickly* *sighs in relief once done* Sorry for that. I have asked them to tone down the smoke but they never listen. Now where was I? Oh, yes! Prince of Glassgaurd and God of Mischief and Lies!
wupacing 