Fake Pockets: A How To

「No one can know, no one can know. But I love you so deeply it hurts.」

Theres no such thing as saying yeet to much

My kid brother has started saying ‘Yeet’, our generation is a success!

Thank you Smoliv anon for awakening my pokemon hyperfixation~

I got the perfect trainer for the lil guy

I'll be honest Andrew is no one's favorite character

-=- Andrew Protection Squad -=-

solomon

You fool thats a gateway to the underworld

A tree on fire after a lightning strike

Diavolo was def the kid that got braces lmao😂😂😂

Like the kind thats metal and he had to wear that until he hit adult age. His toofers just wont budge and he never gets them adjusted on time. He avoids the dentists like they are made of pickes lmao

Omg 😂😂

Barbatos dragging Diavolo with that gaudy headgear to the dentist and they're like "Christ dude you were supposed to come here a century ago we gotta start all over"

Now Diavolo wears Invisalign and he's so embarrassed about taking it out in front of MC for the first time but Barbatos watches him like a hawk and will not let him take one bite of his meal until he removes them 😂😂

Remembered I had this

michael ur next <3

Veil

So I completely forgot to post this months ago… but its almost Halloween again so? The timing is better now. Enjoy! Don’t forget to reblog!

—-

Demons weren’t meant to be confined to the tight space of a van, and especially not for hours on end. At least that’s how Matthew tried to convince Mika to pull over so he could stretch and get Suzu off his bladder.

In the trunk, wedged between luggage, Suzu and Damien had sprawled over Matthew’s lap while still technically wearing their seatbelts. They were sleeping soundly, while Matthew was stuck as their prisoner with his hoodie over his face like a blanket and his knees pressed together. In the back seat, Erik, Naomi, Andrew, and Sam had all managed to squeeze in together with the brothers in the middle and their lovers at their side. Andrew and Erik were sharing earbuds, and Sam and Naomi were curled up together, humming soft little notes to each other. James had shotgun with a number of books at his feet, some literature and some puzzle books with sudoku and pictographs. He had removed his glasses and let his eyes rest.

Mika was at the wheel, GPS hooked up, radio murmuring away at the lowest volume, bags under her eyes weighing her down but never stopping her. Her mind had passed the tired threshold into autopilot, locking her gaze on the interstate in her headlights, sole job of staying in her lane and looking out for the next exit.

Seven hours, from midday glare in her eyes to the sunset throwing violet and amber watercolors over the clouds, to midnight. Seven hours on the road. She was dead inside.

In one mile, stay in the left two lanes and take Exit 108 onto I-90 East

She tapped her turn signal with her pinkie and glanced up at her rear view. No headlights anywhere near them. She glided over two lanes.

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