So A Witch Curses A Princess That Wronged Her But

so a witch curses a princess that wronged her but…

aqua © @parfaitperi

garden golem 

If your cat stares at the wall

Call their name. They always know what you’re saying, trust me.

If they do not respond (i.e look at you), check for a bug. Cats can speak to bugs. They’ll try to eat the bad ones.

If there is no bug, try and remember if your house has a Thing. The knowledge will be covered, it doesn’t want you to know. It’s in your mind if you look.

Do not pet the cat. They are trying to protect you. Let them do so.

The cat will keep you safe. They love you.

If the cat turns to look at you, and does not blink, the Thing has moved. Walk calmly out of the room. Leave the cat.

Remember #5. The Thing wants you to forget.

If this behavior continues for more than two hours, leave the house.

Burn it. Start upstairs, light a curtain near an outlet.

Your cat will be waiting by the door, as always. Take them with you.

Contact HGK477. They will know what to do. The Thing will know when they are coming and flee.

If HGK477 can’t find the Thing, that’s good. It won’t bother you again.

If your cat continues to stare, always seemingly at something right behind you, leave your hometown and never look back. Keep no ties with humans or Things. Just keep your cat.

HGK477 is not liable if the fire spreads. Cast wards for your neighbors’ protection and to make it appear to be an electrical fire.

More guides

For making a deal with a demon

General information regarding the befriending of a star

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You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

I AM ABSOLUTELY LOSING MY MIND AFTER READING THIS PLEASE READ IT

Local Rusałka said sapphic rights. Have a good summer this year 💮 💮

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