Bread Toss

Sky Factor AU

What if Geoff got pissed at everyone for fucking with his chickens or something so he finds a way to make a curse and basically now they’re all chickens except for him.

  • There’s a sleek gold one, with one giant feather sticking out of his head that squawks so loud, so it’s obviously Gavin. He walks like he’s in slow motion but runs “fast as dicks” when soggy bread is tossed his way.

  • The fluffy red one with a tiny face that makes him look angry is always shouting in a way that sounds like a New Jersey “Ey” so it’s Michael and he’s just always wandering under Geoff’s feet. He won’t stop pecking at Gavin and he keeps eating weird things.

  • Jeremy looks like an orange chicken that fell in purple paint and he’s really tiny and his tiny noises sound like Haps and Geoff has to clean up the feathers he keeps losing and feeding him different food so he doesn’t lose all of them. He doesn’t try to fly and will shout for Geoff if he climbs onto something to high.

  • Jack is a big bright orange chicken with so many feathers he looks like a ball. He keeps eating all the corn though but will break up the Lads fighting before a wing gets bent. He likes to sit on Geoff’s shoulder and it sounds like he’s laughing all the time. Once Geoff stubbed his toe and Jack came running in at high speeds to hug him.

  • “I asked for chickens what am I doing with this fucking creepy ass owl?”

It’s Ryan.

kittrook  asked:

heLLO! I'm just wondering... is there a possibly that you can cook up some one shot that features kit, ty and a swan?


it was a hot afternoon in california, and kit couldn’t see. not because of the blinding sun (blinding son haha), but because ty was covering kit’s eyes as they walked outside. 

“so… where exactly are we going?” asked kit.

ty smiled and kissed the back of kit’s head, where he stood behind him, each hand covering one eye. “that you will find out shortly.”

“i swear, if you and livvy planned something-”

ty sighed, “we didn’t! i promise.” 

kit placed his hands on top of ty’s slender fingers as they continued to walk, until they stopped. ty removed his hands and kit saw a picnic before him- a blanket with a bunch of desserts and drinks on top of it. kit turned to face ty, who was smiling nervously. 

“do you like it?” asked ty anxiously, opening and closing his hands. 

kit took ty’s face in his hands and gave him a kiss of reassurance. “i love it. i love you.” 

ty smiled in relaxation and kissed kit, who gasped because it was so sudden. kit took a step back during the kiss, pulling ty’s shirt so he could be closer, but of course, kit slipped on the blanket, falling back onto it, pulling ty down with him. ty fell on top of kit, and kit grinned, kissing ty again. 

as things started to get heated, kit heard a noise while ty’s face was buried in his neck, a noise that ignited something bad in his stomach. kit kept hearing it and became distracted, making ty stop. he lifted his head above kit, lips puffy and hair messy, a purple mark forming on his collar bone underneath his grey shirt. “what’s wrong?” his grey eyes were concerned.

“i, uh… i just heard something. sorry.” the sound sounded again. kit looked around, not getting a good view because he was stuck on his back. ty looked around into the lake. 

“you mean that swan?” asked ty, pointing to the water. he looked excited to see an animal.

kit shot up. “it’s a fucking swan?” ty tumbled back. 

ty beckoned the swan forward, tossing it bread. it swam closer to the shore and kit shrieked. “fuck no!” he got up and ran a few feet away. ty looked at kit curiously as he walked next to him. “you don’t like swans?” 

kit shook his head, staring at the white bird with a weirdly long neck. 

ty laughed. “you’re such a herondale.”

“what does that mean?”

“one of your ancestors, will herondale, he was terrified of ducks. jem carstairs told us. they used to be parabatai.”

“ducks give me cold feet, too.” 

“but swans are pretty,” argued ty, tossing it some more bread. 

“i’m prettier,” replied kit, chin up as he turned and walked back to the institute. “not today, satan!”

anonymous asked:

What do you think Jesus meant by turning away the woman who asked him to heal her daughter by saying; "it is not fair to give the children's food to the dogs" (Matthew 15:21)?

I may get some backlash for this, but I don’t believe that Jesus was inherently perfect. I believe that Jesus was very much a prejudiced individual (just like every human being is conditioned to be) but became Christ over time. 

I know for certain that these weren’t the exact words of Jesus (since the canon gospels were written decades after his death), nonetheless, I think that Matthew 15:21-28 illustrates his development quite well. 

Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to Him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is suffering terribly from demon-possession.”

Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to Him and urged Him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.” 

He answered, “I was only sent to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The woman came and knelt before Him. “Lord, help me!” she said. 

He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” 

Jesus was being xenophobic. This woman was not dealing with it, and called him out:

“Yes, Lord,” she said, “but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Then Jesus answered, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed from that very hour.

No, I don’t believe Jesus was testing her; I believe that Jesus was wrong. However, once he realized that this woman’s protests were aligned with God, he corrected his behavior. 

This passage contains something we all should consider:

In order for us to become fully Children of Humanity, our behavior must be challenged, we must listen to our “undesirables,” and we must recognize our own ignorance and work towards overcoming partiality. 

anonymous asked:

Maybe rfa reacting to Mc talking to herself?? Like late at night? If that's doable ^^

Hello there! Thank you for the request! You did not deserve to wait this long though >.<


  • He would find you in the kitchen late at night getting a snack
  • You were talking to yourself about what would taste better on ice cream as you look in the cabinet
  • He rested on the wall and watched you
  • Than you asked yourself whether baking soda or baking powder reacted with vinegar
  • “What the hell is vinegar made out of?”
  • He snickered and blew his cover
  • “Hey you’re up. You want some ice cream?” you asked.
  • He smiled and walked over. “Sounds good.”
  • Not wanting to make you feel self-conscious he didn’t mention about you talking to yourself
  • He thought it was really cute how random and honest your thoughts were
  • “Hey,” you asked passing the chocolate syrup.
  • “Yeah?”
  • “Do you know what vinegar is made of?”
  • He started to chuckle again.
  • “What?” you asked confused.
  • “Geez, I love you so much,” the smile stuck as he pecked you on the lips.
  • “That doesn’t explain any of my questions!”


  • He was getting ready for bed when he heard you say something from the bathroom.
  • “Babe?” he called. “Were you talking to me?”
  • No response but he could still hear your voice.
  • He walked over to the closed bathroom door and listened for any queue that you were on the phone or calling him.
  • “—there’s the grocery store after work. We’re talking fruit, we’re talking veggies, and mama needs some proteins.”
  • What the hell? He smirked. Was she talking about her shopping list?
  • “Oh god, I wonder if that cashier guy is there. He always stares at my chest.”
  • What?! This is the first he heard about that.
  • At this point Zen was eavesdropping but he couldn’t stop now.
  • “But if I go to the other one it’s like fifteen minutes more and Lord knows I ain’t got time for that.”
  • The sink turned on for a few seconds.
  • “I wonder if Zen’s in bed yet…”
  • The door opened to reveal Zen pressed up against it.
  • “What are you doing?”
  • He straightened up. “I thought you called me but I guess you were on the phone?”
  • “Oh , I was just talking to myself.”
  • “You do that too?” Zen asked.
  • “So you don’t think it’s weird?” You asked. 
  • “No way,” he smiled. “I thought you would think it was unattractive so I tried to hide it.”
  • You had to smile back. “I’ve caught you doing it a few times and thought it was so great. Your especially handsome when you model in the mirror and talk to yourself,” you giggled at the memory.
  • His happiness overflowed as he hugged you tight and swung you around. Placing kisses all over your face as you laughed.


  • She woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom but found that you weren’t in bed.
  • But she could hear your voice clearly and followed the sound.
  • She found you sitting at the kitchen table staring at your laptop and…talking to it?
  • “Look, it’s not you. You’re great and you’ve been with me since the beginning.”
  • Was she Skyping with someone?
  • She continued to talk but Jaehee didn’t hear a voice talk back.
  • “I mean do you think I want you to die? No! I don’t! But it’s the only thing that would make sense.”
  • What was going on?
  • Jaehee stepped closer. “Hey, is everything ok?”
  • You put a hand over your heart. “You scared me.”
  • “I was just making sure everything was ok since you weren’t in bed.”
  • “Yeah, sorry. I just woke up and had this sudden inspiration to write.”
  • Oh, you were talking about the new book you were writing.
  • “So the dying part?” she inquired.
  • You sighed. “My main characters best friend Lin. It only makes sense to have him sacrifice himself for his friend for the plot but I can’t seem to let him go so easily.”
  • Jaehee didn’t quite understand but patted you on the shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be ok.”
  • It was the best she had.
  • You nodded. “I’ll take a break for tonight. Thanks baby.”
  • Jaehee had never seen someone talk aloud like that so passionately to themselves, or an imaginary character at that.
  • She decided maybe it was something writers did and maybe it was best not to interrupt them.


  • He finished work late in his study and headed to bed.
  • Only to find that you were also up late and talking to yourself?
  • “And what was her response?”
  • You put a hand on your hip and waved your other hand around, imitating someone you knew with a high pitch voice.
  • Oh sweetheart, the clocks ticking. You better get married so your mother can have grandchildren, poor dear.
  • You threw a pillow on the bed. “Cry me a river and drown in it you old hag.”
  • You paused. “Damn, I should have told her that too.”
  • “Agreed,” Jumin commented.
  • You turned around. “You and Elizabeth have got to stop walking so lightly. It’s not good for my heart.”
  • He smirked. “Do you often talk to yourself?”
  • You weren’t expecting that. “Well yeah, most people do.”
  • “Really?”
  • “Wait, have you never talked to yourself out loud?”
  • “No, it seemed odd when I could just organize my thoughts.”
  • “People talk out loud to do that too. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you hear the words leave your mouth. Plus if it’s too quiet it helps to talk out loud or do your own private comedy show to express how you’re feeling.”
  • He seemed thoughtful about it. “That seems rational.”
  • “Give it a try once in a while. Let’s practice, even though I’m here, just blurt out whatever you’re thinking to yourself.”
  • Jumin thought about what he had been thinking but the pause got him scolded. 
  • “Eh! Just talk out what you’re thinking.”
  • “Ok, well I was thinking that this was a strange way of expression…”
  • “Aha?” you said expectantly.
  • “But you are very sexy when you get riled up.”
  • “Oh…well than,” you swallowed.
  • He got closer. “The way you get flustered when I merely compliment you gets me excited.”
  • “I think that’s enough practice,” you say not being able take his unwavering gaze and honesty.
  • His hands wrapped around your waist to keep you close. “I think I prefer to share my thoughts out loud with you rather then myself.”
  • You tilted your chin up, “Is that so?”
  • “Mhm,” he hummed as he closed in for a passionate kiss.


  • He checked on you every once in a while through the security camera.
  • He tried to distance himself but all he did was wonder what you were up to.
  • How you were feeling…
  • At that thought he checked the camera and saw your hands being thrown in the air dramatically.
  • He tuned in and turned up the volume to make sure everything was ok.
  • “Can’t I at least get an answer to my questions,” you say putting away groceries.
  • “Honestly why do I have to like him. Sometimes I want to throw this phone right out the window.”
  • The bread was tossed onto the counter.
  • Saeyoung waited anxiously for the who. Was it him? Had she listened to him and found someone else?
  • “If you think you’re all that and a bag of Honey Buddah chips, 707, you got another thing coming!”
  • He smirked.
  • There was some sort of relief knowing that MC hadn’t changed their mind after all.
  • “You let me in, you kick me out. Let me in, kick me out. In, out, in, out.”
  • Yeah MC was still mad at him for sure.
  • You paused holding a bag of chips. “But I’ll be damned if I’ll give up. You hear that Mr. Acts-like-he-has no-feelings!  Challenge accepted!”
  • He chuckled and sat back in his chair. Even when MC talked to themselves it was honest.
  • Maybe that’s why he caught himself telling them feelings he thought he had locked up long ago.
  • It’s not like he could stop MC from fighting.
  • Plus he did like a challenge after all.
  • It was a question of whether he would come to regret it or not.

anonymous asked:

Your fics are my favourite!! I re-read First We Feast like every other month, and I really enjoyed the drabbles you recently posted! Hope you have lots of fun and rest on your vacation :) Not a fic request (itd be awesome no lie but not if you dont want!) but i have this au idea of lone victor!peeta about to be prostituted in the capitol and haymitch offers to pay katniss to take his virginity first but shes still a virgin too and etc. and I just wanted to tell you haha love you stay awesome :)

Thank you so much. Here you go, I tried!

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Creepypasta #1267: Cackling Grackles

Length: Super long

Nobody likes being the new kid. They like it even less when they move from a nice, familiar suburb to the backwoods of rural Florida. It’s hot, it’s humid, and it doesn’t look like it’s progressed much since the 1960s. After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom decided she wanted to “get back to her roots” and dragged me five hours south to settle in her childhood hometown.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t done it mid school year and I’d had time to settle in and adjust. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had some kind of chance to get to know some of the other kids. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t a giant nerd with an obsession for fantasy and role playing games at only ten years old (thanks for that, Dad).

I pretty much had a bullseye painted on my tie-dyed backpack.

Back home, I hadn’t had many friends, but the ones I did have were the best. We were a ragtag handful of kids who shared an interest in geeky things and spent our days playing pretend and convincing our parents that old animated films like The Last Unicorn and The Hobbit wouldn’t give us nightmares. Here, no one showed much interest in befriending an awkward little girl who spoke softly and kept her nose buried in a book.

I was lucky, I guess; I wasn’t really bullied, more so just excluded. It was honestly my fault as much as anyone else’s, I didn’t exactly go out of my way to talk to people, but I didn’t really know how. Before, I’d grown up with the same kids and we’d just naturally come together. Now, I felt like I’d be forcing my presence on people who didn’t want me there. It was a lonely time.

“It’ll get better, Janey.” Mom assured me.

Easy enough for her to say. She had resparked old friendships and was constantly going out and about and leaving me home alone to wallow in self pity. When I told her I didn’t like being by myself, she just laughed and said it was a small, safe town, nothing to worry about, and then she’d be flouncing out the door to join her girlfriends at the bar.

When you’re alone so much, you start looking for companionship anywhere you can get it. I didn’t even realize I was doing it at first.

I’d need to get out of the house, which felt small and dark, so I’d drag a lawn chair from the porch and sit in the backward with an umbrella and a book and I would try to read. I didn’t get very far though, because where I was sitting was close to the empty lot behind our house, where a flock of grackles, small black and brown birds, had made their home.

The first day I was out there, they cawed harshly and fluttered between trees and shrubs, watching me warily with their shiny black eyes. There was something disconcerting about being stared down by a large group of birds and I quickly retreated inside. The next day, when I tried again, they were so bold as to dive bomb me. I could hear their beaks and claws scraping across the top of my umbrella and I dropped my book to run. They chased me all the way to the door.

It was almost a week before I was brave enough to face them again, but this time, I came armed with a loaf of bread. As soon as I stepped into the yard, I could hear their cries starting to ripple down the tree tops. They stared at me, I stared at them, both parties tense and still.

“Ok, I don’t wanna bother you and you don’t wanna be bothered,” I said in what i thought was a diplomatic tone. “I’m just gonna sit here and read my book and you guys can have all this bread, alright?”

I tossed a few whole slices at the property line; a peace offering to my territorial tormentors. Their heads turned this way and that as I slowly took my seat in the lawn chair. One dove at me, and then a second, but I held my ground (and my breath) and they flew back to the branches overhead, where they ruffled their feathers grumpily.

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Waste Not

Fendrel was born into a poor family. They barely scraped by in their little town, and he remembers well his mothers scoldings.

“Waste not.” She would say with a smack on his hand when she found him tossing bread crust or fruit skins away. She was always mindful of using everything at her disposal and never wasting what could be used.

Fendrel loved his mother very much, and when sickness took her from him one winter, he knew he needed a change of scenery. Being only a young teenager, the road was difficult. A long journey west took him to a beautiful city where he could start anew. He began begging, but quickly caught the eye of an old wizard. The old man insisted that Fendrel had a hidden arcane talent just waiting to be released.

By the gods was he right, Fendrel quickly began to master the ways of the wizard in a few short years. He took every opportunity to copy spells from books and other wizards’ notes, learning spells from all sects of the arcane. He was truely starting to prove himself to his master.

Then the war began.

Every able-bodied young man in the city was called upon to fight, and a refusal would be imprisonment. Fendrel did not want to go, but he knew that he must. So he set out with a troop of soldiers who he would learn to call his family during  years of deployment.

Tragedy struck one afternoon as his squad was ambushed by orcs. Fendrel was knocked unconcious and tumbled down into a ditch before to much fighting even took place. When he awoke, he found the bodies. His friends. His brothers. His sisters. His companions. His family. They were all dead. The orcs had shown no mercy. Why then did he live? Why could he have not died honorably alongside those he cared so much for.

He would kill the orcs. He had to. Revenge was all that was on his mind. Fendrel was not so strong though, he was not proficient in the ways of blades. His friends were. Were. Not anymore. They still had their armor, still had their blades, but Fendrel could make no use of this. Then it dawned on him.

Fendrel stepped forward, tears running down his cheeks as he clutched his spellbook with one hand and raised his other arm, fingers trembling. He began chanting, starting the spell. A black mist poured from his sleeve, spilling onto the ground and enveloping the corpses of his allies. The bodies began to move then, rising and looking to Fendrel for command.

His head turned. He could see the fires of the orc camp on ridge in the distance, burning brightly in the night. Looking back to his undead companions, only two words escaped his lips.

“Waste not.”


@mr-lazzywolf, hopefully this works for you. It is hard to make a good-aligned necromancer because of the evil implications of the act, but I love the concept alot. That’s why I went with the whole ‘no need to waste whats available’ approach. Feel free to let me know what you think.

Cackling Grackles

Nobody likes being the new kid. They like it even less when they move from a nice, familiar suburb to the backwoods of rural Florida. It’s hot, it’s humid, and it doesn’t look like it’s progressed much since the 1960s. After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom decided she wanted to “get back to her roots” and dragged me five hours south to settle in her childhood hometown.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t done it mid school year and I’d had time to settle in and adjust. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had some kind of chance to get to know some of the other kids. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t a giant nerd with an obsession for fantasy and role playing games at only ten years old (thanks for that, Dad).

I pretty much had a bullseye painted on my tie-dyed backpack.

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Prompt: Newt is a food Horder

Since Newt travels so much. He doesn’t really have all that much money. The money he does have goes towards buying meat and other assorted feed for his creatures instead of for himself. So when he is offered free food, He constantly tucks it away.

Samples. He takes them all. Dinner bread, tosses it into his case. Friends let him board, left overs dissappear. Baked good and catered lunches, gone.

He tries to make the food last as long as possible, so he only eats the bare minimum to keep him healthy. Even then he purposely skips days.

Percival recognized this kind of behavior. He remembered a boy that shared his dorm that came from a family less fortunate than his own. He remembered stashed he had under his bed. Sneaking food into his pocket when he thought no one was looking. Behavior that spoke of long periods of time with little food.

So when Newt starts to inhabit the empty office for himself. Graves starts leaving food in his office and tries to get him to stop hording the food and start eating it. Learning all about the different characteristics of each beast, and making several observations on their protector. After all even a protector/Nurturer needs care themselves.

My Unexpected Muse (Part 2)

Part 2 of 3

           After my shower I stepped into the kitchen.  I saw Pennywise sitting at the dinner table with a newspaper unfolded in front of him, reading the comics.  He still had his makeup on despite being in pajamas that looked too small for him.  His orange hair looked like a fiery mess.  I couldn’t help but to giggle as I made my way to the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup and tossing some bread into the toaster.

           “Good morning.”  I set my coffee cup on the table across from him. “Sleep well?”

           “I felt like I floated the whole night.”  He smiled sleepily at me then went back to the comic strip.  “I’ve seen your signature a couple of times.  Did you do these?”

           “I did.  I only draw them.  They give me a little script and I follow with it.”  Once my toast was done I spread some butter on top of it. I sat down in the spare chair, taking a sip of my coffee.  “I have to drop off some final strips and pick up some scripts but then I’ll be back. Unless you have plans then I’ll see you when you get back.”  I began to munch on my toast and he peaked over the paper.

           “I have some errands to maim through but afterwards I’ll be back.”  He gave a soft shrug.  “Afterwards, I can be your muse again.”  He flashed me a smile and I swear I had seen some fangs.  I hadn’t enough coffee yet so I just chalked it up as me still being tired.

           “Sounds like a plan.” I quickly finished through my coffee and toast.  Once I was dressed we said good bye and I went out the door.

           I wasn’t at the newspaper office long.  They were always good for getting everything for me together since they knew I preferred to work from home.  While walking back home some children ran past me, screaming about some clown.  I rolled my eyes and made it back.  I set the folders I had picked up down on my desk and went to look for my camera.  Thankfully, I found it in my closet that I had turned into a photo processing room.  When I left the room, I ran into Pennywise.

           “Oh jeeze, I’m so sorry.” I frantically said as I bumped back into the door.  “I didn’t hear you come back.”  I looked up at him and he grinned.  He was back in his costume and his hair was styled again.

           “I should have said something.  My apologies.”  He gave a small bow and his eyes met the camera.  “Is it time for my modelling career to take off?”  He chuckled and I couldn’t help but to giggle as well.

           “You’ll be famous darling!”  I gave my best snobby accent as we went to the living room and beginning to clear enough space.  

           Thankfully with him helping it got done a lot quicker. He was incredibly strong which was odd with how lanky he was.  Once we had enough space I began to do pose after pose, taking pictures of each time I moved him.  He was enjoying himself and even began to give me some silly poses.  I guess he was also a sort of a contortionist in his circus as he bended in odd ways.  Some of them I couldn’t help but to giggle.  I smiled as I realized this was the most fun I had since moving to this town.

           “Ya know,” I examined some of the new pictures as he stood up from a bent post, “those bendy positions are going to be great for some of my monster art.”

            “You draw monsters as well?”  He came over to me to look at the photos as well.

            “Oh definitely.  They’re my favorite to do.  You can draw anything with them.  Big teeth, claws, spikes.  Everything.” I went over to my book case and pulled out a large binder.  I went back over to him and began to flip through it to show him the monstrous figures I had done over the years.

           “How very spooky.”  He grinned as he looked at them all.  “If you ever met a real monster would you want to draw them?”

           “Hm,” the thought wondered in my head a little, “well if they were real I would love to.  So long as they don’t kill me I suppose.”

           “Oooo!”  His voice went to a higher pitch and when I turned around he was picking up the camera.  “Can we take some pictures together possibly?  I wouldn’t mind some photos for the circus trip to remind me of today.’  He gave me a cheeky smile and I couldn’t help but giggle.

           “Yeah we can.”  I set my binder down and found my extendable tripod.

           For the next hour we took so many pictures together.  The typical selfie poses to me piggybacking on his back and then him holding me in bridal pose while I pretended to faint.  At one point we were taking some monster poses where I was on my back on the floor and he was posed over me with the camera some feet away on a timer.  There was something in me that found this sort of pose as a sort of an adrenaline rush.  I felt my core tingle and I was sort of thankful when I knew the camera would finish.  Once the camera took several pictures we couldn’t help but giggle once we were able to move from our positions.  He helped me back onto my feet and I went over to the camera to look at the photos.

           “This has been very fun. Who knew humans could be so exciting in different ways.”  With ease he moved the couch back to where it was.

           “What?”  I looked over at him with so much confusion now. Humans?  Wasn’t he a human?

           “Oops.  Sometimes things just slip.”  He came right up to me and placed a clawed hand on my face.  “How does it feel to meet a real monster?”  He voice was low and gravely.  His mouth twisted into a fang filled grin.  Everything in me wanted to scream but everything in me shut down.  “Don’t worry though little one.  I won’t hurt you.  You’re mine now.”  He dragged a claw across my cheek and I let out a whimper as I felt it cut my skin. “I have somethings I have to do so I’ll be back later little one.’  And like that he vanished while cackling.  What on Earth did I just get myself into?

@fuck-the-clown @victhegay @fandomscooter @booklover2929 @dirtydaddywiseslut @red-balloons-and-popcorn

James and Lily live...

Snapshots of the Potter Family if James and Lily hadn’t died:

  • The Potter house is huge and warm, with red brick walls and giant windows. Sunlight streams through the open curtains, and tiny specks of dust hang suspended in the warm glow of the beams.
  • The color of the walls are a slightly different shade in every room, ranging from burgundy, to gold, to chestnut, to white, and to scarlet (and just about every color in between).
  • The coloring, of course, is a result of Lily’s multiple attempts to paint the house, but getting sidetracked partway through each time.
  • The floors are hardwood (with some tiling in the bathrooms) but they’re covered in a mismatched assortment of rugs.
  • Some are large and shaggy, other are small with pretty designs, and there’s a horrid olive-green one under the couch that no one really knows where it came from.
  • James thinks the rugs are charming, that they “bring character to the house.” Lily says that she hates them (but, in truth, she has a soft spot for the hazardous appearance of their house).
  • Their house is full of family pictures, and they also have a strange painting of a daffodil yellow clad wizard fighting a dragon (the wizard is awfully loud with a high-pitched voice, but the dragon is sweet and bashful).
  • Of course, there’s cat fur over everything (furniture, clothes, everything).
  • A patchwork pile of pillows covers every piece of furniture, and blankets can be found in every inch of the house (they’re warm and woolly, a mix of nice plaid ones and some chunky, misshapen ones that Lily knitted)
  • Outside, there’s a small garden, and it’s just as much of a palette of random colors as everything else they own. There’s a big yard and giant trees that Lily like to sit beneath and watch the leaves fall.
  • The yard and house alike are strewn with Harry’s toys.
  • Lily is constantly tripping over them, and James is constantly caught playing with them when he’s supposed to clean up.
  • Harry, of course, is a bubbly bundle of joy who never stops smiling. He wears hand-me-down glasses from James, and both of them have the crazy messy hair (sometimes, Lily thinks that Harry is her Husband’s clone)
  • And their life is full of joy and little happy things:
  • Lily and James take Harry to the pond to feed ducks. The sky is kind of cloudy, but it’s warm enough that they only need light jackets. Harry claps when he sees the birds, a smile breaking across his cheeks as ducklings follow their mother. Lily shows him how to toss them bread, and he copies her, laughing as he does so. James steals some of the bread because he’s hungry, and the duck-feeding adventure quickly turns into Lily throwing bread at him while he apologizes, and Harry almost wandering into the pond to catch a duck.
  • James teaches Harry quidditch at a young age, and Lily often catches the two of them wasting the entire day in the yard tossing the balls around and red-faced from exhaustion. Harry is a natural (just as James always hoped he would be), but unlike his father, he excels at being a seeker. James tries his best to convert his son to being a chaser, but fails miserably (aka, Harry accidentally throws the quaffle too hard and breaks his father’s nose).
  • Their family dinners are always loud and happy. The dinner is usually sort of burnt b/c Lily made it and she can’t cook at all (James tells her to use magic, but she refuses). They do more talking than eating. James and Lily are smiling and laughing, and Harry rambles on about something he read/saw/did that day. Sometimes, their cat jumps on the table (cue ensuing chaos). Other times, Sirius or Remus join them (when either visits, they help cook, and the food is drastically better). Then, the dinners turn louder and fill with more laughter, interspersed with stories of Hogwarts and mischief. The table is always a mess and the kitchen is always worse, but everyone is smiling too hard to care.
  • As mentioned above, the Potters own a cat. He’s a big fluffy thing with thick gray fur and a mushy face. James named him Elvendork despite Lily’s pleas for something different, but the name fits the cat perfectly. He’s big and fluffy and grouchy, and he’s a terrible menace: always jumping on the table, knocking things over, or sleeping on people’s heads (the Potters, of course, couldn’t love him more).
  • Harry’s first day of Hogwarts begins with chaos. They forget Harry’s owl the first time out of the house, and then have to return a second time because Lily realized that he was missing his glasses too. Their time at the station is sweet and short (if not a bit chaotic). It’s full of goodbyes, and checklists, and hair ruffling (”Dad! Stop it!”), and promises of mischief (”James, don’t encourage him!”), and the promise to write every day. Then, he’s off on the train and Lily and James are both waving and kissing (and Harry is hiding his face in embarrassment).
    • Also, even though he doesn’t have the scar, he still becomes friends with Ron and Hermione. Though they meet more through a: “Can I sit here?” “Yeah sure, cool rat by the way.” “It’s a hand-me-down.” “My cat can eat it if you want.” “What?!?” “Joking. Harry Potter.” “Ron Weasley.” (and then, of course, Hermione comes in asking about toads, and later in the school year they become friends by consoling her after she’s bullied, instead of the troll thing). And they’re friends through laughter, and standing up for each other, and quidditch, and stuff like that.
  • The Weasleys and the Potters quickly start to have holidays and dinners together. Which, ofc, only strengthens Harry and Ron’s friendship.
  • And James comes to every one of Harry’s quidditch games (lets pretend parents come to watch them) (and he gets a little too enthusiastic, but Lily’s too busy being split between cheering and laughing at his gold and red face to care).
  • Also: Christmases filled with warm smells and too much wrapping paper. And there are so many people and a ton of burnt cookies, and eggnog and laughter. There are snowball fights at midnight (always including the Potters, and often bringing in Sirius, Remus, some Weasleys, and Hermione). And the day is loud and exciting, but it always ends with Harry huddled up beneath a blanket, asleep with his glasses crooked and his hair everywhere. And James and Lily slow-dancing in front of the fire (usually to non-slow-dance songs) both of them with their eyes closed, and heads on each other’s shoulders.
  • And then there are the letters for Harry’s random detentions (for which James cheers and Lily scolds, but smiles fondly). There are trips to Diagon Alley where nothing but wandering is achieved, and Lily taking Harry to experience the muggle world.
  • There are impromptu family quidditch matches, where Harry and James are super competitive, and Lily can barely fly straight. Rules are abandoned and bludgers break windows, but no one cares b/c they’re happy.
  • And then there’s Ginny and Harry’s love for her. James’ teasing and Lily slapping him because, “you pined over a girl too, you know.” There’s her loud laugh and gleeful voice, her competitive personality, the confident way she talks, and how proud, and strong of a woman she is. James and Lily love her and treat her like a daughter. And they try their best to make things as awkward between the two as possible: James teases them, and Lily always tries to show Ginny baby pictures, they do embarrassing parent things when she’s over at dinner, and James tries to scare her away with his skill at quidditch.
    • Ginny, of course, is just as good at quidditch (if not better), and as soon as he finds out that she’s a chaser James instantly loves her. (And she holds great, engaging conversations with him. IE: the mischievous part of her and the same part of his converging together).
  • And their life is full of walks in autumn: James and Lily holding hands as they watch Harry kick up leaves. Nights of stargazing where Lily falls asleep and James spends the entire night breathlessly naming constellations. Inside family jokes and traditions. Mismatched socks everywhere in the house and James taking April Fool’s to the extreme. Burnt food, and quidditch, and red and gold. Impromptu hexes and bertie botts beans. Lily and Harry making James a lopsided birthday cake (and him loving it anyway). Cat fur sweaters, and laughter, and spring cleaning (which turns into forts and pillow fights).
  • And their family is quirky, and colorful, and loud. It’s sweet, and cozy, and happy. They’re together, they’re alive.
  • And all is well.
Not Dead Yet (Part 34)

*Well I had a feeling this was what was going to go down when I asked for suggestions. When in doubt do the nasty!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warning: language, smut

“You know, I thought this was going in another direction when you said you were ready.”

“Yeah, ready for breakfast.” I sat down at one of the tables. “Is it a problem that I’m hungry?”

“No, I am too but my appetite is for something other than a poorly made inn breakfast.”

“Let me guess, it’s sitting right across from you?”

“Stop guessing what I’m going to say.”

“Only when you stop being predictable.” I looked around but the inn was a ghost town. Last night it had been packed, where had everyone gone? It wasn’t even noon yet. “Where did everyone go?”

“I figured this might happen.” Peter reached behind the abandoned bar and pulled a loaf of bread and wheel of cheese that was hiding under on one of the lower shelves. “People are so easily frightened.”

“What did you do?”

“Snapped someone’s neck. Not important why.”


“Don’t give me that look. I had a perfectly acceptable reason.” he broke off some bread and tossed me the loaf, “At least we know no one will disturb us.”

“Codfish.” I caught the bread and bit into it. “Anything to drink?”

“Well there’s some mead back here.” he grinned picking up a bottle.

“Ha ha, something else please. Anything else.” Peter pulled a pitcher of water out and two glasses. “Thanks.”

We ate in silence, the din of the town outside bustling from the open windows. A couple people came in unaware of any danger. Others saw Peter and turned right back out the doors. “What exactly did happen last night?” I asked, “I know you killed someone and I have the feeling I was a bit of an easy target but that’s not all, is it?”

“It doesn’t matter what happened.” He picked at some dirt under his nails, “Now if we could retire back to our room. I believe I have a favor to fulfill.” He pulled me up off my chair and started heading back upstairs.

“Peter,” I followed shortly behind, “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because this is one of those instances where ignorance truly is bliss. Can you accept that?”

“I believe so.”

“Then for once in your miserable little life, listen to me. The details of what went on last night that you can no longer remember are no concern of yours. Even if they were, those details are now dead.” he held the door open for me, “May we?”

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My Great Comet Experience


The Show:

- me and Lucas Steele made eye-contact for 5 minutes

- I got tossed a bread thingy

- We weren’t at table seats but it was still AWESOME

- deneé should be a Disney princess omg

- Lucas Steele is so fucking funny oml


-all of the vocals are so amazing jeijskckJjfjsjcjKkfisi

- Sonya & Natasha are adorable and I love them

- DOLOKHAV ( is that how you spell it?) is adorable too in a scruffy dog kinda way if that makes ANY sense

-Literally every number was perfect??? the FUXK?

-Amber Gray is my queen

At the Stage Door:

-I told the actor who plays Dolokhav that his eyeliner was beautiful and he told me that it was called “Guy Liner”

-I told Lucas he was amazing and he smiled

- I hold the actress who played Mary that she was amazing and she BLUSHED at me OH GKFNCUSNFJX


I didn’t want much from my last year of employment with the hospital; just to keep my head down, do my job, and get out with as little fuss as possible. Of course, for that to happen, I’d have to keep my mouth shut and ride out the wave of increasingly demanding “requests” for me to work longer hours while tolerating snide remarks about my age.

Unfortunately, that just wasn’t my style.

After yet another meeting with HR over my unwillingness to roll over and play dead when my supervisor told me I was working Saturday because Tanya just *had* to have it off, I was told to take an early lunch and “think things over”. It was the same thing they’d been telling me since I hit 60 a few years before. They wouldn’t fire me, I was too good a nurse and they had no viable reason, but the not-so-subtle hints they’d been dropping about how I had aged out of the department were plentiful and pointed.

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I live in Osaka, Japan and often use the subway to go to work in the morning. One day, when I was waiting for the train, I noticed a homeless man standing in a corner of the subway station, muttering to himself as people passed by. He was holding out a cup and seemed to be begging for spare change.

A fat woman passed by the homeless man and I distinctly heard him say, “Pig.”

Wow, I thought to myself. This homeless man is insulting people and he still expects them to give him money?

Then a tall businessman went by and the homeless guy muttered, “Human.”

Human? I can’t argue with that. Obviously, he was human.

The next day, I arrived early at the subway station and had some time to kill, so I decided to stand close to the homeless man and listen to his strange mutterings.

A thin, haggard-looking man passed in front of him and I heard the homeless guy mutter, “Cow.”

Cow? I thought. The man was much too skinny to be a cow. He looked more like a turkey or a chicken to me.

A minute or so later, a fat man went by and the homeless man said, “Potato.”

Potato? I was under the impression that he called all fat people “Pig”.

That day, at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about the homeless man and his puzzling behavior. I kept trying to find some logic or pattern in what he was muttering.

Perhaps he has some kind of psychic ability, I thought. Maybe he knows what these people were in a previous life. In Japan, many people believe in reincarnation.

I observed the homeless man many times and began to think my theory was right. I often heard him calling people things like “Rabbit” or “Onion” or “Sheep” or “Tomato”.

One day, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to ask him what was going on.

As I walked up to him, he looked at me and said “Bread.”

I tossed some money into his cup and asked him if he had some kind of psychic ability.

The homeless man smiled and said, “Yes, indeed. I do have a psychic ability. It is an ability I obtained years ago. But it is not what you might expect. I can’t tell the future or read minds or anything like that.”

“Then what is your ability?” I asked eagerly.

“The ability is merely to know the last thing somebody ate,” he said.

I laughed because I realized he was right. He said “Bread.” The last thing I had eaten for breakfast that day was toast. I walked away shaking my head. Of all the psychic abilities someone could have, that one must be the most useless.

anonymous asked:

does billy have any privileges in his prison known as your basement?

Who’s Billy, Alex tells me to sometimes toss some bread crumbs down below but I don’t see anything there most of the time


Tuesday Boy | Junhui

Summary: Popcorns and a drink weren’t enough to keep the Tuesday Boy company.

If you take the 07.56 train to Seongdong-gu, scurry past its sliding doors and cease before the sun-drenched, spread out streets, you would catch a glimpse of an Aporia hippia with kaleidoscopic wings fluttering no more than a little over your eyelashes. The thick furred German Shepherd now tethered to a post would flash its canines at you before softening its growl. If you turn left after the first green public bin ahead of the entrance, you would come across the hotdog stall where people would both patiently and peevishly line up in front of.

And for the past few years, Junhui had already been taking this route to college.

There is an alternative, though. If he lingers in the bakery and waits until the owner approaches him with a smile, he could ask for one pepperoni pizza bread and please a girl. She would kiss him on the cheek and fly into the doors of the movie theatre she works at. He’d have to agree to forsake the morning butterfly and the sizzling hotdogs prior to taking this route, though. 

Junhui had only discovered this a few months ago, but it had become an established route of his every Tuesday.

You were standing on your toes, pleading for a reduction on your customary breakfast as you’d left your wallet somewhere under the soft quilt at home. Your attempt would’ve been futile if it hadn’t been for that one stranger sticking around.

“I have some money left,” he handed his money in exchange for your favourite bread. He tossed it upwards and passed it to you with a heart fluttering smile. “Here you go.”

The redness on your pallid cheeks started to show, your jaw twitching as you tried to free the words scrambled on the tip of your tongue. “Y-you really didn’t have to!” 

He shrugged, “Breakfast’s the most vital meal of the day.”

You used to think people like him only existed in films. The kind souled and genuine people who greet each other and offer a hand - would it not sound very peculiar if it were to happen in real life? You were so accustomed to studying every particular in a two-hour movie that witnessing the same event materialise before you formed a horripilation on your skin. You swallowed. “C-come by the movie theatre sometime, I’ll give you free snacks. I work there.” 

“A popcorn and a drink?” He lightened up. Considering how he sounded, people near him would’ve guessed he resented diets and would prefer snacking off and on. In all honesty, the pink tinge outspread across your cheeks and the shimmer that flickered within your amber orbs had been the only ones bringing about this behaviour. 

“Sure,” you bobbed your head. After what he had done, you weren’t letting him go in possession of nothing. “Your name..?”

“Ah,” he snapped his fingers, “it’s Junhui.”

After seven suns have drowned in the horizon and the sound of hurrying trains continued to resonate in your ears, Junhui has yet to drop by the movie theatre. Did he not want something in return? But he sounded so excited the other day! Although you finally surmised he most likely failed to recall your promise, a part of you agonised over the fact that he might not want to see you again.

But when the doors to the movie theatre opened with an abrupt whirl of wind on an inclement Tuesday afternoon, you knew you shouldn’t have had anything to worry about.

“Woah,” Junhui took in his surroundings - including the uniform you bore. He took giddy steps toward the counter, eyes dilating with incredulity at the variegated refreshments available to purchase. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a cinema before,” you descried the quick glitter somewhere within his eyes. Junhui glanced at you before quietly deciding on a popcorn flavour. 

“I’ve been to several, but that’s a couple of years ago. Oh, caramel, please.” 

You grinned to yourself, stunned for a second at how surprisingly pure this boy was. You began filling the empty popcorn bucket before realising you weren’t aware of his desired size. “Large, medium, or small?”

Junhui returned his gaze at you. “I’ll take small.”

And then you offered him a drink, but he refused, saying he thought about it the other day and he didn’t pay you this much. But you insisted that he accepted your offer, telling him “breakfast’s the most vital meal of the day”, and if you had missed it, it would feel worse than losing a couple of dollars. 

The amount of people in the cinema was too little to be considered a crowd, each room being occupied by roughly ten, if not, less. You told Junhui he could watch something if he wanted to - and that he still had to pay - which he agreed to. The movie would only start an hour later though, so Junhui had enough time to keep himself busy - which he finally determined to get to know you better.

The movie - horror, he previously picked - began, and while Jun relished his two hours inside theatre four, you had theatre three free of mess. Once in a while, you would sit down on one of the seats in the back row and think about Jun and his irresistible appeals, your heart thumping an unnecessary amount of times. You were being ridiculous; you had only met Junhui twice.

As time is extended, you were so sure you had developed feelings for Jun. You realised first you had fallen in love with his eyes. Every time he scanned the menu for something more than a popcorn and a drink, you would sneakily search within them.

Junhui stopped by more than you expected him to.  He had once come with a friend, who insisted they watch the latest comedy film. He came with more friends after - four or five, you couldn’t remember - in which you had given Jun a little price cut instead of a hundred percent discount, so his friends wouldn’t be too envious. They would finish two and a half hours later, your eyes already groggy as you tried to resist the urge to shut them. You didn’t know this, but Jun would look back at you refilling drink dispensers or scrubbing the bar before catching up with his friends who are already outside. On some days your head would be tilted over your crossed arms on the far corner of the counter, as your co-workers did their portion of the job. He would fret over your weary figure, hesitating in his tracks before stepping out of the theatre. With this, Junhui had become aware that he might also be developing feelings for you.

Jun would habitually come on Tuesday afternoons, around two or three. But today, he didn’t show up until the sun had set. He’d asked you earlier if you worked the night shift. You don’t, but your co-worker had a dental appointment so you covered up for her.

He looked a little enervated. His head was hung low, his hair a tad dishevelled, and his smile didn’t stretch until the crinkle beneath his eyes emerged. You asked him why he had come this late, he replied with a quick “I had something to do”. Jun declined your treat of popcorn and a drink - which was weird - although he did pick to watch a movie.

If it hadn’t been for Jun, the theatre would’ve been completely vacant. Still, he chose to sit in the back row with nothing in hand - not a meal, not a phone, not a friend, nothing. Jun looked strange and uneasy today. He picked romance, a genre you knew he wasn’t interested in. You shrugged it off though, Jun was full of surprises.

You didn’t have much cleaning to do, as the movie theatre had been almost empty the entire day. Maybe it was finals week, you thought. 

You glanced at the doors of theatre four - the room Jun was in - and came up with a very risky idea. You pulled off the hairband that fastened your ponytail and let your hair down. You switched into a white pussy bow, paired with a leather look legging. You peeked through the doors of theatre four and made sure no one but Jun was inside before entering.

He squinted his eyes at you climbing up the aisle, trying to figure out if they were functioning well because it couldn’t be you - it shouldn’t be you. 

When you asked Jun if you could sit next to him, he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat. His hands were fidgety, you noticed. You stared at the widespread screen in front of you, trying to fight the urge to stop his hands from moving too restlessly. 

You weren’t into romance either, so the movie didn’t do much in piquing your interest. Your eyelids grew heavier every passing second, the view in front of you starting to blur. You were about shut your eyes for good when a hand slipped into yours, your fingers intertwined perfectly with Jun’s.

You stared at your hands impassively, still not believing your fingers were coiled around his soft and slender ones. Now you could really feel the moistness in his hand, the same one that was unsure and fidgety awhile ago. You uttered a giggle, causing Jun to nervously face you and lick his chapped lips. 

“I have a, uh,” he coughed, “a confession to make.”

You chuckled, “I like you too, Junhui.”

He grinned. He grinned with patent bliss. In fact, very widely you swore you heard his cheekbones crack. His ebony eyes returned to glistening again, the radiant joy that he used to bear now visible. 

Junhui was back to Jun, and all it took was a confession from you.

You would be waiting in front of the theatre every Tuesday, he’d be panting, droplets of sweat evident on his shirt by the time he arrived with your favourite pepperoni pizza bread in his grip. He would come back in the afternoon, hair slicked back, his espadrilles intermittently dripping with rainwater, and breath always a little minty. You would kiss him on the lips and head out on a date with your Tuesday boy.