could be garden tools

funny story

so when i was in like 6th grade, we were taking a test and the room was silent. well my pencil broke so i had gotten up to go sharpen it. but I, being the wierdo I am, had to sing on the way to sharpening my pencil. the tune I sang wasn’t an actual song, but it went a little something like “gotta get your hoes, go get your hoes, don’t forget your hoe hoe hoessss.” i’ll remind you that at this time i was an innocent little 6th grader (but the rest of the class wasn’t). after I had repeated that about 3-4 my teacher got curious what I was singing. when I told him and sang it to the whole class, everyone was laughing except the teacher. he immediately called the principal and i started crying. i didn’t know what was happening. when the teacher asked why I was crying, I said it was because I was confused. i was wailing because i didn’t know i could get in trouble for singing about gardening tools. so about 2 minutes pass and I’m balling on the floor with boogers everywhere. and the principal walks in (just great). about 5 minutes pass and no one is able to talk to me, they are sitting there interrogating me on why i would sing about such things. for some reason, i just kept crying even worse than before. so imagine that every time anyone said something, a little kid just cried louder until the voices would stop. so finally I stop crying. and the teacher/principal (I don’t remember which one) asks me why I cried so hard. and all I had to say was “i didn’t know i could get in such big trouble for singing about a gardening tool…” and that’s when everyone even the teacher started laughing their asses off. and that’s also when I started crying again…

Obsession

Writer- @myhellyourstories

Requested- Anonymous

Request- Hello!! Can I please request a Harry Hook imagine with a female reader as Mal’s younger sister who Harry has an obsession with and he just loves her but she doesn’t like him back and he maybe kidnaps her? Anything you want in the story though! Thank you!!

Disclaimer- I do not own any Descendants characters, all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney’s Descendants. All I own is my story.

*.*

 Pairing- Harry Hook x Fem! Reader

Summary- (Y/N)’s big sister going back to the Isle makes her have to face someone she never wanted to see again.

Warning(s)- Talk of neglectful parents, talks of obsession.

Words- 1887

A/N-  There will be a part 2 coming out really soon  finishing it.

Originally posted by lavendertitties

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a few tips for the witch on a budget:
  • dollarstore, dollarstore, DOLLARSTORE! they have so much stuff - herbs, jars, incense, flower seeds gardening tools, rocks, sand, candles… I could go on and on. the dollar store will be your best friend! so what if its not fancy stuff, it still works! 
  • utilize plants and flowers native to your area: they will be readily available in forests, rivers, parks, etc. there are lots of powerful things around that you may not even realize
  • sigils! theyre so easy and really don’t require extra purchases here is a really good tutorial on how to make them, and then you can activate them in any way you wish (burn them, erase them, rip up the paper, wash the sigil away, etc.)
  • instead of buying a tarot deck, download an app - theres lots of good ones out there that are available for free! (I use golden thread tarot) 
  • you dont need fancy crystals or altars or herbs or tarot decks or anything really. all you need is you! remember that your power comes from within you and it is stronger the more you access it. Tools simply enhance that, however they are not necessary to witchcraft. You are the magic :) 
Centaur (AD&D)

Yet another creature cribbed from Greek myth, where they were all rapacious drunken wild men who would rampage through the countrysides in whirlwind orgies of sex and violence, except for Chiron, who was pretty much the only decent centaur. So, you’d think centaurs would be perfect for yet another “they’re evil bandits, kill them, kill them all” sort of entry in the Monstrous Manual, right?
WRONG! See, they look more human than orcs or hobgoblins or kobolds (at least, from the waist up), and beings so human-like could not possibly be evil, right?
Though having said that, they might still be just a little evil, in a manner the writers of this book probably didn’t intend…

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anonymous asked:

Can you please continue the one where Fergus goes through the stones with Claire?? Now that Frank(YUCK) is out of the picture what will they do? Will they find Jamie and return to him earlier than before... (begging on hands and knees) No 20 year gap please!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“I have never had a room of my own before,” Fergus remarked as he wandered around the small room on the second floor of the manse. It was across the hall from Roger’s and the younger boy had wandered in after the Reverend Wakefield had shown Claire and Fergus upstairs. Claire had followed Mrs. Graham back down to help her in the kitchen with dinner insisting it was the least she could do to help. The Reverend had a sermon to work on and entrusted Roger with seeing to their new guest and making sure he got settled.

“But… ye dinna have brothers and sisters,” Roger pointed out, slightly confused. “How could ye no have a room to yerself when there was no one for ye to share it with?”

“Before Mother Claire and Milord found me, I was living in a brothel in Paris,” Fergus explained.

“A brothel?” Roger inquired moving to a small table and chair in the corner that would serve as a desk for Fergus. He climbed onto the chair and placed a small airplane he’d been carrying with him on the desk to check its propeller.

Fergus silently cursed himself for mentioning Maison Elise––Mother Claire would not have wanted him to talk about the brothel and perhaps the Reverend would not want Roger to know about such places.

Oui. It is a kind of… French boarding house… for women. The madam who ran it… she let me stay and help around the house when there was small work needing done.”

“Ah,” Roger said with a nod as though he understood completely. “And did they no send ye away during the war? My mam and gran did what they could to keep me in London when most of the children were being sent to the country. They died though and I came to live with my papa here. He’s no my real da, ye ken.”

“I do not know who my father is—or rather, who he was,” Fergus admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed and facing Roger. The bed was higher off the ground than any he’d ever been in before—his feet only skimmed the ground—but he had developed quite the inclination for twentieth century mattresses. “Nor my mother. But I have Mother Claire now.”

He thought of Milord and the longing that had become so familiar in the last week washed over him again. From what Mother Claire had said, Milord did not know that Fergus had come through the stones with her—must have assumed that he had carried through on his promise to join the men going back to Lallybroch, to carry that paper back to Mrs. Murray. If Milord learned the truth about his deception, would he be disappointed? Or would Milord be pleased that Fergus had accompanied Mother Claire and would be able to watch over her for him—her and the bébé, for by now he had figured out the truth about Mother Claire’s condition. If it hadn’t been for their time in l’hopital, he might have guessed sooner—he had seen a number of the ladies at Maison Elise with child during his time there; he knew the signs.

“Do ye want to go outside and play?” Roger asked.

“Play? Play how? With what?” Fergus asked, taken aback.

Roger laughed. “Anything we want. Mrs. Graham gave me a football for my last birthday.”

“A… foot… ball?” Fergus asked slowly.

Roger’s face became one of shock. “Ye’ve never played football?”

Fergus shook his head.

“Dinna worry. I’ll teach ye how,” Roger asserted, thrilled at the prospect of being able to teach the fascinating older boy something. “Come on.” He darted out of the room to retrieve the football and Fergus had little choice but to follow a few steps behind.

“Dinna run in the house, lads,” Mrs. Graham’s voice called out as they streaked through the kitchen and out the door into the yard.

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