i need another animal to paint now and i have no idea which

A Fool of Mine [2]

Originally posted by luuuuuke-evans

Title: A Fool of Mine
Chapter: 2/?
Pairing: Gaston/Reader
Words: 1,987
Summary: [ Your next few days in town are spent exploring…and being chatted up by the wonderful captain. You take a visit to the tavern one night, and get quite a surprise. ]
A/N: This was honestly one of the most fun things I’ve written in a while, Gaston is just such a fun song hhh 
Part 1 can be found here
Part 3 can be found here

Over the course of the next few days, you’d managed to pick up on the town’s clockwork routine. You slowly became a part of it, going into town each morning, buying some bread or spices for the day, then relaxing in some secluded area and reading.

Today, however, you chose the well where the townsfolk (or rather, women) could be found washing clothes. There was a surprising lack of people there yet, but perhaps it was too early.

Across the village, the man who had attempted to flatter you stood with yet another fresh bouquet of flowers. This was going to be the day. After so long, today was going to be the day Belle would agree to marry him, he knew it.

You turned the page of your borrowed book, eager to continue.

‘The day that man allows true love to appear, those things which are well made will fall into confusion and will overturn everything we believe to be right and true.’

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Creatures | Prologue


Muses: Jeon Jungkook ft. Kim Taehyung & Park Jimin x Reader.
Genre: Fluff.
Words: 2.1k
Type: Hybrid AU / Watashi no Ookami-kun AU.

Description: In hopes of an invigorating change of scenery, you set out for a three hour drive to the small town outside of the city where your grandmother lives, thinking this is your escape from the ever evolving globalization and capitalism but little do you know what awaits within these forest bounds.

The universe must really hate you. 

First, the inconsistent reception in the area that hangs on a thin thread since you stepped out the yellow cab. Second is the arduous journey that is almost humanly impossible to accomplish ─ in heels. Third is said reception dying out from one bar to a big obese no service staring back at you in a face-rubbing mockery, you’re on your own, loser! as you ascend further away from civilization and into the ominous green and matted brown that lies ahead. And last, the scorching hot summer heat should be far cooler than away from the hustle and bustle of the city life and towering skyscraper, but no, it’s still 34567887654 degree out here. You’re basically melting.

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Tom’s  bedtime story.

Author Ladyoftheteaandblood

Alternative fact, Tom story. Pure fluff and nonsense.

(If you want to read just the Tom story and not the children’s book he writes, please feel free to miss out the bits in italics)

Tom stared at the computer and hoped the words would come, when he’d started writing this children’s story he’d been full of ideas but now they seemed to been blown out of his head like the seeds on a dandelion and where they had ended up, who knew?

Esmeralda Hamster had been a story he’d already made up and told to his young niece when she had been bullied in the playground, so when they had suggested to him he write his own Cbeebies story to read at the bedtime slot, he’d jumped at the chance.

Now two days before going to see the lady who was meant to be illustrating it for him, he’d yet to find the end, or more to the point he knew the bloody end but not how to word it.

British press would love that he thought “Tom Hiddleston lost for words!”

Right make coffee, get packet of HobNobs and dig in. Bentley purred round his legs as he watched the kettle boil.

“Sorry old friend I’m late feeding you” Tom picked up the tabby held him against his famous black Cardigan and rubbed  between the cats ears.

“Ok feller let’s get you fed and me back to work”

Tom took his coffee and biscuits into his office, settled down at his messy desk and reread what he had already come up with.

Esmeralda Hamster was small of that there was no doubt, and being so tiny had its problem. She could be easily overlooked by others and equally as easily be pushed around by those who were bigger.

Draco was bigger. A large dog who ruled the household that Esmeralda lived in. 

Esmeralda Hamster lived in a house with many pets and good owners but good owners don’t always see what going on between pets and Draco was a bully. He demanded that all pets give him the best of everything. He even demanded that Oscar the squirrel who lived in the three in the back garden, should steal food from other gardens and houses for him. And as we all know stealing is wrong.

Draco loved to punish those who didn’t do as he commanded them. The one-time Esmeralda Hamster had disobeyed him, he’d surrounded her cage with pillows and trapped her in, so barely any air could get to her. It was only the bravery of Duncan the house rabbit, who had saved her by pushing one of the cushions just back far enough to let more air in.

Enough was enough and although Esmeralda was small she had decided to act.

And that’s where Tom was stuck, he knew where he wanted it to go but the words would not come. 

Munching on a HobNob and staring at the blank screen he decided to phone his niece and have a chat.

“Hi Tiger, how are you?” He asked when his sister had handed his favourite girl the phone.

“Mummy says you are writing the story you told me and it’s going to be read on Cbeebies, is that true….my story!?”

“Yup, but Uncle Yay Monster is a little bit stuck, so could you retell the story to me from where Esmeralda has decided to stop Draco, please”

Tiger was only too happy to retell her big loopy uncle, his story and half hour later and after some plot embellishments that he didn’t remember Tom was back on track.

“Thank you, Tiger I owe you an ice cream” he said his good byes and got back to it.

The next Time Draco went out for his afternoon walk Esmeralda called a meeting of all the family pets including Oscar the squirrel. 

“It’s time we did something about Draco, it’s time we stopped his bullying so we can all live in peace” she announced as loudly as she could.

“But how do we stop a bully when we are all so small?” asked Florence the gerbil, her sister Molly nodding in agreement

“We show him to our owners for what he is, we tell on him”

“And how do we do that?” shouted Duncan

“I have a plan!” And with that she explained her brave idea.

The animals listened, nodded lots and decided to carry out the plan that very night when the owners were all watching telly in the same room.

Draco came back from his walk and took his afternoon nap on Lily the cats bed. When he awoke in the early evening, he started making demands as he always did.

But this time the animals in one chorus said No! Everything he demanded got the same reply No!

“You will all pay for this when the owners go to bed he growled at them.

You have to catch us first said Esmeralda and with that all the pets shot off in different directions, around the room.

Draco was angry, 

Draco was not pleased, Draco would show these animal who was boss, and he started to chase them.

Draco raced after Duncan the house rabbit who hid under the desk, then dashed out again as Draco set his sights on the gerbils.

Molly and Florence looked terrified and only just managed to avoid Draco jaws by scurrying under the sofa.

All the animals headed for Lilly the cat who stood by the door, and when all the animal where in front of Draco running for their lives, she jumped up and grabbed the handle pulling it down and the door swung open.

The pets all dashed through to the telly room and huddled in a corner looking scared as a growling Draco loomed over them.

“Draco what are you doing!?” Came the owners voice, the dog looked around to find the whole family that had been watching telly, were now glaring at him.

Draco had been caught red pawed and he now had to pay the price. He would never again be allowed free range of the house, so that he couldn’t bully the other pets.

Draco had to live in the kitchen, sleeping on the mat, or be out in the garden away from the others.

From that day, there was no more bullying and all the pets lived happily ever after. Esmeralda being the happiest of them all, knowing that being small you could still make a difference.

Yes it was done! after a celebratory HobNob, he phoned Luke and told him the good news.

Two days later Tom was at the door  of the illustrator house, manuscript in hand.

In his head he had painted her as a short cuddly, lady with curly hair and brown eyes in her middle-age.

When the door opened he found a lady that did indeed have big brown eyes but she was tall with long dark haired and in her late twenties. She was very colourfully dressed, very pretty, and had a  fantastic smile.

“Hi Tom, I’m Maxine, Max to you, come on in.

They walked into a book lover’s dream, as every wall of the house was covered in shelves laden with books on every subject you could wish for. If Tom hadn’t been there on a mission he’d have been in those shelves in seconds.

Max saw him eye up her treasures and laugh,

“My excuse when I by yet another book, is I need as much inspiration as I can get. Now I will make us a coffee then you can read me the story. Please give all the characters the voices you see them with as it helps me with drawing them.

Coffee and HobNobs served, Tom was beginning to really like Max,

Tom settled down on a floofy colourful sofa, and began reading in his Cbeebies story voice, with different ones for all the characters. 

Max grinned at him, as Tom then explained as best he could, how he saw each animal. She did quick sketches of each, changing bits that Tom didn’t like or adding bits that Tom wanted.

Three hours later, most of those spent huddled side by side on the old sofa, she had the rough idea of what he wanted. And Tom had a very good idea what he’d like but he left it there and went back to his house for one and a cat.

Several weeks later Max phoned to ask him back to see the finished pictures. Amazingly Tom found he was suddenly free (after cancelling Luke) that very afternoon and could be there anytime Max wanted, He arrived at her door with a cake from his favourite bakery and prayed she’d like it.

Max took him into her warm inviting home and made them both coffee, this time she took him into the room she used for drawing which extended onto a conservatory. 

The room had a large table in it and more shelves, more books and loads of paper, pens, and artist gear, which to Tom had no rhyme or reason to their placement but made perfect Sense to Max.

On the table was an artist Pad, Max opened it and nervously showed the bright watercolour pictures off one by one, each time looking at Tom for a reaction. 

Tom just stared, Max had captured each little creature as he’d seen them in his head, and then set them in scenes on the page, just as he had imagined them to be. 

Tom would be the first to tell you his artistic abilities were zero, so he was always enamoured of others who could, and Max most definitely could.

“They are just as I saw them, they are beautiful, you really brought them to life thank you” without thinking he gave her the Hiddles hug, an all-encompassing, rib cracking, hold that left you in no doubt that you’d been Hiddled.

He let her go and seeing she looked a little flustered, did the next thing the Hiddles is known for.

“Oh, um, sorry, got a bit carried away, just really pleased with what you’ve done it’s awesome!”

He now have the cute smacked puppy look and Max just laughed.

“Maybe just a warning before the next one” she said and before putting his brain in gear Tom blurted out,

“Oh do I get another one then” 
“Buy me lunch and you just might” came the reply.

Eight months later Tiger sat in front of the family TV  with Toms sister and mum. Together they watch Uncle Yay Monster, kill off female kind by telling a bedtime story in his old cuddly Cardigan. The one that Tiger loved to snuggle into, that had the warm male, safe, smell of Tom and he wore the glasses that made him look more daddyish and approachable.

He told her story really well, even if he had left out some of the extra bits she’d added but she could question him on that tomorrow when he came round with Max for a family lunch.

(picture not mine I just played)

tagging firstly the people who made me do this after the Whats Tom doing post

@enchantedbyhiddles @tegwin @darksidekitty

then @inkededucatednnerdy @abfoster1s @anovidelonghi @ancientfinnishgoddess @aggro-femme @archy3001 @antyc67 @aliceada @bluegrasscontessa @booksandcatslover @damageditem @dorito82 @feelmyroarrrr @frenchblondgirl @eve1978 @echantedbytwh @heathermc13 @izhunny @larouau12 @lolawashere @lostinspace33 @maevecurrywrites @marveloznerd @mrshiddelston @october-green @oeffsee @ourladybinxthings @peskipixi @prplprincez @quoting-shakespeare-to-ducks @servent-alearika @sf0206 @siyoteodiara @the-haven-of-fiction @the-lady-mischief @tinaferraldo @tomforachange @tomkurbikston @tomhiddleston-kikibfairy @neither-blue-nor-green @lordjohnandtom @nuggsmum @kellarter 


Modern!Newt Scamander x Reader

A/N: had to. just had to. also, this is really old ;v;

You work at Starbucks but hate coffee.

Like absolutely despise it as much as it could be - it’s bitterness just extremely wards you off. So does whatever other flavor is surfing around in it.

With that being said, it was a horrible combination, yes, you would think, but you needed a decent paying job and this was the best you could get currently with being in college. So you made do if it meant survival - i.e, being able to buy supplies and food, and primarily whatever else one needed for a living. It helped that the campus wasn’t too far either. That and there was wifi and employee discounts to take advantage of so it wasn’t half bad, nor was the smell of java beans and confection sweetness. You also volunteer at animal shelters when you’re free from the pressures of getting an education to blow off some steam and working part time to do something you enjoy more than making six am zombies a cup of joe while having to deal with overly crotchety or peppy people was just what you needed. Including some of your co-workers you put below minimum effort in socializing with. It was an okay level of existing for what it was worth, and you just tried to remind yourself that the pot at the end of the rainbow that is a college degree would be so very much worth all the hard work.

It was the average afternoon for a mid fall day and a ginger walked in some time past one thirty. He had a young face, probably European, that had more than a healthy amount of freckles. He walked up to the cash register, seeming all but meekly polite as he ordered a small latte and told you his name so you could sharpie it on his cup.

“Alright, I’ll call you in a bit pal.” you smiled.

He nodded and you got to work. Crafting him his oddly simple drink given all the options to pick from as you thought of his name.

Newton. Certainly not one you hear everyday - in your case anyway - but very unique. It gave you can idea and as you were an in the moment confidence person, you went through with that idea.

You called him up and he listened like a retriever, red head popping up in attention. You reached over the shelf frame on the side of the register, glad you had long enough arms to compensate for your short body. He grabbed the cup from you carefully and it didn’t take long for him to snort then chuckle, but it was more school boyish than you expected and that was insanely adorable. He was amused by the nickname you had wrote - Newt. You even doodled a little one next to your curly handwriting. His smile jerked up higher on one side it turned out.

You smiled again, this time more earnestly and shrugged as he looked your way. Then you noticed something more odd than his name and of course you had to call him out on it.

“Cool critter man.“ it was a witty compliment meant for the stick bug crawling on his shoulder. It was a bright green and getting close enough to graze his collar as it crawled upward.

He startled, and without delay, frantically snatched it up. He then angrily whispered a reprimand to it, letting it crawl into his breast pocket. You watched him all the while, bemused before he seemed to remember that you were there. He started up in a stammer and you cut him off. 

"Does it have a name?”

You swore you could see the headlights of his brain blinker as he tilted his head at you. He swallowed roughly and looked at his latte as he thumbed open a piece of plastic on the lid over the lip of the cup.

P-Pickett,” he answered quietly.

You cocked your head to the side too.


A smile shyly tilts his lips and he thanks you.

It’s only a matter of time before you decide to tell him your name, but that’s about when he’s forced to go sit at one of the tables as a grouchy customer moves in behind him on the otherwise non existent line and loudly complains about him holding it up. It was moment where you really wished you could tell some people to suck it and frack off. She was just lucky more people came in after her complaint. So, you get back to work and help her with a strained attitude, a little less enthusiastic than before and painting mental mustaches on her and the rest of who followed that were not of the savory kind of personality.

When you’ve hit another lapse of inactivity in coffee serving, you spy Newt in the back, alone and ears plugged with buds. Probably listening to some chill tunes. He was writing furiously in a worn journal and taking periodic sips of his latte. Sighing, you check the time on your Android. It’s nearly three now. Good as time as ever for a break, and what better than to see how the politest guy you’ve served in a long time is doing. You made yourself something quick and poured a mug before popping out from behind the desk and telling Jordie - the quiet, sweet guy of the staff that never threw anyone under the bus and kept to himself - that’d you be back in thirty. You took a drink from your mug as you ambled over to Newt.

“Hey." You absently wonder if no one has every really went out of their to talk to him before because of how he reacts to you. He seems quirky - in the good way. So it’d be a shock that no has tried to befriend him.

You’ve managed to give him another start and he’s turned to a stuttering mess as you sit down across from him, a piping hot chocolate in hand. Unknown to you, it surprised him that you had arrived at his table.

"W-why are you- won’t you get in trouble for not being on the job?” he asked in that raspy accent, taking out his ear buds.

“Hey, it’s no problem Newt, I’m on break and well…sitting at an empty table or back of the break room by myself can be lonely." you explained, leaning back in your seat.

"A-are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” you soothe and the tension strung in his shoulders dropped visibly.

He’s nervous as you then try to start up chatter, asking if he had any hobbies.

"Well, I volunteer at the nearby animal shelter. And several others.” he confessed sheepishly.

“Really? Huh, so do I.”

Something sparked in his lovely eyes and soon you two couldn’t shut up. You relate on a few things, like options and philosophies, and he mentions that he also rescues pit bulls - he insists on telling you tokens of several, which you don’t at all mind -, and smiles brightly when you pipe up that you have one too. You feel comforted by his presence and he seems to like you to some extent if he hasn’t stopped yammering with you yet.

He got even more animated when you started to rambled about endangered species the moment he brings them up. And misunderstood or stereotyped ones.

“They deserve a lot more concern, you know? Like, these are animals - the creatures who have had the earth a lot longer than we have, so aren’t they entitled to something more than just advertisements on TV that don’t help as much as they say they do?”

He drank the last of his latte in a short gulp, he placed the empty cup down, “I wholehearted agree, I suppose we can only hope for more efforts to be exulted but I hope to help that some day."  

Yes, he had told you he was aiming to become a zoologist in his near future, a career you once considered taking on in flitting thought, but your indecisiveness had left you wondering more on you choices of occupations.

Turns out you both like art too and share taste in music.

Sadly, that topic is cut short and because your break time’s up in a flash and you have to get back to work and Newt has an essay to finish.

You down the rest of your hot chocolate, "Um, sorry. Gotta go back to the grind an’ stuff.” you tuck back some hair. 

He says he looks forward to seeing you again and gives a less bashful smile as he rises to leave too.

You hobble on back behind the register, catching sight of him through a window and holding onto his image as he disappears in the street. You sigh, feeling warm inside, and you know it’s not because of the hot chocolate.

You wonder if he notices the heart shaped cookie you slipped into his bag before he left.

Originally posted by falling-through-autumn

How Glass Castings are Born (and how I killed a baby unicorn and accidentally made abstract sculpture in the process)

I’ve made a number of posts which hint at what I do with glass/the sort of art I make, but the process I usually work in - know as casting - is long and confusing. This is a ramble-y/technical post with lots of pictures, so I’m adding a ‘read more’ line so as to not clutter up anyone’s dash too terribly… But I will leave one hovering above that threshold. 

…Meet Frank.

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Joker in Belle Reve

This is extremely random but I was doing an RP a long time ago where Harley was pregnant and she and J got captured by Amanda Waller. 

This is basically a one shot that I may continue of Jokers point of view in Belle Reve when he is first captured

Feedback would be lovely and if you’d like me to write more, let me know. Enjoy! 
(Ignore spelling mistakes and such)

The green haired man sat In the corner of the cell; straight jacket tight around his body. The cell was dark and dirty. Padded wall to ceiling and even the door-other than a small flap that could be removed for food to be placed inside the cell- in a dingy, spongy material. The light provided by a single fluorescent bulb at the middle of the ten-foot ceiling, covered by reinforced plastic to ensure he wouldn’t be able to break it.

That was kind of them; making the room mirror how they felt about the man. He could appreciate the gesture….

His head hung low, Green strands of hair falling in his face, seemingly a duller colour than the usual vibrant emerald. His eyes were closed; the blue turned to a dull grey and the deranged look was slightly replaced by one spacey And almost… Lost.

The chemicals entered the room through hidden vents, the gas leaving the metal with a small hiss. The only other sound was his slow breathing; animalistic low growls leaving him every time he exhaled.

Arkham asylum was one thing. However, this was on another level. The familiar cloth straight jacket was replaced by one entirely made of leather strong enough so he wouldn’t be able to break it. The cell was completely ‘safe’; the only possible source of causing pain- the glass of the light bulb- was ten feet above the ground covered in two inches of plastic. He was forced to sit and do nothing and if he caused problems he would get chained to the floor.

On top of that, there was the gas being pumped in in order to make him calm, which it seemed to be doing as well as messing with his mind and thoughts.

He was a trapped animal, being drugged in order to maintain safety.

How pathetic the people were to do that to him.

How long had he been in there? He wasn’t sure. Thoughts falling out of his mind like leaves off a tree on a windy day. He’d gotten better; adapted almost. The more he focused, the more he kept his thoughts, hence his position generally remained at the back corner with his eyes closed and slow breaths leaving his red lips.

Did he sleep? Did he eat? Not really. On occasions he’d drift off but not well or for long, and maybe take a small bite of the 'food’; just enough of both to keep his body ticking. This place wasn’t where he was going to die.


The sound of heavy boot steps followed by the clacking of heels echoed in the hallway, approaching the Joker’s cell. The man didn’t move. If one was to just look at him at first glance, they could assume he was dead; slumped against the padded walls like a rag doll.

The steel door opened with a loud creak on its hinges, and that was the sound that caused the clown’s eyes to open; his head remained down however. He could see behind the strands of hair in his face, two pairs large guard boots and some nude heels.

The guards approached him. He still did not move. They pulled him to his feet. He stayed still. They chained his ankles to the ground. Nothing other than slight swaying as if he was being blown by a breeze. The concentration was needed to keep his mind clear. This was his first interaction with the infamous Amanda Waller, so it must have been important. And if he wanted to play? He couldn’t jumble over his words.

“Joker.” The woman spoke, voice confident and steady, yet naturally stern,  Clearly indicating she had nothing to fear. “Do you know who I am?”

He contemplated if speaking was the best thing to do. Yes. It would be. “Amanda Waller…” His head raised slightly so he could look at her more, a silver grin tugging at his lips,“ How lovely to finally meet you…” His voice was falsely over kind, her name leaving his lips laced in venom.

The woman seemed unphased by the man, and she continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “You are now part of my facility,” she stated. “You are under my control. If I ask you to do something, you do it. Understand?”

“Is everyone else as lucky as I am? Getting to speak to you face to face…?” He asked, his voice sounding slightly tired due to the most likely increase in chemicals in the room just in case. He wasn’t working for her. There was no point. He would be out at some point soon anyway.

“You can make this difficult for yourself, or you can answer me when I ask you questions,” the woman responded, and her response made the joker laugh ever so slightly.

“no humour…” He said in a low voice and shake of his head before he spoke some more. “Amanda Waller… I’m not your slave…” He said, “nor will I ever be…” His eyes flicked up to her and a grin was on his red lips, “but the offer means /so/ much to me.” And a laugh left him.

The guards held the bottom of their guns as if they were going to hit the man with them, but the woman raised her hand for them to stop. She looked fed up. She was done being reasonable with this man, there was no use. She stepped close to the green haired psychopath. Very close and the guards acted as though they would pull her away but she once again gave them a silent indication to stay put. “You will learn I’m not someone to joke with,” she said, looking at the man who had leant down slightly to be at her height. “Harley and your child certainly did.”

The grin immediately fell from his face and his jaw clenched.

“What did you do?” He growled at her.

A small smile tugged at the woman’s painted lips, “so that is how I can get your attention.” She said and stepped away from him slightly. “Do you really think I’d let you and that girl reproduce?” She asked as she looked to him as if it was the most repulsive idea in the world.

He stayed quiet but he shifted slightly from foot to foot, getting obviously antsy and angry; like a lion about to be given its dinner.

“Harley disrespected me,” she continued. “When she was working for me, she escaped, thanks to you.” She said and pointed at him, as if saying 'this is all your fault, not mine.’ “I was originally thinking I’d kill her-” another growl left him, but she ignored it, “but then I decided wouldn’t it be better to have her suffer? You enjoy making people suffer, don’t you?” She asked him, putting on the obvious persona that they could relate on this one thing. “So I got rid of the baby.” She said casually.

His body shook, breathing quick and ragged with absolute fury.

“Ripped it out of her, despite her many objections….” The woman said, obviously enjoying seeing the man become so riled up. She knew she was safe.

As if he could read her thoughts, his body went still and he stood up straighter once again, expression blank. “I can’t wait to take a knife to that smug smile,” he said calmly as his head tilted slightly.

The said smug smile faded, “you’re taking this out on me, when you know it’s your fault.” She said simply. “I’m done with him,” she instructed the guards and began walking out while the large men shoved the joker to the ground and unchained his ankles.

“I will speak to you again when I need you,” Amanda said as she left, and the guards closed and locked the door behind them all, leaving him in the dimly lit room alone once again.

Ultimate Child Item List


**Another in my “Ultimate Lists” series. This is a list of items that any person in the children communities can refer to for ideas, help, or a shopping guide. The list may continue to be updated as I think of/am told about or reminded of more things to add. Also, keep in mind that these are just suggestions. Not everything on this list is for every person, and that’s okay. ^_^ Please, enjoy!**

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Dangerous: Part 2

Originally posted by squishedbyseb

“You’ve only heard his side of the story. You never asked mine.”

Chapter 1


Chapter Links: 1: //  2: // 3: Soon

The apricot colored leaves crunched under her combat boots. As she hastily made her run to the Avengers- or what was left of the Avengers- tower. Her cinnamon hue hair whipped every which way as she glanced to her right and left before jumping off the pavement and into the rustling streets, making sure no car would come screeching her direction.

She didn’t care much, as she had just woken up to a very startled Tony hollering for her to come to the compound instantly, with the phone line going dead just seconds after.

Her heart beat a mile a minute, as she found the comfort of her Friday afternoon being snatched away from her with the blink of an eye.

It had been more then a week, but less then two. Since she last spoke with her uncle. She dreaded any conversations with the old man after the perplexed looks he shot her way after running away from his office. She thought she would at least spend a few weeks in New York before going back to her old life in Austria. Not that she was complaining, the new environment had opened her eyes a bit, she hadn’t visited the city in so long… it felt like sand between her toes.

“Ma'am, your not allowed to ent-” Before the security guard had  much of a say, she ushered her wrist from side to side shushing him up as she pushed open the doors with her shoulder. Books encased to her chest while the other went flying to tuck her messy bed hair behind her ear.

“Stop!” The man clad in black protested as he followed her small feet. She was short, but speed walked like a cheetah.

“Not now,” She seethed, her teeth gritted together from all the anger and worry she felt. She had walked - or more like Ran- down a few over five blocks to get here. She was more than sure her cheeks were grazed with the aftermath of snoring and drooling. But what could she do when Tony had woken her up with a death or life situation call?

“(Y/N),” Tony came, from the other end of the elevator. “You came very quick.” He noted, tipping his glass of water to the side so casually. Before fully entering the elevator. The girl gave him a reloaded look of “dare defy me”. Oh ya, he was getting hell for this.

“You called…” She calmly stated, shoving her buttons in place. “Who died.” She asked. Her pupils dilated down the man before her.

“I will if you don’t meet Barnes again for the scheduled meetings.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders and squinting his eyes at her as if it was the most obvious of reasons. He rolled his eyes at her lost look, before clipping the last floor for their destination- seeing as she wasn’t doing the job.


“Its official now, your James’s therapist.” He loaded. Taking the last bit of his glass, “Every day from nine am to three in the afternoon.” He tipped his head, then Exited out the elevator before looking back at the girl who stayed glued to her spot.

“Are you coming…” Stark trailed uncertain, “Or what?” He finished. Outstretching his hand to her form.

“I already said I won’t meet with him down here-”

“Which is why, were personally taking him to another safe location.” He answered, the smile on his features greased her into accepting his moist palm. Trusting him came like second nature to her.

They walked the same dirty hallway, entered the same lab coated scientist, and sat at the same desk the poor man graced with his presence.

After a while, Bucky came, he entered the door with much hesitation, But slammed it with much force once his dusty blues had landed on Tony.  His jaw locked, brows knitted, nose wrinkled and the frown that was perfectly painted to his face… all eased once he saw the face of the girl.

“Come on,” Tony spoke harshly. His hands resting on the elfin therapists shoulders as he squeezed them to indicate he was talking to the both of them. “Were leaving.” He turned around. But raised his hands in the air.

Both adults in the room were confused but flinched once the iron man suite started assembling over his body.

The girl turned around, sporting a smile towards Buchanan. Before releasing a pleasant whisper from between her chapped lips, “James-”

“It’s Bucky.” He grumbled. Fists clenched as men came behind him to lock him down before shoving him to walk out behind their bosses grazing trail.

“Bucky,” The bitty lady continued as she rushed out of her chair, bibliographies strummed to her breasts. Hair flying over her face and behind her back. “How are you?” She questioned, matching the fast pace of the indifferent soldiers.  "How was your week?“ She corrected her sentence as she noticed the man didn’t look her way.

He was like that last time she talked to him. After he had admitted his full name, he shut down like a power grid. Although that didn’t stop the prying therapist from asking him questions like what he had for food, where he slept, and how the people treated him down here, he never even spoke a word.

Albeit his eyes spoke for him, showed her the answers she’s been seeking to escape his sealed lips. He was scared. Because he knew what they wanted from him, he knew why Tony still had him alive.

They need Captain Americas hidden location, it was one hell of a merciless fight between Tony before the Winter Solider was knocked out cold.

Buchanan knew, once he trusts the girl with his secrets, she would tip Tony… and then they’ll execute him, just like he overheard them whispering from three rooms down.

"I don’t want to talk about it.” Bucky murmured gruffly, as he was gently told where to move.

The girl nodded, but smiled non the less. Her warm cinnamon pupils bore into his stainless steel ones, before James turned around and walked with the commanding directions.

“It’s fine,” She assured. Pushing past a guard beside him only to take his spot. She was close to him, and he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to.

This girl would be the end of him, no doubt.

She wasn’t happy…

James wasn’t happy….

Tony Stark wasn’t happy…

Secretary Ross wasn’t happy…

But they still moved on.

“Look,” The girl spoke softly, ushering a stray kitten over the small desk. She ran her small feeble fingers over the furry goodness. The cat in return meowed from all the love it was receiving. “Isn’t it so cute?” The therapist gushed, as she watched the kitten lay on its back and show its white tummy. Legs kicking about as the small feline awaited the love.

James hummed. His gaze not leaving the girl before him. She looked so happy, so free. But he knew she wasn’t someone he could trust, so keeping a safe distance from her was mandatory for his safety of course. Until his best friend could help him out.

“Say,” The lady cooed, “Do you want to pet it?” She pushed the cat over to Bucky- although the animal didn’t need much convincing as it jumped over its small little feet from side to side as it ran over to the buff man. Bucky not even having a choice to reject the offer, in his not so subtle way.

Bucky didn’t say a word. Albeit his eyes trailed down to the small white and orange spotted cat. Before he felt his flesh hand tugged by strings. He watched from afar as he- James had his hands over a cat. A living creature. It felt so foreign to him, a new experience. 

The cat meowed, bringing the super solider from his day dream, Stretching its limbs before its tail high rocketed.

“It likes you!” The girl stood up from her chair, then walked beside her patient. She knelt down to his level, resting her hand over his flesh shoulder. Her head almost rested over his own head full of hair.

“Get away.” Bucky spoke, he pushed his arm away from her hold. But kept the animal safe with his metal plates. “Don’t touch me.” Bucky instructed. His gaze hardening.

“Oh come on James-”

“Its Bucky.” He corrected for the nth time. This had been going on for three months now.

Three months that he’s been trapped in a facility under water. He thought it was better then Tony’s moldy old tower. But now he had given up over the idea of Steve finding him. He was basically off grid for good now.

“Well, I happen to like James.” She answered, shrugging her shoulders as she sat over her chair. “What do you have against people calling you James?” The lady mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear her snide remark. She was just so nice to him, not pushing for Information like Tony had begged.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” He deadpanned, his metal plates digging into the soft skin of her neck as he pulled her closer to him. “I’ll fucking kill you, if you don’t leave me alone.” He wrapped a hefty amount of her neck. She just sprang to hold onto him. But didn’t dare move. Nor anyone even dared to come between the two adults, she had made it clear, whatever he was doing- either he was hurting her or not- they had absolutely no rights to touch him whats so ever. 

He let go, after a while. Leaving her rubbing the sore spot. Coughing, she knelt down to grab her tissue. Then covered her mouth, emitting a deep throaty cough before wrapping it up and shoving it deep in her purse.

He was still playing with the cat, the deadly assassin was crazy. But she knew this was just for show. He knew more then what he was letting out.

“That’s not very nice, James.”

His glare shot back up to her, metal fingers tingling for her flesh.

“I’m just trying to be nice.” She shook her head. Before gathering her things. Books, pencils, and bag.

“You know I’m only here to help you.” She whispered. Standing beside him waiting for the small creature she smuggled in to come her way. “I really just want to help you Bucky.” Like that, she scooped up the bitty kitty. Walking away like every day, her round ass the only thing he would see before her simple body would become but a far memory.

Tagging: Still Open (=

Master List to read on what i have written: 

Also, Clarity coming out soon! 

@almondbuttercup @fricklefracklephan @lia-gilinsky @ifangirl-jewel @brooke-supernatural16 @icanteven25 @djlcstop @akm0o @chvck-shvrley @sergeant-james-bbarnes @thetruthin @colouredwater @mizzzpink @helloitsmaryblogme @fav-fan-fic @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @bvckys-doll @smilexcaptainx @just-another-fanfiction-writer @ihavehimontheropes @fandommaniacx @archer-whovian-violinist  @heismyhunter  @coffeeismylife28 @slashheartlover @accidentally-in-hell  

Originally posted by bitchevans

Has anyone else noticed the eye roll? 

If i didn’t tag you, please notify me,  might have missed you :)

Adam Milligan-Not like the others

Title: Not like the others

Pairings: Adam Milligan x reader

Word count:2232

Summary: Reader who is an angel is asked to look after Adam after he is tied up to Bobby’s chair so he won’t escape and say yes. 

Warnings: Smut! Dirty dirty fic.

“I do not understand…should I not be doing something of more importance?’‘You asked, cocking your head to the side as you stared at Sam without breaking eye contact.

Sometimes Sam and Dean found that a little nerve racking and had to tell you over and over again not to do it but you hardly listened. You were like Cas, just as oblivious and innocent. You were fearless and could fight many battles but when it came to it you still held your cellphone upside down and ran away from the loud blocks that emitted Dean’s music.

’'Please. This is important, Birdy.’'Dean pleaded, using his nickname on you that you never quite understood. You finally gave into his puppy dog eyes, rolling your shoulders back as you nodded.

They both thanked you, hugging you goodbye before the door shut.

You turned around, standing a few feet away from Adam as you cocked your head and stared at him. Adam’s eyes that were fixed on watching the pouring rain outside had now flickered over to you as he shuffled in his seat.

’'Anybody ever tell you that’s uncomfortable’'Adam grumbled under his breath, his eyes dropping to the floor before looking back at yours.

’'Yes’'You spoke calmly, not understanding. You walked closer, standing next to him as he titled his head to look up at you. ’'Does it make you uncomfortable, Adam? Shall I stop?’'You asked, cocking your head again.

Adam chuckled slightly before he looked away and shook his head. ’'No. It’s fine. You seem harmless anyway’'Adam muttered under his breath.

’'Harmless? I assure you I am no harmless creature’'You added, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. You reached over and unlocked his handcuffs, his eyes widened.

He rubbed his tender wrists before looking at you with surprise. ’'Why did you do that?’'He whispered, watching you.

’'You looked uncomfortable’'You shrugged, nodding your head slightly.

’'What if I escape?’'He questioned, even though he knew that deep down he didn’t want to be away from you. The moment you had fluttered into the room his heart had almost leaped out of his chest.

’'I assure you you will not try to escape, Adam’'You reassured.

Adam’s heart hammered at your constant repetition of his name. He loved the way it sounded, rolling off your tongue.

’'And why’s that?’'He asked, raising a thick blonde brow.

’'Because I shall smite you if you do’'You stated, no emotion in your voice as you stared at him without breaking eye contact.

His brows shot up, a feeling of worry rumbling in his stomach as he nodded silently. ’'You really aren’t as innocent as you seem are you’'He chuckled, licking his lips.

For some reason your eyes had followed his tongue that darted out to lick his thick lips, a feeling you had never experienced churning around you.

You said nothing but continued to watch him until he started to get up. He froze half way between and standing and sitting position as he looked at you.

’'Can I watch tv?’'He muttered, waiting for your approval. You had no idea what that was but nodded, watching his long legs uncurl themselves as he made his way over to the black box.

You followed him, watching him carefully as he reached forward and grabbed another slender black box and aimed it towards the smaller box before pressing a button.

The black box lit up, pictures moving inside of it and voices falling out. You jumped up, heart racing as you stalked over towards it. Your back was bent, hands out ready to attack as you moved so you were inches away.

You reached out, tapping it slowly with your finger and yelping when a voice started to talk. You fell back on your bottom, sitting like a shocked puppy as Adam grinned behind you.

’'The magical black box has little people trapped inside’'You mumbled, squinting your eyes at it. Adam almost burst into a fit of laughter at your statement but held himself back as he shook his head.

’'It’s okay, (Y/n). It’s called a tv. It’s just a recording’'He chuckled, helping you up. You sat beside him on the couch, your body awkwardly stiff and rigid as you watched it wearily.

Adam said nothing but felt the need to make you feel more confident around him but resulted in just turning up the volume. He flickered through the channels, biting his lip at the gasps you kept giving out as he tried not to chuckle at you.

He flickered past one channel where a girl had let out a shrill scream which managed to basically scare the crap out of you. Your had shot out, the black box making a bang sound and ending with a pop as it faded and steam rose from it.

’'Awh, (y/n)’'Adam groaned, his head slumping against the back of the couch. ’'You didn’t need to smite the tv. It was just a girl acting’'He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

’'I have upset you’'You stated, a guilty and hurt expression on your face. Adam looked up, noticing your sad expression as he sat up quickly.

’'No. It’s okay, (Y/n). It was just a mistake. Plus…I think it’s kinda cute how innocent you are…when it comes to this I mean’'He added quickly, not wanting you to get flustered.

Your cheeks lit up at his compliment towards you. ’'Well…what is there to do now?’'Adam asked, looking around. You sat straight, eyes burning into the wall as your hands clasped in your lap.

’'We can sit and think about the world’'You said, watching as Adam eyed you with a amused expression.

’'No thanks, that sounds boring’'He groaned, rolling his head back. Adam jumped, head shooting up and eyes widening when he felt you straddle his lap. His hands captured your waist nervously, his lap squirming as he cleared his shaky throat.

’'W-what are you doing?’'He mumbled, his eyes quickly falling to your chest before back up to your eyes.

’'I seem to remember that when people are bored they engage in intercourse together’'You reiterated, not quite understanding. Adam’s mouth dropped open as he shuffled again.

’'Where did you learn that?’'He asked in shock, surprised a angel would know that. You titled your head, confused about his shock before answering.

’'Dean’'You spoke gently. Adam rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side.

’'Of course’'He grumbled under his breath. He turned back to you and gave you a shaky smile. ’'Look, (Y/n). You’re beautiful and I’m flattered but-”

“You do not find me attractive’'You asked, titling your head.

’'W-what, no. Of course I find you attractive but, I don’t wanna take advantage of you. Sex-intercourse I mean, is something that you do with someone you feel…erm…a connection? yeah a connection with but you have feelings for them, feelings stronger than just friendship and well you’re an angel, I don’t exactly wanna take advantage and use something against you that you don’t really understand’'He explained, watching you with his big blue eyes and waiting.

’'But I do hold feelings for you that are stronger than friendship. I feel you and I share a profound bond. Is the feeling not mutual?’'You mumbled glumly, your eyes dropping.

’'You do? I mean, yeah, yes the feelings mutual and I- you-”

You cut Adam off by placing your lips softly to his. His eyes widened for a second before they flickered shut and his hands knotted into your hair.

Your fingers clasped at his shirt, head tilting as you pulled away and slowly opened your eyes too see him with his eyes still shut and a awe filled expression painted on his face.

“Adam’'You giggled softly, littering kisses along his jaw. A deep groan fell from his lips, one that you wanted to hear again and again and again.

You parted your lips and let his soft skin get captured between your teeth, soothing the red mark with your tongue. Your hips pivoted down, rolling against the harsh fabric of his jeans as you felt the heavy bulge thick against your thigh.

His calloused fingertips trailed up your legs, rubbing softly and squeezing the inside of your thigh. You finally pulled back, desperate to kiss his lips again as you slammed your lips on to his and ground your hips harder.

You fingers fumbled with his shirt, a animal like growl almost falling from your lips. Adam pulled back with a slight breathless chuckle, his hands pinning against your waist and pushing your back slightly.

You groaned, mewling for his already swollen lips as he grinned at you.

’'Woah, slow down’'He chuckled, leaning forward and gently kissing your collar bone. ’'We’ve got time’'He muttered, standing up and locking your legs around his waist.

Adam lowered the two of you to the ground, gently letting your back settle on the floor before he hovered above you and eased his body down onto yours without putting to much pressure on. 

He smoothed his palm up your thigh that was still locked around his waist, his lips moulding with yours and creating heat as you grabbed his short blonde locks and pulled. 

You cried out as he sat up between your thighs and stripped you of your top before locking his warm mouth around your nipple. His other hand cupped your chest and kneaded it. 

He lowered his head, littering kisses down your stomach before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans and tugged them down your legs. 

He sat up again, throwing off his shirt. You sat up and reached out for him, desperate to mould your fingertips against his silky skin and trace every scar and dip and curve. 

‘’Not yet, baby’’He hummed, the pet-name making something stir inside you as he gently bit your hipbone. His hands grasped the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling it teasingly down your thighs. 

‘’Adam’’You whined, shuffling on the cold floor. Adam chuckled, finally throwing them all the way off before he grasped your kneecaps and spread your legs. You blushed from the exposure but Adam’s slightly parted mouth and darkened eyes only served to make you feel more confident.

His lips clamped around your heat, tongue liking up a damp stripe as you cried out, your fingers locking into his hair. You whined his name repeatedly, hips squirming as his head bobbed between your legs, slowly devouring you greedily. 

His finger pushed at your entrance, slowly twisting inside as he pulled back before pushing back in again. 

‘’Adam’’You whispered shakily, your back arching. You cried out when he stopped, his warm mouth leaving where you needed him most. You watched him with a hurt and confused expression, pondering on what you did wrong. 

Adam chuckled, shaking his head. ‘’No, baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanna make you feel more good’’He purred in your ear, your heart hammering. How could he possibly make you feel better than you just did. 

Your thought was answered as he slid into you, a burning pain in your lower abdomen but when he started to gently rock his hips he began to coax sweet moans out of you and the pain turned to pleasure. 

‘’F-fuck’’He cursed, pivoting his hips downwards and hitting a sweet spot. He began to go faster, his hips pushing desperately at you as his eyes scrunched closed and his mouth hung open. 

‘’Uh, Adam’’You mumbled, your hands being pinned above your head as he quickened his pace. Curse words fell from his lips as he hugged his arms around your back and buried his head into your chest so he could move his hips at a deeper spot. 

Your toes curled, legs hugging his waist as your back began to arch. ‘’O-oh! Adam’’You yelped, clawing at his back. 

‘’Uh, fuck! You feel so good’’Adam groaned out, his breath catching short. 

Something snapped inside you, almost like a rope that was slowly about to break and it finally snapped and a overwhelming sensation fell over you. 

Adam followed shortly after, sighing as he slumped tiredly against you. He waited a few seconds until you had both relaxed and eased down before he pulled out.

Adam laughed at your bewildered expression, getting up so he could put his clothes back on. He stood above you, licking his lips when he noticed you were just laying on the floor and not getting changed. 

‘’As much as I love this sight, you should probably get changed before they get back’’Adam chuckled. Adam stood and waited but you didn’t move so he had to kneel back down and help you get dressed. 

‘’I think I may be dying’’You grumbled. Adam’s hands froze as he finally had your jeans on and was doing up your button. His head slowly looked towards you with a shocked expression. ‘’I feel very weak’’

Adam let out a sigh of relief before laughing. ‘’It’s okay, you’re just tired. A lot of people feel tired after that’’He chuckled. 

‘’Angels do not get tired though’’You whispered in confusement. Adam rolled his eyes at you before picking you up. 

‘’A lot of angels don’t have sex either’’He muttered, pecking your forehead. He carried you over to Dean’s cot that he was using for staying at Bobby’s and laid you down in it before tugging the blanket over you. 

He smoothed back your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

‘’Goodnight my little guardian angel’’

Old Souls

{A Scarlet Heart: Ryeo fan fiction}

Set immediately after the end of episode 20.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Ever since that surreal encounter in the gallery, Jin Woo had not been himself. Or rather, he hadn’t only been himself. He’d been himself and somebody else entirely. Like he was sharing real estate in his own head.

He sank disconsolately onto his living room couch, nursing a split lip with a bag of chipped ice, and trying to figure out what he was going to do with himself for the next four weeks of “voluntary” leave his supervisor had all but mandated that he take until he’d “gotten his shit together.”

He wished he could say that things had only started to fall apart in that morning’s staff meeting. That there hadn’t been any warning signs he was about to have a very public metal breakdown until he’d sent a paperweight flying—with surprising speed and accuracy—at that idiot intern’s head. But he’d noticed something was wrong way before that. What was worse, other people had noticed too. Casual acquaintances had started asking him if everything was alright with his family, if he needed somebody to talk to or maybe a couple days to clear his head. He’d ignored them all, stubbornly insisting that he could handle it on his own, whatever it was. He hadn’t even thought to connect the mood swings or the sudden the violent urges with the crying woman among the Goryeo-era paintings nor the intense recurring dreams he’d been having ever since.

Not until now, anyway.

Now he had a referral for a psychiatrist in Gangnam, a possible pending assault charge (thankfully that intern was quick on his feet and had ducked at the last second), and four weeks of unpaid time off in which to think things through to his heart’s content.

Keep reading

Creepypasta #165: Chicken Bones

Hi! No, you’re not late at all! Please, come in. Say, don’t I know you from somewhere? You’re one of those pretty famous reporters, right? You seem really familiar. Can I get you some tea or coffee, or would you rather get-on with the interview? Sorry, I don’t know how this works; I’ve never been interviewed before. I pretty much shut myself off from the press after those kids went missing. I didn’t need that kind of attention. I suppose I’ll start my story by setting the scene.

The village of Tir Gulwyn is pretty quiet nowadays. It wasn’t always so; back in the 90s, the Mayor was given a government grant to build a new school which would cater for all the small towns and hamlets in the surrounding valleys. I was fresh-out-of University back then- just finished my training to become a teacher, and eager to start my first professional job, so I was thrilled to be offered a place at the Tir Gulwyn Infants’ School. I could finally prove myself by doing something I loved.

The dolls changed all that.

A thick fog had rolled-over the mountains and was dribbling down into Gulwyn Valley, clinging to the top of the lake, and probing at the town with slim tendrils carried on a light winter breeze. The school bus had already arrived, and the children were lining up to go inside, shivering in their anoraks and school-jumpers. I skimmed the register and noted that all were present, except for a five-year-old boy called Gavin Lewis. His photograph, a gap-toothed boy with straw-coloured hair, grinned up at me from the paper. Reassuring myself that attendance could not always be perfect, I ushered my class indoors and, shooting one last, hopeful glance out into the white-tinged street beyond the railings, shut the door behind me.

My first lessons went well: an introductory session, to allow the kids to settle-in and make friends on their first day, and then a reading-group. The Hungry Caterpillar was a huge success, and the children left to change for gym in their respective changing-rooms. I wandered outside. It was pretty chilly, and I was just debating whether or not to hold the class indoors when I heard it: a hollow rattling noise.

“Hello?” I called. There was no reply, but I followed the sound to the playground gate, which backed onto the main-road out of town.


There was a little doll tied to the bars. I regarded it for a moment: a slightly misshapen object, with a wool-body and a face made from some kind of white, ceramic material. A tangle of gaudy yellow thread was attached to its head, and the face had a disturbingly vacant, gap-toothed smile. The face of little Gavin Lewis came to mind, and I unhooked the doll from its string gibbet. It felt odd as I turned it over in my hands; heavier than it should have been, and solid beneath the soft exterior.

I took it back to the empty classroom and examined it further. There was a seam up the back which seemed deliberately loose. I tugged at it, and the doll just fell-apart in my hands. Bones, small and dry, spilled out onto my desk, with a clatter which echoed the noise of running feet outside the door. I pulled my jacket over the mess just as the classroom was suddenly filled with excited children ready to play outside. My heart was pounding and, despite the cold day, I realised that I was sweating. What the fuck had I just found?

“Children…” I shouted “…we’re going to have P.E indoors today, okay?”

This was met with a chorus of disappointed groans, but no objections, and they filed-through into the gym-hall.

I arranged for one of the other teachers to keep an eye on the class, then hurried to the staffroom. I found the number for Gavin’s parents in the school’s register and dialled it. No answer. I left an urgent request for his mother to contact me, then went to tell the headmistress. I showed her the bones, and she went white.

“Are they human?” she asked. I told her I had no idea. After a moment’s deliberation, we phoned the police. The first officer to enter the room recoiled at the sight.

“Lord above…” he cried. His colleague turned one of the larger ones over in his hands.

“They’re chicken bones.” he told us. I asked him if he was sure, and he told me that he’d grown up on a farm, and was therefore well-acquainted with animal bones.

“What happens now?” asked the headmistress “It’s obvious that this is some kind of threat, or at the very least, a sick joke.”

The men gathered-up the remains of the doll, and took some of Gavin’s records. I was assured that they would keep an eye on the school. True to their word, another patrol car pulled-up outside the gates, just as the first one left.

Strangely enough, the rest of that day was… fairly normal. The kids cottoned-on to the mute horror being displayed by their teachers, but aside from a general air of nervousness, the schedule proceeded as normal. Eventually, the school-day ended and parents (unaware of the eerie happenings) arrived en-mass to collect their children. Those left caught the bus home. We did our best to make sure that everyone got away okay, but were wary about telling anyone what had happened. We didn’t want a panic, especially when we didn’t know what was going on yet. I was told that the police would call me in the morning to take a statement, and that I should go home.

The next morning, I checked my phone, but there was nothing from the police. I suppose I wasn’t really surprised. This was 1998 – post Stephen Lawrence Inquiry, so the police’s reputation throughout the UK was at an all-time low. Such an oversight was definitely possible in my book. I waited for an hour, but figured that if they desperately needed to contact me, they could phone the school.

I arrived a little later than usual, actually meeting some of the children as their parents dropped them off. This, coupled with the patrol-car now-parked on the corner, reassured me for a time. It took me fifteen minutes to realise that the bus had not arrived. The playground was almost empty in comparison with the previous day. I put the few kids present to work on some story-writing, and phoned the bus-company. No, they hadn’t heard from the driver. He was probably just caught in traffic on his way through the next town along.

Yeah, right.

I felt ill. Something awful had happened to those children. The crushing pain of guilt hit me then. I should have warned the parents the day before. I needed air, and I stumbled into the playground.

I heard it then. The faint rattling sound. I can only describe it as like that of a bead-curtain, swaying in the wind. On auto-pilot, nausea forgotten, I wandered to the gate.


Along the fence, in neat rows of identical gibbets, hung thirty-two little dolls. I didn’t need to look at the register. I’ve always been good with faces. The children smiling up at me from their desks the day before were smiling at me now; faces frozen in an elation.

There was something off about their eyes though: painted in-detail on the ceramic heads, the eyes told a different story. Fear, pain and anguish registered in their expressions. Everything is a bit of a blur after that. I remember hammering on the window of the police car outside. It was about then that I saw the dolls inside: slightly larger than the child-dolls, and dressed in immaculate little police uniforms complete with crude, yet shiny epaulettes.

I slammed the classroom door behind me and, no longer caring whether the children knew something was up, began to cry. What the fuck had I done to deserve this? I must have passed out at some point, because I woke up on the beanbags in the reading-room with a doctor taking my pulse. I tried to speak, but my voice was a hoarse whisper. The man reassured me that the children had been taken home, and that the school was closed.

More patrol cars were arriving by that time. They rolled out the crime-scene tape, and I think I heard a helicopter going by. I was obviously in no fit state to give an interview, but I managed to tell them everything I knew, before I was taken to hospital to be treated for shock. As they escorted me to a waiting ambulance, a reporter shoved a camera in my face and tried to take a photo. A policeman shoved him back as he did so, and I was shut inside the vehicle away from prying eyes.

That almost concludes my part in this story. I quit my job and didn’t leave my house for weeks following the incident, with one exception. It had been raining, and the fog outside seemed to have all-but been washed away. I was listening to the local radio station, when they began to jabber about a supposedly important update in the missing children case. Hikers had found the school bus, empty but intact, part-way up a nearby mountain. Police were said to have closed-off a nearby farmhouse and barn, and weren’t letting anyone through.

Needless to say, I made my way up to the house. The area was heavy with reporters, and even as I parked-up, TV crews were setting-up for the mid day news bulletins. Another thing that I noticed were the chickens: several hundred, at least, roaming apparently wild all-over the compound. A uniformed officer abruptly halted my advance, blocking the garden gate. Over his shoulder, I glimpsed forensics’ teams moving into the house. What the hell had they found in there? “Sorry mate, crime scene. You’re not allowed in.”

“Please” I said “you don’t understand, I need to know what’s happened.”

“We’ll tell the press in good time, but for now I’m going to need you to get back to the cars.”

I went home, but kept the television on. For most of the day, they just repeated the same arbitrary details: that the house was unoccupied, that no arrests had been made and the like.

That evening, however, things changed. They played a short clip which looked to have been shot from a mobile phone (allegedly leaked footage). The cameraman is standing in a narrow hallway, which ends with a downward staircase. He then descends into the darkness and for a moment, it looks as though the clip has ended on a black-screen. Suddenly, a dim electric light snaps on, and reveals a basement-area, with damp stone walls, floor and ceiling. He pauses and lets the camera pan over the area. The entire room is filled with strings of what appear to be white beads on strings, wall-height. The camera zooms in, and the beads become bones. But these aren’t just chicken bones: they’re not broken-up into fragments like the bones in the dolls. It’s clear what they are, and I suppress the urge to vomit.

Finger bones. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of tiny finger bones, dangling from strings like a macabre curtain. The cameraman mumbles some horrified curse, and the video ends abruptly.

I went up there the other week. I’d just got your email, asking to do the interview, and it got me thinking. It’s been so many years, and I wanted to see for myself. I know, it’s breaking-and-entering, but come on: I had to know what it was like. Perhaps the police missed something: they never caught anyone, and nobody ever found the rest of the remains, so in a way, I was helping the investigation! It’s not like anyone goes up there any more.

The boards across the door-frame were rotten-through, and it was fairly easy to crowbar my way inside. They cut the power a few months after it happened, so I had to rely on my torch, which narrowed my search considerably. I did find something, though.

I’m guessing that they never searched that coal-shed behind the house. It was another cellar-area: cramped, and containing just a workbench and a few barrels of chicken-feed. I pried one of them open and poked at the stuff inside with my crowbar: ordinary feed, mixed with a powdery, white substance. I glanced over at the desk, at which sat a mortar-and-pestle. Inside, what appeared to be a half-ground bone (though human or chicken, I could not say).

I was about to leave and to run to the authorities, when I saw the files under the workbench. Generic, plastic sleeves for keeping documents safe from the elements. They were dated: one every five years, with the earliest being in the mid-1970s, and the latest being dated in the 1990s. I flipped the latter open and tipped its contents onto the tabletop.

Photographs. Photographs of children in a playground, apparently taken from inside a car. Near the back of the pile, there was a picture of two police officers in a patrol-car, oblivious to the presence of the photographer. The final picture…

…the final picture was of me. Not just any picture, though. I remembered exactly where I was when it was taken. Blurred by movement, and partially obscured by the hand of a police officer shoving the photographer away, I could just about make out myself, being bundled into the ambulance.

There was one other object in the folder: a doll. It was only half finished: the face had not yet been completed, and one of the arms had not yet been fully attached. The resemblance was uncanny, however. Everything was familiar, from the brown suit, right down to the stupid teddy-boy hairstyle which I had in the 90s.

The doll was me.

No, not at all, I was glad to help. I guess sometimes we get-over events by reliving them enough times. I just hope I don’t get in trouble for the break-in part. You won’t publish that, right? Good. What’s that? A fresh photograph of me? Sure, yeah. Go ahead.


I was unable to find the author  this creepypasta

Room (D.O.)

Originally posted by kyvngsoo

“Kyungsoo did you bring in all the boxes?”

“Yes baby, everything’s out of the van.”

You and Kyungsoo have been dating for a while now, and you both agreed that it was time to take the relationship a bit further. You already practically lived with him, so moving in permanently would save on rent and gas. You were there almost every day and spent more nights at his place than your own.

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Longass ask answer bc I’m stupid


If the Midnight Cinderella boys had blogs what would they blog about? What are their urls? Who would have the most followers? Who spends the most time on it? Do they follow each other?”

I got carried away >.> this is ridiculously long, I seriously apologise to the person who asked. 

 Anyway, here we go, huehuehuehue… Just some ideas, and collating the answers for each character together to make it more organised ;) this is assuming that they’re with and/or like the MC, including her as a potential followed blog bc I want to ahahaha :D

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Hound’s Tarot Q&As: Beginning Tarot & New Diviners

So I’ve rummaged through my old blog’s archive of messages and I originally wanted to move the questions over here and just reformat them, but I found that a lot of my points, while still valid, didn’t resonate with me now, and I acknowledge that I’ve grown and evolved as a reader, and thus will answer them anew, from a fresh perspective on this blog. Some questions have been rewritten for fluency.

So this is just one of a few sections I’ll be doing for these, I noticed that there was a ridiculous amount of “Beginner” questions that I was asked so I’m going to start with those first as they made up the bulk. Here we go (in no particular order)!

“When starting Tarot, is there a specific deck you would suggest. Also, Would you say that learning spreads is needed?”

When beginning starting tarot, there’s no specific deck you need to start with, just pick one you like and find the art easy to derive meaning. Alternatively, some readers will argue that its good to start with the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, and to an extent, I agree; It’s a very good idea to explore the recognized foundation for modern tarot, but that’s about where it ends for me because it’s not ESSENTIAL to your success as a reader. Spreads on the other hand, is part of territory with tarot; Spreads act as a framework for your cards and give your cards’ meanings a context, it seems only natural to take it upon yourself to learn a couple, but I suppose integrating spreads into your tarot practice isn’t mandatory. Many readers read without a spread and just rely on intuition to guide the message, I do this myself sometimes just to keep myself fresh and get the cogs turning. So you’ll be fine either way, but I would suggest learning a couple spreads just for the sake of training if you don’t plan to actually use them in your practice.

“Do you read with your cards everyday? I’m having trouble with wanting to read them all the time but not sure what to read about.”

It depends, I’d be lying if I said I read 365 days out of the year, but I do make an effort nowadays to do at least a daily draw. It’s okay to not read every day to be honest, nothing says you have to, you’re still a valid tarot reader otherwise (although it’s a good idea to, to stay engaged). But if you’re wanting to read every day, there’s certainly a few things you could consider; One would be doing a simple daily draw in the morning with the question “What is my focus for today” as an easy way to get some insight into the day. You could try doing a daily/weekly forecast spread to keep yourself consistent. I usually do a forecast spread every Sunday for the week ahead, that way you get into a routine with it.

“I want to use my cards a lot more but I’m not sure how “

you can do quite a bit with Tarot and Oracle cards! I personally use my Druid Animal Oracle for spell work as totems (items that act as a significator for your spells - either as a target or a means of drawing energy). I hosted a small mourning ritual using The Fool as a significator for my friend who passed from Cancer this year to see her safe passage through the other side. Tarot and Oracle cards are also GREAT story-telling devices if you’re a writer; you can set them up as plot points and go from there! You can use your cards as a meditation tool; By simply sitting with a card you want to emulate by candle-light and incense (or whatever you find inspiring) and focusing on the colors, and the energy that card represents - try to pick out helpful symbolism, think about ways you’ve experienced the messages the card relays in your own life, think about the energy the card presents; what associations do you make with it. This is a good before bed exercise, as it causes you to wind down a bit and you retain what you experience right before you sleep and you’ll connect with your cards that way too.

“Do you think it’s better to buy a tarot deck or make one?”

I don’t think it matters much personally! If you can’t find anything on the market that’s already made that you connect with, making one would surely be a great (and ambitious) idea.

“Do you know of any good places to find tarot decks for cheap?”

I personally have only ever bought decks from Chapters/Indigo, and Amazon. Both of which have an excellent selection. Many decks are only around $18~$30 some oracle decks are as low as $14 depending on your budget and what you’re looking for. I’ve heard through the rumor mill that thrift shops sometimes carry them, and used book stores if you’re lucky (although I have never seen such wonders myself, maybe that’s more of a US thing)!

“I’ve heard a gifted deck is more powerful than a bought one, is this true?”

No, not at all, I place power solely on the reader. The cards are a medium for the reader’s energies and given life by the psyche. The gifted deck theory probably has it’s roots in greed and elitism if you ask me; I feel like it was made in attempts to keep “competition” thin, uphold reputation, and instill a dependency on seekers. But I have no proof of this, so take it with a grain of salt. But let me just reiterate: your deck in no way has to be gifted to you to validate it for use in your practice.

“I’m still learning to do tarot and I get confused as to what the cards are telling me. Do you have any advice on how to get more familiar with your deck?“

First of all, I want to say the keywords here are “still learning” so it may just be a matter of patience and more exposure to your cards and spending a little more time with the guidebook and practicing spreads, everybody in the tarot community struggles with this at one point or another. That being said I firmly believe that you need to sit down with your deck and go through the cards one by one and develop feelings for them and meanings, I followed the 78 Day Tarot Challenge which you can find HERE . I strongly suggest this process as it helped me become more confident as a reader. Also, the booklets that come with your decks are merely suggestions; they are not the only way the cards can be interpreted. The booklets are what the deck’s designer(s) had in mind when designing the card but that’s not the only way to read them. Don’t be scared to stray from the prescribed meanings deck to deck. I know I do. Its what the imagery means to you and how it makes you feel. Alternatively, rather than the cards and our understanding of them being the solution here, I think its a good idea to tend to yourself first; The cards are the paint for OUR energy, intent, and karma, we hold the brush; what make on the canvas is entirely by our own hand and vision. The cards themselves aren’t responsible for how we view and interpret them. Their role is relatively minor in the grand scheme of things, so sometimes it can be more beneficial to work inward and look for blockages within ourselves before we submit to the idea that things just aren’t working out.

“How, exactly, does one do a reading without having the other person in front of them?”

This is one of those questions you could ask 10 different readers and get 10 wildly different answers. But I believe we’re all connected, we’re all made of the same material that the universe threw up however many eons ago, and at a primal level are threaded to each other by that connection, even on the spiritual level. So if you “feel them” as your reading for them and feel you’ve established a connection I feel that’s what it is. Personally I sometimes can’t make the connection right off the bat. You feel it click, if you actually try to reach out on the spiritual level to another person’s soul you’ll know when you’ve reached it.

This is it for now, this will be updated as more come in. Hopefully this is helpful to some of you.

With love and with luck,

- Hound

Etsy | Contact

Halloween Safety,And Advice

Safety Tips!!!!

  • DO NOT USE OUIJA BOARDS! I don’t care if you believe in them or not, don’t do it.
  • Stick to the brands you know, if you’re new, ask someone you know or follow that can tell you.
  • Try to avoid cheap fake blood, the cheaper bloods will stain your skin(its happened to me so many times I just make my own now) if you want a cheap fake blood, try make your own, there is 1000 different ways you can, just google it.
  • Don’t leave your pets outside, please keep them in, fireworks will scare your pet, which can cause trauma, or even cause them to run away, so its best to be with them. 
  • Also people have been known to pick up animals they see around and taunt/hurt them, another reason the keep them inside. THIS IS EVEN MORE COMMON TO HAPPEN TO BLACK FURRED PETS
  • DO NOT leave pets get near candy/chocolate/cakes, these foods are high in sugars and fats which can cause pancreatitus, or even poison them.
  • Make sure the face paints you are using or buying are non-toxic, if you’re unsure and the packaging doesn’t state, please google it.
  • If you have a child, check the candy they have gotten before they eat it, just to be safe.

Costume Advice/Tips

  • If you’re stuck between doing Disney or doing scary/gory, why not do both? Maybe the princess/prince was finally caught by the villian! What happened to them?!?! BAM perfect compromise for your indecisiveness
  • If you are worried about wearing/doing the costume you want because of people might think, go for it anyway, firstly screw them, and secondly, its Halloween! Enjoy it!
  • If you want to do Halloween but you don’t have the money, buy some liquid latex, its only about 2£, and just create wounds on yourself, add some fake blood(which you can make at home for free!) and you’re a horror movie character, or a murder victim.
  • Don’t wear anything restricting, if you need to run, you need to be able to.
  • Do not wear anything that make effect your sight, the best time is to usually wear face paint instead of a mask.
  • To create liquid latex wounds: Put a little layer of L.L the size of the desired wound, put on one ply layer of tissue, and repeat about 3 times, or more if you want a deeper wound. Leave dry for a few, then take safety scissors or tweezers and cut the wound into the tissue, for a scar just do a straight line. Roll the flaps and fill in with black and red face paint, lipstick, or eye shadow. If you want the tissue skin coloured, just do so with foundation. Then, just squeeze the fake blood into your wound, and around it how you wish.

Pumpkin Advice

  • DO NOT cut the bottom of the pumpkin off instead of the top, the reason you need to cut the top is so you can take it off, or have it slightly off for the flame and smoke. The smoke needs somewhere to go, and when the top is there the flame will just burn the top of your pumpkin.
  • Carve your pumpkin on your lap, not on a table, its easier to control and reach on your lap.
  • Use an ice-cream, or potato scoop to hollow your pumpkin.
  • Sprinkle cinnamon or nutmeg into the pumpkin, it will smell like pumpkin pie. 
Werewolf Ashton Imagine - Part 1

Part of you didn’t want to go visit your relatives, but you were forced to go seeing as how you really hadn’t seen them in a long time and it seemed fair since they had visited you last time during summer. It’s not that you disliked your relatives; you were really close to them, especially your cousin. But what you disliked was that it was literally in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by forests and such, you did like nature, but this was too much for you to handle.

But today actually made you notice that maybe it wasn’t that bad out here. The day was so sunny and warm that as the sun’s rays hit your skin it felt like a warm blanket was surrounding you, and as you looked up, there were few clouds painted in the sky as a gentle breeze made the leaves move. You knew that you had to go out and take a walk outside.

You were pulling up into the driveway and noticed that there waiting on the porch was your cousin with a bright smile on her face as she waved hello to you.

“Long time no see (Y/N)”, she said as she literally ran to give you a hug the moment you stepped out of your car.

“It’s only been a summer, (cousin name)”, you said with a smile as you hugged her back.

“A summer too long, my mom has been cooking food all day for you” she said as she went to go and reach for your bags to lead you into the room that you usually stayed.

“Hey do you think she would mind if I take a walk, I mean it’s a nice day and I just want to stretch my legs”, you said as you looked out the window and noticed that the day was just getting prettier and prettier.

“I don’t know (Y/N), I don’t think that would be safe”, she said nervously.

“Why wouldn’t it be safe, I mean it’s only two in the afternoon, it’s not dark at all or anything”, you said not understanding why she wouldn’t let you go.

“There have been recent sightings of a wolf near the town, and apparently it’s the size of a bear or something, we usually get wolves around here, but this one is really close to the town”, she said with a worried look on her face.

“Please (cousin name), I promise to stay on the trail, I just really want to go”, you didn’t know why but you just needed to go outside and see the trail

“Well, I guess it’s alright as long as your stay on the trail, and you should be back before sunset”, she said still a bit worried but you knew that she couldn’t say no to you, you were her favorite cousin, “do you want me to go with you?”

“Do you want to go?” you asked in return.

“Not really, I was working on a few things”, she answered.

“Fine, I don’t mind, I’m just going to tell my aunt hello and be back in an hour”, you said switching into an older pair of shoes that you didn’t mind getting dirty.

“Just be careful”, she said with a worried look.


You honestly don’t know what she was talking about. How could it be dangerous, you had been on the hiking trail for about twenty minutes, and nothing, everything was just as peaceful as you imagined it. The sun was shining on your skin just warming you up so nicely. But you were still tempted to go off the trail; it was just calling out to you.

So you went off the trail.

You were going into the woods, it wasn’t a bad decision, since you remembered spending countless summers in these woods playing hide and seek and well it made you go down memory lane as you continued walking. You were just going deeper into the woods, but you still couldn’t find any signs of this large wolf, which you were glad for, since you didn’t know what you would do if you did see it.

You were walking with a smile on your face, you were deep in the woods, and realized that maybe you did need to go back had head home, but as you were going to turn….

You heard a twig snap.

Your blood ran cold, you hoped that it was just a small animal or something, but as you looked through the corner of your eye, there standing feet away from you was a large sandy colored wolf. Your heart skipped a beat as you observed the wolf that was the size almost the size of a bear if not taller. What we’re going to do, you had no idea what to do. It kept staring at you, it didn’t look hostile but that didn’t mean that couldn’t change in a few seconds if you made a wrong move.

The sandy blond wolf took another step, and you instinct were to back up one step, it took another cautious step and you instantly hit the back of the tree. You were trapped, and the wolf made no attempt to stop approaching you. You quickly looked up and noticed that it was sturdy enough to climb and you did just that.

You didn’t know that you could climb trees, but I guess with the adrenaline in your veins you were able to do so.  The wolf continued to approach you, but never once it look hostile, in fact it looked curious as to who or what you were. The wolf sat about ten paces away from the tree and looked up at you, it head cocked to the side, and noticed that this wolf had hazel eyes, piercing hazel eyes that seemed to have some sort of intelligence in them, as it stared at you.

“No, I’m not coming down for you to eat” you said to the animal, surprising yourself, in the fact that you were talking to it like it was some sort of person.

It cocked its head to the other side as if it was listening but hadn’t understood what you said. But instead of repeating yourself, you sat still and looked in the other direction, praying that the wolf would lose interest in you and leave you alone, but with your luck that might not be possible.

A few minutes had passed, and right now you were regretting not bringing your phone, you could have called for help and you wouldn’t be in this mess, but nope you left it charging at your cousin’s home. You heard footsteps again and looked down you noticed that instead of leaving; the wolf was pacing around the tree. It finally noticed you and immediately sat down, with and opened its mouth and let its tongue hang.

“Go away” you hissed, “I’m not food”. You kept trying to shoo away the wolf but instead of scaring it, the only thing it made the wolf do was wag its tail in amusement.

You never noticed how much time had passed; it could have been a few minutes, or maybe more than an hour. You tried to avoid the sandy blond wolf, still hoping that it would lose interest in you. But in fact it was doing the exact opposite; it would sit and stare at you, or lie down. It did never growl or approach your tree at all, making you believe that it wouldn’t hurt you, but there was still a little doubt in your mind. Your legs were beginning to cramp and could feel your feet begin to tingle like pins and needles, but there was no way that you were leaving the tree with the wolf so close to you.

The wolf would pace the tree and before he say down covering its nose with one paw, as if trying to win you over with its cuteness, but seeing the size of this wolf you knew that with that size he could easily take anyone down.

A light yipping sound pulled you out of your thoughts and made you look down to the wolf that just yipped at you.


The wolf tilted its head.

“Are you getting bored down there?”


“Then go find someone else to bother” you said as the wolf laid down and covered its eyes with its paws almost as if you had hurt its feelings.

You could feel your stomach begin to growl, and you knew that you had been out here for a long time, and you really needed to get back. You looked down at the wolf and noticed that it looked at you directly in the eyes before it stood up and trotted away looking at you one more time before it disappeared farther into the woods.

This was your chance to get away before it decided to come back and maybe hurt you. So you quickly scurried down the tree as fast as you could without hurting yourself. Your legs felt a bit wobbly still feeling a few pins and needles like sensation, but you had to push through before that large wolf came back.

You had to get back on the trail, because you doubted that the wolf would be willing to follow you there, but there was one thing that suddenly came to mind. In the heap of panic, you suddenly forgot how to get back. You looked left and right, not sure which way would lead you deeper into the woods or which way would lead you back home. Everything just looked the same, what if back home was either to your left or right, but behind you, or in front of you.

You were officially lost, so you went with your instincts and went right.

You could feel yourself begin to panic as you walked farther right, still not seeing anything that was familiar to you, but maybe this was way was the right way, you just had to go a bit farther, and if not you could retrace your steps. Right?

You were walking into a clearing but felt your blood turn cold a second time that day because there on the other side of the clearing was the sandy blond wolf.

The giant wolf took a few paces towards you, and it was so close to you. Sensing that you were scared he lowered his head, almost as if to tell you that he wasn’t a threat to you, its ears flattened as he looked up at you with hazel eyes, trying to convince you that he wouldn’t hurt you at all.

"Okay…okay you promise not to eat me?” you said holding your hands out, like the way you would for a dog to sniff your hand.

The wolf slowly leaned into your palm, feeling its cold wet nose on your palm before sniffing it a bit, before leaning its head into your hand almost as it wanted you to pet him.

You pet its soft fur on the top of his head and it relaxed into it letting you pet him, and it made you smile making you think that it was some sort of dog rather than a wolf.

“Ok, I’m going to go home now; you can run along to your home ok? I’m fine now, see?” you said as you slowly backed away from the large animal, never once turning your back towards it , in case it decided to become hostile.

“Yip!” the wolf said, hopping up to his full height, startling you because it was then that you noticed that this wolf was a few inches taller than you, mankind you actually look up to meets its hazel eyes. You tried to remain calm but how could you when this thing was taller than you were.

“Yip!” it said pacing around in place gesturing behind him with his head.

“No, no I’m definitely not going with you” you said to him, continuing to back away slowly.

“Yip! Yip!” It said, stomping a foot. If the wolf were a human you would think he was annoyed with you.

It looked in the direction you were heading to and lightly growled, scaring you quite a bit, and then gestured behind itself, and bounced and yipped.

“Am I going the wrong way?” you asked thinking that maybe this wolf was trying to help you out of the woods


Now you knew you were in some sort of shock, instead of trying to get away from the wolf, you were now going to follow it to wherever it was it was going to lead you. You followed him and for some reason you did feel safe with this wolf, for some reason you knew that it wouldn’t hurt you, in fact it was helping you. Every now and then you would see the wolf stare at you to make sure that you were following him and to make sure you were alright.

You could begin to see the forest clearing and you knew that in fact this wolf was right, he was leading you home. Although you weren’t sure were you were but at least you were getting home. The wolf beside you stopped moving and sat down, not wanting to get any closer to town. You stopped and turned to face it, with a smile on your face, “thank you for getting me home”

His ears perked with happiness as he leaned his head down and began to nuzzle its face into your hand. You instinctively began to pet its head, feeling his tail begin wag enjoying the attention he was receiving, “your just like a big puppy aren’t you?” you said as you continued to pet him and he yelped in happiness. “Well I have to get back home, thank you a lot, I would have probably still been lost” you said as you pet him one last time.

The wolf gently nudged you toward the trail up ahead before running towards the woods again.

You were walking out of the forest and looked around trying to solve where you were, but you really never knew this part of town so this was new to you. You looked around hoping to find someone that can take you home, but so far it seemed that there was no one walking in the streets. Your best bet was to head to the center of the town and hopefully find a street that was familiar to you. You were about to do that, till you heard footsteps near you.

For a second you thought that it might have been the wolf that had followed you here, but you were worried for him, since you knew that he was kind, but who know what others thought and could maybe hurt him. But as you turned you saw a fairly tall boy with curly dirty blond hair run up to you.

“Are you lost?” he said as he walked up to you, a bit out of breath as he smoothed out his clothes.

“Just a bit”, you answered in return.

“Do you need help getting home, I would be glad to help you”, he said with a dimpled smile, that made you lightly blush.

“Sure that would be a great help, do you happen to know where (your aunt name) lives?” you asked.

“Yea, there a few blocks from here over there, I’d gladly walk you there”, he answered as he pointed where your aunt lived.

“Thanks…” hoping that he would give you his name.

“My names Ashton, Ashton Irwin”, he said with a wide smile as you noticed that he had a beautiful shade of hazel eyes, but somewhat familiar to those of the wolf you had just seen, “don’t think I’ve seen you around? Are you new here?”

“I’m just visiting my family here, my names (Y/N)”, you offered.

“Well (Y/N), let’s get you home, don’t know if you heard but there has been sightings of a large wolf in this town and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to meet this wolf”, he said as he began walking.

Oh he had no idea.


Finally part one of werewolf Ashton is done, I’ve been meaning to write and post this for a while and I thought that I would never get done.


Sorry if I haven’t updated in a while, just been getting ready for finals and going to have to study for those, but yea, really hope you aren’t made.



WELL BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fighting with Fire (1)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Monster AU
Word Count: 1845
Pairing: ChanyeolxFemale reader

“If he was the Monster, how was she the one left feeling like the bad guy?”


The emboldened letters blinked menacingly on the data screen in her hands, informing Y/N of her charge for today’s shift. An uneasy hum of disapproval worked it’s way between her lips as she pressed down with the pad of her pointer finger, and swiped.

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anonymous asked:

Something sweet and cute from rat dad and cinnamon roll? please?

*pat pat* sure, I can do that. I think.


                                       Something Sweet (Ao3)

It’s getting close to noon now, and Callista doesn’t know what to do anymore. So it’s with no small reluctance that she finds herself outside Corvo’s closed door, hand poised to knock, guilt making her falter several times before she winds up the courage to finally rap her knuckles on the paint chipped wood.

“Corvo? Are you awake?” she knocks again, a little harder.  “I’m sorry to do this, I know you haven’t slept much but Emily is refusing to eat and I don’t know what to do. She just keeps asking for you.”

Callista jumps with fright when the door opens, her hand coming to her throat in surprise. She hadn’t heard any movement from behind the door, so to have it suddenly flung open and have a bed-headed Corvo squinting at her from behind red rimmed eyes is more than a little alarming.

“She won’t eat?”

Callista shakes her head, “She wouldn’t eat dinner last night either when she found out you were gone. I’ve tried playing with her and even threatened to take her crayons away but…” she falters, giving him a helpless little shrug. It’s hard to deny Emily her small joys, the child has been through so much that any form of punishment seems unnecessarily cruel. “She either just sits and sulks or cries hard enough to make herself sick. I don’t know what to do.”

“Why didn’t she come up here?” he asks, voice raspy, harsh with sleep as he turns away, pulling his boots on over bare feet and only bothering to half tie the laces. He can’t have been home long she realizes, and from the look of him he’s probably slept in his clothes. Her eyes widen a second later when he pulls the loose fitting undershirt up and over his shoulders, revealing a lithe and scarred physique, the muscles in his back moving fluidly as he pulls another clean one on. It’s only a moment but it’s enough to leave Callista breathless and forget he asked her a question. When he turns, one eyebrow raised at her. Callista shakes herself.

“We thought it best to let you sleep…”

There’s a cracked mirror fixed to the wall which she’s never noticed before and Corvo is leaning over it, squinting at himself with a one eyed stare. It’d be humorous if he wasn’t so clearly exhausted.

“In future just let her come.” he replies, raking hands through his unruly hair and pulling it up into something resembling a neat tie, keeping it out of his face which he scrubs over with weary hands. “She’s used to having me nearer than this.”

Callista knows the rumors of course, everyone does, even if they’re either too polite or afraid to say it. But their tower is pretty close to Corvo’s room. The idea that they should move any closer makes Callista’s hair stand on end. Not even the noble children she’d acted as governess too had been so close to their parents. But then she supposed that’s why they’d needed a governess.

“Where is she?” he asks, following her out the door and down the creaking stairs.

“I left her sitting with Cecelia…she seems to like her…”

“She likes kind people.” Corvo supplies, sounding more awake with every step, though his boots thud wearily on the wood in a way that is surprising. He’s normally so self contained and quiet that anything louder than a whisper seems out of place.

To their surprise they find Martin leaning over the booth, his tall frame slouched against the back of the seat in a casual manner that goes against his Overseer uniform, hands draped near enough Cecelia’s head for the woman to be blushing at the close proximity to one of her supposed betters. He’s smiling, face kind and eyes expressive as he apparently imparts something funny, and Callista finds herself relieved to hear Emily laugh, however shakily.

“Ah, Corvo,” the priest greets him, causing a jolt of movement from within the booth as Emily no doubt tries to climb up over the table, “And the lovely Callista. We were just talking about where Morley sausage comes from. Aren’t we ladies?”

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Here’s a couple mildly terrible pictures of all the THAC Pops I gave to the boys! (with bonus @admiralskywhale in the background of one :P) Click through for some actual decent pictures of each individual Pop, with a bit of detail on how I made each one as well! :O


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