mold spots

James x Reader / Little bird...

James get’s jealous and you get irritable, love prevails! *queue fireworks and celebratory flock of bald eagles*

“Oi, Padfoot, quit chatting up my bird! You’ve ‘ad enough time with her, lemme at my girl, why don’t you?” Sirius sighs pointedly at James and sidles in front of you protectively, “Shove off, horn-head. She’s still mad at you.”

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Call of the Natemare

Fic Request:
“Can we have one where Natemare uses his voice to lure his victim in? Could end either sfw or nsfw i don’t mind either way :>” 

Originally posted by crystalfier

It started off as a gentle hum. Nothing more then a sound that barely tickled your ears. 
But then it started to rise in volume, the pitch deepening to a low rumble, almost like a growl. 
Other tones mixed with the vibration. Soft, sweet harmonic notes that made you feel light as you turned in search of the noise. 
With nothing in the room, you moved onto the next. The voice was louder here but there was no one in sight. 
You approached the lounge-room. The singing had consumed you now. It fluttered over your body like a spring breeze, warming you, filling your mind with a fuzzy blanket. 
You shook your head. No, something wasn’t right. 
A hand snaked around your waist. Firm but gentle, holding you still as a pair of lips grazed over your neck. 
The song continued, louder now. The owner humming it in your ear and your body relaxed in his hands. His fingers roamed your body, going no further down than your hips but floating up to your shoulders. 
The song became a series of vibrations as the siren started to work his lips on neck. Nipping and molding the sensitive spot just under your jawline. 
A name rode on the notes as you moaned, leaning against his chest as his arms encircled you. 
The creature continued to hum. His dark eyes drinking in your shuddering form as he turn you to face him. His mouth curling in a grin as your eyes fluttered shut, the song dipping you into a sense of unconsciousness. 
But then Natemare’s eyes flicked up to the window across the room. Another man stood in his place. His eyes angry, holding you against his chest protectively. 
Pain stabbed at the inside of his skull. A demand, an angry cry and more frustrating pain.
Natemare’s song faltered and you started to push against the fog that settled over your mind. You mumbled something and pushed slightly against Natemare’s chest.
Grumbling irritably, Natemare pulled away, allowing his other being take control and hold you steady as you rose to awareness. 
“N-Nate?” You asked, your voice slurred slightly. 
“You alright?” He asked, eyes concerned. “Hey, (Y/N), come on, snap out of it.” 
You nodded, rubbing your eyes and shaking your head to clear the smoke. 
“That singing? What was that?” You asked. 
Nate bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it’s about time I told you something important.”

anonymous asked:

Do you ever think that conner prayed to his dad like "i need to get to cali asap, to smooch a son of aphrodite, any help??" And then bam he gets to be at mitchell's side in like less than an hour

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

Connor clenched his jaw, focusing on the task before him. “You’ve done it.”

Travis leaned against the doorway, the screen door between the balcony and the inside of their apartment separating them. He raised an eyebrow as he stared down at his younger brother. “Katie was in the hospital for appendicitis. It was an emergency.”

Connor clicked his lighter once again - it was his favorite, a gold and black metal one he’d pickpocketed in Time Square - but it was running low. He’d need to acquire a new one soon.

Connor’s tongue poked out between his teeth as he concentrated. He shifted the black stones into a position to let them breathe better.

“This is an emergency.”

“Really,” Travis’s voice was colored with disbelief, “this is an emergency?”

Connor finally broke his focus, throwing his hands to the air. “It is, okay! It’s really important that I get there, and there’s no last minute flights out there. This is my only option, okay?”

Travis observed him for a long moment before sighing, sliding the screen door back. He rolled his sleeves up, closing the door behind him, and peered over Connor’s shoulder.

“What are you burning?”

Connor nearly fell with relief at his brother’s help. Prayer was stronger when it was together. “Some prime cut from the butcher’s shop, I know he likes it.”

“Did you get -”

“Some Reese’s Cups, yeah.”

Both boys nodded at each other, satisfied. It was a good offering.

Travis used a metal rod to poke at the charcoal, waving at his face to keep the smoke from it. The small grill they kept on their baloney was hardly used to something other than the best bits at the beginning of meals - it would hardly hold the expensive cut of meat Connor had picked up.

Travis tended to the fire as Connor began to peel the plastic back from the meat, the shiny wrappers from the chocolate. Their father, as the entire cabin knew by now, had a certain weakness for the peanut butter cups.

Travis gestured for him to toss in the offerings once the fire was decent, and Connor followed the instruction without question. He wiped his hands off, some of the chocolate already having melted to his fingertips, and grabbed Travis’s extended hand.

And they prayed.

They - Connor in particular - prayed hard, hand-in-hand, chocolate and meat blackening in front of them, filling the hopeful air with burning fragrance.  

“Really,” a new voice rang out, and Connor’s breath caught. “This is an emergency?”

Their father stood in front of them, their small balcony having hardly enough room to fit them all. His arms were crossed, his eyebrow raised, and was giving him the same judgement filled eyes his older brother had turning on him.

Connor threw his hands up, Travis’s own falling from his grip, but couldn’t deny the bubble of relief building inside of him. He gave Connor an amused smirk as the younger boy declared, “It is an emergency!”

“Son,” Hermes rolled his eyes, turning to walk in the apartment. The screen gave him no resistance as he passed through it. “You called me for this?”

Connor huffed out a breath, him and Travis both following him in, actually pulling back the screen door this time. Travis - the smart one of them - remembered to cover the fire, lest burning down their apartment building.


Hermes was surveying their living space as they came in, inspecting a mold spot with a slightly interested look.

“I think this might be a new species you’ve formed here.” He remarked.

“Nah, that’s just an old PBJ.”


“Where’re George and Martha?” Travis asked, perking up. He had a certain fondness for them.

Hermes turned towards their small kitchen, peering into their fridge, opening the cabins. Nosy.

Hermes waved his question off, “Taking a spa day - apparently the stress is getting to them.” His voice was amused as he explained this, reaching out a hand to poke at something in one of their cabinets. The old bag of bread probably. Connor was hoping to base his science fair project off of it.

Travis looked pleased. George and Martha deserved it, honestly.

Hermes finally looked to be finished looking through their apartment, only a single quick look thrown to their mother’s empty room. She would be in…Miami, right now. Or at least in the air above it.

Hermes turned back to him, “You prayed for my precise, what do you need?” Hermes asked, despite already knowing. He probably needed to them ask clearly - godly magic was tricky like that.

Connor let out a breath. “I need you to get me to California. San Francisco, to be precise. I can call an Uber once I’m there just - I need to get there.”

Hermes raised an eyebrow, “And this has to do with Aphrodite’s boy?”

Connor nodded, a bit desperately. “Mitchell. He won some kind of archery award and he was - he was just sad last time we talked that no one could make it to the ceremony for him because Sebastian’s parents are out of town, and Seb himself is sick and -” Connor cut himself off, staring at his hands. “I want to be there for him.”  

There was a beat of silence as Hermes stared at him.

“This isn’t an emergency.” Hermes told him, flipping out his phone, hundreds of notifications already flooding the screen.

Connor sighed, “It’s not in the most traditional sense,” he allowed his father, “but it’s really important. To me.”

There was a long moment of silence as Hermes was turned towards his phone. He gave Travis a desperate look, who shrugged.

Connor tried again, “Please, dad. I - I wouldn’t be asking if this was something I could do on my own.”

The silence fell over them again. Connor began to deflate.

“It’s done,” Hermes suddenly announced, attaching a black block to his phone - something like a square reader but bigger - in a quick, smooth movement. He waited a few moments before a long ticket began printing itself. He ripped the paper off, holding out to Connor.

Connor stumbled forward to take it, staring down at it. “What - what is it?”

“Your tickets,” Hermes focused back on his smartphone, sliding through a few apps. “Simply write your destination - be descriptive, we don’t need another Paris, Texas incident - on the front, black or blue pen, no pencil it confuses the magic - and light it on fire. Use one half to get there, the other half to get home.” Hermes gave him a stern look, “I expect you to be in school by Wednesday.”

“We have school on Monday and Tuesday.” Connor told him, a bit numb.

“I know,” Hermes shrugged, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “You’re young. You’re not going to miss anything life changing by missing a few days of school.”

Connor stumbled forward again, this time throwing his arms around the taller man’s shoulders. Hermes tensed, unsure for a moment, before relaxing, his hand coming up to pat his back.

Hermes had been trying, since the war. Since Luke.

It was ridiculous how grateful Connor could feel about that.

“Thanks, dad.” He muttered into his father’s suit, probably wrinkling the no doubt expensive fabric. Silk, maybe. Armani, definitely.

Hermes was nodding as Connor pulled away, his own eyes probably red. Hermes cleared his throat, still nodding, and pulled out his phone. Connor looked back, and Travis was grinning proudly.

“I have to be going,” Hermes told them, tapping out something on his phone. He gave them another look, “Don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of, you two. I can only manipulate so many police records before your mother gets suspicious.”

Travis finger-gunned at the older man, “No promises.”

“Thanks, dad.” Connor swallowed against the tightening of his throat.

He held up his hand in a quick gesture of goodbye, and that was it.

And, in moment to the next, he was gone. There was no theatrical display of smoke or light, just a slight shifting of air as mass that was previously occupied began empty, and the air adjusted accordingly so.

Travis clasped his hand over his shoulder, “Gonna surprise him?”

Connor was already nodding - they both had a probably worrying love for surprises. Travis accepted this, grinning, and headed towards the kitchen. Outside, the fire had burnt out the moment Hermes had disappeared.

“Oh, sweet.” Travis grinned, bending down to look closer inside their fridge. “Dad got us groceries.”

“Hot cheetos?” Connor asked hopefully, staring down at the ticket in his hands.

“Like, five bags. Oh, and my favorite pringles. Nice.”

“Nice,” He agreed, holding the ticket to his chest for another moment.

Looks like he had to pack.


Hermes does the exact thing my mother does when she visits my brother and I - meaning, opening every single cabinet, looking in the fridge, opening all the drawers. Idk mom. Idk. also i live with a gross adult boy. he’s disgusting and the moldy bag of bread is a nightmare i have weekly. 

Also I just really want Hermes to be a good dad ok. ok. let me have this. 

Mitchell cried when he saw his boyfriend in the front row, nearly taking the whole thing up with the filled chairs of gifts beside him. it was cute as hell. 

Insane Domestic

Wilford and Silver go shopping.

Came from discussions with @the-east-hunter who also drew Wilford’s outfit

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Motionless Pt. 12/?

Bucky x Reader, original characters

Summary: What work is Albern finishing and what was his brother up to? And why does it involve Bucky and why the hell were you involved?

Word Count: 3,740

Warnings: Language, character injury, graphic stuff, depression, angst

A/N: Guys we have come a long way in this series, thanks for sticking with it. We still have ways to go, but we’ll get there!

Wanna Recap? Part 11

vvv (Albern looks like this, btw) vvv Creepy right?

You couldn’t move, well, you could but if you did hot searing pain shot out from everywhere. Your shoulders were far from numb, you could no longer feel anything besides the pain that was inflicted upon you. Time wasn’t a part of your life anymore, considering you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. How the hell could you in the first place? You were in a semi-dark room, hanging from the ceiling from your wrists, feet bound to the floor in rusty iron cuffs. They transferred you into a different room a few days after Alberns “play time”.

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Originally posted by sebtrashianstanimagines

Prompt:  the reader and Sebastian watching old Sebastian shows or stuff (like his ep of Law & Order?) and she laughing while Seb is embarrassed and fluff at the end

Word Count: 641

Warnings: Kings, Political Animals, and The Apparition are all talked about, don’t let me ruin them for you.

Authors Note: 

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The Enemy of my Enemy \closed

For billions of years, Earth has thrived creating being after being, some of whom have gone extinct, and some who are still just trying to get by.  Humanity in their naivete likes to believe they’re the only sentient beings on the planet, but for those who know how to look for it, there’s a completely separate world full of awesome creatures humanity could only dream about. 

The supernatural world, just like the human world was comprised of both good creatures and bad creatures; creatures who preyed upon humanity in the worst of ways, and creatures who were happy to live among them, blending into their world. For those creatures who decide to make humanity their midnight snack, there were Hunters. and the Hunters have an organization who specializes in knowing about, studying and eradicating anything that poses a threat, though somewhere along the way, that organization became xenophobic turning away the possibility that anything non-human deserved the right to live. 

Hunter’s pretty much lived by one code of law, if it wasn’t human, it would be exterminated. The backbone of the Hunting world was an organization called the Men of Letters, these men’s and women’s sole purpose in life was to study the supernatural world and come up with easier and more effective ways of killing the creatures Hunters went after. 

Dean had spent centuries avoiding the Men of Letters, keeping to himself and blending in with humanity the best he could until one day he didn’t and he was caught. Demons weren’t rare, but typically the smart ones were harder to catch, and Dean prided himself on being one of the smart ones. Always one step ahead of the Hunters, always on his toes, always searching the area for hidden Devil Traps and disabling any warding he came across. The Men of Letters though, were getting sneakier, and one night, in April 2014 Dean was caught. 

His time with the group was spent largely between taunting them through the door to his cell and them interrogating him for information on Hell. The interrogations didn’t work all that well though since Dean hadn’t actually BEEN to Hell in nearly 200 years. He hated that place. 

It was just another Thursday night where Dean was contemplating his existence and counting the mold spots on the ceiling when he heard clanking, got a face full of holy water and when all was said and done, Dean was left staring at a guy who looked more like a tax accountant than something supernatural. With a second look, Dean realized the dude was an angel. 

“Shit,” Dean breathed looking at the guy, eyes wide, “they actually managed to capture an angel.”


The Awakening, One

You have the ability to guide people back from the dead with the smallest touch. Yet what happens when you lay your hand upon a stranger that never possessed a beating heart to begin with? 

=> Jungkook x Reader AU

Warning: Mild sexual content, language, asshole Jungkook.

A/N: You really need to read the Prologue or this won’t make any sense. I’m proud of myself for finally getting this up and I’ve actually made a story line so updates will happen more often now.

=> Prologue


Your daughter?” The lack of emotion dripped from chapped lips, dry from the frosty air lingering in the empty town. The surprise was evident in his eyes, the mere thought of his only evil in the world having a bloodline made Jungkook’s still heart skip a beat. Never in his decades of living had he heard even the smallest of whispers about a daughter. The thought didn’t settle well within him.

Yes, a daughter. She was taken from me a long time ago, and now I need her back.” Wisps of silver strands blew in the wind, steel gray eyes looking at the younger boy with a sense of amusement.

Jungkook couldn’t quite place the emotions tumbling from the lips of the man who was nothing but the epitome of evil, darkness stitched into the words he breathed out into the thick air that held the stench of death.

Why can’t you get her yourself? Send one of your followers to do your errands, I want no part in it.”

A hearty chuckle ricocheted off the brick buildings of the small town, wrapping around Jungkook in a tight hold until he was molded to the spot, feet glued to the snowy asphalt and unmoving at the sinister sound that coated his ears in a feeling of dread.

You think I haven’t tried foolish boy? She’s cloaked from me, and I’m not exactly… on good terms among the covens. You will find her and bring her to me, do you understand?”

The man’s words sliced through bones, invisible chains toughening their hold on his wrists as Jungkook was once again dug deeper into a world he was never supposed to be a part of in the first place.

Yes sir.”

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Cosplay hack #2 paper mache

paper mache is my favorite medium of construction because its easy cheap and versatile


flour:water mix (1:1.5 and 1:1)

crapton of newspaper/magazine strips

cardboard/ plastic(paper towel/toilet paper tubes , food packaging drink bottles)

heavy duty tape

heavy duty scissors 



also this will pretty much ruin any fabric you get it on


once you have the skeleton made, weather card board, plastic, or balloon, prepare an approximate 1:1.5 flour to water solution, this isn’t rocket science, you just want the thickness of pancake batter.

next you will take thinly ripped strips of news paper (1inch wide max) of varying size and dip it into the solution. The flour will stick to it, and you use your fingers to remove excess flour chunks and slime, leaving a thin layer of the white paste on the newspaper. 

now apply pieces to the skeleton in a crosshatched, overlapping pattern,  *at this point you can make adjustments to the skeleton using wads of solution soaked newspaper to make areas raised or more defined features, remember to layer smooth flat newspaper over these additions*    making sure to massage the paper snugly to the shape of the skeleton(this will prevent air pockets and make a smoother finish)

apply paper until it is between 3-5 layers of paper across the whole skeleton(or take a few days and do top half and bottom half separately) at this point you must WAIT UNTIL IT IS COMPLETELY DRY this can take up to 2 or 3 days depending on humidity, but this is imperative, because you could get soft spots or molding in your prop.

once dry you will now prepare a second solution of 1:1 flour water. This slightly thicker solution helps create a stronger thicker shell and leaves more room for sandpaper smoothing

apply 3 or four more layers of newspaper strips to  the skeleton as before, and then take some of remaining flour paste and massage into paper mache, leaving a mm to 1/8 in layer across the surface

let dry- give at least 2 days!

sand down to a smooth texture, and refine to the shape you desire and paint!

hope this helps :)

Date Night

A/N: I’m still alive! Bits of this may feel rushed, that’s because I’ve been tweaking this thing for weeks now before finally deciding, screw it, I’m going to post it anyway. There should be some other fics coming along soon, too. Lots of half-finished ones lying around here…

AO3 linky.

You may remember Vincent from chapter 5. This thing is part of the demonology student Dipper arc which started here.

Date Night

The television played some mindless comedy show. In the background her aquarium made a soothing bubbling sound.

Elisabeth was curled up on the couch, snug under a fleece blanket. Her eyes were glued to the screen of her tablet computer, a reading program opened up. Romantic science fiction was an underrated genre, really.

A quiet evening at home.


“H̢̙̫̻̮E͈̱̮̰̳͡Y͢ ̖͙̗͚͙A̘̦̞ͅD̟̮̻͡A͇̠̠̱̫̬̱͞M̶͓̰̪̪S͙̦̹̕.”

The empty air between her and the television was suddenly full of demon and it was only years of experience that stopped her from throwing her tablet at its head and drawing her spray can with holy water.

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temperature gauge

my long awaited gym au

jk nobody cares

She was…ice.

Liquid nitrogen, eyes like cracked crystal and mouth as sharp and swift as a butcher knife.

Frozen, her harsh words and cutting laughter like an effervescent reminder that you wouldn’t stand a chance.

Not to mention the biggest case of RBF he’d ever come across.

(Resting Bitch Face).

She’d walk, more like strut, across the weight room and know that everyone was staring at her, for all the wrong reasons, and she’d toss her watered hair to the side like she didn’t care.

And she probably didn’t.

She’d get whistles, taunts, asks, admirers, and still she’d just tilt her head to the side and smile because she knew she had everybody in the palm of her hand.

Ice, ice cold.

She was hot.

Sweat would gleam at every angle, like a well oiled diamond. Her hair would boil like the water it resembled and just glimmer in the positioned lighting by the treadmills.

Every day she’d snag everyone’s eyeballs, hook them onto a leash and drag them behind her as she ran laps around the track, her assets bouncing and all the eyes that followed her would sweat with nervousness.

Yes, she was a spectrum of temperatures, ranging from the pits of mount doom to the top of a wintered mountain.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Gray sighed, and decided to remind his long-time friend one more time.

“No you’re not.”

He had endured the endless hours of Lyon’s admiration for her. Spent days discussing just how shiny her hair was and just how perky her ass looked on particular Saturday mornings like today.

Frankly, he was getting sick of her.

“Yes, I am.” Lyon said, much more sure than before. Gray didn’t believe him for a second. This had happened yesterday, and the day before, and the months before, even down to the day when she first began to come to the dinky YMCA meant for seniors and fatties.

“Then go.” Gray motioned, noticing that she had just finished her cool down and strolled over to the water fountain to refill her bottle.

“O-ok! I’m going, I’m going!” Lyon yelled, half in excitement and half in annoyance.

He made the slow, and perilous journey to the drinking fountain, encountering terrors like a mysterious puddle of unidentifiable body fluid pooled by the yoga mats, and the ever growing spot of mold in the ceiling above the bench press.

Finally, he reached the prize, the ice cold blazing hot diamond, filing her water bottle up with a sigh of contempt and a bored expression.


Lyon cringed at the intensity of the voice crack, wishing to melt into water and join the rest of it into the girl’s water bottle, his only chance of ever touching her lips.

Which, were now, pursed and shiny with irritation.


“W-well, I had an important…question…that I’d like to take up with you.” He stammered, attempting to straighten his posture but failing.

The girl adjusted her position, looking down on Lyon and knowing every trick in the book to emasculate him.

It was now that Gray noticed how tall she was, long, slender legs adding to every inch of feministic beauty that Lyon so wished to have in his arms.

“Alright.” She said crisply, blinking innocently yet Gray could see the crouched cat behind them, ready to chew Lyon up and spit him back into the water fountain.

Oh well. He was going to have to learn somehow.

“Would you uh…would you…uh…mind…” He trailed off…he’s losing it…he’s losing it…

“Telling me you name?”

Saved it.


She sighed, like she was gravelly disappointed that this was going to go on.


Juvia? How interesting.

Lyon sighed in relief, afraid she’d rip his head off just for standing too close to her.

“I’m Lyon. It’s nice to meet boobs. I mean you!”

Ah…shit. He blew it. He blew it big time.

Her face darkened like an approaching storm.

“Nice to meet your boobs too.” She sneered, looking at Lyon’s chest and Gray was honestly expecting a pair of knockers to spontaneously appear.

“Uh uh uh I’m so sorry! I meant you…I just…”

“Slipped?” Juvia asked, her perfectly trim eyebrows raised in an amused fashion. She was probably enjoying watching him squirm.

Gray would be lying if he said he wasn’t.

“I mean…I mean yes.” Lyon gasped for air like a goldfish on the counter.


She made a humming sound before turning away abruptly.

“Wha…so…I’m sorry…”  Lyon apologized, but she didn’t bother to turn around, only continued on her way to the coffee table.

Lyon’s horrified face finally bursted Gray’s bubble of tranquility and he started laughing like a maniac.

“Oh…god…that was…that was a disaster…oh god…why didn’t I…film it….” Gray gasped, resting his hands on his knees to keep himself from tipping over.

Lyon got even paler and looked like he was about to pass out.

“Do…do you think I still have a chance…?”

Gray laughed even harder.

“Sure…sure Lyon…how long do women hold grudges, a day or two?” Gray joked, but Lyon just looked crushed.

“W-well what should I do? Apologize?” Lyon squeaked, the same high pitched voice he got whenever he was agitated.

“Nope. Nope. Bad idea.” Gray shook his head vigorously.

“Ugh…I’m such an idiot…” Lyon mumbled into the palm of his hand.

“Got that right. I’ll go apologize for you.” Gray said nonchalantly, although he did have a few alterior motives…

What was it about this girl that made her totally unreadable? Cold, hot, warm? He had to try it for himself.

She stirred her over sugared coffee, watching the cream swirl with the liquid calmly.

“Uh…excuse me? Sorry, I’m Gray. Lyon’s…er…friend.” He said, a bit guiltily.

She turned and regarded him smoothly. He could sense the judgment immediately, but took it like a man because he was afraid that if he said anything he’d screw up royally like Lyon.

Finally, her eyes stopped scanning and she leaned her hip against the coffee counter, giving Gray the subtle implication that she would listen to what he had to say.

Before speaking, he briefly wondered what her judgment of him was. The less creepy friend who was polite, but still a little weird.

He supposed he’d never know.

“I’d like to apologize on his behalf. He’s been kind of…enamored with you, and he was beyond nervous, so…” please don’t eat him for breakfast.

She did the complete unexpected.

Her icy manner changed, and she offered him a small, warm smile.

“I could tell.”

He smiled back a little bit, the rare oddity was a bit infectious.

“So…please don’t take it out on him. He’s mentally damaged.” Gray lied, but he had recalled Lyon’s mom mentioning a couple glasses of wine while pregnant with Lyon…

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, her lips still curved into that mysterious smile. She then let her eyes scan him again, maybe for a second judgment…?

Or was she…checking him out?

He felt a sudden sense of pride, the famous YMCA ice queen had shown faint interest in him. Take that Lyon!

“I guess I’ll see you and white Bill Cosby around.” She bit her lip a little bit and winked.

Gray blinked, stunned.

He let the small amount of information sink in. It took a while, considering the information was so…shocking.

Finally, he came to a simple concensus.

He was coming to the gym ore often.

figured I should finish this bunny cake before I started any other requestss

The Magic of Science!

Wallace wasn’t impressive to look at, he lacked a wardrobe to look clean cut… or even especially clean. All his clothes had spots of mold in them thanks to the rotting of his apartment. But these guys were carnies, surely they won’t care about what he looked like?

Seems that they didn’t, as he was (rather eagerly) passed along to their magician, a fellow by the name of Roderich. He hoped he’d get along with the guy, he was just desperate for cash, a place to sleep that wasn’t full of black mold, and a steady supply of meals. He ran a hand through his messy chestnut locks before knocking on the door of the trailer, clearing his throat.



Monster Falls Fic: Chapter 2

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2


       Dipper rushed through the screen door, frantic. He blanched at the sight of Grunkle Stan downing a bottle of the cursed water, and nearly screamed when he saw that Wendy’s friends had showed up and, they too, were all drinking the stuff. Without thinking, he slapped the bottles out of their hands. Mabel and Soos had quietly entered the main room of the Shack, looking bewildered as ever.
       "Kid, why’d ‘ya just slap an empty bottle out of my hand?“ Stan questioned. "This water’s great! The whole town was in here today, and everyone bought some! They ran me dry! Even those pesky cops and Mabel’s friends and the girl they hate so much! Even Gideon came in here to claim vengeance, but I splashed some on him and he ran away whining about his hair! Amazing! This stuff is amazing! Mabel, first thing tomorrow I want you to get more!”
       "STOP DRINKING THE WATER!!“ Dipper interrupted. His voice cracked a little, but he didn’t care. The issue at hand was a bit more pressing than puberty. Stan’s words then hit him; the whole town was here, even Gideon and Pacifica and Candy and Grenda. And everyone had bought the beverage. This was bad.
       Very bad.
       "Dipper? Hey! What’s up?” Wendy asked, setting down her bottle.
       "The… water…“ Dipper rasped, "it’s… cursed!”
       Robbie spit out a mouthful of “Stan Water” onto Thompson, who shrieked something about his shirt being cotton and that it would shrink. Tambry just started typing on her phone at a rapid pace. Meanwhile, Nate and Lee were laughing at Thompson. Wendy shushed them, her face becoming serious.
       "Dipper, say that again,“ she commanded.
       "The 'Stan Water’ is cursed!” he exclaimed.
       "Woah, kid, what do ya mean 'cursed’?“ Stan asked.
       The other teenagers had gone quiet.
       "Dipper, dude, what’s going on?” Soos’ voice echoed in the silence.
       "The stream that Mabel got the water from is in this journal of supernatural entities and stuff,“ he explained, pulling the battered book out of his vest pocket. "It says that the water will curse anyone who touches or drinks it into a monster based on their personality, and the cure is unknown.”
       "Dip, did you use the black light?“ Mabel proposed.
       A wave of relief overcame Dipper. "Oh, no. Wait, maybe this panicking was for nothing.”
       He took out the black light from his pocket to look for invisible ink on the page. He swept the light all over the paper, but nothing new was revealed. His hopes faded.
       "There’s nothing there,“ Dipper declared.
       "Okay, if you’re right, then why aren’t we monsters right now?” Robbie asked.
       "It says that the effects don’t appear until at least six hours after contact,“ Dipper said.
       "Hey, monsters? That’s pretty cool, though. LEE, LET’S GO TELL EVERYBODY!” Nate stated, his voice rising.
       His friend cheered, and the two ran out of the Shack, with Thompson in tow, as he did not want to be left out.
       "Everyone pretty much knows though, because I tweeted it,“ Tambry said.
       "Let’s just go,” Robbie suggested. “See ya’ later Wendy.”
       The couple left the building, too, leaving just the staff, the owner, and his great niece and nephew.
       "Finally,“ Grunkle Stan sighed, "I thought they’d never leave!”
       Wendy frowned.
       "Wait, so we’re all gonna be monsters by tomorrow?“ Mabel asked, starting to worry. "Even my friends?”
       Dipper nodded sullenly.
       "How is this possible? Magic streams don’t just pop up in forests,“ Stan grumbled.
       "Well, it’s not like the forest behind this place is normal, Mr. Pines,” Soos pointed out.
       "Whatever, this is dumb. Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m taking a nap,“ Stan declared, and then went into the living area of the Mystery Shack, slamming the door behind him.
       "What kind of monsters will we be? Like a Pterodactyl?” Soos wondered aloud, pronouncing the 'p’ in 'pterodactyl,’ much to Dipper’s dismay.
       "Or will we grow big claws and fangs and nasty green lizard scales?“ Wendy added on, making claw motions with her hands.
       "What if we were all vampires?” Mabel suggested, a dreamy tone in her voice.
       "No, I think we’re all different creatures, like, based on our personalities. Like someone might be a vampire, but someone could also be a werewolf or a gnome or…“
       "This doesn’t sound that bad, dude,” Soos pointed out.
       "Are you CRAZY?!“ Dipper yelled, followed by a "Keep it down!” from Stan, “we’re all gonna turn into God knows what, and possibly, like, kill each other, and you think that that’s cool?!”
       Mabel nodded in agreement. “This could be a good thing or a bad thing.”
       "I think, for now, we should keep thinking of it as a good thing, because it’s lunch time, and I’d rather eat in peace!“ Wendy suggested, laughing a little.
       "Haha, yeah, good plan,” Dipper said, and then cursed himself. Aren’t I over her?
       With that, they parted ways to eat their meals, and began to prepare for the next wave of tourists. Dipper wouldn’t let Mabel go out to get more water, because the afternoon wave was always tourists, and there was no way he would bring the monster epidemic to people from other towns.


       The rest of the day was lazy. Surprisingly, not too many tourists came through, so not much work could be done. Everyone was tired by the time the Shack closed, and the air had finally cooled down. After Wendy and Soos said their goodbyes and went home, and the Pines trio had eaten a dinner of slightly overcooked spaghetti and canned tomato sauce (courtesy of Stan’s cooking), they sat around the old television in the living room.
       Mabel was sprawled out on the tan shag carpet, petting her pet pig, Waddles. Dipper was leaning against the dinosaur skull replica/ end table, doing some Summer Reading. Mabel hadn’t started that yet, and really was not planning to until school was at least a week away. Grunkle Stan, as usual, was in his white undershirt and blue striped boxers, sitting on his ugly yellow armchair that was worn down from years of use. He kept his fez on, for whatever reason, and was staring intently at the infomercial on the T.V. through his glasses.
       As the crickets and cicadas droned on outside, Mabel couldn’t help but wonder about the effects of that stream water. She wasn’t sure whether she believed anything would happen or not, but the journal had not proved the twins wrong yet. The thing that she worried about most, however, was what she might turn into.
       What if I get turned into an ugly troll or something and lose my cuteness again, like when Bill made me ugly? But Dipper said the monster matched your personality. What would match my personality? A fairy or something?
       The thoughts and “what ifs” kept haunting Mabel for the rest of the evening, even after Stan sent them to bed. Mabel lay awake, aware of Waddles curled up at her feet. She knew her brother was awake too. His breathing wasn’t sleepy yet. When you share a room with someone for twelve years, things like that catch on.
       Even so, as she stared at the ceiling and discovered  a new mold spot (I’ll name you Jerome), Mabel decided that she would just have to wait and see what the morning brought her.
       With that thought, the girl slowly drifted off to sleep.

anonymous asked:

My favorite dildo is this big blue thing with suction cup and balls, the material was so pretty at first - clear, sky blue. But the color has started to fade in areas and last month I noticed these couple black spots but I didn't really think much of it. I keep my toys in a black duffel bag/ Well now there's a few more black spots. Whats going on, is it because of the bag? Can I keep using it? I really like how soft it is and its nice and thick.


Without knowing which exact one you have, I don’t know what the material is. “Clear, sky blue” combined with the fact that the color is fading and you have black spots (which are mildew or mold spots) indicates it’s either jelly, PVC or TPR. The former two have the potential for being toxic and containing phthalates (which can fuck up your reproductive hormones and cause cancer, among other things). All of them, even if they’re not toxic, are porous and chemically unstable. Porous sex toys are more problematic than most people realize; they make a nice home for bacteria, mold, mildew and even the chemicals you use to clean them. You’re putting these stowaways inside your body every time you use it and it’s potentially making you sick. If not now, it certainly will soon.

Companies can absolutely make sex toys out of unsafe materials and never warn you, because the industry is unregulated. Shady sex toy retailers can sell toys without listing the material, leaving you further in the dark. There are plenty of manufacturers you can trust, and plenty of retailers you can trust. For a list of manufacturers to trust, as well as a break down of which sex toy materials are safe and which are unsafe, visit my Toxic Toys Page. If you want a list of the places I recommend for shopping, go here.

I don’t want you to feel scared about all sex toys, but I do need to impress upon you the importance of ceasing use of your current dildo immediately. There are many safe, and affordable, pure silicone dildos out there. The place I recommend most are SheVibe and buying direct from Tantus - both places constantly have sales (and for Tantus I have a coupon code that’ll take off 15%, code is LILLY) so keep an eye out here and on Twitter to catch the sales. If the suction cup is what you like, I’ve got a list of silicone suction cup dildos. If you want further recommendations for a replacement, just let me know!

Creepypasta #735: Scuppernong Inn Review- Zero Stars

Length: Super long

go_hillmen Auburn, California 1 review

The Scuppernong Inn – 1 Lilin Way, New Orleans, LA 70129

out of **** stars



OK. Let me say right off the bat that at the time of writing this I have already filed a report with the New Orleans police department, and I’m waiting to hear back from them.

I would also like to say that Luxe Travel Reviews does NOT have the option to let you leave zero stars, which is a big problem IMO and I’ve sent them an e-mail saying just that. Crap-holes like Scuppernong Inn don’t deserve a star. If anything, they deserve negative stars. But I had to write this review to WARN people away from this place, and I have to pick a star number to do it, so there ya go. One star = one billion minus stars. Keep that in mind.

Last week, husband and I came to New Orleans for the first time. Husband is a big jazz fan, and je suis (that means “I love”) everything Francais (that means “French”), so it was a vacation-no-brainer. We had to go.

When we started planning the trip we thought we’d stay in the French Quarter, at one of the little boutique hotels or something. But husband got laid off in January and we had to tighten the budget – we already had the plane tickets, just not the hotel – so we looked at cheaper options online.

And, (thanks very little, Luxe) we stumbled on Scuppernong Inn.

$58 a night for two people? HELL-O. In retrospect it was obviously too good to be true, but we took the bait. Plus, in addition to being a jazz fan, husband is a massive wine freak. He sometimes jokes that he loves wine more than he loves me (very funny). And one of the big things on Scuppernong’s website is about how they actually have their own vineyard, and free tastings every night. Done and done. We booked 5 nights.

Problems started the minute we stepped off the plane. Scuppernong doesn’t offer shuttle service from the airport, but their website said cabs have a $33 fixed airport rate. Tell that to the nasty cab drivers of New Orleans! We were at the cab stand for close to an hour, and every driver we talked to wanted to charge us more for going “all the way out there.” Some of them were asking an extra fifty bucks! Finally we found one who was reasonable. But his cab was disgusting, the seats were damp and the A/C was broken and everything smelled like cigarettes and Laffy Taffy. So he was probably desperate.

To be fair, Scuppernong really is out in the boonies. We drove past all the nice parts of the city and I kept thinking he’d get off the freeway, but we kept going until it seemed like the only buildings left were burned out or abandoned. And then there weren’t any buildings at all, just fields and swamps! I always thought swamps would be pretty, with big shady trees and that moss that hangs down, but these swamps were just flat and gross. We even saw a dead crocodile on the side of the road (ick).

FINALLY we got to Scuppernong. It’s a big brick hulk in the middle of the swamp, at the end of a crappy road. There is literally nothing else around it. Zero bars on my cell phone. They don’t even have a parking lot. But by this point husband and I were exhausted and starving and ready for some air conditioned comfort.

Keep reading

This is exactly why you should never eat mushrooms found in the wild.

And here are answers to yesterday’s trivia:

Q: Zuggtmoy, the Demon Queen of Fungi is also known as the Lady of ___________ and ___________?

A: Rot; Decay

Q: Common symbols for Zuggtmoy include what? (name one)

A: Four-Tiered Mushroom; Mold-Spotted Objects; Four Intersecting Rings of Mushrooms or Toadstools; Mushrooms/Fungi Growing Out of a Jawless Skull

Q: What type of attack does Zuggtmoy share with myconids?

A: Spore

anonymous asked:

idk if you've answered this before but right after they bust the terrorist in TSOT and we cut to Mycroft begging to sherlock, we see a glimpse of sherlock's room. well i'm pretty sure I spotted a mold in a frame hung on his wall that looked almost identical to the one that that sherlock supposedly used on moriarty in Anderson's theory. if that's true, what do you think that means? thanks

  1. OH FUCK OFF THE MOLD FROM THE MASK IS ON HIS WALL Okay I need to outsource this. First – what’s the picture above it, of that insect? Is that a scarab beetle?  Fuck. Maybe he’s hiding the Sherlock dummy from Goth Girl’s explanation in his closet.