- A piece of card with their name written on it- fold it a bit to make it nice and strong to stick needles through without hurting your hands. This is your taglock for them
- 9 Sewing needles
- 9 Tacks
- 9 pieces of paper with their name and their bad deeds written on it. Things like their name followed by “Abusive behaviour”, “Know it all”, “Show off”, “Gossiper”, “Disrespect”. etc.
- Fire proof bowl
- Water in case you accidentally set your altar on fire (believe me if you’re not careful these things happen)
- Chilli powder
- Your spit
- Cigarette ashes
- Black candle
- 2 plastic bags
The cursing bit:
- Cast a circle and invite your elements and deities if you work with any.
- Grab the taglock and think about how hurt and angry this person makes you feel. Direct the angry energy you are feeling into each of the 9 pins and tacks and stab the paper. Keep the tacks and needles stuck in the taglock.
- Put the taglock into your jar
- Summon all your anger and spit three times on the taglock
- Take the 9 pieces of paper with their name and bullshit behaviours on them and burn them inside your fire proof bowl. Keep the water handy in case the burning gets out of hand. As each paper burns say “I curse you [Insert name]. Your abuse will return back to you 9 fold.”
- Dump the paper ashes into the jar.
- On top of the ashes dump the chilli powder, pepper and vinegar and cigarette ashes. Say I curse you [Insert name] may these substances sting and burn as you have stung and burned me.
- put the lid on and shake the jar up. Focus on your target. Imagine a ball of black energy is forming inside you. Inside that black ball of energy, put all your painful memories of that person, their negative words, their bad attitude, their abuse, all of your hate and tears and pain, your internal screaming, everything about them that makes you angry. Channel that hateful energy out through your hand chakras and into the jar. Take plenty of time to do this and don’t stop focusing on it until you feel there is nothing left you can put in. The jar’s energy should feel really awful.
- Double bag the jar in the plastic bags and tie them shut. Take the bag outside in your back yard. If you have any left over residual hateful energy, now is the time to get rid of it. Summon any left over anger, scream and yell at the jar if you need to.Swear at it, anything. Then as forcefully as possible throw that jar and smash it. The energy will be released from the jar and find it’s target.
- Close the circle and smudge the hell out of yourself and anywhere in your house that the jar was.
-Leave the bag out overnight and collect the debris the next day inside the sealed plastic bags with no mess to clean up. That persons behaviour deserves a rubbish tip, so in this case I wouldn’t feel bad for throwing it in a bin and having it sent to land fill. Just get that shit out of your life and send it to a disgusting place of no return.
I recently bought the Layton fun pack that was released back in the days for Curious Village. It was pretty nice with it’s pretty quality stickers and the lovely poster
The rubber used for the keychain was so oily that I’ve had to wash him off 3 times before he started to feel okay. I’m still scared of placing him near any items made of paper just in cause orz
EVERYONE’S FAVORITE PLASTIC SURGEON, DR. CHANG, IS AT IT AGAIN!!!
(This one is dedicated to @supercorpreceipts, only because I love your tags so much)
So my friend (her name’s Em, she doesn’t do social media, but she asked me to say hi to you all) waited all day till her dad got home from work.
The first thing she did after her dad stepped inside the house was showing him the cursed image above.
Sure enough, our beloved Dr. Chang flipped. Again.
According to Em, her 57-year-old dad dead ass groaned right then and there. The image was so cursed, a grown man and father of three GROANED. gRoaNEd!
Em asked his opinion on the series of unfortunate changes, and this happened:
（"It really doesn’t bother him when he looks at himself in the mirror? Is he really okay with that?“)
It is safe to say that Dr. Gerald Chang is now my absolute fav man!
Similar timeline as the last but not interconnected
Her forehead comes into contact with the steering wheel and she curls both shaking fingers around the hard plastic cursing. When she finally lifts her head and peeks in the overhead mirror she is greeted by under eye bags and a deeply inset frown. The dashboard clock blinked 2:00 AM, and finally turning on the engine, Gwen backed out of the suburban driveway.
“Honestly, what the hell.”
Her finger slammed the radio on as she drove, talking to herself under her breath about the experiences she faced today. For the fifth night in a row the parents of her main child had come home extremely late, she was starting to believe she was raising Max on her own. Before the pattern his parents maintained dawned on Gwen, she wondered how an eleven year old boy could hold so much hatred.
It was evident now, they did not care for their child and avoided home as much as they possibly could. The thought alone pulled the tired and sympathetic frown to resurface on her temporarily neutral face.
Occasionally driving home late sparked her anxiety, the never ending road and thick forest that loomed on both sides of her vision. Her headlights only fueled the possible threat with their limited area. Those fears thankfully stayed away though since she was overheating with anger.
“I can’t believe them. Five in the afternoon-my ass. I need to establish a contract, I’m so tired of this bullshit.”
Gwen screamed out of frustration so loud that she coughed violently after, everything felt constricting. She desperately wanted to cleanse herself from the night, rip her flannel off, and have a healthy daily sob in the shower. She wondered why she allowed her ex boyfriend to move them out to middle-of-no-where Oregon.
So deeply wrapped up in her head Gwen failed to realize how heavily her foot was pressed on the gas, or see the flash of color that was the parked cop car, a silent predator in the pitch black night.
Only when she heard the wailing of sirens behind her did Gwen glance down at the speedometer to see the needle shaking between 90 and 95. Her eyes widened as she furled her brows pressing on the break almost guiltily and slowing to a stop. Pulling over on the side of the road she parked and the cop car followed suit.
“Shit. Not tonight.”
The words left her mouth dripping with rage and her fist slammed on the dash.
The anger was short lived though and replaced by worry. Panic flooded her system slowly and Gwen stared down at her choice of clothing trying to decode if she looked incriminating or not. She really didn’t want to face stereotypical prejudice tonight or take a breathalyzer test in which some older probably quota pressed cop didn’t believe her. The cops here she had met were not as bad as the ones in Mississippi, but they would still give her a ticket. In times like this it would have been so nice to be genetically blessed with conventionally attractive features. Like huge boobies.
Waiting in the car shaking softly due to nerves, Gwen’s nails found themselves being gnawed to pieces under her teeth. Eyes glued to the rear view mirror she watched a tall office step out of the vehicle, he was the in between of thin and muscular, and oozed youth in his very steps.
The silhouette of his campaign hat added another few inches to his shadow and Gwen felt the seconds leading up to his final convergence would take forever. Finally, he made it to her door.
He didn’t tap on her window, didn’t make a face and shine his flashlight in her eyes, he simply made the motion to roll down the glass and waited. He remained standing at full height, almost standing off at a respectable distance. Fumbling Gwen rolled down her window and swallowed while staring up to the officer.
Oh no, he was hot.
“Good evening! So sorry to bother you. I’m sure you already know why I pulled you over, I won’t bother with that. Could I have your license and registration, please?”
He then smiled to reveal a perfect set of gleaming white teeth, that matched his impeccable facial structure and jaw line. Her eyes flickered to his teal eyes and auburn brows, unable to peek at his broad chest. Gwen found herself for a moment caring about her appearance, although the anxiety had not subsided. Reaching across to her glove compartment she pulled out the needed paperwork and handed it to the officer.
His large hand encompassed around the papers and she found herself looking down at his fingers. They were long and thin, a compliment to his fairy like appearance, her mind wandered down a dark path. Focusing herself to resume reality, Gwen leaned back in her seat assuming he would return to his car to run her.
“You must be really tired.”
The soft quality of his voice pulled the instinctual answer from her lips.
“Oh no, I’m fine.”
The sentence was followed by surprise, Gwen’s brows came together as she glanced back up to the officer. He seemed to be stalling in a way, one leg extended out and turning her papers over and over in his hands. She slowly relaxed as her eyes remained glued on the man standing next to her vehicle, she knew she shouldn’t but she was tired. She wished he would leave with his handsome face and go back home to his sweet blonde wife and let her drive home in pity.
With the thought her eyes ran over both his knuckles seeing the absence of a golden band, then his badge with his name engraved on it.
Girlfriend, then. Not wife.
Silence had been continuing between them for a moment or two and she brushed down fuzzy curls.
“You must be tired too, having to be out here at this time of night. It’s probably super boring…”
At her response his smile returned and he moved slightly closer to her. Gwen’s cheeks heated just at his presence and she nodded curtly. She probably smelled like french fries and sweat from babysitting and internally sighed.
“It is sometimes, but that’s the price for keeping the world safe. Sometimes I meet really nice folks on this shift though, all walks of life are out. Mostly drunk college students and it’s better for everyone that they sleep it off in the back of a cop car than on the road.”
She found herself laughing at this, maybe out of sleepy delirium or the natural instinct to laugh out of necessity. The officer reveled in her laughter, and looked down to the ground to clear his throat.
“Well, I’ll let you be on your way. I am sure you are needing to get home.”
David folded the papers back the way she had them and handed them over the threshold of her open window. Something in her resembling disappointment stung for a moment, like she didn’t want to leave.
“You’re not going to issue me a ticket?”
He shook his head no but made no movement to leave the from the side of her driver’s door.
“No not tonight, everyone is tired sometimes.”
She didn’t feel tired, she felt she wanted to know more about this ball of sunshine officer. The feeling was bitter sweet, and she gave a tight smile. He returned the gesture, not moving from his place in the road. David felt if he did he would have to acknowledge the strange feeling in his stomach.
Automatically he chirped back.
Now they were both stalling, neither of them having made a movement to part. Gwen was confused, he cleared his throat to break the silence and stood straighter.
“Well, you have a wonderful night, Miss. I thank you for sparing me from death from boredom.”
Soundlessly and carefully as if stepping out a bubble of existence only they shared, David took one step back from her car. Impulsively her hand shot out catching his arm for one moment, he looked back at her in surprise.
She was shoving paper into his palm, flushed pink, and trying to swallow down the excitement. David watched stunned as the pretty women who still managed to look elegant as her tousled hair got in her eyes shoved her key in the ignition.
“Call me next time you get bored on your shift, alright.”
There is so much to be thankful for, Minho would say, looking at her as if he’d found his answer.
Summary: Having stumbled across an art exhibition, she came to admire pieces of art work by Minho. Although she was not aware of this as he had been using a pen name. On a late night during one of her visits, Minho happens to be there too.
Since that kiss, there was never a proper or
straightforward question from either of them. Not even after Minho had brought
her to his studio. It wasn’t a lie to say that Minho had been blatantly honest
about his feelings for her, yet he never once had asked her to be with him. Not
until one night where the both of them were caught up in a phone call, catching
up on how her week was, and vice versa. Frustratingly enough, it wasn’t every day
that she could see him at her heart’s content and the feeling was mutual.
“When does your semester start?”
“My summer break just started, Minho.” She laughed
softly, putting the call on loud speaker and settled the phone on her chest. It
had been over an hour and her ears were starting to burn from the lengthy call.
“I know— just bracing myself for it. I won’t get to see you much.” He sighed.
She resisted the urge to tut back because even now, his schedule had been the
main reason that kept them from spending time together.
HC: Alcor has a mark, one he reserves for those who don’t deserve the sweet release of death but cannot go unpunished. It’s called the nightmare brand and it is a star that is centered over someones eye that was burned into the flesh with his demonic blue flame. (Alcor can see through stars, you will always be watched) as the name implies it comes with a lifetime of nightmares and no amount of plastic surgery or magical curse breaking can get rid of it. It becomes his warning to the foolish. Cults tried to turn it into a fad but it was quickly stopped when Alcor gave them the dreams that came with the brand. Here’s the real nightmare, the mark prevents you from dying from anything except old age but you get to keep all the pain that come with any attempts. Remember, your not good enough for death just yet, Alcor wants you do die slowly and painfully and that’s just what you’ll do.
@awesomecat42 on Fan…demon: I’m not really that into bands or anything, but if you replaced BABBA with, say, the Mythbusters or something, this is exactly how I would react! Mythbusters… OMG SWEET GRUNKLE OF ALCOR YES YES YES!!! What if the TAU had it’s own version of the Mythbusters and after the Transendence they also started busting myths about real supernatural things and magic and stuff cuz that stuff was real now and what if one time they summoned Alcor for a myth and you just know that adorable little nerd would totally geek out over the whole thing and everyone would just be like what even and this needs to be a thing and I really want to write this now but I can’t write worth crap and please write this fic please please please I’LL GIVE YOU MY BLOOD!!!
Every so often, I manage to deliver. Goals for 2017: deliver on random fic requests.
Legend Debunkers had been on for years. It had a dedicated following and over three hundred episodes to its name, alongside a cemented, permanent spot in pop culture.
They’d moved on from urban legends a few seasons back, focusing on movie myths and viewer submissions for the most part, though occasionally returning to their roots. They were more than enough to keep the show going, even after the Transcendence hit and everything had changed, as people began to adjust.
But the viewer requests were changing, and there was a cry for help in most of them.
The world had changed, and suddenly many of the myths, the ones that were supposed to be superstitions or stories, were true. And people didn’t know how to deal with that.
And while the hosts, Aaron and Jared, might not have known anything about magic, they did know science, and get enough of that and you could figure out just about anything.
Finding volunteers to help test some of them were going to be difficult. Neither host particularly wanted to do the myths that might end in someone getting hurt, even if said someone was supernatural. They and the build team might have taken stupid risks now and again in the heat of the moment, but keeping everyone involved safe was still important.
So no myths about ‘does x hurt y’ or 'will x part of y supernatural creature really do z’, though they were considering testing ones like 'can vampires cross running water’.
It was a balancing act – which myths would help people, which would hurt people if it were common knowledge, and which ones would lead to Aaron and Jared being able to make things explode.
Plus, think of all the things they could blow up now that they had magic!
Of course, it took awhile to get all of it going. The production team had to find experts in the area of magic, and those weren’t exactly thick on the ground just yet. Despite everything, some things really just couldn’t be tested without an expert around, and magic wasn’t understood enough yet to mess with.
With magic so new to the rest of the world, most of the people who knew anything about magic had been the weirdos in the old world, witches or freaks or crackpots, and some of them were still bitter enough about how they’d been treated to refuse to share their knowledge with others yet.
Of course, there were others, eager to spread the word, but there were also people out there spreading false information to further their own agendas, make people afraid of this new world and try to change it back.
Well, Legend Debunkers wasn’t going to stand by that if they could help it. They’d helped people before, with their episodes on what to do if you were in a sinking car or myths about holiday trees, so they could do it now. No way they were just going to stand by while people spread around false information if they could help it.
And blow things up in the meantime, but just as a bonus. These explosions were sparkly, now that they had magic!
Anonymous asked: I just found this Halloween prompt and it’s so fluffy that it reminded me of you: “you’re
scared of haunted houses and Halloween attractions and I don’t even know you but
your friends left you behind (what dicks) so I’m gonna hold your hand and get
you through this, alright?"
Author’s note: Halloween is almost here, so it’s about time!
This is all fake. It’s in my head… I am nothing but a rational seventeen year
old who’s currently being utterly irrational.”
mouthing these words of encouragement to himself on repeat, even as his heart
was beating in his throat, his hands balled into fists, fingernails pressing
into his own palms. He squinted as he glanced around, but the long narrow
hallway was too dark for him to see anything; the occasional torch on the wall
was clearly there to serve as decoration, not as a real source of light. All
Castiel could spot were his own two feet.
If he ever made it out of here, his brother Gabriel and his best friend Balthazar
were so going to pay for this.
Let’s go into the Haunted Halloween House of
said. It’ll be fun, those ten bucks will
totally be worth it, they’d said. We
know that this kind of stuff freaks you out, but we’ll be with you every step
of the way buddy, they’d said.
three lies, right there. A scream echoed in the distance, and he flinched.
A/N: This one is a gift to omgthatonecookie! This person is always lurking around, responding to my tags and being so goddamn supportive and I think she deserves a fic! And, to top it all off, I responded to her request for smut. And well, this is mildly NSFW. Just mildly.
You can still read it to your dog.
It’s not that NSFW.
You can track all the fics from this fic-a-thon on this tag!
It’s not fair.
Seriously, it should be illegal for Grace to look that attractive.
Hannah downs a little bit more of her gin and tonic, her hand clasped around the glass that is covered in cool condensation. She half-hopes that the condensation would help cool her down, help her try to relax as she watches Grace interact with other content creators. Her smile is light, hand wrapped around the stem of a martini glass as she continued to converse with Justine and Shane.
She’s wearing a light pink dress, the flowy material coming down to rest on the middle of her upper thighs. The material brushes gently against her long legs, accentuated by a pair of black flats that adorn her feet. There’s a black ribbon tied around her petite waist and all Hannah can imagine is later tonight, when she’s tugging on that black sash and make it come loose, hoping that the rest of the dress comes off with it.
You sighed deeply as you laid yourself down on the rock hard bed in the motel room the boys had rented. It was the group’s first few free days in a long while. Sam and Dean had left you behind to go drinking (“Brotherly bonding,” Dean had assured you, but Sam and rolled his eyes, confirming that his charming older brother wouldn’t be home until late the next morning), and Cas was in the little kitchen, not quite understanding the concept of a break. He was researching some supernatural rumors that were flying across the country.
Hi, my little cupcakes! Hope you’re all well and warm (if you had to brave that blizzard like I did)! This was quite the fun chapter to write and hope you all enjoy! I’d love to hear what you think! <3
History always had a way of repeating itself, which was why I wasn’t surprised to find Niall and Hazel in such a compromising position. The morning after my wedding, they waltzed into breakfast as if I hadn’t noticed they snuck away before we cut the cake. The only noticeable difference was that Hazel was wearing pants then and she wasn’t now.
18. This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.“
Harry couldn’t believe his life had come to this — huddled by himself in a dark, dank shower stall in the third floor bathroom of Whitacre Dorm at 2:00 am, clutching a de-boxed roll of plastic wrap and cursing himself for being so susceptible to peer pressure. So susceptible to one peer’s pressure in particular, actually.
“Louis?” Harry hissed in a whisper. “Lou?”
There had been absolutely no sign of Louis since he’d broken for the toilet stalls on the other side of the bathroom over ten minutes ago to make sure the coast was clear, and Harry wished he knew what to do. Louis was the mastermind of this prank. He was always the mastermind of their pranks, and there had been absolutely no discussion of any contingency plans. It either worked or it didn’t, that seemed to be Louis’s motto.