table&chair

Yuuri following Viktor around while taping and narrating like a nature show
  • Yuuri: *getting off plane in Russia, taping himself and Viktor* You guys, I realized most of you have never seen a Viktor Nikiforov in it's natural habitat, so I'm gonna start a series as I experience it.
  • Viktor: *laughing* Are you kidding me?
  • Yuuri: *dead serious* Nikiforov's apparently find things less believable when they're in Russia. *tapes Viktor laughing* and has a laugh just as beautiful.
  • Viktor: *turns bright red as he laughs and walks away from phone *
  • .
  • Yuuri: *Taping Viktor who is fussing over Yuuri's bruised feet* It seems a Viktor Nikiforov in it's homeland is far more fussy than in Japan.
  • Viktor: *looks up with a serious look* A Viktor Nikiforov doesn't care where we are, you need to take care of your beautiful feet.
  • Yuuri: *wiggling his toes* Ooooo, a Viktor Nikiforov in Russia has a /foot fetish/
  • Viktor: *shoves camera away laughing*
  • .
  • Yuuri: *taping Viktor trying to whip the smoke away from a triggered fire alarm* I'm here with a Viktor Nikiforov, this particular one has forgotten how to live in it's own territory.
  • Viktor: *looks at him, before whipping the phone* I have not! *goes back to it*
  • Yuuri: it's really quite sad to see one so far out of it's depth.
  • Viktor: *in a whine* Yuuri, come help!
  • Yuuri: *walks over to table, drags a chair underneath the alarm*
  • *gets on chair, turns off the alarm with a simple press of the button* *pans to an embarassed but smiling Viktor*
  • Viktor: You can't be serious.
  • Yuuri: *amused* Deadly
  • .
  • Yuuri: *obviously hiding behind the couch while Viktor and Yuri set up the Xbox one* This is an incredible scene, a Viktor Nikiforov and a Yuri Plisetsky struggle with their own gaming system.
  • Yuri and Viktor: *different variations of* Shut up, we've got it!
  • Yuuri: *dive rolls behind chair* it seems both have become aggressive in their confusion upon spotting me.
  • Viktor: *laughing*
  • Yuri: what the fuck is happening?
  • Yuuri: The Plisetsky is asking questions that I don't have answers for.
  • Viktor: Yes you do, don't lie!
  • Yuuri: *aggressively points camera at Viktor*/No I don't!/
  • Yuri: Why are you talking about us like you're in the wild?
  • Yuuri: I mean, isn't being around Russians akin to being in the wild?
  • Viktor: *lies on his back on the floor while he laughs*
  • Yuri: is this a thing? Like for fans?
  • Yuuri: No, they're for me, I like rewatching them.
  • Yuri:
  • Yuuri: *straight facing it like a champ*
  • Viktor: *crying*
  • Yuri: Are you okay?
  • Yuuri: *giggles in a moment of weakness* It seems the Plisetsky and Nikiforov have abandoned their task.
  • Viktor: *screams in his fit of laughter*
  • *video ends*

After Magnus dies, Merle and Taako make a point of meeting and having a drink every now and then. They are long-lived creatures, both of them, and it’s easy to let years or even decades pass between times, but sooner or later one of them always seeks the other out. Usually it’s Taako, still the itinerant one after all these years, who turns up on Merle’s doorstep one day. He hams it up, maybe, and pretends like maybe Merle’s gone senile and forgotten him, or he just stands there with his lazy grin.

Merle is aging well, but he’s aging. It’s obvious in the lines of his face, the way he sits down a little stiffly now. Taako looks as young as ever, but if it’s because of his natural longevity or his glamors, Merle can never tell. They go out together, to Chesney’s Bar & Grill, usually, or some other bar when they’re elsewhere, though it’s getting rarer and rarer for Merle to travel. They sit together and shoot the shit; Taako drinks a Bloody Mary and complains about it, and Merle sips on the traditional Piña Colada of the beach dwarves, with an umbrella in it.

They always pick a table with three chairs, but pretend like it’s coincidence that they do; it’s a sentimental gesture so banal they’re both embarrassed to acknowledge it. But later, after a few drinks, when the conversation trails off, Taako lifts his glass and tilts it towards the empty chair and says with no trace of irony in his voice, “Well, cheers, big guy,” and Merle looks into his drink and says, “Yeah,” and he toasts the air as well.

Worldbuilding: Things That Might Have Been Missed

These are the miscellaneous questions I didn’t put anywhere else.  Things that didn’t get enough questions to have its own post, or things I didn’t think of too much until the end.  In this post, I have written a list questions of … . well, everything else?

Have fun, be detailed and creative, and by all means come up with questions that are not asked.

Because my computer ate everything, these questions are not directly taken from the NaNoWriMo website.  Some are asked from memory, some are questions that sounded like ones I had, and others are ones I came up with.

How is a funeral held?

What happens to the body after someone has died?
Do they bury it?  Place it in a tomb?  Cremate it?  Drop it to the bottom of the sea?  Send it down the river?  Toss it into a dragon’s lair?

How do people mourn?

What is consider an appropriate amount of time for mourning?

What color is used for mourning and funerals?
Black?  White?  Red?  Blue?  No specific color?  What does the color symbolize?

Are there any coming of age rituals?

What happens during a coming of age ritual?

What age is the child normally at when he or she goes the coming of age ritual?

Does it vary by gender?

What kind of jobs exist?

Which jobs are held in high esteem?

Which jobs are despised?

How do people get jobs?
Do they become an apprentice?  Do they need work experience?  A college degree?  How are they offered jobs?  Do they apply?  Talk with the owner?  Get recommended?

What jobs are influenced by magic?

What is the most common way someone meets his or her future spouse?
By growing with them?  Through connections?  School?  In the market?  At a dance?  Arranged marriage?

How technologically advanced is the world?

What is the latest piece of technology?

How does magic affect technology?

How is new technology viewed?
Is it embraced?  Are people apprehensive?  Do they outright spurn new technology?  Do people care?

What does the average bed look like?
Straw mattress?  Water bed?  A pile of blankets?  A wooden platform?  A chair?  A couch?

What are some rules regarding sleep?
Are mixed genders allowed or is that frowned upon unless they’re married?  Do people have their own beds or share with siblings?  Do the rules vary depending on where they’re sleeping?  Is everyone smooshed in together at an inn?  Can money get better bedding?

What are the basic pieces of furniture found in an average house?
Chairs?  Couches? Tables?  Beds?  Bookshelves?  How many are acceptable?  How many pieces of furniture would indicate lavishness?

What are some toys for children?

What do people use as a light source when the sun is not available?

What kinds of dishes are used?
Plates?  Bowls?  Cups or glasses?

What kind of eating utensils do people use?
Chopsticks?  Forks and spoons?  Their hands?

What materials are dishes and eating utensils made of?

What kind of items are used for cooking?
Pots and pans?  Clay pots?  Crock pots?  Skillets?  Wok?  A wooden plate?

Midnight Mystery: A Denny's Story

12:00 pm. It was a cold and windy night, which was quite unusual for Los Angeles, California. But then again, this wasn’t an average night. You could just feel it on your skin. Something wasn’t right, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

You looked down at your hand, knuckles white from nervously gripping onto the crumpled paper note. You decided to read it again, just to be sure you were at the right place. “Denny’s. Devonshire Street. Midnight. Be there. Come alone.”

You sighed heavily, and looked up at the building in front of you, looming in the darkness. Yep, this was it. The inside was dark from what you can tell by looking through the windows. You slowly approached the steps leading up to the large, glass doors. As you walked up each step, you reconsidered this whole thing. What if it was some sort of trap? What if this was where you were going to die? But, the ominous interior of the so-called “restaurant” was beckoning you inside. It’s as if this was your destiny. Cold, unavoidable, and mysterious.

You finally made it to the top of the stairs, and you peered through the glass double-doors. The inside still looked as dark and empty as before. Your shaking hand made it to the door handles, and to your surprise, the door swung open quite easily. They were expecting you. You stepped inside, but still not a sound besides the shuffling of your feet. 

A light comes on. Just a single spotlight over one of the empty booths. As your eyes adjust to the sudden shock of light through the inky blackness, you notice a menu on the illuminated table. It was propped up against a napkin holder, opened to the first page. As you approach it with caution, you notice a golden key set on the table in front of the menu. You lean in to read the page, but realize that there weren’t any food items listed, except for one: pancakes. In every space where there should be a breakfast item, it was replaced with the word “pancakes”. Your stomach begins to rumble. You are hungry… hungry for answers.

Grabbing the menu and the mysterious key, you keep walking through the room, occasionally bumping into tables and chairs in the dark. You make a left turn somewhere and another light comes on. It’s a bit dimmer this time, so it’s not as bad on your eyes. It’s the light at the doorway of the kitchen. As you make your way towards it, you hear a sound behind you. Some sort of creaking noise, like you were being followed…

You whip your head around, but there was nothing there. Just the same empty tables and chairs. You must be imagining things now. Yeah… just imagining things. When you walk into the kitchen, all the lights come on simultaneously. At least, inside of the kitchen that is. There’s nothing abnormal about it. It’s just a regular old kitchen. Something about it seems oddly familiar though. You’d like to think it’s just a bit of déjà vu, but you’re sure you remember this location from before.

You start looking around for some sort of secret entrance or hidden door, but find nothing. You must have missed something… there’s got to be a clue. You look through pots and pans, bags of flour, loose floor tiles. Anything to reveal what to do next! Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see a poster on the wall. That’s it! It’s what the menu was trying to say. The poster had a badly photoshopped stack of pancakes on it, so there has to be something important near it. You run towards it, and rip the poster from the wall to discover a metal safe built into the wall. It was pretty plain except for a keyhole, which obviously fit the key from before. You shove the shiny, golden key into it’s designated spot and turn it. Instead of the safe opening though, the entire wall split into a doorframe! The key must have activated the entrance, and it’s finally time to see what you’ve been waiting for.

When the door swung open, it revealed another dark room. You take a deep breath, and step inside. The second your foot passes the doorframe, a set of extremely bright lights come on, and your eyes are momentarily blinded once again. When they adjust, something beautiful is revealed. Something magical. Something one can only dream about.

Wait a minute. This can’t be real… this isn’t real at all! This is just a dream! It’s just a dream!

You woke up covered in sweat, tears running down your eyes and your pillow soaked. You were gasping for air, your breaths coming in short and fast. You glanced out the window from your bed, and noticed that it was morning. It was just a dream after all, but it was exactly what you needed. You’ve been waiting for some kind of vision, a sign, a dream. And now, you’ve got it. Before you lost the image in your mind, you raced to your desk and opened up your laptop, desperately waiting for it to start up. You plopped down into your rolling chair, and typed in your password. It was ‘pancakes’, of course. You pulled up one of those electronic sticky notes that hang around on your desktop, and began typing in the description of that magical image you saw in your dream. Yes… this is it! The inspiration you’ve been hoping for!

“A stack of pancakes, but the butter on top is larger and zoomed in, and it’s photoshopped to look like an ice cream scoop with a cherry on top and sprinkles. It’s a pancake sundae!”

You cease your furious typing, take a deep breath, and stretch out your arms. This is the kind of genius your Denny’s blog needed.

2

Attic Kitchen

DOWNLOAD: Counter / Fridge / Fridge Cabinet / Stove / Sink / Shelf / End Table / Windows / Poster / Wall 1 / Wall 2 / Plants / Living Seat / Tea Kettle / Ceramic Canister / Cups 1 / Cups 2 / Column / Sloping Wall / Tree / Rug / Magazine Holder / Kitchen Scale / Apples / Dishwasher (EA) / Floor - Base Game (EA) / Table - Atemporal (Simcredible) / Chair - Dining Room Connection (Simcredible) / Plants - Set ‘Green Time’ (Simcredible)

Negotiations

I walked into the room, avoiding direct eye contact with the alien waiting for me. Its huge eyes just looked like a jet black sclera set in a sack of vaguely damp, wrinkled gray leather. If eyes are a window into the soul, this creepy little guy would give satan a run for his money. They just put me on edge, somehow. I’d have to make eye contact anyway, but it could wait.

I strode up to the meeting table, pulled out the chair, and sat down. I shuffled around in my bag for a moment before pulling out a small piece of tech, which I set on the table in front of me.

“Before we begin, I want to be sure of a few things. This device you’ve provided us with, it is 100% effective at understanding and translating languages, correct?”

The alien across from me nodded. It’s a nice little allowance they’ve made for comfort, learning our body language, but its bulbous head threw the whole gesture off. It made me think of one of those old inflatable toys with a weight on the bottom, that would lean too far to the side before bouncing straight back up. Woobles or something. It didn’t really matter.

“Nearly. We occasionally find a race with one or two concepts that it has trouble with, but that’s easily smoothed over.”

I took a deep breath, and waited a moment to compose myself. This whole thing was going to be more trying than not interrupting old man Higgins up the street while he went on about whatever racist sentiment was in his head at the moment.

“One or two…okay. That’s odd.”

The alien blinked. Eyelids came in from not just the top and bottom, but also the sides. That’s just plain creepy. Reminds me of one of those really old movies they threw on the media blacklist pretty much as soon as first contact started. Something in black. Whatever it was, I remember seeing it as a kid, and that guy at the beginning had nothing on this alien’s eyes.

“Have you already found something it can’t translate?”

I nodded, then pulled out my communicator and scrolled through a few documents. I really needed to clean this thing out. Can’t believe I didn’t get around to it before coming to such an important meeting. Imagine the debacle that would result if I opened exactly the wrong thing. Never can know what that might be, honestly.

“Of a sort, yes. Mind humoring me for a few minutes?”

The alien steepled its hands together, and leaned forward. That’s just plain creepy. I wonder how they learned such context specific body language? Not that it really matters, I guess. Not my problem.

“Certainly. After all, it can take years to accept a race into the Federation.”

Nodding again, I pulled up a document on my communicator, then leaned back in my chair as I began. This was going to be more interesting than that time your classmate Jimmy found some old matches somewhere and almost burned the school down by mistake.

“Excellent. This shouldn’t take much time. I mentioned that we found some issues with your device. Allow me to demonstrate: Espionage.”

The little device on the table beeped, and a red light flashed.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”

I sighed. That one had been an accident. We just had the thing sitting in a conference room while we discussed the implications of the visit when it came up. But, when something that simple for us to understand came up, we had to try for more.

“Reverse Engineering.”

Again, a beep and a flash of red.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FOUND”

“Spycraft.”

And again with the beep. This was going to get irritating if I didn’t speed things up a bit. Too bad we hadn’t managed to find a mute option for that feature.

“ERROR: NO ANALOGUE FO-”

“Overwhelming Force”

“ERROR: NO-”

“Scorched Earth”

“ER-”

“Kamikaze”

“E-”

Blitzkrieg, Stealth, Mutually Assured Destruction, Acceptable Losses, Pyrrhic Victory, Guerilla Warfare, Encirclement, Entrenchment, Siege.”

The device gave off a series of distressed beeps, punctuated by rapid blinking of the little red light. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.

“TOO MANY ERRORS DETECTED. REBOOTING. RUNNING SELF DIAGNOSTIC. NO DISCREPANCIES FOUND,”

I paused, and glanced across the table at the alien before looking back down at the translator. This was going to hit it harder than a washed up holovid actor with no auditions and less money hits rock bottom.

“Xenocide”

The chair across from me clattered to the ground as the alien practically fell out of its seat. I don’t blame the poor thing. Of all the aggressive, militaristic words we tried, that was one of the ones we least expected to translate. I mean, really. Who has a word for the intentional extermination of an entire sapient species when they don’t even understand fundamental hostile international mechanics like spying?

“Why do you have a word for…what was all that just now?”

I chuckled a bit while motioning for the alien to sit back down. His reaction had been pretty good, perfectly suitable for one of those hammed-up old dramas where the hero realizes they’ve been working with the villain all along.

“We were confused about that too. So we took a look at the information you sent as part of first contact with us. We noticed something interesting. Every single race in your Federation is carnivorous. Why is that?”

The alien seemed smaller somehow as it settled back into a seat. It looked kind of like a balloon slowly losing air, if that balloon was made of moldering gray leather with eyes that made your spinal column decide it wanted a holiday in Fiji.

“First contact has always been made after sapient races make it to multiple worlds. We’ve never found a sapient herbivorous race which failed to destroy themselves in resource wars and aggressive action. We’ve never found herbivores capable of surviving long enough to leave their own world.”

I leaned forward in the chair and smiled while finally making direct eye contact with the alien. I think the poor thing shivered when I did that. Not that I blame it. Imagine your reaction when you start to put the pieces together and realize that your friendly, upstanding next door neighbor might be the world’s most wanted criminal.

“And the races you have found, while commonly using threat displays, do not waste resources on wars they cannot easily win, correct?”

The alien nodded as it slouched a bit in its chair. It looked kind of like it was trying to hide. Who wouldn’t want to hide from the monsters in their closet?

“Wasted resources means decreased likelihood of survival.”

I shrugged. That was true enough, though rather coldly logical. Dispassionate logic like that has never been our strong suit. Then again, that’s why I’m in this situation in the first place, so it evens out.

“And yet herbivores constantly waste resources on aggression, on movement, on having more young than will possibly survive.”

The alien was staring at me. I’m not sure when the last time it blinked was. I wonder if those eyes need some kind of lubrication to keep from drying out. Probably, they looked a bit less creepy than they should’ve. Looked like they were losing their shine.

“And they die for it. That’s exactly why we’ve never encountered spacefaring herbivores. Their inherent aggression is their own demise.”

I held eye contact. I’d almost swear the alien was a weird statue right now. Don’t know who would commission a statue made of old greasy leather, but I’m sure there’s someone with too much money and too little sense who would give it a shot.

“Indeed. Now, back to the subject at hand. I’ll ask you before we continue: what can you offer humans for joining your Federation?”

The alien sputtered as it started moving again. I’d swear it looked offended. Maybe it doesn’t see where this is going. Not that it really matters, I guess. I mean, it probably matters about as much as posting a formal complaint to a new corporate policy, which is to say not at all.

“We’ve already sent the offer. You’ve seen that, I’m sure.”

I nodded, and began to tap out a staccato rhythm on the table with my fingers. I never could remember where I learned this stupid tune. I’ve known it as long as I can remember, and it just moves into my head on occasion and sticks around like that one couchsurfing friend who doesn’t understand the idea of wearing out their welcome.

“And I’m asking, what else do you have to offer?”

The alien just shook its head again, staring at the device. I wonder if it thought we might’ve tampered with it. As if we knew how. That little thing is way beyond our current abilities. We had some scientists pry it open and look inside, just to be sure.

“Nothing. I’m not sure why you’re-”

I raised my hand, cutting him off. Huh. Not sure why that worked. Did they learn that much of our body language? That’s still really creepy, if it’s the case. Or, maybe I just have it on edge. I dunno. I guess it doesn’t matter.

“May I have permission to connect my datapad with my ship’s computers?”

The alien glanced away from me for a moment. I assume it was checking in with superiors somehow. Maybe it was psychic, to an extent. Or maybe they just had an implant of some sort. We’ll find out eventually, I’m sure.

“Yes, if you like.”

I sighed. I guess that makes things easier for us. I don’t think anyone was going to like what I was about to do. This whole thing felt kind of like one of those holovids of an accident, where you know what’s coming and don’t want to keep going, but for some reason you just can’t seem to stop and pull yourself away.

“Computer, show video: Hiroshima”

A screen appeared in the air above my datapad. It started playing back an old, grainy video. Shaky, taken by hand in an aircraft in a firefight. Below, you can barely see a city being blotted out by a massive explosion. A cloud of smoke, fire and debris was rapidly climbing into the sky, billowing, growing, blooming into an eerie and easily recognized mushroom cloud.

“That’s…you’re using weapons of that scale on a population center? How recent was this?”

I shrugged, and closed the video. The screen on my datapad went back to the document I had up earlier. Gotta love how well they managed to predict this whole thing. I made a mental note to recommend a raise for whoever set up that document for me.

“Three centuries ago. Prior to our invention of spaceflight. Part of a much larger conflict. This is a relatively minor example of “overwhelming force”“

“ERROR: NO A-”

“Shut it. Computer, show infosheet: Battle of Stalingrad.”

A series of graphs and diagrams appeared above my datapad. They showed resources, time, maps, battle plans, and death tolls. Images were interspersed throughout, as were annotations on the tactical value of this, the emotional value of that. Prominent among them was a single apartment building, including notes on sniping from the roof and support via tunnels.

“That…what purpose would that…why w-”

Again, I raised my hand to cut him off, before closing the infosheet. Maybe it was both. Nah, couldn’t be. Only way it was both having this guy on edge and our body language is if it somehow had our body language built in. Unsettling thought, but not exactly likely.

“Because Stalingrad was an advantageous location and the people who died there were considered ‘Acceptable losses’“

“ERRO-”

“Computer, show gallery: General Sherman’s March to the Sea.”

A multitude of images appeared over the datapad. Rail lines and roads intentionally broken and destroyed. Farms and fields scoured clean and left to fallow. Buildings and towns razed to the ground. A broken people left to mourn and starve.

“So much waste…that can’t be intentional, can it?”

I glanced at the images, the wanton destruction that campaign caused, and the very orders that caused it. That kind of thing may be considered morally reprehensible now, even a war crime, but it wasn’t always. At the time, the strategy was extolled as one of the reasons the war ended the way it did.

“It was intentional.”

The alien stared at me, its reflective black eyes bigger than I’d ever seen them before. Creepy as all hell, that’s for sure. I’d rather not deal with these kinds of meetings in the future. Maybe after this I could negotiate for some kind of retirement.

“But…why?”

I tapped my datapad and closed the gallery, then leaned back and tossed my feet on the table. May as well relax, I already knew how this was going to end.

“Because it rendered the enemy unable to use resources Sherman couldn’t keep. Computer, assemble and show video grouping: RTS Games”

A large grid of videos came up, showing a huge range of scenes. Largely battle, the settings varied from open space to deep ocean, from early history to the far “future.” Even battles across space and time could be seen.

“The translator can’t have gotten that right. Those are military tactical simulations. Higher level than anything I’ve ever seen or heard of.”

I laughed as I closed out all of the videos and turned back to the alien. Creepy and unsettling as it might be, I’m pretty sure I was terrifying the poor thing. Not that I really felt sorry for it. Not at all.

“No. They aren’t. Those are games. Toys. For. Fun. And they’re a couple hundred years out of date. From what I’ve seen, nearly every human capable of coherent speech is capable of tactically overwhelming your Federation. And since we’re already here, in space, it’s too late for you to say no. So, I’ll ask again:

What do you have to offer us?”

How to do a sigil

Yes hello I am a Alex and this is a thing of how I do a witchcraft. If you do this a certain way feel free to not listen. If you don’t like the way I do it lit, donut do it this way :3 that is all

What is a sigil?

“an inscribed or painted symbol considered to have magical power.” -google
aka a digital or physical painting/drawing/craving/or anything with a design that is given a certain meaning by the person who made it.

What are sigils used for?

The maker draws a doodle (more or less) and charges it with their intent. 

Can anybody make one?

Anyone :3

How complicated does it have to be/look like?

It shouldn’t be that hard or pretty, as long as it pleases you it is fine

What materials do you gotta use?

Whatever you got. digital or physical. Paper and pencil/pen/blood/wax/anything - Wood drawing things/knife to carve
Literally a n y t h i n g

Do sigils have to be aesthetically pleasing?

Nope :3 just has to have meaning it you/someone you’re making it for

Do you have to be a witch to use sigils?

No you don’t. It’s up to you and your beliefs 

Where can you put sigils?

*cracks knuckles* Shoes, binders, behind phone cases, under tables, under chairs, on your nails with sharpies then put nail polish over it, in your car, in a pillow, draw them on yourself (thighs, stomachs, arms, whatever), clothes tags, out of ketchup on your food, literally anything and everything you can think of

Can I cut out a sigil for a keychain or somethin?

Yes, and you can put them on your alter, hang em in a car, etc 

Can you use sigils in spells?

Yes you can, just like tarot cards and oracle cards

Can you have two different sigils for the same thing?

Yes you can (ex.  if you have one for happiness, but want to make another one for happiness, you can draw a different design) (ex. 2- if you see someone make one to ward off depression and want to make one for the same reason, you can make one but with a different design)

How do you “activate” a sigil?

As soon as you draw it, it’s activated. However if you want to give it a little umph, you can bury them, burn them, submerge it in water, etc. If burning you can wafe (is that even a word) an object through the smoke to charge it with your intent

Are sigils used for cursing/hexing too?

Sure can be, up to you and your beliefs/craft

What all can you use sigils for?

Everything. happiness, good luck, help to study, anti*illness*, help your plants grow, help your phone battery last longer, help Kendall to not be a bitch, the list is endless

And finally, how do you a sigil?

  1. Understand what you want the sigil for, I would suggest a simple one at first so I’m going to explain how to do it for happiness
  2. Gather your resources, again I’m doing a easy one so I am going to “use” a pencil and paper
  3. Get in the mindset of the intent you are going for, so this one is happy. Maybe do some stretching before and clear your mind
  4. Now that you’re all razzle dazzled in a happy mood, close you eyes and thing, what shape in happiness to you right in that moment. Do you thing it’s a bunch of lines or even as simple as a heart? Thing about it
  5. Now if you have trouble with step 4 (like I do, ADHD is a lil bitch) play some music that makes you happy or a movie. Does Frozen make you happy? Maybe draw a lil snowflake
  6. Now as fun as it is to draw an elaborate sigil, remember, this can go into your Grimoire or BoS for you to copy onto other things 

The most important thing now,

Magic requires consent

Please don’t put “Make Justin love me”

Instead you can put “Attract someone who would love me that has the same traits as Justin”


Stay safe beans and happy sigiling!

(is that a word)

♡ HOUSEHOLD ITEMS.

집 - house
아파트 - apartment
기숙사 - dormitory
방 - room

🌼 방/거실 안에 : in the room/living room & more~
침대 - bed
이불/담요 - blanket
베개 - pillow
자명종 - alarm clock
시계 - clock
거울 - mirror
컴퓨터 - computer
책상 - desk
책장 - bookcase
창문 - window
의자 - chair
램프 - lamp
소파 - sofa
텔레비전 - television
전화기 - telephone

🌼 화장실 안에 : in the bathroom~
변기 - toilet
샤워실 - shower
수건 - towel
치약 - toothpaste
칫솔 - toothbrush
비누 - soap
샴푸 - shampoo

🌼 부억 안에 : in the kitchen~
오븐 - oven
냉장고 - refrigerator
식탁 - dinner Table
의자 - chair
접시 - plate
컵 - cup

🌼 USEFUL VERBS :
하다 - to do
요리하다 - to cook
먹다 - to eat
마시다 - to drink
읽다 - to read
자다 - to sleep
일어나다 - to get up
청소하다 - to clean
샤워를 하다 - to take a shower
놀다 - to play
숙제하다 - to do homework
공부하다 - to study

Originally posted by anime-scenery-tofy701

Behind the Scenes AU

-Behind the scenes of BNHA, there are just a bunch of actors and actresses attempting to look like they have superpowers and sometimes failing miserably at their own stunts. Their love for each other is still the same though. c:

-Every time Izuku disappears in the makeup artist’s room, a small crowd of the other actors and crew form outside. After sometimes an hour or two (prob more tbh), Izuku will stumble out with exaggerated limping and show off his “mangled” body parts. He’s had to break his bones so many times in this series, he’s used to the amount of makeup they have to put on him. The others always laugh and suggest ways he might’ve hurt himself this badly in real life.

-Izuku: “I dunno, it’s gotta be hard to hurt myself like this without a power. …maybe get hit by a train. Five times.”

-Kiri gets made fun of because his sharp teeth are actually real. The first time they met him to read through the first script, he smiled all wide and five people gasped.

-Ochako asked him if he filed them that way or if he has a hard time brushing his teeth. Izuku wanted to know allllll about his crazy dentist experiences. And Denki just walked up, stuck his fingers in Kiri’s mouth and went “HOLY SHIT THEY’RE SHARPER THAN I THOUGHT!”
Kiri: “DENKI STOP–MMMMPH!”

-When he’s not playing his explosive, angry character, Katsuki is actually one of the most loved actors in the whole group. He’s super friendly and playful, and helps everyone a lot. (He’s still an overachiever and he still swears like a sailor though)

-The oddest thing for them to watch is the transition from a bullying scene to when Izuku and Katsuki fall out of character. The minute a scene is over, Izuku will laugh and say something like “you had me scared for a second, Kacchan!” or “great job, I really thought you were gonna kill me for a minute.” Katsuki always grins and ruffles Izuku’s hair, before asking for water because “i am going to destroy my fucking voice if i have to shout at someone one more time.”

-As actors, Izuku and Katsuki are best friends, and they meet to read scripts a lot, or discuss ways to act through scenes. They get along really well and aren’t above hugging each other or showing up in each other’s clothes on set. (Not that they’re like dating or anything lol theytotallyare ANYWAY) There have been times when Izuku had to comfort Katsuki after a particularly harsh scene, because it hurts Katsuki sometimes to say such awful things to Izuku.

-Out of character, Shinsou is basically Aizawa, minus the sleeping bag. He has shown up near-late to read-throughs, in pajama bottoms, with a blanket, coffee, and muttering, “when can i sleep again” He naps all the time. He can fall asleep on anything, anywhere. He doesn’t know how to explain why he likes it so much, they’ve just accepted that if you can’t find Shinsou anywhere, he’s probably hiding in a place where he can sleep.

-Places Shinsou has fallen asleep: slumped over his dressing room table, in a chair, during read-throughs, on car rides, in Izuku’s lap, on Katsuki’s back while he was being carried, leaning against a wall, on the floor. The boy has no shame.

-As an actor, Shouto is the quiet one of the group. But he still strangely doesn’t mind getting into any of the ridiculous pranks or funny situations with the other actors at all. And he can be hilarious too. He is accidentally sarcastic with people. He doesn’t mean to be, but it comes out that way.

-“Shouto, Kiri told me I look ugly in this, but I think he’s wrong.”
“……what do you want from me”
“Tell me how it looks!”
“Oh. …..I thought Kiri already did.”

-Shouto also has a strange way of not practicing too much, but then going out, winging it, and acting like he’s freaking become the character. He’s made the other actors and actresses cry while watching his more emotional scenes. It’s very adorable to praise him after this, because his quiet mask breaks into a little smile and he just mumbles “thank you.”

-He has a not-so-tiny crush on the Wonder Duo, but refuses to tell anyone or admit it out loud. But he always hangs around them and when Izuku and Katsuki started talking to him, he lit up. He isn’t nearly as quiet or cold with them, he loves talking to them. Izuku and Katsuki love it too; Shouto will talk a lot with them, but his voice is still soft and it is the most endearing thing. Shouto blushes like a fool whenever they compliment him and could spend hours discussing the intricate details of Izuku’s eyes or Katsuki’s hair.

-Kiri: “Okay, new challenge! Everybody trade characters with someone else and be that character for the rest of the day! You can’t break character! Winner gets this chocolate bar I stole from Aizawa. Got it?”

Katsuki: “You wanna trade, Izuku?”

Shouto: “Can Izuku even become that mean?”

Izuku: “FUCK YES, OUT OF MY WAY HALF-AND-HALF BASTARD, I WILL FUCKING DESTROY YOU ALL.”

Shouto: “….oh my god.”

just a bet

HEY HI WADDUP

so this is based LOOSELY on will and emma from the scream tv series. if you havent seen it, that doesnt matter bc like…. its not important

ANYWAY

THEY ARE SENIORS IN THIS

THAT MEANS THEY ARE 18!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE DONT ATTACK ME FOR THIS BC THE ACTORS HAVE NO RELATION TO THE CHARACTER IM WRITING K THX

there won’t be nsfw but there are MENTIONS of it sooooo

YEAH

anyway enjoy ily all

summary: beverly bets richie he can’t get with the new kid, eddie, in under three months. richie disagrees

pairing: richie and eddie

words: 1870

part two, three, four, five


Everyone at Derry High School knew of the senior Richie Tozier. No matter who they were, what social group they were apart of, they all knew of the trashmouth. Every girl swooned over him and every gay (and possibly ‘not’ gay) guy would beg for his number. He was the ‘It’ guy in his high school and even the other high schools in the Derry school district. It was common knowledge that Richie was bi. Some people said it was fake and that he said it for more attention, but his real friends knew it wasn’t bullshit at all. 


Richie strode into the school building that Monday morning, casually sliding off his sunglasses and hooking them in his shirt. People in the hallways snuck glances at him, some even saying hello to him politely as he passed. He nodded in response, flashing them a smile. Richie approached his locker and opened it with ease, getting his few textbooks out. Despite being a ‘jock’, he still cared about his grades. 


“Hey, Rich, did you hear about the new kid?” Beverly asked casually, making her presence known. She leaned against the navy blue lockers, a small smile playing on her lips.

Keep reading

Now that Bitty and Tater build a friendship around food and the roasting of Kent Parson,

,  I want to read the fics where Tater starts to date Parse and must hide his new relationship from Bitty-

Bitty: BUT WHY, TATER, WHYYY???? I TRUSTED YOU! YOU WERE MY FRIEND! NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE ANYMORE! 

Jack: Haha. I’m happy for you, guys.

Bitty: IS THIS TABLE REAL? IS THIS CHAIR REAL? I DON’T KNOW???


And later, Bitty giving the deadliest sounding shovel talk to Parse while aggressively feeding him his best pie because ANYONE WHO MAKES TATER HAPPY IS A FRIEND OF BITTY, ALRIGHT?!? *forcefeeds pie*

(Kent gets the most mixed signals out of this. He thought it would be hard to tell Jack, but Jack is just laughing at him.)

anonymous asked:

Sterek, Glasses. Magic. Diner.

Filling Prompts Live Nightly!

——-

Derek fiddled with the fragile pair of glasses Stiles had unofficially borrowed from Deaton after Allison had borrowed them without permission from her father. They were, according to Allison, a magical artifact that was somehow supposed to help the wearer to see the truth. As this would more than likely reveal werewolves without any guesswork, it was understandable that none of them wanted such an artifact in the hands of hunters, even one that had agreed to a tentative truce.

So now they were here, hiding at a diner Derek normally wouldn’t be caught dead at, looking for answers. Stiles was flipping through pages of a book he had also questionably borrowed, reading about curses and enchantments, so that they could tell if the glasses were even safe to put on at all.

“Wow, it’s like really unhelpful,” Stiles said around his mouthful of curly fries. He laid the book down and spun it so Derek could read, even though he said it aloud anyway. “Enchantments aid the intended user, curses aid the original caster. For example, a truth enchantment would reveal the truth to the user, where as a truth curse would force the user to reveal the truth to the caster.”

“How do you tell the difference, if you didn’t cast the spell?” Derek asked, glancing down at the flowing script.

“Exactly,” Stiles said, like he won an argument, even though for once they were not arguing. “It doesn’t say. I guess someone’s just going to have to, like, put them on.”

“Are you volunteering?” Derek asked, raising a brow.

“To test unknown magic on myself?” Stiles returned, then scoffed. Derek could see him shifting to get ready to make a grab for the glasses, so he moved them enough Stiles had to reconsider. “Oh, come on.”

“And what if they’re cursed?” Derek said, reasonably.

“Then you ask me embarrassing questions until I take them off,” Stiles answered immediately. He had thought about this, clearly. “They can’t be that dangerous if Chris didn’t lock them up.”

Derek relented with a sigh, because he really did not think that the glasses were actually harmful. And they did need to know what exactly they did. Stiles snatched them up greedily, unfolding the delicate arms with a grace he seemed to reserve only for magic, and slipped them onto his face. Derek couldn’t help the stray though zipping through his mind, that Stiles really did look cute in glasses.

“Oh,” Stiles said, small and big, when he looked at Derek. He swallowed, looking like he could see ghosts currently, and Derek figured that meant they’d been right. It would reveal werewolves.

“You’ve seen me wolf out,” Derek told him, holding out a hand to take the glasses.

“You love me,” Stiles said, hushed, and Derek’s blood ran cold as he looked up to meet Stiles’ eyes.

Oh, no. No no no.

“What?” Derek said, mouth dry, mind tailspinning.

“You love me,” Stiles repeated, reverently, not looking away.

“Stiles, I…” Derek shook his head, not sure what he could even say. Of course he did. He had for a while, but he’d never intended to say a word. He’d never intended to ruin what they had going, like he had ruined so many other things.

Stiles snatched the glasses off his nose like they’d burned him, and if they hadn’t been sitting in a booth, he’d have knocked the chair and table over in his scramble to get to his feet. Derek pulled back a little when Stiles came at him with the glasses, but he froze when Stiles did, and then allowed Stiles to place the glasses on him, instead.

With a heavy whump, Stiles sat back down across from him, staring at him with wide, urgent eyes. Derek blinked once, twice, and then he suddenly understood how Stiles knew. He could see it there, plain as day, in the way Stiles looked at him. In the beat of his heart, in the catch of his breath, in the quirk of his smile. Nothing had really changed, Derek couldn’t see anything actually different about Stiles while looking through the glasses, but he knew.

Stiles loved him, too.