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We recently watched short films - from awful ones to great ones. If you want to play at home, check out (all on youtube or vimeo), let us know what you think, and tune in Mon, 11/19, for Episode 11!

Looking to liven up your Monday? TONIGHT will be playing with GET YOUR TICKETS HERE:

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Are you looking to give back? your time? Donate your talent? Help cats? We probably have a volunteer role for you! Check out what roles we need filled, and apply today: Pictured: Adoptable

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- in New London, : Students report experiencing a variety of unexplained occurrences in , as well as witnessing the of a male figure wearing a top hat near the ....

⑤つい先日メーカーが廃業して、ソーヤーもカフェも大丈夫なのか心配で、担当さんにその辺伺って来た。 曰く、このカフェはH.I.Sの運営だから、営業不振とかにならない限り大丈夫とのコトw(^▽^*)ヨカッタ ちなみにこのソーヤーの名前は「トム」だってさw

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①UPするの忘れてましたが、WRS行った日、渋谷モディの「変なカフェ」にも足を伸ばして来ました^^ノ 1本腕のソーヤーが淹れてくれた本格ドリップコーヒーとワッフルで一休み♪ そこそこ利用者居て忙しそうでした(゜▽゜*) 動画もあるヨ↓

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In all my history of loving tough characters, alias apparently bad boy with a sad soften heart, how the hell I missed this one? Better late than never.

Today in 2012, this tiny little puppy visited our house for the first time.

If i played a character from ... My name would be . Id be a black lawyer... Undisputed and ethical... But imagine a black woman named Tom... Like why did her mother name her Tom? Aren't I already black enough? Tough Fights

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I’ve been in hard core bitch writing mode for about 48 hours now, and this dude with his fucking snoring is driving me nuts. I feel mean waking him up, but I can’t handle the noise 🤷🏻‍♀️ #wakingupsawyer #snoringdog #again #underbite #loud #noise #stop #hardcorebitchwritingmode #sawyer #sleepyboy #snoringboy #sweetboy #swagger #rescue #rescuedog #rescuedogsofinstagram

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sassbringer  asked:

Because I can, and I love all your children- for Sawyer: 9, 12, 17, 21.

Ah yes, my newest disaster child, fresh out of the bayou.

9. Does your character dream or are their nights filled with an empty blackness? Describe a dream they’ve had or a night they couldn’t sleep and what they did to preoccupy their time.

If you were to ask, Sawyer would say that she sleeps just fine, but it’s a lie. Most nights are spent trying to stay away as long as possible, which was a necessity that developed into a paranoid habit over time. Sawyer’s spent a decent amount of time traveling alone, so any night not spent in a tavern required constant vigilance. When it can’t be helped though, she does dream. However, what she dream always seems to be conveniently forgotten.

12. Describe 5 unusual characteristics your character has.

The most noticeable characteristic is probably Sawyer’s manner of speech. It tends to be somewhat curt and to the point, especially in response to personal inquiries. That’s not to say she can’t turn on the charm. It’s just the way things were back home; you don’t waste breath on things that aren’t necessary. Physically, the most noticeable traits have to be Sawyer’s eyes - one green and one grey - followed by the sheer amount of freckles she has on her face, arms, shoulders… everywhere, really. Other than that, perhaps slightly unusual is her affinity for climbing just about anything as well as her severe aversion to “ladylike” attire.    

17. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people?

Sawyer’s a huge introvert, but you could never tell. She tends to enjoy getting to know new people, even if she’s wary of them, because the world is vast, and there are so many things to learn from people outside of her small fishing town. Also, crowds are good for hiding. 

21. Your character has been granted 3 wishes; what would they wish for and why?

First would be for new memories. It may be a bit unorthodox, but there are things Sawyer has witnessed that she would rather forget and have replaced with just about anything else.

Second, she’d love to change her eye color. Probably to blue.

Her last wish would be for money. She’s tired of being poor, and in her experience there really isn’t anything money can’t buy.

Nov(emeto)ber Day 13: So Many Regrets


Warning(s): food mention, food poisoning, vomiting, emetophobic character

All Sawyer wanted to do was bake some cookies. The gesture had mostly been to satiate his own sweet tooth, but he thought Alex might also enjoy some warm chocolate chip cookies once he got home from work.

However, when Alex did finally make it home, Sawyer was a in a sniveling heap on the couch. He was curled up on his side, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach.

“What did you do?” Alex asked by way of greeting. He sounded exasperated.

“Nothing!” Sawyer cried defensively. He whined softly as his stomach cramped. “My stomach just hurts.”

Alex pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. Glancing into the kitchen, he could see the opened package of pre-made cookie dough sitting on the counter. The oven appeared to be off and there was no other indication that Sawyer had been doing anything other than looking for a quick snack.

“Did you eat the whole thing?”

Sawyer nodded, watching as Alex set down his laptop bag and crawling into his lap once his boyfriend sat down beside him.

“There’s like two dozen cookies in there,” Alex said, disbelieving. “No wonder you have a stomachache.”

“Can you make it feel better?”

Alex snorted. “Yeah, yeah.” He slipped his hand under the hem of Sawyer’s shirt, feeling the warm, domed flesh of his abdomen. Sawyer’s stomach rumbles and whined beneath his palm, and he worked his hand in slow and easy circles around the bloat.

“I just wanted to make cookies for us,” Sawyer said, “but now my stomach hurts.”

Alex didn’t doubt that for a second. Sawyer looked pale, and with the exception of his stomach, his skin was cool and clammy. Sweat beaded his forehead, and Alex couldn’t help but notice that Sawyer couldn’t seem to stop swallowing.

“You know you’re not supposed to eat raw cookie dough,” he pointed out. He probably didn’t have to say anything—Sawyer seemed to get the gist all on his own—but sometimes Alex had a hard time turning off the teacher in him.

Sawyer only sniffled in reply. He kept his eyes trained toward the tv, though he was more focused on Alex’s hand rubbing soothingly across his stomach.

At some point he started trembling, and he’d developed this cough from seemingly nowhere.

“Are you all right?” Alex could tell Sawyer was feeling sick, and he hoped that bringing it up wouldn’t cause his boyfriend to spiral.

Sawyer pursed his lips, his shoulders jolting with a queasy hiccup. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, and all Alex could do was run his fingers through Sawyer’s hair.

“All right, you’re all right,” he said, lowering his voice. He brushed Sawyer’s bangs out of his face and very slowly dragged himself off the couch.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed the tall trashcan from the pantry. Sawyer was already sitting on the edge of the couch when he came back. He was hunched over and his arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, his skin a sickly gray color.

Alex sat down beside him, draping and arm across his shoulders as he set the trashcan between Sawyer’s knees. His poor boyfriend was shaking with the effort of suppressing his nausea, but Alex could tell from the pained look on his face and the way he swallowed with difficulty that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Don’t fight it, Sawyer. You’re only going to make yourself feel worse.” He wanted to be careful with his word choice, but there was no point denying the inevitable. “Just let it happen, okay? I’m right here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Sawyer sucked in a large shuddering breath, clapping his hands over his mouth as his stomach lurched. He choked back a sob, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

Alex kissed his temple and gently pried Sawyer’s hands away from his face. “I love you,” he whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

Sawyer next sob morphed onto a retch and his breathing grew erratic. Alex held him and rubbed his back, muttering assurances even after Sawyer began to heave.

The vomit was thick and copious. He strained to get it up, violent retches echoing around the living room and pulling at the muscles in his abdomen.

His stomach was not finished when he’d rid it of the offending cookie dough, and he continued to heave until he was absolutely empty. He felt weak and exhausted when he was finished, and he tried to crawl up onto the couch away from the sight and stench of sick.

Alex frowned and let Sawyer curl up in his arms. His boyfriend’s skin was still clammy, but he was also a little warm, and Alex worried that this had not come on solely by overeating.

“How do you feel?” he asked after giving Sawyer the proper amount of time to calm down.

“Not very good,” Sawyer admitted quietly. He was still pale and his stomach growled with the unmistakable sound of queasiness. He rubbed his hand over the front of his shirt. “I want to go to bed.”

Alex agreed, nodding. “You deserve some rest. Think you’ll need the trashcan?”

Sawyer surprised them both by letting out a wet, nauseous burp. He bit his lips and looked like he was trying incredibly hard not to cry.

Alex resisted the urge to sigh. Helping his boyfriend off the couch and grabbing the trashcan, he prepared himself for the long night ahead.

  • ALIAS: Sawyer Monroe
  • SPECIES: Warlock
  • AGE: 25
  • OCCUPATION: Illusionist x Con Artist
  •  AFFILIATION: Neutral


This kid is out of control, Sister Abigail wailed, something needs to be done.

Father Alec Addams merely shook his head, steady in his decision. Sawyer deserved the same chance as everyone else; a chance to grow and to expand and to prosper. Others, however, disagreed. They likened him to a serpent        the proverbial snake in the garden, cursed with an ungodly desire for chaos and violence. And they weren’t entirely wrong.

Raised in a Catholic orphanage, he developed an impressive understanding of the bible, the young boy often warping different religious passages to further his own agenda. He was interested in adventure and riches; a fact made obvious by the books he would steal and hide beneath his bed. Sister Abigail said it was okay to dream, but foolish to believe that any of it could come true. Naturally, he ignored her, continuing to read his books before snatch things from the pockets of others. Eventually he became something of a prodigy, a criminal in the making as he found himself obsessed with claiming ownership of things that didn’t belong to him. Sawyer the Spectacular,  he would call himself.

Suffice it to say, he was shocked when the supernatural aspect of his lineage came into the mix. While odd things would happen around him, solidifying the fear that many of the sisters had of him, he certainly wouldn’t have guessed magic. That stuff wasn’t real. It was just something he would read about in his ridiculous books, repeating the phrases just to piss off his bunkmates. That being said, when fire appeared out of thin air, he figured it was time to reevaluate a few things        mainly how he spent his days. The warlock would avoid his studies, focusing entirely on the magic he then possessed, using it to trick the other orphans who pissed him off. Eventually it became too much and Father Alec couldn’t help him anymore. Sawyer the Spectacular was gone, his bed empty before anyone knew any different.

After years of conning random strangers, he unintentionally came across a coven. They were furious at his multiple thefts, but undeniably impressed in his ability to create illusions. He had no idea that certain warlocks had different expanded powers, his own proving to be both terrifying and awe-inspiring. He was told that if he worked hard enough, and if he wrote the proper spells, he could do almost anything. This was a terrible thing to say to a con artist, especially since his desire for more was always present, and always nipping.  Cue New Orleans; the perfect place to master one’s abilities, they say. Well if it wasn’t his greed that was going to get him killed, then it would be surely be his curiosity. 


Sawyer is a bit of a cynic. He is under the impression that the only person you can trust is yourself and, as a result, he finds very little use in helping others. He has an unfortunate habit of backstabbing those who trust him, convincing people of his worth by exploiting his alluring charm and humor. While he is impressive with his jerk qualities, he has the makings of a good man (very anti-hero-esque). Father Alec was right, after all. Everyone deserves a chance. On the side of his interests, he is known to get obsessive about certain things. There is almost a twisted sense of excitement that can be seen from his eyes whenever he has something in mind, not unlike a childish form of enthusiasm.

face claim ; Noah Centineo


AU - The Ones That Could Have Been Endgame

1. Chandler & Rachel, FRIENDS

Originally posted by chanchanman-fan

2. Kate & Sawyer, LOST

Originally posted by cdp97-blog-blog

3. Jasper & Octavia, THE 100

Originally posted by jactaviaa

4. Rikki & Zane, H2O

Originally posted by princessofpoldark

5. Alex & Meredith, GREY’S ANATOMY

Originally posted by bethylinfinity

Another Sawyer story for y’all.

I hadn’t seen her all week because I had been sick and yesterday when I walked into the yard she whinnied when she saw me and kept nickering even when I went into the stable and when I was scratching her and hugging her she started licking and like I guess grooming? at my shoulders and my back. She watched me all day like only going back into her stable for a bite of hay and straight back out over the door and she was nickering and whinnying at me literally all day😭 She also licked me in the face twice like dogs do when I was standing outside her stable at one point and it was gross but adorable lmao

Rom 1:19-20: “For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.”

Wow, @playchoices thank u👍

anonymous asked:

Since im self indulgent have some crime sorciere hcs- jellal is a panace gay demiboy, Meredy is a trans ace lesbian, Ultear is a nonbinary wlw, Sorano is aropan, Sawyer is repulsed aroace, Richard is gay, Midnight is genderfluid and bi aroace and erik is a transman and grayromantic panace! Hope u like them.

Originally posted by black-jackal-on-blog

grosswriter  asked:

Prompt: someone doesn't realize the punch at a party is spiked with alcohol and drinks more than they're used to, leaving them in the bathroom throwing up juice for the rest of the night

Nov(emeto)ber Day 8: Party Pooper


Warning(s): alcohol usage, brief mentions of vomit

In his defense, Alex hadn’t known it was going to be that kind of party. He guessed he’d been expecting a lot less from a group of college-level professors.

It was a themed party, where all the food and beverages were reminiscent of children’s books. Cookies that looked like green eggs and ham, fruit kabobs that resembled caterpillars, and giant peach parfaits were just some of the more popular dishes.

With almost everything being desserts, Sawyer felt like he was in heaven. At first he’d been hesitant to accept Alex’s invitation to a party with a bunch of strangers, but Alex has managed to convince him anyway.

Sawyer’s favorite by far was the fruit punch. Fluorescent green with a light foam on the top, the drink was supposed to be reminiscent of some kind of magic potion. It was too delicious for Sawyer to ponder over it much more than that.

It was after he saw Sawyer with his fifth cup of punch that Alex began to grow suspicious. Sawyer was in a good mood, too good of a mood given how he usually felt about being forced to interact with this many unknown people.

He giggled at everything and he was more than a little eager to let others know what he thought of their desserts. He also seemed dazed at times, which was concerning.

“You really like that stuff, huh?” Alex asked, watching as Sawyer filled up another cup.

Sawyer nodded, smiling. He seemed sleepy, his cheeks flushed. “Uh huh. The foam tickles.”

“Mind if I try?” Before Sawyer could answer, Alex took the cup from his hand, tipping it back and taking a sip. He sputtered, choking. “Sawyer! This drink is full of alcohol.”

Alex wasn’t try to scold his boyfriend, but Sawyer almost never drank. He always found the taste of alcohol too bitter for his liking. Not to mention, he was a huge lightweight.

Sawyer nodded. “I know…”

“You did?”

This time, Sawyer shook his head, swallowing thickly. He looked a little shaken. “I don’t feel very good anymore.”

Ahhh. Alex understood now. Sawyer hadn’t known about the alcohol, and it seemed to be catching up to him at that exact moment.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said placatingly. He wondered if Sawyer was drunk enough to keep the panic at bay. He’d rather not find out, but he also knew that wasn’t likely to happen. “Let’s get you to the bathroom. It’ll be quieter in there.”

Sawyer let himself be led into the nearest bathroom. He kneeled down in front of the toilet, while Alex sat on the lip of the tub, holding his hair back and cursing himself for not realizing what was happening sooner.

After spitting and drooling into the water for several minutes, Sawyer retched loudly, his hands tightening around the edge of the bowl. For a moment, nothing happened and Alex was hopeful they’d end this night completely unscathed.

But then Sawyer released a sour burp, and with it a fountain of sick. He heaved effortlessly, his vomit staining the water green. When all the liquid was gone, and that took several large waves, the remnants of snacks and pastries began to reappear, making each retch more violent and painful sounding than the last.

Alex saw the tears running down Sawyer’s face and be rubbed his back and tried to be supportive. He wasn’t entirely sure the tears weren’t from exertion and worried Sawyer might be getting himself worked up over being sick.

Somehow they avoided a meltdown, and by the time Sawyer was completely empty, he was absolutely exhausted. He leaned back into Alex’s arms, shaking and sniffling, a few tears still rolling silently down his cheeks.

Alex wanted to tell Sawyer that he was proud of him for keeping it together, but thought maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. After all, Sawyer couldn’t help how he felt about vomiting, and maybe this time the panic had been dampened by spiked punch.

“I love you,” he said instead, running his palm in smooth arcs across Sawyer’s back. He flushed away the mess of sick and told himself to grab Sawyer some water on the way out. “Are you ready to head home?”

Sawyer nodded, his voice small when he spoke. “Please,” he whispered.