grateful head

2

The Baudelaire’s refusal to be grateful for their unfortunate events seemed like such a good message for kids - so I made a thing.

This Day in 1D History - September 1

2011: 

  • *CUE THE MARIACHI BAND* (lmaooo)

2013: 

  • Dominos UK stops their mozzarella dippers—and Louis puts them on notice 

2014: 

  • You & I Fragrance BTS posted <33
  • “I was probably quite an annoying teenager” (@ Cosmo UK)

2015: 

  • Louis cuddles a fan backstage before the show <33
  • On the Road Again Tour concert—Philadelphia, USA, feat. FRESH PRINCE!! 

2016: 

  • Toyota blesses us with yet another Vios ad 
  • Niall makes a bid for fandom boyfriend keeping us all posted :))
  • That’s a wrap! – Production wraps on Dunkirk in LA!

It seemed just your luck to have rented an apartment directly above a group of cultists.  

You’ve lost count of hearing their inane, rhythmic chanting below your floorboards and the faint flicker of candles around an elaborate chalk circle. You’ve complained numerous times before, but every time they’ve greeted you at the doorway in their draping red hoods, solemn-faced and muttering about bringing the ‘Great Old Ones’ back.  

For all the macabre airs that surrounded the place, the rent was cheap. Impossibly cheap. At first, you had been elated by such a turn of luck after you’d been so suddenly thrust into the adult world with both a job and school to juggle, but by now you knew why tenancy changed so quickly. But there was no way you’d be able to find another apartment this cheap. So you just tried to ignore the strangeness that lingered around you by immersing yourself in the real world outside your door, silently dreading the moments where you would have to return home.  Any other person would have turned heels long ago, but you’re just too stubborn to leave. It’s your home. You feel a sense of protective belonging over it, almost as if it’s your responsibility. 

You’ve come to expect the unusual from your living circumstances.  

     However, what you would have never expected would be a loud, unearthly rumbling that would send you sprawling to the ground, where the muted screams of cultists to waver up through the cracks in the floorboards. 

After the initial shock, apathy and exasperation set in. 

Damn it. After so many failed rituals and chants, so many nights spent reading spells from mind-destroying ancient tomes, they’ve actually done it. 

Well, at least you won’t have to deal with your downstairs neighbors anymore, you remind yourself hopefully. 

The journey down the stairs is a dark, tepid one where you blindly grope the spiraling banister, feeling as if something is just going to jump out at you like a overused horror movie cliche. Even though you try and convince yourself otherwise- damn it, you’re an adult, you shouldn’t be afraid of these things- the fear till lingers. 

The first thing you notice is the immense heat that blasts onto your face, sending trails of condensation down your already pale brow. It’ unusual because their heat is turned off all the time, even in the depths of winter. The only heat source down there is candlelight for when they carry out their unearthly rituals. But now it feels like you’re in the boiler room of the apartment block, walls almost scalding to touch. 

A smeared chalk pentacle glimmers in the shivering light of a single candle in the center of the room, it’s siblings long since extinguished. Everything in the room is scattered and overturned, the wooden floorboards blackened, but curiously not burnt. It’s as if some massive, invisible explosion has take place. The musty air is already making you nervous- something lingers in it, something that you already have the sense to know is not of this earth, that every cell i your body screams to get out of. There’s no trace of your neighbors anywhere. But you can’t help but feel as if you’re not alone, as if something is watching you from the shadows.

Maturity tells you to call the police. But you’ve tried that in the past, and nothing has ever really come from it. And if you tried describing what was down here, you were sure that they would hang up on you as a prank call. 

There’s a patter of movement from behind you. Noticing something sharp glinting from across the floor, you scrabble down to grab it, to try and protect yourself.

There’s a low clicking growl from the darkness. You feel ready to pass out from fear at any moment. You grip the knife shakily in your hand, but somehow feel even more helpless. Even when shrouded in darkness, you know that you’re powerless against whatever faces you. 

      With a shrieking cackle, something massive launches itself from the darkness with flashing white eyes and a fanged mouth trailing viscous saliva. You wait for death, but find it curiously absent. You look down to see the thing feeding on something else, and yourself completely unharmed. 

It’s a massive mass of pulsating tentacles from the waist down, slithering across the floor on them like some giant demented octopus. Above, it’s a bony white mockery of the human form, scales trailing down it’s spiky spine. Seeing it’s arms flex as it tears into it’s meal, it’s a lot more muscular than you thought. Around it’s head, you see a familiar robed hand, half-clutching a hammer. A hand that belonged to someone, one of the cultists, who was going to bring it down on you and use you as a human sacrifice. 

With a dawning shock, you realize that whatever this thing is, it just saved you. 

You move hesitantly towards it and it’s head whips around, glowing eyes burning right into your rigid form. It looks at you in a way you’ve never seen anyone look at you before, so intently, so longingly. It softens you to sympathy towards it, instead of screaming at the sight of it. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out.

You cringe at how ridiculous you must sound. You don’t even know if it can understand what you’re even saying, or if you’re really just the light snack for it after the heavy dinner of loyal cultists. Much to your surprise, it understands. A low longing growl coils out from it’s throat. It’s not even human, but you somehow feel closer to it than you’ve ever felt to any fellow member of your species. There’s more than that. You see it in it’s whole stance, aching familiar- it’s lonely.

Lonely- just like you. 

Overwhelmed by the situation, you make a quick run for upstairs. But as you’re midway up the staircase, you hear a low squelching sound. Whatever it is, it’s not about to leave you. 

     That evening was how you found yourself saddled with an unusual new roommate. He didn’t have an exact name, well at least not in human language. The most you had gotten out of him was a high-pitched series of clicks and ear-splitting squeals. 

Despite all odds, you two had somehow become amicable. True, he practically ate you out of house and home, but he was always there to listen to your day and silently comfort you from your stresses, wrapping his tentacles around you in a slimy hug. 

There were the few annoyances- while most roommates had to deal with their stuff being borrowed without permission, or not doing chores, you had to stop yours from eating neighborhood cats. 

It was nice having someone to come home to- even if that someone was actually something that was from another dimension all together. It was still nice.

Still, the memory of that night played on your mind- why had he saved you from becoming a sacrifice? Why hadn’t he just devoured you like he had with everyone else?

You sat half-curled up on the couch, a stack of junk food seated in your lap, more for him than it is for you. Beside you was your laptop. If there was anything that you loved about the new routine, it was movie night. It was a night where you could just lose yourself and forget the stresses of the world. You were so used to watching movies alone, but now you had someone else to enjoy them with. 

And you had to admit,  it was oddly endearing to see a tentacled, eldritch beast enjoy watching animated children’s movies. He shifted beside you, clawed hands shifting against the fabric of the duvet you’d put over to protect the couch from further damage. He was enraptured by the screen, toothy mouthed stretched into a wide grin. He loved movie night just as much as you did, already devouring half the stack of snacks. But you don’t mind.

Somehow you didn’t focus on the movie like you thought you would. Your mind slipped away from the action onscreen, becoming more wistful. You kept thinking about that night, about the ritual gone wrong. 

“Hey,” you suddenly remarked, “I just realized something.” 

His head instantly whipped around from the bright illumination of the screen within the dimmed room. 

“Mrnnnh?” came his curious growl. 

You suppressed a laugh at how truly catlike this hideous, tentacled monstrosity could be. 

“Two months since we met, and we moved in. I think it calls for some kind of celebration.” 

You paused. 

“I’ve…I’ve just been thinking…” 

He leaned in, both curious and concerned, sensing your obvious hesitancy. You force yourself to exhale. 

“That night…what was it about me? Everyone else…you devoured. But you left me alive. You saved me. Why? Why me?” 

The creature goes quiet. You already feel as if you’ve made a terrible mistake and feel like gingerly trying to switch the topic of conversation. But he shifts over the couch, slightly creaking it with his own immense stature.

“I…wanted to devour…wanted to devour everyone…but…” he growls in a deep, grating tone. 

His head tilts downwards towards you, making you feel absolutely tiny in the shadow of his presence. 

“…I… don’t want to eat…you. You…not meat to me.” 

He pauses for a minute, as if struggling what to say. 

”You…mean..more…to me…than…just meat.” 

You’re so shocked by the brevity of his words that it only dawns on you a few minutes later that it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him speak human words.

Squeezing back the few tears that brim within the glassy corners of your eyes, you draw close to him, allowing yourself to be embraced by his long arms. His touch is almost crushing, you know if he really tried, he could rip you apart, but you feel nothing but comfort. 

“Thank you.” you murmured softly. 

Your monster smiles down at you, revealing an array of sharp teeth, arranged in a welcoming, loving smile. 

2

come home // theo raeken

summary ; in which no one else seems to notice that y/n’s been struggling immensely since the demise of theo raeken, except liam. and so, liam can’t help but go against the rest of the pack to make you happy once more. [300317]

warnings ; death (kind of), sadness, angst, season 6a spoilers

word count ; 1.7k

masterlist

stay safe + ily🍃

You still remember how it happened, clear as day. 

You remember running as fast as you possibly could down those dark tunnels; you remember your shoes slapping against the damp ground loudly as panicked breaths left your lips and tears stung your waterline, threatening to fall. You remember catching up with the rest of your so-called ‘pack’ as they all stood in a circle, determined looks etched into their faces. 

You remember being too late. 

You remember hearing Kira’s cold words. “The Skinwalkers have a message for you, Theo. Your sister wants to see you.“ 

You remember watching her wield her katana as you rushed past the others and stopped short in front of the angered kitsune. "No! Kira, please!” You remember shouting, your voice laced with desperation as Theo glanced your way, his eyes filled with unmistakable panic and fear. 

“(Y/N)…” The whispered words escaped past his lips as he attempted to take a few steps toward you, the girl he loved, but came to a hesitant halt when Liam and Scott bared their teeth and growled at him from directly behind your shaking body. 

You remember Scott grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back as you begged your friends not to do what you knew they were about to. The feeling of complete dread filled you when they continued to ignore your screams, the heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as you struggled to escape from the True Alpha’s grip. "Please! Don’t do this! Kira!“ You cried out, your heart pounding in your chest as alarm increasingly flared up inside of you. 

“It’s for the best, (Y/N),” Scott’s voice rang through your ears as he held your fighting body tightly against himself. 

“No! Please! I-I love him,” You rasped out, your cries dying down when you looked at your boyfriend. His wide eyes were glued to you, those three words had sprung the sudden feeling of regret for all he had done to put him in this final position onto him as it ran through his veins and he watched the tears fall from your beautiful eyes. If he hadn’t acted the way he did to the rest of the pack, he wouldn’t be about to lose you. But he couldn’t change that now, he reminded himself harshly.

You remember being too late. 

Kira’s sword had already come into contact with the ground by the time you finished your confession, a harsh glare in her glowing eyes. The wet, paved stones cracking and rumbling under your feet. You remember the floor caving in, Theo’s sister crawling her way up from under the rubble, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched her with wide, frozen eyes snatch his legs with her hands, yanking him to the cold, hard ground. 

“(Y/N)! Help me! Please!” His distraught voice echoed through your head and shook your body to the core. 

“Theo!” You remember the sobs that racked through your body and the way that your chest heaved heavily as you tried so hard to get past Scott’s hold on you, as you tried so hard to save the only person who’s ever really loved you. You remember hearing his pleas and watching as his grip on the edge of the ground slipped, and he fell into the epitome of his own hell.

“No!” You remember the scream that erupted from you, your vision blurred with tears and your chest tight with the pain and the loss. Scott let go of you and you immediately scrambled to the giant, gaping hole in the stone, gasping breaths leaving your parted lips hysterically.

You remember being too late. 

The ground swallowed him up just as quick and magically, it was whole again. No cracks, no rubble, no flaws. You remember feeling numb. Your wide eyes locked onto the ground as your knees gave way, leading you to land upon the cold concrete where the boy you loved had just been taken from you. 

– 

You had decided to split away from the pack when the sun rose the very next day. There was a hole, a darkness, a void, in your chest where something was missing, from where Theo was missing… That darkness hadn’t been picked up by light, not even months down the line. It hadn’t changed. 

You hadn’t spoken to anyone; you had barely left the house. You rarely ate, your once glowing skin, now a sickly pale. Your parents were incredibly worried; they knew about the supernatural and the fact that your boyfriend was a creature of the night. 

They knew that he had betrayed the pack a few times but they had regularly seen you and him cuddled close together in your room, his fingers softly running through your hair, your head gently rested on his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around your body as you both gazed at the tv, a comfortable silence filling the room; they knew that he would never hurt you. They knew how much Theo meant to you and vice versa.

Now, everything felt wrong. 

You were convinced that none of the pack had noticed your absence at school, even though your leave was extremely abrupt. They all assumed that you were grieving and that you would need time and space to heal and so they left you alone. 

Liam noticed more than anyone, however. Ever since he moved to Beacon Hills, there had been no one who was more welcoming and supportive of him than you and he would never forget that. You two had been good friends all throughout his time in that county and he hated not being able to see you but still knowing how heartbroken you were over the pack’s rash decisions.

So, he decided to do something about it. Getting in touch with the Celestial kitsune, Noshiko Yukimura, had been easy. But, convincing her to come back to Beacon Hills for the sole purpose of her delivering Kira’s katana to them had been slightly more difficult but doable after some pleads, nonetheless.

Back again, you thought begrudgingly. The underground tunnels seeming even darker and even damper than the last time you were here. The last time you were here.The last time you were here, you lost Theo. 

You folded your arms across your body, shivering as the cool breeze of the evening flowed throughout the maze of tunnels. All the bad memories resurfacing against your will as you stood opposite Liam and Hayden, in the exact area in which you saw your boyfriend get dragged down to his personal hell. 

“What are we doing here, Liam?” Your voice was small and quiet as you glanced around at your dank surroundings, tightening your grip on yourself as if you were attempting to comfort and shield yourself from the nightmares those tunnels bring.

Liam let out a steady huff of air, his eyes flickering to Hayden’s and then back to yours as he brought his hand out from behind his back. Your breath got caught in your throat and as you stared at the item he beheld. Kira’s sword. “W-what?” You stuttered out roughly, your heart hammering in your chest as you took a step closer to your friends. 

“Use it,” His demand was soft and kind as he reached his arm out towards you. You let out an inevitable breath of chilled air before reaching out with shaky hands, grasping the grip of the sword in your fingers.

You looked up at Liam with teary eyes before throwing your free arm around his torso and bringing him into a long overdue hug. His arms went around your shoulders and you muttered out a quiet and muffled but appreciative, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” You pulled away and gave a grateful nod of your head Hayden’s way as the two of you barely knew each other; she returned it with a small, happy, smile written on her lips.

You turned away from the two, sighing shakily as you readily positioned the sword above the ground. Not even hesitating once as you lifted the katana up before swinging it back down onto the concrete with as much strength as you could muster.

The ground did as it did before, cracking and crumbling, giving away to create the same wide and immense hole. The stone explodes as a clawed hand shoots up and into the air; a gasp tumbled from your lips as you watched Theo painfully slowly clamber his way out of the rubble and onto safe ground.

“T-Theo?” Your voice seemed to get lost in the cool wind when your glistening eyes connected with his vibrant and glowing, golden ones. Low growls emitted past his sharp canines until his eyes locked onto your frozen body, and his breath gets caught. The gold in his iris’ slowly fading out until the soft hazel colour that you fell in love with is restored. 

“(Y/N)…” He breathed out, his voice hoarse as he took a few steps towards you. Kira’s sword fell out of your grip and clattered onto the floor, the noise echoing and bouncing off the walls of the tunnels but you didn’t notice as your legs carry you as fast as they could back into his warm arms.

Tears that had been collecting on your waterline slowly made their trek down your rosy cheeks as his arms tightly wrap around your waist and his head settles in the crook of your neck. The sadness that had been sitting on your shoulders and weighing you down ever since he was taken away from you, dissipated into thin air and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief because of it. 

Then, you felt his tears on the skin of your slightly exposed collarbone and heard the almost inaudible sound of his sniffles, so you hugged him tighter and ran your fingers through his messy, dark hair. “I-I love you too,” You could only just make out his hushed and muffled words through your elated cries of happiness but your heart swelled when they ring through your ears, like music.


request

Hard Times

Request: Peter Parker x Reader where the reader gets kidnapped for leverage and gets tortured but Peter comes to save her.

Warnings: Language, depiction of violence/torture?

Word Count: 1068

A/N: Written in Peter’s POV || This made me super emo but I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!! Also, SUPER SORRY that it took me so long, I had writer’s block for Peter but now I’ve come through! @painting-tragedies

Originally posted by buckybarnres

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anonymous asked:

Dude. I have seen lance and keith fall in love thousands and thousands of times by the hands of thousands of artists and authors. And yet you still manage to make Voltron and klance as exciting as the first time I watched/saw it. You breathe new life into tired concepts, and I will NEVER get bored of your fantastic, wild creativity. Thank you so much.

UGH this message just. This is one of the most…well-said compliments I’ve ever gotten? I’ve been frickin reeling because of this my friend. It’s been sitting in my inbox because I genuinely did not know how to answer it. When I first read it I sent a screencap to my friends in seconds because I was so shocked??? that someone would say something so beautiful about my art???

This is literally everything I strive for as an artist (which sounds kinda extreme but it’s TRUE). So, honestly, it’s so overwhelming (in the best way) to read this, and I can’t convey to you how important it is to me. 

Thank /you/ for being an amazingly kind person and sending this message. Please have a great weekend. I’m gonna go cry in the tags…goodbye…

Teacher, Teacher | Min Yoongi - Part 1

Originally posted by jeonbase

Summary: Being a teacher is not one of the most exciting jobs, especially Kindergarten. But one kid and one father seem to change that.
Genre: Fluff + Slight angst in the future + Mafia!AU
Word Count: 2,994


“Ah, Yoona, please sit still,” Yoongi said, trying to calm the jittery girl in his arms before he somehow ripped out half her hair. He was trying to do her hair, since it was her first day of Kindergarten and all. Yoongi was trying his all out best, but his efforts didn’t seem like they were working. Her hair kept falling out of the ponytail holder, or he finally got it into a bun but it was too loose. All he was supposed to do was put her hair in a bun, but it did not turn out the way he wanted it to.

“I’m sorry sweety, daddy tried his best, but it still doesn’t look right,” Yoongi said with a slight sigh, letting his hand with the brush fall to his side. He really didn’t want to let her down, but he was getting frustrated and didn’t want to take it out on his little girl. He took the ponytail holder out and let her hair fall down to her shoulders when she jumped off the chair she was in.

“It’s ok, daddy!” she said, turning around and facing him. “You tried your best, I like my hair down just fine,” taking the brush and brushing her hair, she smiled up at him. The one thing Yoongi always wanted to do was have his daughter smile, and if she was happy, so was he. Putting all the supplies away, he came back and clapped his hands gaining his daughter’s attention.

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Don’t Hide From Me.

Josh Dun x Reader

AN: Soulmate AU which coincides with a request by anon. Surprised myself by finishing it in one sitting. It’s a little long, but any shorter and I don’t think I would have done it justice. 

Warnings: Some cursing, light drinking, little bit of angst but nothing major.

(Not my image)

“That’s um…”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

I groaned and plopped myself next to Jenna, holding my right arm and looking at all the colors on it. 

“What am I going to do Jenna? This soulmark is ridiculous. Have you ever heard of anyone having a whole sleeve as a soulmark?” 

Jenna tilted her head, a blonde strand falling from her bun. “I mean, mine could be considered a sleeve too.” She shrugged. 

“Right, yes, but, those are just black bands. Mine is a giant fucking tree and some space stuff and a sunset or something. My entire arm is covered. What was my soulmate thinking when they chose this?” I yanked my sleeve down, covering the soulmark, before burying my face in my hands. Jenna patted my back comfortingly. 

“He was probably thinking that it was beautiful, and that it would help him find you easier.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “I shouldn’t say he. Could be a girl for all I know. Or a they.”

I chuckled, placing my head on her shoulder. “Well, whoever they are, they’re much more flamboyant than me. When was the last time you saw me wear color?”

This time Jenna laughed, like bells ringing around my room. “Black is a color.”

I snorted. “I don’t know Jenna, this just makes me insecure. I feel like it’s going to draw in a bunch of attention from the kids at school, and I don’t want that.” I glanced at my arm again, staring at the fabric of my black hoodie. “Maybe I should keep it covered.” 

Jenna’s face scrunched up in concern. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t that hurt your soulmate’s feelings? They chose that specifically Y/N.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “I know, but it’s just not me. Maybe their choice showed up on the wrong person? Can that happen?” 

“I’ve never heard of that before. Look, they’re your soulmate, even if they’re different from you, there’s still a reason that the universe is trying to bring you together. My soulmark isn’t really my thing either, but if it brings me closer to them, that’s all I care about.” 

“You’re right.”

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