monster in your closet

dude so like

best method for getting rid of monsters i’ve seen bro

get a spray bottle and put some water and a little bit of rose water/your favorite essential oil/maybe some baby oil in it and like, maybe a little glitter (something fine enough to go through the sprayer of course). shake it up real nice.

boom. monster repellent. 

monsters hate that stuff, dude. legit. spray that on your bed, closet, scary corners, etc and the monsters will skedaddle so quick AND your bed will smell pretty and be sparkly. c:

hope this saves your night without your cg.

Disney (and Some Pixar) Movie Asks

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves: Have you ever stayed in a strangers house before? If yes, why? 

Pinocchio: What’s the biggest lie you’ve told that no one knows about? 

Dumbo: Have you ever been to a circus or fair? 

Cinderella: Do you have any family members who you really don’t get along with? 

Peter Pan: If you stopped aging right now, what could you do for the rest of your life? Would you want to stop aging? 

Sleeping Beauty: What’s the last dream you remember having? 

One Hundred and One Dalmatians: How many pets do you have, what are they, and what are their names? 

Robin Hood: Do you believe in the idea of taking from the rich and giving to the poor? Why or why not? 

The Fox and the Hound: Who is your best friend? 

The Little Mermaid: If you could have anything you wanted in exchange for one of your talents, which talent would you give up and what would you give it up for? 

Beauty and the Beast: What is your favorite book/book series? 

Aladdin: Could you give up your happiness for someone else’s? 

Nightmare Before Christmas: If you could reinvent a holiday, which one would you remake and how? 

The Lion King: Have you ever lost someone important to you? 

A Goofy Movie: What was your favorite family vacation and why? 

Pocahontas: What do you think it means to sing with all the voices of the mountains and paint with all the colors of the wind? 

Toy Story: If your toys came to life, what things could they hold over you and blackmail you with? 

Hercules: If you were a god or goddess, what would your powers include? 

Mulan: What are your opinions on gendered products? 

Tarzan: Do you believe that animals are capable of “human” emotion? 

The Emperor’s New Groove: Have you ever changed your views because you were in the wrong? 

Atlantis: What are you passionate about? 

Monsters Inc: Did you believe there were monsters in your closet when you were a kid? 

Lilo and Stitch: What is your relationship with your sibling’s like? If you don’t have any, would you rather have an older or younger sibling and why? 

Finding Nemo: Do you think parents should allow their children freedom after a certain age? 

Brother Bear: If you could become any animal, which would you choose? 

Meet the Robinsons: Who do you consider “family?”

Tinkerbell: Have you ever tried to be someone you’re not for the sake of fitting in? 

Bolt: How far would you go for someone you cared about? 

The Princess and the Frog: If you dug a little deeper, what would be your ultimate goal in life, provided income wasn’t an issue? 

Tangled: Could you sacrifice yourself for someone you barely knew? 

Wreck-It Ralph: What’s your favorite video game? 

Frozen: Do you believe in love at first sight? 

Big Hero Six: If you could be any superhero, who would you be and why? 

Inside Out: Which of your emotions do you think controls your brain most often? 

Zootopia: Have you ever experienced discrimination first-hand? 

Manspreading (Part 3)


Word Count: 9k

Summary:
  “Don’t bring the dog into this. He’s young and he doesn’t need this kind of stuff pushed on him. He’ll grow up to have issues.” 

“Very funny, Tae. You’re a real funny guy. You know what else is funny? Your chances of sleeping in the same bed as me this month.”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Epilogue

It wasn’t at all unusual for you to wake up smothered by the sixty-two kilograms of pure heat and clinginess that was Kim Taehyung. What was unusual however was how inappropriately naked the both of you were at the moment, and the suspiciously hard thing pressing against your side.

You’ve been awake for a good while now having an internal breakdown and devising increasingly elaborate plans to get yourself out of Taehyung’s loving death-grip. You wonder if you could slip out of his arms for a quick reprieve in the shower before you have to really face him, because right now you couldn’t think very clearly when he was so close to you and his addicting scent was bombarding your brain. He was always a heavy sleeper, and you figured you had a fairly good chance of slipping away without waking him up. When your eyes opened up and met his entirely too awake ones, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

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yoredrobin  asked:

spill the tea, what's been going on?

About Kathleen Fuckadizzle? Okay here we go, heres a list of what everyone including myself is pissed about:

1) Her constant casting of white Brunette females, nothing against Felicity and Daisy they are great, but Emilina Clark is too much. Had it not been for Kelly Marie Tran, we would have gotten a fourth. It’s not only a problem to POC women who want to see themselves but to Jewish Women like me. Both Carrie Fisher and Natalie Portman are Ethnic Jewis and often group the two in the White Brunette Flock. It’s important to me because Natalie had long natural Curly hair in the movies and Carrie in her late fifties had the body of a Jewish woman that is often shamed. So thanks to Kathleen many people forget two Jewish Women were senators and Queens and fought Nazis.

2) Ive been reading about Kathleen and John Boyega, and aparently Kathleen has it out for John Boyega. She didnt want him because she imagine Finn to be white, and treated John like Garbage at SWCO. Honestly though, why would anyone hate John Boyega? He loves his cat and dresses as Kylo Ren, really…you’re an idiot for hating him.

3) I am not a stormpilot fan, mostly because of my alliegence to Finnrey and I got  Biphobic comments from quite a few of them when I shipped Poe with a woman and EXPLICITLY said Poe was also interested in Men and a handful only slightly consider the possiblity of Poe being Bi which makes me the Bisexual upset. But I could see how it’s upsetting to them. Apparently she laughed at the possibility of Stormpilot. Which is gross

4) What really made me hate this stupid woman was the way she treated Carrie Fisher’s family. So apparently Todd signed over the rights to have Carrie’s image in Episode 9 through old clips and he was really happy about that and as were fans that they get to see Carrie Fisher one last time in Star Wars. The next week at SWCO, she makes this crass comment that “He misconstrued her words.” Okay look if she said “I apologize to Todd Fisher, this is a terrible time for him I understand if he got his hopes up but unfortunately we cannot use a present Leia in episode 9 but we will find a way to use her old clips in flashbacks.” But nope, She made a man in mourning for his sister and mother at the same time look like a fucking idiot. Which not only disrespects Todd, but also Billie and EVEN Carrie herself. Basically she is using a dead woman to get more cash.

So that is a summary why Kathleen Kennedy is a horrible human being who hates Diversity and who might as well spat on Carrie and Debbie’s grave because of her disregard to a woman who worked her ass off to make her fans happy.

TL;DR: Kathleen Kennedy is basically the female Donald Trump of Lucasfilm, except she has hair and slightly less mysgonic.

Love the creature that holds your hand in the dead of night to keep away the darkness. There are monsters that lurk in the shadows, very dark, evil ones that use night to prey on the innocent. But this creature, with eyes like a cat and claws like a bear, gently grips your hand as you sleep. Its skin is soft like valet but cold like ice, but you can feel its heart beat through its hand as it guides you, protects you from the monsters that peek through your closets and slide through the cracks in your floor. It has neither name nor memories, but it knows that it loves you and wishes to see you protected and safe always. 

this is the thing no one tells you about monsters
about real monsters
they don’t lurk in your closet
or hide under your bed
but they still manage to come out of the shadows when you least expect them to
they don’t live in darkness
they don’t thrive in the nighttime
real monsters walk around in broad daylight
unaffected by the burn of the sun
they don’t need to hide in the shadows
they stalk
and they prey
while it’s still light out
so they can see you better

no one tells you that real monsters don’t look like monsters
because their fangs are hidden behind soft smiles
and their claws are hidden behind warm touches
real monsters hide behind bright eyes
and dimples
and messy hair
real monsters look like the boy you’ve known since second grade
real monsters look like your neighbor who greets you on your way to school every morning
real monsters look like your babysitter
real monsters look like police officers
real monsters look like someone you should have been able to trust
they look like someone you did trust once
they look like someone who broke that trust the same way they broke you

real monsters will rip you to shreds with the same hand that once held yours
real monsters will smother you with the same arms that once hugged you
real monsters will sink their teeth into you and suck all of your blood out of your body until there is nothing left
until you are nothing
and they will leave you rotting on the floor
knowing that no one will come to help
they will watch you die
watch as they slowly kill you
they will cover your corpse with traces of them that only you can see
so you can never prove that they killed you in the first place
real monsters are not convicted
real monsters are never convicted
real monsters will convince a jury that they did nothing wrong
real monsters will smile as the judge says “not guilty”
knowing that those two words killed you even more than they ever could
real monsters roam the streets knowing that they have won
knowing that they will see the inside of you once again before they ever see the inside of a jail cell
real monsters are so scary that they make you wish the boogeyman really did live under your bed
instead of right down the hall
—  m o n s t e r s
(cc, 2017)
Many Things - Part 1

There’s more to this, but in the name of getting something up in time for Mother’s Day in the USA, here’s part one. May the day treat you well regardless of your status with mother’s or as a mother. This part is Rated K but rating will be at least an M at some point. I’ll be sure to rate each section as I get it posted. This is completely unbeta’d so if it’s crappy or riddled with mistakes, it’s all on me.


With a hefty sigh, Katniss falls back onto the bed and doesn’t move. She lays there with eyes shut, listening to the silence of the house and enjoying the peace for just a moment. There are dishes from dinner still piled in the sink, needing to be washed. A basket full of jumbled up laundry that she would need to fold and sort, unless she could convince Peeta to do that for her. Convincing usually doesn’t take much work since her husband is often eager to help in any way he can. She just feels guilty begging help from him late at night like this when he has to be up early to make it to the bakery in time to finish prep and open.

The bed dips beside her and hands cradle her head, lifting and placing her head carefully in his lap as she smiles faintly. Peeta’s fingers unwind the tie holding her hair in place and then her braid, which is probably a mess by now. She tugs self-consciously in her shirt, briefly hoping her mommy rolls aren’t on display before his fingers comb through her tresses with almost immediate effect. She hums contentedly, encouraging him to continue.

“I could draw you a bath,” he offers and she shakes her head.

“This is nice for now. And I’ve got dishes to wash.”

“I’ll wash the dishes,” he offers automatically.

“Laundry to fold,” she murmurs as she sinks into the warmth of his touch and the tingling in her scalp that his attention to her hair causes. She thinks back to a time when they would sit by the lake for hours, just like this, with Peeta playing with her tresses and Katniss soaking up sunshine and happiness like a pampered cat. Now they’re lucky to find a few minutes like this to themselves.

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listen, son. if there was really a monster in your closet this would be a huge new discovery. honestly you getting mauled would be pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things if you think about it

  • Jack: Sam can I sleep in your room?
  • Sam: Sure Jack. Is there something wrong with yours? Monsters in the closet again?
  • Jack: No, no skin changers got in today. It's just-
  • Sam: What?
  • Jack: Dean and Cas are praying really loudly and I can't sleep
  • Sam: Praying?!
  • Jack: Yeah, all I can hear is 'Oh God. Oh God. Yes God!'. It's really distracting
  • Sam: I NEED to talk to them in the morning
  • Jack: They must be really out of shape too. Who gets that worn out praying?
  • Sam: Um....just come in Jack and stop talking
  • Jack: And then Castiel must have got annoyed with the praying too because he's all 'Stop saying GOD!'
  • Sam: Jack please
  • Jack: And then Dean was all 'Make me'
  • Sam: Jack stop!
  • Jack: What?
  • Sam: I don't need to hear about the monsters in the CLOSET
  • Jack: I don't get it??
Curfew

Request: Hey! I love the new list! Can I ask for 13 and 8, with Kihyun? Thanks for your great job!!!!

8) “Put your pants on.”

13) Your bias sneaks into your window

Member: Monsta X Kihyun x Y/N

Type: Fluff


You rolled over onto your stomach and sighed, enjoying the brief moment of peace and quiet in your dorm. You had been with Starship for a few years now, your debut date on the horizon. You shared a room with two other soon to be debuted trainees, both of them stuck recording in the studio, while your other members were either asleep or practicing. You buried your face into your pillow and let out a soft groan. Everything hurt. 

Training to be an idol wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was long days and even longer nights, full of sore bones and muscles. Your throat always hurt, but you easily forgot it because your legs had long since gone numb. You hissed as you rolled over to your side, pulling up halfheartedly at your window pane to leave a crack between the sill and the glass. 

One of the more charming facets of being a trainee was getting a dorm that was not yet blessed with central air. You had a cooling system, and it was called mother nature. More often than not, if you were in your bedroom, it meant you had the window open, allowing a breeze to cool down the room. Also more often than not, if you were in your bedroom, you were stripped down to only a t-shirt and underwear, comfortable with your peers and yourself. 

Plus it wasn’t like trainees or label mates of the opposite sex came storming through. 

You leaned back on your stomach and reached up to dim the light beside your bed. You grabbed the book you had been nursing along for the better part of a month and began to read. You attempted to get your thoughts centralized on something that wasn’t stressful. 

You tilted yourself so your ears could better focus on the noises whispering through your window. The wind whipped through the branches of the tree beside your building, causing you to be a bit on edge. The sound wasn’t as normal as what you were used to hearing, but you shook it off. You needed to get out of your own head. 

You focused again on your book, furrowing your brows at a paragraph you had to read for a second time. 

“Aish,” an irritated voice hissed, followed by the muffled sound of shoes hitting brick. 

Just as you moved to turn around, a heavy weight fell on your back, squishing you against your mattress. 

“Yah!” you screeched, spinning to roll out from underneath the newfound pressure and onto the floor. “What in the hell!” 

You looked up, your face hot with panic as you caught the eyes of a very familiar face. 

“Kihyun? What are you doing? How did you-” 

“Put your pants on!” Kihyun gasped, pointing to your half naked frame. 

You winced, becoming even more self aware and hot with the oncoming wave of embaressment. 

“Y/N!” your members voices shouted down the hall. “Y/N! Is everything alright?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed. “They can’t see you in here.”

“Well what do you want me to do? Jump back out of the window?” Kihyun gasped, moving from the bed and looking around with wild eyes. 

“Well…” you grumbled, tilting your head. It wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“I am NOT jumping out of the window!” he whisper shouted, seeming to read your mind. 

“Fine, under the bed!” you whisper shouted back, grabbing the man by his sweater and shoving him toward the floor.

“I’d much rather prefer to be the monster in the closet,” Kihyun muttered, shuffling across your room and side stepping into the closet. He pulled the accordion doors before him and disappeared from sight.  

“Y/N! Are you okay? We heard you scream?” two of your members asked, appearing in your doorway with wide eyes. 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, trying to quiet your heart rate. “Bad dream.”

“Is that all?” one of them questioned, furrowing her brows. “I was totally convinced something finally flew through that window. I was going to say I told you so.”

You tried to stifle a scoff as you looked innocently back to them. “Nope, nothing flew in.”

Crashed through on the other hand…

“Alright, well, what was the bad dream about?” the opposite member asked, giving you a kind smile. You attempted to return the expression, but really couldn’t help how forced it appeared. 

“Um…welll,” your began, but promptly stopped as you glanced toward the closet, noticing one of Kihyun’s feet poking out ever so slightly from beneath a pile of clothes. “Uh, it was about…um, we didn’t debut.”

“Don’t speak that evil into the world,” your member groaned, stomping her foot lightly. 

“We’re going to debut,” the opposite member cooed, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. She patted you softly before pulling it back to her side. “And you’re going to do really well.”

“Thanks,” you winced, giving a small nod. “But uh…you know how precious sleep is around here…so I’m going to try to get back to it.”

“Try to keep your nightmares quiet, yah?” your member grumbled, rubbing a hand through her bed head. “Sleep is precious to us too you know.”

You continued to nod, closing the door lightly behind them as they shuffled down the hall and back to their respective areas. 

As you turned, you groaned as you noticed Kihyun had already reemerged from the closet and was fiddling with some trinkets on your desk. 

“Well this is neat,” he muttered, playing with a small figurine. 

“Give me that,” you grumbled, trying to rip the small piece of plastic from his hands when he promptly sidestepped, causing you to nearly fall on your face. 

“Put on some pants,” he chuckled. “Or don’t. If we’re being honest, I’d prefer if you don’t. The little peaches on your panties are pretty cute.”

“Aish,” you groaned, immediately crossing the room and picking up a pair of sweatpants you had laying across your desk chair. Hearing Kihyun mutter the word “panties” in relation to you made your skin bubble with goosebumps. 

“What are you doing in my room?” you hissed, giving your head a good shake of all inappropriate thoughts. You tugged on your sweat pants and crossed your arms. 

“Well, you see,” he said slowly. “I fell through your window and-”

“You know what I mean,” you groaned. “It’s past curfew.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he grinned. “Why do you think I fell through your window?”

“So you knew the building was locked up?”

“Of course I knew,” Kihyun sighed, plopping onto your mattress. “I also knew that every time you come home you crack your window, so I figured coming in this way would cause a whole lot less grief than contacting a manager.”

“How did you know about my window?” you muttered, cutting him with a side eye. 

“Because this was the Monsta X dorm before it was your group’s,” Kihyun nodded. “It would get so hot at night. We all slept naked.”

Kihyun watched you carefully as he said the words, grinning as he saw you grow visibly uncomfortable. 

“We have to get you out of here,” you grumbled, shaking your head and turning back toward the door. 

“What?” Kihyun cooed innocently. “Did I say something?”

“Either you cooperate or I’m shoving you back through the window,” you muttered, pulling open your bedroom door and poking your head out. You looked carefully from one side of the hall to the other, not bothering to look over your shoulder as you signaled with your hand for Kihyun to come over. 

“You think this’ll work?” Kihyun whispered, his breath hot in your ear. You flinched, trying to ignore the proud expression on Kihyun’s face for causing you another level of discomfort. 

“If you don’t screw it up,” you muttered, pulling the door open a bit further. You grabbed Kihyun by the collar of his shirt and pushed him before you. You shuffled down the hall, keeping your chest close to his back as you moved as one entity. Both of you were hardly breathing, only coming to a stop once you reached the door. 

Your fingers flew quickly over the multiple locks, unlatching one after the next. “Please,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “Don’t make this a habit.”

“Personally I planned on using your window more often,” Kihyun chuckled lightly, careful to look over his shoulder as he did so. “After all, what man doesn’t want to be greeted by a slightly sweaty and pants-less label mate.”

“You know, this is me helping you,” you muttered, finally springing the last lock free. “I can make this real bad, real quick.”

“But you won’t,” Kihyun cooed. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and grinned. “Because secretly, you wouldn’t mind me coming through your window again.”

You pursed your lips, glaring at the man as you shoved him from your dorm. He stumbled out into the hallway, just barely catching himself before he hit the pavement. He quickly regained his footing and sprinted down the hall, looking over his shoulder just as he was about to turn the corner. 

“I owe you one,” he hummed, giving you a cocky wink. Without sparing another glance, he disappeared down another hallway, only his footsteps against cement echoing in the distance.

You groaned, disappearing behind your own door once again to begin fastening the multitude of locks. 

It was time to start closing your window.

Originally posted by wonhontology

thanks go to @novaurora13 for helping with the prompt ^.^

Many Things

I know I promised the last part of Come On Baby, Light My Fire for today, but it’s been giving me issues. So I distracted myself by finishing up this, which I started for Mother’s Day, so it’s only a month late, no big deal. Haha. Anyhow, this is the entire piece I had planned. If you’ve read the first part when I posted it back in May, you can skim to the first line break or reread, whatever. This is completely unbeta’d so all mistakes or awkwardness are my fault. Also, it’s rated VERY MUCH M…for smut. Enjoy and everyone have a great weekend!


With a hefty sigh, Katniss falls back onto the bed and doesn’t move. She lays there with eyes shut, listening to the silence of the house and enjoying the peace for just a moment. There are dishes from dinner still piled in the sink, needing to be washed. A basket full of jumbled up laundry that she would need to fold and sort, unless she could convince Peeta to do that for her. Convincing usually doesn’t take much work since her husband is often eager to help in any way he can. She just feels guilty begging help from him late at night like this when he has to be up early to make it to the bakery in time to finish prep and open.




The bed dips beside her and hands cradle her head, lifting and placing her head carefully in his lap as she smiles faintly. Peeta’s fingers unwind the tie holding her hair in place and then her braid, which is probably a mess by now. She tugs self-consciously in her shirt, briefly hoping her mommy rolls aren’t on display before his fingers comb through her tresses with almost immediate effect. She hums contentedly, encouraging him to continue.

Keep reading

With PTSD, the trauma never ends. You live in this cycle of avoiding triggers, getting triggered, having flashbacks, breaking down, trying to survive, and then it starts all over.
With CPTSD and/or repressed memories, it’s even worse because the trauma literally never stops. You can think you’ve turned a corner, you’re getting close to a break through, or you’re having a good week, and BAM, a new traumatic memory that you never knew existed demands to be heard. You live in constant fear of turning around and finding out that the monsters in your closet have reproduced and created a fleet that will continue to devour you for the rest of you life.
I live in constant fear of good days, of better moments, of break throughs. Because usually, that just means another monster is getting ready to charge around the corner.

Ihaven'tmadeoneinawhile
  • Nagisa: dad, there's a monster in my closet.
  • Kamukura: -walks over to Nagisa's closet- what are you talking about? there's no monster in your closet -opens Nagisa's closet-
  • Komaeda: -pops his head out side of the closet door and smiles at Kamukura-
Some Comfort [a Sebastian Smythe imagine]

a/n: i needed to write this for me bc this is going on…yeah…i just needed to…i need seb to comfort me and get my feelings out; im sorry. I promise i’ll write the 3 requests i have tomorrow


WARNING: Mentions of verbal abuse (please don’t get offended; if this is triggering for you, please do not read)


Every kid had their own monster. Like one in the closet, under the bed; in this case, your mom is your monster. Glee is your safe haven. The place where all your worries, all your fears, could just melt away. Well…it was until fifty eight seconds ago.

Standing up from the auditorium seat, you rush towards the exit, poofy black skirt flaring around your thighs. The door swings open, creaking slightly as you let out shallow breaths. Gulping back tears, you lean against the cream pillar, hearing the door catch. “Hey, aren’t you dorks on next?” Comes a cocky voice that belongs to none other than Sebastian Smythe.

Oh no, he can’t see you crying. Turning your head away from him, you sniffle, trying to dry your cheeks…that are covered in mascara. Wonderful. “Hey…what’s up with you?” he asks, this time in a cations tone.

You snort softly, “Why do you care?” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Sebastian straightens his back, fixing his striped tie perfectly on his crisp white button down. “You can’t sing well if you’re upset, you know. I’d like to win fair and square.” he grumbles, shrugging. You let out a dry laugh, arms hugging yourself. “But seriously, why…why are you crying? Not that you gotta spill-”

“My mom.” you answer quietly, avoiding his gaze.

His posture stiffens and he frowns, crossing his arms; his blazer wrinkles. “What about her?” he asks, stepping closer to you.

Inhaling, you look at Sebastian, cheeks wet with tears. “She…she keeps trying to contact me and-and I…” you breathe in, shaking your head as you hold yourself tighter. “I want her to stop. She’s… She hated me as a kid… Said I was weak, I never should’ve been born, disgusting; other awful insults… Sebastian, I can’t…” you cry, tears dripping off the end of your nose.

Instantly his hands gently latch onto your upper arms, green eyes boring into yours. One of his hands cup your cheek, thumb collecting the tiny waterfalls. “She’s wrong, so wrong. You are not weak, do you understand me?” Sebastian says sternly, “You are a blessing to this earth. Y/N, please, please don’t listen to any bullshit she says.” he begs, crouching to your level; his light brown locks jumps slightly.

Sniffling, you wait for people to enter the auditorium, toying with your cherry red bow around your waist. The asshole is telling you…you’re a blessing? No, no, no, this can’t be right, Sebastian is…evil. “H-how can I not?” you shout, carding your fingers through your hair. “She-she keeps contacting me in any way possible! And I ca- I can’t do anything! I’m scared, Seb! It's…it’s-”

“Harassment?” he offers, sucking in a deep breath. You shake your head, about to argue with him. “Yes it is, Y/N. I know harassment when I see it.” he bites, licking his lips. Your chest rises and falls, stopping all together when the door pops open. Sebastian glares, “I got this handled, Berry.” he informs, squinting his eyes, nimble fingers dancing up and down your arm.

Rachel sighs, glancing at you for confirmation; you nod faintly. “Mr. Shue said you have fifteen before you need to get backstage… We really need you.” she mumbles shyly, heading back inside.

A heavy breath leaves you and you swallow harshly. “I need to- I need to go.” you whisper, screwing your eyelids shut as you point behind you.

The Warbler nods, still frowning. His lanky arms wrap around your upper body, pulling you to his chest; your arms do the same, fingers curling in the fabric of his navy blazer. “I’m gonna help you, I swear. You aren’t alone.” Sebastian mutters in your ear, lips barely touching your cheek for a kiss.

“Thank you…”

30 Day OC Challenge because I need to spam you guys

If anyone else wants to do this with me, I figure these prompts can be answered however you want whether it be telling everyone, drawing, making gifsets, writing a short blurb, whatever!

Day 1- First Impressions: Introduce your character as if we are meeting them on the street. How do they come across to us?

Day 2- If you wanna be my lover: Friends, Family, and SOs. Tell us all about them and their relationship with your OC!

Day 3- When I was a young OC: What was your OC’s childhood like? Were they a tiny terror or a little angel? Or did you give them such a traumatic past they didn’t get the chance to be a kid.

Day 4- Dress to impress: Is your OC a fashion icon or a throw on whatever is available type of person? What kinds of clothes will we find in their closet?

Day 5- My English teacher was right all along: What are some symbols that follow your OC throughout their journey/story? Do they have any emblems they identify with? If not, what’s an object that has meaning to them?

Day 6- Whoa, listen to the music: What is your OC’s theme song/theme songs? Explain.

Day 7- Sugar and Spice: How is your OCs relationship with children? Do they plan to have any?

Day 8- A feast fit for kings: What does your OC eat? Do they cook for themselves or are they hopeless in the kitchen?

Day 9- Phenomenal Cosmetic Powers: What three wishes would your character ask a genus for?

Day 10: Itty bitty living space: Where does your character live/ how is it set up? Messy? Minimal? Filled with books or movie posters? Do they share it?

Day 11- Dancing with Myself: How does your OC handle social interactions? Social butterfly or anxious corner go-er? What large scale social interaction do they face the most?

Day 12- Shop til you drop: (You can do grocery shopping, magic ingredient shopping, clothes, furniture, ect, or all of the above depending on what kind of world your character is in and how it would relate) How does your character feel about shopping? Do they buy until they’re broke or have to haggle everything?

Day 13- Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home: What’s your OC’s Hogwarts house? Because we all know this is a valid personality test. (Alternately, if you aren’t a fan of hogwarts, what’s their Myers Brigg Personality)

Day 14- Self-depreciation at its finest: What does your character dislike about themself? Why? Do other people feel the same way about that trait?

Day 15- I don’t give a damn about my reputation: What kind of reputation DOES your OC have? Do they know or do they remain blissfully ignorant? If they do know, what do they think of it?

Day 16- Emperor’s New Clothes: Is your OC a fashion icon or more a throw on whatever kind of person? What kinds of things would we see in their closet?

Day 17- Everybody’s workin for the weekend: What is your OCs “job” (however they define that)? Do they love it or do their co-workers constantly make their life a living hell?

Day 18- I’m bored: What does your OC do in their free time/ for fun?

Day 19- Man’s best friend: How does your OC feel about animals (both wild and pets)? Do they have an animal companion?

Day 20- I can explain, I swear: What would your OC get arrested for? Would they try to weasel their way out of it, pay off bail, or do the time?

Day 21- On the road again: Does your OC travel? Do they want to? Where would they go? And how?

Day 22- Monsters in the closet: What is your OC afraid of the most?

Day 23- Hi mom: What would your OC get famous for and how would they/their friends feel about that? If they are famous- do they like it?

Day 24- Tropes are overrated: What tropes does your OC fall into the most?

Day 25- Are we there yet?: What are their ambitions and aspirations? Do they have any real chance at reaching them?

Day 26- Senior Quote: Pick a quote that perfectly describes your OC. Explain.

Day 27- Weapon of Choice: Does your character kill with kindness, slip out of things with a quick tongue, take an axe to the problem, or just fail miserably?

Day 28- A dream is a wish your heart makes: What/Who is the hope that keeps your OC going? What do they live for?

Day 29- They grow up so fast: If you’ve had this OC awhile, how have they changed from your original idea of them? If they haven’t, how have they changed as they aged in story?

Day 30- Before we go: Quirks, habits, and fun facts about your OC.

EDIT: I actually finished this once and then accidentally deleted most of it so what probably happened was that was something I remembered and didn’t realize was already on the list: 
Alternate Day 16- What are your OCs sleeping habits?
Echo

Originally posted by karlmordo

Request:  Hey, I was wondering if I could get a fanfic with Tony where reader is Obie Stane’s kid, but they stay close friends? Maybe he finds out something bad happened to her because of her dad? Can it be to the song “Echo” by Amalee? (I’m so sorry if I’m getting annoying! 😰😰😰)Pairing:  Tony Stark x reader

Summary:  You were attacked by an enemy of Stane and now you are blind. Can Tony help make you see the color’s you so miss?

So I didn’t put the song lyrics directly into the fic bc I felt like it broke up the flow I had going so its based off of this song!

Words Count: 1,217

Genre: kinda angsty

Notes: This is unedited as it is 3 in the morning sorry



You awoke to the sounds of birds chirping outside of your bedroom window. You open your tired eyes to be greeted with the blackness you had grown accustom to the last few months. You were the daughter of Obadiah Stane the infamous criminal, and like most criminals he had accumulated many enemies inducing your best friend Tony stark. He had been your friend since childhood since both of your father’s were friends as well. You were lucky enough that Tony forgave you for every bad thing that your father had done to him but other people weren’t that ready to forgive and forget.

You had gotten used to all of the comments that filled your social media, the hate mail and the negative media coverage, but what you weren’t ready for was when someone decided to blind you.

You were coming home from a lecture that you were giving a Columbia when a man ran up to you and attacked you with a knife. Now you had a gnarly pink scar that ran horizontal over your eyes and many more scars on your arms from trying to protect yourself from the maniac. If it wasn’t for a few college students nearby, you probably would have been six feet under instead of just blind. while most people would be thankful for being spared, you were not. Before you were blinded you were an art theory professor and a highly acclaimed art critic but now, all of the beautiful colors that once  lit up your world had been stripped from you. Your only identity that separated you from your father had been taken from you and you no longer knew who you were.

Keep reading

Supernatural reference to RE
  • RE teacher: Give a quote from the Bible
  • Me: And on the seventh day, God said 'let there be Tumblr'
  • RE teacher: ...
  • ******
  • RE teacher: @destielmybae, write a prayer for our assembly on Thursday.
  • Me: Dear Castiel, please make sure the big cheese up there doesn't smite us fanboys and girls and make sure Dean and Sam don't start the Apocalypse again. I ain't in the mood for more angst on Supernatural on this holy day of Thursday. aMeN.
  • RE teacher: We need to work on that prayer.
  • ****
  • RE teacher: * long sermon * Amen.
  • Class: Amen
  • Me: Team Free Will
  • ***
  • RE teacher: And Michael is one of the greatest ange-
  • Me: I object. Michael's a dick.
  • ***
  • RE teacher: Today, continuing on from our moral discussion of cannabalism, we will research on mythical creatures steming from this. An example of this is-
  • Me: Wendigo. You kill them with fire. They live in mines. Put a salt circle around your camp site. Alternatively, call the Winchesters.
  • RE teacher: Yes... That was very... Informative.
  • ***
  • RE teacher: The greatest angel is-
  • Me: Castiel.
  • RE teacher: I am up to my neck with you. For the last time, Castiel isn't a real Ange-
  • Me: *walking threatingly towards teacher: Don't. You. Dare. Diss. CASTIEL!!! Or I swear, I will make the monster in your closet haunt you. And I will hide all of the books saying how to kill it!
  • ***
  • RE teacher: Angels are immortal, they cannot be kil-
  • Me: Angle blades. Or if they are in Purgutory or Hell, they can be killed normally.
  • RE teacher: I give up.
| abstruse | Bill Cipher

ok so a warning in advance i wrote this premise at three in the morning so its prob gross and unedited bc i dont feel like reading it over right now. also its a two shot so the next part will come another time


ab·struse

/abˈstro͞os,əbˈstro͞os/

adjective

1. difficult to understand; obscure.


The first time you met him you were but a child.

Evening long gone, you stared through your curtains into the darkness, moonlight shining through the silky material and making a dreamlike bath of silver onto your bed.

You kicked your legs restlessly. Summer had begun to creep in and you were becoming agitated with the weather. With this in mind you wrestled off your blankets, no more a cool swaddle of comfort but hot and constricting.

The closet creaked.

You stiffened. You could only see through a sliver of the opening, but it was terrifying. Your foolish imagination pictured something staring at you from the darkness, some unknown monster ready to devour you.

A whimper forced itself from your throat as you pulled the covers back over you, drawing them up to your neck. You looked away but that only made it worse; the fear of what could be there intensified - and if you weren’t looking then what would stop it from devouring you?

So you switched to staring the closet down again, only to lose your wits and look away, the cycle repeating. At the end you were shivering, soaked in sweat as you shut your eyes tight.

I’m going to d-die, mommy, daddy, h-help-!

“Die?”

At the voice your thoughts came to a halting stop. 

“Well if that’s not dramatic, I don’t know what is, kid.”

You were still tense, small hands grasping the sheets so tight you could rip them apart. A hot fear pressed itself into your stomach, but childish curiousity won out, and the world came back into vision as your eyes snapped open.

A wide eye stared back owlishly.

Your lips parted to let out a silent scream, frozen in shock. The eye blinked, an inky black pupil dilating as it examined you. 

The horrifying thing was that you had sworn it had just been bright gold.

“W-Who-” Your bottom lip trembled. Another look proved that the creature didn’t have one eye, no the other was just covered in a weird cloth - you had seen the same thing in one of the pirate picture books in your living room. 

Actually this may not even be a creature. The longer you stared it proved that while a stranger, the man in front of you looked every bit like, well, a man, and not the monster you were imagining. 

The stranger adjusted his eyepatch, leaning back so that you were given an even better vantage point. He rocked on his heels and moved to the left in a motion so smooth it was like he was walking on air. Your stomach squeezed when you realized he was. 

“Go away!” You said, voice shaking but defiant. The man only raised a single eyebrow. 

You did what you were used to doing to escape the monsters. You closed your eyes so tight the skin burned and covered your face. 

What.

He was still there, impossibly. His gaze rested on your form and he snickered, leaning on his cane. You opened your eyes again in fright.

“Not gonna work, kid,” He tapped his finger to his head. “Can’t escape what’s in your mind.”

“M-My mind?” You mouthed uselessly, barely processing this, but easily distracted. The clockwork in your head ground slowly. “So you’re my im-ima-” What was that stupid adult word. “-imagination?”

“There’s a difference to being from your mind and in your mind, kid.”

You screwed up your face. “You make no sense mister.”

He giggled again, and it really was a giggle, one that stretched his lips too wide along snow white teeth and rose uneasy goosebumps to your arms. “I don’t make sense? You are awfully polite to someone you don’t know, who invaded your room in the middle of the night.”

You were dutifully reminded that yes, he was exactly that as soon as the words left his mouth. The fear that had left and been replaced with naive confusion and curiousity instantly came slamming back into you.

As if sensing your terror, his eye flashed gold again. You had no time to feel good that you hadn’t been crazy earlier as he invaded your personal space to get right in your face, a smooth, gloved hand pressing a finger into your temple. 

“Boo.”

This time, when you screamed, it wasn’t silent.

You were bawling by the time your parents burst through your bedroom door, snot bubbling in your nose and tears leaving salty trails down your cheeks.

Through the cooing questions of ‘what’s wrong honey’ and pats of comfort, you just managed to spot the man watching you with the same grin.

You pointed. “There! Mommy there!”

You could only look in disbelief when your parents turned back to you. The expression on their faces was one you were too accustomed with. The same look they had when you dropped a plate of cookies because they had been too hot and you were impatient. The same look they had when you got frightened of something in a movie and they had to remind you that it wasn’t real. 

The same look they’d had countless times when you told them of monsters in your closet.

“Darling,” Your mom sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “There’s no one there. Do you want to sleep with us tonight?”

You held straight eye contact with the man as he winked, putting a finger to his lips before disappearing.


The second time you met him must have been at least four years later.

You’d been getting ready for school, adjusting yourself in the bathroom. You washed your face, looked up, and there he was in the mirror, looking back.

You shrieked.

The heel of your foot hit the door as you lurched back, and you lost your balance, slamming your head into the wall with a pained grunt.

“Y/N?” The muffled voice of your dad came from somewhere in the house.

“I’m fine!” You yelled back unconsciously, far too occupied, still rubbing your head while your vision spotted.

The man sighed.

“Just as clumsy it seems,” He mused before phasing out of the mirror like it was nothing, looking around your bathroom. A flash of amusement passed through his eyes and you realized in horror a pair of underwear you possessed was hanging off the towel rails. You grabbed it, face burning.

He scrunched up his nose in mock disgust, before his expression went neutral as he rolled his eye. “Please kid. You’re like what, five? Calm down.”

“I am not five,” you bristled, defensive of your age. “I turn ten this year. Ten!” You held up all your fingers, proud of the achievement. Ha!

The man let loose a laugh, that odd one, the hollow scrape of pitch that echoed against the walls. 

“I’m surprised you remember me,” He tilted his head, and the floating top hat followed the movement.

Of course you did.

That night had traumatized you as a kid. You couldn’t begin to remember all the nightmares dreams you’d had about him since then. Always grinning, always behind you, looping his cane around your body at the last moment to pull you into the void.

“I guess,” was all you said. It was a relief to see that you weren’t insane and imagined that as a kid, or at least that you were just forever crazy, even now. 

He hummed, crossing his legs in the air as he invaded your personal space yet again. You tensed.

“I’m not scared o’ you,” You told him, stressing the words in case he didn’t hear you properly. He snorted.

“Says the one scared of make believe monsters in their closet.”

“I-you-” You sputtered. “All children were scared of that at point! I was only a kid!”

He seemed the most amused at this. “I’m pretty sure you’re still a kid, but whatever floats your boat, brat.”

The outright staring competition that took place after that was broken when he cupped his chin in his hand, his eyes lidding.

“Aren’t you late for something?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before jolting, wiping your hands on your skirt and running out of the bathroom. “School!”

He trailed behind you lazily, and you weren’t surprised when your parents didn’t notice the snickering man, flailing upside down in the air beside you in the car.

“Y/N, didn’t I tell you to stop messing with my hair?” Your mom stared at you in the rear view mirror.

“B-But!” You held out your innocent hands but she only sighed in disappointment and turned her eyes back to the road. You shot a glare at the man, who only let a Cheshire grin cross his expression.


He didn’t stop following you after that.

Whether it be at school, or at home, or wherever you went actually, it was like you had a persistent imaginary friend. That’s what you had convinced yourself he was - since no one could see him but you; however as you grew older you started to waver on that theory when the things he did would affect the real world.

(Like that one time he got mad at your fifth grade teacher and splashed her coffee mug all over her blouse with a monotone “oops”.)

You didn’t ask him why he was always around, and to be fair you didn’t want to know. At first he had been a pest, and you had been very adamant on getting him to leave you alone. But as the days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and then to years, you grew worried of the exact opposite. 

When had he left such a permanent stamp on your life? Was it when he saved you from tripping into a ditch that one time in third grade? Or when he gave hell to the guy who had embarrassed you in seventh grade by pretending to like you only for it to be a prank? (The look on his face when an invisible gust of wind knocked him off balance and his bag into the mud, giving him a makeover from the splash will forever make you collapse into giggles.)

“Why did you do it?” You remember asking, mascara running down your face - why did you bother dressing up for him, for this “date”, he was just like the rest, you were an idiot - when you got home that day. The glove wearing psychopath that followed you around did not care the most about you, this you knew from experience and many embarrassing memories. So why, at times, did he make it seem like he did? 

Your imaginary friend only stared at you blankly, making you shiver. He got like this sometimes - where his grinning persona would falter and you got a glimpse at the insanity beneath. There were occasions when it slipped, when he would hurt you and not worry about it - you were not mentioning that knife accident - or when he would just stare into space like a statue. 

This was one of those moments. Your hand was frozen with a baby wipe, in the process of wiping your mascara off while he stared at you with something swirling in that bottomless, pitch black void of his eye. He called you kid all the time, but the look now on his face was unreadable, timeless, as if he had been around for such a long time it was incomprehensible for you, seen things you couldn’t imagine. 

His head tilted, blonde tufts of his hair falling in front of his eye-patch. You blinked and then it was over, whatever had been there was gone and he was grinning like normal.

“Why not?” He rolled his eye, flicking your head so that it clonked painfully into the mirror. You yelped and whirled around to give him a piece of your mind but he was already gone. You rubbed at the spot on your temple that would have been bruising if any of that was real.

Yes, if it was real. You had learned long ago that while the bane of your life could mess with the outside world to a certain degree, he couldn’t actually touch you at all. It was only in your mind that he projected into when he did.

Still, pain he formed in your mind hurt just as much as in real life.

You stared at your reflection, dropping the dirty wipe into the garbage limply.


“Bill.”

“What?” His voice was startled in a way that you had never heard before. 

You blinked. You had gone to take a dip in the pool, and as you floated on the water’s surface, peering up, it had come to you.

“I said, Bill,” you repeated. “I can’t keep calling you ‘imaginary friend’ my whole life.”

He had never given you a name for him, and you in turn, like you always did, never asked. But he had been in your life for way too long, and you needed something to tie him down, something tangible you could finally latch his presence to.

Maybe that’s why he looked at you that way once the word left your lips. Maybe he didn’t want to be tied down.

“Why ‘Bill’?” He asked after a long silence, sitting on top the water’s surface as easily as you were floating.

When you didn’t answer he grew impatient and hooked your ankle with his cane, pulling you closer with a deadly tilt in his expression. “Why. Bill.”

While he didn’t actually pull you to him - again, he couldn’t touch you - the image in your mind of him doing so had distracted you enough that you lost your careful poise and floundered under the surface. You came up spluttering, hair sticking to your face and your mouth.

“What the hell,” You batted the water harshly with your palm, sending a splash at him with an annoyed tick of your eyebrow. 

The water phased right through him. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Y/N.”

You stopped. It was never Y/N. It was always ‘kid’, or some other ridiculous nickname he gave you. Whenever he said your actual name you knew he wasn’t joking around.

“I don’t know,” You rolled your eyes, gesturing to the brick pattern of his shirt. The shirt accompanied with his bow-tie and dapper but messy look over-all somehow just…fit the name perfectly. “It suits you.”

The man eyed you before laughing into a gloved hand. It bordered on the brink that you wondered if he was really okay, but eventually he stopped, shaking his head with a smile that let you know he had some kind of inside joke you weren’t aware of.

“What?” You asked. “Making fun of the name?”

“Not at all,” He mused, snapping the end of his glove onto his wrist, and you pretended you weren’t fascinated by the way the soft material accentuated his skin. “Bill, I like it.”

“Really?” You said, mouth open before you cleared your throat. “I mean, uh, okay.”

“Really,” He clarified, that glint in his eye again showing there was something you were definitely missing before he stretched his arms above his head. 

Just like that he was gone.

You absorbed his absence, going back to floating, the clouds looking to be pieces of taffy in the sky.

Wonder when he’s coming back this time, you wondered absentmindedly. 

Bill - yes, we were sticking with this - was sporadic. Sometimes you went to bed, and he was still there in the morning. Sometimes he followed you around for weeks at a time before he disappeared. But he always did, fading into the air around you like he was never there. 

He could leave and be back in five minutes, or you wouldn’t see him again till the next month. Once he didn’t return for almost a whole year and you wondered if you were finally regaining your sanity, but alas, you found him lounging on your bed when you arrived home from school. 

You always wondered where he was going, but you didn’t bother to ask him. (You were scared, too scared, you never asked him anything) He had a life just like you did, so there was no point.

You made a finger gun with your hand and halfheartedly flicked it to the sky.

“Bang.”

[MasterList]