#just what i needed more horrors...

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

okay so I made a sandman but i haven't watched/read it post and now i'm cursed apparently

i fucking slept for 16 hours and now i'm sleepy again

when i finally woke up i opened my laptop and realised the YT edit of dream (what? he's pretty ok) was open and i clicked it and he said

THE GIFT... OF ETERNAL SLEEP

and blew sand into the fucking screen thanks bestie

can't believe i got cursed by yet another sad wet repressed cat of a twink

[hinamie]

itakugi sillies fr the soul

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[obsob]

despite, despite, despite!!

[babacontainsmultitudes]

RIP Will Campos the only person who was murdered this episode.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[kitamars]

oh no! more ginhiji

[bananafire11]

TW BUGGY STUFFS

Working on my own tadc horror au... with a side of experimentation stuff cuz i can never truely escape that trope

I need to come up with an actual name for this au

Feedback and/or ideas much appreciated :]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

can't wait to see him again tomorrow! Tomorrow!!

[thejeangreysummers]

SUMMER IN NOVEMBER | simon x afab reader

warnings: making out, touching, shared shower time but no smut yet. traumatized simon with negative self worth post near death experience, reader is not in the military by choice, dubcon regarding tits if you squint, and possessive simon. (not proofread we die like men ig)

Simon loves the desperation in your first kiss, you kiss him through the mask clumsily with your arms around his neck. For the first time his reflexes loose their rigidity as he barely closes his eyes as you’re pulling away. Flushed, shamefaced, mumbling thank god you’re safe and turning away.

Simon tugs you by the wrist, it’s not a request by the way he’s studying you. You’re ready for the lecture about professionalism or a comment about how you’re old enough to know better than to pull a stunt like this. He’s never barked at you the way he does with the team. Never complains when you sit in his chair, doesn’t say anything when you drink out of his mug, and when you go out he’s paying your tab before you can touch it.

This will be the breaking point, the last time he tolerates you, now he’s going to tell you to go fuck yourself for sure. He tells you to close your eyes and you’re ready for him to scream at you bracing yourself not to cry.

Ghost kisses you roughly, sucking on your bottom lip, demanding you open yourself to him. In seconds he has you against the wall caging you in as he sucks on your neck, it’s better than the wet dreams you’ve been having with just this one kiss. All your nerve ending ache for him and you’re squirming, Simon pulls away eyes wide.

He’s still got blood tainted on his uniform, his hands have gunpowder residue — who is he to kiss you? You deserve more than a single night of him fucking you until you can’t stand. You don’t belong amongst all this carnage. You don’t belong with him.

Yet, you’re pulling him by his collar cradling his face in your small hands, kissing him again, softer like you’re sipping on his mouth, savoring it until he leaves again. Simon doesn’t want to share you with the wraith inside him, he wants all your sunlight to soak into him instead.

He lets you tug him to the infirmary, watches you re-reading the patient portal notes on your phone while walking to his room. When he complains, you silence his smart ass comments about his injuries when you slide into his lap. You curl into him like a cat searching for warmth, praise, and petting. He keens at your attention, your excessive worry, and your newfound display of affection. Wondering if after tonight you’ll come to your senses and never make him tea in the middle of the night again. He could make you beg for his mouth, but he can’t make you love him.

Simon leans into you as you set up a shower for him palming at your waist, digging his fingers into your hips, hovering over the button of your cargo pants. He lets you undress him just in his boxers and balaclava, you press a shaky kiss to the middle of his chest promising to wait for him in the bedroom. For the first time Simon doesn’t want to be alone, he catches himself asking you to join him in the shower. He doesn’t want to fuck you in the shower, he just wants you stay, but he doesn’t know how to justify the yearning he’s been holding for you. You don’t complicate things for him, just let him unzip your pants and unhook your bra. In the shower you stand away from the stream of hot water, gently scrubbing the sweat and exhaustion off his skin. You look away from his half hard cock as you run a washcloth over his calves, after doting on him you press a kiss to his cloth covered mouth. You gently trace the seam of his mask and tell him you’re leaving so he wash his intimates. Simon emerges out the steamy shower to a warm towel and neatly folded night clothes beside a clean balaclava with its signature skull.

That night your hands don’t linger down to his waist, you let him lay his head on your chest, you scratch down his upper back until you fall asleep. You never ask him for more than he’s willing to give, you’re so innocently interrupting the hardened exterior he presents, and you’re too naive to know he wanted you from the minute you looked up at him.

Simon needs one minute with his bare face against your tits. He knows from carrying you home after a drink turns to two, you’re affectionate until you’re fighting sleep you can’t be stirred. He knows you wouldn’t deny him this if you were awake. He’s slipping off the mask nuzzling his face against your tits into the curve of your neck until he’s on top of you leaning his forehead against yours and barely kissing your mouth.

He slips on his mask again, unwilling to let you see him vying for your love, waiting for your praise. He’s leaves the bed, wondering if he should pretend this night never happened, when you’re calling out his name in your sleep. Simon returns to the bed as you’re gasping for air, you heave with sobs as he pulls you into his chest. You’re begging him not to die, not to disappear, not to abandon you.

“I love you, you can’t leave.”

For the first time in the years he’s known you, something emerges that is unyielding— more than a watery sob this is a practically a prayer. Your wish may be more than you bargained for, but you belong to him now. If you’ll take him as he is sharp teeth, crooked, and scarred he must find a way to live with himself. One day you’ll know that you’re the first to have touched his broken nose, scarred cupid’s bow, and uneven shave. He wasn’t held like this even when he was a child, but you’re holding onto him for dear life and you love him.

The way you see through everyone extends past human understanding, you’re both paranormal in your own ways. You’re a collection of colorful persistent oddities, your curious consumptions forced you into this line of business. Your mistakes is his dumb luck, he’s claiming your love as his prize. You’re too pretty a bird to stay in these barracks, kept in this cage, consumed by all this corruption. After everything his atonement will be keeping you safe. Men may change, but the self serving nature of ghosts linger. The prospect of spoiling you rotten, earning your smile, and making you whimper his name will be his own pleasures one day.

[jeeaark]

And now my brain goes mad.

Greygold X Lae’zel X Emps?

Does Icarus fly too close to the sun? Do mortals not wish to wield the power of gods without consequence??

Can dreams really come true???

No one in this universe wants LaexGreygxEmps to happen more than Greygold. But Baby Steps. Right now, they'd be ecstatic if all three of them were in the same room without any blood spilling. Oh, the 19th century Victorian blush they'd have if they ever got to the point of hand-holding.

[happyk44]

percy needs to be haunted by bianca's ghost more

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think a lot about how early-series, demigods are referred to pretty equally as "demigods," "half-bloods," and "godlings," - the last used particularly by gods at demigods - but after that "godlings" is almost exclusively used to refer to minor gods.

something something i am literally always chewing on the concept of the line between immortals/demigods/monsters/etc being thinner than it appears

[justalittleguest]

Why is the spiciest, vilest, sinisterest take on Horror him being a cannibal. Girl that’s NOT his toxic trait. He’s so much worse.

[milkweedman]

It is interesting how much math comes into even the most basic of like. Making things. Making almost anything. And often not numbers necessarily but proportions and geometry. I think all the time about how castles were built with geometry at the heart of it. And I use the same kind of proportional math to make socks fit. And none of my pieces are ever knit with a prime number of stitches--because you use factors to make neat colorwork and ribbing and different stitches. Idk ! I remember constantly thinking 'how the hell is THIS gonna come in useful ?' But it always does. Math is at the heart of everything, and knowing how to apply it is a tool of critical importance to Thinking Up A Shape And Making It.

[triglycercule]

so there's been versions of horror that don't talk. versions of dust that don't say a word. but what about killer man. what if he didn't speak???

i need this man to do the most outrageous crazy and unhinged things while saying not a single word. i need killer sans to stand in corners and not say anything while observing other people (just like how some people depicts horror/dust,,,,) with the most expressionless face ever. the guy cannot feel i want his face to show that. he will murder he will steal he will bother every living being around him while not saying a goddamn thing. ACTUALLY i want his face not to move at ALL!!! this killer's face looks like the 😐 emoji but it has tears. idk maybe it's because if he opens his mouth he'll start leaking dt and he wont even be able to talk so its not worth it. or maybe a certain red eyed child or oily king ordered him never to speak unless they tell him to and now killer just doesn't speak. he doesn't even learn sign language or body language or does any physical cues (voluntarily) because that's considering "speaking". idk just ideas but i like the idea of the guy that does arguably the craziest shit to just. not speak. or have any sort of body language ever. he stands and walks like a robot only sort of personality that shines through is in fights. but even if killer doesn't talk and have any sort of physical presence people will still be able to tell what hes like based on his actions

anyways maybe i just need ALL of the mtt not to speak. yeah that seems cool. none of them speak they just silently beat each other up (killer is dead silent dust is violently signing and horror is making several indescribable noises. this is the most intense fight they will ever have)