#I was creeped out

[killerpancakeburger]

Y/N: Ohmygod hiiiiiii Soap, confused but happy: Hi? Y/N: Aren't you just the cutest thing? Soap: 😳 y-you really think so? 👉👈 Y/N: C'm'ere baby Soap: *takes one step, not believing his luck* Y/N: *crouches to pet the cat who's been standing near Soap all along* What a sweet kitty, don't you agree Soap? Soap: Soap: *trying to hide his embarassment* Haha yeah...

[wes-laye]

Self indulgent My House of Horrors doodle

Managed to blast through 600+ chapters thanks to the last few days of Covid

[ask-zacharies-snackarie]

Yet another photo post heheheh

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

How much longer 'til your luck runs out?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[shaylogic]

Okay, so we know that Charles' polo goes red>burgundy>black and back by the end of the season.

Because there's so much going on, I always missed the exact transitions. This time I specifically tracked them down. (Apologies if this has already been done.)

Charles shirt is bright red through the majority of the Devlin House, even in Hope's Diary scene, when he opens up to Crystal.

Even when he first swings at Mr. Devlin and gets knocked back, his shirt is red.

The very subtle shift to burgundy is after he disappears and first reappears in the loop.

It remains burgundy throughout the entire lighthouse leapers episode and beginning of the two dead dragons.

I finally realized the very last moment we see of Charles in the burgundy is with Crystal. She tells him after the confusing makeout night, "But I think we should be friends," and kind-hearted Charles, of course, respects that and puts on a friendly smile.

It's difficult to see in the next scene with him because of his jacket, the angle he sits at on the ladder, and the lighting, but it's immediately after that when we first see him in the black polo.

My brother in death, you are NOT doing well.

here's another song from Jayden Revri's official Charles playlist, that I think is about this conflict with Crystal:

His shirt is still black during the "I don't wanna be a bad guy" scene.

After Edwin's affirmation of Charles' inherent goodness, it is directly after this scene that the shirt goes back to burgundy!!!

He's still wearing the burgundy during the confession:

BUT IT GOES BACK TO BRIGHT RED LITERALLY RIGHT AFTER EDWIN'S CONFESSION AND THEY ESCAPE HELL TOGETHER!

Yo I equally love Cryland and Payneland but the show canonly said "Crystal hit him in the loneliness and Edwin hit him in the loved"

[classichorrorblog]

10 Movies From The 2010s To Consider For October/Halloween

[rafey-baby]

c/w: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing naive!reader's underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home

wc: 2.3k

he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now. At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her; having watched one too many horror films with her friends.

However, as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 

She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a morbid gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or merely cleaning her living room.

She didn’t like it, didn’t know when it exactly began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.

She’d be changing her clothes in order to get ready for bed when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window; trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she'd finally have some sort of an explanation. Instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard before she’d quickly draw the curtains closed. 

In addition, lately she’d been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night panting with her heart thudding in her ribcage and sometimes she could swear she felt the eyes of a stranger still lingering on her sweaty skin. 

Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.

unknown number

why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?

look so pretty in your underwear…

4 attachments

The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold as her eyes scan over the multiple pictures of her half naked; all taken through the glass of the large window in her room. A window she's lately been making sure is covered at all times.

She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more; heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen to type out a response. 

you

who is this?

im gonna call the cops

unknown number

do I scare you?

And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they find nothing. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 

A couple of days go by and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number as she’s boiling pasta for dinner.

This time, she decides to simply ignore it; choosing to believe it’s someone calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen and her breath gets caught in her windpipe as she scans it over. 

unknown number

breaking my heart here princess :(

you

leave me alone

unknown number

but that’s no fun, is it?

you

what do u want from me?

unknown number

want you to keep your curtains open more often

you

so u can take more pictures of me?

unknown number

can just watch if that’s what you prefer?

you

leave me alone

please

She repeats before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. 

She thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to turn less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.

At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes from her drawer she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be where she left it, right?

The air suddenly feels like sand; poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff he’s had to break into her home. Therefore, he’s been in her bedroom before and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago. 

Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now.

If he wanted to hurt her, then he would’ve done it by now. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in order to offer some form of solace for her troubled thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The following night she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara by the sink when a text pops up. 

psycho stalker

someone came home late

have fun on your date?

Chills erupt on her skin as she peers down at the screen. After the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted with his arduous mind games on top of it all; wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.

However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether as another message pops up.

psycho stalker

assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..

you

none of your business 

psycho stalker

was he boring?

talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?

She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 

you

what the fuck is wrong with you

you’re following me now??

She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.

psycho stalker

just wanted to make sure you were safe

you

I feel very safe right now thank you

psycho stalker

someone’s got an attitude

that bad?

you

please just leave me alone 

psycho stalker

what color are your panties?

you

what the hell?

not telling you that

psycho stalker

want me to come over and find out for myself then? 

you

u wouldn’t do that 

psycho stalker

wanna bet?

She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 

you

…

black

psycho stalker

with the lace?

you

yes

psycho stalker

shit

that’s one of my favorites on you

you

you’re sick in the head

psycho stalker

that’s not very nice

did you wear them for him?

you

he wasn’t worth it

don’t think he would’ve even been able to make me come

psycho stalker

yeah?

need help with that?

you

not from you creep

why are you stealing my underwear?

psycho stalker

cause you don’t give me shows anymore :(

they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?

you

you’re disgusting

psycho stalker

and you're up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me

you

I don't

gonna sleep now

please leave me alone

psycho stalker

sweet dreams princess

At that, she finally locks her phone; wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

One night she’s walking home from the grocery store, mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag as she’s messaging her friend who’s enthusiastically telling her the details of the kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages.  

Then completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone’s sturdy chest.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she's quick to apologize before she looks up and is met with blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps.  

They’re slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face, resulting in him raking a hand through the strands as his brows raise, almost like he's surprised. However, that wouldn't really make any sense since she's never seen him before, she figures. 

“S’all good. Wasn’t really looking either,” he rasps out as his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her; examining her every reaction. 

“No, it was really my fault. Shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and tries to step away from him and continue on with her journey. However, he halts her movements when he speaks up again.   

“Shouldn’t be walking alone this late either, you know. All kinds of creeps out here just waiting for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge to his voice that causes the hairs on her arms to stand.  

She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly. She thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but there’s something almost disturbing about his aura. 

“I know, but it’s really just a ten-minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.  

“Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” His offer comes out as something ominous rather than concern over her safety and the stillness of the darkened October sky surrounding them suddenly makes unease litter across her skin.  

“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though,” she politely declines and tries to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.  

“It’s past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists; seemingly not accepting no for an answer as his tone resembles more of a demand now. 

“O— okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she's just signed up her faith as his next victim. 

The murky sidewalk is quiet as they tread along it and she keeps glancing towards him every now and then; reassuring herself that a sharp knife or a gun hasn't magically appeared in his hand. 

Although, she thinks he wouldn't need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms. Under the obscurity provided by the old trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul would wither away from her lifeless eyes; getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.  

“Something on your mind?” His sudden question makes her jump. 

“N— no, nothing. I just— have we met before?” She hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.  

“Pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” his indistinct response is calm, too calm for her liking.  

“It's just that, um, it's a small neighborhood and I've never seen you around?” She flits her eyes over to him, trying to figure him out. 

“I don't live here,” his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the ambiguity of his answer not soothing her racing brain in the slightest.  

“Oh, okay...cool,” she peeps out; trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.  

A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth at her obvious nervousness and for some reason, he appears to be enjoying this; finding crooked entertainment in her dismay.  

He halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived at her destination.  

“How did you— how did you know this was my house?” She tentatively wonders. 

“Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that's nowhere near uplifting. 

She blinks. 

“Right, well, thanks for walking me...I’m gonna go now,” she squeaks out and takes a step towards the front yard.  

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he murmurs and her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname. 

“What did you just say?” Something dire bubbles up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu. 

“Just wished you a good night? You feeling alright?” He furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing but she notices something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes; almost like some sort of sick satisfaction.  

“I’m— I’m fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out as a crease forms between her brows and her breathing grows labored when his mouth curls into an almost sinister smirk.  

“You sure?”  

She flinches when he sets a heavy hand on her arm and he's suddenly all too close for comfort. 

“Y��� yes,” she tries to pull away. However, she unfortunately stumbles on her wobbly feet, nearly tumbling down on the harsh grass if not for his firm arms holding her upright by a grip on her waist. 

“Careful now, don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?” He scolds her with a click of his tongue; steadying her with an intrigued narrow of blue gemstones.  

“Sorry,” a breathy apology escapes past her lips as her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater. 

“Run along then, yeah?” He murmurs as he lets go of her along with a small push towards the right direction.   

Then she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her; trepidation clogging her lungs as she decides against glancing towards him once more, closing her front door and making sure it’s locked, twice. 

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

she is just a creepie creecher

[chaotic-cheshire]

[realkeylogger]

drew this instead of working on my computer

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[linterteatime]

Like a deer caught in headlights

[sailorsun546]

I have recently acquired this "rabbit" and we can't decide what to name her. She is a Jersey Wooly and everything in the world sticks to her fur.

She looks like shit right now but don't worry I'm brushing her every couple days and making sure she has plenty to eat. When I rescued her she was matted and a little under weight, but that's all being taken care of.

[rodatirhaalo]

I think my favorite little parallel between Ascended vs Spawn Astarion has to be this little, probably even unintentional, detail in the epilogue:

Mr Vampire Ascendant, when confronted about freedom, asking the pc if they'd prefer sleeping in the dirt over "living" in his prescribed decadence.

Meanwhile, if left as a spawn Astarion is like

*Passes several chairs, rugs, a pile of pillows, and two log benches to plant his pretty little ass in the dirt*

"THIS DIRT'S THE BEST! I LOVE DIRT!!"

[whydoeseveryonehavetobelesbian]

i don't know if you guys have been keeping up with the women's world cup but this past sunday spain won against england. and you would think this would be the best moment of their careers and their lives but you wanna know what happened?

the spanish football federation's president non-consensually kissed one of the players, jenni hermoso, on the mouth when they were celebrating. this grown ass man took it upon himself to ruin the celebration for ALL the women who just achieved the thing they have been preparing for all their lives, literally the peak of a football player's career, they did it and he by himself ruined it.

and i say all the women because the other players, along 58 currently inactive and ex-players, stood up for jenni hermoso and have refused to play for the team until luis rubiales publicly apologizes and renounces his spot. now the rfef says they'll take legal action against the players and jenni for lying and because they have an obligation to play for the team.

do you remember how the men's world cup celebrations went? i do, im from argentina. no one said anything to any of the players, they were treated like kings for months and they are worshipped to this day. and rightfully so! they earned it i guess. but we do see the discrepancy?

how is it that we allow as a society for one man to sexually assault a woman right after achieving the thing another group of men got ceaselessly venerated for not even a year later? what do women have to do to earn respect? win the world cup? become the pride and joy of their country?