#headers terror

[dumpitos]

horror movies headers - spookytos 👻

[cyriledits]

Spooky/ autumn headers

fav or reblog if u save

[monstersedit]

ABIGAIL (2024)

[mondlevan]

maxxxine headers

“♡” or reblog if you save/use — follow me.

twt: @szamofada

july 5 in all theaters🔪

[arcticclimes]

[iconsfinder]

[thecenobites]

             ♉︎ ₊memória das onze n°1, feat @cassolopando and @vampiricoo

[boatswainer]

Canvas man-hauling harness allocated to HMS Terror (1813)

[asundering]

the popstar princess gets startled: Dead in her tracks. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes go wide, a trembling hand holding onto the hem of her skirt. The other releases her purse as it falls with a soft 'thud' on the ground. Terrified she looks the other over a few times. Tears start welling up in her eyes. "S-SCARY DRUG DEALER!" She bellows out as she ducks down, arms covering her head. "PLEASE DON'T HURT ME MISTER CRIMINAL!!" @dolls-runeterran-dollhouse

Even without being drenched in running makeup, Kayn knew their visage could be intimidating to meeker people. Because that's exactly how they liked it. They didn't have time for anyone who couldn't handle something a little out of the ordinary, unafraid to stand out from the crowd. But scaring the populace while stomping around in their boots hadn't been a goal today, it hardly even crossed their mind as they finished their errands through the mall. Having gathered dinner and snack supplies for tonight's session, Kayn was badgering their bandmate with a flurry of annoying messages as the other shoppers were sure to keep out of their way. So when a body in their peripheral vision comes to a standstill, it draws their eyes up from their screen. And then her squealing halts their march entirely.

Her reaction to - what, just the sight of them? - is something to behold, brows raised and lips pulled into a grimace. But worst of all is her false declaration; they really don't need to be accused of being a dealer or a criminal. Did this happen to everyone she ran into with a bit of ink? Wearing some dark clothes? Kayn could have easily passed this dramatic scene with a roll of their eyes. But that incorrect nickname gets teeth grinding together, and threatens to ruin their good mood. With a daring step forward, Kayn leans over her, dark locks and leather framing their patronising response, "... Oh no, a cutesy, chronically online trend-chaser. Please don't record me! The hell's your problem?" Dropping the imitation with a biting conclusion, their posture straightens. Scowling down at the pathetic display, they cant their head and give her a final warning,

"Pick yourself up and piss off."

[is2lutavio]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏🫙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⏜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀୨ৎ

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏zackary's packs

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏like if you use ' 🦪

[lilygilded]

idk how to say this really but thank you everyone for all the love on my fitzjames art. i never expected it to get as much attention as it has and i am truly moved by how much people like it. i’ve always struggled with finding worth in my art and so i share it rarely but the outpouring of love has incredible. it’s also been so nice to see people as excited about fitzjames/the terror/etc as i am. it means so much to me and i’m so happy i was able to add to your enjoyment of it. thank you <3

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[ladiesources]

like or reblog if your save/use ❤︎

[projectsbytheday]

🔖 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.

hi, hello! this is a sideblog of my mainblog where i want to share projects i've worked on since i don't have anyone to share them with.

i will hyperfixate on certain things and spend an ungodly amount of time on them. for no good reason and with no disernable pattern/schedule. sometimes, it's just practice. sometimes, it's just escapism at work.

however, common things you may find here would be:

comic characters from dc or marvel

movie/tv shows i may or may not enjoy

foodstuff bc they're pretty in pixel art form

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: #pixel art #gifs #manips #gfx

[httpsserene]

Hello!! I hope you have drank a lot of water today and I hope you are having a good day! I was wondering if you could do a Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen x reader where they just have a soft cuddle? Maybe it reads to smth more spicy? That part is completely up to you :)

𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐦𝐯. 𝟏 & 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. missing u ash < 3 i wish i could go back in time and fulfill your requests when you were still active on tumblr. now, i'm borderline crying when i scroll through my inbox and see your name :( wherever you are irl, i hope you're sipping the crispiest, ice-cold arizona green tea to ever exist xxx

(don't ask about the pics i chose for the header, it's past my bedtime. enjoy reading, loves)

you’re roused awake by the sound of the shower shutting off, confusion sparking through your sleepy synapses at the feeling of pressure on your chest and the absence of warmth on your right side. you snuffle lowly, stretching your body underneath the comforter with a yawn, jostling the weight on your chest.

max’s groan rumbles through your skin, displeased by your sudden shifting. his arm tightens around your waist, stilling your movement and you languidly blink heavy eyelids open to see that the pressure is max’s head pillowed on your breasts, covered by the white duvet. silencing a snort, you slip a hand underneath the covers to rub along his bare back, his tense frame relaxing under your gentle caress as he settles back into his slumber. you were expecting the weight to be one of the cats huddling close for warmth; sassy being the most common culprit of forcing her owners awake by acting as a fourteen-pound paperweight.

the bathroom door clicks open and charles steps into the room clad in cream sweatpants. he towels off the last few droplets of water sliding down his hairline and the contours of his chest, sending you a quiet smile when your eyes meet. blowing him a kiss, you pat on his empty side of the bed, urging him to rejoin the two of you under the early morning haze filtering through the curtains. charles discards his towel on the dresser (later, you’ll chirp at him for not hanging it up to dry properly) and climbs into bed next to you, shimmying downward to lie by your side and pecks your lips, one, two, three, four times before pulling away.

he chuckles breathily, “you have morning breath, mon ange.”

you scrunch your nose, using your free hand to gesture at the puddle of max pinning you to the bed, “i guess i can leave you to deal with our prickly boyfriend when i wake him up by moving to brush my teeth.”

charles feigns terror, before giggling it away as he presses kisses along your jaw. he slides underneath the covers, adding his legs to the tangled mess of yours and max’s, one of his arms snaking under your form to tug you as close as possible. the readjustment causes a rough grunt to sound from the duvet; max rolls off you, pushing himself upwards on his forearm to peak out of the cocoon he’s built for himself, sending a glare that’s more like a sulky pout as it’s distorted by his sleep-swollen cheeks and eyes.

his voice is croaky, “be quiet and hug me.”

“of course, your majesty,” you tease.

“désolé, mon chat,” charles coos.

max huffs, thoroughly communicating his disdain at the overly sweet titles. you and charles know better than to comment on the red flush of his ears. kindly, he allows you to crawl out of bed to brush your teeth, snuggling into charles’s chest to keep warm in the meantime. 

you return, spooning his frame, consequently bracketing him in between you and charles, and max falls back to sleep in a handful of silent minutes. charles yawns midway into whispering about how his run went and you mimic the behavior subconsciously. the two of you decide to postpone breakfast for brunch, considering max’s desperation for a couple more hours of sleep. charles’s hand squeezes yours around max’s body, and the warmth of satisfaction blooming at the nape of your neck from the skin-to-skin contact tells you that all the plans for today will be pushed back, for the sake of a few more hours of cuddling.

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© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos used in header are from pinterest.

[iconsfinder]