The First Year (An Arcane Drabble)

slasher horror: you better not have premarital sex or gerald "the stabber" douglas is gonna getcha

creepypasta: once there was a teen named alex and he was bullied so hard that he and the acid disfigured him so and he started killing everyone so they call him george the attacker

/x/: there was the skinwalker who stole my best friend's voice and then man door hand hook car door

r/nosleep: my wife was hungry for raw meat and then she gave birth to The Satan. he looked me in the eyes and said "don't go outside past midnight or else the eyeless ones might notice." but it turns out i never had a wife or son and the world ended 5 years ago on this very night.

r/twosentencehorror: i ran out of bloodmilk for my cereal. luckily, the creature provides.

mascot horror: this is silly wiggles, the candy giraffe! explore the silly wiggles candy emporium after dark! the secret ingredient is Love™! also the hidden video tapes will reveal that "Love™" is actually the copyright name for the consciousness of tortured children, mixed with the ground organs of factory workers.

indie horror: i can't describe this, there are only 7 pixels so idk what's going on

I love the paintball scene in the show, I really do. But I need to speak my truth and that is:

This scene is SO much funnier in book-verse. For real. If you haven't read it, this is one scene I wish they'd kept more of in the show.

These two idiots think they've legitimately been shot and that they are actively in the process of dying in a way that only beings that have never actually been discorporated would.

They spend literally several minutes ON THE GROUND, Crowley propped against a statue and Aziraphale literally falls on his ass into a Rhododendron bush.

Not until Crowley realizes their 'blood' is not the right color and tastes it(because of course that's what one does when they think they're bleeding out) does he consider there may be something else going on. And after which he still CRAWLS over to share this newly discovered information with Bushziraphale.

Not a day goes by when I don't think about joe many liberals

Are we still friends

Johnny who gets once in a blue moon migraines that knock him on his ass.

Johnny waking up cocooned in blankets, warm and hazy, alone, Ghost already gone for his morning run around base. Otherwise he'd have his partner imitating an octopus, wrapped around Johnny like there was any possibility of him willingly escaping into the night.

Instead, he stretches under the body-warm sheets to try and relieve the kink in his lower back. It doesn't help much.

He rolls out of bed to begin his day and, upon checking his watch on the night stand table, curses, hurrying through his morning ablutions and out of the barracks toward the kitchen. Ghost must have turned off his alarm to let him sleep a bit longer but Johnny has slept in far later than he usually does with only twenty minutes before the team debrief.

Coffee is too sharp in his nose, makes his stomach roil, knows it's a mistake as soon as he pours a full cup. Keeps it anyway because it's warm. Adding creamer doesn't help, tastes off on his tongue, too pungent, too acidic, the usual two teaspoons of sugar too heavy on his tongue. Ghost notices (he's come in for a tea) but doesn't say anything, watching Johnny's nose scrunch adorably and allowing himself to be used as support when Johnny sags back against his chest, drained.

Aura starts to creep over his vision during the meeting, looking at the projector is hard, his eyes won't focus, keep sliding away to dislodge the spots in his vision. Coffee abandoned, stomach clenching tighter, a bone deep throbbing begins behind his left eye socket. He wants to scoop his eyes out and massage the bone tissue until it stops pulsing.

Meeting wraps up, Johnny is bombarded with the scents of many bodies in a confined space; even freshly showered ones are too much. The florescent lights are too bright and too loud, people's voices are becoming muffled. His notes, when he checks, squinting, are shaky and completely illegible in some places. He quickly flips his notebook closed, tries to stand. Remembers he has recruit training today and desperately asks Gaz to cover. Gaz is concerned, tries to play it normal with a bit of teasing (even as he can see something is wrong) and asks why. Johnny says his head hurts, Gaz cracks a joke or Price says something like "push through it" and Johnny abruptly realizes he's going to hurl in the next five seconds: saliva flooding his mouth, arms going numb, stomach a clenched fist. Ghost shoves the room's wastebasket in front of him before he can throw up on Gaz's boots. Spits up watery coffee and bile. Shivers wrack his frame as he hugs the trashcan for dear life.

Price sends him back to his room after Johnny fights going to medical, he knows what's happening, what he needs is a pitch dark room and peace and quiet (and a handful of extra strength Excedrin). Ghost cups Johnny's neck, leads him down the hall back to their room once he can set down the trashcan without fear of gagging, Johnny with his eyes closed. He trusts Ghost. Doesn't care about potential rumors flying around base in this moment. Everyone knows they're a package deal anyway.

Johnny crawls back into bed as Ghost grabs him a glass of water, makes him drink the whole thing slowly before refilling it and placing two pills in his palm. Sits by Johnny's hip after closing the blackout curtains as the man snuggles back down under the blankets. Begins kneeding Johnny's tense shoulder and neck muscles, Johnny melting into the pillow from the heat and pressure, muscles gradually loosening. Johnny shoves his head into Ghost's hip, has the dual purpose of expressing his affection and gratitude but also puts pressure against his aching forehead.

Eventually, Johnny tugs at Ghost's hoodie, his bleary eyes silently begging Ghost to stay. Ghost kicks off his boots, belt, and jacket, rolls Johnny closer to the wall and pulls him close, protecting Johnny's balled up form. Johnny shoves his head under Ghost's chin, grumbles until Simon huffs a laugh, pulls his balaclava off. Johnny hums in appreciation, drifts into a light doze listening to Simon's breathing, the bigger man running his fingers through Johnny's hair down to his neck in a circuit, blunt nails dragging a pleased hum from his partner. Watches over Johnny as he sleeps safely, trustingly, in his arms.

that is a mous

I was thinking about tangled and good omens at the same time and this renaissance femme aziracrow happened

personally i think more people should consider freckled ghost

autism is a real person his name is ogata hyakunosuke

me when the shape in the middle of the road that I’ve already started pre mourning as roadkill turns out to be a shoe