this came to me at 2 a.m.

The rest is confetti.

(My Hero Academia x The Haunting of Hill House)

Had a particularly violent revelation about what AFOhouse reminds me of a couple days ago and decided I had to make this.

editing midwesternisms out of fic but you’re writing smut so “are you gonna go down on me or no?” has to go :/

what if 1987 mona lisa was a teensy bit butch. as a treat. for me.

she borrows a suit from the turtles. it's dreadfully lumpy but only until raphael swoops in with a mouthful of safety pins, humming what can only be described as a ditty.

clothes were too much bother, before. just once she tried to wear a dress like the human girl she used to be; it made her feel even more like an alien in a fake body. like a pet lizard that some toddler dressed up. like her body wasn't hers.

which was, and is, arguably true, but mona had better things to do than stand there and feel it all sharp in her chest like that. people to save, piratical careers to extinguish. she left the dress behind.

the suit works, though.

maybe it's raphael's humming, utterly confident and absorbed in his self-appointed task. or maybe it's the fact that the suit is a new look; she's trying on a new self. the suit is a character choice, as is the way she carries herself in it, standing a little taller with a jaunty tilt to her chin. she rakes a hand through her hair.

somehow, like this, the green could be a character choice, too.

The Haunting of Sleep Manor (Sleep Token Haunted House AU)

very very excited to start sharing this series!! the first chapter will be posted by the end of this week (hopefully tomorrow). i've been having a lot of fun writing it, so here's a little teaser 👻🖤

edit: Chapter I can be found over here or on ao3 if you prefer!

They didn’t have much in the way of worldly possessions, so all of their belongings packed neatly into one moving truck. The four vessels of Sleep squished together in the cab as they barreled down the quiet country road. Vessel was humming along to the radio, II lightly drumming along with his fingers against his thigh. IV’s mind had wandered off, his eyes slightly glazed over as he took in the passing scenery, III snoring against his shoulder. At last, they could see the wrought iron gates of Langley Manor, their new home looming at the end of the drive beyond. Vessel veered off the road, pulling up to the gates and shifting the truck into park, causing III to stir from his slumber.

Vessel hopped out of the driver’s door, unlocking the padlock with one of the many keys from the keyring he’d received from the realtor’s office the day before. The old house came with a ridiculous number of keys, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the various secrets it had locked away. Sleep wouldn’t have selected just any home, he was sure there was something more to this place than meets the eye. He pushed the gates open at last, quickly making his way back to the truck. The gravel driveway crunched beneath the tires as they neared Langley Manor, the vast expanse of land that came with the home sprawling out in luscious greens behind it. Vessel could hardly believe that he was finally here, that any of this was real. But the excited chatter from the others indicated to him that not only was it very real, it was just as amazing as he’d imagined it to be.

(original headcanons can be found here ☺️)

Going from Funger to reading Beserk for the first time is really funny actually

It's like slowly peeling away the layers of reskin and whenever you think you're done it's just: Ha HA! Fantasy Vatican is from Beserk too!!

Love it, this is deeply improving my reading experience :D

art for "Beans of various types" I feel like something bad is going to happen to me.

I feel like something bad has happened.

It hasn’t reached me yet, but it’s on its way.

And it’s getting closer.

And I don’t feel ready.

I feel like I can’t do anything.

--Lake Mungo (2008)

What a lovely day to be young, handsome and doomed by the narrative!

okay y'all can make fun of me for this if you want but i had a dream last night

and i woke up wanting to CRY.

that i was basically in a fantasy novel with a whole adventuring party and everything, and myself and one of the other party members were very in love, but the problem was that this guy was basically the equivalent of a fire genasi from dnd (except he looked nothing like that) and he was quite literally extremely hot to the touch (like, painfully so) and at one point we were having a sweet moment and he tried to place his hand on my cheek but it burned me, and he felt so bad about it and very sadly said "If I loved you less, perhaps I could touch you more."

implying that the heat he gave off was amplified by how much he loved me.

I saw this panel again and what clicked was that Garaki has definitely done something worse to Touya than just giving him skin grafts. Similar to how nomus are created with dead people dabi has body parts from dead children at the orphanage he later wakes up at. It's being hinted that he went through atleast some part of the nomu procedure too.

Sooo I'm thinking what if? The fact that he has those dead body parts makes him crazier? Unlike nomus who's minds are gone his mind is still his own but that knowledge makes him see himself as a walking corpse even more? He isn't completely Touya anymore. Sort of like not seeing your body as your own anymore. And he's 16 at the time mentally only 13 since he's been in a coma for 3 years. He tries going back home convincing himself this isn't true but seeing his own altar probably confirms that he's dead. I AM UNWELL.

But but but this isn't completely an angst post. The hope of seeing his family again stopped him from becoming a nomu. Thinking they didn't love him made him suicidal. The former is something positive atleast. They said the body would disintegrate in a few months but he's 24 and still alive LOL the spite. It gives me some hope about his story atleast.

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) / Peaky Blinders (2013-2022)

isatcord got this so I'll just drop this family bonds thing here too teehee

morning toddheads

Sometimes, when the kids asked Wolfwood if Heaven really did exist, he found himself pausing. Sure, he believed in it, but it felt hard to look at their little faces and give them an answer of something he could not back up with proof.

But, then, one day, he felt it. He felt it sharply.

Vash and Wolfwood were entangled with each other, kissing and touching and exploring, whilst wrapped in Vash's big, beautiful wings. They felt warm and soft against Wolfwood's naked skin, as he tossed his head back at the feeling of Vash's experienced hands wandering his body.

The cool, natural scent of the ethereal feathers filled his senses, mingling with the floral smell that always clung to Vash like a perfume. From the aromas, to the sensations, to Vash's hands and kisses, the taste of him on his lips, it became too much. Every different feeling hit him and filled him, until he overflowed and clung to Vash's body with desperate, trembling hands.

"Nicholas, Nicholas," Vash whispered, pressing lips softly to the corner of Wolfwood's mouth, as those pristine wings curled further around his shaking body, "I'm so in love with you."

That was Heaven.

His Heaven.

He smiled, and answered the children after that day with confidence. "Yes."

Some attempts at a design for Selena :3. The second image is inspired by the wedding in Haunted Castle, but I changed Simon’s outfit cause idk I just can’t picture him being comfortable in a suit.

The last two of these are way more headcanon-y lol. They’re under a cut mostly in case my headcanons and story ideas change d(^^ ). One of them was inspired by a Kikuo song I was listening to while drawing lol, the song “Let’s Go to Heaven”.

"I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them. So what, so what, so fucking what. I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high When only shitting was dirty and everything else clean and beautiful. I can't remember anything without a sadness so deep that it hardly becomes known to me. so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY And so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny no. How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don't really know who I'm writing to or why its quiet [sic] peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it, but if I post it it's like a little part of my almost secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don't care really what happens because when I think about it, its so bloody unimportant – but what is important, who has the right to say that this letter is not important and Jesus is a something anyway – in any way – anyway – Yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet its great. Er how are you keeping, Stuart old chap. Are you OK – is life good – bad, shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing, and coalmen on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don't write out of – er, what's it? Well, not because you think you ought to. Write when you feel like. So goodbye (from John. You know, the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE See you soon. I don't know why I said that."

– An unsent letter from John Lennon for Stuart Sutcliffe (1961)

i love you ghost stories that are really just about the anger deep within ourselves i love you ghost stories that are about grief i love you ghost stories about how moving on is difficult i love you ghost stories about how sometimes being angry is the closest we get to feeling alive i love you ghost stories about how love is a powerful enough force to keep the dead walking in the land of the living i love you ghost stories about how the real horrors are the ones that we keep locked up in our heads and our hearts i love you ghost stories i love you ghost stories i love you ghost stories i love you ghost stories i love y