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#monsters under the bed
thatdoodlebug · 4 months
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old doodle
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microsff · 1 year
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"I need a hug," she whispered. "We are monsters," came the gravelly reply from under her bed. "Yes, but you're my monsters. Everybody needs monsters on their side." "You shouldn't have to." "No. Can you change that?" Silence. Then: "Close your eyes." It was a good hug. "Thanks."
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jikangairodo · 4 months
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i love reading about muses discovering they can see curses and how they deal with it because nanami was like this:
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weepingfoxfury · 2 months
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There are ghosts beneath the bed, in the wardrobe, behind the curtains ... even in the potted plant that sits in the sink in the corner of the bedroom. Lying in bed, gazing at the paisley pattern on the curtains, the light shining through, imagination giving life to the flowers and fronds changing them into writhing serpents. The duvet is pulled further and further up, breathing quickens, eyes keep watch.
The light is fading now, the curtains lie still and the other monsters begin their tiny taps and bumps and thumps. The torch goes on beneath the bedclothes ... as long as there's light there's safety. Then the rustling can be heard. Breathing becomes more shallow, straining to hear, trying to desperately work out the direction of the noise. Panic is building, getting hotter and sweatier. The rustling continues ... on and on and on ... eyes so very wide. Must ... do ... something.
Must be brave, must be brave.
Decision finally made. The duvet is eased back, feet gingerly find the floor, torch clutched tightly, the beam erratic with the body's shaking. Trying to hear the noises above the fast breathing. Torchlight finally comes to rest on the spider plant in the sink. Wait ... wait ... aaaaand, that's where it is. Inching forwards, a bit more, a bit more and shine the light into the foliage. Spiders scuttle.
One hand reaches forwards, lifts the plant.
Two little eyes, one tiny nose, small paws, twitching whiskers, all are moving as the mouse pops it's head out. There is shrieking at the surprise ... the plant is dropped ... the mouse is gone and the child is racing for the bedroom light switch.
Light bathes the room ... ghosts and monsters have fled ... someone is hurrying along the corridor ... help is on the way.
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caseysbell · 5 months
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uschi-the-listener · 1 year
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I never loved him
I never knew him
That was a lock
That never had a key
All he brought
To that family
Was fear and pain
But especially
Shame
He may have been
Shameless
He never said
We never had
Monsters under the bed
We had him
I wish he had lived
Under the bed
He would not have fit
He was huge
Terrifying
Bigger than me
Bigger than anyone
Bigger than the whole house
He is dead now
Though he lives in
Nightmares
Triggers
Phobias
Imagine a creature
Whose joy comes from
Scaring and hurting
Soft tiny bodies
A girl in my class was crying
Her parents were divorcing
Her father had to
Move out
I didn't understand
Either she was faking
Or trying to impress me
For arcane reasons of her own
Maybe that wasn't
Her real
Father
Maybe her monsters
Lived under the bed
.
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spookcataloger · 1 month
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Dondo (2020)
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There’s a boy who sleeps in the bed above me. I think he’s too old (or perhaps too young) to believe in the monsters under his pillow, or maybe he forgot about us; hiding in the shadows, out of sight for so long. I know he must have, because sometimes he likes to sleep with his arm hanging over the edge (no one who knows us does that).
Most of the time I keep away, he doesn’t need another darkness taking his hand, creeping at the corners of his dreams. But perhaps I am a little selfish. Tired of hiding in the shadows under beds, tired of everyone holding their limbs close in fear... and it’s been so long since I had a hand to hold. Maybe it was his willing trust, that even if we existed (which he might not believe in anyway), the demons under his bed wouldn’t consume him if given the chance. Maybe it was my curiosity to see what would happen if he had no choice but to believe. And maybe I did want to consume him, just a little bit. I must have wanted to test his trust, to see if it was indeed trust, or merely ignorance that caused him to let down his guard. Who knows the “why’s” and “maybes”, it doesn’t matter now. I reached out my darkness and took his hand.
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I'm a little bit of shader math and some asset prep away from actually producing pages again and I'm so excited 🥺
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I finally gave in and accepted even with all the cool new stuff I've built for myself I needed to simplify the style more to make production feasible long term with my health(and recently work load) being so unpredictable. I think I'm pretty happy with this overall ^^
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kawaii-cosplay · 1 year
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🎼Cathy🎼
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ihatemen55 · 1 year
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fantastic micropastas
warnings: cannibalism, murder, demons/possession, kidnapping, body parts, im not sure what else its just a bunch of spooky storys (not sure if they even counts as storys)
As I hug my wife, I think to myself that she smells so good. Leaving her in the oven an extra ten minutes was a great idea.
Everyone in my family says I have my mother's eyes. I also have her face, and her heart, and her skull.
I asked my daughter why she threw her favorite doll away. She held up her arm and said, "She bites."
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my firstborn child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, sleeping next to me.
I begin tucking my son into bed and he tells me, "Mommy, check for monsters under my bed." I look underneath for his amusement and find my son hiding under the bed, staring back at me and he whispers in a quivering voice, "Mommy, there's somebody on my bed."
I can't remember the last time I ate this well. If only my meal would stop screaming.
I couldn't sleep so I got up to get a glass of water, but I dropped it when I saw myself sleeping. I woke up to the sound of glass breaking and cold water on the floor.
Don't read the next sentence. When you read the last word, I die.
The source I got these micropastas from didnt have any credits to the creators so all credits to the original authors.
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delphinidin4 · 2 years
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I don’t worry about monsters under the bed anymore since we removed the bedframe and put my box spring and mattress directly on the floor.
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microsff · 1 year
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"Why are you here?" she asked one evening. "We are fear," one of the monsters under the bed growled at last. "We are the dark, unknown." "I'm not afraid of you." "We know. We should leave, find another child, another bed." "Oh no! Please stay!" "There. That is why we are here."
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dougielombax · 2 months
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You know the expression about monsters under the bed.
Well.
The devil checks under his bed every night out of fear that Balan might be there.
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tears-that-heal · 6 months
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Oh Yes! Teddy bears are our childhood heroes!!! 😉
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🧸❤️🛌
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When is the last time you sat or lay under a table or bed? I used to do that a fair amount when I was a kid. If I was still small, I'd continue to spend time under there. I'd also probably vacuum and clean the floors more often, too. (No, I wouldn't. Gremlins thrive in their own filth, and I am no exception.)
Nonetheless, I think the only real downside to considering making adjustments to tables and beds for more fort and play spaces is that the monsters under the bed wouldn't like how roomy it is and move away. (I like to think that they find smaller spaces a comfort, like getting bundled in lots of blankies.)(Yes, I wrote 'blankies', and I will not apologize for it.)
After all, they only ever wanted to play and get to know you. And what's the fun in having more play space without friends to share it with?
Not to mention, the underside of a tabletop is the perfect place for drawings and stickers. Or whatever ever other form of arts and/or crafts you'd want. No one would get to see it unless you invited them into your 'secret' fort, besides the monsters of course, but the monsters that take up the role of art critic are very responsible; they won't say anything just to hurt your feelings (usually).
I guess what I'm sort of getting at is, adulthood needs more childhood to remind us of the little artistic gremlins, or math-loving wizards, or storytelling adventurers , or whatever other kinds of people we each are within ourselves, I think. I dunno. Food for thought, I guess.
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