you know I love my big monster boys but where’s the love for like the junji-ito monsters? what about the humans that aren’t so human but aren’t immediately a hot demon or sexy fish beast? what about the actual scary humanoids??? sorry but I feel like that subcategory of teratophilia is waaaay to underrated

Ok, first of all thanks for making me aware of Junji Ito. I’m not too much into manga but the art looks great and I dig horror stories. So I’ll definitely check this out.

The thing is that I personally would classify stuff like that as horror. On tumblr teratophilia or monster love is mostly used to describe being horny on main for some monster dick (or pussy). At least that’s what I mean when I use these terms. I’m a simple gal.😋

I did a little searching and found tons of Junji Ito’s art and similar stuff here on tumblr. And judging by the notes it seems this art style is quite popular so I wouldn’t say these kind of monsters are an underrated subcategory of the teratophilia spectrum, they simply belong in a different genre. (I’m not quite sure if teratophilia is its own genre but gawwwd I wish it was…)

Anyway horror is fine by itself but I guess teratophilia means transforming the monsters of horror stories into love interests [insert long and well researched essay about sexual psychology and sociology here].

nyctophobia: fear of darkness

backstagerebelgirl:

in which a seemingly harmless blackout proves to be an experience you have never considered existing beyond horror films: a monster ensuing a morbid game of tormenting you while vulnerable.

* * *

Nichole has taken the liberty of your phone passcode to snap an atrocious selfie and appoint it as her own contact portrait. Truth be told, you don’t have the heart nor incentive to change it. It had taken time to ignore the scrutiny thrown your way, many times which consisted of ducking out of vicinity and of the like. At least her ringtone compensates for the source of embarrassment and entertainment. The wistful chorus of Patrick Swayze’s “She’s Like the Wind” echoes through the wood of your nightstand, a patterned vibration joining the melody. It’s tempting to ignore her call, especially since it’s already 11 p.m. on the night before a breakfast date with Mom.

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