Goddess of tentaculophobia

Coool great loook if creepy

The Goddess of Tentaculophobia had a serious problem: every time she was on a date with a guy she liked, her tentacles would sprout, and they weren’t exactly cute. On her latest date, everything was going fine—until she felt that familiar flutter in her chest. A smile, a laugh… and then it happened. Her tentacles burst through her skin, writhing and dripping with thick, black slime, snaking across the table with a sickening squelch. The poor guy froze, eyes wide in horror, as one of them wrapped around his drink and spilled it all over his lap. "Uh, sorry, this happens," she said, awkwardly trying to pull them back. "I just get... excited." He stared at the gooey mess now dripping down his leg, blinking in disbelief. "You know," he said, voice shaky, "I think I’m gonna go. This... this isn't really my vibe." She sighed, watching her tentacles slowly retract, leaving a trail of slime. "Great, another one bites the dust."