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🩸Theo in her blood jacuzzi🩸

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Lisa Marie as Vampira

Ed Wood (1994) dir. Tim Burton

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The Return Of The Living Dead (1985)

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Fred Gwynne as Jud Crandall

Pet Sematary (1989) dir. Mary Lambert

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The Wicker Man 1973 | Robin Hardy

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ROTTEN-1

MIA(continued)

She looked into his too blue eyes, everyone in his family had those eyes, and those awful teeth that were nearly daggers. Only Cliff was missing a few. Two eye teeth, his upper left and his bottom right. It didn’t make him any less attractive to her. He was handsome in a disheveled sort of way, lean and tall and there was something unnatural about him even before she knew what he was capable of. It drew her to him. She shivered involuntarily when he grinned at her. An odd smile that told her he’d seen death and wasn’t afraid of it. Except when it came to her. “I don’t want anything happening to you.” She could feel his breath on her neck as he tried to make up for the fact he hadn’t pleased her the way she’d wished. Mia relented and let him rest his head on her shoulder, still itching for more. These nights were making her grow impatient. At first just a little glimpse into death…into the abyss had been enough. Now it seemed she couldn’t go deep enough. She wondered how he managed. “We’ve never gone that far before.” Sometimes he sounded like a virgin and she found herself smirking at the thought. Cliff continued to kiss her, first her aching head, then her face and shoulders. He’d pressed his head so deeply into her that she could feel the balls of his eyebrow piercings, the ones that lay directly in the center of each eyebrow, glide smoothly across her sweat dampened skin. Mia closed her eyes, playing gently with the soft curly locks of his raven hair. She touched his warm forehead, but her mind was elsewhere. If his brother could do the same, she conspired bitterly, she would go to him instead. Mia was amused by the very idea. Mikey’s eccentric hobbies made him an interesting friend, but there was something he kept guarded beneath his welcoming demeanor. A secret that Cliff kept hidden from her too. Honestly, despite the secrets, Mia quite liked Mikey. Strange as he was. Just like Cliff, she was drawn to him. Still, Cliff was loyal to his younger brother almost to a fault. It was a trait she admired in him as much as she had started to despise him for. She knew he’d kill for his family. Would never give them up. Especially that brother…and that awful overbearing grandmother of his too. She wrinkled her nose as Cliff sucked on one of her fingers. She avoided that woman at all costs. In the few interactions she’d had with that crippled old crone it was clear they hadn’t liked one another. That was fine with Mia. At least they could agree on that. Mia understood though. The old woman didn’t want anyone taking her boys away. But why?…Mia pondered as Cliff kissed down her breasts slowly, savoring her… Their Grandma didn’t really seem to like either of them much. Yet she was at the same time so protective over them. Mia found the whole family dynamic strange. Her thoughts were caught short as Cliff made it down to her thighs. She sighed again, deciding to quit thinking so much and let herself enjoy the moment. —

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ROTTEN-1

MIA The feeling of standing on the brink of death was exquisite. There was nothing that could compare. Mia let herself be taken by the stream as Cliff brought her closer and closer to the other side, the abyss, knowing with a little too much push she would be lost to death forever. That was the thrill. She urged him on. “Just a little more.” She could feel Cliff ’s anxiety, they’d never gone this deep before, at least he hadn’t with her. She bit his lip hard, she needed more this time. Cliff groaned, and suddenly Mia was pulled deeper into the shadows of twilight. She was starting to forget who she was, where her body began and ended. She was nothing. Everything. This is what it would feel like to die. Mia sighed, elated. Then as soon as it began it was over as Cliff pulled her out and she was once more back in the small dimly lit bedroom of her home. She was sitting atop Cliff bolt upright as the shock of life went through her once more. Her head began to throb, “You pulled me out too soon.” Cliff kissed her, rolling her off of him before pressing her to his side, the gravelly lilt of his voice tinged with the faintest trace of fear, “That was far enough.” He looked exhausted, more pallid than ever. His skin always reminded Mia of the corpses she’d seen in photos. Waxy. Unwell on the best of days. Recently her skin had taken on the same pallor. The consequences of dancing so close to death itself. Worth it if you asked her. And Cliff could never refuse her. At least not until tonight.

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robert smith and the cure for propaganda magazine no. 19, september 1992.

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I draw every day, yet the horrors persist.

[guy who hasnt drawn in a few weeks voice] yeah the world is horrible and life is agony

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This story I just finished somehow evolved from just smut to splatter punk to sort of a twisted horror/fantasy with a whole lotta lore-- I have no idea what genre this is any more.

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Broke out my sketchbook after writing just because I haven't drawn these characters in ages and wanted to see them on paper again

Cliff sure does love the dead.

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Mikey and his eccentric choice in snacks.

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I finished the first draft of a book I've been working on since the beginning of this year.

This is the album I was listening to on repeat while writing it.

Idk why-- every story needs mood music