#i wanted to write something

[got-ticket-to-ride]

[penpaperandbooks]

Saptiya?

The sun beat down relentlessly on me as I made my way back to the train station. No matter how long I had spent here in Chennai, the heat always sucks the life out of me.

Wiping my forehead, I wait for the train as I feel my kurti get wetter and wetter from my sweat. The train reached the station and people clambered in before it stopped, pushing others out of the way.

Elbowing and pushing my way in, I find a seat on the outermost edge of a row of such seats. Holding my bag close, I shimmy in, trying to not fall off when the train starts moving.

The smell of sweaty, dusty bodies coupled with the heat was nothing new, but somehow this time it made me want to throw up.

The crowd who pushed me onto the train were kind enough to push me out as they hurried on in their endless journey to get somewhere, leaving me frazzled.

Stopping an auto, I get in and fan myself with the edge of my dupatta, trying to dispel the hot air only in vain. The auto turns into a cool side street with huge trees blocking the sun.

People speed by on their scooters, always in a rush. I can almost see myself in them, a few decades younger, in the same rush to go somewhere and do something with my life.

A rueful smile crosses my face. The thought of how much I had missed in my hurry threatens to sadden me, but I shake away the thoughts.

Oh well, there wasn't much two girls in love could do in 1973.

It rumbles to a stop and I scramble out, paying the driver his dues. Looking around, I catch sight of a small, unassuming house at the end of the street.

I ring the number I have ready on my phone. It barely rings before the person answers it.

"You're here?" she asks breathlessly. A blush spreads across my cheeks at the sound of her voice.

"Mhm," I mutter, embarrassed at how excited I am to see her. "Where are you?" I ask, looking around to catch sight of her.

"Wait, I'm coming," she says and I hear a door opening in the background, in sync with the door of a house a few steps ahead of me.

Aruna steps out onto the street, her face as flushed as mine. She was still fixing her hastily thrown-on dupatta when she saw me, eyes widening.

Like a teenager, I grin as wide as I can, feeling my face heat up and my fingertips tingle with joy. Her salt-and-pepper hair flutters in the slight breeze, mirroring mine.

Like someone who's forgotten how to walk, my legs feel heavy, frozen to the ground until she smiles, reassuring me with her whole being. She takes a step towards me and it jolts me awake.

Finally, finally, I run over and hug her as tight as I can. She erupts into giggles, hugging me back tightly, swaying from side to side. As if in a dream we hug tight, almost making up for lost time.

But she smells the same, the street smells the same, and the same little house at the end of the street is still there. The only thing that's changed is us, with a few more wrinkles.

When we finally let go, I can only focus on her wide grin -- same as mine -- and her eyes still full of the same love and I ask, "Saptiya?"

[backtraf]

The last thing Tim remembered, before taking a hit to the head, was walking through a door and seeing a giant mound of flesh with limbs jutting out every which way. He ran in, immediately swinging his axe at it. All sense flew put the window in that moment. He hated to admit it, but he panicked.

He was fighting the damn thing when he heard a voice behind him.

"Get down, son!"

When did his dad get here? He dropped to the ground and looked back at him. It was indeed his father. He and Kelvin had been stranded for a few months at this point, so of course, his father would come looking. His dad blasted the thing with a shotgun, and it hissed out a loud squeal of pain. Another shot rang out and a bullet caught in his father's shoulder, causing him to yell out and drop the shotgun. A group of people behind them stormed in, weapons raised in a threat. The mutant flesh mound roared out and swung its limb out, catching Tim on the side of his head and sending him to the ground, unconscious.

He didn't know how long he had been out, but he woke with a gasp and looked around, his head throbbing in pain. Sitting up, he brought a hand to his head and grimaced. With a quick look around, he saw that he was alone and his dad was no where to be found.

"Dad?" Panic and fear settled into his bones. His father was hurt and missing. The monster that they had been fighting was now blocking his only known exit. "Dad!"

Tears sprung into his eyes. With a few deep breaths, he was able to gain back control of his breathing, and he turned to look down the dark corridor where he heard the moans of those faceless things and the other grotesque mutations. With a deep breath, he lifted his flashlight and lit the way. He had to find a different way out and find his dad.

[pawnyx]

There’s a billion poems that only make sense to us, written in the words of experience and time that only the little few can capture

There’s a billion words no one else has ever read, strung across the little strings in the morning, and set to bed at night

There’s a billion sunsets that no one will ever see

And a billion that no one ever saw.

[blamsart]

Excerpt of Anxiety

Here I am, back to my thoughts

They've been fermenting and waiting

To cover me in the grave of my past

With a gas mask of angsty melancholy

[auroragehenna]

I'll do anything for you-to see you smile

Non-canon/timeline – Lyra&Adam

TW: Female whumpee's, multiple whumpee's, sadistic whumper, creepy whumper, forced to beg, self-sacrifice, implied torture (whipping deluxe) Word count: 1‘289

Lyra just looked up at Adam in absolute confusion and shock when he walked into the pool hall with a bound, gagged, and blindfolded person. She could not comprehend what was happening.

Adam pushed the girl into the pool and she crash landed on the metal floor. "Hold on to that for me for a second, will you."

A squeezed whimper made its way past the makeshift gag. of the girl. Lyra, who had previously jumped up, instantly bolted towards the girl, only slowing down when she was right in front of her. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay, I'm just gonna untie you."

The girl was still squirming and crying while Lyra made quick work at untying her. She first removed the blindfold to give her back her sight and at least some control. The girl's green, terrified eyes met her own brown ones. She was doing her best to hide her own fear from her, giving her a warm half-smile. This is most definitely a trap; you know that. Her brain voice warned. I know, but I won’t leave her like this! Not ever! She thought back. Then she had untied her and carefully helped her up. The girl didn’t look injured, aside from a few cut wounds on her cheek and arms. And Lyra could tell, from knowing Adam, that those were inflicted solely for aesthetic. Rage bubbled up in her but she pushed it down. She helped the girl to the middle of the basin and tried to calm her down. “What’s your name?”

“Holly.”

“Holly, what a pretty name, it’s a beautiful plant!”

“So pointy though.”, she joked nervously.

“True. And still pretty.”, Lyra smiled and gently laid a hand on the girl’s arm.

The girl flinched but then gingerly took a hold of Lyra’s hand and held on to it.

Lyra smiled, she was holding back tears and was hoping so much that Holly wouldn’t notice. “You can squeeze it if you want to.”

“Thank you.”

“Now isn’t this wholesome.”, Adam commented, a sly grin laying on his lips.

The two girls turned around startled, both not letting go of each other. Holly scared and confused and Lyra with a boiling anger hidden away.

“What do you think of your new cellmate Lyra?”

Lyra didn’t want to answer, she didn’t want to engage him and she did not want to talk about Holly when she was right next to her.

“I can’t see how my opinion matters in this, you apparently have already taken a liking to her.”, she diverted.

Adam’s grin doesn’t waver at the coldness Lyra throws at him. He rather finds it amusing. “Well, as a matter of fact I have. Problem is right now she’s pretty…Well she’s a little confused. I think I should teach her some of our rules, hm? Don’t you think?”, Adam elaborated, getting a big pocketknife out of his bag.

Lyra gently freed her hand from Holly’s grip. In one motion she stepped in front of her and lays her arms around her from the front.

“No. You won’t.”

A sadistic grin widened on Adam’s face. “And whyever would I not, Lyra? Hm?”

Lyra shook at the trigger but she pushed it down, she pushed it all down, the fact that she was exactly doing what he wanted her to. But she would not see Holly harmed. Not if she could help it in any way! “I can teach her the rules!”

“You?”, he laughed. “You barely follow any of them!”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know them.”, she smiled saccharinely. All but rubbing it into his face.

Adam’s face, just for moment, distorted in anger.

Point for me. Lyra thought to herself.

“This is bullshit.”, he spat and jumped into the basin. He started walking towards the two girls. “Lyra move out of the way.”

“No.”, Lyra repeated loud and clear.

“I said move!”

“No!”, Lyra said. She pushed Holly further back-hearing her scared sobs-and walked forth, meeting Adam halfway. Even with the height difference between the two she made herself as big as possible before coming to halt in front of him.

Adam taxed her with a look from head to toe before making eye contact. He flipped open the knife and laid the blade underneath Lyra’s chin tilting it up. “I said”, he says ever so gently, “move. out. of. the. way.”

“No, Adam. I won’t let you hurt her further.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Yes. I do. I won't let you hurt her.”

“You wanna take her place?”, Adam threatened, nicking her skin with the knife.

“Lyra’s gaze was unwavering as she held up her arms.

Adam took the scenery in front of him in for a few second before chuckling. His cool demeaner back as if it was never gone. “You’re really ridiculous, you know that, right? She’s not even your friend. And she most definitely isn’t your therapy.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”, she replied coldly, arms still raised.

“Oh thyma, I don’t have to.” He pocketed the knife and gently took a hold of her chin. “I just have to know enough to manipulate you.”

Lyra shot him a hateful glare but she made no move to shake off his hand.

“You wanna take her place? Show me. Get on your knees.”, Adam demanded. Half gambling because he still wasn’t sure this was going to work on his stubborn victim.

Lyra registered the words, she thought of the sweet girl behind her and much to Adam’s visible surprise she dropped to her knees in an instant.

Adam was shocked for a few seconds before the smuggest grin widened out on his face. He reached down and tiled her head up again. There was still the same fire in her eyes as always but she complied. This was delectable! “Beg for it.”, he ordered. Lyra bent down further, until her face was nearly on the floor-though he assumed that was more to prevent him from seeing her face.

“Please. Torture me instead of her. If she does something wrong punish me not her. Let me protect her. Please Adam.”

Adam set a food on Lyra’s arched back and pressed down, revelling in the feeling this whole scenario gave him, in the power.

“Are you sure? You could gain quite some things from this situation…”

Lyra was silent for a little while before replying: “I am sure.”

“Mmmh I guess that was to be expected. Sit up! Alright, as long as you behave, she stays safe. And who knows maybe you can even earn some scarps for her, hm.”, Adam mused. “Now I shall get Holly then and get her to the locker room, shall I.”

“Wait-Please Adam, can I talk to her for a moment.”, Lyra caught herself.

“Hmm, sure. Since you asked so nicely.”, he said, rubbing it into her face.

“You have one minute.”

Lyra scrambled up on her feet and hurried over to the still crying, wide-eyed girl.

“I’m so sor-sorry. You didn’t have to-you’re gonna get-“

“-Hey, hey, hey-Holly, calm down, look at me. Holly, look at me.”, Lyra tried to calm her down and eventually the girl calmed down enough to really look at her. “I’m gonna be alright, okay? I can handle him.”

“But you didn’t have to-“

“-Ten seconds.”, Adam announced

Lyra gave Holly a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll anything for you to see you smile.”

Then Adam walked in between the two, grabbed Holly and “led” her to her new home.

Before later returning with a bag full of torture utensils no doubt. This was going to suck Lyra knew. Worth it, she thought. Even as the metal-enforced tip of leather whip sneaked itself teasingly over her back.

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt

Please send me asks about this I want an excuse to ramble more about it!

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[lazylittledragon]

made a sticker for anyone to slap onto their work if they need to

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[3rdsday]

Tommy basically said "the DSMP was good because it was, and still is, loved" and that basically sums up my feelings on the matter too.

[pookiesatoru]

✰ . . . minors do not interact !

gojo and you fucking in missionary makes him dangerously sensitive as it is because he feels so much love as he looks down at you. how pretty you look, how a layer of sweats coats your skin. how your hair is a mess after multiple rounds. how you’re reaching out and grabbing at any part of his body for some form of stability while he fucks your cunt. he can see how you two are a mess where you both join, splatters of your wetness and white sticky remnants of his from previous rounds. you look so stunning. so so so beautiful.

he’s on the verge of cumming every second when you fuck missionary. he adores how he can see you flutter your eyes open and look so fucked out but still gaze at him with love. he gets even more sensitive the second you run your fingers through his undercut. he's groaning, hips faltering as he visibly shivers. feeling the pads of your fingers against his undercut is one thing but feeling your nails against them? that's another. three more thrusts and he's got his balls flushed against you, letting them drain, emptying them right into you.

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[r-aindr0p]

✨The shroud brothers (and yuu) wish you a happy pride month ✨

[paradox-n-bedrock]

me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-

*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*

me: okay, folks, it's you and me now

[eddiestommy]

wait so apparently some people get mad if someone else writes fanfiction based on headcanons they shared on tumblr??? so now i got to ask