KNOWN / UNKNOWN

ind. horror based oc. mutuals only. triggering.

[zomboye]

  #ZOMBOYE.     IND.     SEL.     ZOM.

[vaememes]

— nsfw sentence starters.

[blmys-blog]

rpmemesfam:

warning  :  these  are  nsfw  and  very  smut  related.

❛  what’s the matter? can’t keep up?  ❜

❛  am i going too fast for you?  ❜

❛  raise up some, i can’t breathe.  ❜

❛  wait, you’re going to go down there?  ❜

❛  please, no, i just want to hurry up here.  ❜

❛  well, what do you think? you like?  ❜

❛  are just going to stand there the whole time?  ❜

❛  my tongue is all for you.  ❜

❛  where did you learn that from?  ❜

❛  oh, i’ve got a new trick i want to show you. ❜

❛  i know exactly what you want and how you want it. ❜

❛  you’re the best i’ve ever had. ❜

❛  just kiss me, touch me…  ❜

❛  just touch me here.  ❜

❛  i want to touch you.  ❜

❛  hey, do you feel that?  ❜

❛  you always make me horny.  ❜

❛  this isn’t what i had in mind but okay.  ❜

❛  this is nice, wow, feels nice.  ❜

❛  i got a bed in the other room.  ❜

❛  just kiss my lips.  ❜

❛  i want you to hold me when we’re done.  ❜

❛  take me and don’t have mercy on me.  ❜

❛  make love to me.  ❜

❛  you never want to change things up.  ❜

❛  what is this? is this what i think it is?  ❜

❛  so, do you like it cold or hot?  ❜

❛  keep on touching me there.  ❜

❛  go down a little further.  ❜

❛  what? are you scared?  ❜

❛  keep going, make my legs shake.  ❜

❛  yes, that feels good.  ❜

❛  you do magic with your tongue.  ❜

❛  i like your fingers and your tongue.  ❜

❛  use your fingers and tongue.  ❜

❛  i think i’m going to cum…  ❜

❛  oh, don’t tease me now.  ❜

❛  i enjoy teasing you.  ❜

❛  beg for it.  ❜

❛  i’m ready for you now.  ❜

❛  you make me so … ready.  ❜

❛  can’t hardly contain getting aroused when you’re in my presence.  ❜

❛  do you live to arouse me?  ❜

❛  well, let’s do this instead.  ❜

❛  you screamed the whole time, not sure if that’s good or bad.  ❜

❛  make me scream, come on, let’s see if you can. ❜

❛  i just wanna have some fun is all.  ❜

❛  don’t forget who taught you that.  ❜

❛  make me quiver and shake.  ❜

❛  mmm, yes….. that feels nice.  ❜

❛  give it to me rough.  ❜

❛  you don’t have to be so gentle with me.  ❜

❛  mmm, let’s take things slow tonight.  ❜

❛  let’s make each other last all night long.  ❜

❛  what’s wrong? never slept with someone before?  ❜

❛  why are you so nervous? don’t tell me it’s your first time. ❜

❛  just close your eyes and kiss me…  ❜

❛  just touch me where you want to touch me.  ❜

❛  what if i just dropped to my knees now.  ❜

❛  undress me.  ❜

❛  slipping right out these for you now. ❜

[bodyafraid]

❛ how's that working out for you? ❜

WELL ENOUGH.          you are alive,     at least.     alive with all ten fingers and toes,     with a heart that pumps at an  exact  sixty beats per minute,     with lungs that expand and deflate.          you are alive with  all five  vital organs and all twelve organ systems in  standard,     working condition.          this is good enough for you.

a stack of golden french fries sits in front of you,     and after a moment’s wait,     you reach out to pluck one from the basket.          it tastes just as you remember it to:     like  wet cardboard  with a little more  zest     ––     and so the next one you dip in catsup,     and the one after that in mayonnaise.

❛          i think we  both  know that if i answer that  truthfully,     you’ll tell me it’s  bullshit.           because this town is something you can’t even  begin  to fathom.          it  bothers you  that it’s working out  fine  for me.          doesn’t it  ?          ❜

a glance to your side,     expectant.          you can tell he’s  stewing  on something.          you think about stirring the pot,     and how easy it would be to bring it to  a boil.           the corner of your mouths hooks into a small grin,     barely  noticeable,     and you look back to the basket of fries.

❛          hand me the  salt  ?          ❜

MEME     /    @bodyawake

[bodyafraid]

PSA     ––          my writing is going to shift from third person to second person from here onward,     because it’s what i’m most comfortable with at the moment   !

[bodyafraid]

❛ what’s wrong? i thought that it was okay? ❜

❛          NOT THERE.          ❜          arm extended,     fingers curled around a bicep.          something small,      something fragile,     something that would crunch beneath enough pressure.

she doesn’t know what hides in those woods     ––     no one does.      you have only ever ventured into the thicket  once,     to retrieve the body of a young woman from the branches of an old pine.      and even you,     for all twenty - five years you spent with the shadows,     felt at  unrest.          

you were smart enough to drive a vehicle with an  industrial  frame,     a fog light mounted on top that  dimmed and flickered.          you tied a rope around your waist as a precaution and it still took you  three hours  to find your way back inside the town.

the body of the young woman was never recovered,     and you spent the rest of the evening patching up three different  mysterious  wounds.          you do not want this girl to find out what happens to outsiders who venture outside the perimeter;     if there is one thing you know,     it is that  the town  will swallow her whole.

❛          that road leads to  nowhere.          i won’t be able to  help you  once you’re nowhere.           ❜

MEME     /    @crossworn

[soracities]

what abyss can fit me now?

Adonis, from ‘Body’, Selected Poems (trans. Khaled Mattawa)

[bodyafraid]

i’m bringin ya boi back !

[bodyafraid]

I.     BODYAWAKE     /     ARE YOU AFRAID  ?

‘      YOUR CUSTOMER SERVICE IS SHIT.      ’      he’s not offended.    if anything,    he’s relieved.    there’s a special sort of   denial   clinging to her memory    (   because that’s all it is now    :    memory   )    like an overcast sky on an otherwise warm day.    he doesn’t want to let it go just yet.    a pair of twenties is pulled from his wallet and slapped down on the desk,    and he isn’t thinking about what’ll happen once the last of his cash runs out.    poured into cheap booze across the street,    probably.    into a kitschy motel room with no wifi and no cell signal and a tv that only gets two channels,    all static.      ‘      you can tell me again tomorrow.    ‘s my favourite part of the day,    when we get to have these talks.    reconfortante.      ’

HE DOUBTS HE INTENDED PRAISE,          but smiles as though warmed by the remark.          

the paperback novel blows open     (     and it should be noted that this was  not  an exemplary display of the town and its oddities,     but rather the oscillating pedestal fan.     )          its pages turn until it falls on the excerpt of thomas quillan’s sworn testimony      ––     there is a portion highlighted here that reads:     the devil came to chamberlain.          it is the only sentence highlighted in the novel,     and it catches his eye.          

he has always enjoyed stephen king’s work.          he thinks that perhaps the town does,     too.

❛          i’m  touched.          ❜

it scrapes out from his throat,     a deep rasp with little emotion.          the bills are collected,     then tucked into the pocket of a pair of denim jeans with a peculiar  red  stain on the thigh.          this stain will remind you of  blood splatter  the longer you look at it.          do not read that far into it.          ❛          enjoy your stay.          ❜

[bodyafraid]

I.     KEPTLAST     /     CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH.

she stops, choosing to shut down rather than to push him further.    she couldn’t answer that.    and maybe he knew that. maybe he already knew that she’d deflect  —-  it was easier that way sometimes. to plead the fifth and move on to a different topic before they could circle back and revisit. 

she doesn’t hold it against him.   never could.   the things he’s dealt with throughout the years was enough to make her own head spin. she’d been a part of it, to help him cope or calm down,  or really she tried to serve as a distraction for it all. so the last thing she should be doing was trying to  educate  him on what was morally right or wrong. he didn’t need that.   and she wasn’t about to start a fight with him.   it wasn’t worth it. 

a beat.               ‘  you  look  like  you  could  use  another  drink.  this  one’s  on  me,  ’            she says, trying to flip the script.     it was easier this way.    to change the subject instead of continue on like this.  but she looks down the entire time, staring at her nails as she shakes her head.          ‘  no.  i  wouldn’t   want  to  know.  ‘

HE THOUGHT THAT MIGHT BE HER ANSWER.          it has become routine for him.          he drinks until he feels nothing at all,     becoming the man that his father would be proud of:     the shell of who he  used  to be,     and he can’t remember the last time this knowledge  bothered  him.          he is becoming more and more like him with each passing day.          cold,     distant.          turning pain into anger because it’s all he has left.          because anger is  energy  and it gives him means to survive.         

she knows this,     and she has  never  reprimanded him for it,     although there are days where he well deserves it.          the  sweet kiss  of a balled fist cracking his jaw,     or a kick in the teeth that leaves him spitting  blood  onto the pavement.          he can’t ask that of her,     but has  considered  it many times.

still,     he has made up his mind,     and is not so easily dissuaded.          she drops the conversation because she knows  this,     too,     but he wonders how long she’ll  dwell on it  after he’s gone.          he is not the only one with  crosses  to bear in this town.          ❛          just a beer.          ❜          he wants something  weak  this time around,     to avoid the humiliation and  headache  that comes after blacking out before he reaches the door.

❛          you’re upset about something.          what is it  ?          ❜

[bodyafraid]

YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE THIS PLACE.

it is home to an upwards of eighty people with little room for expansion;     its secrets are not for you to find.          ignore the  chill  that runs the length of your spine and the  paranoia  that sinks like a stone in the pit of your stomach.          your racing pulse is lying to you.         there are things to fear in this town,     but the shadows that dance in your  peripheral vision  are not one of them.          the  quiet dusk  is not a precursor to something sinister,     though you may be inclined to believe  otherwise.

AESTHETIC     /     the town.

[bodyafraid]

I.     BODYAWAKE     /     ARE YOU AFRAID  ?

‘      IT’S JUST A PICTURE,    MAN.      ’      the kind of thing you’d see on the news,    something bright and shiny pulled from social media to make people go   that’s so sad   when they talk about her tragic disappearance.    he wants to throw his phone against the wall.    pockets it instead and shrugs at jonah,    defiantly careless.      ‘      don’t read too far into it.      ’

HE ISN’T.          but he will later,     when joaquín returns to room thirteen.          room thirteen,     with the bed she tossed and turned in and the bathtub she was found in,     slack - limbed  and lifeless,     nothing but a corpse.          he begins to wonder:     is this  really  coincidence  ?          the chair creaks as he leans back,     feet propped on the reception desk and crossed at the ankles.          ❛          if you’re staying another night,     the rate’s  forty  up front    ––    i told you this yesterday,     and  the day before that.         ❜

[bodyafraid]

I.     KEPTLAST     /     CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH.

she doesn’t verbalize the annoyance she has,   it really wouldn’t help matters anyway,   but she does let out a sharp breath as she looks down at her own glass in front of her. it was one of the few days she has off. she gave herself one, just to regroup before starting another week. she takes a drink, the liquor burning her throat as it goes down. it didn’t help anything to argue. or prove a point. they might carry a lot of weight on their shoulders, but she wanted to remind them that they weren’t heartless.

                              ‘  if  i  was  in  that  position  i’d  want  to  know.  the  tables  were  turned,  i  was  in  his  place  —  i’d  want  to  know.  even  if  that  truth  hurt.  besides  –  this  town  might  be  the  reason  why  we  do  what  we  do,  why  we  feel  what  we  feel,  but  that  doesn’t  make  us  heartless.  ‘

SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO.          he reads her like an open book.          like one of his  favourites,     with worn pages and a bent spine.          the  coffee stain  on chapter twelve.          

he knows it bothers her.          and maybe if his  morality  wasn’t smeared in shades of grey,     it would bother him,     too.          the town does not choose its victims     ––     they always have a choice.          to live,     or to die.          she made hers.          that is not on him to explain.          she must expect this to weigh on his conscience.     he think that a part of it still  does,     but it is small and insignificant.

most of the time.

he is not heartless.          but he has seen what  grief  does to good men.          he has  felt  that burden,     and there are still days where he wakes to the weight of it  pressing down  on his chest.          ❛          so,     what do you want me to do  ?          knock on the door in the  dead of night  and tell him that the bathtub he passed out piss - drunk in is the same one she bled out in  ?            the same one i lifted her  cold  corpse out of  ?          look me in the eye and tell me again.          that you would  want  to know.          ❜

it would leave him with more questions than anything else.          questions that he can’t give him the answer to.          no,     questions that he does not  want  to give him the answer to.

[bodyafraid]

first of all, i didn’t write out my pages for my health, so jot that down

[robbiedaisy-archive]

bellamy blake in every episode | 1.03 - earth kills

[bodyafraid]

I.     BODYAWAKE     /     ARE YOU AFRAID  ?

‘      THAT’S NOT WORTH DICK,      and you know it.    but thanks for the sentiment.      ’

❛          IT MUST BE WORTH          something,     otherwise you wouldn’t still  have  it.          ❜          he hadn’t meant it as a sentiment.          he meant it as a pleasantry;     a courtesy of sort,     to pretend he  cared.          he thought it might be the  right thing  to do.

[hipsterhanzo-blog]

i love angry characters 

i love characters who are open and vocal about their anger– whether it is directed at a toxic system, person, or at an event or circumstance unique to them 

i love angry characters because i am sick of anger being seen as something that is uncouth and something that should be restrained, kept quiet, never acted upon 

i love angry characters because i am angry, and anger isn’t always rational, but it is real and deserves to be acknowledged –people and characters should have the right to be loud and angry and for it to not constantly be shown in a negative light 

[bodyafraid]

I.     KEPTLAST     /     CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH.

she observes his body language first. most of the time, she could read him like a book.    that was before.   this was now, and it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. there wasn’t anything wrong with that; she gets what happened. understands why he’s kept himself closed off.   loss did that.  this town did that.  she can’t help but fold her arms over her chest though, a sigh leaving her lips.

               ‘  so  you’re  not  gonna  tell  him?  you  know  i  was  there  that  night.  doesn’t  he  deserve  to  at  least  know  that  he’s  not  gonna  find  her  here?  that  she’s  dead?  ‘

she doesn’t like that she feels for this other guy. sometimes they have a deeper hold on her than the others. that, and she knows from experience that finding out later  —- and finding out the real reason was hidden by a lie  —-  was always worse.

HE BECOMES STIFF,          uncomfortable in his own skin.          a sip of liquor is enough to melt the tension from his shoulders and ease the prickle of  paranoia  threading in the column of his spine,     and he scolds himself for ever doubting her.          for ever entertaining the notion of a betrayal.          she would never do that to you.          this is what he tells himself before leveling her gaze.          she is far more kind than him;     a better person,     he likes to think.

his words are bitter,     and his tone is laced with a foulness that only the alcohol can attribute to.          ❛          what has he done to deserve courtesy  ?          he isn’t  looking  for her.          he wouldn’t be here if he was     ––     he’s here because he’s  running  from something.          she was just the catalyst.          ❜          sometimes,     lying by omission is better than telling the truth.

he doesn’t want to pour  salt  in old wounds,     but the way her memory scratches inside his skull often makes him reconsider.          he combs a hand through his hair,     then lets it fall to rest his forearm on the bar.

❛          telling him is more trouble than it’s  worth.          ❜