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Keni
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Kiana Khansmith

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
almost home
YOU ARE THE REASON

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@crowsteal
💀 RULES 💔 DOSSIER 🔪 VERSES 👁️ HCS ⚰️ MY OTHER BLOG
@theshaark asked: ‘ stop it. ’
* pet sematary prompts (ACCEPTING)
“or what? next time you’ll say please?” she, a zealot to the forces of evil (angry, black and heavy looming over her heart) ... has all the stubbornness of a toddler being reprimanded by their mom. kyra’s mouth has begun its curve into a wicked, mocking grin, before placing her (rightfully, thank you) stolen goods into her pocket without further care.
“grow up, boy scout. that’s the way the world spins, and it’s not stoppin’ any time soon.”
*puts my cold hands on your neck so you see how cold my hands are*
I love when people are genuinely excited about our plots/ships. I love when I’m not the only one who’s like “!!!” I love it. @ my partners you will literally never annoy me by being overly excited about our ships I love it so much.
My appearance is kind of a shock to everybody.
Elvira: Mistress of the Dark (1988)
@wildpawed asked: Shannon: ‘ you keep on the path and all’s well. you get off it and the next thing you know you’re lost if you’re not lucky. ’
* pet sematary prompts (ACCEPTING)
these eyes don’t look like much during the day — besides their dazzling color, thank you very much leticia hardin. at night they are better than any gps on the market, the moment the stars brighten and dazzle the black tar sky. there’s no way she’s getting lost unless someone takes from her what has been rightfully stolen.
“guess there’s one way around that,” kyra responds, deadpan: “don’t get off the fuckin’ path.”
* pet sematary prompts
pet sematary is a novel by stephen king. tw: blood.
‘ scared? honey, what for? ’
‘ that one will bruise. ’
‘ come on, gang. ’
‘ half a day is bad enough. ’
‘ i guess maybe i ought to tell you now, while you’re feeling sorry for me. ’
‘ do you want me to tuck you in? ’
‘ your nose is bleeding. ’
‘ but don’t look for me, or stay up. we’ve had a hell of a day. ’
‘ because it’s my mess. ’
‘ do you know what faith is? ’
‘ only children tell the whole truth, you know. that’s what makes them children. ’
‘ no one can guarantee that. ’
‘ it’s going to leave a scar. ’
‘ dreams are funny, aren’t they? ’
‘ coping. ’
‘ please, honey. ’
‘ lost a lot of sleep. ’
‘ no, no, no, no, no – ’
‘ it’s m-m-mean! ’
‘ probably be pissed off if you didn’t. ’
‘ sometimes people have to do things that just seem right. that seem right in their hearts, i mean. ’
‘ put some heat on it when you go to bed. ’
‘ you don’t have to shout at me! ’
‘ that day i blew up at you… ’
‘ you keep on the path and all’s well. you get off it and the next thing you know you’re lost if you’re not lucky. ’
‘ try to see. try to be kind. it doesn’t hurt you. ’
‘ just follow me. follow me and don’t look down. ’
‘ is this home? ’
‘ when it started not to hurt, it started not to matter. ’
‘ sometimes dead is better. ’
‘ god knows there is enough of that in any human being’s life, isn’t there? ’
‘ stop it. ’
‘ maybe it shouldn’t, but it does. ’
‘ scared of what? dying? ’
‘ and you know me. when i get scared, i get defensive. ’
‘ what do you say, asshole? ’
hey like for a meme from this terrible terrible woman
— TONI MORRISON, from ‘Beloved’.
hey like for a meme from this terrible terrible woman
THE HOUSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1944) dir. Erle C. Kenton
lazarising.
@crowsteal Dean stops spray-painting the devil’s trap on the floor to look over his shoulder at a woman who has evil written all over her. “What the hell would you know about demons?”
inky lips curl in a snarled smirk. she’s no demon (technically. there are a lot of testimonies that’ll beg to differ.) the only dark aura here is man made and stubbornly attached to that shriveled and black heart of hers.
platformed boots that match the rest of her midnight attire rub their heel over the fresh paint job:
“you think hardware store spray paint on the floor is gonna do shit? if you want protection, wear it.”
distantsuns.
Her answer seems to satisfy him; words are a little hard to form at the moment, so all she gets is a woozy smile. The James from five years ago would be horrified at the state he’s ended up in, but right now, he’s too out of his mind to care. ❝ You mean that, babe? ❞ His eyes flicker briefly from the television to Kyra, although even keeping them open at this point is a struggle. It’s only two in the afternoon, James.
❝ You’re so beautiful. ❞ He says, seemingly out of nowhere. At least, in this state he still remembers that compliments will keep her appeased. ❝ Come here— I just wanna lay my head in your lap. ❞
the sigh she swallows down is repurposed as a nasal exhale. ohh ... why not? throw the doggie a bone every once in a while, and he’ll worship you for it. james isn’t good for much now, but he is in a mood to kiss-up. her nail file is set someplace where it won’t be lost, as kyra forsakes her seat to join james on the couch.
with a pat to his arm, kyra remarks, “sit up and make room for the beautiful woman, baby.”
formaen.
he can’t help a scoff, never great at even attempting to look on the bright side of something. “you can’t fight for everything,” some things, he’d even argue, should be let go because it’s better that way… but that’s a whole other set of thoughts altogether. “and sometimes shit just happens. i’m not saying it’s great or anything… it’s just the truth.”
she’ll give him partial credit: of course you can’t fight for everything. who the fuck wants to? but a fight for what you want is the best reason there is. the only smart reason ... if you go about it the smart way.
— unfortunately, most people are as dumb as the fuckin’ rocks that sit in their damn heads.
“you sound like a guy that’s never found anything he wants. sounds pretty fuckin’ dull to me,” she recites dryly.
distantsuns.
@crowsteal
❝ Kyra, darling, tell me somethin’. ❞ The doctors told him not to mix alcohol and his pills, but James has never been in the business of listening to doctors. He guards his painkillers jealously, because they’re the only thing that make him feel normal or somewhat close to it these days. He’s sprawled on the couch; something mindless is on the telly and he’s not paying any attention to it because he’s too out of his mind to care. ❝ Kyra— do you love me? ❞
goddamn, he’s pitiful. no, worse yet — he’s gone too low for her to pity. kyra wears an obvious grimace, though she doubts james even notices in this state. with a heavy sigh (as if he is now pressing all the weight of the world on her shoulders), kyra looks up from her nail file.
once upon a time, johnny church used to ask her a question just like that. never quite phrased like james but she knows how to fake an answer. johnny used to obsess over a foreign diva in horror films; kyra could act circles around that neurotic bitch.
“that’s why i’m here, right?” deflection is the right hand man of a narcissist. kyra even fakes a flirty smile as she drops her file to her lap; “to take care of you, babe.”