Reading Times, Pennsylvania, March 26, 1928
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NASA
we're not kids anymore.

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@midnightwalkin
Reading Times, Pennsylvania, March 26, 1928
(I needed somewhere to post this, its an absolute mood)
Big Announcement
I’m going to close all my accounts. I wont go into super deep detail but I’ll put some stuff under a read more. Its nothing bad or scary. Life has been crazy lately and I think I need to give myself the headspace to handle it.
Thank you for rping with me! Its made me really happy as a writer and helped so much with character development. But I think I need to take the next step forward to something new.
Keep reading
A soft giggle preceded her words. "You have a chocolate stain here." She tapped on the corner of her mouth, then decided taking action was better than talking. She grabbed a paper napkin from the pile on the table and stretched her hand out to clean the infamous stain on Graham's face. A couple of wipes, and it was gone for good. As Chris pulled her hand back, she smiled in satisfaction, as if she had just accomplished something great.
@hyacinthsgirl
“Ah-”
Somehow stains seemed to always pop up. Either on a new jacket, a white collar, or even on his paperwork. Chocolate and coffee were the worst offenders, sometimes it was easier just to toss out a shirt than scrub away the mark. He closed his eye briefly above where she cleaned up his cheek. When Chris leaned back, Graham smiled and rustled her hair.
“Thanks, Chris.”
He chuckled a little bit.
“Maybe, your ‘Dad’ got a little too excited over chocolate cake.”
His brown eyes fell to her plate.
“Oh wait, you have a stain too.”
He lifted his fork and quickly sliced off a corner of her cake. The next second, Graham had popped the stolen prize it into his mouth. His fork hovered ominously while he grinned.
“Huh, that’s weird, I think I see another one right.... over... here.”
hell yes
man sometimes tumblr is like
living in a crumbling apartment building with a bunch of people trying to hold on
and the landlords just slap duct tape over everything
"What do you mean, 'what happened'? It's simple. I used magic." Margot's ice-cold stare and stony expression gave way to no humor or any other signs that she was lying. Her arms remained crossed over her chest and her booted feet planted firmly on the ground. Black lips pressed together in a brief show of disappointment. "You might not believe me, but it doesn't change the truth." -Margot to Theodore
@dansemorosity
Theodore stared at the woman, his green eyes quickly darted up and down her figure before he titled his chin up.
“Alright,” his left hand slid into his pocket, “then do it again.”
As if he’d believe someone so easily. Growing up in a two-bit small town meant dealing with the neighborhood boys hellbent on becoming magicians and jugglers. Kids used to beg to be taken with the traveling circus, and plenty of them tried so hard to prove their worth every summer. He watched them try to do a card trick only to drop their deck and scatter it across the sidewalk. ‘Psychic’ girls pulled his sleeve and failed miserably at guessing his first name and favorite color.
Alright, he’ll bite. But whoever this woman is better not run out of that ‘magic’ any time soon.
“No, actually, do it three more times. And slower.”
Okay
I got some iced coffee
a small burst of alone time and good news
HEWWO
You know, it’s wonderful when guys like you lose out. Makes guys like me think maybe we got a chance in this world.
Dark Passage (1947) dir. Delmer Daves
Tenderer than the rose.
Sappho, from 7 Greeks (tr. Guy Davenport)
@enchairr asked: “she can’t have disappeared.” (Sy to Graham)
(i decided hell yes lets make this about Chris, LETS ROLL OUT)
“I dunno- look- I can’t explain it, but-”
Graham paced from one end of his living room to the other. There was something in the air he wanted to reach out and touch. A hidden code in the room that spelled disaster. This was his home. He could map Chris’s movements better than anyone. But now, a half-open dresser, the door to her room slightly ajar. The cold silence. No, something about this wasn’t right.
His hand bounced as more thoughts struck him.
“I’m worried something bad happened, Sy.”
That someone took her.
Graham covered his mouth. He furrowed his brows. He rushed to her bedroom and yanked the door open. Graham stood there, hoping that she would reappear in her bed or at the windowsill with a smile. Even though he’s searched her room time and time again tonight, Chris wasn’t there.
“… I’m going out to look for her.”
He shot by in a blur, grabbed his coat and keys with one swipe and stopped at the entry way. Graham turned to Sy.
“You comin’?”
The Baltimore Sun, Maryland, August 23, 1942
Hewwo
im tired so im just gonna-
sit here
Stylish parisiennes in The Love Parade (1929).
ghosts with teeth, peter crowther | sentence starters
content warnings: general horror, implications of torture, mutilation and gore these prompts can be taken as direct dialogue, part of a description you’d use, or just as a prompt. feel free to change pronouns and input names as you see fit. taken from stephen jones’ edited collection, a book of horrors, and slightly edited in some instances.
———
and then it all started to come back.
“almost there, baby. almost home.”
“you been away someplace, [name]?”
“i’d kind of figured i was done, but two more won’t hurt.”
“you go on – ain’t like you’re gonna be going anyplace once you get there.”
“oh, he’ll already know.”
“where’s she gone?”
“she can’t have disappeared.”
“huh, i thought that place was empty.”
well, what are poltergeists?
“they’re here, [name]. all of ‘em! they’re all here.”
“i thought i saw someone at the window.”
“nobody there now.”
“you are tired, aren’t you, sweetie?”
“what did she mean – ‘they’re all here’?”
“she didn’t seem happy about it, that’s for sure.”
“looks like i got the wrong end of the stick.”
“naughty girl.”
“yeah, my fault. don’t get pissed at her.”
“it was raining in your house?”
he’s in the house, a little voice whispered at the back of her head. this isn’t a good idea.
“unless you’re dead.”
“didn’t make it into the newspapers yet. or on the tv. will, though.”
“uh, huh. took her near on twelve hours to die.”
it’s not true that poltergeists are just mischievous, not at all.
imagine if you had a whole family of poltergeists.
the audience laughed.
poltergeists are not the kittens of the spectral plane, they’re more the… raptors. like in jurassic park. ghosts with teeth.
there was nobody there.
“of course there’s nobody there.”
what do you say to all this, [name]?
“oh, that’s typical. typical of you, [name]. you try to belittle people who are trying to discuss something.”
“i think you’re getting too much sex.”
“and don’t do that, either. that hurt thing. that expression you use when you’re trying to make out you’ve been wounded.”
“jeez, but these cookies are good. where’d you get ‘em?”
“[name]?” her full name… the one he always used on the rare occasions he was angry with her. or scared, a voice whispered in his head.
you talk about ghosts as being infestations.
“let me turn off that fucking radio.”
“you didn’t— didn’t have a fight, did you?”
“here we all are again.”
“you’re having quite a day of it.”
“did you say goodbye to your friends, [name]?”
“oh we are multitudes, [name]. and we’re gonna have ourselves some fun. after all, ain’t like you’re gonna be going anyplace.”
“or you’ve made a mistake in one or more parts of your story.”
“you mean, ‘or i lied’. that’s what you mean, isn’t it?”
“we have to keep all options open.”
“you might even have a poltergeist.”
ghosts with teeth, a voice said at the back of [name]’s head. that’s what he said, the guy on the phone. ghosts with teeth.
“the fire’s not even lit.”
“let’s talk about poltergeists.”
it looked like they had come to do some kind of repair work, for they carried all manner of tools – saws, hammers and drills, plus coils of twine.
the light was still on.
there was silence, but it was not a good silence, not a calm or quiet silence. rather than it being simply nothing – just a quietness with nothing added – this felt like a quietness with its very soul removed.
“i did lock it. i did call out. but you didn’t answer.”
“she’s with you, [name].”
“where do you keep your knives, [name]? ah, okay… i got them.”
what? what was it exactly? halloween? the boogeyman? a gen-you-whine ‘thing’ from someplace where there were no lights and no smiles, no love and no softness, only pain and grief and sadness, loss and regret…
“because i’m a sheriff. an upholder of the law.”
“my friends and me, we’ve been educating. and i think it’s fair to say that our students have been fascinated with what we had to show them. yes, indeedy. oh, they’ve occasionally been surprised and… well, often they’ve been a mite uncomfortable. but, you know what they say: ‘knowledge is power. and strength.’ they do say that, don’t they, [name].”
“did you know the small intestine is twenty-two feet long? i didn’t know that. and [name] didn’t know it either. believe me. oh, but you know, it does so make for a swell wall display.”
“who are you?”
“you, dear [name]? oh, there’s nothing wrong with you. not yet, anyways.”
“the tools of my trade,” he said, and he set all the knives out in a line next to each other.
“and i don’t respond to the things you would expect a thinking, caring person would respond to. what do they call it? sociopathic tendencies? something like that, i think. the thing is, the things i do, i don’t do simply because i enjoy doing them – though to be fair about this, i do – but rather i do them because i have to do them. does that make sense?”
“no… no it doesn’t make sense.”
“you’re trying to multi-task here, aren’t you?”
“[name], let’s pretend i can’t see you and can’t tell you’re shaking your head. let’s pretend i can only hear your voice… and that if i don’t get a good answer, then i’ll go right ahead and chop off that finger. and what you need to worry about then is where do i stop. you understand that, [name]?”
“yes. yes i understand.”
“because i am one of the pain people, [name]. in fact, i am the pain man. delivered to your very door, agonies beyond belief. beyond even your most fevered imagination. it’s what i do, [name]. you understand that? it’s my job. what was it they said on the radio? ghosts with teeth? i like that. i do like that.”
“causing pain is what you do.”
“i don’t want to go downstairs.”
“i don’t want to go—”
“welcome, my friend, to the show that never ends.”
“i seen this in a movie one time.”
then someone turned off the lights.