ellievsbear
Love Begins
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
tannertan36
official daine visual archive
Game of Thrones Daily
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h
𓃗
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PR's Tumblrdome
No title available
cherry valley forever
if i look back, i am lost
Stranger Things
No title available
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@redweathertiger
sarah or vesper / she / 33 / dyke / librarian
psychological fiction
horror
world cinema
queer erotica
indie comics
disability
abolition forever
currently writing fic for reservoir dogs.
i will block minors who follow me. nothing but love! i'm simply a thousand years old.
THE HAUNTING — 1963, dir. Robert Wise
📍Istanbul, October 2025
📷 Fujifilm X-T5 / XC15-45mm
hannah einbinder for s moda [x]
LA MORTE VIVANTE / THE LIVING DEAD GIRL (1982) dir. Jean Rollin
shibari figurines by constant heaven
Meiko Kaji (梶芽衣子)
From the photo shoot for the Sareyo Sareyo Kanashimi No Shirabe (去れよ、去れよ、悲しみの調べ) album.
Scanned from the August 14, 1974 issue of Josei Seven (女性セブン).
http://fuckyeahmeikokaji.tumblr.com/
Mike Flannagan’s Sharp Objects Pitch: A reporter goes back to her hometown to investigate a murder and must stay with her estranged mother. They bond over the tragic death of her sister, which was no one’s fault because it was a ghost who targets innocent girls. Though initially hesitant, the reporter also builds the foundation of a new relationship with her youngest sister, the curious young Amma. Despite Amma’s happy childhood, she is now being haunted by the same ghost. The reporter and her mother must band together to save little Amma before it’s too late. In the end their mother sacrifices her own life to save them both and they see a vision of her dressed as Persephone keeping the ghost girls safe even in death, because a mother’s love is eternal
i kind of dislike the mental framework that the now-common ao3 tagging system puts the fanfiction reader on. like i'm going to react a lot differently to a story tagged #dubious consent than a story that simply presents it or that leaves the consent ambiguous, for the reader to form their own opinions. and it's a premise i enjoy so this isn't even that i am coming in with preconcieved negative notions (although i do have those, me, the notorious au hater, and yet i am sure i have read great aus in the past) but that i am coming in with notions at all. idk. on the reader's side it's like it takes away the element of discovery and on the writer's side it's kind of like inviting a way of thinking about your story as a product that needs to be dissected, categorized, psycho-analyzed, chopped up for parts and marketed. idk i liked that ff.net rewarded adventurousness and word of mouth which in turn encouraged commenting culture. i am glad that "writer has chosen not to use warnings" is becoming more of a thing but i can't help but worry that my fic won't have enough "reach" and someone looking for, say, dubious consent kink, someone at the market of fic, with a shopping list for efficiency's sake, is going to miss my little masterpiece because i have refused the tagging system that is there as a convenience for them to find me, but in that convenience we both give away a lot and i don't know that it is worth it. bazaar vs retail sort of
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll illustrated by Tove Jansson, 1966
choose your hero
Marlene Dietrich in Dishonored (1931)
mr. orange
"If It's Sex You're Looking For..." Designed by Judith Johnson for Hallmark, 1971. Archived from The Peculiar Manicule.
Katy always said she wanted to be the Demon Lover, the one we desire even when we know it is not us she wants, but our souls.
When she comes back to me now, she comes in that form and I never fail to think that the shadows at her shoulders could be wings.
She comes in when I am not quite asleep and brings me fully awake by laying cold fingers on my warm back. Her pale skin gleams in the moonlight, reflecting every beam like a mirror of smoked glass while her teeth and nails shine phosphorescent.
"Wake up," Katy whispers, and leans over to bite my naked shoulder. "Wake up. Wake up!"
"No," I say, "not you."
But I knew she was coming. I could hear her echoes peeling back off the moments, the way Aunt Raylene always said she could hear a spell coming on. Katy's persistent. Some of my ghosts are so faded: they only come when I reach for them. This one reaches for me.
from “Demon Lover” by Dorothy Allison
“I’ll make it interesting for both of us," she promises. Her nails rake me lightly. Goose bumps radiate from every burning pinprick. I am not afraid. I burn. I want her so badly. Like a madwoman, I don't care anymore what is real.
"You move," she tells me, “and I'm gone." The cloud of her lifts and it is all I can do to hold myself still until she comes back.
"You must hold yourself absolutely still. Absolutely."
Her skin burns me where it touches. I stiffen, holding myself for her. Her weight comes down until I shudder with pleasure.
Instantly her body lifts, becomes again a cloud. Her phantom laughter is rich and close. I bite my lips and hold myself still again. She comes down again. So cold. So hot. I groan. She lifts, laughs, and rises again. It goes on and on.
Do you love me? Do you want me? Do you remember me? Do you hate me? Do you love me? I love you, love you, lover you, come all over you, come up into the dark of you, the pit of you. Pull me down into the pit of you. Memory and touch and taste. You are never alone, never going to be alone. If you cry, I will. If you scream, I will. If you are, I am.
"I love you," she says.
from “Demon Lover” by Dorothy Allison
