New Writer Boost - Tumblr Posts
@purpleyoonn I found it!!!! I know why I never knew it existed!
My Grammerly add-on was covering it! I am currently going thought and fixing this! Especially with any chapters of more than like 500 words!
Thank you for mentioning this note! It really helps newbies, newbs, baby writers, new posters, and dumbdumbs like me!
💜💜💜
i'm not gonna lie, i wish more writers on here would make use of the cut-off option things for long texts. i would rather not have to scroll for minutes just to move on from a post.
it may just be me and that's fine. but sometimes it is inconvenient and annoying.
this thingie ⬇️ is what i'm talking about.
but also, i kind of mean this to be more like a rant because i totally tried to scroll past a ch for 3 minutes that was a huge trigger warning that didn't have any tags and was about rape and abuse on an mc by a bts member. so please please please learn to tag fic. 🙏🏻 😭
but yeah sometimes it is inconvenient and annoying
rant over now sorry guys😭😂
Welcome! I’m a new account and I love writing so I’m gonna start on here!
“Nice to meet you, Thomas” - Leatherface x Female! Reader
Author’s Note: I guess you could consider this some sort of Au for the Hewitts. Nevertheless, please enjoy the little fluff with Thomas. He deserves all the love!
〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣
It was a hot summer’s day in Puller, Travis County, Texas. The black cement that made up the road sizzled with intensity, almost like it was an illusion put on by a magician. The (L/N)’s took the time to admire the old farmland that sweeps across the hills of the abandoned town. The baby blue 1961 Chevrolet Impala that (F/N) (L/N) joyously owned sputters and spits as it tracks down the old roads.
An audible sigh escapes from (F/N)’s lips as the check coolant light blinks on, flickering expeditiously from the dash panel. Fortunately, a small convenient store comes into view through a mass of trees. It seems rundown, with a few bikes huddled in the front. Rusted machines and old tires collect around the outside of the building. The paint was chipping off and the A/C system looked old as can be.
Nevertheless, they turn into the driveway, parking on the other side of the gas pumps from the scraggly group smoking pot from their vehicles. “You girls go inside and get coolant for the car. I’ll stay out here,” (F/N) says, eyeing the batch as they pointed towards the little family with envious smiles.
“Come on sweetness,” (M/N) coaxes to her daughter, stepping out of the passenger side door. She was a thing of beauty, growing with grace as old age overtakes her. Her (M/E/C) eyes shimmer in radiance as the blazing sun catches sight of her. Petite hands brush past her short (M/H/C) locks, curling them behind her ear. (Y/N) wishes to grow old just like her.
The backseat door opens quickly after, and two youthful (S/T) legs jump out in modest Mary Jane shoes. (Y/N) (L/N) was the spitting image of her mother, though the soft delicate skin gave her away. The young girl follows along after her mother, mindlessly toying with the buttons of her overalls.
The door creaks as her mother enters. The strong smell of liquor and cigarettes instantly burn at (Y/N)’s nose, but she tries her best not to cringe as they walk up to the front counter where the shopkeeper sits. It was an old woman, with frizzled grey hair done up in a bun. Her blue gaze watches the two ladies with a dourly look. A release of smoke pours from her mouth as she takes another hit from her cancer stick. “What can I help you with?” She responds bluntly.
“Yes ma’am, we were wondering where your car coolant is,” (Y/N)’s mother replies kindly. “We just ran short.”
“Middle aisle, probably at the bottom…” the older woman replies.
“(Y/N), would you be a dear and go fetch that for me,” (M/N) asks with a grin.
The inside, the girl realizes, was dark and dreary. The shelves were crammed with items in no particular order or form. As she examines the contents of the third rack, she notices a couple sitting at a table near the bathroom. They both sported leather jackets and glowering stares. She quickly notes in her head not to even look in their direction.
“Did you get lost in there, sweetheart,” the older woman calls from the front counter.
“No ma’am…” (Y/N) responds politely. She finds the blue bottle stuck in between two funnels before rushing up to the front, where her mother was having chit-chat with the owner of the store.
“There you are!” (Y/N)’s mother says, gesturing for her daughter to come closer. “Apparently this is our neighbor! She lives a mile up the road from where we built our house!”
“Oh… Nice to meet you then, Miss…” (Y/N) questions softly.
“Luda Mae,” The older woman remarks. “You know, I have a son around your age. He’s on the shy side though…”
“You here that, (Y/N)? Perhaps you can make a friend after all,” (M/N) exclaims with excitement as she digs out a wad of money from her pants pocket. “We will definitely come visit sometime after we get settled! How much for the coolant?”
“If you wouldn’t mind coming for dinner Wednesday evening, it’s on the house. I would love for Thomas to meet (Y/N).”
“I see no problem in that at all. Until next time, miss Luda Mae!”
〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣
The tires skid across the gravel of their newly done driveway that travels to a lovely white plantation house. Big trees settle lowly around the property, providing shelter from the hazardous sun. (F/N) and (M/N) talk amongst themselves as (Y/N) daydreams in the back seat.
“Oh, look! Our strawberries are growing!” Her mother grins. She quickly picks up the paper grocery bag that was settled in between her legs and ventures over to marvel at the fruit saplings. “Do you see, my sweet!”
“They are beautiful, mother.” (Y/N) says with a gentle smile.
“Oh girls!” (R/N) bellows from the front porch steps. “I hate to ruin your sight- seeing, but aren’t we supposed to be going over to the Hewitt’s home tonight?”
“It’s Wednesday already?” (M/N) gasps, “Where did the time go… I guess we better get freshened up.”
Luda Mae was standing in front of her kitchen door as the (L/N) family pulls up. Her wrinkled face invited them with a friendly grin as she waves. All of them are ushered inside, where white porcelain cups and biscuit appetizers were set on the small dining table. It had a long dining cover with brightly colored flowers printed on them. An artificial bouquet is the center piece. Luda went busy at work making sure all of them are accustomed to, pouring tea into each of the glasses in front of them.
“Charlie- he’s the sheriff- will be a little late for supper. His patrol is going longer than he anticipated… though he would love to be here to meet you, I’m sure.” Luda explains with affliction. “But Tommy should be done some time soon, no worries miss (Y/N).”
She starts to attend to her crockpot on the stove, stirring the red soup with broad strides. (M/N) insists to help her cook, but Luda rejected the idea immediately. “Are you sure, miss Luda-”
“Please, just call me Luda Mae. No need to be so formal,” the older woman sighs. “And no, that’s alright dearie. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook? You just sit there; your company will be enough.”
Suddenly, the screen door slams shut. The deep breathing of a man stops the chattering of the room, and everyone stills. A man in an overused leather apron and a sweat-stained yellow striped shirt stands tall in the doorway, frozen like a deer who was spotted by a predator. His thick hair was caked in grease, his curls kinking into knots. The air stunk of meat.
“Tommy, welcome home!” Luda Mae welcomes him in with a kiss on the cheek. “These are the (L/N)’s; they are our guests. Now don’t be rude! You’ll be sitting by (Y/N) right there, she’s very nice.”
Thomas’s body slowly pulls out the chair, sitting in it as he was told. His whole body was tense, and (Y/N) could feel the heated shaking of his hands. He adjusts his mask, looking down at his lap.
“You have pretty hair,” (Y/N) says to him, surprising herself with the sudden complement. “I always wished my hair had coils like yours.”
Thomas’s salt blue eyes widen slightly as he makes eye contact with (Y/N). Never in his life has someone complimented his hair. He was not used to such nice comments to be thrown in his direction, especially not from a pretty girl he was just introduced to.
(Y/N) giggles a little at his reaction, but nonetheless finds the innocent behavior cute. “Good to meet you, Thomas. I’m sure we’ll become the best of friends.”
Present Silence
C̲l̲o̲c̲k̲w̲o̲r̲k̲ ̲x̲ ̲N̲o̲n̲-̲B̲i̲n̲a̲r̲y̲!̲ ̲r̲e̲a̲d̲e̲r̲
❥ Warnings: mentions of neglect, mental instability, hints to eating disorder, mentions of cancer, death of a parent
𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.
⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
(Y/n) wasn’t much for silence, yet it was the exact thing that haunted them in the dead of night. You could say it rooted from a traumatic event from their childhood; an abandonment that made them become almost non-pellucid to the outside world. Not that they cared. They saw society in a fixed lens, seeing every little speckle of morality as if it was a blemish on their sketch book.
However, the white tiled halls outside their room didn’t even make any motion. No reverberation of heels clicking against the marble or the creaking of an old wheelchair rolling down the narrow walls. It’s as if the present became quietude itself. Static fills the emptiness inside (Y/n)’s head, spreading down throughout their body like a virus. It bleeds into their veins, leaving a heavy formication. Their fingers itch and claw at the ashen sheets below them, pulling at the restraints hung taut at the edge of the bed.
They wanted to scream, beg to the black figure standing in the corner to stop. It watches them with gaping eyes, its black irises widening with delegation. The creature wasn’t real, they knew this. The suppressed subjectivity of their mind was interesting. The morbidity that it plays with made (Y/n) want to laugh. To say that it all started with a drawing was much too simple.
The doctors liked to prescribe it as a disease; a disease that will slowly consume (Y/n) as they spiral into madness within these matted panels. (Y/n) thought of this ‘sickness’ as gospel. With their new pair of glasses, they could distinguish what was true and what was false. Who was for them and who was not. That power does come with a cost.
(Y/n) was quite bright as a child, finding new ways to express themselves as an upcoming member of a Utopia they thought existed. With a pencil and paper, they could abstract anything that popped into their young mind. They love to draw. It was an activity that allowed them to show others how they saw the world. Bright and opportunistic, with the sun shining over everyone in brand lighting.
‘That world doesn’t exist. Get over your stupid dreams of becoming something that’s unrealistic.’
Their mother had told them that a long time ago, when the colors they once saw turned bland. When their father left, life as they knew it flipped upside down. ‘You can be anything, and I’ll be there for you,’ he said. What a joke. He should have known that the cancer would get to him before (Y/n) would ever aspire in a work ethic. Their mother wasn’t much of an enthusiast, especially after her husband died. The one luminosity that ever dared to make her smile was the one that left her with a kid she didn’t even love.
Life wasn’t too bad. (Y/n) still had the gift of sight and vision that provided them with the love of drawing. As they woke up from the distant memory of a peachy story, they then realized their potential. No one understood their craft though, using the aphorism that grotesque and dark art did not aid in this world’s progression. (Y/n) did not adjure this type of thinking. Didn’t they see it wasn’t that of a pretentious display?
The school recommended that they be transferred in an institute during their third year of high school. (Y/n)’s mother was more than compliant for their requests. ‘They need medical help. A kid their age should not be thinking so deeply about these things.’ The nurses were nice enough. They had charming smiles and always made nice comments on (Y/n)’s latest projects. They were fake, sadly. Though, (Y/n) appreciated their efforts to perceive the meaning.
The crisp breath of the inky silhouette fans over (Y/n)’s face. A shudder goes down their spine, pricking their nerves like hot wax. It lies on their leaden body, grabbing at the muscles of their neck with a tight squeeze. (Y/n) was hyperventilating again, the edges of their field of vision spotting. It was a trick. Why was their mind going against them so?
They twist and turn against the restraints tied around their limbs, the leather rubbing into their skin harshly. The feeling of it burning at the pellicle of their wrists and ankles erupts another feeling inside the pit of their stomach. They needed to get out. They wanted out. The sudden anticipation to move ached in their joints and they struggle more against the phantasmal weight on them.
(Y/n)’s hands slip through the material, and they heave themselves upward. The darkness emitting their sight disperses into the shadows of the room, leaving them to gasp for air. Rubbing at the red pigmentation of their abused wrists, they kick off the belts holding their feet. The distant sound of a clock erupts the quiet void of the room.
The window adjacent to the door opens gradually, and the form of a girl crawls in. The constant ticking coming from the girl’s retina eases the density crawling at (Y/n) with vigor. The static falls into a pleasant buzz on their skin.
The girl pushes her brown locks out of her face, her one hazel orb almost glowing in the moonlight. Her sewn smile stifles one to reach (Y/n)’s blue-tinted lips. She reaches into the bag hanging over her shoulder, unzipping it with ease. She pulls out a black book and tosses it onto the thin bedding. Despite her not speaking, (Y/n) nods their head in appreciation.
“Thank you, Clocky…” (Y/n) huskily remarks. Their fingers graze over the rough fabric of the cover and they open it to see it was another sketch book. It was probably one she snatched from one of her 'jobs’. She would never say what she did, but that didn’t cause any frustration on (Y/n)’s part. “You always know how to make me feel better…”
“I saw you screaming again,” Clockwork replies, “Did you have another episode?” She sits down on the mattress, crossing her arms.
(Y/n) simply taps at their head, the pads pointing towards their left eye. They suddenly get up from their position, their malnourished body contorting with audible pops. Clockwork watches them with precise movements as they grab for a box under the furniture. (Y/n) opens it, grabbing some paper and two graphite pencils.
“Will you draw with me?” They ask sweetly.
Clockwork looks towards the door, before breathing out. “Alright, but only for a little bit. I’m not supposed to be here.” She places herself on the cold floor as (Y/n) positions the material.
“I’ll show you the new monster I saw tonight. I’ll call it Present Silence…” They muse as they begin to drag the charcoal tip over the clean sheet of paper with eager. Clockwork observes as they wind the black substance in circles. Normal people would call (Y/n)’s art as childish or rubbish, but she was fascinated with it. They drew the way she saw the world.
“Are you not in the mood to draw?” (Y/n) asks, stopping for a moment to look up.
Clockwork hums in response before grabbing the book from (Y/n)’s lap.
“I’m not finished-” They reply, but don’t fight with her as he looks over it.
“Present Silence, you say?”
They nod with a smile. “It suffocated me.”
She gathers her thoughts, before placing a hand on (Y/n)’s head. She brushes her fingers through their hair; these were the hands of a killer. Her hazel eye locks with (Y/n)’s as they wait for a response. She gives them back their art piece and picks herself off the ground.
“Where are you going?” (Y/n) says sadly, “Stay for a little longer?”
Clockwork climbs over the windowsill, her hand holding onto the glass. She glances back, a ghostly tender look veiling over her harsh looking demeanor. “The next time I visit, I’m bringing something special.”
“What you bring me is always special,” They answer.
“See you…” Clockwork says in response, closing the window back to where it was before she entered. Present Silence once again greets the lonely figure within the room.
⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Zeeta
A short story - 1.3k
There’s a part of the world not safe anymore, the reasons have been lost to time. She enters and is haunted by horrific nightmares of what happened there, then on the last night wakes up having discovered that the nightmares were more real than she’d bargained for.
Why could she never change? Always too curious for her own good, paired with her unyielding stubbornness and you have a disaster waiting to happen. Especially on Zeeta.
Zeeta was her home planet. It was breathtakingly beautiful, with forests that stretched for miles, lakes and rivers running through even the most urbanised parts of the planet, and yet it possessed a small population when compared to the rest of the local galaxy because of its’ reputation. If you were to ask anyone about Zeeta, it’d be the last place they would ever go, no matter what you’d offer in return.
It was cursed, they all said.
Never having stepped foot on the green fields or in the prospering cities, they wailed and proclaimed that anyone who stepped foot there would meet a terrible end.
None of this was really true. It was just some political thing that turned to rumours and spiralled out of control.
Of course they were wrong. They had to be.
However. There was one part of Zeeta that no one ever spoke of. Not because it wasn’t allowed… simply because everyone born and raised there grew up with the unspoken dread that filled every person, every being at the mere thought of being there.
Somewhere in the forest, the green grass died, the trees wilted and nothing could grow nor live. No one knew exactly where it was nor did they wish to find out. No one knew exactly what was wrong with the place but they were terrified. All known information about it had been lost to time. Everyone. Every child, teen, adult and elderly person kept the fear of that place alive.
But why? Why should they fear something they know nothing about? What was really there? Could something so bad really be right on their very own land?
No. There was just no way that she’d believe it.
So she went. One perfectly clear and beautifully starry night, she leapt out of her window and headed into the woods behind her house. She had no reason to go. No reason at all. Except for her mother mocking her earlier that day as she voiced her belief about the so called ‘cursed’ place not being so bad. Particularly her mother’s choice of “have you been there?” is what ticked her off the most. No. no she hadn’t. but neither had her mother. No one had for that matter.
So she would prove them wrong.
She spent about 2 hours wondering around in the woods before she stumbled upon a compass wedged half way into the ground. It was surrounded by other bits and bobs, cogs and screws that had no place being there.
She dug it out of the ground and held it. North wasn't pointing North. She may have been gone for a long time but she still knew roughly where she should’ve been. And the compass was wrong. She stared. A second. That’s all it was. For a split second the reflection looking back at her wasn’t what she expected. She was crying. Disturbed, she shook her head and her reflection returned to normal.
A warning? Omen?
She still refused to back down. All this dedication and searching. She was so close she could feel it. She had to follow through. She looked at the compass once more, located North and looked up, determined. It took all but 3 steps and she no longer recognised the place she stood.
She looked back and saw the forest, yet stood on concrete. A path leading into a city. Yet it was nothing like she was used to. Whatever this was, was the complete opposite of Zeeta's streets. Replaced by looming buildings long dilapidated and worn by weather. Abandoned. She got the impression that a fire had swept the city and left nothing – no one behind.
She stared around in awe. This was no malicious or cursed place. Simply a tragedy misunderstood.
She went in deeper.
The air. Something was wrong with it.
It had to be at least a few decades since anyone, anything, any disaster had swept through so why was the air so heavy? Why was it that with every step she felt more suffocated? And then she looked around again. Paid closer attention.
People. People not turned to ash but frozen. Frozen in amalgamations of crystal, ruby, emerald, sapphire and more. It made no sense but it caused her no fear. She kept going. Now more intrigued than ever.
No longer paying attention to her breathing.
Her curiosity got the better of her again. She approached a body. She reached out to the gems. Cold. Sharp. She caught her reflection smiling. And then she looked up. The agonising screech of this man in his final moments was trapped, frozen in time forever. It didn’t bother her.
The fear.
It urged her on.
Disgust. A sudden and overwhelming disgust left her crumpling to the ground gasping for air as she came back to her senses. Something wasn’t right. Everything was turned to ash but these people.
What were they running from? What could do this? Who? …were they still here?
As the last thought rung through her head she turned away from the body clutching onto her chest. Panic rising. She looked up. And saw… something. She still can't describe it, but it terrified and calmed her at once. She wanted to run away and towards it simultaneously. Yet when the thing smiled, she made up her mind. With the thought of never seeing her mother again in the back of her head she ran to where the compass she had almost forgotten about was pointing North. Tripping once and scrambling back up she gasped for air more and more desperately. Hearing the creatures laugh she hurled herself across the threshold and just like that, you wouldn’t even know the place was ever there.
It's only then that she fully registered the tears silently flowing down her cheeks.
It'd been 7 days. 7 days since she came back home and sat through a sleepless night only to try her best to pretend nothing was wrong. And it worked. For just about 12 hours. She eventually collapsed in her bed: the exhaustion of keeping up the secret weighing on her as the adrenalin had disappeared long ago.
And that’s when the nightmares started.
The terrors that had her bolting up so fast she could hit the ceiling if she tried. Sweating, crying and even throwing up once she had awoken in the middle of the night having gotten 3 hours of sleep at a generous estimate. But the thing that bothered her was that she had no idea why.
Every time she woke she felt as though she had escaped her death or worst fear and yet she couldn’t remember a single second of these horrendous dreams. Not until the 8th night.
She had been cut on the way out of that dreaded place she had been so determined to find. This dream wasn’t so bad. But she was more scared than she had ever been in her life.
The cut. The thing she saw got to her. It clawed at her.
It was a dream, so why? When she looked down why was her leg bleeding so badly. It took another second for it to burn. But when it did, all the hiding she had done, all the emotions and fear she had kept from her mother about the nightmares and effects of them went out the window. The scream she let out was so loud and piercing that she swore she could see her bedroom window crack a little. She heard the panicked running of her mother heading to her room: blacking out before she could see her face or hear her voice.
Prologue
Deep in the darkest point of the Midnight Valley existed a facility with a purpose of despicable evil. A place ruled by once innocent creatures who had been mind controlled into absolute obstruction, re-enacting the lessons they believed to be true.
We were pure lights filled with endless possibilities that had the power to cure the world of its anomalies. But those in power would not tolerate such good deeds and instead chose to lock us under the rules they declared, with chaos hovering over us in intimidation. Under such cruel management dictating who we were destined to be and surrounded by dark corridors with windows consistently blacked out, we often dreamed of the possibilities outside of the realities assigned to us. This was outlawed and the longer we stayed, the sooner we would succumb to believing the lies being fed to us by those with intentions misaligned.
We prayed to open the doors and be acquainted with the outside world, free of all the dark control that consistently rendered us motionless. But sometimes you must be careful what you wish for when every door leads to a new nightmare unfolded.
Pure Life; Conditioned Into Darkness
written by Dan Roberts
Blue Serenity: Phase 1 Hollow Nights Under Starry Skies
Flower.
I am a delicate flower that blooms in bright colours and wilts as the time goes by because nothing lasts forever and despite all my potential beauty, I always rest in dark by the night
I cannot seem to handle real life and tend to do anything to simulate being alive because I am a man inside his feelings not aware of the way he should be living, rolling with the punches day by day
I never speak to others for it is all too hard I long to share my interests and dreams so they can see the cool sides of me but all that I do is fail because I get tongue-tied and quiet I really want to be the man I know that I can be instead of the actor crying in between the scenes
When I do not thrive in the natural ways, I water myself differently
I get high and I drink Frankly, I will do anything to avoid thinking Perhaps this is the way I have always been though I wish that was not true at all
But despite the darkness I know to be alive and true, I understand that I want to change for I do not want to be the same as the boy I was just yesterday What can I do to make it all go away?
Today, I pray that one day this will never be the same I am going to let it all pour away and hope to see paradise after the rain
—
Blue Serenity: Phase 1 Hollow Nights Under Starry Skies #2
written by Dan Roberts
Cassandra Ito-Ivanov lived with her single mother. And then she died. Cassandra Ito-Ivanov had never met her father. And now, with no one else to watch her, she must go all the way to the other side of the country and live with him. She ends up in Cardinal. A tiny, middle-of-nowhere town that has no such thing as Burger King. Her father is missing ninety percent of the time (big shocker), his so-called housekeeper won’t stop breathing down her neck, and again, there is no such thing as Burger King. It could be worse, she could be in foster care. Cass is odd, but Cardinal is odder. Weird things happen on a daily basis, the forest is forever, and there is no such thing as Burger King. They fear the night, for it holds secrets.
This is my first ever story. Sooooo don't expect it to be perfect. If you like unserious horror stories, try Cardinal on Wattpad (chapters 1 2 and 3 out now). Please just give it a chance.
Constructive criticism is always appreciated.