#i mean. you should probably be a little uncomfortable when you're writing horror right

[khaleesa]

Writing prompts: 11!

I haven't written a word since I finished Guidance Counseling, but this prompt ("just once") finally inspired me! Thank you for submitting it! And thanks to @bratanimus for giving it a once-over. <3

==

Tomorrowland

The rocketship slide, layered with decades of chipped paint and rust, would've been a better vantage point to watch the Creel house for the signal, but Chrissy couldn't bring herself to approach it. Eddie, on the other hand, thundered up the metal slide like an overgrown boy showing off on the playground--which was probably exactly what he was doing. Goofball. She had no such urge and was drawn instead to the ramshackle picnic table tucked beneath the sheltering canopy of the old sugar maples, near a light post that she hoped to God still worked. It would be dark soon. 

In spite of the very serious--not to mention scary--circumstances that brought them here, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as she watched Eddie flail and narrowly avoid falling off the top of the slide when he attempted to crouch beneath the child-sized opening of the rocket. The hatch? It was so weird how they barely knew each other--had never talked before last Friday--but somehow he could make her feel comfortable even in truly uncomfortable situations. 

He bumped his forehead on a metal bar, swore, and rubbed it dramatically as he turned to face her. 

"Laughing at my misery, Cunningham?" he called down to her. "I knew it--you're a sadist!"

"I am not!" Chrissy retorted, groaning inwardly at how lame that sounded. 

They should probably be more quiet; the team inside had planned on absolute silence until the time came to draw out Vecna. Could he hear beyond the dilapidated walls of the old house? 

A shudder rippled down Chrissy's spine. She didn't want to think about Vecna yet. It was hard not to, though, with the darkened windows of the run-down house staring like hollow eyes in skeleton faces. She was glad she wasn't looking at them dead-on. She didn't like how they seemed to be fixed on Eddie. 

Scary as it was, the Creel house also made her feel heavy with sadness. Once upon a time, it had been pretty. Ladies wearing dresses with puffed sleeves and trailing skirts and hair pinned up in elegant styles had sipped tea in the front parlor, while children in lacy pinafores and knickerbockers played in the garden. Later, in the fifties probably, someone had built the space-age playground. It would've looked a little like Disneyland, with pastel Victorian Main Street, USA perched just around the corner from Tomorrowland. There was nothing magical about this, however--except for back magic. The Unhappiest Place on Earth. 

"You okay?"

Chrissy's gaze darted from the house back to the slide, where Eddie stood at the top of the stairs, frozen with that same look of concern that had taken her so much by surprise that day in the forest. You okay? he'd asked then, too. Other people had asked that since she’d started having her episodes--Jason, her friends on the cheer squad--but Eddie was the first one who'd actually seemed to give a damn, to make her feel like maybe she could explain, and maybe he'd get it.

If he hadn't exactly gotten it then, he definitely did now. Chrissy felt just terrible that she'd dragged him into this horror movie that her life had become. Even if he did work awfully hard to make people think he was mean and scary. 

He didn't look scary now, though. He just looked…scared. Like he thought her eyes might glaze and she'd start levitating again, and this time��No. More things she didn't want to think about right now. 

Maybe she could do what Eddie was so good at. Make him feel comfortable. 

She sat up straight--no easy feat on the bowed and off-balance picnic table bench--shoulders back, chin raised, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm a little offended that you think I'm a sadist." 

Eddie barked out a laugh and bounded down the slide steps, skipping a few, and over to the opposite side of the picnic table. He slapped his palms on the surface and leaned forward, eyes dark and gazing down at her. Chrissy had read about men flashing lascivious grins before; now, she finally had a real-life picture of what that meant.

"I didn't say sadism was a bad thing." Eddie's grin somehow grew even wider as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Did he hear how sharply Chrissy drew in her breath? Could he see the flush that prickled like a sunburn across her cheeks and ears? Thank goodness for the long shadows cast by the sunset, and that the light post over the table still hadn't turned on. She wracked her brain for a clever response, but Eddie leering down at her was too distracting, and she was totally out of her league when it came to knowledge from dirty magazines and movies. Anyway, Eddie seemed thrilled to have rendered her speechless. Somehow, this didn't make her feel dumb, like Jason did when he knew things she didn't. Eddie just got a kick out of scandalizing her, or corrupting her innocence, or something. 

And over the last couple of days, Chrissy was learning she got a kick out of being scandalized, or corrupted, or something by Eddie.

The light mood didn't last long. Eddie's grin faded as he trudged around the picnic table to straddle the bench next to her. For a moment, they contemplated the Creel house in silence. Eerie silence; no doves cooed in the tree limbs above, no crickets chirped in the unmowed playground grass. Chrissy was about to comment on how weird this was, when Eddie spoke, a cigarette clenched between his teeth. 

"Me and the band…" He trailed away as the lighter snicked and the end of the cigarette flared.

Although Chrissy wasn't a fan of stale, old cigarette smell, she liked fresh smoke. Now, it brought the reassurance that she wasn't the only living thing here, that Eddie was warm and alive beside her. She felt herself shifting a little closer to him, her knee bumping one of his.

Pocketing the lighter, Eddie took a drag, then removed the cigarette to exhale, smoke wreathing him as he went on. "We always talked about having this dump as an album cover. Or shooting a music video here. It's creepy as shit."

Chrissy nodded her agreement. "I feel kind of silly for ever thinking the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland is spooky." 

Eddie blew out another puff of smoke. "You've been to Disneyland?" 

"Just once. Have you?"

"Nope." He popped the p definitively; it almost seemed to echo in the quiet of the playground.

"It's probably not your kind of place." 

Eddie sat back, a deep frown tugging at his features, buckling his forehead. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" 

Chrissy flushed as she realized how that sounded. Not like she'd meant it at all. "Just that it's cheesy fantasy stuff. For kids." 

Eddie's shoulders relaxed, and a grin slanted across his face. "Cunningham. What do you think Dungeons and Dragons is? Honestly, Disneyland sounds right up my alley." 

That wasn't exactly in line with how he and Dustin had explained Dungeons and Dragons to her, but Chrissy was just relieved he wasn't offended anymore. "But you wouldn't think the Haunted Mansion is even a little bit scary," she said. "Not compared to all those movies you like." 

Eddie seemed to consider this as he smoked, turning his head toward the Creel House. "After this week, I think maybe I've had enough horror shit." 

Chrissy's heart gave a squeeze in her chest, but before her guilt could take hold, Eddie's fingers closed around her knee, and she found herself looking into his dark, glittering eyes again. 

"Tell you what," he said. "If I graduate? We're going to Disneyland." 

An image sprang into Chrissy's mind of the two of them strolling toward Sleeping Beauty Castle, Eddie in denim and leather and chains and Mickey Mouse ears. But that wasn't what made Chrissy let out a shriek of delighted laughter, then clap her hand over her mouth lest Vecna hear them or Eddie somehow read her mind and think she was making fun of him. Or it wasn't only that. If I graduate, he'd said, not, If we make it out of this alive. Graduation came after. They would have an after. 

"Not if you graduate, Eddie," she said. "When." 

Eddie smiled--not the maniacal, teeth-baring grin, but biting his lip, ducking his head, hair falling in his face. He leaned in, close enough that Chrissy could smell the cigarette on his breath. She wanted to taste it on his lips. 

"And, uh, if the Haunted Mansion gets too spooky for you…you can…" His tongue darted out to lick his lips. "...hold my hand." 

His gaze dropped, and Chrissy saw his hand had moved from her knee, close to hers on the bench. His pinky touched the side of her hand. She flicked hers out to touch it. 

In the dormer window of the Creel house, a light flashed on, and they both sat up. The signal.

"But I'm the one who'll probably be shitting my pants," Eddie rasped.

Gripped with a sudden courage and decisiveness, Chrissy stood up. "Then you can hold my hand," she said, and twined their fingers together. 

~*~

If you'd like a fic, drop a prompt in my asks!

[albatris]

as far as my rather intense dislike for Weird Food-Related Horror goes vampires r mostly chill as a concept and don't really stray into The Bad Zone but also a random plot point from the middle of the story Does take a sharp detour into the type of Weird Food Horror I'm not a huge fan of

only for a chapter or so!

and like. it's fun as a horror concept. and it's not so bad, like, WRITING it when I'm in control the whole time and know exactly what's coming. but if I read it in another book I would immediately be like nope nope nope nope nope

[becausethathappens]

Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon.  🤞  Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live 

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose 

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

&

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,” Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights. 

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits. 

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes. 

 “I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment. 

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry. 

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for. 

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion. 

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

[voiceless-terror]

hi friend!!!! i love your writing!!! if you're taking prompts from the bingo card (if you're not then feel free to delete this!!), how about N5 for Jon? :) i hope you have a great day!!

‘fighting to pay attention to urgent information’ ahh i love this prompt!! thank you so much for the ask, it means a lot since i love your writing so much (and it  inspired me to starting posting my stuff, to be honest). Here you go, I hope you like! This takes place right after Sasha makes her statement to Jon in season one.

Sasha is talking but Jon can’t hear her.

It’s all muddled in his mind. So many things have happened over the last couple of weeks- Martin’s worm attack and now Sasha’s encounter with Michael- and his mind is refusing to process. She gave her statement in his office and was now explaining the situation to Martin and Tim while Jon stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to nod at the appropriate time.

“We’ll need a plan of attack if Prentiss comes or if any of us encounter Michael again,” she’s saying. “Martin’s already living here, but-”

A plan. Yes. A plan would be good but Jon can’t think beyond Sasha bleeding in his office and Martin throwing open his door demanding to be heard. The worms on the pavement crawl and creep and remind him of something he thought he’d finally put behind him but he’s been chasing it the entire time, hasn’t he?

His body feels at once too hot and too cold. Jon’s never understood that about illness. How a body can burn with fever and shake with a chill at the same time. But he’s not sick, he’s just...overwhelmed. Needs to eat a normal meal, needs to get some sleep. If he could just get a deep breath in his lungs the black spots would stop dancing in front of his vision and he could pay attention and come up with a plan. 

But every other word is ‘worms’ and ‘infestation’ and all matter of disturbing things and his mind goes wild with imagination, horrible scenarios playing out in his mind as his breaths turn into an uneven staccato of sound that he tries to stifle.

“-could get more CO2 you think? Jon?” That’s your name.

“A-Ah, yes. I’ll t-talk to Elias.” Sasha nods and Jon is relieved to have said the right thing. The fog in his brain lifts; the panic eases for just a few moments but it only reveals more physical pain and he starts to shake. He knows he needs to sit down soon or he’ll be lying on the ground either way. So he slowly backs out of the room, hoping no one notices as his hands grasp at the wall for balance. He manages to stumble back to Document Storage before he hears someone calling his name. But he’s lost now, barely breathing as his heart stutters in his chest and he sinks to the floor.

________

Martin had been watching Jon while Sasha spoke. Martin watched Jon a lot- innocently, of course, and Jon never seemed to notice. He was either willfully ignorant or really that oblivious. 

Martin was starting to double down on the ‘willfully ignorant’ theory. 

Jon was nodding along, sure. But his face held a detached blankness, as if each word were in one ear and out the other. Of course he would zone out during this conversation; it involved real, actual supernatural occurrences. He only contributed once, a vague promise to talk to Elias, who was turning out to be a very useless manager. Martin thought Jon was getting better about this. After all, he seemed to believe both Martin and Sasha’s stories. But he watched as Jon moved further and further out of the room when he should be contributing to the conversation. He disappeared down the hallway and Martin let out an irritated sigh, drawing Tim and Sasha’s attention.

“What’s up?” Tim asked from his perch on Sasha’s desk. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this out-”

“It’s not-” Martin got up, starting to make his way down the hallway. “It’s Jon. I can’t believe he would just walk out on this. I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Martin-” Sasha sounded hesitant but he ignored her as he spotted the open door to Document Storage. Why would Jon go  here instead of his office? This was Martin’s room with his things. And I didn’t exactly keep it clean. “Jon?” he called out. “Jon, you need to- what are you doing?”

The man was leaning against his cot, knees brought up to his chest as he stared at the floor. His glasses were tucked into his sweater and his hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. And he was ignoring Martin in favor of whatever the hell he found so interesting about the floor. Martin stooped down to his level, ignoring the twinge in his knees on the cold cement. “What’s going on?” he asked again, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. God, Jon could be so infuriating at times, but he was still concerned.

Jon barely spared him a glance and tightened his arms around his knees, looking like a ball of tension. His shoulders moved very minutely upwards in a sort of shrugging motion and Martin thought he heard a mumble of ‘’nothing, fine,” under his breath and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He moved in closer, setting a firm hand on Jon’s bony shoulder- when did he get so thin?

“Look, I know it’s a lot,” Martin tried for comfort, though it was getting harder and harder to do so these days when the man refused to see reason. “But you can’t just bury your head in the sand whenever someone says something you don’t want to hear, alright? We’re all struggling and it would be a lot easier if we had a boss who actually listened instead of- shit.”

Jon was shaking so much. How had he not noticed? His breathing was off, like a sputtering engine as his white-knuckled grip dug into his knees. His face was ashen and sweaty. He was clearly unwell but he opened his mouth anyway in an attempt to respond. His eyes did not meet Martin’s.

“It’s- it’s all I think about,” he began, his voice more of a croak than the smooth baritone Martin was used to. “She’s after us, after you and Sasha and now there’s Michael and I don’t know what to do.” Martin watched in horror as his eyes filled with tears and his voice trembled. “And- and what if I go home and she’s waiting there? What if she gets Tim? What if we aren’t safe anywhere?” A slender hand shot out and grabbed onto Martin’s sweater, startling him as Jon’s eyes met his own with a desperate fervor. “I-I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. And Elias doesn’t even care, just w-watches while we all scramble around doing- doing-” his voice broke into a hacking cough and Martin couldn’t witness any more. He dislodged Jon’s hand and backed away. Seeing Jon like this was uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure what to do about it, so he went into his natural problem-solving mode. “I’m going to get you some water, yeah? You’re- you’re not well, we can talk about this later.” Despite keeping his voice soft and low, Martin watched as Jon shrunk into himself, desperately trying to stifle his coughs. “I’ll be right back.”

He hightailed it out of the storage area, eyes firmly on the ground and steps so quick he didn’t notice Tim until he ran right into him.

“Oof! What’s wrong, Martin?” Tim said as he grabbed him by the shoulder. “Boss giving you trouble?” Martin shook his head, voicing his next words as diplomatically as possible. 

“He’s, um- I think he’s sick?” Tim’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m just going to get him some water, yeah.” He walked off before Tim could ask another question; he didn’t want to leave Jon alone for too long but he also didn’t want to be subjected to Tim’s questioning.

It only took him a couple of minutes to grab some water and a cold towel but by the time he got back to the room Jon was laid out on his cot, eyes barely open as Tim said something Martin couldn’t hear and smiled softly at the man in the bed. He knew they’d all known each other before the Archives; it was something that he thought about quite a bit, to be honest. But he’d never really seen Jon interact with someone like this, so quiet and trusting that he nodded off right in front of them.  

“There you are!” Tim said, uncharacteristically quiet. He reached out and Martin handed over the supplies, still stupefied by the whole situation. 

“Just gonna let him sleep for a mo’ before I force this down his throat,” he chuckled as he gently placed the towel on his forehead. “Glad you checked up on him- didn’t realize he was having a rough go of it. I’m usually a bit more observant.”

“We’re all having a rough go of it, Tim,” Martin felt like he had to explain some of his frustration. “How did he let himself get to this point? I mean, he’s always so skeptical on the tapes but it turns out he’s worked himself up so much he’s sick and it doesn’t make any sense.”

“We all tell our lies, Martin,” The words weren’t said unkindly, but he remembered that Tim knew about his resume and though he didn’t think the man would ever tell anyone it did seem like the words were rather pointed. “His coping mechanism is all this skeptic nonsense. Don’t get me wrong, it’s terrible and very annoying,” Tim conceded, giving Martin a knowing look. “But not all of us ended up here accidentally. Most of us are here for answers. For a reason.” Tim’s far off look reminded him that he knew so little about the people he worked with. He wondered what Tim’s reason was, what Jon’s was. And if they would ever feel comfortable enough to confide in him. 

Martin doesn’t know how to respond to those words, so he does what he does best- deflect and nervously offer his services. “I can throw the kettle on, maybe order some takeaway? Food would probably make him feel better.” 

“Yeah, reckon it would,” Tim’s just staring at Jon as he fitfully dozed. Tim may not have been attacked directly but he looked tired and worried all the same. “He likes Thai.”

Martin noted the fact down for his mental file on Jonathan Sims. Hates spiders. Likes his tea with milk, no sugar. Hates my handwriting. Likes Thai. It’s not very comprehensive.

Later, when he’s making tea in the break room, he watches as Sasha slips into the hallway to Document Storage, attempting to go unnoticed. She’s got a hand to her shoulder like she’s trying to rub away the ache and Martin grabs some paracetamol out of the cabinet, knowing both her and Jon will need it. Everyone in the Archives likes to hide their pain, himself included. But maybe for one night they could help each other out. Four tired humans against two eldritch abominations.

Martin could get behind those odds.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065482

[blueboltkatana]

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

GUrll ur so sexy... Like you're Hot. I don't care if you were bullied in school, you're sexy, they lied.

Also bitch I KNEW i related to you too much our ascendants are both in leo we're so hot.

Ok ok no now I'll stop complimenting and start with the roasting here we go:

So the sun is your sense of "self" it represents you on the more base level i guess you could say, like what most people think you're like is represented by your sun. With Sagittarius being your sun it means you're very energetic Especially for those things you are passionate about, you might have gone through a LOT of hobbies, only a few of them stuck around but you like to try things. You're curious about the way people's minds works, you wanna figure them out. If the conversations you have don't involve some form of psychoanalysis or philosophy you might loose interest. You are a Talker, maybe you talk very fast or you are often told to lower your voice but you don't do it on purpose you're just very very animated. You are kina volatile, in the sense that you value freedom in everything, love, work, hobbies. You have a huge rebellious streak and you kinda like testing your luck. Think adrenaline junkie. It's cliché but with this much Sagittarius in your chart you prob love traveling, like i said you will chase freedom because you associate it with happiness. If you find people that make you feel free then you feel happy. Rules don't go well with you. You don't really like being involved with fights per se but you LOVE debating, if you can beat a motherfucker with nothing but facts and logic you will and you will enjoy it.

Your way of flirting or making friends is "lowkey bullying" or my favourite "verbally throwing hands". If they shoot back you get heart eyes (my mars in sag agrees). You can be tactless as fuck tho. Like you will say some outrageous shit that MIGHT be funny if the timing is right or MIGHT make everyone in a 5 mile radius mad.

I NEED to talk about your moon in sag bc Babe, babe the moon tells us about our emotions and how we deal with them, how we express them and how they shape us. But BABE. Sagittarius moons are so bad at comforting people it's embarrassing, trying to make them think of smth else or do smth else to distract from the situation is NOT a good way to deal with your emotions... Avoiding your emotions like the plague is not gonna invent a vaccine... Saying "everything is fine :)" DOESN'T MAKE ANYTHING FINE PLEASE GO TO THERAPY. ok to give you some credit, you don't let shit bring you down, no matter what you always get up and that is a *strength* that i admire, but love you're burning the candle at both ends, especially if you get yourself in More problems by trying to distract yourself from One problem.

Also you've had a horsegirl phase or a dog obsession phase or both huh. AND your love language is sarcasm but the type that you will make someone laugh when you're insulting them. You're also hilarious irl you're prob the "funny friend" but with that scorpio mars and venus baby inside ur sad and dark as fuck ripp.

I also wanted to talk about your mercury in sag... Babe... Do you know what a brain to mouth filter IS?! do you recognize that word?!?! Cuz you have never used yours i think. Like you are hilarious but that's because you have dolphins in the head cavity baby. Not trying to say you're stupid, you're actually very smart and opinionated, probably have been told that you'd be a great lawyer or smth. But miss gurl please think before you speak for the love of god ur gonna make someone cry. Also ur mouth is foul. Have you ever spoken a sentence without a "fuck" or a "cunt" somewhere in there?! God bless.

Now for your scorpio Venus I'm just gonna say, more confirmation that ur Sexy as Fuck, scorpio venuses are just sexy, amazing partners, VERY passionate, whoever dates you will never forget you, for better or for worse you'll forever be on the back of their mind. You had a harsh emo phase huh, maybe loved some obscure shit like witchcraft or just love dressing all black like someone's mother died, i bet you wear silver jewelry a lot, maybe necklaces or rings or chockers. If this isn't how you dress now it was prob a major phase in your life. Or maybe you just love horror movies idk

Being as passionate as you are you don't take well to being mistreated or lied to, you might like to plot revenge and things like those, you wouldn't do anything... You actually prefer letting things go but you WILL make an elaborate scenario in your head at 3am or even as you stare right in the persons face.

With mars in scorpio you might be kinda passive aggressive, maybe you act like things don't really bother you but you throw a comment or two once in a while just to stir the pot bc you can't move on lmfao.

You are attracted to people that are introverts or generally just mysterious, like i said above the nature of the Sagittarius is to Learn and to Study. People that you can't immediately figure out intrigue you. All your crushes are either on geminis or water signs lmfao.

The best careers for you are the ones that allow you some freedom of either movement or expression and something that can keep your mind from flying away, something that keeps you intrigued, like research or writing. You're a very "all or nothing" person and it can sometimes scare people away, i advise you to work on compromising, being less stubborn and more open with your emotions and desires.

(part one bc I'm taking too long and I don't wanna keep you waiting so much) I'll reblog this with part 2

Alright here we go part 2 of Roasting hella until she finds out I'm hiding in her walls.

I will skip over some planets that are Very slow moving and usually don't talk about you as an individual but refer to your generation as a whole.

I wanna focus on lilith for a sec bc worstie lilith talks about our fears, our more "darker" side that we hide from ourselves as well as the people that we love. Lilith in aries in the eleventh house tells me you might be afraid to take charge, you gravitate towards positions of leadership but you let go on the last second, almost afraid to have too much control, very often self sabotaging your own success. Your anger and you own ambition might scare you, you might be afraid of appearing too aggressive bc under your skin you have a deep rooted anger and rebellion that you wish to relieve but you can't find a good enough outlet, some things soothe it but you always feel like it never leaves. It might be related to some form of resentment that you never truly dealt with and now it sits uncomfortably with you and you just can't get over it and it bothers you. You might have been shy in groups as a child, maybe you talked a lot but it was always from a fear of the silence not always because you had something to say. The eleventh house is that of groups and friends and social awareness, technology and your hopes and wishes for the future, having lilith in this house talks about someone who had a hard time feeling comfortable around people OR someone who wasn't very accepted. You might have desperately wished for friends but have found it hard to find any. Or if you did, you deep down felt very alone. I would advise to learn to accept your anger and deal with it in healthy ways instead of brushing it off and repressing it.

The north node talks about what you need to focus more in your life for example in your case with Gemini in your North node you need to focus more on your communication letting go of anxiety and your relation with other people you need to become more interested in intellectual pursuit and growth. You need to let go off the need to always be right and look more at details instead of focusing on on the bigger picture all of the time. When your North node is is in Gemini then your South node is in Sagittarius which tells me that what you should focus less on is your pursuit of freedom and your rebellion. Be more aware of your words and use them with maturity.

Now let's have some fun with the ascendent in leo which we share and now i see why ur so relatable. The first house or the ascendant is that very superficial layer of our personality, it includes the way we carry ourselves, our style, the little habits or quirks we have. One thing about leo ascendants is that we have an obsession with our hair. Hair is important to us, some have huge hair that might remind you of a lions mane, others just have very unique style or color but we ALL are lowkey or highkey obsessed with it, either constantly touching it, pulling it, chewing on it, cutting it or dying it in unique ways you name it. You might have a rather large nose or cat like eyes.

This ascendent is full of life and light, very funny, light hearted and luxurious, you want to live that good life and i don't blame you. A negative aspect is that we come of as intimidating to others. ALL of my friends AND my ex have at some point told me I was intimidating to them. It makes us prone to overcompensating for it later in life so maybe now you're super outgoing and extroverted and you approach people first and try to be super friendly. Also you're an attention whore (affectionate) with a flare for the dramatics, very flamboyant, you basically fill the room with personality, it attracts attention and you love it. You're what people would call a "sunny" person.

You're hella competitive (get it lol) and you LOVE fighting your way to the top and crushing the competition. You're probably a weirdo that low key likes school. Not the way it's run or the teachers or whatever, but the "idea" of school. If you could just learn all your life you absolutely would.

Second house in virgo. The 2nd house is the house of money, work, income, daily routines, values, material possessions, habits, work ethic ect being in virgo it means you can have an extremely good work ethic, you put a lot of thought in planning and mapping your work, you might get overly critical on your work though and often undermine your own success and efforts because they didn't fit your impossible standards. You can be very organized in your work, you want things to be a certain way and if they don't follow your plan you will Make them. Its a good position for virgo but yoh need to be aware of not overworking by trying to do Everything on your own. Let others help you, and let people in your work do their own things don't try to help if not asked to because you will overwork yourself.

The third house is that of the mind, thinking, communication, siblings, interests and early education, in your case it is in Libra which means that you're early education might not have been very stable or it was a period of time that you look back with a lot of fondness but not much substance. You are a good talker but you get lost when it comes to details, you are indecisive when it comes to settling on an opinion on something if you don't have All the facts first, you always want to be right. You are pretty open minded and easy to talk to but you might have the bad habit of rambling off topic. You change interests constantly and you prob like to talk about others, you wanna know the tea if it kills you. You prob had a crush on a childhood best friend or on a hot neighbor. Your relationship with your siblings might be pretty good, friendly, no particular resentment or anything like that, you might be the one that everyone treats a little better, people let you get away with things more often, you might be the one that takes 2 hours in the bathroom lol.

Oof fourth house in scorpio babe how are the mommy issues? 😬 How is your relationship with your femininity? Having trouble with keeping secrets? So the fourth house is the one responsible for your home roots, your family, self-care, emotions, your mother, women and your femininity and having Scorpio here tells me that you might have very strong ties to your family, but they weren't healthy or emotionally supportive. You have grown with people that might have undermined your emotions, people that didn't teach you to set healthy boundaries and maybe even manipulators and gaslighters. You might have been the type to put your foot down a lot a home, assuming a very dominant role as well as the defender. You're very private about your family life and don't want to let people too close.

Ah i just noticed u have like 3 planets in this house including ur Sun and Moon, babe this house is what you need to focus on when you go to therapy. This almost secretive, guarded approach to understanding your own emotions is very prominent in how you see yourself, how you feel and with Pluto there, how you change. I could say the biggest changes in your life have happened in these areas and they have left the biggest impacts on you. Yes you are passionate and protective but don't let bad feelings marinate forever, address them and then move on from them because they're just weighting you down.

Fifth house in sag, also the house of your mercury. This house represents Love, romance, creativity, self expression, joy and childlike spirit. It tells me the way you express your creativity is through words which makes sense since you're a great writer, but not only, the way you express Love is also through your words, expression and free thoughts are your way you tell your loved ones how much you mean to them, think poetry, long rants, music recommendations bc of specific song lyrics, you have been writing form childhood and it's one of the ways you express your view on beauty as well, to you love is freedom and freedom is expression.

Capricorn in the sixth house paired with both uranus and neptune being in it tells me there is something about your knees, joints, bones or teeth in particular that stands out when it comes to your health, maybe you tend to break your teeth, maybe you like chewing on crunchy foods, maybe your joints crack a lot, idk but I'd drink my milk if i was you, take care of your joints and bones. Also for you, being emotionally unwell often translates to being Physically unwell as well, so be mindful of your emotions because they do affect you physically. You need to keep hydrated also and your health plan needs structure for it to work bc that neptune makes everything very chaotic and uranus constantly makes you bored and wanting to spice things up. Take care of your emotional needs just as much as you would with your physical ones. And for the love of jesus be CAREFUL with alcohol or smoking because that neptune in ur health house could mean serious trouble if you let it become an addiction, don't push it.

Aquarius in the seventh house of relationships, marriage, contracts, business partners ect means you are untraditionally traditional. That makes sense in my head let me explain. Aquarius is a sign that seeks individualism desperately, it likes to feel like a special person, impossible to understand. Yet always feels comfortable in the structure of traditional and safe paths. So for example you might marry someone in a way that is not traditional but at the end of the day you wish for your marriage to have a stability you would feel safe falling into. Also it says ur gay. Air signs in the relationship house says ur gay i Make the rules.

Pisces is in the eighth house of sex, intimacy, shared finances, inheritance, taxes, loans, property, mystery, partner's resources. This tells me you fuck with feeling lmfao. Or you simply make your love life something "special", a connection that only you and ur person can share, it's what makes you an amazing lover and an unforgettable one as well. But as amazing as you are at creating a otherworldly atmosphere, ur just as shit at setting boundaries and saying something when you don't like something. You don't like to see things that you love ending and a failed relationship makes you blame yourself too much, you have the tendency to stay in situations where you are being mistreated but you tell yourself It's on you.

A recurring theme I'm seeing is some weakness when it comes to liars or manipulators in your life. So either you irrationally fear people are lying to you because you "lie" to them about yourself or a lot of people in your childhood might have used lying or gaslighting as a way to keep you under control. I would advise to try not to overthink and become paranoid, people love you and they believe in you and they aren't deceiving you, they don't secretly mean something different from what they have said. Listen to your intuition about people sure, but don't confuse it with anxiety.

With lilith and aries in the 9th house of travel and higher education and religion I'm gonna assume you might have religious trauma. Religion might have been a way that people used to try and control you, if not religion then some form of system or government law. Being queer i completely understand the sentiment but in your case it's take a step further because you Value the ideals of this house so much, with lilith here, it's like at som point in your life you were finally awakened to how much injustice there was in the world ant that has made you very inclined to take action, you cannot stand unjust government or non tolerating religions. You might have felt crushed under an unjust system and it took you a lot of will and conviction to find your individuality and build yourself how you wanted once you were free.

Your midheaven in taurus tells me you are one that will achieve any goals you set your mind to. It might take you time, you might procrastinate around it, but at the end of the day, you will do it and you will do it well and it will be rewarding. If your father isn't a Taurus then he was a stable figure in your life, very much a rock for better or for worse. In your career life people will see you as very competent, very down to earth and helpful but you know you just procrastinated till the last second possible and stayed up all night do finish your work... You will seek careers that you believe will guarantee you stable income and a comfortable life. You might indulge in luxury from time to time because you think in order to get the position you want at work you need to look the part. Ultimately it's your sheer stubbornness and spite that gets you all the way up to the top of the food chain.

The eleventh house of groups, friendships, humanitarianism, and social awareness is in your case in gemini. It tells me you value friendship extremely and you surround yourself with a diverse cast of friends, you couldn't mix your different friend groups if you tried and you have tried. You have the habit of being too friendly to everyone which makes you end up with more friends than you know what to do with. You are approachable but people can get the impression that you are putting up a show or a facade and your emotions arent genuine, it's not always the case but you need to be more truthful and assertive, put some boundaries and don't let people get away with shit you don't like. Your public persona is very well liked, seen as fun and bright and smart and overall a joy to be around.

Now that last placement... 12th house cancer, i have the same placement and babe I'm sorry for all the shit you have been through. You deserve the freedom to be unhappy and to express that unhappiness in healthy ways. You deserve to be given unconditional love and support no matter how many mistakes you say you have made no matter how overly pessimistic you are about yourself it doesn't matter you're amazing and i love you and you deserve the world.

With jupiter the planet of expansion in the 12th house of endings, spirituality, solitude and karma?! Gurl i did say u were a cult leader but i didn't think it was astrologically backed up rippp. But it also says you might have a hard time getting the motivation to finish things, you might take a long time to finish a project. This house placements also tells me you're amazing at writing emotional ass fantasy stories which by now we have confirmed, but if you have like, an original idea for a book don't hesitate to get it started babe bc u have a very promising placement for that. Don't get too dragged into a sad whirlpool of emotions and daydreams but bring your creative ideas to life and you'll be fine.

This is all I'm doing today and i think it's enough lol. I'm posting this I'm sorry to my followers for the long ass post I'll tag it so you can filter it. This was a whole psycho-astrological analysis of our favourite writer Hellspawn1975. I have wanted to study her like a new lizard species for a while and i finally got the chance thank you hella for the opportunity.

Final words to @hella1975 i hate you and I'll fuck ur mom tomorrow, gn babe <3

[sourwolfstories]

Hi! I know you're probably slammed with requests but i was wondering if you could rec some long fics without smut or skipable unimportant smut scenes? I'm sex repulsed and it's surprising difficult to find fics that don't make me uncomfortable

Okay so these are all at least 20 or 30 thousand words long each and are all either rated general audience or teen and up and I made sure to go through all of them so they shouldn’t have any smut or sex but if I did miss anything please let me know. Hope you enjoy!

Ghosts In The Suburbs by KaytiKazoo

Stiles gets cursed by a witch and can see dead people.

Here’s to the Static by matildajones

Stiles spends most of his college break in a coffee house where he stares after Derek Hale. For some reason, Stiles is unaware of the fact he’s quite the musician, and Derek amuses himself at Stiles’ obliviousness.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

Strangers Like Me by Alphaboner

“Stay back! Don’t come..don’t come any closer! Please don’t! Wh..what are you doing?” he let out a little laugh when Derek started to play with his toes “Ah-haha, no, please, don’t, that tickles!” Derek’s hand traveled from Stiles’ toes to his leg “No, get off, get off!” …to his belt “GET OFF!” he kicked Derek in the face, leaving him confused and aching, looking at Stiles with a scowl.

Get Back Up by Hepzheba

After taking the blame for his so-called friend Jackson and his stupid pot, Stiles is forced to work for the Hales at their horse ranch the summer before his last year in high school. At first he absolutely hates it but he comes to realize that there is actually is something fun about this ranch thing and that horses are more likable and complicated than he’d previously thought. He also comes to realize that it’s not only the horses that are interesting; there’s also Derek Hale.

Scowl and Sarcasm by dr_girlfriend

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single alpha in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a mate.

Whether or not Derek Hale felt that way was hardly a concern to the neighborhood — the very fact of his arrival was enough that the surrounding families seemed to consider him the rightful property of one or another of their eligible sons and daughters. That was, of course, before they met the man.

Only You, Sterek by im2old4thisotp

Derek gets the name of his soulmate off a Ouija board when he is ten. He’s obsessed with finding them, but then his life irrevocably changes. He erases the name from his life and determines to live free of those stupid words, “fate” and “destiny”.

But on the eve of his wedding, he gets a phone call that will change the course of his life forever, and show him that maybe destiny does have a hold on him, after all.

Or, the Sterek rewrite of the movie “Only You” that you never knew you wanted.

sorry about the elbows, sorry we lived here. by dreamer_of_dreams

“You’re doing it again, Derek. You’re running away. I know, alright? I’ve always known… You looked at him the way I wished you’d look at me. You came close some days, when you’re folding my tank tops and we’re talking about small, insignificant things. And I thought that was enough for a while. But it was plain to see, you were sitting around, waiting for him to call you home. He never did and you just carried on.”

“I wasn’t really waiting for him to call. I knew he wouldn’t. I don’t know how you got that impression.”

“Hmmm…Maybe because when we both thought you were dying, I leant over and kissed you… and you whispered his name.”

Just the Same by ericaismeg

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There’s just no way Derek Hale is human.***“I was wondering if you’re even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it’s ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It’s unfair for us. I mean, it’s obvious you work out, and I don’t, so that could be why, but like…I was just wondering if you were human, that’s all.”

“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”

“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can’t threaten him with shit.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Halevetica

What if all the crushes you ever had found out how you felt about them… all at once?

Stiles Stilinski keeps his love letters in a box his mother gave him. They aren’t love letters that anyone else wrote for him; these are ones he’s written. One for every boy he’s ever loved-five in all. When he writes, he pours out his heart and soul and says all the things he would never say in real life, because his letters are for his eyes only. Until the day his secret letters are mailed, and suddenly, Stiles’ love life goes from imaginary to out of control.

If I Followed You Home by tryslora

Stiles is living on his own in New York when he sees the unthinkable: one woman pushes another onto the tracks just before a subway comes. With Scott not moving in for several days, he is on his own with his grief and horror, and he decides to find closure by attending the dead woman’s funeral where he discovers that (1) the guy he’s been crushing on is the dead woman’s brother, and (2) her family somewhat adopts him, and (3) the woman who killed her might just want to kill him now. Life just got complicated.

Notes:

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original by Beerwolves, fearfrost1211

When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack.Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

home isn’t a place by Spikedluv

Ithaca, New York is known as a sanctuary within the supernatural community, and Cornell University is where creatures such as Kitsune and Selkies can safely attend college. Though Stiles doesn’t think he’s anything special (despite having a ‘spark’, whatever that is), he attends on Satomi’s recommendation; he wants to learn everything he can about the supernatural world so he can return to Beacon Hills and help Scott.

The last person Stiles expects to run into at Cornell is Derek Hale. Derek is gruff and grumpy, but despite that Stiles is drawn to him. When someone begins murdering supernatural students Laura Hale takes Stiles under her wing. Between attending class, hanging out with Kira, adopting a dog, and keeping score for the baseball team, Stiles investigates the deaths to figure out who’s killing his fellow students before he ends up a victim himself.

Through it all, Stiles learns the real meaning of ‘home’.

SuperWing, Stucky and SlaDick, Oh My! by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Well,” Nightwing said with an awkward laugh, “this is embarrassing. You are definitely not the Superman I was expecting.”

“You mean I almost missed out on having Nightwing leap into my waiting arms?” Derek asked teasingly. He couldn’t help it, the guy was adorable, and while he wasn’t exactly light, he already knew it was all muscle. This guy definitely worked out.

Nightwing let out a loud, boisterous laugh that had people around them turn to look, but he just grinned down at Derek before speaking.

“In that case, didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He waggled his eyebrows and Derek let out a small huff of a laugh. “I should probably, uh—get down.”

“Probably.”

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist.

Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope.

He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles.

“I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

An Unexpected Familiar by BabyWeWillRise

Homework over break sucks, right? Harris is at it again with making Stiles’ life horrible by giving him an essay over Christmas break and Stiles could not be anymore displeased.

Except…this stupid assignment leads him to something he didn’t think he was missing.

Or…

After his mother died when he was eight, Stiles (and his father) ran away from reality without looking back.

Now, ten years later, when the eighteen year old runs into a familiar face, he’s thrown back into a life he had completely forgotten about and is welcomed with open and loving arms.

To say he’s freaking out would be an understatement.

[punkscowardschampions]

Tommy & Meena

Tommy: [Late enough that the clean up is done and she could've potentially heard about some of the drama but not late enough that if there's a mcwalsh party whereby Ali gets knocked up that he wouldn't already be drunk at that feels like a starting point] Tommy: Cá mbeidh tú ag fliúchadh na seamróige? 🍀🧡💚 Meena: I was about to go down to the restaurant, just hang out there Meena: Caleb and Drew were going to some party but I was not invited so 🤷 Meena: What are you all up to? Tommy: 🍻🥃 Tommy: but the vibe's more drinking ourselves to death, doubt you want an invite either, like Meena: I think that's most people's vibe but they sound happier/more in denial about it...? Tommy: Yeah, it's casually cultural Meena: Yeah? Tommy: You're not feeling patriotic today? Meena: I don't really vibe it any day Meena: but that's not important Tommy: that's a no for the Irish dancing then, alright Meena: We can try Meena: I look even taller when I'm not allowed to move my upper body though Tommy: 😂 Meena: no leprechauns here Tommy: any 🌈💰? Meena: no more than normal 💔 Tommy: I'll be right there then 🌈✨ Meena: That's your superpower Meena: I don't know how 🍀🧡💚 Gus has gone, you'll probably feel more at 🏡 where you are Tommy: It ain't feeling very 🏡 but 💌 received Tommy: I'll stay put, feet & upper body Meena: Why not? Tommy: long story Tommy: you'll hear the short one at 🏫 probably Meena: You don't feel like telling it, understood Meena: is there anything I can do? Tommy: I don't know how to, more like Tommy: you'd redraft it before you were done with the 1st for being too Tommy: unreadable Meena: Nonsense poetry is my specialty Tommy: Yeah? Tommy: maybe you should've been there to roll out the welcome wagon for my new sister Meena: New sister? Meena: Oh, do you mean your mum's baby Meena: not baby now, from before Tommy: she definitely ain't a baby now Meena: So, she came and it went bad Meena: I'm so sorry, Tommy Meena: how bad are we talking? Tommy: bad as it gets Meena: Is your mum alright, I mean Meena: stupid question, but Tommy: It's a fair question & I wish the answer was yeah Tommy: or there was fuck all I could do Meena: That's terrible Tommy: I've gotta go back to school, how can I? Meena: For them Meena: sometimes all you can do is give everyone a small sense of normality Meena: even when you don't want to, or think you can't go on yourself Tommy: Ali can't hold down the fort all on her own, alright, she probably can, but she shouldn't have to Meena: She won't be Meena: she has Carly, and me and Ro and, loads of people, really Meena: I promise we'll all do what we can Tommy: Don't start me on Ro, she wasn't even there Meena: Where was she? Tommy: Fuck knows Tommy: I thought she might be with you Tommy: or your brother Meena: She wasn't with me Meena: maybe Drew but I doubt it, he's been out and about everywhere all day, obviously Tommy: she'll be at home then Meena: Oh, that's a bit Meena: I understand under normal circumstances the pub on St Paddy's is not her ideal place to be but as it was Meena: anyway, that's all to say, you don't need to worry about Ali, she has a good support system to support your parents and take care of Rocky Meena: do you have people YOU can talk to and lean on at school? Tommy: yeah, Carly's ace with him & Ali to have lasted this long, like Tommy: I ain't telling anyone at school about this, loads of 'em already think I'm trash Tommy: or come from it Tommy: they've got a point now Meena: No, they don't Meena: your family are some of the best people I know Meena: you're not anything to be ashamed of Tommy: Everyone around here knows that Joe would be your brother's best customer except he don't carry the right stuff & now loads of 'em also know she's as bad, nah, worse Tommy: & that together they're Tommy: I can't even fucking go there Meena: People shouldn't judge him by that, never mind you as his family Tommy: They do though Tommy: keeping my mouth shut about it at school is my best option Meena: as long as you can express yourself and have an outlet through your work, I can't say I blame you Meena: you don't have to tell everyone everything Tommy: or anything Tommy: 🩰 will do Meena: I shouldn't say anything against words, given who I am and what I want to be but Meena: a comfortable silence can be preferable to words you're unsure of, words that hurt, or that you don't want to speak into existence Tommy: Yeah, I'd take an uncomfortable silence over that too Tommy: everyone's hurting & unsure enough Meena: if it's good enough for Maya Meena: 🤐 Tommy: I didn't mean with you Meena: You can always talk to me Meena: no matter the quality or quantity of your words Meena: you know that Tommy: okay Meena: but no rush on it Meena: obviously Meena: and I won't fill the silence with total nonsense, like Tommy: but those poems are your speciality Tommy: self proclaimed, like, but still Meena: Rude to doubt me Meena: 🥬🐢🐌👑 Tommy: Gimme one then Tommy: best shot Meena Though some at my aversion smile, I cannot love the crocodile. Its conduct does not seem to me Consistent with sincerity. Meena: 🐊💔 Tommy: He is basically a 🐍 with feet Tommy: You 🖋 that? Meena: Sadly not Meena: I'll try to write something as appropriate scathing for your brother Tommy: Or as 💔 for me, yeah? Meena: Of course Meena: what could be better to cheer you up? 😏 Tommy: as a feel good goes it's obviously unrivalled even by 🍻🎵💃🕺 Tommy: that's the level of your talent Meena: You're either that drunk or you wish you were...code red either way Meena: you could come to the restaurant though, if you actually wanted Tommy: Get ahead at waiting tables for when the West End fucks me off & over Tommy: good thinking Meena: Please Meena: your name is already in lights, I can see it Meena: 🤩 Tommy: as you said please, I'll come Meena: manners maketh the man do what you want? Meena: interesting Tommy: works on this one Tommy: how much of a man I am is up for debate, usually Meena: People are idiots Meena: and too invested in stuff that doesn't affect them whatsoever Tommy: like you said, practically a local celeb at this point Meena: still, what's going on in your tights is just not their business Tommy: that's such a you way to put that Meena: I'll choose to take that as a compliment on me having a consistent voice Meena: though the alternatives are 🤔 Tommy: take as I miss you Meena: Are you back for long? Tommy: Nah, they ain't that patriotic either Tommy: I shouldn't even be here, wouldn't have been if she wasn't coming Meena: That's shittier Tommy: maybe JC is trying to keep me humble before I get too 🤩 Meena: It's Patrick that needs to make a second coming to banish your brother 🐍🐍 Tommy: he's already done that himself Meena: Oh, that was the purpose of today then? Meena: I get it Tommy: if he had one Tommy: might have just been out of his 🧠 on whatever 💊💉🥄🚬 Tommy: or worse so 😍 over her that's all that he gives a shit about besides the above Meena: Wait Meena: he's what? Tommy: you'll hear about it soon as you get back to class, they were doing it for everyone to see Tommy: her purpose given what it did to my ma Meena: Jesus Meena: that's Meena: you're right, no words Tommy: at least he one upped Fraze, I guess Meena: does make that situation seem totally run of the mill in comparison Meena: I have heard it happens Meena: when people who are related but estranged meet Meena: it's like a thing™ Meena: not that that helps you personally, obviously Tommy: Really?! Meena: [sends articles like nerd] Tommy: fucking hell Meena: It's crazy Meena: like you know there should be some strong emotional response but you kinda get it fucked up or something Meena: I don't know, science isn't my forte Tommy: nor mine, but if anyone would get those kind of wires crossed, it would have to be him Tommy: Jesus Meena: at least he didn't have a wife and kids to leave or something like some of these people Meena: it's really sad Tommy: you didn't see her though, she's like Tommy: terrifying Meena: I don't think they have to be a hottie but it probably helps in some cases Tommy: 😂 Meena: how so though? like what was she like Tommy: Alright so if they were putting a modern twist on Frankenstein's monster for the stage she could play that, but she'd need serious anger management first Tommy: electroshock wouldn't be far off, funnily enough Meena: Okay, that does sound scary Meena: even if looks can be deceiving, is the moral my own life has hit home hard, sounds like the insides matched so Tommy: It was like if you took every teenage horror story my ma has told us, scraped off the sugarcoating and then mixed that with the worst shit Fraze has ever done when he's on one, you still wouldn't come close to the mark Meena: I know the sort you mean Meena: no matter how well Drew and Caleb think they do with protecting me, I've had plenty of people approach me asking for them, messing with me Tommy: this once I'm gutted you know what I mean then Tommy: 'cause fuck that Meena: mostly it's the former and it's stupid little kids who want some weed or pills, that's just annoying but yeah Tommy: you know boxing's footwork is dead easy, I could teach you what my dad taught me Tommy: any time you want Meena: thanks Meena: at least my height would finally work in my favour, right? Meena: better reach Tommy: bigger 🎯 too remember Tommy: you have to keep your guard up to protect that face Meena: sounds like you're saying I'm 🌚 Tommy: 😮 Tommy: that's awkward Meena: *frantically googles how to shrink head* Tommy: nah, it's awkward 'cause you grew into your head ages ago & I didn't throw you a 🥳 or anything Tommy: must of happened all of a sudden or without me realising Meena: grew into it?! Meena: so I was a bobblehead before, thanks so much 😂 Tommy: only slightly Meena: I'm only slightly 💔 then Tommy: don't be, it was endearing Tommy: you were a cute kid Meena: okay 👵 Meena: no need to patronize me Meena: my head is only literally big, not metaphorically Tommy: come on, a 🍭 is a great look Meena: Better than a pea-head Tommy: or a 🍐 head like I've got Meena: it's distinguished Meena: be gutted you don't want to be a character actor Tommy: nice save, you can teach me ⚽ when we're done with 🥊 Meena: Sounds good to me Tommy: 👍 Tommy: [show up boy cos the restaurant can't be that far from the pub surely] Meena: [have a nerdy but more chill time, Gus loves everyone he's a good egg, I say you should go to this party for the drama of it all sod it] Tommy: [agreed x 2 the restaurant would have such a nice vibe when Drew and Caleb aren't there which they obviously aren't rn and then yeah we can get more messy with it] Meena: [okay so the plan, we having a lovely time (given the circumstances tonight lol) then her boyf shows up] Tommy: [I just picture her bf being so underwhelming like no offense but he'd have to be someone that Tommy didn't clock on socials so when he realises he's like oh and then dials his campness up to 1000000 being that gay BFF stereotype which she would pick up on immediately cos that's not how he is with her except when he's hiding behind it cos things are uncomfortable between them. I just imagine him raiding Ali & Carly's makeup and wardrobe and making the gayest cocktails he can and getting Meena involved and stealing her attention] Meena: [he wouldn't be and he's also lowkey an arsehole as per her type so he wouldn't be all ❤ on her socials anyway, but all this can be a thing 'cos not seeing the gay boy as a threat and probably wants to get drunk so] Tommy: [don't beat him up Tommy you don't want her to think you're doing it for Drew and Caleb like reasons] Meena: [at least we know you two are distracted] Tommy: [thanks for also getting Carly and Ali involved in your gay antics because we all need whatever fun we can get] Meena: [until you gotta go pregnant Ali] Tommy: [lord, I hope Tommy has left by then] Meena: [lordt] Tommy: [casual 3way with your missus and the less attractive drug dealer in town] Meena: [thank god your genetics are solid underneath that mess boy] Tommy: [and we know Rio looks like Ali anyways] Meena: [you do alright out of it kids] Tommy: [it could be so much worse] Meena: [blame your dad for your insecurities grace] Tommy: [and your evil nan] Meena: [junie is just #unique like no one looking like you boy, the closest is fraze as your uncle] Tommy: [unless he looks like Caleb's dad because we don't know him] Meena: [who can say baby] Tommy: [anyway take a moment to appreciate all the Tommy and Meena dancing everyone, giving you that for free] Meena: [love that] Tommy: [soz shit bf he is a threat because their chemistry especially when they are dancing is ridiculous goodbye] Meena: [deffo gonna get mardy at that and go off to have an argument] Tommy: [are you happy now Thomas? Thought not] Meena: [awkwarddd] Tommy: [get drunker boy that'll totally make it better and not worse] Meena: [cry in the bathroom that's a mood] Tommy: [ruin your make up, oh babe] Meena: [everyone else is so wrecked you'll fit in] Tommy: [by not doing drugs you're one of the least messy] Meena: [exactly dr phil] Meena: [the next day] Meena: Have a safe flight back Tommy: Cheers, I'll probably just 💤 Meena: Can't blame you Tommy: did you get any? Meena: Yeah, I'm fine Meena: had to get up early to clean the restaurant though so not as much as I'd ideally want Tommy: had another 🌱🍏🍈🥬🌿🍐🥝🥒🌼 juice, yeah? Tommy: that's pretty patriotic, you know Tommy: better late than never, like Tommy: throw 🍊🍑🥕 in there too & you're sorted Meena: Yeah, I bet EVERYONE in this fair nation is starting a juice cleanse this AM, not having a fry-up, nah Tommy: 😏 Tommy: green eggs & ham would keep you in theme Meena: 🤢 Tommy: fair 🍳🥞🧇🥓🥐🥯🍞 then Tommy: take your pick Meena: are you gonna post it to me? Tommy: be messy if you're having 🍳 or 🥞 but saves me having to use any words Meena: Probably best to stick to non-perishables Meena: best option for us both, like Tommy: Yeah Meena: How was it, this morning Meena: before you left Tommy: how you'd expect Meena: Yeah Tommy: Bea has to leave too so Fraze's dramatics will take centre stage for a sec but Meena: Distraction is probably the best technique for right now Tommy: worked last night Meena: I bet the parties you have in London are even better Tommy: only 'cause we 🩰 ain't supposed to be partying Meena: and what's more fun than prohibition, sure Tommy: forbidden 🍏🍎🍐🍊🍋🍌🍉🍇🍓🍈🍒🍑🥭🍍🥥🥝 juice is my fave, can't lie Meena: 🙄😏 Meena: enjoy Tommy: you're not supposed to give me your blessing, sucks the fun right out Tommy: forbidden, remember Meena: I'm not a teacher Tommy: yeah you are, whenever Anne needs you Meena: Okay, smartypants Meena: there's nothing I could teach YOU Tommy: not with THAT attitude Meena: 🤨 maybe next time Meena: bring your own 🩰 Tommy: & 🥊 Meena: a look Tommy: the 🩳 are too Meena: what do you wear on your top half though Meena: leotard? Tommy: lads don't usually wear anything to show off 💪 Meena: Who are you showing off to? Tommy: The other lad of course, name a sport that ain't homoerotic Meena: not when you come back here Tommy: when I come back here most of all Meena: no boys in my classes Tommy: Anne's been a letdown from the very beginning, what can I say? Tommy: you're on your own, Meeps Meena: I'll survive Tommy: I know

[lmsr-lilitu-sephiroth]

Dude, no one is born fucking evil. Thinking that way leads to eugenics. It's about choices and the decision to make the ‘easy’ choice that will absolutely hurt a lot of people, or the right one that means you actually reduce the harm you do.

And sometimes writing is a tool to understand motivation. To explore emotion. Jeez, it's almost like people have complex reasons to do anything. I just get so sick of these reductive, one-dimensional arguments. They never go anywhere good, because black-and-white thinking leads to nothing but witch hunts. How many times do we have to go through this?

And wasting energy on obsessing over the things in fiction, when fiction just doesn't follow all the same real-world rules, is just that. A fucking waste of your precious energy and time. Going after writers in such a witch hunt is merely taking the easy choice that will only hurt real people. A fictional character is just that. Fictional. Not a real person with agency. You know who is? The writers.

People like to write horrifying things for various reasons. Do I want to interact with anything that involves detailed abuse? Hell no, because I don't want to experience the flashbacks to kick up. But I can't magically wipe all the problematic media from existence. And there is media that I find Because that kind of witch doesn't exist, so I of course can't. Instead, I can only curate what I see and interact with to my own preferences.

If you really want to protest problematic media, go after people who write for big-name media producers. Writers on places like AO3 (which is nonprofit, by the way), or any other online space dominated by fanfiction, literally have no power over the world of media. If you're so terminally online that you think only fanfiction online has any sway over public consciousness, then you're a fool. And if you think you can get ahead or gain respect for punching down, you clearly don't understand how the system works. Respectability politics are a farce. The authorities you're trying to appeal to probably hate you as much as you hate these ‘problematic creators’. You're suffering a delusion that small-time creators actually affect places like Hollywood. They do not.

I swear so many people don't understand how the mind works. Fiction provides a safe outlet because most people can tell the difference between fiction and reality. Reading or writing fiction lets people explore uncomfortable topics without actually hurting real people. If they do then go out and hurt a real, living, breathing person, it probably wasn't because of writing or reading that little tiny piece of fiction.

Horror, as an example, exists as a genre for a fucking reason. It's a safe outlet to explore the deepest, darkest recesses of our minds. I once found a Cardcaptor Sakura fan comic I wish I hadn't. I found it gross as hell. I vamoosed as quickly as I could once I realized what it was (this was so long ago I barely remember, though). But I can't stop people from uploading that stuff online because no one has that kind of control over the internet. You don't have to like some of the content people create. You are absolutely free to find it gross.

And the thing is, you do have to actively seek this stuff out.

On that note, quit with the puritanism. It helps no one and gets marginalized people hurt the most, including and especially the innocent ones.

I feel I'm repeating myself, but seriously. All people are individual and should not be beholden to arbitrary standards in fiction alone. Unless you can physically prove they harmed other living people, you can't do anything because of fiction. If you want to think someone is a creep, ok. Stay away from them as best as you can. But thought crimes don't exist. Stop being a Puritan.

Stop trying to mind control other people's creativity because they don't write only according to your puritanical standards. Fictional characters are like puppets for you to play with. People struggling with emotions need an outlet so they don't actually hurt others.

Stop thinking of other people like they're beholden to your main character syndrome. This isn't a game where you can modify everything around you with impunity.

Stop infantilizing everyone. Stop acting as if others are unable to realize the line between fiction and reality. Stop acting like the people who write the stuff you find repulsive speak for an entire fandom.

Witch hunting groups inevitably tear themselves apart eventually once they've run out of outsiders to target.

I usually don't like to jump into discourse online, and I refuse to actively take part in shipcourse. But writing fiction is something I'm actually passionate about. And I just want to point some things out about trying to control what others write, even if you ‘mean well’. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

If you really want to make sure the fiction isn't hurting real people, you'll get better results if you get off your high horse and engage content creators where they're at.

90% of arguments about media could just be solved by saying “different people like different things in their stories” and leaving it at that