human-monsters
I read The Shining in 2019 and never recovered
they/heStephen King and tangentially related horror
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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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every time i start to feel cringe for being too deep in the hyperfixation i remember the intense depression i have waded through and have to remind myself that enjoyment is fleeting (so grab it with both hands), and life is for loving (so hold that love close), and if anyone thinks i’m cringe they must not be having a very good time (and i hope they can find a good time soon).
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Far worse, in my opinion, than the famous “he wouldn’t fucking say that” is “he WOULD fucking say that, as part of his facade, but you seem to think he would mean it genuinely”
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Successfully collected 900 of you in my Clowntown shenanigans?!? Here’s a treat for you all ily!
Headcanon from @sunshinereddie : "Eddie cuddles Richie in bed like a koala. He has a grip of STEEL and Richie has to pry his arms off of himself in the morning."
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(Part 2 of this)
“Wait, back?!”
Eddie’s head shoots up, his eyes wide. “Then!” he cries. “You liked me back then, is what I was saying!”
“You liar!” Richie laughs, clearly delighted. “You fucking liked me too!”
“I never said that!” Eddie tries to deny, but it sounds weak to even himself.
The thing is, and god, it’s embarrassing to admit, but Eddie had always had a bit of a thing when it came to Richie.
He didnt think it was exactly romantic, and definitely not anything sexual, when he was a kid; little-him would have been positively scandalized at the mere thought of it. But he was drawn to Richie, wanted his approval, his respect, needed Richie to include him in his inside jokes and think he was just as funny as Eddie found him.
Hell, maybe that was Eddie’s version of love. Not that he would know.
“I hate you,” he tells Richie, whose grin stretches even wider across his face. It’s basically an admission and they both know it. “You’re one to talk, anyway.” He gestures to the carving. “I wasn’t the one carving our initials into make-out spots.”
“Yeah, but you were cute. Liking you made sense,” Richie replies. “You remember me as a kid? You were into that gangly, bug-eyed, buck-toothed little dork? Embarrassing.”
“You were so cute!” Eddie cries, throwing away the act, offended on young-Eddie’s behalf to have his taste questioned. “Plus, you were cool.”
Richie bit back a snort. “I was not cool.”
“Shut up, you were!” Eddie looks him over, pouting just a little. “You’re still cool.”
“Cooler than you, Mr. Risk Analysis, but that isn’t saying much.” Eddie throws his arms up, ready to lay into him with the fury of a thousand suns, when Richie speaks again, quieter, “You’re still cute, ya know.”
Eddie flushes, glances at Richie briefly to catch him flushing as well, and bends down to pick up a stick from the side of the road. He gestures to the carving, shyly. “Wanna give this a bit of a facelift?” he asks. “We could grab a beer, after.”
Richie, looking like Christmas has come early, grabs a stick and pops back up, beaming and blushing adorably. “It’s a date.”
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“Tah-dah.”
The combination of the deadpan tone and the perky little spirit finger wiggles is enough to make Eddie roll his eyes and scoff at Richie’s antics, so he opens his mouth and starts to call him a fucking idiot.
That is, until he actually gets a look at what it is Richie is showing him.
There, carved into the old wood of The Kissing Bridge, are the letters R+E.
He blinks down at them in something like surprise. “The fuck is this?” he asks. Richie frowns, irritated.
“It’s our fucking initials. What the fuck does it look like?”
“Well, why are our initials carved here?” Eddie asks, not meanly or anything, but definitely bewildered. “Who the fuck wrote our initials here?” He steps closer and bends down to get a better look. “This looks old. Is this from when we were kids? I never noticed this before. Did someone do this to make fun of us or something? Why wouldn’t they tell us? Did they tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Richie waits for Eddie to finish the worst game of twenty-questions in history, exuding the kind of patience he didn’t even know he was capable of as Eddie goes on for what feels like forty fucking minutes.
“Dude,” he finally bursts out, unable to take it anymore, “I carved those. Me. Jesus Christ.”
Eddie blinks up at him, all eyes and freckles, confused. “You did this?”
“Yes.”
“When we were kids?”
“Yes.”
“So…” Eddie looks at the wood and then back at Richie again, and Richie tries not to burst into a million pieces as he sees the cogs slowly turning in Eddie’s head.
“Oh my god, get there faster!” he finally snaps, and Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Shut the fuck up, dude! You had thirty years to know about this shit, I’ve had thirty fucking seconds, I’m fucking processing!” Richie throws his arms into the air and does a weird, exasperated little circle as Eddie continues to inspect the carving, his brows furrowed. “You carved our initials into the kissing bridge when we were kids,” he states again, just to hear the whole thing put together, and gingerly runs his index finger over the plus-sign. “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Richie asks, cringing.
“Obviously not, if I’m fucking asking.”
Richie’s heaves a sigh. “I liked you,” he finally admits. Somehow, the world doesn’t end. He briefly thinks teenage-Richie would have been surprised by that.
Eddie traces his finger along the E now, slowly. “You liked me back?” he says, so quietly it takes Richie a moment too long before he realizes what Eddie said.
“Wait, back?!”
(Part 2 here)
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For the first time in my life, a non filthy thought in the shower:
Think about all the fan fiction you’ve read — all the hours of entertainment, or something to ease your boredom or to soothe your sleepless night.
All you’ve learned from it — either a writing skill, a new vocabulary word, a new structure or something about interpersonal relationships, or how to deal with hard times in your life.
And all the fic that you remember — your very favorite, some that you still recall scenes from, some that still make you smile or make you ache.
All the fic you have saved on your phone to reread over and over again.
Writers: YOU write that. YOU DO. You write something so extraordinary, something so real but also something so filthy and fun and the perfect way to soothe a frayed mind or just enjoy for pure pleasure — YOU WRITE THAT.
Isn’t that incredible to think of your stories being those above things for someone?
Because they are (for me, for one, but others too) — and we are so lucky you share it with us.
Also — how amazing it is to know that all the things you cherish about fic, you’ve given as a gift to others? ❤️
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Alright, to ao3's soon to be arriving Wattpad Refugees, a basic guide to general user culture:
1.) Unlike Wattpads vote system that let's you like each chapter, the ao3 equivalent kudos only allows one per work. Everyone is generally quietly annoyed about this. To engage with each chapter, you're heavily encouraged to comment. Trust me, it makes people's day.
2.) Ao3 has no algorithm. By default it's latest updated work first. You can find things to your taste through searches, filters and tags.
3.) 'No archive warnings apply' and 'user has chosen not to use archive warnings' mean two very different things. No archives warnings means the work is free from any content that could require a warning tag (character death, graphic depictions of violence, non-con, etc). User has chosen not to use archive warnings means it could contain any of the warning content, be it hasn't been explicitly tagged. Treat it like an allergen. No archive warnings apply is allergen free. User has chosen not to use archive warnings, may contain traces or whole chunks of the allergen. If you're likely to have a bad reaction, maybe don't take the risk.
4.) Speaking of warnings, ao3 has very few restrictions on the type of work that's allowed. Whatever your personal thoughts or feelings on that are, thats how the site is. You're likely to run across some dark subject matters and a lot of people are uncomfortable with reading that. You're well within your rights not like these works and have your opinion on whether they should be allowed, but harassing the authors of such works (or any works) is more likely to come back on you than them. Ao3 operates on a strong policy of 'don't like, don't read'. Use the tagging system to your full advantage to only engage with the kind of works you want to see.
We look forward to welcoming you all and seeing the fantastic works you create. Happy writing!
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“source?” divine intuition, gut instinct, and cryptic symbolism from my dreams
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the fic Crosseyed & Painless by @gaylittlerichie has taken ahold of my brain and i drew fanart for the first chapter
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Three modes of feelings toward characters as the writer is writing them:
These fuckers (affectionate)
These fuckers (annoyed)
These fuckers (literal)
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i feel like i have rabies but like emotionally
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And when the seasons change, will you stand by me?
(Mind Over Matter (Reprise))
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And when the seasons change, will you stand by me?
(Mind Over Matter (Reprise))
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the whole point of fanfic is to read about a guy who is literally just existing and then everything goes wrong and then everything goes wrong and then everything goes wrong and then everything goes wrong and then he fucks nasty style and then everything goes wrong and then everything gets all cute for a moment and then everything goes wrong and then everything goes wrong and th- Chapters: 35/? Updated: 2022-09-05
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