c r y p t

20+. He/Him. MDNI. Because I’m not watering down shit for y’all. I write, mod, and sit on my husband’s lap for treats. Neurospicy.

[midnightsbang]

Launching ☽

Welcome to the after hours event. When the dark seeps in, and they clock out for the evening, it's time to tell the stories of what happens once the sun sets. Late night cigarettes, romance, and doves that die. Welcome, to midnights.

Introducing: The BakuShinBaku Bang

Any questions can be asked here

@thebigbangblogproject

[senkuzine]

🧪INTEREST CHECK OPEN💫

Calling all scientists! The interest check for Into the Stone Age is now open! Please let us know what you'd like to see in our anthology at the link below~

Into The Stone Age Interest Check

Welcome to the Into The Stone Age Interest Check! This SFW only anthology is open to anyone aged 18 & up. We want to celebrate everything Dr

[crypt-exe]

🥀🕯 Crypt lore

If anyone is wondering if 9-1-1 (The show) is addicting:

So, one autumn evening (for me), I decided to show my boyfriend 9-1-1 because I've been seeing Buddie everywhere again, and as we are a gay couple, I needed him to rant with me about them, and justify the tension I'm seeing (Don't judge. I'm doing the same with NCIS). That's how the journey started.

Us just watching Buck kick ass and meet Eddie. Bobby being everyone's dad, and soon, Bobby and Athena. It was a wonderful time. But, somewhere during season 1, he lets me know that he's applying to be a dispatcher. Three weeks later, he got the job.

And now, just because I decided to show him my little quirky gay firefighter show, I'm dating a dispatcher. I think I won.

PSA: Buck and Josh weren't crazy about the full moon. Dispatchers ACTUALLY avoid that shift like sin.

[torrintaighofficial]

Me: “idk man I have the book outlined and scenes written but I can’t find the inspiration for book two.”

*listens to “Damocles”*

Me: “Guys, gals, and non-binary pals, we have book two.”

[crypt-exe]

*Me with Caramel*

When Vessel speaks, the muse listens 🥀🕯

[holmesandtheroman]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[daily-prompts]

“I begin, about 12, with writing materials, write a few lines, then get a glass of water — another line or so — smoke a cigarette — another line — play with the kitten — and then break for a cup of tea. But somehow, a book does get written.”

--Ethel Lina White on her writing process

[crypt-exe]

🕯️ from the crypt...

✦ the offering that was never accepted by the gods ✦ sharpening your teeth just to wear out your vocal cords screaming ✦ isolation

dead dove | tragedy | problematic relationships. snippet under the line ✦ as seen on twitter

"His breathing was shallow and the shadows underneath his eyes told stories of grief that nobody could understand. There was a collective sigh of relief when he finally wrestled the door open, and disappeared behind the drapes of obscurity once again. The city started moving again, unaware of the tragedy being orchestrated from the dark."

[nicolegendary]

obsessed with the thought i just had of eddie coming out to buck and buck immediately rejecting it because he just spent the last month fixated on eddie being straight and resting his whole worldview on how straight eddie is. like

"buck... i'm gay."

(a beat) "no you're not."

"i--what? (startled laugh) buck i think i get to be the authority on this"

"on you... what- being gay??"

"yes!"

"no you don't! because you're straight! i know you're straight!!"

"...i genuinely don't know what's happening right now. are you being homophobic? i swear i remember you coming out to me and then dating a man, that happened right?"

"im not being a homophobe! i'm just saying you're probably just confused right now and this is just a phase and it'll pass- ok wait im hearing it now"

[darlinggod]

god keep ur fucking kink meme shit out of ao3 tag y'all make this fandom even more insufferable than it already is and thats saying something!!! The kind of shit y'all post require a fucking trigger warning it doesnt belong in a safe space

[misshoneywheeler]

Hello! I see there’s been some confusion! Allow me to clear something up: AO3 is not a safe space.

Let me repeat that. Archive Of Our Own is not a safe space, not in the way you mean it.

From the AO3 Terms of Service:

Why does the Archive have a goal of maximum inclusiveness?

There are a number of wonderful specialized archives. Our aim with this Archive is to provide a place to preserve as many fanworks as possible. At the same time, the Archive software can be used by anyone to create their own archives, including archives limited to particular topics, fandoms, or ratings.

What kind of content do you allow?

We will not remove content from the Archive because it contains explicit material, as long as it doesn’t violate any other part of the content policy (e.g., the harassment policy).

One basic consequence is that users are responsible for reading and heeding the warnings provided by the creator. Risk-averse users should keep in mind that not all content will carry full warnings. If you want to know more, you may also wish to consult the bookmarks that people other than the creator have used to categorize the fanwork.

Some creators do not want to put specific ratings or warnings on their works. Our policy aims to enable creators to choose appropriate labels or to opt not to use ratings and warnings, with the understanding that some users will avoid unrated or unwarned content.

The ratings/warnings policy is really minimal. Why is this?

We believe that appropriate ratings and warnings are often in the eye of the beholder. Users who feel that a fanwork lacks an appropriate rating/warning are encouraged to try to resolve the issue with the creator. Users may also add tags of their own to on-site bookmarks of a fanwork, which other users can consult for more information. When those tags are present, you can click on the “Bookmarks” link at the top of the work to see them.

The stated desires/goals when AO3 was conceived and initially developed can be found here, on a livejournal post from @astolat (founder of VidCon, Yuletide, and AO3, and all around fannish legend). In short, the goal was “allowing ANYTHING – het, slash, RPF, chan, kink, highly adult.” 

And that, in fact, is precisely what AO3 hosts. You see, AO3 is a safe space for fanfiction. It’s a safe space for people to explore all kinds of fannish content without fear of banning, deletion, or legal reprisal. It was founded, designed, and developed to be a safe space for fandom and fannish works.

There also seems to be some confusion about the nature of safe spaces vs. trigger warnings. A fannish work that merits a trigger warning isn’t something that doesn’t belong in a safe space. The trigger warning is what MAKES something a safe space despite the presence of fannish works that merit warnings.

Something else to consider: there are many other things that include het, slash, RPF, chan, kink, and highly adult material, in addition to incest, pedophilia, infanticide, necrophilia, rape, bestiality, sadism and violence, adultery, and all manner of other things. 

So holding individual women (because that’s what fandom primarily is, women exploring their sexuality in a safe forum filled with other women doing the same) accountable for their fictional exploration of things that a) exist in real life in genuinely damaging forms, b) have significant impact on women themselves, thus leading in some part to the urge to explore those things safely, and c) have existing in movies, television, popular culture, the Bible, and in all of literature since literature began? Well, that’s just an extension of the same culture that polices women’s sexuality in the first place and drives them to find safe ways to explore it.

[alienor-woods]

Ding ding ding we have a winner 🙌🏼

[fuckyeahfightlock]

[vulgarweed]

AO3 was pretty much meant to be a safe space …  FOR WRITERS.

FOR WRITERS TO POST PRETTY MUCH ANYTHING AS LONG AS IT IS ADEQUATELY WARNED FOR AND MEETS THEIR CLEARLY POSTED CRITERIA.

IT LITERALLY EXISTS TO PROTECT FANWORKS FROM BEING CENSORED, THREATENED BY LAWYERS, OR TAKEN DOWN OR ALTERED AGAINST THE WRITER’S WILL. THIS APPLIES TO ALL WORKS THAT MEET ITS TOS. ALL OF THEM. YES, INCLUDING AND ESPECIALLY THAT REALLY ICKY ONE.

THAT IS LITERALLY ITS PURPOSE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. IT WILL NOT CHANGE ITS PURPOSE AND SUDDENLY DECIDE SOME KINDS OF CENSORSHIP ARE OKAY NOW BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE YELL.

If this makes anyone personally uncomfortable, there’s a very easy way to avoid that. Just don’t use AO3. Problem solved.

[harriet-spy]

I guess I should be glad that we have built a world where young fans can be so deeply ignorant of fannish history that they think that the mechanism of repression they’re invoking wasn’t originally built and used to silence them, and so easily could be again.  Their assumption is that they are entitled to have fandom feel comfortable and safe for them; it literally does not occur to them that within their own short lifespans you had to have separate and sometimes secret lists and archives for slash because “nobody wants to see that” and “it’s gross/against God’s will” and “what if the children see it!!!”  (I remember a man knitter having to quit the freaking knitlist because he took such shit just for referring to his partner as “DH/DB” (dear husband/boyfriend) the way the women knitters did theirs.)  And even within the slash community…the very first Smallville slash mailing list tried to ban strong language and graphic content.  A rebel splinter had to break off and found ClarkLex to publish all kinds of stories.  That was only in 2001!  

I know it’s a good thing that we’re now in a world where indignant young people have no idea how vulnerable they historically have been and still are in this particular context.  The time before: that was worse, for many people.  But it’s still very tiring to see.

Please, indignant young people, do start up your own archives where the Problematic Content is banned.  You’ll be setting each other on fire within the year over just where the line is to be drawn.  And advancing your actual cause not at all. 

[brydeswhale]

AO3 is big and easy to use and I have seen some fucked up shit there.

Fandom is becoming mainstream. We need to reconsider if “because you CAN write it, no other reason necessary” is a good philosophy these days. It may be that AO3 needs to reconsider its philosophy and possibly change.

[octopuscato]

Excuse me? What’s wrong with writing something “because I can”? What other philosophy do you want us to adopt? Let’s see if this fits mainstream criteria of normalcy, of “good” and “moral”?  And the answer to that is: NO. A huge big NO. This is why AO3 was created after LJ strikethrough in 2007 - because we wanted a space where it didn’t matter how weird or kinky or fucked up a story is. Where it didn’t matter that it’s not mainstream. Where we wouldn’t be judged, nobody could delete our stuff and nobody could try holding us legally accountable simply for writing something that’s not to their tastes (as long as there is no actually illegal material). 

It may be that AO3 needs to reconsider its philosophy and possibly change.

Why would they “need” to do that? For what reason? AO3 is precisely what we need - apparently now not only to ward off attacks from outside fandom as it used to be, but from inside fandom as well.

[puntointerrogativo]

“It may be that AO3 needs to reconsider its philosophy and possibly change.”

NO. Ao3 doesn’t *need* to do a damn thing. If you (and plenty of other people, evidently) think that fandom needs a more mainstream, sanitized space/archive go ahead and make it happen, the source codes are out there (and good luck deciding about how clean is clean enough).

I have seen this exact response given over and over again -make your own space, go on and do it yourselves- and it’s always ignored or treated like a dismissal. It’s NOT a dismissal, this is how everything in fandom gets created. This is how ao3 was created: a bunch of people wanted it enough to make it happen. We donated money, time and workto make it happen. And the folks at ao3 did such a good job that the result is now the biggest and most well known fandom archive. But it was born from a bunch of people who wanted to give fanfics a safe space and were willing to work for it.

Every time I see people huffing and ignoring the perfectly logical suggestion to “get together and create the fandom space that you want” I can’t help but think that they just don’t care enough about their ideas to be willing to put in the work (and if so, why should we care enough to do their work for them?) or worse, are just in it for the joy of policing and shaming others

[octopuscato]

THIS.

We didn’t like how it was done elsewhere, so we built AO3. You don’t like how AO3 does it? WELL GO BUILD YOUR OWN SPACE INSTEAD OF DEMANDIG AO3 TO DO AS YOU PLEASE! DAMN IT!

This entitlement is so disgusting.

[lorchidae]

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

[elveatas]

As we say in Danish, “if you don’t like the smell of the bakery, you can eat somewhere else.”

[joshuakellin]

“U think House is a bottom bc u r ableist and don’t think disabled people can top blah blah blah” no I think he’s a bottom bc of that one scene where him and Wilson r talking abt blood types and Wilson says his blood type is the universal receiver so House responds that Wilson’s blood type is the universal donor which is why he has 3 alimonies

[vesanalt]

Me when I finally found someone to share all of my writer brainrot autism and stories and characters with

[crypt-exe]

@ my boyfriend who is now included in all of my brainrot and character shipping and bashing. <3

[crypt-exe]

Blister & Blood

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 5 ALTERNATE—Major Injury Fandom: Arcane Ship: Silco x Vander | Vanco Rating: M Tags: MCD, anti-Vander. No, seriously. Bad guy Vander. Vulnerable Silco. Canon Divergence.

Silco looked at the drawing he made of him and Vander, smiling down softly at their colours melding into each other. It was one of their better days—coming up with their Blister & Bedrock mantra. A vow to create a safe space for all the children, and their children. But, those days started getting fewer in between.

When Felicia died, so did the goodness between him and Vander, until one day.

Vander was on something that Silco couldn’t identify, at the end, he could just have started hating Silco. As if it was only Silco’s job to keep Felicia safe. All he knew was that Vander blamed him. And one day. Silco decided to fight back.

He decided to stand up for himself, to say that it wasn’t only on Silco and that it wasn’t right for Vander to keep fucking blaming him and reminding Silco of everything that they had lost.

He very quickly realised he made the wrong choice when Vander pushed him up face first against the wall and ground his head into the jutting brick. He tried to close his eyes but he could feel the pricks of the brick against his face before he could fully manage it. He felt something wet roll down his face, but he knew he couldn’t be crying—the other option seemed too harrowing to accept.

Vander pressed his pelvis into Silco’s back, and he could feel his entire body get crushed against the wall. It stuck through his clothes, and tore the more sensitive fabrics, and Vander just pushed his head further into the wall before leaning closer.

“Where do you get off telling me it’s my fault? Telling ME that I had to do MORE? You’re just a sniveling goddamn brat that didn’t get enough attention in this godforsaken place. You’d be nothing without me.” Silco could hear the sneer in Vander’s voice, and it broke small parts of him that he wasn’t sure had existed anymore. The abandoned boy inside of him cried out in pain and fear.

“I…didn..I didn’t say. You..” He couldn’t find his voice. Couldn’t keep it even.

“YES YOU DID! My fault that Felicia died? God,” Vander’s chuckle was hollow, “I loved her. I would never have let anything happen to her.” There was a sick satisfaction in Silco’s chest. Confirmation on something that he had suspected for years. That Vander only started dating Silco to get closer to Felicia, and since she died. Vander didn’t care about him anymore. 

Silco knew that Vander’s temper was short, and that it snapped because the next moment his face was being crushed by the wall. Vander held Silco’s hair in a tight grip and started smashing his head against it. 

Silco couldn’t feel the pain anymore, but he felt a sharp burning in his abdomen, but he couldn’t place if it was a blade or not. He could start to see little orbs of light floating in his vision. Looking like specks of dust but in a rainbow of colours, and he almost gasped at the beauty.

All in all. He had an extremely good life. He had morals and he was at the forefront of a revolution. Two little girls who he could hold when they were sad, and sometimes help them to feel better. His vision went black, and he could feel his breathing shallow out while his body was being used like a ragdoll for frustration.

It’s enough that it’d been good.

It had to be enough.

[crypt-exe]

When it all comes down

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 4—"I trusted you" Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Ship: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku | BakuDeku Rating: M Tags: MCD

The fight was nothing that Bakugou had ever seen before. It took everything he had not to run into the fray, but he had strict orders to stay on the sidelines. The villain that they were apprehending had a multiplication quirk. Multiplying every attack thrown his way. And if Bakugou got involved, everyone in the surroundings would be in danger. His explosions would burn everything in the surroundings to the fucking ground, and it was driving him insane.

De—Izuku was there. In the middle of all of it. Their relationship wasn’t common knowledge, but it was something big and important enough for Bakugou to feel that his entire heart and soul was out there on the battlefield.

He was supposed to do recon and catch any flyaway villains, but his eyes were glued to the intense battle in the middle of the city block.

Izuku was chosen because his quirk wasn’t natural. He was chosen for his. And it was the one loophole they could find where the villain’s quirk wouldn’t work, but it didn’t help that the villain touched everyone he could to get to Izuku.

He was pacing, and he had enough of their friends watching him from the corner of their eyes, confused at his actions.

He couldn’t care about their questioning glances, or the theories running around in their minds, until… the villain threw Izuku with strength akin to Gigantomachia’s. 

He fell from the sky like a ragdoll, and Bakugou’s mind completely blanked. He didn’t think about the other Heroes, or the civilians, or even the fucking Villain that put them in that position to start. He used his explosions to fly to Izuku, but he wasn’t fast enough. He heard the sickening crack on the sidewalk and he faltered. That second of fear was enough for him to lose his momentum and fall close to where Izuku did.

It felt like the whole world was on fire, but Bakugou army-crawled through the debris to get closer. The villain was busy breaking everything down. Buildings were on fire, and crumbling, but Bakugou got to him.

The sight was one that Bakugou had seen all through their High School career. Izuku broken, in pain, and bleeding. But this time. Something was different. People were starting to crowd around them but Bakugou threw indiscriminate blasts all around them to keep the onlookers away. 

“Izuku? Baby, please…” He whispered, but. There was no reaction. Izuku didn’t suddenly start breathing, or open his pretty green eyes to stare at Bakugou and ask what he was on about.

Bakugou tried to do CPR, but he couldn’t focus long enough to do it properly. He just ended up punching at Izuku’s chest trying to get a reaction…any reaction. But nothing was working.

He couldn’t end this way. It.. couldn’t. Him and Izuku were still figuring out their lives, trying to get it on track. They. Wanted to work on their issues to the point where they could tell their friends about their relationship, but they couldn’t get it right..not yet.

He tore open Izuku’s stupidly complicated Hero costume, but even then, he had no idea where to go. He wasn’t a medical Hero. He wasn’t someone who knew what to do.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, IZUKU. YOU CAN’T… LEAVE.” Bakugou put his ear to Izuku’s chest as he pushed his fingers against the pulse point, but there was nothing. Just a straight line of zero activity. Bakugou also couldn’t feel any breath release from Izuku’s mouth or nose.

Everything around Bakugou was crumbling, just like the buildings in the city block. He was being pelted with debris, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he sent another blast. He heard a small yelp, and he was just glad that the person was moving away. Disappearing from his bubble.

“YOU FUCKING DEKU. YOU BETTER. JUST…” His throat was raw from the yelling and he was getting tired. He was… giving up.

He rolled onto his knees and held Izuku’s tattered costume in his hands.

He could feel his eyes welling up, but he looked into the sun to try and keep the tears at bay.

“I trusted you. I trusted you to stay. To build a life with me. To,” stay. He couldn’t say it out loud, because. Izuku was supposed to be different. He was…supposed to be the one.

Bakugou got pulled away from Izuku’s body and he was swarmed by other Heroes. Some were glaring at him, others just looked at him and he could see the questions in their eyes.

Izuku was taken away from Bakugou.

And the further away he got. The more Bakugou broke.

Everything…was gone.

[crypt-exe]

Shatter

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Castiel x Dean Winchester | Destiel Rating: T Tags: My boyfriend said it ouch in a good way (he said I can quote him on it)

It will forever be one of Dean’s biggest regrets. Not saying anything, taking the time to process what was actually said, and not responding—not reacting in any way. Cas had said the words so softly that Dean wasn’t sure what it was, until the words branded themselves in his brain. Something he’d never be able to wash off or forget.

I love you

That was what left Cas’ lips. He could feel the anguish from the angel more than he could hear it. The words spoken as a last resort. His way of letting Dean into the deepest parts of him yet unexplored by any mortal being. Parts that Dean had subliminally been begging for over the years they’d spent together.

Little echoes of Cas’ voice lingered, when the man himself didn't. Dean tried to convince himself that it wasn’t Cas’ choice. That nobody could have foreseen him being swallowed into Hell as the conclusion to the story, and Dean knew. He couldn’t go back there. He had a one free access pass to Crowley’s domain and he had already used it.

A year before when a demon pulled Cas away from Dean. Again in a situation just like he was faced with right then.

Dean could hear the crack when he fell to his knees in that dusty warehouse. The place that was forever immortalised as where their story began—and ended. No interlude, no body of work. Just Cas saying those wretched words that Dean had waited for. Begged for. Dreamed about.

He stared at the spot where Cas was standing only moments before.

Saw the tears that glimmered as he said the words an angel was banned to speak. But, for Dean, he let go of propriety yet again.

The moment was akin to a heated blade searing its way into Dean’s stomach. On the inside there would barely be a mark to show what he had gone through, but god. The pain.

His throat felt raw and it was only when he felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder that he realised it’d been him screaming. Yelling out for an angel no longer there, a miracle that was never his for the taking.

A prayer that wouldn’t get answered.

“I love you too.” Words that he whispered so soft, with only himself and Sam as witnesses to the weighted statement. One that Cas would never hear.

And what tore Dean apart was that now, with only Crowley and kin for company, Cas would never know how loved he really was. How highly ranked he really was in Dean’s head.

That all the sacrifices and deviance from his path had never been for nought.

That he was who Dean turned to in times of need and elation.

“I LOVE YOU.” The second time he used all of his strength to scream. All the feelings that he’d bottled up under the guise of needing to get the job done, and that they weren’t ready, flowed into his voice. And for only a second, he could pretend that Cas heard it.

That he wasn’t too late, and that Cas would come back.

For a second. He could believe that it would be alright.

[crypt-exe]

The gentleness of caring

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 2—Chronic Pain Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Ship: Bakugou Katsuki x Todoroki Shouto | TodoBaku Rating: T Tags: Reincarnation AU, dreams of previous life, chronic pain, domesticity Beta: @sysiumblue

The nightmare that Katsuki had was familiar, but so much worse than usual. Dark views of someone that looked surprisingly like him in a tight shirt and cargo pants and fighting someone a lot bigger than himself. And then, he felt the heat prickle through his veins, before the big boom that he could feel in his wrists. The bones felt like shattering, but they were kept together by a sheer force of will from his body.

Those dreams are how he tries to explain away his wrist problems in day-to-day life, because no doctor could ever find an answer. Nobody knew why he’d be feeling the pain that he was.

He felt a shift in the sheets next to him a few seconds before Shouto’s head popped out from under the mountains of blankets he swears he needs. His eyes immediately fell to where Katsuki was massaging his right wrist. The dreams always made the pain more pronounced.

Without saying anything, Shouto gave him a kiss on his temple before climbing out of bed. Katsuki knew that it was to get all the creams, tapes and guards he always adorned Katsuki with to survive throughout the day.

They didn’t need words for this ritual anymore, Katsuki just hoped he could probably show his appreciation for Shouto the way the love of his life deserved it. But, that brought up the pod of guilt Katsuki always felt after the dreams. He couldn’t tell Shouto. That they always fought. Almost to the point of death. How Katsuki had died at some point.

That even less than lovers, they were sworn to be enemies by trade.

Shouto padded back into the room in his too-big pajamas, and sat cross-legged next to Bakugou. It took him back to when they were just in High School with Shouto in front of his books in the very same position. Tongue sticking out in concentration. 

And Katsuki’s chest squeezed knowing that Shouto put the same effort into his care as he did into his studies, his work, everything that had ever been important to him.

Shouto gingerly took Katsuki’s right wrist into his hands and started methodically massaging the inside with deep heat cream before putting on a compression band, securing the wrist guard and fastening it to where he knew Katsuki found it comfortable. With his left wrist, Shouto used sports tape to tape out a makeshift guard. After each turn, Shouto placed little kisses on Katsuki’s wrists; the warmth felt like it would burst out of his chest. He couldn’t care about the position they were in, or the fact that Shouto felt insecure about morning breath most days. Katsuki took Shouto’s face into his hands, letting his thumbs trace out his husband’s face under his own calloused fingers and finally pulled Shouto close enough to kiss him.

Shouto gasped in surprise, before pushing back into Katsuki, and when they pulled back, Shouto had a light flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Good morning, icy.” Katsuki’s voice was still gravelly with sleep and Shouto only sighed and leaned his forehead on Katsuki’s shoulder, drawing closer and relaxed in Katsuki’s embrace.

Yeah, Katsuki didn’t care what happened in the dreams, because they didn’t include this. And this, right here, was everything he wanted from the life he was living. 

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Do you think people who are virgin should write smut? I feel like most of them don’t even know what they’re writing and just write what they think sex is

the implication this ask suggests that people who write about murders, cannibalism, politics, magic, royalty au, sci-fi, wars, supernatural, time travel, medieval era, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins must be murderers, cannibals, presidents, wizards, royalties, astronauts, ghost hunters, soldiers, time travelers, knights, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins in real life is so funny to me

[crypt-exe]

Somehow. This broke my brain, but also, in a weird way, explains why people on Twitter are essentially calling darkfic writers abusers and glorifying abuse because if you had to have sex to write smut, of course you have to be a shit person to write dead dove fics.

Also, I think writing sex as what you, as an individual, think it is can be a beautiful thing. Maybe more of us should do that. Write it as poetry—as a homecoming. Something tangible and beautiful.

[crypt-exe]

The Art of Forgetting

Event: Angstpril 2025, hosted by: @chaos-company

Prompt: Day 1: Forgotten

Fandom: 9-1-1

Ship/Romantic Attachment: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley | Buddie

Rating: T

A little back posting because I definitely only found this event today \(^.^)/

To the world it was supposed to be a beautiful, cloudy Tuesday morning. To Eddie and Christopher, it was something completely different. The atmosphere felt heavy, and like gravity was pushing down on their lungs. Christopher had lost something, and it was so tangible that Eddie felt the melancholy of the moment.

They had both lost something, and Eddie, for the life of him, couldn't remember anything that he used to find comfort in. The way that Buck’s smile would crinkle in the corners of his eyes, and how light his laugh sounded. Most of the time it could be mistaken for a chorus flying on the wings of the Southeastern wind.

No matter how many people told him it was the wrong choice, he hadn’t left El Paso. He never went back to Los Angeles to rejoin the 118 firehouse. Now, it was too late, and everyone moved on. Everyone. Including.

Baby blue eyes that could smash any wall that Eddie had ever dreamed to build around his heart. But ten years later.

Ten years later, he was starting to lose touch.

Those crows feet around Buck’s eyes were softening out into a bleary view. His voice starting to fade into ether where Eddie knew he couldn’t follow. Some days Eddie had to pinch himself to remember that his name was Evan Buckley, not just the frat boy nickname he picked to be called. And Christopher. He knew that something was wrong.

They had moved during such a turbulent time that Eddie knew that Chris felt the empty space that’s only coincidentally Buck-shaped. A good parent, would make sure Buck doesn’t stay forgotten in his son’s mind—or a figment of his imagination. A heartbroken man, however, will continue to live in the fantasy his son created where they never lost their other half.

It was too late to call. Or, to try and re-forge the bonds he already threw away. 

He put his phone down, and tried to close his eyes. It’s better to just sleep away the pain before he could drown in it.