𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙾𝙵𝚃

. . . 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

[finalhorrors]

Visit Original Link

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒   𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓   𝐈𝐍   𝐌𝐄   /      𝐖𝐄   𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃   𝐈𝐓   .     .     .     𝐀𝐍𝐃   𝐈𝐓’𝐒   𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 !

𝚊   𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 ,   𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 - 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎   ( 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒 - 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 ,   𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒 - 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚌 ,   𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒 - 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 )   𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐   𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑   𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍   &   𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕   𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜   𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖   𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜   𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚜 ,   𝚝𝚟   𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚜 ,   &   𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘   𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 .     𝚊𝚕𝚕   𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜   𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍   𝚋𝚢   𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄.    𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗   𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜   /   𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚗   𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚜   𝚍𝚗𝚒.     𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍   𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑   @𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 ,   @𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐔𝐑 ,   @𝐖𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 ,   @𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 ,   @𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐖𝐑𝐓𝐇 .

𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙳 .     𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 .     𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁 .     𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 .

[finalhorrors]

this  is  where  u  can  find  me  rn  /

placeb0es   /   loseravian   /   squadslays

[finalhorrors]

kissing them to shut them up .

 HOME   IS   THE   FIRST   PRISON ;   this ,   he   knows   the   way   he   knows   his   mother   is   𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬   &   he’s   𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 :   𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 .     it’s   the   kind   of   truth   that   resides   underneath   his   skin ,   that   p o i s o n s   the   marrow   of   his   bones   &   seeps   out   through   his   pores .     it’s   as   true   as   the   scars   on   his   childhood - torn   knees   from   summer   after   summer   spent   scraping   paper - thin   skin   against   the   mottled   cement   in   the   barrens ,   &   there’s   only   one   truth   bigger   than   this .

𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆   𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒌   𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔   𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒆   𝒕𝒐𝒛𝒊𝒆𝒓 .

but   like   his   mother   raised   him   to   believe  —  like   the   doctors   told   her   when   he   was   born   six   weeks   early   &   his   gym   teachers   reminded   him   often   enough  —  he   isn’t   enough .     @racointeur   made   him   believe   he   was .     he’d   always   been   good   enough   at   that .     (  richie   helped   him   with   his   homework   when   he   said   he   wasn’t   smart   enough   to   take   the   same   math   class ,   pinched   his   cheeks   when   he   said   he   wasn’t   tall   enough   to   make   the   pole   vaulting   team,   squeezed   him   when   he   said   he   wasn’t   strong   enough   to   walk   back   into   neibolt.     he   kissed   him   when   he   said   he   wasn’t   cute   enough   to   be   richie’s   date   to   anti - homecoming . )

 so   what   about   now ? 

eddie   isn’t   ready   for   the   sound   of   the   volvo   idling   to   be   𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡   by   whatever   happens   tonight .     because   up   until   now ,   eddie   associated   the   soft   growl   of   the   engine   with   a   pitch - black   haze ,   soft   sighs   &   muted   moans ,   seeing   &   counting   stars   he’d   never   seen   before  .     richie   had   taken   the   volvo   down   by   the   kissing   bridge   &   they’d   made   it   the   only   place   in   derry   they   could   be   them ,   together ,   without   distractions   or   judgments .     that   night ,   to   the   volvo’s   orchestra ,   𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑒’𝑠   𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦   𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒   𝑎𝑛   𝑜𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎   𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ   𝑟𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒   𝑎𝑠   𝑖𝑡𝑠   𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 .

but   tonight   is   not   like   that   night .     tonight   is   long - past   curtain   call ,   all   the   lights   have   been   doused ,   the   orchestra   gone   to   bed .     tonight   is   quiet ,   &   when   eddie   opens   his   window ,   the   chill   of   an   early - spring   night   is   not   the   only   reason   for   the   goosebumps   that   rise   on   his   arms .

it’s   not   fucking   fair .     bev   was   first ,   easily   let   go   because   none   of   them   ever   imagined   the   letters   &   phone   calls   would   slow ,   then   just   stop .     then   it   was   bill ,   big   bill ,   eddie’s   first   &   best   friend   bill ,   bill   who   always   knew   what   to   say   even   if   his   tongue   was   too   𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗕𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡   to   say   it ,   &   richie   let   eddie   lay   in   his   lap   &   cry   when   bill   didn’t   call   on   his   sixteenth   birthday .     (  richie   didn’t   even   call   him   weak   for   it ,   either . )

ben   went   next ,   quieter   than   all   the   other   losers ,   but   somehow ,   he   managed   to   remember   long   enough   to   call   eddie   on   his   birthday .     richie   turned   eighteen   a   week   ago ,   &   ben   didn’t   send   a   thing .

that’s   right .     richie   turned   eighteen   a   week   ago   &   hasn’t   stopped   planning   his   escape   since .

he   asked   eddie   to   come   with   him ,   of   course .     but   eddie   isn’t   like   richie ;    he’s   not   a   𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑢𝑠   like   richie ,   who   has   a   future   in   whatever   he   wants .     he   doesn’t   have   richie’s   parents   to   fall   back   on   or   even   a   car   to   return   home   in   when   inevitably   one   of   two   things   forced   him   back :    𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯   or   g u i l t   for   leaving   sonia   behind .

richie   doesn’t   get   scared ,   but   the   worst   of   all   is   that   richie   doesn’t   feel   bad .     at   least ,   that’s   how   it   feels .     it’s   why   he’s   the   one   climbing   out   of   the   volvo ,   packed   with   what   few   belongings   he   deemed   important   enough   to   steal   away   with   at   midnight   on   a   wednesday   in   march ,   &   why   eddie   is   the   one   staring   at   the   moonlit   lawn   richie   walks   across   on   his   way   to   climb   through   eddie’s   window   one   more   time .

richie   has   wasted   too   much   breath   trying   to   convince   eddie   it   won’t   be   like   the   other   ones .     how   could   i   possibly   forget   my   little   eddie   spaghetti ?     i’ll   tell   ya   what   the   rest   of   these   fuckin’   losers   don’t   have ,   and   it’s   the   stamp   of   your   cute   little  a  —

 (  eddie   had   kissed   him   then   because   he   was   afraid   if   he   didn’t ,   richie   would   just   vanish   then   &   there .  ) 

 𝚒𝚝   𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜   𝚊𝚜   𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚑𝚎   𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍   𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎   𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍   𝚑𝚒𝚖   𝚊   𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎   𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 . 

years   of   practice   has   made   richie   rather   adept   at   climbing   in   through   eddie’s   second - story   window ,   though   on   occasion ,   he’s   been   known   to   kick   the   sill   &   pretend   he   knocked   his   head   on   the   sash   just   to   get   a   laugh   out   of   eddie .     he   doesn’t   do   that   tonight .     tonight ,   he   regards   eddie   with   dark ,   𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥   eyes   &   keeps   his   mouth   shut   until   the   last   possible   second   because   he   knows   better   than   to   ask   eddie   to   come   with   him   just   one   more   time .     the   last   time   he   had   led   to   a   fight ,   &   suddenly ,   eddie   really   fucking   wishes   he   would   say   it   because   he   wouldn’t   want   to   leave   eddie   on   bad   terms ,   couldn’t   bear   the   thought   of   the   last   words   he   said   to   eddie   being   in   a   fight ,   so   then   maybe   he   wouldn’t  —

“ 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 , ”   eddie   whispers ,   &   the   words   waver   on   his   t r e m b l i n g   bottom   lip .     his   eyes   feel   so   hot   &   wet   with   unshed   tears   it’s   fucking   unbearable .     &   he   knows   he   should   blink ,   knows   he   should   let   them   spill   across   his   cheeks   like   the   water - painted   birds   on   stanley’s   science   binder ,   if   only   to   see   richie   a   little   clearer ,   but   he   promised   richie   he   wouldn’t   cry . 

𝐇𝐎𝐖   𝐃𝐎   𝐘𝐎𝐔   𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓   𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄   𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐓𝐎   𝐒𝐄𝐄   𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐈𝐒   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓   𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄   𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐓𝐎   𝐒𝐄𝐄   𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 ?

                                     the   answers   is ,   you   don’t .

thick   emotion   snags   on   the   teeth   designed   to   bare   at   𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧   𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬   &   𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 - 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑛   𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠   alike ,   though   maybe   he   was   never   as   intimidating   as   he   needed   to   be ,   since   these   are   the   very   things   driving   richie   away ,   &   he   all   but   chokes   on   his   words .

“ 𝚍 - 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝   𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎   𝚖𝚎   𝚑 - 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 , ”   he   gasps   on   the   outer   edge   of   a   sob   that   keels   over   his   bottom   lip   when   richie   tries   to   pull   him   in .     as   much   as   he   loathes   to   do   so ,   eddie   plants   his   palm   flat   against   richie’s   (  warm ,   solid ,   safe  )   chest   &   tries   to   make   an   enemy   out   of   him .     it   would   be   so   much   easier   that   way .

naturally ,   &   because   it’s   how   things   have   to   be   tonight ,   it   doesn’t   go   his   way .     instead ,   he   collapses   into   richie’s   chest ,   consumed   by   both   the   𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟   of   the   inevitable   &   the   𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯   boiling   in   his   stomach   like   acid   at   richie   for   doing   this   to   him  —  to   them .

richie ,   for   his   part ,   doesn’t   say   a   word .     it’s   quite   miraculous ,   in   fact ,   how   quiet   &   still   he   remains   as   eddie   cries   into   his   shoulder ,   making   a   mess   of   his   shirt   &   breaking   promises .     even   when   eddie   does   look   up ,   his   eyes   red   &   puffy ,   his   nose   pink   &   runny ,   to   beg   him   again  —  please   don’t   leave   me   to   rot   in   this   prison   we   grew   up   in   together  —  richie   doesn’t   say   anything .     with   his   hand   planted   firmly   around   the   back   of   eddie’s   heated   neck ,   it’s   easy   for   him   to   pull   eddie   closer ,   to   crush   their   mouths   together   in   a   kiss   that   sends   an   arrow   straight   through   eddie’s   heart ,   &   for   a   m o m e n t ,   he   lets   himself   be   𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕   again .

then   he’s   finally   talking   again ,   only   to   promise   eddie   there’s   no   fucking   way   i   could   forget   you ,   eds ,   &   remind   him   i   love   you   so   fucking   much   baby ,   it’s   fucking   insane ,   &   when   both   of   his   promises   are   punctuated   by   the   absolute   gunshot   wound   that   is ,   but   i   have   to   go ,   eddie’s   inconsolable   again .

he   kisses   eddie   again ,   &   he   puts   his   hand   up   to   try   to   stop   him ,   because   this   is   going   too   fast ,   &   eddie   doesn’t   need   to   kiss   him ,   he   needs   to   look   at   him ,   needs   to   commit   his   face   to   memory   because   beverly   &   bill   &   ben’s   faces   are   all   already   blurry .     but   richie   doesn’t   stop ,   &   eddie   gets   stuck   staring   as   hot   &   fresh   tears   scorch   tracks   down   his   ruddy   cheeks .

richie   doesn’t   stay .     not   even   long   enough   to   stop   eddie   from   sobbing .    the   volvo’s   tail   lights   disappear   around   the   corner ,   &   eddie   wets   his   pillowcase   until   he   finally   falls   asleep   on   it .

PROMPT :   KISS   &   TELL !

[joliehunts]

text meme | send one for a..

( 😂 ) an embarrassing text

( 😊 ) a cute text

( 😉 ) a suggestive text

( 😍 ) a text about their crush

( 😜 ) a drunk text 

( 🙈 ) a text meant for someone else 

( 😭 ) a depressed text 

( 🤬 ) a pissed off text 

( 🤢 ) a sick text

( 😴 ) a half-asleep text

( 😇 ) an innocent text

( 🤗 ) a supportive text 

( 💗 ) a loving text 

( 💀 ) a threatening text

( 👀 ) a text about something he/she saw 

( 🗣 ) an announcement text

( 👻 ) a text from someone else using their phone 

( 😩 ) a worried text

( 😢 ) an apologetic text

( 🌞 ) an early morning text

( 🌟 ) a late night text

( 🍑 ) a sexy selfie text 

( 🖕 ) an argumentative text

( 🍆 ) a naughty text

( 😱 ) a scared text

( 🙊 ) a text that was never sent

( ❗❗ ) an urgent text

( ☕ ) a ‘spilling tea’ text

( 🙋 ) a text confessing to something

( 🙏 ) a pleading text

( 💅 ) a bitchy text

[finalhorrors]

finally, an interest check!

[finalhorrors]

it   snows   plenty   in   maine .     isn’t   it   something   like   ninety   percent   of   everyone   who   lives   in   canada   actually   lives   below   the   southern - most   part   of   maine ?     well ,   would   you   look   at   that !     south   of   nova   scotia ,   &   you’re   colder   than   ninety   percent   of   canadians !

it   wasn’t   as   though   sonia   willingly   let   eddie   go   out   &   play   in   it .

you’ll   catch  your   death   playing   out   there ,   eddie   bear !     is   that   what   you   want   to   give   your   mother   for   christmas ?     a   dead   son ?!

it   made   enough   sense   to   obey   when   he   was   younger .     ( pretty   much   anything   seems   normal   if   your   family   says   it’s   okay . ) 

but   now ?     now ,   with   a   mother   who   de - legitimizes   his   marriage   every   chance   she   gets ?     NOW   HE   KNOWS   BETTER !

so   when   the   group   asked   who   wanted   to   spend   the   weekend   at   a   ski   lodge   up   at   big   bear ,   he   was   one   of   the   first   to   jump   on   the   opportunity .     * 𝐚   𝐛𝐨𝐲   𝐜𝐚𝐧   𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲   𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝   𝐬𝐨   𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲   𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰   𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬   𝐨𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 ,    𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦   𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞   𝐨𝐟   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 .

❛  we should totally make snow angels together.  ❜

he   did   it   a   few   times   in   his   youth .     always   rebellious ,   with   a   side   of   regretful   for   the   way   the   icy   cold   wet   soaked   his   jeans   &   coats .     ( the   worst   was   always   the   socks .     once   his   toes   went   numb ,   he   had   to   call   it   a   day ,   if   only   because   he   was   absentmindedly   giving   into   the   irrational   &   terrible   fear   of   AMPUTATION   VIA  FROST   BITE ! )    now   that   @wizardslays​   is   offering   again ,   he   sees   it   as   an   opportunity   to   win   part   of   his   𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡   youth   back .

𝗵𝗲   𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀   𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘀   𝗼𝗻𝗲   𝗮𝘁   𝗮   𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲   𝘀𝗼   𝗵𝗲   𝗵𝗮𝘀   𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲   𝘁𝗼   𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱   𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 ,   𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻   𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺   𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿   𝗶𝗻   𝗵𝗶𝘀   𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀   —   𝗴𝗲𝘁   𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱   𝘁𝗼   𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 .

“ 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 ,   𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 , ”    he   says   with   a   crooked   smile ,   “ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝   𝚕𝚎𝚝   𝚖𝚎   𝚐𝚎𝚝   𝚖𝚢   𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠   𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜   𝚘𝚗 . ”

PROMPT :   HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

[  COOKIES  ]  *  our muses bake cookies together.     [ @wizardslays​ ]

the   byers’   kitchen   has   seen    better   days .     so   has    chrissy’s   hair .

but   it   turns   out   putting   two   heads   together   is   not   always   better   than   just   having   one .

the   impressive   quantity   of   flour   mounting   on   the   countertop ,   piling   up   on   the   floor ,   &   dusting   every   available   surface   in   between   is   testament   enough  to   that .

“ 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 ,   𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 . ”     chrissy   resists   the   urge   to   pop   a   roll   of   sugar   cookie   dough   into   her   mouth .     ( her   mother’s   devil   on   her   shoulder   exists   without   existing ,   whispering   cruel - intentioned   reminders   into   an   unwilling   ear ! )    “ 𝚒   𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝   𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠   𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢   𝚑𝚘𝚠   𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑   𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛   𝚠𝚎   𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍   𝚝𝚘   𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑   𝚘𝚞𝚝 ,   𝚋𝚞𝚝   .   .   .   𝚒   𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔   𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜   𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝   𝚋𝚎   𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 . ”

she   absently   itches   the   top   of   her   head ,   right   above   where   her   scrunchy   meets   her   scalp ,   &   flour   drifts   downward   like   a   silent   snowfall .     the   sight   of   it   makes   her   burst   into   laughter .

PROMPT :   HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

@wizardslays ,   like   hot   chocolate ,   is   𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 .     it   should   come   as   no   surprise   that   will ,   like   hot   chocolate ,   has   the   capacity   to   burn .     HE   LIKELY   DOESN’T   KNOW   THIS ,   but   he’s   been   burning   bright   &   loud   for   as   long   as   stan’s   know    him ,   &   he   thinks   it’s   perfectly   safe   to   say   will   doesn’t   even   know   he’s   doing   it .

for   a   long   time ,   stan   shied   away   from   it .     tried   to   tamp   it   out   or   take   it  —  whatever   it   took   to   keep   the   flames   from   engulfing   him   too   thoroughly .     every   look ,   every   touch ,   every   kiss   put   him   on   the   verge   of   combustion ,   &   it   took   months   to   realize   not   every   burn   is   a  bad   one .     𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬  𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧   𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲   𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐭   𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲   𝐬𝐤𝐲 .     your   fingers   burn   when   you   warm   them   up   after   they’ve    been   too   cold   for   too   long .

&   ceramic   mugs   burn   fingertips   when   you   hold   onto   them   too   tightly .

❛  here, i made some hot chocolate for you.  ❜

stan   offers   will   a   muted   smile ,   then   nods   towards   the  countertop   upon   which   their   mess   of   what   might   be   a   gingerbread   house   lies .     it ,   like   stan’s   thoughts   after   spending   hours   upon   hours   with   will ,   is   in   shambles .

“ 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜   𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢   𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 , ”   he   assures   will .     “ 𝚋𝚞𝚝   𝚒𝚏   𝚒   𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔   𝚒𝚝   𝚞𝚙   𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝   𝚗𝚘𝚠 ,   𝚒𝚝’𝚕𝚕   𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙   𝚘𝚞𝚝 . ”     he   raises   his   hands   &   wiggles   his   sugar - slick   fingers   for   effect .     “ 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜   𝚘𝚞𝚝   𝚘𝚏   𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑   𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜   𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝   𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝   𝚖𝚢   𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊   𝚘𝚏   𝚊   𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍   𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎   𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 . ”

once   will   sets   the   mug   down ,   stan’s   attention   returns   to   the   tedious   task   of   spreading   icing   along   the   edges   of   gingerbread   walls .

“ 𝚒   𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍   𝚢𝚘𝚞   𝚝𝚘   𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍   𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎   𝚝𝚠𝚘   𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜   𝚞𝚙   𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚜 .     𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗   𝚒   𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎   𝚒’𝚕𝚕   𝚝𝚛𝚢   𝚝𝚑𝚎   𝚑𝚘𝚝   𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 . ”

PROMPT :   HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

[  SNOWMAN  ]  *  our muses build a snowman together.

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ,   𝑎𝑡   𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 ,   𝑖𝑠   ℎ𝑜𝑤   𝑖𝑡   𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 .     shelly   jumps   at   @racointeur​’s   idea  —  if   not   just   because   she   has   a   severe   case   of   cabin   fever ,   then   certainly   because   she   is ,   at   heart ,   a   child .     eddie   laughs   &   they   pull   their   snow   wear   on .     * see ,   shelly   loves   the   snow ,   but   she   hates   being   cold   &   wet .     it   isn’t   until   she’s   bundled   up ,   the   only   part   of   her   still   visible   her   eyes ,   that   she   chances   a   step   outside .

it   chills   her   to   the   bone ,   but   she   won’t   stop   now .

&   at   first ,   it’s   habit .     start   with   a   ball   &   roll   it   into   a   base   .   .   .   then   a   torso   .   .   .   &   then  ———

the   first   snowball   eddie   smacks   her   with   hits   her   in   the   back   of   the   head .     the   blow   is   dampened   by   the   padding   of   her   fur - lined   hood ,   but   it   throws   her   off   all   the   same .     she   turns ,   wearing   an   expression   of   exasperation   he   can   only   really   see   half   of  —  &   he   pegs   her   with   yet   another   snowball .     this   one   lands   where   her   mouth   would   be   were   it   not   concealed   by   a   balaclava ,   &   she   protests   with   a   wordless   scream .

eddie’s   face ,   on   the   other   hand ,   lights   up   with   delight .     he   takes   a   second   to   ask   if   she’s   okay ,   but   before   he   manages   to   get   the   sentence   out ,   shelly   lunges   for   him .

“ 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎   𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐   𝚝𝚘   𝚙𝚊𝚢   𝚏𝚘𝚛   𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 ! ”     she   exclaims   as   her   hands   find   his   shoulders .     she   shoves   him   backwards   to   little   effect,   then   lunges   again   to   push   closer   to   the   center   of   gravity .     with   a   heave ,   she   manages   to   push   him   down   into   the   snow ,   &   once   he’s   at   her   mercy ,   grabs   a   handful   of   snow   to   push   against   his   mouth .

“ 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑  — ! ”   she   starts ,   but   she   cuts   herself   off   with   a   SCREAM   when   eddie   tosses   her   off   of   him   &   into   the   nearby   snowbank .

PROMPT :   HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

finally, an interest check!

[finalhorrors]

me vs. rly not wanting to make another interest check but knowing i should

[finalhorrors]

[  WALK  ]  *  our muses go on a walk in the cold together.

𝑠𝑢𝑛 - 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑   &   𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 - 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑑 ,   sidney   isn’t   often   one   for   cold   weather .     she   grew   up   thinking   christmases   were   warm   &   winter   meant   a   few   more   rainy   days   than   usual .     but   there   are   a   lot   of   things   she   grew   up   thinking   that   aren’t   true   anymore .

she’s   no   princess ;    life’s   no   fairytale .     * 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲   𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻   𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻   𝗶𝘁   𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺𝘀 ,   𝘁𝗵𝗲   𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱   𝗴𝘂𝘆   𝗶𝘀   𝗮   𝘄𝗼𝗹𝗳   𝗶𝗻   𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗽’𝘀   𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 .     trusting   people   as   a   party   trick :   she   has   little   issue   letting   people   blindfold   her   to   play   pin   the   tail   on   the   jackass   &   doesn’t   mind   the   anonymity   of   seven   minutes   in   heaven ,   but   god   forbid   somebody   looks   her   in   the   eye   &   asks   her   to   TRUST   THEM . 

the   last   time   she   trusted   anyone ,   she   lost   her   best   friend .

the   last   time   she   trusted   anyone ,   her   father   almost   paid   the   price .

these   are   the   reasons   she   feeds   herself ,   𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎   𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚜   𝚘𝚏   𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛   𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎 ,   in   order   to   sleep   at   night .     quantifying   something   has   never   felt   so   big   or   terrifying ,   &   she   never   dreamed   she’d   have   to   break   down   her   own   trauma   in   order   to   stop   the   internal   bleeding .

( it’s   easier   to   say   she’s   more   worried   about   how   it   affected   other   people   than   admit   she’s   fucked   up !!! )

@vermillionbook   gets   that .     nancy   will   take   her   hand   in   a   room   full   of   people   who   don’t   understand .     in   this   instance ,   nancy   suggested   a   walk   through   the   chilly   winter   night   just   to   get   her   mind   off   the   obvious :   here   approaches   another   christmas   without   her   mother ,   her   best   friend ,   even   the   idea   of   a   boy   she   loved .     logically ,   she   knows   he   doesn’t   deserve   to   be   missed .     𝐛𝐮𝐭   𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭   𝐭𝐨   𝐡𝐞𝐫   𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 - 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 .

she   doesn’t   say   anything   as   she   walks   beside   nancy .     neither   does   nancy .     there   are   no   words   that   need   to   be   said ,   no   apologies   or   friendly   pick - me - ups .     none   of   them   ever   do   a   damn   thing   anyway ,   &   they’re   both   well - aware   of   that .

so   they   walk   on   in   silence ,   𝑡𝑤𝑜   𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠   𝑜𝑓   𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠   𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒   𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒   𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡   𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 . 

PROMPT :   HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

that post is finally done circulating… i hope it was more helpful than hindering to my mutuals!! really not trying to stir the pot or break my own rules. just want to look out for people.

[finalhorrors]

i updated my carrd. i would suggest checking out the dni section on the rules page, as it’s really the only thing that’s changed. please message me directly if you have any questions, because i will start enforcing that addition by the end of the day!

[deathwitness]

     “ KILL  CULT  VIPS  TO  EARN  RESISTANCE  POINTS ”              [ endless miles upshur far cry 5 aesthetics ]

[finalhorrors]

[  BENCH  ]  *  your muse finds my muse sitting outside on the porch.

“ 𝚑𝚎𝚢 ,   𝚔𝚒𝚍 . ”

only   he’s   not   just   a   kid   anymore .     he’s   grown ,   carrying   his   father’s   nose   &   his   mother’s   heart   well   into   adolescence ,   taller   than   hop   is   used   to   remembering .     it’s   only   been   a   few   months ,   &   will   still   looked   like   a   kid   when   the   russians   dragged   him   out   of   the   rubble   of   americana .

yet ,   it   feels   like   a   lifetime .     when   joyce   told   him   they   had   a   funeral   for   him ,   it   gutted   him ,   &   he   hasn’t   been   able   to   look   a   square   meal   in   the   eye   since .     maybe   it   just   doesn’t   the   same   on   the   tongue   of   a   walking   corpse ,   or   maybe   he’s   just   gotten   too   used   to   a   steady   diet   of   molding   bread   &   cold   soup .     

or   maybe   he’s   just   tired   of   being   the   reason   joyce   is   so   intimately   familiar   with   hawkins’   funeral   home .     he   killed   himself ,   he   let   the   state   kill   will ,   he   watched   them   lower   sarah’s   tiny   coffin   into   the   cold ,   hard   earth .     the   world   has   ended   a   dozen   times   for   him   &   kept   moving   on   in   the   morning ,   𝑠𝑜   𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙   𝑚𝑒   𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒   𝑡ℎ𝑒   𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍   𝑖𝑠   𝑎𝑙𝑙   𝑡ℎ𝑒   𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒   𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡   ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑠 ?     * 𝗁𝖾   𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌   𝗈𝗇   𝗁𝗂𝗌   𝖼𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄   𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍   𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾   𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗌 . 

but   that’s   okay .     he   can   shoulder   that   weight .     he   can   shoulder   that   weight   a   long   time .    ( just   look   at   all   the   boxes   labeled   𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗧𝗡𝗔𝗠   living   under   his   cabin ! )

what   he   can’t   handle   is   will   carrying   even   a   fraction   of   it   with   him .     his   heart   is   too   good   for   that . 

the   wood   of   the   bench   groans   its   complaint   under   his   weight   as   he   sits   next   to   @wizardslays​ .     they   stay   safe   under   the   cover   of   the   porch ,   but   just   beyond   it ,   gentle   snowflakes   fall .

“ 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜   𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗’   𝚘𝚗 ?     𝚗𝚘𝚝   𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑   𝚘𝚏   𝚊   𝚙𝚒𝚎   𝚐𝚞𝚢 ? ”

PROMPT :     HOLIDAY   STARTS   THAT   I   LOST !

[finalhorrors]

eddie   kaspbrak   tozier   is   not   an   optimist .     but   that   doesn’t   make   him   a   pessimist ,   &   it   took   him   nearly   twenty - one   years   to   realize   there   are   more   shades   of   gray   in   black   &   white   photographs   than   there   are   shades   of   black   or   white .     the   gray   area   IS   real ,   &   it’s   where   he   ends   up   more   often   than   not .     violence   may   not   be   the   answer ,   but   when   it   so   often   is   the   question   of   your   childhood ,   the   answer   will   be   Y E S   more   often   than   you   realize .

eddie   tozier   is   a   realist ,   &   there   are   a   great   many   things   he   does   not   know .     he   doesn’t   know   where   pennywise   came   from   or   why   he   came   to   derry .     he   doesn’t   know   why   georgie   &   betty   &   eddie   corcoran   &   even   patrick   died   but   he   didn’t .     but   what   he   does   know   is   that   if   he   didn’t   grow   up   in   derry ,   if   he   didn’t   meet   bill   &   by   association ,   stanley ,   then   he   never   would   have   met   @racointeur​ .

&   if   he   never   met   richie ,   he   doesn’t   know   where   he’d   be   or   even   who   he’d   be   today .     𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑   ℎ𝑒   𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙   𝑏𝑒   𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔   𝑡𝑜   ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 ?     would   he   have   tried   harder   with   heather ?     as   it   is ,   he’s   run   out   of   places   on   his   own   body   to   differentiate   between   where   he   ends   &   richie   begins ,   &   he   isn’t   fucking   upset   about   it .

( he   doesn’t   think   he’d   like   the   version   of   himself   richie   wasn’t   a   part   of   anyway. )

❛  oh … there’s a mistletoe over your head.  ❜

“ 𝚑𝚞𝚑 , ”   he   says   with   an   air   of   curiosity   as   he   looks   up ,   arms   still   wound   loosely   around   richie’s   waist .     he’d   hardly   had   a   chance   to   walk   in   the   door ,   his   shoes   still   on   &   his   bags   of   christmas   gifts   for   the   losers   left   in   sad ,   forgotten   sacks   by   the   front   door .     richie   had   all   but   tackled   him   the   moment   the   door   unlocked .     “ 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛   𝚑𝚘𝚠   𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   𝚐𝚘𝚝   𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 . ”

he   knows   better   at   this   point   than   to   give   richie   time   to   run   his   mouth .     he   bunches   richie’s   soft ,   warm   shirt   in   his   fingers   at   the   small   of   richie’s   back   &   uses   the   leverage   to   pull   himself   up   onto   his   tip   toes .     his   chest   presses   against   richie’s ,   &   he   can’t   tell   if   the   heartbeat   he   feels   there   is   his   or   richie’s .     he   supposes   it   doesn’t   matter ,   because   when   he   presses   his   lips   against   richie’s ,   it   𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬   &   𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬   all   the   same .

PROMPT :     HOLIDAY   STARTERS   THAT   I   LOST !