#I really do want to draw Elizabeth again

[chloesimaginationthings]

Will Abby ever meet Elizabeth 👀

I’ve technically drawn that once before! In newer comics? We’ll see,,

[weirdmorefics]

So Very Basic- Spencer Reid X Reader

A/N- This may have just been an excuse for me to infodump about Pride and Prejudice but I swear the fic is still good! Reader is also very Autistic coded but I am Autistic so that happens a lot when I write hope you don't mind.

Pronouns- She/her

Tooth-Rooting Fluff

Word Count- 822

Summary- Spencer judging your book tastes on the jet back home.

Spencer and I have made it a habit of sitting next to each other every flight home. We usually talk about the recent books we have finished or are currently reading. Sometimes we just sit in silence and read together. These are my favorite moments in my life I never feel calmer in the jet with Spencer by my side or across from me. This time it felt different though Spencer's eyes have not left me once I swear he hadn't flipped a page of his book.

"Hey Spence, What's your book about?" I say trying to hint at the fact that I can obviously see he has not flipped a single page.

He seemed startled by my sudden question but proceeded to tell me the entire synopsis of his book.

I slam my book shut and shout, "You have read that book already!"

He seemed perplexed by my reaction "There is no rule against rereading books I think authors would prefer you reread their works."

I groan, "There is when you spend the whole flight staring at me distracting me from my book."

Spencer flushes and I am one hundred percent sure I am right now.

"Hotch the children are fighting again!" Rossi shouts like a mother making me shake my head at him.

"Hotch Spence is poking meee," Emily teases in her best Y/N impersonation. JJ of course joins in playing the role of Spencer, "I am not Y/n." She draws out my name.

Spencer and I look as red as two tomatoes and my safe space has turned into an inescapable nightmare.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, "You know this is your fault for picking the most basic Jane Austen novel."

I gasp dramatically which of course just causes more stares from the team.

Derek sighed knowing this Y/n gasp all too well, "Pretty boy what are you doing offending Y/n? Do you want to listen to another one of her defensive rants for thirty minutes?"

"I quite enjoy them," Spencer smiles.

Rossi rolls his eyes, "You would."

I stand up, "Pride and Prejudice is beautiful from its book, it's movie, and it's BBC Special!"

JJ sighs," Here she goes."

"The drama in the book is spectacular as it delves into each sister's feelings about marriage and how at the time it was their only option. Don't even get me started on the twenty-seven with no prospects speech! Oh my goodness Darcy is the perfect match for Elizabeth with them both being so headstrong makes for the best enemies to lovers! Speaking of Darcy in the film when he does that hand-clench thing it was not even in the book! It wasn't even scripted! Which made me feel he was the perfect actor for Darcy he understood the role perfectly!" I ramble out putting my hand on my chest the rest of the team is annoyed at another one of my outbursts but Spencer is looking at me like I am the only person on the plane and I flush when I meet his eyes.

Hotch shouts at me, "L/N would you sit down we are about to go into a patch of turbulence." He of course says this too late and I embarrassingly fall on top of Spencer.

I immediately try to scramble off Spencer but he holds me there. I look away from him trying to hide my flushed face and he asks if I am alright.

"Yup, just mortified but everybody needs a good daily dose of that am I right." I smile trying to play it off but I play with my hair a common tell of mine that everyone in the BAU knows by now.

"You know I have never seen the Pride and Prejudice film," Spencer says slyly.

My eyes light up "You must see it! It's on Netflix I have seen it over a hundred times! I can probably quote all the words by now."

"I actually don't have Netflix I don't really watch television," He rubs the back of his neck.

"That's fine I could totally bring my laptop to you to watch it! Or we could watch it at my apartment!" I ramble out coming off more excited than I meant to.

"That sounds great," Spencer smiles, "Do you really know all the words you could recite some now?" He teases.

I turn the deepest red I think I have ever been in my life and of course, Derek has to jump in.

"Oh pretty boy has moves," he whistles.

Spence rolls his eyes "Shut up Morgan."

"Could we all shut up? Some of us like to rest so we can actually focus on work when we get back." Hotch says in his typical annoyed-with-us voice.

"I guess reciting Pride and Prejudice to you will have to wait," I whisper into Spencer's ear it was finally my time to make him blush.

[ceilidho]

1800s mail order bride [price/reader] for da wip game

i haven't yet gotten around to writing more of this fic (it's listed as complete on ao3 because i feel like it leaves off at a good place so if i never get back around to it, im fine with that, but the door is still open enough for me to return.

without having given this too much thought, this is what i would probably write if i were to make this into a proper fic (huge spoilers below because i'm basically outlining the entire plot):

after the scene in the sheriff's office, Price whisks you off to the local judge to be wed; this is where you come back to yourself and start protesting and denying that you're the girl he's waiting for

Price then says something about how "if you're not her, then who are you?" and brutally interrogates you about your identity (he thinks you're lying and he's just trying to make the truth come out) but you're still too nervous to say anything about who you are and where you're from because, remember, you just left a city where you killed someone. you have no idea how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. at one point you make up a lie about being "elizabeth smith from Rhode Island" and he challenges that by saying "we'll contact your kin then and have them confirm" (essentially saying you're under house arrest with him / in the town until someone related to "elizabeth smith" telegrams from R.I. or sends a letter)

you never actually give in and just go "fine, i'm the woman you've been corresponding with" but Price sees all these holes in your story as evidence that you are her and he's convinced that "your guilty heart brought you here to me anyway." There's basically nothing you can do to avoid being married off to him.

you're basically shell shocked the entire time at the court house and then on the trip back to the inn to collect your belongings to bring to Price's house.

the first night at his place is rough. you're basically like a feral cat the whole time - still insisting that he's got the wrong woman, indignant and furious when he thinks he has the right to put his hands on you and touch you (Price just lifts his brow at that because like...you are his wife now so really it's a moot point), and locking yourself in his bedroom the second the two of you are home.

Price finds all of this very amusing. he has stuff to do around the property anyway, so he lets you lock yourself in the room for a couple hours.

eventually he does just unlock the door with a key he has on top of the doorframe (you thought you were safe in there but oops nope). there's some conversation about "wifely duties" that has you screaming and spitting at him before he threatens to put you over his knee again, so you clam up and get a bit teary, which makes Price soften. (good excuse for me to write a soft but firm version of Price shushing you and drawing you into his embrace)

anyway, the middle of this story would be all slow, tender sex and you having to get used to being Price's wife while always keeping one eye out for any news of there being a warrant out for your arrest. you get spooked once by a man in town asking about any newcomers (maybe you're in a shop and you overhear him ask the cashier while you're behind a shelf) and try to flee, but Price tracks you down and he's sooooo mad when the two of you get home. like sex is rough that night.

events i'd want to have happen:

someone comes sniffing around town for you (bounty hunter maybe) and you try running away (unsuccessful, but you're mildly reassured when you hear the man has left town by the next day because everyone thinks of you as Price's wife so no one thinks to mention that a woman arrived in town the other week)

there's an incident on a farm on the outskirts of town that Price has to go to - he makes you promise to be good and you spend the next two days wrestling with whether to take the opportunity to leave or not. you end up staying. Price comes back and he's so happy to see his little wife still home after a few rough days of work. probably the first time he makes you sit on his face to reward you.

your luck finally comes to an end when the same bounty hunter finally comes back (your marriage announcement may have been in the local paper and somehow word got to him about a girl matching the description of the woman he's after) and somehow manages to trap you. the climax of this fic is that he manages to get you on a horse speeding away from town and you're heartbroken/terrified/desperate for John but your situation seems hopeless)

John catches up with the two of you and he, uh....deals with the bounty hunter that took his wife from him. before he "deals" with him, the bounty hunter does basically reveal who you actually are, and there's a moment where you see that John believes him. he looks at you in a strange way for just a second and there's this glint in his eye that says "yeah I either suspected this or this is new information to me but now everything makes sense" and your heart just stops because it's the first time where you actually don't want him to know that you aren't the woman that was supposed to be his wife

then he kills the bounty hunter and takes you home :) and he never ever acknowledges what the other man said. because you're his wife and that's all that matters.

suuupppperrrr tender loving sex that night LMAO probably out in wilderness because you're far outside of town and the two of you are exhausted (plus, John just buried this man's body so you had to diverge from the route home for a bit)

at some point in time, a woman does show up at your doorstep claiming to be John's wife. you slam the door on her face.

ok now i wanna write this again FUCKDJGHSJGVSD

[rickktish]

A list of mutable batfam headcanons that live inside my brain:

Steph deserves to be 6’ minimum, preferably 6’1” or 2”

Bruce is constantly trying to balance his need to be at the same eye level or above the people he’s intimidating vs his need to do his funky little gargoyle crouch. His favorite thing about the GCPD roof is that it has lots of surfaces he can crouch on and still meet or look down at Gordon’s eye level

Tim and Damian suffer from “too similar to get along” disease and must either become best friends or despise each other until the end of time

Babs prefers light, natural toned makeup. Steph prefers pops of color and decent amounts of jewelry when she can get away with it. Cass prefers jewelry and no makeup at all

Jason’s comfort meals are all variations on soup served with bread for dipping

Jason is of the opinion that Fitzwilliam Darcy is an ass at the beginning of the book and it’s a good thing he decided to change himself so he could take his place as Best Fictional Man Ever. Dick, who read the book in order to be able to connect with Jason better, is of the opinion that Fitzwilliam Darcy has done nothing wrong ever and only needed to work on his social skills, meaning that it’s his improved ability to communicate that makes him worthy of Elizabeth Bennet at the end. Neither of them wants to listen to Tim’s analysis of what this says about their relationships with Bruce

Duke has never engaged in non-Alfred approved chaos. This is not because Duke seeks Alfred’s approval, but rather because their senses of humor are in perfect alignment and Alfred is always pleased to discover that he approves of Duke’s particular instances of chaos even after the fact

Damian never had stuffed animals growing up, but after being corrupted by Dick’s influence he can no longer sleep without a minimum of one in his bed

Damian collects posters and articulable action figures. His favorite ones are the ones that can stand on their own, which he uses for posing practice in his drawings. His favorite figure is of one of the characters in Cheese Vikings who has a zuko-esque backstory and a secret propensity for gardening

Dick always buys the most beat up box of cereal at the grocery store because he feels bad for them

Cass loves not only ballet, but other works by classical composers as well. She will unironically listen to the local classical station, and can identify the Borodin String Quartet by the sound of their instruments alone

Tim and Bruce watch and read Gray Ghost media in all its various forms and discuss it together as a bonding activity

Alfred and Jason’s shared birthday is usually celebrated with them making each other cakes, meaning that everyone gets to enjoy not one but two cakes for the day

Jason specializes in cheesecake above all other cakes, though he did make Damian a black forest cake for his birthday once right after he’d finished playing Portal

Literally everyone is surprised when they learn that Damian plays video games. No one has ever once looked at him and thought “yeah, i bet that kid plays console games” and he’s actually really insecure about it, but he also refuses to wear any kind of merch outside the house. He owns dozens of gaming and anime T-shirts but refuses to be seen as anything but completely neutral outside his own territory

Most of the bats wear drug-detecting nail polish at all times, though the base and reactive colors vary by the bat in question

Bruce and Dick have both had therapists straightup quit on them and are therefore reluctant to go back to therapy ever again

Duke’s favorite book is Walden Pond

Alfred read Lord of the Rings aloud to Bruce when he was a kid

[toaster-trash]

Volume III Chapter IV/V of the original 1818 text of Frankenstein lives in my brain rent free. I need to rant about Clerval’s death or I’ll loose it. (It’s late and I’m exhausted rn so my ass is NOT as coherent and structured as it could be but fuck it we ball)

“He appeared to be a handsome young man, about five and twenty years of age.” MY PRECIOUS BOY

“(…) having brought the body into her house; it was not cold. They put it into a bed, and rubbed it; and Daniel went to the town for an apothecary, but life was quite gone.” HE MIGHTN’T HAVE BEEN DEAD WHEN THEY FOUND HIM BUT IT WAS TOO LATE

“I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched before me. I gasped for breath; and, throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed, “Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims await their destiny: but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor”——

The human frame could no longer support the agonizing suffering that I endured, and I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions.

A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months on the point of death (…)” THE WAY VICTOR REACTS TO AND SPIRALS FROM CLERVAL’S DEATH IS SO MUCH MORE SEVERE THAN ANYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENS TO HIM and it’s also an extremely interesting character study to see what happens when the only person he ever really seemed to have a mutual loving and healthy relationship with gets cut out of the picture – Victor’s had his fevers, he’s wallowed, but he always had Clerval to draw him from his wallowing and to nurse him back to health. So what happens when Clerval’s death is the cause of that anguish? THE DRAMA THE ANGST I love these silly little gothic losers to death but watching Frankenstein grieve over the passing of who was pretty much essentially his lover is fascinating to me and it SHOWS how much Frankenstein adores Clerval through the latter’s death. THE MAGNITUDE OF HIS GRIEF IS A TESTAMENT TO THEIR LOVE oml i can’t rn frfr THEYRE SO GAY AND SO GOTHIC I CAN NOT

“Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest?” “I thank you; but all that you mention is nothing to me: on the whole earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving.” “(…)surely I should have died on the coffin of Henry.” AGAIN Victor’s absolute grief tearing himself up over it

“As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black melancholy, that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was for ever before me, ghastly and murdered.” “Sometimes they were the expressive eyes of Henry, languishing in death, the dark orbs nearly covered by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them.” Again what I said about his grief being a testament to their love bro, REMINISCING ABOUT HIS DEAD LOVER AND HIS BEAUTY EVEN IN DEATH WHILE GRIEVING HIM I CANT BRO

“Ah! my father, do not remain in this wretched country; take me where I may forget myself, my existence, and all the world.” HERE’S THE START OF HIM PUSHING AWAY THE MEMORY AND TRYING TO SUPPRESS IT BECAUSE THE GRIEF IS TOO SEVERE and that is SO interesting for how he shifts his tone with Elizabeth and puts up that fake demeanour of wanting to marry her because he thinks it’ll make HER happy even though both of them describe dreading the wedding, also possibly another argument for the legitimacy of reading Clerval and Frankenstein’s relationship as romantic – in order to forget him, he assigns himself to the role given to him as a child by marrying Elizabeth and gives up whatever he hope he had (possibly discouraged from Clerval being murdered as a response to Victor refusing to finish the Bride and subject her to the same fate as him and Elizabeth to the Creature, a pact made without her knowledge or consent, an arranged marriage. Where has spiting that tradition led him? Where has him standing up to the shroud of his mother’s dying wishes, hanging over him the entire novel thus far, led him, by refusing to force the Bride into an arranged marriage with the Creature, as he was with Elizabeth? To the death of the one man he truly loved. So fuck it, right? He can at least “make his dear cousin happy” and not die spiting the one thing he was meant to do – make his mother proud from beyond the grave by marrying Elizabeth.)

“the wind that blew me from the detested shore of Ireland(…)” sorry my country traumatised you bro (I mentioned to one of my teachers while explaining the plot of Frankenstein to them, as you do, that this chapter takes place in Ireland and the “god damn ok” face was priceless)

“I was deceived by no vision, and that Clerval, my friend and dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the monster of my creation. I repassed, in my memory, my whole life; my quiet happiness while residing with my family in Geneva, the death of my mother, and my departure for Ingolstadt. I remembered shuddering at the mad enthusiasm that hurried me on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and I called to mind the night during which he first lived. I was unable to pursue the train of thought; a thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitterly.” HE’S TRYING SO DESPERATELY TO LEAVE IT BEHIND AND TO REPRESS IT but now he’s left Ireland and he’s no longer feverish, the clarity washes over him and he can’t do anything except just lie there and cry over everything that’s happened AND MY POOR LAD HE CANT EVEN CONTINUE BEYOND THE POINT OF THE CREATURES REANIMATION BECAUSE THOSE FEELINGS PRESS DOWN ON HIM AND CROWD HIM AND OVERWHELM HIM AND HE JUST BREAKS INTO SOBS

And what happens after “the night during which he first lived”?

He’s saved from his own downward spiral by Clerval.

What’s he doing now?

Going on a downward spiral.

Where’s Clerval?

Dead.

“Ever since my recovery from the fever I had been in the custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum; for it was by means of this drug only that I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various misfortunes, I now took a double dose, and soon slept profoundly. But sleep did not afford me respite from thought and misery; my dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me.” And Christ above THIS LINE, not only can he now physically not sleep at night after what happened, but he’s gotten into the habit of drug use over it – which wouldn’t have been too bizarre by Victorian standards, but in the 18th century, laudanum wasn’t administered nearly as liberally and was mostly used for surgery, from what I can find, anyway. Not to mention that fact that he starts double dosing on it as the memories come back to him – his grief starts getting to the point where he’s using drug use in order to cope, but it hardly matters as his torment follows him to sleep.

“We had resolved not to go to London, but to cross the country to Portsmouth, and thence to embark for Havre. I preferred this plan principally because I dreaded to see again those places in which I had enjoyed a few moments of tranquillity with my beloved Clerval. I thought with horror of seeing again those persons whom we had been accustomed to visit together, and who might make inquiries concerning an event, the very remembrance of which made me again feel the pang I endured when I gazed on his lifeless form in the inn at ——.” THIS LINE LIVES IN MY BRAIN. RENT FREE. HOW COULD SHELLEY HAVE CUT THIS OUT OF THE 1831 PUBLICATION THIS IS SO GOLDEN DEAR LORD I ADORE THEM.

“MY BELOVED CLERVAL”

BUT ALSO AGAIN we’ve got Frankenstein trying SO desperately to forget everything, and he knows that he can’t face the people who knew Clerval or he’d break down. And I love the way this version continues on his grief to the next chapter – it’s not done and dropped, its ongoing and it plagues him, and it will plague him as long as he lives. I wonder what would happen if he did go through London, if he did meet those people again. Would things have turned out differently? Would he finally have been given a sense of comfort and clarity through mutual grief, as nobody so far since Henry’s death and for the rest of the book, except the creature, ironically, has grieved for Clerval except for Frankenstein. If he met people who took as fondly to Clerval as he did, at least on meeting him briefly, who would have sympathy towards Victor – would he finally have that space to grieve for him in a healthy way, to be comforted by people who at least vaguely understand a fraction of his anguish?

The way Victor Frankenstein BREAKS after the death of Henry Clerval is one of the most fascinating and endearing parts of the novel that completely lives in my head rent free. He spirals, he becomes ill, he becomes deeply suicidal and depressed, he begins drug misuse – and adaptations have the sheer balls to cut Clerval out of the story altogether.

…..”My beloved Clerval” HELP ME HE ACTUALLY SAID IT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

[angeldreamsoffanfic]

Elizabeth Marie Munson née Hart was buried on the 2nd Sunday of May back in 1977, back when Eddie had only been eleven. It had been hard, not that death was ever an… easy thing mind you.

She’d been buried in Hawkins, as stated in the will that’d she’d put together (no matter if it had been written on hospital napkins or not it was followed just the same). Eddie’s custody had been a bit more complicated, as Al Munson had put up a bit of a fight in regards to Elizabeth’s wishes. She was adamant that Eddie go to Wayne, while Al didn’t care about what happened to him… as long as it went against what Elizabeth had wanted.

But no matter, because Eddie knew that Elizabeth loved him as much (if not more somehow) than Wayne did. And Eddie loved Wayne, honestly and wholeheartedly he did. But there was something missing from his life, and that was his mama.

Which, Eddie knows distantly, is what makes the day today as difficult to swallow as it does.

Because not only is it the day of his mama’s death but it’s also Mother’s Day.

And he can’t exactly fault anyone in his life for not being able to understand how he feels today. He really can’t bring himself to, even as he sits right in front of his mama’s gravestone- knees to his chest like he’s a little kid again. The rest of his odd found family has their parents, and so they just… they don’t fully understand what Eddie’s going through.

Not really anyway.

He knows they mean well, really he does. But no matter, because it’s hard and he already has a lot on his mind as it stands.

Eddie pauses and draws in a shaking breath, eyes wet and glossy with yet to shed tears, as he keeps his chin on his knees even as he hears a car door slam shut. It’s followed by several other ones, and Eddie doesn’t look behind him as he hears slowly measured footsteps behind him. He doesn’t turn, but he does speak.

“You don’t have to be here, Harrington.”

“Not Harrington, son.” It’s Hopper’s voice that makes Eddie finally turn, and he’s greeted to the sight of the older man- holding a bouquet of pink tulips wrapped in cellophane. Hopper’s in one of his nice shirts, one of the ones that Eddie knows that Joyce forced him in.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie manages to croak out, and the corner of Hopper’s lip twitches slightly- before he gestures with his head back to the parking lot.

“If you think you’re alone today, kiddo, you really got another thing coming.”

Eddie turns his head slightly to look past Hopper, and he can’t help the choked gasp that manages to make its way out of his throat. The entire group is there, all the way from The Party down to even the Corroded Coffin boys. Everyone in their crisp Sunday best (or as close to it anyway) with bright bouquets of pink tulips held between their hands.

Eddie turns again to look at Hopper, and can’t get out any words as he watches as Hopper is joined by Steve Harrington. Eddie has never quite been able to figure out Steve (no matter how much he tries), but he never…

“Hey ma’am,” Steve isn’t even looking at Eddie though, instead focused quite intently on the area behind Eddie… and oh.

Oh.

“I’ve had the pleasure of being one of your son’s friends this past year,” Steve carefully speaks as he moves closer until he’s next to Eddie, before he sits down- not minding getting dirt and grass on his pants. “And we all missed this last year but we figured… well we couldn’t let him come down here and mourn you alone.”

“Stevie-” Eddie tries, and Steve says nothing as he reaches a blind hand out- before he entwines his fingers with Eddie’s. Eddie sniffles again, even as Steve presses the tulips as close to the grave as he can.

“Your son matters to so many people, Ms. Hart, I mean that genuinely and honestly.” Steve keeps going, as if Eddie had said nothing. Eddie tries to keep the tears at bay, holding onto Steve’s hand as if it’s a lifeline. “And I didn’t know how to really show that… but I figured this might help a bit.”

Eddie is confused for just a split second, before he hears Jim Hopper clear his throat- before he then speaks.

“Ma’am, I know that your son has made a safety net for my daughter in the times where I couldn’t. I know that she loves him, truly, and for that I’m a bit more than grateful towards you.” Hopper then clears his throat, before he carefully steps around them- and sets his bouquet of tulips right next to the ones that Steve had put down.

Hopper curls a hand around Steve’s shoulder and bends to whisper something into his ear, and Eddie focuses on blinking back his tears as the man turns and walks away.

It’s silent for a minute, before it continues again.

“Hi Ms. Hart, Eddie’s told me a load about you and he was my first friend here in Hawkins and I just want to let you know we… we haven’t forgot about you.” Gareth’s voice is next, and Eddie lets out another sniffle as he sets a bouquet down. He doesn’t leave though, and instead sits right next to Eddie- taking the hand that Steve isn’t holding.

“Hi ma’am, Eddie hasn’t told me much about you… but I think you’d like the man he turned out to be, and from one mom to another? I’m keeping an eye on him for you.” Joyce. Another bouquet.

“He’s like really cool and taught us so much about this game we play, Dungeons and Dragons and I’m not sure if you knew what that was but it’s like this role playing-” Dustin. Another bouquet.

“He’s like my brother-” Jeff. Another bouquet.

“He’s like my son-” Wayne. Another bouquet. And a firm hand on a shoulder that never leaves.

“You’re someone he talks about whenever I need him to and that means a lot-” Max. Another set of flowers. A kiss against the top of Eddie’s head.

“He’s a good kid and you had to have been like an amazing mom for him to turn out the way he did because let me tell you-” Robin. Another bouquet.

“My dad says I’m allowed to choose my family and I chose Eddie, and from what he’s told me… you were a good mama.” Eleven sniffles softly as she presses her flowers into the ever-growing pile at the base of the gravestone. Eddie reaches out a touches the back of her leg- and it’s enough for the girl to launch herself into Eddie’s arms.

They stay like that. No one questions it.

“From his stories you sound really interesting and I think my mom and-” Mike. Another bouquet.

“Hello ma’am-” Lucas. Another bouquet.

“He’s kind of a nerd but-” Erica. Another bouquet.

“He’s a really good friend, Ms. Hart. Like there’s not a lot of them out in the world, and Eddie’s a good one.” Freak. Another bouquet.

“You and Wayne raised him right and I hope that wherever you are-” Nancy. Another bouquet.

“From what he’s-” Jonathan. Another bouquet.

“Ms. Dudette he’s so-” Argyle. Another bouquet.

“He’s one of my brothers. And that’s all there is to it, and I’m so sad we couldn’t meet and I couldn’t tell you this in person-” Will. Another bouquet.

In the end, Elizabeth Marie Munson née Hart has nineteen bouquets of pink tulips surrounding her grave. In the end, she and her son are completely and wholly surrounded by people that may not have known her— but they love her just the same.

Eddie Munson smiles, and clears his throat as he begins to speak, pulling the attention of his family to him.

“So the reasons why mama liked pink tulips is-”

The sun slowly begins to set as the ragtag group settles in to listen to Eddie’s story, all scrunched in as close as they can.

And for once in his life?

Eddie Munson hates the 2nd Sunday of May just a little bit less.

-

sacrifice to the readmore gods. mother’s day is really hard for me sometimes, so enjoy this word vomit of a ficlet i produced in about an hour. <3

[punkeropercyjackson]

My Rachel Elizabeth Dare headcanons

Natural redheaded and greeneyed yoruba nigerian second gen inmigrant.She's darkskin with 4d hair

Autistic with schizophrenia

No masking game and that's her and Percy's special connection origin

Dresses like Miss Frizzle but with punk accents.Example:Gaudy dress with colorful tights,demonias,a spike collar and pink tears eyeliner

Aroaceflux,lesbian and a trans woman.Her and Percy define their dynamic as either queerplatonic sapphic girlfriends or exes to even closer best friends depending on the Percyverse(I have two-Persephone Jackson,which is regular tgirl Percy,and Perseo Jackson,which is transfem bigender Percy and some more canon compliant)

She grows up to disenmantle her father's company to replace it with a solarpunk international bussiness and Percy and her go to protests and do activism together and she rubs off her gender presentation on her a bit or rather helps her realize they kinda have similar ones

Her full initials being RED was on purpose because she likes to think she's funny(and she right)

Her special interests are art,weirdcore,green,enviormentalism and anarchy,her safe foods are mac and cheese joll of rice and slurpies,her stims are yelling flappy hands and physically crashing(no,really)and her blue hairbrush became a safe item post Botl

Perfectly nigerian-american in the sense that she's happily at peace with both her cultures(AFRICAN-american tyvm)

A complete bombshell.She's pretty,cute,hot,beautiful-If there's a word for attractive,it fits Rachel.Much like Percy,it flies way over her head thanks to the lifelong bullied outcast status until high school starts and she gets to Camp Half-Blood and has every other girl throwing themselves at her and unlike,she actually wanted all of them so she had tons of lesbian adventures and came out with hot girl mentality.Her endgame is undecided by me because she's too good with literally every girl her age

Her and Jason are pretty good pals that became through Percy and same for Nico and Hazel.If Jercy,she's Percy's best woman at their wedding and i can see Daregrace as a thing either poly or on it's own,it's an excellent ship that would 100% happen(lesbian Rachel isn't something i'm too firm on,i also love bi Rachel).She bonds with Percy's kids(meaning Nico and Hazel)pretty well since she's such a sweet and fun person and they share interests

She went on her own Kane Chronicles Adventure with Zia,Walt and Anubis and got powered up for a hot minute thanks to her african roots(I'm black myself but if this is offensive lmk!!).They still talk on the regular and even metup irl again once and she was the first to meet norse demigods because she housed Alex in secret for a few weeks before Mr Dare found out and kicked her out and they had a heartwarming reunion years later

"C'mon,you can't be a REAL redhead,you're black!Just say you wanted attention!" "I'm not gonna suck you off bro,can you let me play with my Tamagotchi in peace?It's gonna kill itself just to get away from you and then you'll owe me money.At least use your free time to take a shower or something else productive like apologizing to your Mama." ".....O-Okay,sorry for bothering you."

Her favorite holiday is Valentine's Day purely for the aesthetics,she's a Final Girls Fangirl,she knows how to draw in artstyles that don't exist and she has an instagram that she only made so she could use it with her best friends but eventually she also came up with the idea to use it for education and activism so now it's got two sides to it

[theramusen]

EVIL DOUBLED (FNAF AU)

This was sorta just for fun while I do school and what not! AU idea where Henry and William are BOTH evil and work together!

This screenshot redraw is what started it all!

Thats William’s remnant in there btw hes sorta michael-mode rn but theyre gonna put it back in him once theyre done posing all cool- He JUST survived being springlocked for the first time

Now lets get into ref sheets! (There will be a page break after and all lore/info about the au will be down there!)

OK SO!!! The au def is similar to canon a lot and so

The MAJOR plot changes would be:

-Will and Henry BOTH get springlocked

•this fucks over Cassidy and CC being in Fredbear already though, so to solve this issue Cassidy, CC, and Charlie, will all share the puppet.

-Henry now occupies Fredbear instead, and so we now get Springtrap and Beartrap.

-William does NOT have time for the wife murder subplot, so Mrs. Afton (Clara) gets to live fully, she replaces Henry now. Diving into the duo’s blueprints and creations so she can one day stop them. She works with Michael.

-Henry’s wife is ALIVE! Her name is Dorothy and she returns to Hurricane after receiving a call from Clara. She also becomes a Henry replacement.

-Because of Clara and Dorothy’s new role, the pizza sim speach is now WAY more female rage style. This is the wrath of scorn mothers. UCN will be 100000x worse.

-Oh and no disks- William tries to push them but Henry 100% shuts them down and thinks theyre dumb.

-So fnaf 4 is JUST cc’s dying nightmare and eventually michael DOES get gas drugged and sees the nightmares but thats NOT fnaf 4 thats just a bad trip!

-Also, with William not being able to run rampant with random robot murder (Henry keeps him in check) we DO see the base finale in pizza sim.

-When we get into help wanted, ar, security breach, and ruin that follows a SECOND plot line fully separate from the first, where we see a surge of copy-cat killers (this is where we get characters like Vanessa and Jeremy, and Gregory will also be a part of this, being the main villain in Ruin now bc the Mimic was never made)

-William and Henry are a good team here, mutual bond and gain.

-William is far more explosive and emotional, his drive coming from CC’s death sorta setting off a domino effect of underlying mental health issues. He just kinda loses it. This team gives him the delusion that he may one day see CC again.

-Henry is in it bc hes a capitalist. And hey, turns out unlike electricity, theres NO remnant bill. So making all his robots run on human souls is cheaper! He doesnt really care much about charlie after like 3 months of her being dead. He knows it was William. He doesn’t care.

GENETICS?!

yeah theres genetics-

not gonna draw out the punnet squares but the colors of the characters ARE genetic traits!

Henry’s grey is a rare recessive trait. So it was EXTREMELY unlikely to pass onto Charlie. Which it didnt.

Dorothy’s green is a common dominant trait, Charlie ended up green like her!

William and Clara are BOTH purples. William is a more blue-purple, Clara is a more red-purple (commonly mistaken for pink!)

Both purples are dominant traits, so it is a 50/50 with their offspring to produce a blue-purple or red-purple.

Michael and Elizabeth both ended up red-purple!

Michael is VERY red-purple, very much almost mistaken for pink like his mom.

Elizabeth is closer to true purple than michael, but still red-purple!

CC is the only afton child to end up blue-purple! If he hadnt died he wouldve ended up being Williams favorite child!

[midnightsun-if]

Ok, NOW I have to know, pls don’t answer if you don’t want to, but what if Helena did go feral and DID kill Mc, how would the family react to that? (Assuming Helena went back to normal)

Once a vampire starts to act in that manner, they don't turn back... Which is probably a mercy, if I'm being honest, as they'd truly be conscious of what the venom is beginning to do as it's breaking down. Of course, it's rare for this to occur, but it does happen.

Here's your angst regardless though... It's not really the family reacting to it, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

"I'm not going to kill you, Helena."

Crystalline blue eyes rise to meet ruby red, an expression wracked with grief etching itself upon a beautiful face, as Helena stares at her mother. "I-I'm not--"

Elizabeth raises a hand, halting her daughter mid-stutter. "I do detest when you lie to me, Helena. You've never been good at it." Rising from her seated position, she moves closer to her daughter's kneeling form. Taking in the unruly white locks, pallid complexion, and strain around normally sharp eyes -- all the hallmarks of a vampire starving herself. "Do you wish to try to tell your tale again?" Elizabeth crouches down, taking Helena's chin to force her child to look at her. "Look me in the eye and lie. Tell me that you're here for a simple visit."

"I-" Various emotions flicker across drawn features, blue eyes bouncing on various points of interest in the room. Anything to keep her from looking into all-knowing red. "I don't know what else to do. Where else to go."

"Your darling wife and children won't help you?" The older vampire takes note of the flinch, the smallest recoil away from her touch, at the mention of the people Helena cared the most about. Everything becoming that much clearer, snapping into place. "Ah," she hums, fingers tightening on her daughter's chin. "You aren't here to die."

The tension in Helena's shoulders begin to loosen. "That is what I was trying to tell--"

"You're not here to die," Elizabeth interrupts, tone sharp. "Because you're here to be punished. You wish for me to punish you, to hunt you down like some rabid animal. That is why you're here." She appraises her daughter, a churning feeling beginning to well within her gut, something only her children could elicit within her: fear. "You could have ended your life long before now, Helena, but you don't believe you deserve something as simple as that. You don't believe you deserve mercy."

Obsidian black suffuses crystalline blue. "Would you?" The question is snarled, hissed out between clenched teeth. "You have hunted people for this exact reason, mother. Don't tell me your ideals have suddenly shifted."

"The people I hunt never feel guilty enough to come to me directly, Helena." Her iron-clad grip softens, a slender hand coming up to cup her daughter's cheek. "What happened wasn't your fault, little one. It may have been your body, but it wasn't you."

Anguish paints itself Helena's face at the words. "But what if it happens again? What if it's Saraya next? Or one of my other children?" A dry sob erupts from her lips, hands digging at Elizabeth's sides as Helena draws herself closer. "What if I become that monster again?"

Cradling her daughter close, Elizabeth drops a barely there kiss to the crown of her head -- a position she hadn't taken up since her daughter was young.

"Then I will hunt you down." Ruby red eyes slip shut, her grip tightening that much more. "Like I would do with any monster."

[allzelemonz]

Mistake III: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language, violence Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, drinking, anal sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, flashbacks, hair pulling, no mention of Reader drinking, top Reader and bottom Micah, denial of feelings, arguments, threats to life, robbery, murder Summary: You leave camp to clear your head but nothing seems to work.

You turn your attention back to your horse and mount up. You can’t just leave camp, it isn’t enough, you need to shoot or rob something. Your horse shakes their head as if to tell you you’re being as stupid as you feel but you give them a pat and carry on towards the tangled roads of West Elizabeth.

Micah pulls away just enough to speak between kisses. “Hotel ain’t far, cowpoke.”

“You want me to fuck you or something, Bell?”

He groans as your leg rubs against his straining dick. “God yes.”

You smirk as you give him a long kiss, unbroken by conversation. He moans into it and tries to feel your leg against him again.

You have the urge to hit your head against the tree you’re stopped next to. Micah felt so good, he tasted like whiskey and tobacco the way most men do but it only made you want him more. Damn you’re such an idiot. Micah fucking Bell. You could’ve fucked anyone and you managed to pick up him. There were plenty of men in the godforsaken saloon that probably would’ve accepted a proposition and you fell into an alley and bed with the camp snake. If a stagecoach with a lot of money doesn’t come along soon you’re going to go crazy.

“Keep saying my name and I might actually fuck you.” You whisper as he catches his breath.

“I ain’t gotta do a damn thing, cowboy.” He chuckles. “Ya wanna fuck me and yer gonna, don’t matter what I do.”

You pull your fingers out of him and he has to grit his teeth not to whimper. His hips move, trying to chase the filling sensation, but you push him back down and occupy him with sucking marks into his neck.

“You’re too sure of yourself, Bell.” You mutter against his skin. “I could leave you like this and let my hand do everything you can.”

“Fuck you, cowboy. Ya want me.”

The annoying image of Micah in a state of bliss nearly causes you to miss the approaching coach. It’s a regular passenger coach, but it’s fancy enough to likely have passengers with money. You pull your bandana over your nose and draw your gun, riding onto the road. It doesn’t take a single word for the coach driver to stop and put his hands up, probably not his first time getting robbed.

“Come on out, folks!” You call.

A man comes out, hands cautiously raised in the air. Then a young girl, no older than ten. Nice family, still robbable. You throw a bag down to their feet.

“Everything you got in the bag.” You order, gun aimed at the man. “Don’t make me shoot the kid.”

You’re not really gonna shoot the kid, not that anyone needs to know that. Threats go a long way. The man scurries, taking everything of value off of his person and the girl. There’s a watch, a ring, a necklace, a billfold, earrings, enough to justify your trip out of camp but not enough to make you feel better. The man timidly holds the bag up and you gesture for him to bring it over. He hands it to you without trouble.

“Thanks for your cooperation, folks.” You give the driver a nod, deciding to let him keep whatever he has. “Enjoy your trip.”

You move around the coach slowly, watching for any sign of trouble as it takes off down the road. Somewhat to your disappointment, nothing comes.

You keep a rough pace as you grip at Micah’s hips, only stalling when you hit your peak and go soft for a moment. It nevers lasts long, not with the way Micah looks and the view you have of your dick filling him up. Micah doesn’t last as long as you do. He’s cum much more than you have, yet the primary slick aiding your thrusts is now your own seed. He’s enjoying the endless and presently ruthless fucking based on the noises he makes. Only once has he had to touch himself to get off. At this rate you’re getting tired but you really don’t want to stop.

You wander around for a few more hours and you end up shooting a fella in an attempt to feel something. He seemed like an ass so you don’t feel too bad about it when you loot his corpse.

Your name being called as you stand makes you sigh because you recognize the voice.

“What, Bell?”

“Havin’ trouble there, cowboy?” Micah chuckles as you try to get yourself hard again.

“I’ve been fucking you for hours, Micah.” You groan as he grinds back into you. “You could always help.”

Micah leans forward, making you slide out of him, and sit up to kiss you. His hand finds its way to your dick and strokes it slowly, fingers playing with your balls when he slides down the base.

“Just one more, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Ya can fuck me one more time can’t ya?”

You smile against his lips. “I could fuck you much more than that, just give me a little time in between.”

“Ya that smitten with me?”

You groan as his thumb brushes over your now hard tip. “You’re a good fuck, Micah, don’t get cocky.”

He slides off on Baylock and gets in your face like did back at camp. “Come on, cowpoke.”

You shove him back, his tone annoying you more than the memories. “Forget it happened.”

“I ain’t forgettin’ nothing.” He groans. “Ya don’t get ta fuck me an’-an’ get all sweet, ‘specting me ta drop it.”

“I lied.” You lie. “I’m not sweet on you. How could I be?”

He hides his face with his hat, but the fuming anger is clear in the air. “Horse shit.”

You force the words out and they nearly burn your throat. “It was just fucking, Micah. Get over yourself.”

“We gonna be sweethearts then, cowpoke.” He chuckles. “Gettin’ all sentimental an’ fuckin’ every night?”

“Bet you’d like that.” You mock, fingers playing with his hair.

He hums. “Maybe I would.”

“My, my, Micah Bell is turning soft.”

“I ain’t turnin’ soft.” He grumbles, pausing for a moment as his hand runs over your chest. “Just like ya.”

“Maybe I should get you a ring, seal the deal.”

“Shut up.” He mutters as his face turns red.

You smile, laughing lightly. “Alright, alright. I do like you, Micah. We can figure out how soft you are later.”

He looks up from the ground, anger covering his face. “Ya think I was too drunk ta remember, that it, cowpoke?”

“I. Lied.”

“Ya ain’t that cruel.” He steps forward. “Yer a bastard, but ya ain’t cruel.”

“And you are.” You huff. “I’m not gonna be with someone like you. Especially not you.”

“But you’ll fuck me?” He laughs in disbelief. “Suppose ya fucked Morgan too? An’ Bill? Javier? Bet ya made real quick work a’ the whole damn gang if yer enough a’ a whore ta play like ya did.”

“Fuck off, Micah.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how ya got inta this, bet ya fucked Dutch and he kept ya around like the bitch you are.”

You turn, pressing your knife to his throat. He puts his hands up and curls his lip in a grimace.

“Stop talking.”

“I got yer attention, cowpoke?” He asks flatly. “Understand how much it stings yet?”

You drop your hand, putting your knife back in its place. “Why do you do that?”

“What?” He sneers.

“Fuck with people’s heads when you know they’ll fuck with you.”

“I like the attention.” He mocks. “Maybe I wouldn’t have ta if I had a fella ta fuck every once an’ a while.”

“Then look somewhere else.” You hiss. “I’ve never done it but I hear Charles swings this way, bet you got off on him throwing you around.”

“I want you, asshole.” He snaps. “Quit playin’ like we ain’t sweet. Like we didn’t have some girly moment last night.”

“I hate you.”

“Maybe. But you’re still sweet on me.” He argues. “Sweeter than ya should be, sweeter than any man has been.”

The twinge in your heart gets to you when you see his face. It’s not quite cold. It’s defensive, but a clear mask to hide how desperate he is.

“Fuck, Micah.” You groan. “You couldn’t just let this go?”

“Ya got no idea how long I wanted ya, not just fuckin’, I… I ain’t sissy enough ta say it but I want it.”

You can’t help yourself despite your better judgment, you pull him close and hug him. “You fuck up, I drop you.”

He holds you tight enough to hinder your breathing slightly, his nose cold against your neck. “I’m in love with ya.”

“Of course you are.” You mutter, too conflicted about his behavior to let your feelings take over completely. “We, uh, we have a lot to talk about, I suppose.”

[gumnut-logic]

Along the Way (Part 4)

Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been re-reading Alexander Sweetapple while feeling crappy over the last few days and am ever so grateful for all the support this series has received from everyone. Apologies for all the delays on this fic. And extra special thanks to both @womble1 and @idontknowreallywhy for adding their glorious talents to this universe as well.

I managed to dig up the next part and write a chunk of it tonight, so here we have more of this fic. It's getting there, I promise.

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for feilding my call for a read through yet again. You are wonderful, m'dear.

I hope you enjoy it. I also hope to write some more asap.

-o-o-o-

He had managed to help the young woman get free of the pile of what felt like wood pinning her legs. They had little light, but with her permission, Alex investigated the source of the pain in…”I’m sorry, what is your name?”

Her voice was shaky. “Elizabeth.”

He sent her a smile but then realised she probably couldn’t see it. “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.”

Her nervous laugh lightened the dark atmosphere just a little.

“I’m Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper and then a whimper as his fingers found the injury to her leg.

Damp and sticky.

Damn.

It was impossible to tell exactly how much damage had been done, but as far as he could tell she had a gash in her leg.

She was crying again.

“It’s okay, we’ll get this bound up and then start looking for a way out of here.”

He wrenched at his shirt, attempting to get the fabric to tear. A brief curse at the simplicity of movie medical situations and what was actually possible; and a fingernail split enough threads to tear a hole. Another few yanks and he decimated whatever the hell he was wearing, but managed to get a strip of fabric long enough to bind Elizabeth’s leg. It didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly.

Next problem.

There were still other people nearby, he could hear various whimpers and a man yelled for help. What Alex needed to do was determine where the hell ‘here’ was and find an exit.

God, he wished Virgil was here.

A blink.

Alex swallowed. Okay, they really needed to get out of here.

But again, he was drawn back to the problem of exactly where ‘here’ was.

His head was pounding and working far slower than he was used to. It was frustrating.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” The shape that was Elizabeth was turned towards him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Bit of a headache. Just thinking about how to get out of here.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

He was in Gisborne.

The thought came to him suddenly and glaringly.

Gisborne. Why was he in Gisborne?

The throb in his head made thinking so hard. An image of Erica shooing him out of his lab.

He blinked dust out of his eyes. Erica was always shooing him out of his lab. She smotherhenned him within an inch of his life sometimes.

And he loved her for it.

His world was so different from what it had been before. He was so lucky. He was able to create what needed creating. He had the support of some of the most powerful people in the world.

Unassuming powerful people who offered him coffee and a smile.

So lucky.

“Alex? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?”

The darkness had him wanting to close his eyes.

But he couldn’t.

Because it was a symptom of a head injury.

Holographic Scott Tracy said so.

“Yeah, I’m good.” A deep breath, laden with dust and moisture. Water was still dripping somewhere. “We’re in Gisborne.”

“Yes, we are. In the Tairiwhiti Museum.” Elizabeth’s voice was steadier. “In the cafe.”

In the cafe?

Mum.

“I was here with my mother!” He desperately tried to draw information from his foggy memory. “She…” Where was she? His heart hurt to think of her lying somewhere in this darkness. He raised his voice. “Doctor Sweetapple?!” A struggled breath. “Mum?!”

Several voices answered, crying out for help.

None were his mother.

He swallowed. Walk it through.

He needed to find his mum.

He needed to help these people.

And they needed to get out of here.

As if reading his intentions, the floor he and Elizabeth were sitting on groaned, and something in the distance snapped like a gunshot.

And the whole building moved.

Alex yelled as the floor tipped, sliding downhill with a screaming screech. He grabbed Elizabeth and the nearest fixture in the dark and clung to both in the roar of snapping crumbling wood and brick.

Until it all slammed to a stop, wood raining down on them both.

The silence that followed was marred by the sound of rushing water.

The building was now on an angle, dust falling past them.

Elizabeth was crying in his arms while he desperately attempted to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

At least he now had a direction. Up was likely out.

And they needed to get out now.

-o-o-o-

“Alex is here…in Gisborne?” The words drifted from Virgil’s throat as he stared at small holographic Scott standing on his wrist.

“Yes, he went there for lunch with his mother.”

Virgil looked at the devastated landscape around him. Alex was somewhere in this?

He straightened his shoulders. “Do we have any idea of his location?”

John appeared beside Scott. “His credit card was last used at the Farmer’s Market. Street camera footage has him and his mother walking across the Peel Street bridge half an hour before the quake hit.”

The fact that neither of those systems were able to be accessed by ‘unauthorised’ personnel was completely ignored.

The fact the Peel Street bridge was now in the river it was supposed to span was far from encouraging either.

Virgil was currently standing on the remains of one of the taller buildings in the city, so he could see across the devastation towards the river and the remains of the markets where Alex might be.

He swallowed his instinctive reaction down, his need to be there immediately, the need to find his…friend.

He swallowed again, pushing his heart into his boots and straightened. His brother’s news had come just as they pulled the last out of the building beneath his feet. “Thunderbird Five, where are we needed next?”

His holographic brothers didn’t respond immediately, John’s hands darting across controls Virgil could not see. Scott’s expression was one Virgil did not want to parse.

Not now.

But John understood. “Local services are requesting liquefaction assistance along the Portside riverbank. Thunderbird Two is needed along with some rescuee extraction.”

“FAB.” Virgil turned, his exosuit wheezing with every movement.

“Thunderbird One will attend Gisborne shortly. I just need to finish up here. ETA fifteen minutes.” The Commander’s voice hid everything.

Virgil nodded, thankful for holographic technology, his throat suddenly tight.

“We will find him, Virgil.”

Another nod.

“FAB.”

-o-o-o-

Next

[doombum]

Can we get your scoop to Michael head cannons? (If I ask this and forgot then Elizabeth :>)

I think you already asked that but my memory is awful and it doesn’t really matter, you can have some more scooped Mikey headcanons:

It hurts him to speak but he does it anyway because while Ennard was in control, it was basically the only thing he could control because Ennard/the funtimes just used their voice box. It brings him a strange sense of comfort to have at least one thing they didn’t take from him.

His body is very weak and he can’t do too much at once or he’ll get exhausted very quickly. Just standing up and walking can be hard after some time, which is why he often uses crutches when he goes out (though he hates it at first)

He became taller too, because Ennard miscalculated and he was a bit bigger than Michael was, so his body was stretched to accommodate. It made it hard to walk at first because he had a whole new centre of gravity (add to that the sudden change of weight because of the lack of organs, and he basically had to learn how to walk all over again).

He always hated looking at himself in the mirror, because of how much he looked like William, and that didn’t particularly change at first because he felt absolutely disgusted by the sight of himself. With time (and Jeremy’s neverending comfort and reassurances), he ended up getting used to it and even preferred seeing himself as a corpse than as William

He used to wear the mask everywhere he went, including at home, but Jeremy slowly managed to make him feel comfortable enough to not wear it inside at least. Though every time someone comments on his appearance or he brings a new ghost child home, he ends up having to start the process all over again. He is just very self-conscious and doesn’t handle well stares and mean comments

And here you go for Liz, because she deserves some attention too:

She is the middle child in my AU (just because I like the idea of Evan being the youngest). She is also the one who died first in the family.

She acts a lot like a spoiled kid and always demands to be offered things and be the centre of attention, but she is not really that spoiled in reality. Her father ignores her a lot and only gives her things so that she’d stop bothering him. Mike tries to please her, but he doesn’t have much money to give her as much as she wants. She easily gets jealous of other kids as a result.

She comes off as very selfish and bratty to other kids in her class, but it’s just because she tries to imitate William. At home, she is really kind and always tries to help her brothers and spend time with them. She plays and draws with Evan a lot and they often watch Fredbear and Friends together. She also tries to help Mike around the house because she sees that he’s tired and doing his best to care for them so she wants to participate.

She would get jealous of her brothers, but she could see that they weren’t really getting more attention than she was. The three of them were actually pretty close before everything went to shit when William killed Charlie. Grief is what ultimately drove them all apart.

She didn’t really have any friends in school and it really bothered her a lot because she couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong. Her brothers tried to cheer her up but it didn’t always work.

She idolises William all the way up to fnaf 6, when she finds out he planned for her to kill Mike at SL and she feels betrayed. She sticks with Mike from then on and considers him her new dad/father figure because he always was there for her and William can go rot in Cassidy’s hell.

She never wanted to actually kill the nightguard, but she had been alone, scared and in pain in the SL basement for decades and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She felt awful the whole time Ennard was using Mike’s corpse as a skinsuit and was trying to convince the funtimes to leave now that they were free. She really hoped that the nightguard was not conscious of the whole thing (she was horrified to find out he was).

[siriouslytired]

Feedback fest 2024 🌻

Well RIP to my bookmarks because I just noticed that so many of my favourite fics have been deleted or made anonymous/put in a collection. Thought it would be fun to do this anyway.

Also apparently I managed to post this when it wasn't done (can you tell technology doesn't like me?) And for some reason I couldn't edit the original post (and what's up with that??). So uh, if anyone had liked the first post I deleted it because I got annoyed.

All fics on the list can be found on AO3

A Year In Toussaint by astolat

The Witcher; Rated E; Geralt of Rivia/Emhyr var Emreis

"[...] - and found himself spilling the whole sob story of his success to Emhyr, who actually broke and laughed out loud when Geralt got to the racehorses."

One of my comfort fics, will read it for a multitude of reasons but mostly just because it's so well-written and engaging (which is just all of astolat's fics really)

Hunger and Appetite by thegoodbutter

Shadow & Bone; Rated E; Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov; Modern AU

I couldn't actually tell you how many times I've read this, it's just SO GOOD. And the food descriptions are just fantastic, makes me want to cook up a storm/start baking something even though I hate doing the dishes afterwards.

The Stars Don’t Shine, They Burn by Sarcasmismydefaultmode

Shadow & Bone/The Witcher; Rated E; Alina Starkov/Emhyr var Emreis; Second Best AU

Read it. Do it. It's so fucking good. I usually don't read crossovers anymore but I couldn’t resist this one and it was so worth it. It blends the two worlds so well while making sure that the edges are obvious enough that you can still tell which parts came from what canon.

Amazing Grace (series) by Druid Moon

Marvel Cinematic Universe; Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton; Many references to different forms of crafts

A relic from when I mostly read MCU fics that I return to again and again and again. Super cosy, slightly sad, incredibly well-written, one of those fics that just draws you in once you start reading it.

coronas of wolf-teeth and rivers by Dialux

A Song of Ice and Fire; Not Rated; Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark; AU; Robert dies at the Trident, Ned dies at the Tower of Joy, Catelyn becomes Queen of Westeros

I remember reading the summary and basically attacking my phone screen to open the fic. It ties itself together so neatly from the premise and the way Catelyn is written is just fantastic.

Diplomatic Relations by KrazzeeAJ1701

Star Trek; Rated M; James T Kirk/Sybok; AU, Female James T. Kirk

Listen, I had a phase where I mostly read gender swap and I found some real gems - this being one of them. I don't re-read it as often as I should but every time I do I remember how much I like it and how fantastic the writing is. The set-up just makes sense and the progression of the story makes you want to keep reading forever.

the ghosts won't matter because we'll hide in sin by soapboxblues

A Song of Ice and Fire; Jaime Lannister/Lyanna Stark; AU

A cute little AU where Lyanna survives the Tower of Joy and is subsequently turned into a political pawn etc etc. Incredibly well-written and the pieces just fit together so well.

The Debt of Time by ShayaLonnie

Harry Potter; Rated E; Sirius Black/Hermione Granger; AU, Time Travel, Soul Bond

I must have read this at least 15 times by now. It just works so well, you know?

For One Last Day by fideliant

The Hobbit; General Audience; Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield; AU

"The things we don't do for love." It's so bittersweet and lovely and all those wonderful things that make me want to smile and cry at the same time. Sort of chances-not-taken and now we're old wrapped up in this little moment that fits so well into the canon of LOTR.

Eurybia by Annerb

Pirates of the Caribbean; Rated T; Elizabeth Swan/Will Turner; Jack Sparrow/Elizabeth Swan; AU

"A love story. Elizabeth Swan and the sea." Read it. Just do it. It's so so so good. And it's barely 1200 words so you can read it and then spend an hour contemplating what you just read and still have time to do other things.

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 30: Self-Worth/Self-Love ~ James Norrington/OC [1.973 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my behemoth of a main fic about these two is here 💜✨

This is the final bit in the little mini storyline I had going on with these - it's first referenced in day 10, it builds a bit in day 21, and we dig into it properly here!

On their final night in London together, Theo had to concede that she hadn’t had half as bad a time as she’d expected. In fact, she hadn’t had a bad time at all. Sure, she spent the first couple of weeks waiting for all to suddenly turn bitchy towards her, using things she’d said when her guard was down to mock the begloved Irishwoman who may or may not have been a witch, but…it didn’t happen. And now their final social occasion, their farewell dinner, was drawing to a close, and she had to accept that it simply was not going to happen. Screw interdimensional time travel, this was the real miracle.

She’d even taken to dressing how she actually wanted to dress. Alright, leggings and band shirts were still out, but to her own tastes as far as fashions of the time went – rather than cosplaying as whatever she thought people would expect Mrs Norrington to appear. Which often meant dressing how Elizabeth would.

The last of their guests, Lord and Lady Montague, remained in the drawing room as the others left in order to finalise business, and everything was looking decidedly golden.

“I’ll confess, Admiral Norrington,” the older man insisted on continued use of James’ former title – a mark of respect, she thought, “I was prepared to come here, listen to some hare-brained scheme, before throwing what little gold and help I possibly could at it merely as a personal favour to Governor Swann.”

“Oh really, Henry,” his wife scolded, very half-heartedly, from where she sat beside Theo.

“I wouldn’t say it now if it had all proven true,” he pressed on. “I confessed myself impressed, by your plans, by your lovely wife, by you, by all of it. And very optimistic. You go forth with my full backing, and not just the sort that I offer out of obligation to save any awkwardness.”

Theo smiled, bowing her head as Lady Montague – or Alice, as she insisted she call her – squeezed her arm as if in agreement. Her experience with the upper crust of English society had begun with Beckett, and he was an act she had no wish to see repeated.

The Montagues stood, James and Theo following suit as Henry continued.

“I wish you luck, not that I think you’ll need it, going forth – and going forth with all the support you might need, from myself at least. And my contacts in the north. I’ve already written to them, I did so last night so I could reassure you of that fact before we saw you off.”

It was taking all Theo had not to start literally jumping for joy. As James expressed his thanks, Alice rounded on her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Speaking of writing, you must promise to do so! You’ve been such a breath of fresh air, Theodora, I’m going to miss you sorely when you’re gone! You must come again. I insist, I really do.”

“I will,” Theo laughed. “I promise, I will.”

Her penmanship with a quill was improving, so with any luck James wouldn’t be obligated to scribe whatever letters she had to send.

The goodbyes were lengthy, but the moment they were out of the door and well out of earshot, Theo was hooting a laugh and throwing her arms about her husband in celebration – not content to let him downplay his success here. Only after that did the tiredness that had been culminating over the course of their time here really hit, and she returned to the sofa and sank down onto it with a sigh.

“You made an enthusiastic friend in Lady Montague. For life, I should think,” James said as he followed her in.

“Careful, James, you’re brushing against condescension – all that’s missing is a pat on the head and a good girl.”

Although that last part might be worth revisiting at a later date. He chuckled, walking to the bar cart and pouring them each a drink before he sat down on the couch beside her, handing her the crystal tumbler of whiskey.

“I know these things are tiring for you, but if it’s any consolation you handled it all marvellously.”

Theo made a humming sound, taking a sip and sighing. He was right – they were exhausting. Not even just because of the cultural differences, which one wouldn’t expect to exist between two such small neighbouring islands, but because of her origins, too.

“It wasn’t so bad as it was when I first arrived,” she admitted. “I…have more stable footing now, than I did back then. Don’t need to be paranoid that if I say my favourite colour is blue, it’ll be a secret code for I worship the devil every Tuesday night in these times.”

“No, that would be red,” he said drily.

“Duly noted.”

Back when she first arrived, it had been toughest. Having to constantly self-edit and really think over what she said before she said it, thinking of how she could skew an anecdote to fit the time – or if she could at all – by which point, the conversation had often moved on and she was left standing quietly like a lawn ornament to the side. With James, it had always been surprisingly easy. Even before he knew, when they were just talking, and he wasn’t trying to finagle details of her past out of her. And now she didn’t have to worry about it with him at all. A safe haven in human form.

It was Theo’s own humble opinion that she was at her best when she could speak her mind and crack her stupid jokes and, well, breathe. That hadn’t often been possible in Port Royal. Because they were of this time, and because they seldom shared her sense of humour – and going into this, she’d expected it to be more of the same. Amplified, perhaps, because this was London, where all of them had hailed from.

But either island life had made those there less friendly towards newcomers, or the old lot just really resented her for what she’d found with James. Then again, maybe arriving as a castaway, living in the jungle for a bit, and then running off with a pirate…multiple times…had something to do with it, too. Who knew?

In any case, she’d lucked out here – and she was relieved, but exhausted still. And more than a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry.”

“For worshipping the devil?”

He had not sensed her change in tone, thinking she was still joking. There was a precedent for that, wasn’t there? Theo was content to let it rest there, unsure if it was really a conversation she wanted to have anyway. But then he turned his head and regarded her fully, and the silence became a little less comfortable than it usually was between them.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, and then when she did not respond, asked again. “Theodora?”

“It…doesn’t come naturally to me. Not here.”

“What doesn’t?”

“The social side of it. Here.”

“She says as we sit here, drinking to her success.”

“We’re drinking to our success, don’t be daft.”

“I’m drinking to yours. Now tell me what you meant. Was someone unkind tonight?”

“Not at all. But…”

Well, they were having the conversation now. What good would it be to sit and make him pull teeth and figure out what was bothering her via a series of yes-or-no questions?

“…this is what wives are supposed to do, isn’t it? Here, I mean. Take joy in organising dinner parties and playing hostess and filling every spare hour of every day with luncheons and dinner parties and balls? Representing the team in the sophisticated social circles – the ones not inhabited by pirates and sex workers, anyway. It’s not exactly…”

A marriage to a fine woman. But she wouldn’t use those words – because they weren’t meant for her ears, because it would appear the matter of Elizabeth still weighed upon her (which it genuinely did not), and because it didn’t exactly convey how she felt. That made it sound like she doubted his feelings for her, or like she had no self-worth…which had never been one of her problems. God bless her dad and how he’d raised her.

“I don’t fulfil the traditional job requirements,” she finished lamely.

Then, though, she saw how he looked almost outraged by her words and winced.

“I’m not saying I don’t think you’re happy. Only that it would be understandable if you were…oh, I don’t know. Frustrated, now and then, at having a wife who you always need to explain to people.”

In all of their time together, they hadn’t ever really had a chance at living in a normal manner up until now. There’d always been some sort of grander game at play – some new adventure-slash-mortal peril tugging at their tailcoats. The bits in-between that kinda sorta resembled normality had been breathers. Blips between storms – between maelstroms.

James smiled a little as he bowed his head, and Theo wasn’t sure how to even begin taking the gesture. Had she really sounded that ridiculous? God, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth at all. But when he raised his head again and looked to her, the smile slipped away, and she knew her worry had shown on her face.

Sighing, he bent forward to set his glass down on the floor, and then took her free hand in both of his.

"Do you think I have none of the same fears? Three centuries of progress lies between here and where you hailed from. Between myself and then. And you have given up much for me…have sacrificed much for me..." as he spoke, he ran his thumb over the knuckles of her gloved hand. “I believe that you are happy just as you know that I am. But, sometimes, I do fear that one day you may grow to question whether it was all worth it. For you have sacrificed plenty, and I have gained much. I have gained everything.”

“Everything you’ve gained, I have too,” she insisted. “I never regret the choice I’ve made. Not even in passing.”

“And nor do I. I do not wish for a wife, Theodora. I want you. As you are. However you are. However you will be. And as for needing to explain you to people – if they do not possess good taste, that is their own affair. I enjoy being among the lucky collective who do.”

Theo felt herself flush, but he was not finished. He slipped one hand away from hers and brought it instead to cup the side of her face, thumb running across her cheek just as it had with her knuckles, urging her towards him so that he could kiss her – a kiss that was so slow and filled with such adoration that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to string another sentence together for at least an hour.

He pulled back, but kept her close, pressing his brow against hers.

“And I confess, if you suffered a head injury and began to take joy in little other than place settings and the town gossip, I should still love you but I would mourn it,” he teased. “You take little joy in these sorts of gatherings? Good. Nor do I. So I know I will never need to suffer through them unless entirely necessary – and when those times do come, I’m afforded the opportunity to witness you, to use your own wording, charm the pants off of those necessary. Now tell me, what facet of any of this is supposed to disappoint me?”

“What if I tell you I really am a witch?” she teased, pressing another kiss to his lips as if to prove her mood had lightened.

“I shall carry your broomstick for you with great pride,” he promised.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[kira-nerys-rocks]

5, 10, 14, 24 (Elizabeth Weir for any of the insert character ones :) )

Thank you so much for this Elizabeth centered ask <3

5 Out of all your fanworks that include Elizabeth, which is your favourite?

Oh, this is a tough one since I have made so many and quite a few that I really love! And I'm really bad at picking favourites. I think I'll just go with this one though, because I just touched it up a bit and it definitely is one of my favorite fanarts with Elizabeth and I'll get it signed by Torri and Rachel at Basingstoke next month.

Of my fics... I think I might go with this Cornweir fic because I love how flirty she is here xD

10 What's your favourite piece of fanart for Elizabeth?

Oh, again tough, there's so much great fanart out there! You make great fanart and so do @xenantis and @salchat just to name a few...

I think one of my favorites is this one, which I've had as a background on several phones, unfortunately I have no idea who made it, I downloaded it ages ago (please let me know if you know who made so I can give proper credit)

14 Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

Hm. Not really... I think it was a tiny bit unexpected for me to write for a hetero ship when I wrote my first msr fanfic but I wouldn't say that I was sure I wouldn't ever write a hetero ship xD

24 What's your favourite thing about Elizabeth?

Okay, also here, where do I start and where do I stop? I just love her so much for so many reasons and im still sure I'll forget to list some of them♥️ also thanks for letting me talk about one of my favorite characters ever!

I love how skilled she is when it comes both to diplomacy and leadership qualities. She's literally so badass when she walks into negotiations with the Genii alone, unarmed, blindfolded and handcuffed and they're still scared of her because their intimidation tactis don't work the way they want them to because she's just that good? Queen. Literally. I also love it when she worries about the teams when they're late on their reports and she just knows them so well that she prepares rescue missions even when she has no confirmation yet. I also love it when she is sassy and defends both her own decisions or those of her subordinates. I also love it that she's a hugger and a dog person! There's just so much that I love about her. Have I mentioned that I love her? No?

Fandom Asks

[bellarkeselection]

Hi again, I’m sure you know I’m gonna ask for a Spencer Dutton where he and the reader are back at the ranch and the reader protects the other women and Spencer is proud and bragging about her? Please 🙏

Sexy Angel Ain't You're Only Nickname

Whipping my head around I fired another bullet from the shotgun in my hands seeing that the sheep herders were back on our ranch again. Kicking my horse in the belly I saw Cara and Elizabeth coming from the barn but neither had a firearm since they were working. They screamed ducking underneath the shots where I also saw my husband Spencer shooting some of the men from the front porch. I fired the last shot that I had killed the final sheep herder that was directly in front of them where he collapsed onto the ground. "Y/n!" Spencer rushed down the stairs watching me lower my weapon hair tousled and I was covered in a little blood but he found you absolutely badass and beautiful when he approached. "Uh...let's get you cleaned up inside."

"Thank you, sweet girl." His aunt Cara responded leading Elizabeth to another part of the house to try and calm her nerves. Jacob and the cowboys would take care of the bodies and send a message to the ones who were left alive. Spencer pushed open the door to our bedroom open watching me walk inside pulling my shirt over my head wincing when I saw that a bullet must have grazed my side because I was bleeding a little. "Crap. I didn't even feel it...I guess I'm not as good of a fighter as I thought." Spencer strides up cupping my face in his hands kissing me longingly where it almost feels like the wind was knocked out of me. Wrapping my arms around his neck I deepened the kiss where he picked me up carrying me into the bathroom sitting me down on the tub breaking the kiss when we needed air. "You're still a sexy Angel to me, Y/n - honestly I am so amazed by you. I want you so bad right now do you know that?"

Leaning up I gripped his shirt in my hands drawing him in for another heated kiss where he moaned when my fingers ended up in his hair. "Then what's stopping us. You told me the night we met that life was too short." Spencer didn't waste another second picking me up again and we stumbled into the bedroom and onto the bed. He kissed me deeply where I moaned when he kissed my neck removing our clothes in the process. "You aren't like most girls I've come across Y/n...you're my darling." He muttered where I smiled into the kiss knowing he was right because I wasn't immediately attracted to him. I also knew how to fight even though I was raised to be a proper lady. "Spencer if you keep calling me every nickname you can think of we might never leave this room ever again." I chuckled breaking the kiss to see a huge smirk grew across his face before I squealed until we heard his uncle holler from the front porch. "We can hear! Close the window!"

Comments really appreciated ❤️