#Dewey Does a Fic

[mountain-dew-tickledpink]

hey guys I wrote for once

[deweysdenouement]

“This stays between us,” Ernest instructs his brother as Frank silently stitches the small but deep wound on his right side. “Seriously. Not even if Dewey asks.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gossip,” Frank murmurs, finishing his work with surgeon-like precision.

“Come on, you owe me one.” Ernest nudges him with his boot. “That man thought I was you.”

“I always tell you not to do that,” Frank scowls. “You should have let me take the hit.”

“You would do the same for me. You have done the same for me.”

Frank drops the used needle into the tray beside his couch with a clank and a blank expression. “That was different,” he says. “I didn’t know the poison was in the sugar. I thought the violence would start after the tea.”

“You expect too much civility from your side,” Ernest tells him. “They were trying to kill either way. Why let someone finish their breakfast?”

“They were very polite.” Frank pours rubbing alcohol onto a cotton pad. “And J always…hey, do not scratch those stitches.”

“My associates just went for the gut.” Ernest winces at the burning sensation of the alcohol. “Didn’t take much of a look at me.”

Frank stares at him. He’s got the kind of stare that goes right through a person.

“What?”

“You’re upset,” Frank states.

“Alright, Captain Empathy.” Ernest rolls his eyes. “I scratched the stitches and it hurt, just get on with telling me off.”

“That would probably make both of us feel better,” Frank agrees. “But I’m asking you why anyway.”

“If you’d been the one who got stabbed, you’d have clammed up until the end of time,” Ernest says bitterly.

“We’re different people.” Frank puts down the cotton pad and folds his hands.

“I wish we were,” Ernest snaps, which he doesn’t mean to say at all, but his side is burning and a not-insignificant amount of his blood is on the floor.

Frank just nods. He doesn’t need any further explanation.

“Do you remember when we were little?” Ernest asks finally. “Before…before everything. And I cried because we all got different colour scarves for our birthday and I wanted red like yours?”

“So we’d match.” Frank smiles a little. “Yours was green.”

“And Dewey’s was yellow.” Ernest nods. “But Father sat us down and he told us that he didn’t want us to just be identical triplets our whole lives. He wanted us all to be as different as we could possibly be. That’s the only memory I have of him.”

“I remember,” Frank’s voice is soft. “I don’t think they ever mixed us up once.”

“I hate that they believed I was you so easily,” he says. Then, “No offence.”

Frank snorts.

“They don’t see a single tell,” he continues. “We’re one person on two sides. Where do you draw the line? What’s me, and what’s me pretending to be you? And what’s me pretending to be you pretending to be me? Are we both just pretending to be a manager?”

“Ernest.” Frank holds out a hand. “Stop.”

“Sorry.” Ernest shakes his head. “Too sincere for you?”

“I read the files on our parents,” Frank says quietly.

Ernest stills. Dewey had handed them each a copy of VFD’s records of their parents some years ago. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read them, and neither had Ernest. He had been under the impression that Frank had never touched them either. The last he was aware, none of them knew a single thing about their parents beyond blurry, unreliable memories.

“How is that relevant?” Ernest says at last.

“Because…” Frank considers his words. “I looked at all these photos. I read people’s accounts of meeting them. Letters they wrote, diary entries. Even their school reports.”

“And?”

“And I’m nothing like them.” Frank smiles grimly. “I’m too neurotic, I was too clingy at school, I don’t laugh much. Our mother loved sesame and I’m allergic. Our father couldn’t focus on anything, but I can’t put something down until it’s finished. And they seemed so fun.”

“Where is this going?”

“Let me finish.” Frank huffs. “Our father questioned everything. He made trouble every single day at school, but it was because he had the strongest sense of justice any of those teachers had ever seen. He was charming and funny and he loved the sauna. He was a terrible dancer but a great singer. He wanted to be a cowboy when he was little.”

“Frank.” He can feel a dam starting to crack, something swelling to bursting in his chest.

“You’re not me,” Frank says sternly but gently. “You’re our father’s son. And that man is so loved and so missed. Which I’m told he would have been cocky about.”

Ernest laughs a little shakily.

Later, when he returns to his own room to rest, he finds a photo tucked into the pages of the book on his nightstand.

The man in it has a squarer jaw and darker hair, but the smile that looks back at him is like staring in a mirror.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation

how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:

ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys

connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!

“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful

second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds

rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all

assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons

(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)

a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?

b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.

c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit

can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions

coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after

now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?

hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it

connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.

version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.

version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals

also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?

um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au

[pathologicalreid]

fluff masterlist

main masterlist

note: italicized titles denote requests

spencer reid x fem!reader

clue: in which penelope hosts a new year's eve party. with a murder mystery theme.

doctor and doctor: in which you add a degree to your repertoire

newly creds: in which the BAU team wants to see your newly issued credentials

nicknames: in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname

attention: in which you attempt to get your boyfriends attention

fluorescent: in which spencer rambles about rocks and you get distracted

drop: in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

occupational hazard: in which you and spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

in sickness and in health: minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.

cryptic: you and spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams

breakfast in bed: your boyfriend surprises you with breakfast in bed to celebrate spring break

in plain sight: your quick thinking (in an attempt to protect him) leads to a very thankful spencer

puzzling: trying to tell spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

red flags: spencer protects you from a drunkard

(lack of) convenience: the power of suggestion leads you to take a pregnancy test while you're on a case - and it's positive

three's a family: you and spencer are surprised to find out that you're pregnant, while you're already in labor (yes, this is a second cryptic pregnancy fic)

pure and applied chemistry: your boyfriend picks you up as a surprise at your chemistry lab (biochemist!reader)

separation anxiety: spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you

orange juice: you and spencer have an announcement to make, but you're not sure how to go about it

a special occasion: moving your daughter into a toddler bed brings about some interesting conversation

kindergarten crush: when one of your students goes missing, the BAU sends the A-team to question you

goads and goats: telling your dad (who's also your boss) you're pregnant ends in him giving spencer a hard time

a league of your own: when your boyfriend seemingly evolves, you resign yourself to the feeling of being left behind

fishbowl: you offer to bring spencer lunch when he forgets his at home, leading you to become an object of curiosity at the BAU.

dewey decimal system: in which spencer does the most spencer activity first thing in the morning - reorganizing your bookshelves

amorphous: your first ultrasound goes exactly how you'd expected it to, but not exactly how you'd wanted it to

sweet talker: in which french!reader gets caught using a special nickname for a particular genius

litmus test: in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

blue ribbon: in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen

first snow: in which you and Spencer experience the first snow in your new apartment together

spencer reid x gn!reader:

heatmiser: spencer takes care of you when he comes home to find you sick

running on empty: spencer makes a bet to go without coffee and ends up foregoing all caffeine

spencer reid x platonic!fem!BAU!reader

neophyte (2): in which dr. reid gives advice to help you cope with the requirements of your new job

[enden-agolor]

Oh yeah I know I said I’d never make a mcsm oc but… does giving Dewey a cute little girlfriend for one of my fics count? She is Stella and Binta’s kitty 👀

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[garlicbreadbatstarion]

BG3 Companion Headcanons

🌈☔🌤️ Enjoying Their Favorite Weather 🌤️☔🌈

Lae'zel:

This gith loves a super windy day

It is invigorating and helps her feel physically present

Also she knows she looks deadlyyy with her hair blowing around her head, her eyes narrowed, and her head down as she walks against the wind

Halsin:

I feel like Halsin loves a rainy evening+dewey morning combo in the spring

Like the soft sound the falling droplets make as they splatter against his tent help him drift off to sleep and dream of ducklings

And the next morning he loves to walk through the forest when the sun is coming up so he can watch the mist slowly rise as the light reflects off the wildflowers and the spiderwebs sparkle in the trees

Karlach:

I'm convinced she's a tropical beach kinda gal so hot, sticky, and sunny all the way

Any other companion in my head is usually wearing their starting outfits when I think of them, but Karlach? Shutter shades and a pina colada served in a pineapple

She's also on fire all the time, so the heat doesn't bug her at all!

I feel like the beach was made for her; rainbow sunsets, the crashing waves, the vastness of the ocean, hot sand between your toes, sandcastles, bonfires...like she would love everythinggg about it

Astarion:

Idk if it's bc there's so many cute fics with Star in snow, but ughhh it melts my cold, dead heart

Like the absolute stillness of flakey snow falling heavily in the night would make him feel at ease

And the way the snow sparkles in the moonlight inspires him to be creative (I am personally a big fan of thinking one of his hobbies post-epilogue is jewelry making. The little details keep his hands busy while his good taste and imagination help him design some of the coolest jewelry in all of Faerûn)

Also, like Karlach, the cold doesn't bother him nearly as much as it does most others

Gale:

We love an unstable king which is why I think Gale loves big storms with lots of wind, thunder, and lightning

AU storm chaser Gale?? I think I'm onto something here truly

And also it gives him great opportunities to conduct experiments and run tests! It's aliveeee!!!

Shadowheart:

Our broody queen loves mist and fog

It makes her want to snuggle up with a book and some tea by the window to just enjoy the peace and quiet

Also likes to be a mischievous, little gremlin and scare her partners/friends/roommates by waiting around the side of the house, knowing it's obscured, and then jumping out and grabbing them

And you want to be mad for how bad she scares you every time, but it's so hard bc she wrinkles her cute lil nose when she laughs and ughhh

Wyll:

Wyll loves space change my mind

He adores a clear, warm night so he can be out all night stargazing

And ooooo a meteor shower? This man is giddily kicking his feet, he is so enraptured by the magic of the night sky

He also loves to point out the constellations, and he's so good, even Gale is astounded by how many astral entities he knows

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being the Nonbinary Wilkerson Sibling

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Pride Month 2024 #8

Relationship(s): The Wilkerson Family x nonbinary!Wilkerson!reader (platonic/familial)

Warnings: Coming out scene(s). Hal isn't completely accepting at first, but he's not outright transphobic. And, Ida is her typical self and is transphobic (but nothing is said explicitly). I've tried to make the reader's AGAB ambiguous, but apologies if anything's slipped through the cracks. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I have no idea why it's taken me so long to write for Malcolm in the Middle. It's one of my favourite shows and I love these characters so much. I've got an idea for a MitM fic where the reader is Malcolm's best friend and when Malcolm goes away for college the reader befriends and starts dating Reese, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading that, or if you have any other requests you'd like me to write. I'm kind of obsessed with and fascinated by Lois and Francis, so there's a lot of Lois and Francis stuff in this. I'd love to write a follow up/companion piece to this fic, so if you've got any ideas for that, or if you'd like for me to come up with something myself, let me know.)

The first person in your family that you come out to is Jamie.

He can’t talk, or comprehend your words.

So, you get the benefits of finally admitting this thing that’s been weighing on you without it having any true consequence.

You’re babysitting him one day, when everyone else is out, and you say to him:

“Hey, Jamie. I know you have no idea what I’m saying but if I don’t say it soon I’m going to explode.”

He just looks at you blankly.

“I’m nonbinary. So, I’m not a boy like you, and I’m not a girl like mom.”

All you’re met with is another blank stare.

“Yeah, I must be going pretty insane if I’m trying to explain this in a way you’ll understand.”

The next logical choice is Francis.

After all, he’s far away and you don’t see him often, so you don’t have to live with him if he ends up rejecting you.

Not that you expect that from him, as your cool brother who respects pretty much everything that goes against tradition.

You call him one day, when you miraculously get the house to yourself.

“Francis, I need to tell you something.”

“You’re not calling me from jail, are you?”

“No.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I… I’m nonbinary.”

“The thing where you’re not really a boy or a girl?”

“Yeah, that.”

“How’d mom and dad take that one?”

“That’s the thing. I haven’t told them yet. Or Reese, Malcolm or Dewey.”

“So, I’m the first in the family to know?”

“After Jamie, if he counts.”

“Man, I can’t wait to shove that one in mom’s face.”

“Can you keep this to yourself? Until I’ve told them. I mean, you can tell Piama if you want.”

“Of course. I’ve kept worse secrets than this. Not that this is bad.”

“Thanks, Francis.”

“No problem. And, congrats. I think that’s what I’m supposed to say.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess. So… you’re okay with it?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you think everyone else will be okay with it?”

“If they’re not, they’ll probably come around. But, if they don’t, give me a call, alright?”

He paused, before speaking again.

“Do you like grandma?”

“Ida? Not really. Why?”

“Well, I think that she’d probably have a heart attack if you told her. So… do with that information what you will.”

You tell your family within the next month.

You choose to tell them when you’re having dinner one night.

If a fight breaks out, you figure it won’t be too different to your normal dinners.

Hal looks ever so slightly terrified.

Lois, for once, is at a loss for words, which scares you more than her yelling.

Reese is confused.

Malcolm and Dewey look surprised, albeit not overly shocked.

“What does that mean?” Reese questioned.

“It means…” Malcolm pauses as he looks at you, not sure how to refer to you yet. “You’re not a girl or a boy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But, you’re a-”

You cut Reese off.

“That’s not how I feel. And… I hope that you can all accept that, or try to accept that.”

Your eyes dart around everyone at the table, then you bite your lip and avert your gaze.

“So… do you think you guys can accept that?”

“Sweetheart-” Hal begins hesitantly, but Lois interrupts him.

“How long have you felt this way?”

Her voice is the most uncertain you’ve ever heard it be.

You can’t bring yourself to look up at her.

“Uh, a while.”

“And, you’re sure about it?”

“Do I have to be?”

“No.”

“Well, I am. Mostly.”

“Okay. Then, tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”

Surprised, you nervously tell your family what pronouns to use, and anything else they need to know.

It feels like such a relief.

Over the next few days, you overhear Reese asking Malcolm questions, but they’re both keeping their voices down so that you can’t make out what they’re saying (but you can infer the questions are about you).

Malcolm and Dewey adjust to the change the quickest.

Lois adjusts pretty quickly, too, no doubt because she’s that stubborn and determined not to slip up.

(Part of you wonders if she’s worried that getting it wrong or do anything to make you feel like you’re not accepted by her or the rest of the family will push you away like Francis)

Reese is trying his best, but he gets it wrong half the time, so Malcolm will make sure to correct him.

You notice that, at first, Hal avoids using pronouns for you as much as possible (and your name, if you asked for them to use a new one), and he has that look where he looks like he’s about to keel over and die, or like he’s having some kind of allergic reaction.

But, as time goes on, and with Lois and Malcolm’s insistence, he will try, and he will realise that all that matters is showing you that he loves you no matter what.

You find that Lois will fight for you in whatever way she can.

She overhears some judgemental mothers in the neighbourhood talking crap about you?

She will give them a piece of her mind.

If you’re still at school, and you want your teachers to use your pronouns (and your new name if you have one), then she will march down to the school and speak to the principal.

Your brothers will stand up for you, too.

Francis has told you to call him if anyone gives you a hard time.

If anyone’s a jerk to you, Reese will either punch them in the face or threaten them.

Malcolm will argue with anyone who gives you a hard time.

Dewey will secretly enact calculated revenge against anyone who upsets you, but will deny it when asked.

When Ida finds out about you, she will show up unannounced, storm into the house and start berating you and Lois.

Malcolm calls Francis, and it isn’t long before he turns up, too.

(Everyone knows that Francis will never turn down the opportunity to argue with someone, especially Lois or Ida)

It brings Francis and Lois together in a rare moment of solidarity, and they will spend hours upon hours in a screaming match with her.

(Somewhere along the line, you get the impression that they’ve all forgotten that the argument started with you at the centre)

Eventually, they’ll manage to get Ida to leave.

You’ll get up in the middle of the night to grab a drink and a snack, and you’ll find Lois sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.

“Hey, Mom? I really appreciate you sticking up for me, but I always knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I can take people being assholes to me. You don’t have to keep standing up for me.”

She looks up at you, her exhaustion evident, but she’s still able to keep herself together, somehow.

“Honey, the world’s a cruel place, and it beats this family down enough without adding that gender stuff onto it. But, if that’s who you are, I’m not letting you face this alone. What kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for you to be able to exist like everyone else?”

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

The Ducks Would Love Hamilton

In honour of me seeing Hamilton live tomorrow (!!!) here's some things a friend and I discussed last night about the DuckTales characters enjoying Hamilton.

• Fenton had a slight existential crisis when he was lucky enough to go to a show with the OG Broadway cast, because how in the hell does the guy playing Hamilton sound exactly like him (ooh, how very meta)

• Dewey's the first to discover Hamilton out of the family, and he does not shut up about it. Eventually everyone listens to the album, and while most of them seem to enjoy it, Dewey, Della and Webby are by far the most obsessed. Donald is not a fan, but gets dragged into the whole thing anyways.

• The kids use their dart guns for fake duels in the hallways. Scrooge not only allows this but encourages them (and also turns around so he can have deniability).

• Donald keeps getting woken up early by Della trying to learn the fast part of Guns And Ships. It takes her a while but she eventually gets there. 

• The next time Goldie comes over, someone (probably either Louie or Della) starts playing Say No To This over a Bluetooth speaker. Goldie, having never even heard of Hamilton before, is confused af, while Scrooge is blushing redder than his jacket.

• ^^ Because yes, as much as he hates admitting it, even Scrooge loves Hamilton. For starters, he's always admired the theatre (my hc is that he's a huge Shakespeare nerd since his youth). He also finds Hamilton's whole "determined immigrant" thing wildly relatable, and he also writes like he's running out of time. His favourite song is Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) because y'know. Victory and all that.

• When it's announced that Hamilton is coming to Duckburg, everyone (understandably) flips out. Scrooge anticipates this, and buys tickets super early to guarantee the family gets good seats. It goes... Well, about the way you'd expect a night at the theatre with the Ducks to go.

• Everyone dresses to the absolute nines, even though it's not a particularly fancy venue - it's a big night for them all. Dewey, Della and Webby are actually in full cosplay, while Scrooge, Beakley, Huey, Louie, Launchpad and Donald (who was all but dragged there) are in fairly regular formalwear (the latter two are more along the lines of "business casual" but still).

• Everyone tries to keep a lid on their excitement so they don't get in trouble for singing along, and it kind of works.

• In the end, it's actually Scrooge that's the first to draw unwanted attention, for booing when King George enters to singYou'll Be Back. Something, something, historical hatred of the English monarchy runs deep for Clan McDuck.

• Because they don't wanna get kicked out of the Coolest Musical Ever To Exist (Webby's words), everyone just lip-syncs to the songs. This is exactly what I'm gonna be doing when I go, by the way.

• Webby cries during That Would Be Enough. Della cries in Dear Theodosia and Stay Alive Reprise (Donald even sheds a few tears during those songs, but he'll never admit it.) Everyone ends up a little emotional in Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story. 

• The car ride there (and back) was spent belting out the songs because they knew they couldn't in the theatre. Donald brought his headphones and sits in the back, resolutely listening to Nirvana or something. Am I adding this to the ever-lengthening list of fic ideas? Yeah. Is that a guarantee I'm actually gonna write it? Nope.

[mountain-dew-tickledpink]

Reflection

hesitant to call this boyfs but it kind of his but also isn’t lol

It’s not like Michael ever truly hated Jeremy for the incident junior year with the play and the stupid computer pill. He couldn’t do that, but that didn’t meant that he didn’t need space from Jeremy for a while.

The space ended up being more than he expected. A week grew into a two weeks and then a month and then six months and now he and Jeremy barely talked. It made Michael feel kind of bitter at first, why wasn’t Jeremy doing more to reach out?

But he hadn’t been doing a lot either, and eventually the six months turned into a few years. College happened, new friends happened. But Michael couldn’t help but still think about Jeremy sometimes.

Whatever brought up the conversation he didn’t remember, but Michael was in one of these new friend’s living room on the couch and talking about Jeremy.

“We were best friends for twelve years,” he laughed a little, not focusing on the TV anymore as Eleanor, the friend, listened. “I actually can’t remember a time when I was younger that he wasn’t there.”

There was a pause. The curly brown haired girl squinted her eyes slightly. “Go on…?”

Michael just looked up at the ceiling and shrugged. “And it’s weird because he was kind of my whole life? But I didn’t really listen to him that well.” He took a breath. “I just always assumed we would be on the same page about everything, and we were at some points, but I guess I didn’t realize how he wanted to do things outside of me?”

“That’s what she said.” Eleanor’s eyes opened wide right after she said that. Maybe she realized that wasn’t the most appropriate time to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke, but she stuffed some more popcorn in her mouth.

“Anyways, he eventually got a girlfriend and we had both needed some space. And then the spacing just kept… space-ing?”

Michael took off his glasses and started to clean them on his shirt as he continued. “Things were just complicated, but you know what’s funny? I think he was in some ways my first heartbreak.”

“So you liked him?” Eleanor asked, handing the popcorn bowl back to Michael once he had his glasses back on.

“I mean, yes and no.” He tried to explain. “Like, I would’ve done anything for him. We did kiss a few times in middle school out of curiosity, but I already knew I liked boys before him. We would hold hands, and he was honestly cute, yeah..”

“It kind of sounds like you’re still in love with him…?” Eleanor raised an eyebrow. Michael shook his head.

“No, we haven’t talked in maybe six years.” Technically, they had talked. They still wished each other well on holidays and texted each other for birthdays, but nothing beyond that. “But it still really hurt when we stopped talking.”

“I can imagine.” The girl nodded and then grabbed some more popcorn from the bowl. Michael did too.

It was all complicated. Michael hadn’t even been mad about the squip anymore, or for being left behind. If anything, for a while he had been more upset with the confused feelings he felt like he had been left alone to deal with.

Did he leave Jeremy alone with these feelings too, Michael would often wonder. It’s not like he meant to, he would never hurt Jeremy so badly on purpose.

“After we stopped talking, it felt like losing a limb at first. He had been pretty much everything to me and then was gone?”

Had he been in love with Jeremy or had he just been scared of the change that would’ve happened if Jeremy left?

Was it really a crush or did he just so happen to like holding and giving Jeremy kisses on the cheek and letting him rest his head on his lap?

Why was he thinking so hard about the codependent relationship he used to have? Okay, that wasn’t fair, that relationship had been one of his most important ones for most of his life.

Eventually Michael had been quiet long enough that Eleanor just focused on the movie again, and he pulled out his phone and went through his messages.

He clicked on Jeremy’s name after some scrolling and just stared at the last message. It had been one from himself, just a “you too” after Jeremy said for him to have a good birthday.

Hello

Michael typed out before pressing the backspace button and just putting his phone away.

[tatumsversion13]

possible TW abuse, necrophilia, pro shipping

please read // accusation of being pro ship and engaging with necro fanfiction

I just came across this and I feel like I need to adress some things.

first of all, I DO NOT condone any glamorization of abuse or necrophilia and it upsets me that some people might think otherwise. I’ve created this account two weeks ago to try and connect with others who enjoy Scream just as much as I do but also as a form to inspire myself through fanfic, fanart, etc. When I’m outside or busy, I tend to mass like posts without further checking the tags or what they’re really about (which is probably not the brightest idea) so I can come back and read them later on. Apparently I’ve liked a fic that contained necrophilia. I was not aware that I had liked it but I’m glad someone brought it to my attention! It was 100% unintentional and I am not interested in reading stuff like that. I should’ve known better and double check before liking posts but I never realised it could be a bad idea because I honestly trusted my algorithm to not show me that kind of content. I didn’t even know people were writing about stuff like that. I understand the confusion but it was definitely not intentional. I apologise for any harm of confusion that may have caused.

pro shipping :

Assuming anon defines pro shipping as a person being okay with the shipping of different fictional characters whether they’re canon or not: honestly I don’t really understand the issue with this. Since when is pro shipping a bad thing? I mean the main reason this blog exists is because of a ship..? I only reblog stuff about stu x billy since that’s the only ship I care about regarding Scream (not including gale and dewey i mean they’re cute but idrc). After all those are FICTIONAL characters?? Most of the people I follow are stuilly shippers and the actors themselves openly talk about shipping their own characters? Besides, why would I care if people have other ships, as long as none if it glorifies things like pedophilia and/or abuse (and no, no matter how toxic, in my opinion and from the fanfics I’ve read so far, Stu and Billy’s relationship does not glorify abuse since all of their intimate acts are consensual).

If you consider pro shipping as shipping without limits (ignoring, condoning or glamorizing abuse, pedophila, necrophilia etc. that’s definitely NOT something I would EVER read or approve.

For the rest, I could care less about other people’s interests in fan FICTION (again, as long as they don’t contain any if the things I just mentioned). Feel free to correct me if I forgot something.

misogyny :

I made a post joking about how I don’t like Sidney in Scream 1/still hold a grudge against her. Not liking a character in a fictional movie does not make me misogynistic and I can’t believe I have to explain that. I absolutely adore Sidney’s character throughout the Scream franchise but I have no problem admitting that I did not like her in Scream 1996 for the simple fact that she killed my favourite characters (and she was just annoying). I know she had to defend herself and it’s a movie. Not liking a fictional character is never that deep and it doesn’t have anything to do with Neve.

Anyways, this is not what I expected to see when I came on here and I’m sorry if this sounds a bit defensive, i’m just tired of people acting like they know anything about others without confronting the person first but I am glad I’ve been made aware and I’ll pay attention to the content I engage with in the future! I hope this cleared things up and I’m sorry again.

P.S. If you have any issues with me regarding something I’ve said or engaged with, I would prefer if you dmed me so we can talk about it personally. Thank you for reading!

[ghastlyfilters]

BETRAYAL !

— “AND I HELD YOUR HAND THROUGH ALL OF THESE YEARS, BUT YOU STILL HAVE.. ALL OF ME.”

pairing; billy loomis x fem!reader

summary; what if your biggest betrayal was by someone you’d held the hand of for so many years? billy loomis was supposed to be a pleasant never ending dream, not a soon to be distant memory turned into your one, true nightmare. (reader is replacing the role of sidney)

author’s note: HI. (i was half asleep whilst writing this and found it in my drafts. after reading it, i’m gonna guess it’s something about the whole ‘betrayal’ thing and the reader not knowing the darker truth behind billy’s motive if he is actually the killer? little does she know lmao. but anyway, take this whilst i go finish some requests and write other content. more reqs are open as always. even when i’m busy, i like writing requests here and there. or i’ll leave them for a bit and come back to em! enjoy this fic that i honestly don’t know why my half asleep self wrote💀)

PLEASE DON’T READ IF MENTIONS OF BETRAYAL, DEATH, OR ANYTHING HORROR RELATED AFFECTS YOU!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A shiver ran down your spine as flashbacks of hearing about the deaths of Casey Becker and Steve Orth came creeping back into your head. Had the killer intended for you to be next? Or were you just another random teen fit into this psycho’s cruel joke.

Everything was happening all too fast. Yes, you were now sat in Woodsboro police station after being taken in for your own safety. But did you truly feel safe?

No.

“Y/n?” A voice called out.

“Y/n??”

You quickly snapped out of your unpleasant thoughts, looking up to see Deputy Riley standing over you, holding out a small cup of water.

“Thanks, Dewey.” You whispered with a weak smile, accepting the water and placing it down beside you.

Dewey let out a small sigh as he put a hand on your shoulder. “Try not to overthink things, hm? We’ll have this all sorted out soon enough.”

You ran a hand through your hair, wincing at the sickly feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. You’d been incredibly nauseous ever since you arrived at the station. No wonder. You were probably still in shock after the events of tonight.

“Y/n, please. If you stress you’ll just make yourself even more shaken up than you clearly already are. Do you want me to get the nurse to check you over again?” Dewey asked.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

Dewey gave you a small pat on the back as he cleared his throat, slowly beginning to walk away.

“I’ll take you and Tatum home soon, kay?” He said, turning around one last time before heading back over to Sheriff Burk.

You resumed to wandering back into deep thought. Yeah, you were shaken up from the whole ‘killer’ part of tonight, but that wasn’t what hurt most.

Billy.

His name was beginning to feel like a distant memory, waiting for you to finally let go of.

‘Expect the unexpected,’ Most would say. But had you really imagined the one whom you thought you could trust the most would dare to hurt you?

Never.

After fighting for your life as the suspected killer tried to make it come to a brutal and bloody ending, Billy came out of nowhere, sneakily checking up on you every night as he had done for the past two years.

His timing was off. Way, WAY too off.

But the minute that damn phone fell out his pocket, you felt your heart stop immediately.

One hour ago, 34 Elm Street:

He was after you.

He was after YOU.

You yelped as Woodboro’s newly, anonymous killer made his move on you. He viciously kicked you to the floor with his large black boots, ready to gut you any second now.

Struggling, you desperately tried to pick yourself up, but it was no use. The killer grabbed a fistful of your hair, bashing your head against the laminate.

All you could think about was your upcoming cruel ending. How you were not going to see the ones you loved ever so dearly again. Tatum would never get to have late night movie sleepovers with you, Stu wouldn’t be able to make you giggle with his constant cheesiness, Randy and his little sister couldn’t ever see that bright smile of yours again whenever you’d go over to their house, and Billy, oh, Billy..

Your Billy.

You’d never get the chance to hear that soft voice of his ever again, almost as light as feathers themselves. The feeling of his undying love would soon be nothing. All the blissful memories you once shared were about to be over. Forever.

Finally, the monster behind the mask raised his sharp blade above you, ready to finish you off once and for all.

You quickly pushed him off you, sending the killer flying to the wall. Adrenaline had began to kick in. You couldn’t just be so defenceless and let him end you like that! You HAD to see your loved ones again. And you made sure this fucker wouldn’t prevent you from doing that anytime soon.

Quickly scrambling to the front door, you rattled the chain only to find it locked. Fuck. He could easily get back up in time whilst you tried to fix the lock. It wasn’t worth it.

Without hesitation, the killer got back up once again, launching himself at you. You ducked under him as he had clumsily managed to get his Buck 120 knife stuck in the door.

You headed for the stairs but knew he was hot on your heels. It didn’t take long for you to reach your bedroom, running over to the phone beside your bed desperately trying to dial 911.

“Shit!” You cursed. That bastard was still on the other end of the line.

Your only option was to contact them through the shitty computer you’d had for years now. The thing was slow, but you hoped it would be fast enough for you to alarm the police in time.

You whipped your head around only to see that the masked murderer was.. gone?

Before you could even stop and think for a moment, Billy rushed up to your window, climbing into the room. Oh dear god, it was like your prayers had finally been answered.

“Billy!” You breathed deeply, rushing towards him as if you were a small, frightened animal looking for your mother.

“I heard screaming,” Billy panicked. “The door’s locked. You alright?”

He watched you struggle to breathe properly out of pure fear. Fast, uneasy breaths. You clung to him, not letting go. Your sharp nails digging into his back. Not that he was bothered, that is.

“The killer’s here. He’s in the house! He’s in the house, he’s got a knife!” You cried, breathing in Billy’s cologne and masculine scent.

“He’s gone.” Billy said with a faint whisper, shushing you as you whimpered in his ear. “He’s gone, it’s alright.”

You were safe. You were in Billy’s arms for crying out loud! Everything was going to be fine.

A crash was heard as something had fallen out of your lover’s pocket, heading straight to the floor. You slowly turned your head around, staring directly at the item that had fell.

The phone.

You felt your throat close as it gave you that sickening, nauseating tingle you’d always hated. Your heartbeat became slower and slower. All you could do was stay in Billy’s arms, frozen out of fear before realisation truly hit.

Billy could feel the difference in your bodily functions, and cocked his head as you looked at him in horror, backing away.

“What?” He asked, his tone concerned.

You stared at your lover with pure disgust. Watching as he grew more and more confused. Your mind and mouth did not respond to his series of questions, demanding to know what was wrong and why you were looking at him with such terror.

Everything appeared to soon be ignored as you were only focused on one thing and one thing only.

Betrayal.

Your heart rate finally picked back up again, causing you to run out of the room. Billy followed behind, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t now until he realised you weren’t just running away, you were running away from HIM.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait! Wait, Y/n, wait!” Billy yelled, now full on going after you to get his answer.

You managed to get halfway down the stairs before he stopped chasing you, you could hear him screaming for you at the top of the staircase, leaning heavily onto the banister.

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT! What’s going on?”

Your heart was in your throat whilst you could not believe what was happening right now. Too much, too soon.

“Y/n, come back!” He shrieked.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Now, Woodsboro Police Station:

Tears welled up in your eyes as those dark memories of tonight replayed, ones that would never quite leave your head.

“Y/n!” The same voice from your flashback called.

You looked up, slightly wincing at who you saw through the window of Sheriff Burk’s office.

Him.

Billy stared intensely at you from afar through the glass, his eyes filled with nothing but anger and never ending thoughts of confusion.

Yet, something else hid behind those eyes. A dark type of mystery you weren’t ready to know yet.

It was as if your lover felt the same feeling of betrayal you were experiencing yourself. But not betrayal because you’d suspected it was him trying to kill you, something else that was far different. Something worse.

I mean, you hadn’t did anything, right? It was Billy who had made himself look as guilty as he did. Far too suspicious for anyone to believe for the time being. Yet, his aura practically told you he showed no signs of guilt..

You began to sweat nervously as he continued to stare. What if, it truly had nothing to do with Billy? Had timing been your saviour tonight? Was he innocent enough to prove he had only arrived to your house to see you again?

A darker truth lay untold for now. The feeling of betrayal was mutual, but something else just told one a devious message about the other.

Something was coming.

Something, bad.

Something that in reality, was already here..

B

E

T

R

A

Y

A

L.

[fbfh]

Francis Wilkerson crushing on (obsessing over) you hcs

wc: 1k

pairing: francis wilkerson x gn!babysitter!reader

warnings: (canon) obsessive behavior from francis but reader is into it (against their better judgement /hj), pinning against wall, begging, francis being pathetic for you /pos, reader is trying to be professional lol

summary: Francis knew his mom hired a new babysitter to look after his brothers, but he didn't expect you to be so... perfect. now he has an impossible to manage crush on you.

song rec: obsessed with you - the orion experience

a/n: oh look another obscure heartthrob there are no fics for!! literally how did we get the scene of hal telling the boys what their relationships will be like and that Francis canonically has that gene and have no one simp loudly for him. yes I know this show went off the air years ago and I don't care. also full disclosure, I haven't watched much malcolm in the middle but I think I have a pretty good grasp on the characters let me know if anyone's ooc lmao

@yesv01

Okay starting off strong 

The scene

The Scene?????

Are you fucking kidding me???

So we know he's a bit of a trouble maker 

That's putting it lightly 

But the fact is Francis is not afraid to get his hands dirty 

He is not at all afraid to get fucking messy

And you know having Lois as his mom is more than enough reason for him to be straight up feral

As Hal said, the men in their family have a habit that makes them a little unstable (and very desperate) in relationships 

It's giving greek tragedy curse 

So if you've ever wanted a hot slightly unhinged obsessive pathetic hot mess boyfriend 

Francis is the one for you 

Okay maybe boyfriend isn't quite the right word 

He’s not “technically” your boyfriend yet

But he’s hellbent on getting there eventually

He just has to warm you up a little first

Prove that he would be such a good boyfriend that you couldn’t say no

He just has to really plead his case, tell you how he feels

He figures if he’s up front and honest, lays his cards on the table

If he tells you he’s fallen for you, all the amazing traits he admires about you and that he thinks you could have some great chemistry

That he’d really love to get to know you better 

That he has a good shot at you agreeing to go on a date with him

It’s a solid plan

So he’s not sure how he ends up literally begging you on his knees, arms around your waist and kissing your stomach after getting rejected a dozen times in like two days

He thinks of something smart but every time he opens his mouth something erratic (and probably a red flag) comes out

He didn’t see this coming

No one did except Hal and Lois

Hal should start offering relationship tarot readings because in that minute and a half speech to his kids, he not only predicted Malcolm's first relationship 

But Francis's too

He's hooked up before, had flings here and there 

But he's never really liked anyone 

Until he sees you, the new babysitter Lois hired 

You're so sweet 

You're responsible, make good grades, and actually have a modicum of common sense 

Lois is hoping you're just what her boys need

Francis is often out of the house doing god knows what 

One of the reasons Lois hired you to begin with 

So it's a little while before Francis actually meets you 

But when he does?? 

Holy hell brace yourself 

When Francis sees you it changes his fucking brain chemistry 

He grabs his brothers and is like "That's the babysitter???"

"Yeah??"

"So you just forgot to mention how hot they are???" 

They did not expect this kind of reaction from him

He pays Dewey five bucks to sneak into your bag and see he can find out what body spray or lip gloss or cologne you use 

Dewey somehow manages to get in and out of your bag without you noticing

“What’s it called?” Francis asks, needing to satisfy the burning urge to know what you smell like up close

“Twilight… twilight something.” Dewey says, trying to remember. “I think it was… twilight sedation. Yeah, that’s it.” 

Francis looks over at you

“Twilight sedation…” he says dreamily

It’s twilight forest, but who’s counting

Francis needs to be around you as much as possible

Being home more than usual won’t be a problem, he thinks

He’s not responsible enough for Lois to let him watch his brothers unsupervised without utter chaos anyway, so it’s not like you’ll stop coming over

So now when you’re babysitting his brothers

When you’re making mac and cheese or helping them with their homework

He’ll find little moments to steal you away

Every time he fully intends to have a conversation with you 

Banter, build a rapport, get to know you better

And every time he ends up shamelessly coming onto you

And usually ends with him pinning you to a wall begging you to let him kiss you

Just once

Please, just once, just one time

And every time you manage to slip away and go back to what you were doing

Helping his brothers with video game levels and homework 

And every time, it leaves him wanting you more and more and more

You think he’s just messing with you at first

But you can’t deny the sincerity of his face and voice and body language

He’s burning for you

Aching for you

And it’s a little overwhelming to say the least

Especially with how out of the blue it is

You want to just have a normal conversation but always end up with him much closer to you than you expect

So you panic and slip away

And so begins the enticing game of cat and mouse between you that drives Francis even crazier for you than he thought was possible

Every time he promises himself he’ll play it cool, just be normal around you

And every time he ends up pinning you against the kitchen counter telling you what a good boyfriend he’ll be

Please just let him prove it

The logical part of your brain knows these should probably be red flags 

But a smaller part of you wants to see

The logical part of your brain also knows that you absolutely should not date the son of the woman you’re babysitting for 

Especially since (aside from Francis) this is the chillest cushiest babysitting job you’ve ever had

Lois was right, you’re exactly what her boys need

And since it’s impossible to get a babysitter, much less keep one, she’s paying you really well for this

So yeah

Dating her son would be a huge conflict of interest

You can’t

You absolutely cannot

But the one thing you failed to take into consideration is that you lowkey have horrible taste in men

So this thing building between you and Francis is really just a matter of time 

Then things are really going to get crazy

[writebackatya]

Do you think there should be justice for Alistair Boorswan?

#ReleaseTheBoorswanCut #ReleaseTheDeweyDuckCut

Oh Boorswan, I do legitimately feel bad for him but at the same time I find his situation hilarious. I loved him as a one-time character but he was someone who I would have loved to see return. Mainly because Edgar Wright (director of some of my favorite action comedies) was casted as him which for another layer of funny, was almost the director of Ant-Man but left the project since Disney didn’t want to make the movie he wanted to make. I always looked at this role and the whole episode as a giant middle finger to Disney for the way they treat their creative people

But back to Boorswan because I find him to be a fascinating character in his own right. Something that didn’t really occur to me till like my second or third time watching the episode is that Boorswan himself, is a Darkwing Duck fan and does have an understanding of the character

Mind you, my first watchthrough of the episode I had not watch a single episode of Darkwing Duck prior, it wasn’t till after I finished DuckTales 2017 I started to watch DT87 and DWD. (So if anyone tells you that people only like the Darkwing Duck episodes cause of nostalgia, tell those dummies they are wrong! Both episodes are phenomenal and don’t rely on nostalgia to carry their episodes)

Anyway, Boorswan’s take on Darkwing Duck as a sorta anti-hero while a bit edgy (he’s definitely a riff on Christopher Nolan but I also love to think there’s a bit of Zack Snyder in him too, he’s so pretentious!) isn’t too far off. In the original show, Darkwing Duck isn’t a beloved superhero at all. He has his fans for sure, but he’s mostly seen as a nuisance by the average St. Canard citizen.

But of course Darkwing Duck means well for the most part. He can be very egotistical in pretty much every episode. He has a lot of flaws. And honestly I have an understanding where Boorswan was coming from with his take

Something I would love to see explore if he were to return would be his relationship with Drake Mallard. Clearly Drake was not a fan of Boorswan’s vision and Alistair obviously saw something in Drake to cast him as the titular character in his overbudget movie.

It just makes me wonder how often Drake spoke up about some of Boorswan’s creative decisions as well as how Alistair responded to his star’s criticisms. Creating any form of art with multiple people can be difficult, heads are gonna butt since everyone has their own creative vision

I think it would be funny if Alistair Boorswan does not recognize Drake Mallard when he’s Darkwing Duck in St. Canard because that Darkwing Duck is nothing like the one he imagined for his movie

Also I love to think Alistair Boorswan blames Dewey and solely Dewey for his project getting cancelled. Just because I think it’d be funny if there was yet another adult that has beef with a preteen duck. Honestly, I think Alistair should be a sorta anti-hero to reflect his art. He lives in his own world and has a creative vision he wants to share and will do whatever it takes to make it happen. He’s kinda like Dewey when you think about it.

But the short answer, yes I do think he deserves some sort of justice. In fact, I’m working on a fic that I really need to continue working on right now where basically no one except him (and a few others) wants the Darkwing Duck movie to be made so instead he reworks his script into a Gizmoduck Movie

Someday I will finish it. Someday.

[queer-in-a-cornfield]

Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

[asouefanworkevent]

another fall is upon us! another woevember is coming!!

what is it?

woevember is an asoue fanwork event week, that will take place from november 12th through november 18th, 2023. last year there was a different group of characters each day, and this year, each day of the week is dedicated to a different location for a series of unfortunate events or all the wrong questions.

what do i do?

the prompts will be revealed now, so everyone has time to make something. between now and the week of november 12th, you’ll create fanworks about the prompts, and then post it on the corresponding day during november 12th - 18th!

don’t forget to tag this tumblr (asouefanworkevent) in the post so i can find it and reblog it, and tag the post with #woevember !

what do you mean by fanwork?

everything! fanfic and fanart are of course allowed, but woevember has always been meant to be an event that is as big or as little effort as you want! fanwork also means edits, gifs, analysis posts, headcanons!! your cosplay!! your photography!! your photosets!! your web weaving!! your super short fics!! your sketchiest drawings!! your most ramble-y half-fic idea posts!! your wip scenes!! you merely saying 'lemony snicket, though. am i right?????' (and you are. you're so right.) whatever you are moved to make from the prompts! i want people to be encouraged to and be able to create even something small that didn’t exist before for the snicketverse, and share it with other people!

are there any rules?

to keep the event open and comfortable for everyone, no explicit content. also, as always, sibling romance and age gaps will not be tolerated.

do i have to make something for every day?

only if you want to! feel free to just make something for one day if you want :) the point of having a different theme for each day is so some part of canon that you like comes up eventually, and you can at least make something for one of the days. or you get struck by an idea you might not have considered before! i want to get people thinking about all the intriguing people and places in asoue and atwq and the exciting different ways we can interpret and create from the same idea.

what are the prompts?

the description under each prompt is just some ideas to get your brain going -- feel free to take them in another direction too!

november 12th - olaf's mansion

to celebrate the 24th anniversary of the bad beginning! what becomes of the house post-canon? was it olaf's family home? what sort of nefarious, or, perhaps, completely innocent shenanigans have occurred here, pre-canon? does this house also have a secret passage somewhere?

november 13th - the baudelaire mansion

did beatrice and bertrand build the mansion? what sweet pre-canon moments have we missed with the baudelaire children and their parents? what visitors came there? do people still think the mansion remains are haunted post-canon? what sort of new home do the baudelaires make for themselves when they return to the city?

november 14th - the clusterous forest

the wild and lawless place. what was it before the water was removed? what sort of beach or shore was there? where did the water go? does it ever come back? what does lemony, or anyone else, find in there? does another train ever come through after the thistle of the valley? do the stain'd-by-the-sea crew ever go in to investigate it? what sort of rumors might be created about a place like the clusterous forest?

november 15th - the hotel denouement

the last safe place! is it vfd-owned, or denouement-owned? what happens down in the archives? are the archives ever found? what sort of firefighter or firestarter meetings have taken place here? what relationship might they have with the preludio hotel? what were the denouements up to at the hotel? what hotel, or what sort of home in general, might frank and ernest create for themselves post-canon, with dewey's absence?

november 16th - the masked ball

the duchess of winnipeg's masked balls have so much potential! what happened at that last one, where lemony tried to contact beatrice? when was that? what happened at past balls? what is the duchess's relationship with the parties? (whether the duchess is jacquelyn or r or jacquelyn is r's daughter is up to you, dear reader!) what costumes do they all pick! or is there even a different masked ball you might have in mind?

november 17th - the reptile room

to also celebrate the 24th anniversary of the reptile room! what becomes of this house post-canon? how did monty come to own the reptile room, where does his herpetology career fit into vfd? why was the quagmire mansion connected to it? how did jacques get there and find quigley? what other moments with the baudelaire children in the reptile room might we have missed -- or pre-canon moments with the baudelaire parents? do not forget about our beloved, the incredibly deadly viper!

november 18th - free space!

there's tons of other locations, too! prufrock prep, heimlich hospital, 667 dark avenue, paltryville, caligari carnival, the city, the punctilio, veblen hall, the orion observatory, the opera, the sewers, the hemlock tearoom and stationery shop, the museum of items, the museum of bad breakfast, the snicket mansion, the quagmire mansion, the island, the mortmain mountains, lucky smells lumbermill, wade academy, killdeer fields, anwhistle aquatics, the queequeg? or do you care not for locations! use the free space to write about the character or relationship or thought of your choosing!

if you have any questions about anything, feel free to drop me an ask or a message!

happy creating, and i hope to see lots of you november 12th-18th!! ✨