#before i go and write more stuff on victorian death practices

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Historical AUs!

We have 26 incredible fics submitted to this list, stretching from the fifth century up to the 1990s. We have stories that fit into just over 2,000 words, and others that are more than 200,000! This list includes one LiLo fic, and we also have our first ever non-English rec, with a French language fic -- truly the language of love.

To all my fellow history lovers, it's time to go apeshit. Read, reblog, comment, kudos, bookmark, tell your friends, all that jazz -- your local fanfic writer appreciates it!

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds (88649, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Violence, bullying, homophobia, slurs

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Reccer says: The beautifully chosen words, the captivating story, the queer joy!!!

Unrequited by babyhoneyhslt (144000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Omega Prince Harry is send to France to marry Prince Louis, but instead of the nice boy he knew when they were children, he is met with a cold and distant husband and no idea as to why.

Reccer says: It was so interesting to follow along with this and try to figure out why Louis was behaving this way. And then later see them fall in love. Really liked it and can't recommend it enough.

Danger I can’t hide by CelticSky (227290, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: War, homophobia

Flying Officer Styles and Sergeant Tomlinson would have likely never crossed paths in a time of peace, their lives laid out neatly, predictably before them. But then the world became unrecognisable. Too soon they grew accustomed to fear, surrounded by death and destruction, not even their freedom a certainty any more. Until they found each other. Comfort. Companionship. Understanding. Another person to lose.

Reccer says: It's one of those fics that I'd describe as monumental, masterful, epic. In my opinion, it should be made into a film, and brought to everyone's attention. The script is brilliant and relentless. The characters are subtle and nuanced. The writing is exemplary. A masterpiece.

Secrets in Winter by softfonds (82582, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

Reccer says: I loved the plot and the character development of the main pairing.

A cycle of recycled revenge by Brokenbeaks (103302, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Foxburgh, England, 1983. In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it. Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

Reccer says: Absolutely excellent. I was a bit worried about how Harry's blindness would be handled, but it was done wonderfully. Perfect fic. Perfect writing. Perfect plot.

Through Lonely Streets and Neon Lights by Sweetly_disposed (25107, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

Reccer says:

Chasing empty spaces by Lis (Domesticharry) (79028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Reccer says: This fic is simply magnificent. A must read

An invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon (44627, Explicit, Harry Styles Louis Tomlinson)

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

Reccer says:

Box of Rain by Indierection (amandamoraisa) (26631, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1970 AU, Louis is a boxer and Harry a ring boy

Reccer says: The era is well transcribed (the way of life, the music), and the story is very charming.

Cela aussi passera (French-language fic) by Hazzunah (110721, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1993: Louis is 16. It's summertime, by a lake in France. He meets Harry. 1999: Louis is in Japan; he hasn't seen Harry for 6 years, since that fateful summer. He thought he'd lost him forever.

Reccer says: For years, I've been reading only in English, but there's still the odd French fic that I come across that's really good. "This too shall pass" is one of them. It's set in the 90s, it's beautifully written, it's moving, and the characters are well characterized. For me, it's a gem. So I recommend it. For anyone who can read in French.

You Make The World Taste Better by LiveLaughLoveLarry/loveislarryislove (10000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Harassment and threats from the rival baker, culminating in physical violence and a grisly end in keeping with the fairy tale

A twist on Hansel and Gretel as a rivalry between bakers, based on Hans Traxler’s fictional non-fictional text "The Truth About Hansel and Gretel"

Reccer says: This fic is such a wild adaptation of a story almost everyone knows, capturing both the sweet (literally, since Harry is a baker haha) elements and also the darkness of the tale.

No One Like You by myownspark (20000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were noted painters in the 19th century. Louis was a Neoclassicist, Harry a Romantic -- totally different, nothing in common, no connection. But centuries later, art historians Niall and Liam find something that suggests perhaps the two were more intertwined than people think.

Reccer says: I love the parallel timelines, watching Louis and Harry's relationship develop and fracture and heal at the same time as watching Niall and Liam discover things. We see pieces of history they're trying to puzzle together, and then we see the history as it happened, what it really was and what it meant to them.

Bloom by LadyAJ_13 (28909, Teen, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Non-graphic violence, period-typical attitudes

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

Reccer says: This was an incredible, atmospheric, moody historical mystery fic. Topped off with a lovely, happy ending that had me tearing up.

Under Electric Candlelight by littleroverlouis (5051, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

In the 1970s, small town veterinarian Louis moves to NYC and meets a beauty at the bar named H who sometimes goes by Lola.

Reccer says: So immersive you feel like you're in 1970s Manhattan. The characters are truly electric and lovely.

this is my jam by disgruntledkittenface (4513, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

Reccer says: This story is so much more than it first appears. I could feel the atmosphere and the emotion of the moment of the characters finding a freedom that didn't exist for them outside of the bathhouse's walls. It's an absolutely beautiful (and hot) exploration of such a specific time and place. So layered and thoughtful and hopeful and real.

After Dark, After Light by QuickedWeen (71440, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Kidnapping, battlefield

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses. As the winter draws nearer by the day, the two are thrown together to prepare for the invasion that they expect as soon as the ground thaws.

Reccer says: This fic just sweeps you away to the Scottish Highlands! Such a fun historical romance!

the sanctity of patience by scrunchyharry (22521, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for.

Reccer says: The writing is gorgeous and immersive. The characters are so vivid and I loved the way their journey to love played out.

Ace of Spades by allwaswell16 (78000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: depictions of violence, drug use

Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

Reccer says: Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. The plot twists! The suspense! The intrigue!

Adore You by Isthatyoularry (66979, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Arrange marriage AU, Harry initially hates Louis and their arrangement but goes along with it for the summer. Louis is perfect for him tho, as much as harry hates to admit it. They last.

Reccer says: The word building. Stubborn harry. Pining louis. Catching feelings. Hate to love.

We Can Find a Place to Feel Good by yeah_alright/uhoh-but-yeah-alright (8000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

1960s AU inspired by Treat People With Kindness. Harry attends school dances over the years, meeting Louis and learning more about himself and what he loves.

Reccer says: Just so completely sweet and hopeful! Captures the vibe of the song so well!

The Garden Part 1 by Throwthemflowers/hazzabeeforlou (13000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Major character death, war

Biblical AU - 5th Century. A prince (Louis) falls in love with his father’s musician (Harry) in the midst of war.

Reccer says: This story is so hard to describe (it's Part 1 of a truly incredible 3-part series) but it's intense and brilliant and epic. The love here is all consuming and it comes through in the writing. Completely unique.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by fairytalefemme (25896, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: internalized homophobia

40s/50s AU. Harry leaves his bride-to-be at the altar, runs away from his life, and finds a kind farmer who lets him stay.

Reccer says: Such a sweet, tender exploration of love and self.

With Words Unspoken by jacaranda_bloom (18000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Older Louis and Harry. 50ish Louis returns to a cabin he'd visited many years before and it's a hippie commune type place where he finds Harry.

Reccer says: It just made me SO HAPPY. Peaceful and lovely.

1957: here to take my medicine by zita17/louisandtheaquarian (2652, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading.

Reccer says: Literally transports you to this particular time and place. And so so hot.

The murmur of yearning by Mediawhore (93300, Mature, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Rape/non-con attempts, death of character, slurs etc

Harry upon the death of his husband he was forced to marry find companionship and support in the arms of Land steward mr. tomlinson. Together they try to prove harry didnt murder his husband.

Reccer says: Regency era. Dark academia. Mystery and suspense. Forbidden love trope. The angst and mutual pining. Harry in corsets!

Love you in the dark by Perzikze (9225, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Dubious consent i think, loss of virginity

Story of a historical wedding night. Innocent Harry has no idea what goes down during the wedding night; Louis eases him through it.

Reccer says: Innocent harry. Supportive Louis. It's adorable and sexy at once!

Stay tuned for the next list theme! It's similar... but different... ;)

[zabala0z]

Oh my god. Okay hi. Welcome back to “New TMA listens to season 2” and guys holy shit I’m freaking out. I just listened to The New Door. So much is happening in 3 episodes and I gotta write it down oh my god. Guys. Guys.

MAG 44: tightrope

Gertrude Robinson!!!! She sounds so nice. Didn’t even realize there was a mention of this circus before until Jon said it. Gotta up my game. The guy who played the steam organ, Nikolai Deniken, was featured in Strange Music. Or his granddaughter was. I looked over the transcripts again; Gertrude mentioned that Deniken leaving in the 70’s made the circus tamer. Makes me wonder if the steam organ is essential for the circus . Also the circus of the other is such a metal name for a circus like okay damn.

I’m thinking the circus is gonna pop up again. New main villain??? Maybe??? Or maybe that cult that hadn’t appeared for a bit.

MAG 45: blood bag

Ewewew. It’s literally summer, the definition of mosquito season, why did I go through with this episode, I’m literally gagging. Anyways. Not many notes but the antiques dealer who bought that Victorian syringe off of Thompson is also from Lost and Found (MAG 38) and Piecemeal (MAG 14). Like all bro did was buy it and shit went off the rails. Wonder if he’s like cursed or something. Also small note for piecemeal: the guy who made the statement said after Mikaela Salesa left, Noriega was missing teeth, an eye and fingers. He may have had them before Salesa came but who knows. Salesa seems suspicious.

Also the description of the mosquitoes. Like. Eugh.

MAG 46: literary heights

Yooo Michael crew! He appeared in Pageturner as the childhood best friend who got his shit rocked by the lightning. He also apparently appeared in a boneturners tale when he returned a book. He seems like a book nerd now after his near death experience. That lightning figure that was chasing him at the end sounded like it was from the book but another thing: Michael was chanting that shit before y’know jumping out the window but he mentioned “The Vast”. I already vaguely know that name, along with a couple others. Like the fear entities or whatever?? I knew them before going in because Im into Hatchetfield and the lords in black got compared to them a couple times so I guess i didn’t go into this fully blind. More like 94% blind. I’m guessing The Vast is important though. We’ll see.

Finally the one I’m still freaking out over: MAG 47

Holy shit. If anyone saw my abrupt post, congrats. Anyone who didn’t: OH MY GOD MICHAEL APPEARANCE. The voice was so creepy, genuinely I’m freaked out. The whole premise of the episode was scary to me just because one of my fears generally is just being alone and having no one and just being lost so obviously, yeah. But also..god. Starting to doubt my assumption on how morally correct Michael.

Also SASHA. FAKE SASHA. She sounds completely different, thought it was fun they changed voice actors for this. I think fake Sasha has been rifling through Jons stuff. He’s been mentioning that someone has been going down in the tunnels and I think it’s fake Sasha.

Not many notes, I’m just freaking out. Couple things though: Michael said to Jon “do you even know they’re lying to you?”

Now they could either refer to fake Sasha as some gender neutral term since whatever replaced her is definitely not human and maybe doesn’t have a gender but I think more likely it’s referring to multiple people. Thing is, it could be anyone. I’m still suspicious about Elias, like he seems to know something no one does, jon had his rant about Tim and how Tim was here for practically no reason which is true and Martin is chill, I trust Martin. If Martin ends up like killing someone, I will die.

Just god. Michael is so creepy. It makes me wonder about its “domain”. It said it came to collect what is “mine.” The one who entered its domain. Is it like some underworld shit where you go in, you can’t come out? “The wanderer had a brief respite but it’s over now” like that’s just cruel.

Like I screamed when Michael said “did you notice which door she left through?” Like I full on got chills. Also “I am not a who, I’m a what, yada, yada” Okay pop off but you just stabbed a man wtf.

I have seen that infamous Michael line before in like fanart but god nothing compares to hearing the words actually coming from my phone while lying in bed when it’s pitch black outside. Props to the voice actor. Also that buzzing noise that happens in the background of fake Sasha and Michael disappearing when they leave? God it’s beautiful.

Anyways. Uh. Sorry for the long post but you guys gotta understand, I am literally going insane, I love this podcast so much. I got I think like 17 pages of notes/details from episodes to keep in mind like genuinely I am so invested. It like invigorates me. Fully.

Anyways, my only takeaway is bring back Sasha and Michael is terrifying

[thanatoseyes]

My paired down list of spirit work and death magic. (Obviously this is what works for me and I'm kind of a picky person when I aquire written work)

Physical Media:

Cunning Words: A Grimoire of Tales and Magic by Marshall WSL (This one I pre-ordered and haven't gotten through the whole text but it's a good read. It incorporates the art of story telling with distinct spells and magic. I think it's very unique but I wouldn't recommend it unless you want something with flavor)

Riding the Bones by the three little sisters (this one is an anthology of particular practices from different walks of life pertaining to death and transition. I've only read a few of the stories but for what it's worth I think its good insight)

Botanical Curses and Poisons by Fez Inkwright (I only list this because it's always good to know what's good and bad for you. Know what can kill you and you can probably avoid it)

The Bones Fall in A Spiral by Mortellus (again I've mentioned this before but I think this is a good work for someone getting into the field and needs someone that's direct and experienced in what they do. One of my favorites.

Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller (I feel like this is a staple of the craft and while I personally don't connect with the material it works and it has some good points)

Metamorphosis by Ovid (I think it's always necessary to deal with primary texts. Go with the classics. Ovid has a beautiful way of writing and you get to really understand the stories and myths that spirits of the dead living etc are connected to and if you do any deity work I highly recommend it.)

Of Blood and Bone by Kate Freuler (I have mixed views on this one. some of the stuff is informative and it provides some good spells, but it lacks transparency and depth. I find Mortellus book far more student minded.)

The complete language of flowers by S. Theresa Dietz (if you work with the dead, deities, spirits or hey plant spirits. Chances are you've come across Victorian flower language. I use this book as a reference guide for symbolism/folklore/ and as a way to connecting with spirits)

Encyclopedia of Spirits by Judika Illes (hey no library is complete without an encyclopedia. I personally like this one because it's very indepth without being too overwhelming. Not sure where to go? Just pick up this book and you can do more indepth research later. It's what it's there for. Reference guides are one of my favorites.)

Okay that's it for my physical media.

I also have a list of digital copies I keep.

Morbid Magic by Tomàs Prower (I think if you buy any book from this collection buy this one. It gives you an over all guide of most death practices around the world)

Historical:

Death, Dissection and the Destitute by Ruth Richardson

The Work of the Dead by Thomas W. Laqueur.

(I list these because they are a good source guide to how we treated the dead and spirits in the past. It's always important we learn from those that came before us.)

Greek Customs: (if you're going to do any type of work with Greek chthonic deities I suggest these three articles/books. I'm not saying its mandatory but these are very helpful guides to understanding ancient thought and how to bring them into today.)

Burial Customs, The Afterlife and the Pollution of Death in ancient Greece by Francois Pieter Retief and Louise Cilliers (free on research gate)

Underworld Gods in Ancient Greek Religion Death and Reciprocity by Ellie Mackin Roberts

Inner Purity and Pollution in Greek Religion Volume 1 by Andrej Petrovic and Ivana Petrovic (this one's my personal favorite)

[acemapleeh]

how about some more stuff about the fae?

Always happy to appease the Fair Folk

Summary: A newly acquired colony was now under Arthur’s care. In the month he’s been residing with him in the former French colony, little progress had been made in having the child open up to him. Perhaps some midnight stories of fairies and folklore might bring them a little closer together.

Characters: England, Canada

Word Count: 3265

il était une fois

Montreal, Quebec, Late Summer of 1763

Arthur rubbed at his eyes as he sat back in the wingback that was nowhere near as comfortable as his own back home or even the one in Massachusetts. The fire was still warm as it crackled in its hearth and the rum he brought to his lips was just as sweet and bitter. He hoped his business here could be finished soon. He had finished peace negotiations in Europe months ago, his pride swelling as his empire began to rise above those around him. Come victory came the spoils, including a little boy who was once under Francis’s “care.” Arthur had seen him, no, seen wasn’t the correct word. He caught glimpses of him in the trees and grass, occasionally clinging to Francis’s coattails. The first real look Arthur got of the lad was when he had stood in front of his crumpled guardian.

A boy.

One who didn’t even stand to Arthur’s hip with eyes full of tears stood arms raised to protect a man who barely gave him second thoughts.

He didn’t even know how to respond, the gun that was still raised and aimed slowly lowered in confusion.

The boy’s cheeks were puffed out in an attempt to look strong, that not even the Arctic winds could knock him down. He didn’t utter a single word but Arthur knew he had every intention of protecting the man bleeding behind him.

Arthur had yet to hear a single word from the small child. Even upon proper introductions and taking him under his care, the child would only look at Arthur with icy blue eyes. 

It felt as though no real progress had been made in the month Arthur had been residing in the former French colony. At first, he was simply worried the stupid frog hadn’t taught the boy English but it was clear he understood when Arthur or the housekeeper spoke to him. He had even tried speaking to him in French to try to warrant a response but even that approach proved fruitless.

Matthieu, he knew his name was though he quickly corrected it to Matthew, seemed to be perfectly content wandering the house and garden in silence, staring out into the woods through the cracks in the fence. 

Arthur had asked the few fairies who had followed him and his people across the ocean to watch over him. Reports came to his study at the end of the day. Matthew’s behavior was never anything concerning. He played in the garden, napped wherever he felt most comfortable, attended his lessons, and once had organized the bookshelf in the parlor. He joined Mrs. Cooper in the kitchen and followed her around the house as she cleaned, mimicking her actions in trying to dust or sweep. At this point, Arthur couldn’t even tell if the boy saw the flower fairies or simply ignored them as they tried to play with him outside. What sort of stories Francis had put in Matthew’s head of wolves and devils eating children and hobgoblins playing mean tricks in the middle of the night, he didn’t want to know. The man had his own folklore and legends as they all did; fées they were called, Margot la fée was uttered in Central Brittany. They, like his own, were ancient and beautiful beings. Some had teeth as long as their hand, while others donned marine plants, mussels, or periwinkle shells along their back. Some said they were a cursed being, condemned on Earth for staying neutral during the angels’ rebellion: these half-fallen angels became faeries.

Arthur hadn’t heard Francis speak of them in many years.

“The faeries have been gone since we first sounded the Angelus and sung the Credo,” Francis had sighed over a shared bottle of wine one starless night so very long ago that Arthur couldn’t remember the date. “But as time moves on, the Church will diminish, we will no longer sing the symbol of faith, we will no longer ring the bell and interrupt our daily, earthly routines and turn to thoughts of God, of the Blessed Mother, and of eternity. Then, the faeries will return.”

He had read the literature from France from the past century, retelling old folktales was currently quite popular, especially in the court of Louis XIV, though not all the works from Madame d’Aulnoy were what Arthur would call suitable for children. Perhaps in a desperate attempt to try to connect with Matthew, Arthur had bought a copy of Charles Perrault’s ‘Tales of Mother Goose’. 

Night after night, the routine seemed to be the same. Arthur would be in his study until Matthew stood next to his desk and waited patiently for Arthur to notice he was there (which, ranged anywhere from five to thirty minutes). The child would lead the way to the nursery, climb up the little steps leading to the bed and Arthur would tuck him under the blankets. The book would be handed over, Matthew selected the story he wanted to hear and Arthur would read until the lad was fast asleep. 

Even though it was their routine, he still found the whole thing quite odd. He was used to Alfred who would come barging into his study when he spent far too many hours at his desk, demanding to be picked up and put to bed. Arthur would always oblige and there would be times work had to be finished. Alfred would climb into Arthur’s lap and wait, not so patiently, for his father to finish the last bit of paperwork. He would drag Arthur by the shirt to the nursery until he was picked up properly and put to bed by Arthur’s hand. The two would fuss on making sure Alfred’s face was washed and his bedtime prayers were said properly and unrushed before storytime could begin. He laughed at the tales, trying so hard to stay awake to hear the end by making sure he could see the pages of the book and read out loud himself. Without fail, as they approached the final page Alfred’s eyes would grow heavy and he would fall asleep with his head against Arthur’s chest.

On some nights, Arthur would return to work before heading to bed himself. Before he did, he would check on Alfred once more for the night only to find the boy jumping on his bed and climbing over furniture pretending to be the brave Sir Lancelot or the heroic Robin Hood, swinging about the little wood sword Arthur had crafted for him.

Matthew would lay his head against the pillow, staring at Arthur as he read on. French or English, it didn’t seem to make a difference. 

He had read every story the book contained at least three times in each language and he was now worried the boy would get bored. Arthur attempted the other night to bring a new book into the nighttime routine. Matthew sat upright against the cushions, thumbing through the new piece of literature with quiet content. Like always, he selected a story that piqued his interest and slid the book across the duvet to Arthur's hands.

He fell asleep soundlessly and when Arthur checked on him for a second time in the night, Matthew would be facing away from the doorway exactly where he was left. He could recall perhaps a single time he found the boy sitting on the bench by the window, staring out into the night with the glossy beads of a rosary reflecting under the moonlight between the gaps of his fingers.

Francis had given Matthew a fully French and useless name full of Saints to try to bless him with good fortune, not unlike his own. Arthur often scoffed at how good that did him and couldn’t help but think the child would befall the same fate.

Arthur longed for his own days of youth where sleep came so easy. Most nights he sat awake, reading, drinking, writing, whatever was quickest to make his eyes grow tired. Thinking on it, even as a child he was always a light sleeper. Even in the company of his brothers and sister, his ears were alert for any threat that dared creep by. He almost couldn't remember a time bags didn't grace the underside of his eyes. 

Perhaps the boy really was his son.

Another sip of drink that went down quite nicely. The chair was actually starting to feel comfortable now and he let a quiet sigh of content.

In the space between the crackling of firewood, there came the sound of the stair that never settled. Arthur set his glass down and peaked past the back of the armchair. Mrs. Cooper had already gone to bed for the night surely. Even she wouldn't chastise Arthur this late to head to bed.

He watched the open archway, about to call out for whomever to come forward when Matthew's small form stepped into the faintest of the hearth's glow. The poor thing looked like he hadn't any real sleep since Arthur laid him down a few hours ago. There were tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes were puffy, one sleeve covered hand rubbing away proof of despair. 

“Matthew? My dear boy what on earth are you doing awake at this hour?” he slowly rose from his seat, crossed the room, and knelt at eye level to the young child. “How long were you waiting to come get me?” It was a habit he noted a while ago. There were times Arthur would forget to not only feed himself but even Matthew would be out in the garden or playing upstairs a little too long past teatime. It wouldn’t be for another hour or two for the lad to remind his guardian he needed to be fed. Worse were the days he would go from sunrise to sundown without reminding anyone he hadn’t been given any amount of attention. 

Arthur didn’t expect a verbal response but waited patiently as the child grabbed at the fabric of his nightgown, wrinkling the material as he pulled and twisted his hands about. He looked like he was trying hard not to burst into tears again. Silently, Arthur opened his arms and he was surprised at how quickly Matthew threw himself into his chest. He could feel wet patches forming on his shirt as the small fists bunched his waistcoat. The sobs were muffled as Arthur hoisted him in his arms, holding him securely as he stood upright.

Two extremes, he thought to himself. Tears that were quietly staining his shirt that had been delayed for God knows how many hours versus the wails and screams that shook the night the second something was amiss. Arthur had learned how to deal with the latter, the years and resources he put into Alfred’s well-being he thought were enough experience to deal with a second child.

Now he found himself pacing about the parlor, hushing a child who even though was the one who stepped into his hold, still felt stiff and uncomfortable. 

“Are you feeling alright Matthew? Do you feel ill?” he finally asked. He hadn’t felt a fever or noticed any rashes on the child’s cheeks.

Curls bounced softly as Matthew shook his head, face still hidden away.

“A bad dream perchance?”

There was a pause as Matthew’s grip tightened.

Arthur thought back to earlier that day, how tired the lad looked at breakfast and even still after he took an afternoon nap. Just how long has he been having trouble sleeping? He felt guilty for not picking up on it sooner though Matthew was hardly speaking up regarding his own well-being. He only sighed. Feeling bad about previous misjudgment wasn’t going to solve any current problems. 

“Let’s have some fresh air shall we?” In the back of his mind, a memory was faint but held dearly of his mother who would do the same for him upon awakening in the middle of the night from fright. His siblings attempted the same when she was gone and he would always find himself straying into his garden during the witching hour to try to freshen his mind. Even in the middle of winter, he would bundle Alfred and himself and breath in the crisp night air after a troublesome bought of night terrors.

Not sensing any objections, he carried Matthew outside through the backdoor. Past the planted rose bushes and the garden gate was the unknown. Almost instantly upon setting his foot past the threshold of home and onto the foliage and earth of the forest, he felt Matthew relax. The tight bundle of nerves he was holding loosened and his face finally tore away from the fine wool of his waistcoat.

Arthur could hear the chimes of the fae, a familiar and calming sound.

“Feu follet.”

The voice was so quiet Arthur wasn’t sure he heard it at first but he saw the boy pointing forward, past the line of the trees where he knew the St. Lawrence River flowed. There were the floating sprites resembling the like of fireflies, lights that Arthur had always called will-o’-the-wisps. Spirits of the dead that could either lead you home or to your own death.

Caught staring, Arthur had nearly tripped over something that had scurried past his feet.

Then... laughter. A quiet one just below his ear. It was sweet and warm. A sound Arthur didn’t even think Matthew was capable of making. ‘Lord, that’s a depressing thought.’

Just a few yards in front of them was a little white dog, one that resembled a snowbank or white cloud that almost seemed to glow in the night. The way Matthew was looking at it was almost as if the pair were already acquainted. He babbled something in French, something that sounded like he was scolding the creature in the way a child would. Not very earnestly as he continued to laugh.

The dog ran forward into the bushes, reemerging a short distance as an equally white, fluffy cat who stared at the pair. Matthew was squirming in Arthur’s hold now and he let the child down. He had never seen Matthew display such energy before, one that was nearly akin to the kind Alfred displayed on a daily basis. He ran towards the cat and Arthur followed in suit, quietly noting the fairies dancing along the dirt path. They didn’t seem to be bothered by the presence of this being so neither would he.

They continued down the path, the white being darting in and out of the greenery, changing shape each time and amusing Matthew with each transformation. Arthur scratched his brain for any stories Francis shared with him for an answer but none were coming to mind. As they approached the banks of the river, Arthur knelt beside the pair, where the creature had now taken the form of a white bear cub the same size as the child was.

“Is this a friend of yours Matthew?” he asked, kneeling beside them. “Could you introduce me?”

Matthew was quiet for a long moment, the bear gnawing on his golden locks and licking his cheeks affectionately as he thought.

“C'est un lutin.” he answered simply.

“Un lutin?” Arthur repeated, he ignored how his questions weren’t entirely answered. The name he’d heard before. It was akin to the brownies, gnomes, and elves back home but had looked nothing like the creatures he was familiar with that shared the name. “Are you quite certain lad?”

He nodded, running a small hand through the fur in a calming manner. “He doesn’t like the salt you put by the gate.”

Arthur made a quiet noise in his throat. It was a safety precaution he always did. He wasn’t familiar with these woods or the creatures inside it. How was he to know Matthew had befriended anything that resided among the trees? He bit his lip and clicked his tongue in thought. This was the first time he had seen Matthew genuinely happy since he met him and the lad seldom asked for the basics let alone things that brought him joy. He sensed no evil from the creature nor did any of the other fae voice concerns of it. 

Gently, he placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should clean that up, hm? As long as he behaves, he can stay with us. I expect no pebbles in my shoes or the ax dulled, am I understood? You are to be responsible for taking care of his well-being and making sure he doesn’t interfere with my work.”

Matthew was nodding so eagerly to where Arthur feared the boy would give himself a headache. He was on his feet and practically bolting back to the house in a matter of seconds, calling for Arthur to hurry. He couldn’t help but grin, cheeks almost hurting from the joy that had sparked in his chest. He had come into the woods prepared to tell Matthew stories, to sing about the stars and trees the same way his kin had always done. Perhaps the woods comforted the lad just the same as they did for Arthur.

‘Progress at last.’

Upon arriving home, Arthur set work to moving the salt scattered earth about the tip of his shoe, trying to bring in clean earth instead. For good measure, he took a ladle full of water from the well to dissolve whatever concentrated salt piles were left. “There we are, that should do just fine. Come inside both of you. Matthew, I have to clean you up before putting you back to bed.”

Carefully and silently, they crossed into the garden and into the home, the little bear obediently at Matthew’s side even as Arthur brought out a damp cloth to wipe his bare feet clean of dirt, dead leaves, and twigs. As they ascended the stairs, Arthur suggested names for the being, all of which resulted in Matthew making faces of displeasure.

“I think Humbert is a perfectly good name. No? Picky are we?”

“He says that name isn’t very good.”

“Did he now? Suppose we’ll just have to keep trying in the morning.”

Back in bed, Matthew lay, comfortably under homemade quilts and his new companion seemed to have no intentions of leaving anytime soon. It comforted him, knowing the boy would be looked out for even during times Arthur would be unable to. As the child’s breaths slowed to something relaxed, Arthur dared to lean forward to kiss his crown good night.

Not a stir.

Arthur slept well that night, feeling actually rested at breakfast.

Matthew had joined him downstairs and Arthur actually heard the boy running down the steps. His hair was a disaster, all knots, and tangles but the child was babbling in rapid French about his dreams and the fairies that had surprised him when he woke up that morning.

His eyes were as bright as gleaming icebergs during the midnight sun.

“Blessed with fairy-locks have you?” Arthur asked as he helped Matthew sit at the table where warm porridge sat waiting for him. “A lucky lad you are, they’ve taken a liking to you. It’s bad luck to untangle them right away. Best leave it be for a few hours.”

As Arthur worked away in his study that day, he left the door open a crack so he could listen to Matthew play throughout the house. The laughter would put a smile on his face, but a part of his heart ached for his other son.

Hopefully soon, the two could meet and thrive under Arthur's roof together.

[bigteefsmallbrain]

General Soul Eater HCs please

Soul Eater: General headcanons

Death the Kid:

He’s an art critic

Hear me out

He is obsessed with symmetry, and loves the beauty in it

So when he sees something non-symmetrical, especially in art, he can’t help but to critique it

May go as far as to send a personal letter to the artist (If they’re alive) about how offensive it is that they created something so asymmetrical

If he can’t send a letter to the artist, he’ll send one to the owner/museum and request it be taken down, while listing reasons why it’s horrible.

Anything he writes has an even amount of letters and words

Be that his test answers

Essays

Letters

Diary entry

Speaking of diary entries, he definitely has one

But it’s actually just a catalogue of symmetrical things he’s seen

He puts photos into it and writes about how beautiful it was to see

He doesn’t care what it is much, just that it was beautiful

Meaning he takes photos of people too

Which can be unnerving at times

He’s probably taken a photography class before, or at the very least is self taught

Literally has a photo album of things he views are beautiful, but non symmetrical and he would die if anyone found it

Like a particular sunset with uneven hills

Or a flower with one too many petals

Definitely has an 8 ball, not a magic one, just an 8 ball, it’s placed on a velvet pillow in his room and he frequently polishes it

Elizabeth Thompson:

Makes several backup plans as a way to cope

Especially after dealing with an experience with a ghost

She has notebooks full of them, labeled and detailed

At one point she started putting them in alphabetical order but stopped immediately when she realized Kid’s perfectionist habits were rubbing off on her

She practices acting in the mirror

Usually so she can charm a man into dating her

But also to con people

She used to be a “Street rat” and that thought of ending up on the streets again constantly plagues her mind

She takes full advantage of the “Rich life”

Shopping sprees

Quality makeup

Salons and spa days

The works

She lets Patty’s thought that she knows everything get to her head

The fact alone that her sister believes in her that much is enough to make her a bit egotistical

And Patty’s admiration for the girl makes it ten times worse

She literally doesn’t care if she ends up being wrong because she’ll just be right next time anyways

So stubborn in that aspect

Patricia Thompson:

She likes dark humor

You can’t convince me otherwise, you actually can’t, I have evidence

She made an origami Giraffe, and broke its neck

Laughed when Kid said he “wants to die”

She literally pokes him with a stick when he’s depressed

She likes dark humor, and probably looks up jokes to tell others just for kicks

She’s secretly sadistic, and likes scaring her sister and others

She may act naïve and innocent, but she is anything but

She definitely has, more than once, banged on Liz’s door at 3AM just to hear her sister squeal like a little girl

Honestly, she probably purposefully gets their pose wrong, just to see her sisters annoyance and laugh when Kid gets smacked

She likes origami

Probably first got into it because of the paper ninja stars

Then just found it relaxing

She most likely makes the ninja stars mostly, and keeps a box of her origami creations somewhere

Has in the past, and will not hesitate to do so again, beat someone up for kicks or just to destress

Patty has two faces, the childlike innocent one, and the insane anger one

So it’s not too far fetched to say that she’ll hide her anger till she can corner someone alone and beat them up

Or that she gets bored and decides to do so

I wouldn’t be too surprised if her sister occasionally joined as well

Maka Albarn:

She’s a Harry Potter nerd and you can’t convince me otherwise

She loves the concept of magic

Loves the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, though feels a bit of Deja vu thinking about it

Probably used to write fanfiction, but in a way that made it seem like it was actually part of the story

She will hit you if you mention it

Definitely the type to compare books to their movie counterparts

Not in like, a critic way, but she will definitely rant about the differences, or how a character looks exactly like she imagined, or if they didn’t put in a particular scene she liked in the book

Forces Soul into movie nights, but it’s only the movie counterparts to her books

I can see her forcing everyone into a group study session

Be super organized about it, and setting it up in a way so that no one can refuse

She probably has specific ways for everyone to study

Like having Black☆Star work out while studying so he retains the knowledge better

Or setting up the session in a symmetrical way so Kid doesn’t freak out about it

She writes letters to her mom, as a coping mechanism for when her emotions get to be a little too much

Like when she’s having a bad day

Or if she’s particularly peeved at something Soul did

She writes a lot more letters when it comes around the time of her mom's birthday or death anniversary

She likes the thought of an old timey romance, and often listens to songs that give off that kind of feel

She really likes “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, it’s one of her favorites

She also likes the old Disney songs, like “Once Upon a Dream” and “So This Is Love”

She would be so embarrassed if anyone found out though, especially if it was her dad or Soul

She isn’t quite sure why she’s so worried about Soul finding out though

Speaking of, she half realizes, half doesn’t with anyone's romantic feelings, including her own

She’ll fantasize about getting a love letter or having someone present her with a bouquet of roses

But if it actually happens she’s like “Oh, thanks friend!”

She knows the behaviors, she just can’t put two and two together

They would have to be extremely blunt, no over dramatic confession, just “I’m in love with you and want to be romantically involved with you”

She reads dictionaries for fun

She really likes to read out of date dictionaries, just to see what words and slang existed back then

She also highlights words she likes and uses them frequently on accident

She has most definitely yelled “I have cupid’s kettlebells*! I’m not flat!” at Soul before

Soul Evans:

Bottles. Up. His. Emotions.

He’s influenced by “toxic masculinity” and fully believes that being vulnerable in a serious way “isn’t cool”

He will bottle everything up so deep down inside that it seems impossible for it to surface

Feelings of inferiority to others? Bottled

Want to cry or break down? Nope, gotta be cool

Started crying in front of someone and can’t stop? He’s not crying, you’re clearly blind

Speaking of crying, once he starts, and I mean genuinely starts, it’s so hard to get him to calm down, and even then the tears don’t stop

Sometimes he’ll start to freak out and send himself into a panic attack because the tears just won’t stop

He’s that influenced by the thought of being vulnerable

On a lighter note, he does adore playing the piano, but the only person he’ll play for is Maka

He swears it’s not favoritism, and it’s partially true, but favoritism does play a large role in it

He frequently drags Maka to his room to show her a new piece he put together

And if he notices her feeling a little down that day, he’ll start playing a song that he knows she likes

He definitely knows about her love for old timey romance songs and is very embarrassed to admit a lot of the pieces he constructs are based off of that

The walls are p a p e r t h i n , he can hear her music through the walls

He secretly finds it adorable when he catches her listening to it because she’ll be dancing around to it

He also frequently finds himself thinking about those moments

He’s the stereotype that parents tell little girls about, with how boys will bully their crush

He’s a lot more playful and easy going, but still teases Maka, so much

Unlike Maka, he’s fully aware of his feelings, and acknowledges them, but bottles it up, only letting himself entertain the thought every once in a while

He jabs at Maka’s lack of “Cupids Kettlebells” as a way to try and ensure she won’t fall for him, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does

He reads the same dictionaries that Maka does, not for fun, but so he can know just what the actual h e l l she’s saying

More than once he’s had to look up a particular word or phrase online because he can’t find it in the dictionary

“What the hell? It’s an old Victorian saying!? Where does she keep finding this stuff!?”

Subconsciously, as time goes on, he starts using old phrases as well, he was so embarrassed the first time he got caught saying “Keep your idle daddles* off of her!” when defending someone from a perv.

Black☆Star:

Is so unbelievably selfish with food

It’s not even funny

He will stab someone if they reach for his food

He surprisingly eats healthy most of the time though?

Says something like “I have to otherwise I’ll never surpass the gods!”

The only person who could ever p o s s i b l y steal his food is Tsubaki, but even that’s pushing it

He has the weirdest dreams, and I mean weird

Dreams like being turned into a potato and being cooked, mashed, and devoured by Tsubaki herself

He didn’t talk to her for a week after that dream, and refused to eat potatoes for a full year because “You never know if it could be a person turned into a potato!”

He was also very offended when Tsubaki ate potatoes during that time period

He takes things very literally

Like up above, if someone does something in a dream, he acts like it was real

Or if someone makes a joke about fighting, he will drag them outside to fight

He’s secretly scared of Tsubaki

But it’s for literally the stupidest reason

And he fully believes that because of it she could fight god and win

She used to have a pet cockroach

One of the flying ones

And he is so unbelievably scared of them, because for some reason they just don’t die, and they have w i n g s

So the fact she owned one as a pet scares him so bad even though it was literally for only a week

He has a soft spot for children

He doesn’t really know why

He just does

Is secretly really good with kids

Literally the definition of dad material

He has his flaws but still

Little kids are the only people who could steal his food and get away with it

Every. Time. and it makes the others so mad

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

What can I say, she’s perfect

She probably receives love letters

Reads them over when she’s feeling sad

Likes to keep them in a shoebox she painted

She definitely paints to unwind and relax

Likes to go outside and paint the sunrise/sunset

Takes note of beautiful scenery so she can come back in her free time and paint it

She probably draws/sketches too

Carries a sketchbook with her

More than likely has drawn Black☆Star doing something

Like napping or training

She’d never show him though, too scared of inflating his ego or giving him the wrong idea

Stress bakes/cooks

We know she cooks

Liz took advantage of it and pretended Tsubaki’s cooking was her own

So we know she does

Sometimes painting/drawing doesn’t cut it

So she heads to the kitchen and bakes away her worries and unwinds

The main reason Tsubaki would possibly be spared from Black☆Star’s stabbing habit with food is because she cooks all the meals

She makes sure everyone is comfortable around her

She’ll go as far as to learn someone's customs and practice cooking their unique cuisine just to make sure that they feel comfortable and safe in her presence

She radiates mom friend energy

She’s perfect mom material, perfect wife material, perfect in general honestly

*Cupid's Kettlebells is a old term for a woman's bust

*Idle daddles is a old term for hands

I Hope you like these general headcanons for the main seven! You didn’t say which characters you’d like to see, so I played it safe by putting the main characters! Thank you for the ask!

[everything-makes-me-anxious]

My Five Favorite Chilling Tales of Holmes

Given how shocking, dreadful and unbelievable actual crime was in Victorian England, it's a testament to Conan Doyle’s desire to make a mark with Holmes that he did not fashion his stories after the horrible crimes happening around him.

No, Conan Doyle eschewed rehashing the stories of real life murderous doctors, spurned lovers poisoning wives of married men, rampaging tramps committing mass murders of families, and grudge-carrying servants in favor of mostly tame stories of crime (blackmail and theft of inheritances probably being the most common in his tales).

I say "mostly" because he did write some ghastly cases for Holmes to solve. The Hound of the Baskervilles alone would be enough to secure Conan Doyle's name as an author capable of writing great fantastical horror.

But he didn't stop there. Here's my top five favorite tales of chilling crimes that Holmes has ever had to face:

THE CARDBOARD BOX

I can barely bring myself to read this one when I reread the stories. It is not only horrifying -- an elderly woman receiving a pair of severed ears anonymously by post -- but the truth behind the crime speaks to the utter misery that humans can and do render unto others. We see Jim Browner's happily married life crumble to pieces by the connivances of an infatuated sister in law, whose introduction of another man to her sister is the beginning point of so much tragedy. Alcohol abuse, loss of love, affairs, and a terrifying chase scene and death. All because one woman hated her brother in law for not loving her. It is a fine examination of the things we're willing to do to each other out of our own misery, to make others feel as miserable, but by God is it a terrifying and vivid tale.

THE RETIRED COLOURMAN

Probably second only to The Norwood Builder when it comes to stories that feature the creepy things a spurned man will do, this story is almost too much to bear. Most of the stories in The Casebook are unbearable, but that's another matter (and an opinion for another time). For any true crime buff it may ring eerily familiar to spousal homicide cases within the past fifty years. And yet the advanced and almost ingenious double homicide took place well before the stuff Forensic Files loved to pick apart. The fact that you are not certain until the very end that the pair have been murdered (and not just locked up or escaped) is unnerving, and the way in which we find out makes it all the worse: Holmes bluntly asks Amberley, "Where are the bodies?" Everything the murderer does marks him a very cold, diabolical person who is perhaps the third most dangerous man Holmes had the displeasure of tangling with. Then there’s the thought that this man is 60 years old.. someone that old doesn’t begin his criminal career with such a huge and almost perfect crime. What other crimes has he committed?

THE DANCING MEN

Along with “The Five Orange Pips”, this is one of those tragic tales where the client is done to death before Holmes can take any action. However, the tragedy of the wife’s past -- which she so desperately tried to put behind her -- catching up to her AND her husband, leaving her shot in the damn head and widowed is just so much more horrible to me than the events of “The Five Orange Pips”. Holmes was so close to the end, too, to the point that if he had finished his work just a few hours sooner, he may have saved a life. Just because the woman was the daughter of a mob boss and attracted the affections of a thug, she is unable to start a life where all of that is put behind her. The past catches up with an innocent woman, getting her injured and her husband murdered. All because some thug refused to leave her alone. It’s creepy. It’s also plausible and has happened before (with less drama perhaps, and no ciphers).

LADY FRANCES CARFAX

My god. What about this story isn’t gruesome and terrifying? Just imagine you’re an unmarried woman vacationing in a foreign country, and a couple of criminals take a shine to you because you happen to wear an expensive necklace. Next thing you know, after being charmed and delighted by these seemingly good-natured religious folk, they kidnap you back to your home country, gassing you with chloroform all the while, steal all your valuable jewelry (which is all you have to your name) and then stuff your nearly-gassed-to-death body in a coffin, on top of an actual dead person, in order to be buried alive. Jesus Christ. The ineptitude of Scotland Yard was almost fatal this time, as the warrant didn’t come until the woman was practically in the ground, and Watson could barely resuscitate her upon getting her out. Whether in real life or the pages of these stories, I’d hate to be at the mercy of Victorian-era Scotland Yard (Abberline was an insufferable buffoon).

THE CROOKED MAN

Another one to go under the heading “tales that exhibit how shitty the human race is”. It’s another more tragic-than-chilling tale like The Dancing Men, but I find it horrifying all the same. The crooked man in question had his sweetheart and all hopes for a normal future snatched away by the most cunning, cowardly and disgusting excuse of a fellow soldier (!) who betrayed him into a trap in order to get with his sweetheart. Pretty messed up. However you feel about colonialism, this guy spent years being beaten and tortured until his body became deformed, and tried many times to escape unsuccessfully. In Victorian England, a man so deformed as to be stooped over and one who isn’t elderly enough to explain such a posture would be considered a freak and wouldn’t be able to live normally in society. And thus it was for him. He lived a quiet life far away from anyone who might recognize him, and made the only living he could with his exotic pet and snake. All this, just because he was in love and loved by a woman that a fellow soldier of his wanted for himself. And that man got her. She married him, and was married to him, ignorant of his treachery, for thirty freaking years. Imagine being married to such a scoundrel, a man you didn’t even see yourself with and honestly pining for the man you thought long-dead, for so many years and not knowing he was the reason your lover was presumed KIA. Imagine having so many years of your life wasted with a despicable creature. And imagine not being able to be with the man you did love, upon finding him alive, because of the way society was back then. This story is so horrible and tragic.

Special mentions: The Bruce Partington Plans, for the terrifying things people will do for money, and The Devil’s Foot, which at least saw some vengeance.

[theconjugationofyeet]

Iron Dad AU Fic Recs

this is gonna be kinda long

Stark Industries: An American Workplace by fourdaysofrain

“No, I don’t--” The corner of Peter’s mouth twitches down and he looks at something behind the camera. “Mr. Stark doesn’t treat me any differently than the other employees. I don’t know why everyone says he does.” He tugs his sleeve down his wrist and looks to the side. “I’m the receptionist, so he has to talk to me more to like, plan his calendar and stuff.” --- The Office!AU (For the "AU: TV/Movie" square in Irondad Bingo

We’re Alright by writing-in-my-spare-time

When billionaire Tony Stark comes into the cafe late one night to get his caffeine hit, he finds barista Peter busy doing homework. The homework is quite advanced and right up Tony's alley, and the two hit it of immediately over their shared love of science. But when a masked gunman interrupts their bonding session, Tony knows he'll do anything to make sure Peter is alright.

Prompt: Modern Day/No Powers AU

Apartment 43B by @ironfamjam (my most favourite author ever)

After Peter gets stabbed clean through, he knows he can't let May see. His genius plan? Sneak into his best friend's apartment and clean himself up.

The problem?

It's the wrong apartment.

Enter Tony Stark, the ex-CEO that disappeared off the face of the earth three years ago, armed with his handy little first aid kit, custom made coffee machine, and witty anecdotes.

Somehow, the breaking in becomes a habit.

Irondad Bingo Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Walking The Grey Line by ALittleBattyLady

When Ben Parker dies in his arms, a little piece of Peter dies too. At age 14 he's spiraling down into a hole of emptiness and just can't seem to move forward. Then he accidentally texts the wrong number. Tony thought he could handle whatever the world threw at him, but Steve's betrayal was something he hadn't expected. Months later he's still struggling to pick up the pieces. Then after a wicked bender, he wakes up with a text from a stranger.

They've built themselves a world that exists within nonsensical messages, where Peter finds a father figure he never expected and Tony finds himself worrying for a kid who shouldn't have to suffer so much. Still, the world still exists outside of their bubble of texts. The Avengers have been broken apart, the Accords are nowhere near perfect. Peter's uncle is dead and he's about to be thrown into a world of heroes.

What started as a chance meeting through a strayed text is about to turn into so much more.

AKA The Wrong Number Irondad Au no one asked for, but received

If You’re Going Through Hell, Keep On Going by @baloobird

In a world with no superheroes or powers, Tony Stark turns over a new leaf after his plight with Afghanistan. He goes to therapy and it changes his life, so much so that he decides to open up his own practice and help people that are like him.

His newest client: Eight-year-old Peter Parker

Little did he know that he would actually become attached to one of his patients

What Occurred In Raychester Castle? by @fictionart

Lord Anthony Stark is the Earl of Raychester castle. He inherited it from his father when he died, and soon he'll be married to the lovely Lady Virginia Potts. His life the perfect example of Victorian values, everything was going the way it should have.

Until one day, one of his lower servants worms his way into Tony's heart, and introduces him to a world Tony knew was there, but had never seen, and challenges the very way he viewed the world.

Yet, it doesn't feel like such a mistake.

---

Or a historical AU of Tony Stark and Peter Parker set in 1890s fictional Britain, where Tony is an Earl and Peter is a lowly servant.

Our Pages Flipped In Reverse by @ciaconnaa

Fifteen year old Peter Parker makes headlines when he's captured in a terrorist attack during a Sokovian science convention. Three months later, he's a household name when there's reports he busted out of a cave in some ridiculous iron suit.

With a miniaturized version of Tony Stark's infamous arc reactor in his chest.

Naturally, this means the two have to meet.

Intern Spider by @justme--emily

Penny Parker applied to the pilot Stark Industries internship program before she got her powers. But when Mr. Stark becomes her personal and superhero mentor, she'll have to get creative to keep the two identities separate...and secret.

ever in your favour by @iron-spider

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

A Tale As Old As Time by @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars and @femalemarvelfanatic

A selfish man gets cursed into a metal suit, and only a little boy with a dark past and a heart of gold can break the curse. It’s a tale as old as time.

peter’s stars by @parkrstark and IronPengu

Steve and Peter lose their apartment and are kicked out on the streets. Steve has to juggle between jobs to earn whatever money he can, take care of his son while refusing to let him realize how much they're trouble in, and keep them warm and safe on the city streets in winter.

So, he really doesn't have time to date the billionaire that flirts with him everyday as he buys his cup of coffee. Even if he did, he can't let himself fall for the man. Because if he knew that he lived from a backpack and showered in a public bathroom there's no way he'd still want him...right?

Make Way For Tomorrow by @tonystarkstan

Before Ben died, Peter won a booth to present his project at the Stark Expo. But even on the run from the foster care system, he can't pass up the opportunity to attend and show the world his project. It all goes so well, until it doesn't. Trying to avoid being caught, Peter runs out on Tony just as the man is about to make him the offer of a lifetime.

Bold of him to assume Tony won't try to find him.

It All Comes Back To This by @tonystarkstan

After a car accident leaves him hanging somewhere between life and death, Peter must decide whether to stay or die. The answer isn't as easy as he thought it'd be. Luckily, he has his friends and the Avengers there to help him figure it out.

Have Patience, Quick Wit and a Gentle Heart by @ironfamjam

“I’m your fairy-” he scowled, looking pained, “you know what, no. I’m not going to say that. It’s ridiculous and not even accurate. I don’t know who invented those fairy tales you humans love so much, but they’re beyond terrible."

"Wait..." Peter tried to hide his grin, "Are you my fairy godmother?" he laughed, unable to stop no matter how hard he tried.

The man glowered. "Watch it kid. I could turn you into a frog instead."

Or

The Irondad Cinderella AU one person asked for

 More Ancient Than Magic  by ironfamjam

Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.

It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.

But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.

Even if it breaks him.

The mini Hogwarts AU

The Case Of The Sinister Spider

In New York City, Peter Parker finds his entire life up-ended when he gets a phone call informing him of May Parker's tragic accident. But when new evidence comes to light proving foul play, no one in the NYPD will give Peter the time of day.

No one that is, except genius consulting detective on probation, Tony Stark. But Tony has his own demons to fight. Struggling to maintain his sobriety after a tragedy in London forced him overseas, Tony learns that what mends hearts might not be at the bottom of a bottle, but something like a string of unsolved murders and perhaps even love.

Or, the Elementary AU no one asked for

Only For A Little While by eccentric_artist_221b

Exploring the relationship between Tony Stark and Peter Parker if they had been passengers aboard the Titanic over 106 years ago…. an Irondad AU 

a galaxy far, far away by @madasthesea

a star wars au if tony and peter were master and padawan

___________________________________________________

add to this list if you know any more awesome fics with an au!

[that-house]

Hey so I hit 100 followers today!

Buckle up, this is gonna be a LOOOONG post.

I quite honestly expected it (while my ego is a little smaller than my jokes make it out to be it is definitely present), I didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

It’s not an insane milestone, plenty of people have 100 followers. A hefty portion of my followers are bigger than me. But it’s still important to me. Knowing that there’s 100 people out there who enjoy my shit makes me happy.

First and foremost the credit quite honestly has to go to ahegao George Washington. No, I’m not joking. Until I posted on r/tumblr about my desire to draw that, I had 0 followers. I jumped to like 10 overnight, which was awesome. And then those new followers helped me spread my posts and get more attention.

Secondly I’d like to shoutout @imaverysadgirl and @themeaninglessjumble. You two were my first real tumblr frens. You were the first of my followers to really interact with me. Ember, I’m super happy you’re alive to see me hit 100 followers. Jumble (I don’t know your name unless I forgot it), your art and creations are great and you deserve way more attention.

To all the rest of you, you guys are great, too. Every new follower makes me happy. I’d say I don’t deserve you all, but my colossal ego says I do. Regardless, being nemesi and getting called out for being horny on main and sending and receiving asks has made this last month or so great.

Finally, for all the shit it gets, and for all the shit it pulls, [tumblr] really is pretty dope. I got to meet you all, and it’s actively making me a better person by exposing me to groups of people I’d rarely interact with in real life.

Why does it feel like I’m saying goodbye? I’m not, don’t worry. I plan to stay, and neither death nor pain shall drive me from this hellsite. I’m just saying thanks.

Now with the thanks out of the way, I want to talk about myself a little. Just the stuff that I’ve always wanted to say and never quite gathered my thoughts and found the time to talk about.

You’re gonna get to know me so well! This is like a mini autobiography!

First off, my mental health. This is something I don’t talk about much on this blog, mostly because it doesn’t need much talking about. I’m doing pretty well, to be honest. I have a smattering of anxiety and I’m maybe a little too introverted for my own good, but I’m not suffering from depression and the only time I ever even remotely considered suicide was when I just really really didn’t want to go to French class. COVID has been great for me, since I don’t have to see people. I suppose I’m not a great person to talk to if you’re struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, seeing as I can’t personally relate, but I’m still always here for you guys if you need me. Just because I haven’t lived through your experiences doesn’t mean I can’t try to help.

Next up I want to talk about my sexuality. This one’s a bit of a mystery. For the past 16 years of my life I’ve considered myself 100% straight. But lately (let’s be honest, following the release of Spirit Blossom Thresh) I’ve been wondering if I might be bi. How many times can I joke about wanting to smash sexy boys before it’s not really a joke anymore? And if I am, a lot of things would suddenly make a lot of sense. But every time I think I have it figured out it suddenly feels like I have no clue what’s going on. Regardless, my sexuality has honestly never been a massive part of my identity (though I’m definitely not asexual, my friends can attest I’m far too horny for that). I have no clue if I’m bi and for now it’s kind of a fun little adventure!

I guess I’ll talk about school and stuff now. Believe it or not, I’m kinda smart. I’m taking a shitton of AP courses this year. But I simultaneously feel like it’s too much and not enough. I’m smart, but I’m not a great student. Compared to my dad, who graduated college with a 3.98 GPA (and his only B being in History of Canada as an American) and now has a super well-paying government STEM job that he loves, I feel like even if I work my ass off I’ll never quite measure up. And my parents have had super high expectations of me, and it’s only recently that they’ve started to accept that I might get some B’s here and there. I’m worried about all the homework this year. I’m a year ahead in Math but I don’t feel good enough at math to be taking AP calculus junior year. I’m worried I’m going to get like a C. But for the most part school is alright, too. That’s sort of the trend in my life. Everything’s alright.

Time to talk about my love life! I have no love life! I’ve been single for 17 years and probably stand no chance of changing that until at least college! Haha I’m so alone! But I can live with it. Growing up an only child with a few friends means that I’m pretty good at functioning without a ton of social interaction, and, while I’d like a partner someday, I’m not desperate. I can wait until I find someone. Pretty much my goal is not to die alone.

Onto sports maybe? I played soccer for most of my life, and was always the worst player on the select team. I was too good for the normal team and not good enough for the select team (kinda like math). Soccer was really toxic, especially when you’re the worst player on a team of high school jock drug addict boys. So I quit, and started playing frisbee! It’s a lot better. The people are nicer! But my first season never happened because of COVID and now I’m in my Junior year and haven’t played much frisbee! So I kinda suck! But I’m physically fit and that’s good enough for me! On my own time I bike and run to stay in shape.

Are you still with me? Now I’m gonna talk about my hobbies and things!

I’ve been playing video games for a long time. I kinda suck at them to be totally honest. I probably have below-average reaction time, and my parents only let me play 15 minutes a day for most of my childhood, so I have a lot less practice than most of my friends. I’m pretty slick with Swain in LoL tho.

This next part is borderline shameless self-promotion, but since the Kickstarter isn’t live yet I guess it doesn’t count. I’m making a tabletop role playing game! I’ve been working on it for the past few years. My goal is to launch the Kickstarter prior to my college applications, because that’ll look sexy as fuck to potential colleges. It’s a post-apocalyptic sci-fi game where you play as supersoldiers trying to reconquer the wastelands of Earth for humanity. I’ll do a big post on it when I launch the Kickstarter, and I guess that’ll also be a full name reveal (kinda spooky since my full name is ENTIRELY unique and one-of-a-kind. More ego boost lmao).

And finally I want to talk about my art and writing. I’ll start with my drawing, and finish off with my writing, since that’s what I’d most like to be known for on here (but that’ll never happen because my caveman brain shitposts are too funny).

So I’ve been doodling for a long time. I briefly got formal art training but sacrificing my Saturday mornings to draw what someone else wanted me to make so that I could make better stuff in the future didn’t appeal to my 8-year-old brain. I draw in the margins of worksheets. I draw on random sheets of paper. Recently my parents bought me a drawing tablet, and I’ve been trying to improve at digital art. I’d say I’m getting better, but I don’t practice nearly enough. All in all my art serves its purpose. It makes people laugh and can sometimes creep people out. It’ll never go in a museum, and I’ll never make money off of it but whatever.

And finally, my writing.

How can I talk about writing without talking about reading? I’ve likely read more books than both my parents combined, and if not, it’s close (and my mom is a prolific reader too). I have three bookshelves in my room and books on every surface. You can’t follow me for long without seeing a post ranting about my latest read. I love to read and I read incredibly fast. Reading spurred my love of English class, which in turn helped me write.

And finally, we get to writing in and of itself. I’ve been writing stories since I was a little kid. I’d like to think I’ve improved a fair bit. I’m still no novelist, but I consider myself a fairly adept short story writer.

But I suppose where my writing really stems from is my bed. Every night while I’m lying in bed, I tell myself stories until I fall asleep. I work on a story until it’s done or until I get bored of it. Along the way, in the shower, on my bike, I build the world of the story, crafting the plot. Sometimes the stories are elaborate fanfictions of my latest reads. That’s probably how they started. Often, they’re unique worlds all of their own. My current writing posts are about the City of Mammon, but my current story in my head is about some vampires who hunt other vampires in Victorian England.

And now we get into the process of writing. It’s fun! I sit myself down with an idea in my head, and use all the fancy words I picked up from my books to convey the vibes I want. I honestly wouldn’t be a great writing teacher. It’s just a skill that comes naturally to me as a result of what I’ve been doing with my free time my whole life. And it’s beautiful. And every time someone compliments my writing or reblogs it, I love writing just a little bit more.

Well I guess this is it. The 100 follower special. I wonder how many of you guys will take the time out of your day to read this. Hopefully a lot!

James (or That House) signing off for the night!

<3 thanks guys

[yurileclercseyeliner]

Elementary, My Dear Curran (Sherlock Holmes AU, Chapter 1)

Hi, so I decided to post this first chapter (which is already up on ao3 under yurileclercseyeliner) here as well! Just letting you all know, I did take some creative liberties due to the fact that I am trying to make a fusion of the world of Dragalia Lost and Victorian England work. For those of you who saw it on ao3 I apologize for not updating, it’s just that college applications are kind of kicking my butt now and I haven’t been focusing on much else besides school. Anyway, on with the chapter!

———————————————————————

Chapter One

London. A bustling center of change and industry. A city home to people from all walks of life. Of course, not all said walks of life are entirely soral or mafe-

Wait.

Shit.

That aside, London can be full of trouble if you go poking your nose in dangerous places. That’s where the Scotland Yard comes in. We investigate crimes in London and keep people safe from all sorts of unsavory types, from murderers to petty thieves. Most of our investigations are quick, you check out the scene, you go down the list of suspects, and you pluck out the culprit. Simple. Well, at least it was simple until an eccentric decided to throw himself into the mix.

My name is Curran Watson, a Scotland Yard inspector. And these are my misadventures with a certain Heinwald Holmes.

It all started with a murder, you know how it is. Our Commander, Elisanne, sent me along with Tobias and Hope, Chief Inspector and Constable respectively, to check out the crime scene. The victim was some rich sop named Nathaniel Wooster, who owned La Maison de Theatre, this expensive theater on the West End. He was found by one of his actors slumped over in an empty dressing room with his head smashed in, blood all over the walls. A pretty nasty scene, if I’m being honest. Tobias and I discussed the facts of the case on the carriage ride over, while Hope listened intently while practically bouncing out of his seat, probably excited for his first investigation. He reminded me a bit of how I was when I was a recruit. I still couldn’t really tell if he had the stomach for the job yet, though.

“I think we’ve covered everything, Curran. I feel as though we need to get a closer look at the scene and the suspects before we go making any conclusions,” said Tobias, closing files he had been reading and placing them back in his bag.

“Makes sense, we haven’t really been given any details about the timing of the death and who was there, so that’s a good place to start,” I replied, glancing out the window at the pedestrians walking the street.

“Hey, Inspector, this is a little off-topic, but how are you doing finding that new flat? Do you have a flatmate yet?” asked Hope.

Two months earlier I had gotten a pay raise after cracking a particularly difficult case, and it was enough that I had decided to move out of my old, dusty flat that looked like it was going to collapse in on itself any minute. It was time, and it wasn’t like I was going to miss my old flatmate. It’s not that I disliked him or anything, it’s just that we never really bothered to get to know each other. He didn’t really seem to mind either, if I’m being honest.

“Uh, actually the search is basically over. I found this nice place on Baker Street. The landlady said that she already had someone who was also interested in moving in, so I didn’t really need to go looking for someone. I should be moving in within the next two weeks,” I answered.

“Oh, cool! Must be nice not having to worry too much about finding a person to move in with!” Hope replied cheerfully.

The carriage stopped in front of the theater as the conversation died down. A young man with blond hair with a bright yellow suit to match stood in front of the theater.

“Ah, you must be those Scotland Yard folks who are here to investigate the theater. My name is Fritz, I discovered the body,” said the young man, who didn’t seem too shaken by the situation, at least on the outside.

Tobias was the first to speak.

“Yes, I am the Chief Inspector. Since you discovered the body I believe you will be the first to be questioned.”

“Ah, of course, who else needs to be questioned?” Fritz responds politely.

“Every performer and crew member who had been inside the theater within the past 24 hours,” Tobias answered. He then turned to speak to me and Hope. “Hope, you will be joining me in questioning the witnesses. Curran, I want you to take a look at the body and then mark off the crime scene.”

“Yes sir!” Hope affirmed cheerfully.

“Got it. So it’s just backstage in the main theater, right?” I said, mentally preparing myself for the stench of rotting flesh and stale blood.

Fritz confirmed this for me and told me that the specific dressing room was the first door on the left wing. I left Tobias and Hope behind and made my way to the stage.

“Damn, this place really is fancy,” I said to myself, taking in the heavy amount of red velvet and gold accents used in the decorations. No wonder rich people flocked there, the place oozed with expensive, even if it was a bit much for my taste.

I climbed up the steps on the side and pushed my way through the bright crimson curtain. As I reached the door Fritz had directed me to, I heard scuffling noises on the other side.

Someone else was here.

I didn’t recall Elisanne sending any other investigators, and I didn’t know who in their right mind would go poking around a murder scene just because. I knocked loudly on the door.

“Hello? Who’s in there?’

No answer.

“This is a crime scene, who the hell are you?”

Suddenly, a voice with a slight German accent responded.

“A bored person who might be close to solving this mystery for you, now can you please stop your incessant chatter so I can think?”

Seeing as I was getting pretty impatient, I decided to slam the door open. I then laid my eyes on a strange looking man on the ground, removing the shoes from the body’s feet. The man had long black hair with white streaks, visible stitches on his face, and unnatural purple discoloration on his skin. He wore small, round glasses and a black pinstripe suit that had been stained pretty badly by all of the blood on the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re tampering with the evidence, the only people who are authorized to be back here right now are members of the Yotland Scard! Who are you?” I shouted, with the man in front of me looking pretty unimpressed.

The man slowly stood up with a bored expression on his face. “Allow me to answer your questions in order. First off, I’m investigating a murder because I’m bored and I believe I can do it faster and more accurately than most of you imbeciles at the Scotland Yard. As for your second question, I am a bored scientist. You may call me Heinwald Holmes. Now that your questions are out of the way, allow me to pose one of my own: Do you always stumble over your words like an idiot every time you open your mouth?”

Want to make a request? Read my rules here: https://yurileclercseyeliner.tumblr.com/post/635018067473285120/first-rules

[zairapvrker]

Teeth: Vampire!Luke // Chapter 6

Author’s Note: writing this gave me three migraines and two breakdowns followed by an existential crisis, but at least it’s out! i’m so so so so so sorry for the long wait.

Summary: Luke knows the rules and his boundaries, he has respected them for centuries. He knows he should stay as far away as possible from every human on his path. But that was before she came along.

Warnings: mentions of death, unedited.

masterlist | chapter 5 , chapter 7

Luke made his way through the populated hallways of the high school he’d condamned himself to attend, huffing in annoyance every few steps. He swore to himself the last time he did this to never ever try and pursue this kind of torture again - but he couldn’t really argue with his motifs after all, they were the same as forty years ago. Her. 

For God’s sake, it’s not like he needed to be here - hell, he was born way before high schools were even concieved by the human mind and surely received a more than proper education - but she was, so he was.

“Stupid, moronic, unbearable teenagers” he murmured frustrated, avoiding a freshman who almost spilled the contents of his water bottle on him while tripping on air in an attempt to rush to his classroom.  He hadn’t had a good night, usually he would unwind reading while waiting for sunrise, but he couldn’t deny that scaring the hell out of the creep that had dared put his hands on Bea hadn’t been fun. They guy deserved to walk away with far more emotionally scarring memories of the encounter in Luke’s opinion, but Ashton had interveined before the blond could have his true fun. His friend was more adamant than him in keeping a low profile and causing as little trouble as possible, and the fact that he’d enrolled in high school was already enough attention in Ashton’s opinion. 

He scoffed, his train of thought interrupted as she walked into the classroom along with one of her new friends, Calum, he believed. Just before sitting down in the seat right behind the blue-haired boy’s, Bea spared him a small smile. Luke believed that if his heart was still beating, it would’ve stilled for just a split second. He didn’t like how human she made him feel, how everything he thought he’d finally suppressed for forever, came back with just a smile. This time was going to be different.

I hadn’t slept well, of course. I was already drained of all energy and emotion the second I stepped into the house. Then, of course, I had to deal with my mother’s questions, concearn and worry. It was far too late for my liking when I finally made it to my bedroom and even later when I could lay down on my bed after a trip to the police station and probably the longest shower of my life. However, sleep did not come my way as easily as I had hoped it would’ve. I could still feel the guy’s hands on me, grabbing and pulling and I could still see the fury in Luke’s eyes - somehow frightening yet comforting, foreign and absolutely familiar at the same time.  Tossing and turning was all I managed in between short and troubled sleep breaks in which nothing but dreams of him saving me, over and over again through the centuries, kept me restless. 

So it was no surprise to me when just after ten minutes of lesson, my mind slipped back to those dreams, my head hiding into my crossed arms and my eyes closing as the voice of my Physics teacher was washed away slowly. 

I found myself wandering around golden decorated corridors, with paintings hanging in every corner and soft, distant music accompaining my steps. I caught my reflection in a mirror and stopped to stare at myself in disbelief. I let my hands caress the deep purple shiny fabric of my dress, a spectacular ball gown which reached the floor and had a very poofy skirt thanks to the heavy layers of fabric weighing me down. My hair was twisted in a very complicated updo, leaving space to dangling earrings. I let out a short surprised sigh as another hand sneaked around my waist, holding me close. “You look breathtaking” lifting my eyes to find his in our reflection, I smiled. It was like everywhere I went, there he was. “Thank you” I murmured back, his lips opening into a smile as well. Truth be told, he looked far more breathtaking than I did. As soon as he hooked my arm through his and guided me to the ball room, I felt like just a spectator, as if I was remembering a memory far far away. Rationally, I knew it wasn’t possible that this was something I had lived, I knew it couldn’t be me the one dancing around with Luke at a party in the Victorian England. Another part of me, the very irrational one, was telling me a whole other story. It lasted very little, the peace, the fesivity, the light conversation and atmosphere. I realized it felt like disaster followed us, everytime I saw him in my dreams. This time I was being dragged away, screamig his name, before I fell to the ground hurting, silent, as he ran towards me. Everything went black.

I woke up wincing lightly, hoping no one had caught it. I found Calum looking at me from over his shoulder quizzicaly, before turning around quickly.  “Ms. Longford, is there a problem?” the teacher’s voice called. So much for not being noticed, I thought. Sitting up properly and emerging from my hiding spot behind Calum’s back, I shook my head. “No, everything’s alright” 

Luckily, the bell interrupted whatever he was going to say next, as students started walking out of the classroom. My blue haired friend looked at me as if he wanted to ask something, but apparently let it go. “I’ve got to run to my next class, see you in English?” he asked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah, see you later” I smiled, earning one back before he walked away.  As I quickly packed my stuff, I couldn’help but frustratedly sigh at the headache that was starting to creep from the back of my head. I still had too much time of school left for this inconvenience. 

“Come with me” this time, unlike every other time, his voice didn’t surprise me. I turned around, finding him there looking at me with a grave expression. “Why?” and as much as I wanted my voice to sound firm and sure, I couldn’t help but find it shaky and light. His expression softened a bit and he just offered me his hand, surprisingly, I didn’t even have to think twice before grasping it in mine. He dragged me out of the classroom, not caring for the looks people were giving us, not even when we walked past Michael and Ashley - both having weirded out expression plastered on their faces.  “Luke, can you at least tell me why am I following you? I needed to be there for my History class, we were going to start a new chapter and I really can’t afford to ditch-” “You can afford to ditch, you haven’t been absent one day” he interrupted me as he took a sharp turn for the back exit that lead to the football field. “And how would you know?” I stopped dead in my tracks, both out of breath for having to keep up with his freakishly long legs and fast pace and the accuracy of his statement. He stopped too, turning around in the middle of the path caved in the grass by generations of students who didn’t want to take the long walk to the field, and looked at me dead in the eyes. “Because I observe you” 

“What?” I let out kind of shocked, but he didn’t answer rather started marching towards the bleachers once again.  “Hey, no, Luke!” I tried to let go of his hand, but he was holding it too tight. “For fuck’s sake, can you at least let me breathe? I may come to school everyday but I sure as hell don’t partake in every gym class” I complained, almost panting an embarrassing amount, as we reached the bleachers and I finally plopped onto the nearest seat. 

“Sorry” he just said, barely seeming so from his tone. I flashed him a very little amused smile as he sat down next to me. “What have you dragged me out here in the freezing cold to talk about?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest to hug my jacket closer. 

“I now realize I probably shouldn’t have” he said staring straight at the empty field in front of us. I did too, waiting for him to say something. “I just can’t keep watching you being like this” he admitted, almost whispering. “Like what, exactly?” I asked, defensive. He looked at me briefly but intensely, as if to ask me to think twice about what I’d just said. “I’m perfectly fine” I stated firmly. “I’m just...” But I soon realized I didn’t really know what was up nor how to finish my sentence. “How is it any of your business anyway?” I asked. “I barely know you” 

He scoffed. “Oh, you do know me, you just don’t realize it yet”  “What’s that supposed to mean?” it was safe to say I was highly confused by now, yet I couldn’t let myself drop the argument. I had too many questions regarding the dreams that had plagued my nights for a month now, the fact that I felt like utter shit almost every day, how I seemed to trust him so easily and every reason why seemed to be him. But it just couldn’t be. 

“You know what? You’re right. But you’ll figure it out by yourself, you always do” he said, not moving an inch. “I just don’t want it to end like it always does” “You talk like you know something I don’t” I let slip, just above a whisper. “It’s because I do” he smiled at me, and I swore it was the most familiar smile. 

“Do you want to go study?” I asked, tired of being cold. “Since you made me ditch History” he laughed lightly, then nodded. Shortly after we were in the only classroom we found unused, the one where the school band practiced. I sat down at the first free desk and watched as Luke sat at the piano, taking a book out of his bag and started reading. Every few minutes my gaze shifted from my notes onto his figure, still focused on the pages he was reading, and had to force myself to keep my concentration. “Do you play?” I asked, giving in to the curiosity. He looked at me from over the rim of the book, nodding slowly. I smiled, secretly hoping he would understand what I meant. Luke shook his head, smiling softly, before letting go of his novel and finally letting his fingers dance on the piano keys. 

As he played I couldn’t help but observe him, how he was lost in the music and how peaceful he seemed, opposite to how he always appeared. Beautiful as a broken angel. Suddenly, I felt my heart beating way too fast for it to be normal, almost producing a ringing in my ear, as a sense of déjà vu overtook my mind. Only this time, the scene unfolding in my head belonged to a different time.

“I lied” he stopped playing as soon as the words left my mouth, facing me with a questioning look. “Maybe I do know you” his eyes sparkled with a light I couldn’t quite place, before he said “We’ll see about that”

--

I had only just finished to get my friends off of my back for seeing me ditch class with Luke, having to endure questions and sly remarks all the way to my house - after having accepted Calum’s ride - when my mother decided to keep asking about the day. I brushed her off, feeling a little guilty only when understanding that she was worried. Strangely enough the events of the day had kept my mind quite busy and off of the fear. But now, a new question needed answers.

Maybe Luke was just crazy and messing around with me, maybe I was loosing my mind or maybe, just maybe, he was right. All I knew was that I needed answers and he was the only one who could give them to me. With a new sense of determination and the knowledge that as soon as I closed my eyes dreams would come to me, I laid down on my bed, trying to fall asleep. 

The scene that presented itself to me wasn’t so distant like the others. No Shakespearian theaters, Victorian ball rooms, not even the reoccurring propaganda for The Great War or the bombs flying over the night sky followed by the deafening alarms. No, this felt more familiar to what I was used to seeing every day: an high school. The banner that hung up high above the school entrance read “Congratulations class of ‘84!″  So this was graduation day? Soon after I spotted what my gut told me were my friends, sitting on the stairs before the glass doors, I walked over to them: once again my own will faded away as I stood back and watched.  Conversation flowed easily between the group, but I excused myself rather quickly to go look for someone, instantly knowing who. I didn’t need to wander through the deserted hallways for too long, following the soft melody that was echoing through the walls. It brought me to the music room, where I found Luke sitting on a desk strumming along on a guitar. The same he’d played for me today.

“I knew I’d find you here” I heard myself say, resting my shoulder against the door frame. He looked up and flashed a smile in my direction. My eyes wandered across his figure, lingering for a second too long on the way his white shirt hugged him perfectly. “Why aren’t you outside with the others?” he asked with a sly smile. I watched as I saw myself blush a little. “I was looking for you, why aren’t you?” he shrugged in response and came closer to me.

Resting his forehead against mine and his hands on my hips, he whispered softly “We need to get out of town before sunset” “Why do we always have to run?” I asked. “So that we can be together” came his answer. “I know” I murmured. “I just wish it was easier” shrugging, I let my eyes lock with his blue ones. He just planted a soft kiss on my lips, acknowledging the feeling. “We’re going to make it this time” he assured me. I simply nodded, but that didn’t ease the feeling of hopelessness that coursed through me. It was a carefree afternoon, the one I watched unfold between the group of freshly graduated teens, spent mostly at the fun fair organized by the school for the event. Still I felt it was too soon to say goodbye when I watched Luke drag me away from the group and to his car, before starting to drive.

We’d made it into the next town over by the time the sun had started to set, somehow the air in the car was thick and heavy - but not from the summer heat. “We should’ve been further away by now” he murmured as he sped up just a little. “It’s alright-”  “No, it isn’t” he cut me off harshly. “Listen Luke, I’m sure this time is going to be different. They’re going to leave us alone-” “They never do, Beatrix!” he shouted angrily, leaving me speechless. I faced the other way, looking out of the car window, trying to hold back my tears. “I’m sorry for raising my voice” he said, sounding small. “I just can’t afford to lose you again” “You’ll never lose me” I wiped a fallen tear. “You quite literally can’t” I laughed softly, turning around to see the small smile that had formed on his lips.

It was night time when we stopped in the first motel on our way and settled into the room. The worry seemed to have dissipated just in the slightest, but all my senses were highly aware as I watched this version of me get into bed along with the golden haired boy. “I wish it had been me, that night” I heard myself whisper in the dark. “Don’t even say it” “But I do” I sat up. “I’ll always do” “You don’t know what you’re talking about” he sat up as well, looking at me. “Spending the rest of eternity like this, condemned to this life” he spat out the last word as if it’d been venom. “Watching you slip right out of my grasp just as we’re so close to happiness...” his voice broke and I saw myself looking for his hand and finally holding it in mine. “Then change me” I suggested, my voice faltering. “It’s not what you want” the harshness he was trying to mask was still prominent in his voice, putting a stop to the conversation. But before anyone could add anything, everything started going downhill as usual.

As a fight ensued between Luke and the mysterious man that had barged into the room, I tried to offer some aid but was immediately told to run, so I did. However, I didn’t make it as far as I had wished - only getting to the lower floor and hiding behind the ice dispenser. “You can’t hide forever!” sing-sung the voice of a woman, hearing her steps come closer and closer. I grabbed an empty bucket and tried to hit her with it as soon as she cocked her head around the corner, but she didn’t even falter and swiftly turned around, effectively kicking me to the ground. Almost unconscious from the pain I watched, powerless, as she pressed a knee down on my chest, leaving me breathless. “You’ll both never win” she murmured before stabbing me.  I had seen this all before, how he managed to find me just mere seconds before the life would leave my body, how he crouched down to listen to me beg him to find me in another life and how he promised to. But I had never seen how he‘d stay there, near me, whispering he loved me again and again. I had never seen the despair of a man who had just lost everything so clear in his eyes. 

I woke up trembling, damp from the sweat and panting. This could not just be a dream, this out of every other nightmare felt way too real to be just that. I noticed how, like the first time I started dreaming of him, my body still felt stiff and was still hurting from the injuries inflicted to me in the dream. And what was he going on about? What did I mean with change?  I tried to calm down a little, sipping a bit of water from the glass on my nightstand, before deciding that this was entirely too strange to ignore. Somehow, someway I knew Luke and he knew me.

Not even thinking about how to find him, I put my shoes on and grabbed my jacket before sprinting out of my room and down the stairs, yelling a “Be back in a while!” to my mom and not even waiting for an answer as I slammed the front door shut behind me.

 tags: @keithseabrook27​

[mostweakhamlets]

In modern adaptations (the two we have plus any future ones that will inevitably happen) of Sherlock Holmes, do we still think it's necessary or even appropriate to have Watson be in the military?

In Elementary, Watson was never in the military and instead was a surgeon. Her lack of military experience doesn't affect her story at all and her choice of not practicing medicine anymore seems to take its place. It works well. You don't feel like her character is missing anything, and it really drives home the point that this Watson is her own adaptation of Watson. She's something we've never seen before, and I, for one, love it. Especially since all of the military stuff in the canon is tied to Victorian imperialism and feels outdated.

However, without Watson never having been in active combat, we also miss out on a good opportunity to have representation of someone with a disability. Watson, in canon, begins his story arc in pretty poor shape. The wandering wound stays with him through the stories as he occasionally mentions when it (or both?) is bothering him. Elementary never makes an attempt to replace the cause of disability and instead completely writes it out. Of course, there are many other past adaptations that don’t make Watson disabled. But we can make the claim that the 21st century media (as in media created in the 21st century rather than mid-20th) is more friendly to portraying disabled characters. 

In Sherlock, we have Watson in combat... and we still don’t have that representation. Less than halfway through the first episode, we lose his psychosomatic limp. I admit I’m not great with disability theory, but I know that there is a school of the theory--the medical school, I believe--that basically portrays disability as something that can and should be cured rather than have the world accommodate for people with disabilities. Sherlock shows Watson’s limp as being something that can be “fixed” with emotional/mental help. Finding his friendship with Holmes and joining him on his first case is enough to overcome PTSD. Kinda not cool for me tbh.

Anyways, in Sherlock, we don’t really see Watson’s military background come into play for any major points in the series (the only other point it gets acknowledged is during Hound), and his limp is only back for a few seconds after Sherlock’s “death.” If you’re not going to do anything productive with it or make an effort to reshape the narrative surrounding it, why not get rid of something that was so closely tied to the horrific past of your country? There’s not much to suggest that the military contributed a lot to Watson’s character. Instead, there’s just a man with PTSD because he was shot--oh jk he doesn’t have PTSD anymore. 

In canon, it’s a little frustrating at times to see Britain during its imperial, militaristic era. By the time the books were written, Britain was losing colonies. You can tell (by Sign of Four mostly) that “exotic” people and things were still spectacles and there was a fear of the influence of these “exotic” things on the British population. And Watson’s good, gentlemanly, British soldier background is ingrained in his character. He’s kept the Empire safe from exotic influence (again, Sign of Four). He’s ensured that the colonies stay in their place. He’s not like other soldiers who got corrupted in India (SOF!!!) and brought back Indian goods and were loud and boisterous and were Anglo-Indians (a real thing. People really believed that British people could be corrupted by being in India and other colonies like the ones in Africa). 

If this has a problematic past, then should there be some shame in keeping it in the 21st century? When we’ve, for the most part, condoned colonization? And if we don’t include it, then is an opportunity for disability representation lost? Or is the military the only noble way that we can make someone disabled? 

[immawritethat]

Missed Connections

(Somewhat connected to this piece I half-wrote last year and have been thinking about since) Anyhow, this the workshop draft of a short story I wrote for class, and I just think it’s v neat and wanted to share!

----

Dolores Lopez spent much of her free time inside museums, but today she was here with a purpose. The building was much younger than many of its contents—an oblong Art Deco styled building, trimmed with golds and chevron and all those other lovely elegant things. The atrium stretched to the full height of the building, dwarfing all patrons as if to say “You are inferior in the grand scheme of history; there may be no one to tell your tale lest ye gain the wealth and notoriety seen here!”

Or perhaps Dolores was simply projecting.

The first time she’d visited this particular museum was in the second grade, back when she wore her dark brown hair in two simple plaits—well, until two of the boys in class decided a few months later it was a stroke of comic genius to cut one off with a pair of scissors during class—back when her complexion still held a rich, golden undertone to it instead of a sickly yellow tinge, and back before she had to squint through thick, round glasses that later had her teased for looking far too much like an owl. It was so long ago she couldn’t remember exactly what they had been there to study—maybe something about the Native Americans or Columbus or vaqueros, but that wasn’t what made an impact.

She remembered, once they had been given time to look about the museum freely, taking one glance at an old World War II nurse’s uniform from the travelling exhibit and bursting into tears. A grief she had never been introduced to flooded forth, having seen no death in her lifetime, and pulled her underneath its tide. Something had been sitting inside her, buried deep underneath everything she knew of herself. The chaperone overseeing her had ended up taking her outside to calm down, asking what had happened. She had never quite been able to explain it, and lied that her stomach hurt when pressed for an answer.

As she aged, Dolores noticed more and more of her life out of the ordinary.

There were the vivid dreams, showing flashes of lives both mundane and horrific. They varied in topic, but often continued on at some point or another, as though a new episode had finally aired. Sometimes there were flickering shadows of a cobblestone hearth, and other times the sparking battlefields on the edge of the Euphrates. The most common ones brought Dolores into a living room decorated with floral wallpaper, a gramophone playing a song she later discovered was Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again.” In some dreams, she sat with another girl, a few years older, playing with rag dolls whose threads unraveled and only just remained stitched together so they wouldn’t have to hear the wailing of an upset child. In others, they were older, seated beside the radio, listening to whatever the statesman had to say on the state of drought and war and the economy.

Sometimes she sat alone, patching up old skirts and trousers, with little more than the hum of the wind to bring her company.

Only now was she beginning to understand what those dreams meant.

“Dolly Lopez?” The silvery voice came from behind Dolores, along with a gentle tap on the shoulder, pulling her focus back to the present. She turned, and an aged tension lifted from her body. Remington Siegel stood half a foot taller than her, dressed in a rather interesting combination of neon prints which stood out even more against his dark skin, looking nothing like the person that she had missed, but feeling every bit the same.

Dolores swiped the tears from her face, clearing her throat to compose herself. “You kept me waiting,” she said.

“I never meant to.” Remy put his arms across her shoulders, pulling her into an awkward side-hug. “Should we sit somewhere? Or is there an exhibit you’re fond of?” He paused for a moment, face screwed up with thought. “You weren’t the one with a stamp collection, were you?”

Dolores scrunched her nose. “I don’t remember much, but I definitely don’t remember that.”

Remy only shrugged. “Another lifetime, then. It’s tough to keep them all separated, you know.”

Dolores’s gaze fell down to the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, stuffed with loose, crumpled papers on the verge of falling out. The weight of the binder in her arms seemed to double.

“Maybe the café?” He suggested, in hopes of breaking the silence. “It was a long flight from Newcastle, and I haven’t eaten much since—too busy trying to get a hold of myself.”

“Of course! Sorry, I got lost in my own head.” Dolores stepped to the side, gesturing forward. “Honestly, I’m just still a bit shocked you’re really here—five months of Twitter DMs and now? Bam! You’re just…here.”

“Well, that’s one of the many plusses of being the only grandchild of wealthy grandparents—they’re willing to spoil me at the drop of a hat. Well, that and I have spent far more time doing this.” He gestured his bag forward. “Maybe I’m not half as organized, but I’ve got it mostly-kinda-sorta figured out. Seeing me in action should help you out a lot.”

Dolores nodded, offering a soft mm-hm, but her eyes were clouded and far off. He hadn’t brought it up. She knew they had talked about it plenty through their messages, but it felt strange to not mention it. Wrong, even. But this was the third time he’d done this—he’d even approached her about it all. Maybe there was some taboo about it she was unaware of.

Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him.

She listened to Remy ramble on about his research methods preferred databases through the halls, around the line of the café, and even for the first few minutes seated at the table. She asked questions from time to time, but ones which were only half engaged—Oh really? How long did that take? How did you come up with that? She spent far more time shouting in her own head to get over her worries and ask something with more meaning.

“You’re dying to ask something.” It was a statement, rather than a question, delivered between a mouthful of muffin and a sip of tea. “The hesitant look in your eyes—go on, don’t be shy. I didn’t come all the way out here to buy five dollar muffins and be half-listened to.”

Dolores averted her gaze, focusing on the instead on a photo of an aged Victorian doctor, apparently one of Remy’s most notable memories, who looked up at her with a stern warning to mind her words carefully. She wiggled the straw in her tea aimlessly. “No, no, I’m alright!” She forced out a laugh, the way she had practiced on plenty of bad dates throughout plenty of lifetimes. “I’m just a little—”

“Look, Dolly—If you tell me you’re star-struck again, I’ll just have to ask you what’s wrong and that’s never a fun conversation.”

Dolores took in a short breath and sighed, deflating in her chair. “I was just…hoping maybe we could talk a little more about…” She pressed her lips together, failing to hold back her true thoughts. “Us? What we were, what we went through. I mean, God, it’s hard enough to find someone who remembers at all, let alone someone you shared that history with! Let’s talk about the fact that you were Betty and I was Judith and that we’re only seeing each other again now nearly eighty-goddamned-years later in two totally different bodies and from two totally different places!”

Ceramic clinked against the table. Dolores pulled her fist back towards her chest, face flushed from her outburst. She hadn’t meant to get that worked up, hadn’t meant to hit the table.

Remy leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs, and drew out a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, frowned, and then fixed his gaze back on Dolores. “You know that fun little saying War is hell? It’s not too far off.”

Dolores scooted her chair closer to the table, so that her belly pressed against the cool laminate. She hunched forward, so that he wouldn’t have to speak any louder than was required between the two of them.

“I try not to remember being Betty. I know you remember a lot of the good things, but you were the little sister. It was my job to make things seem fun and happy for you, even when Dad lost his job during the Depression and when the neighbors started getting shipped off left and right when the war started.” Remy paused. He suddenly found the particular soda stains on the floor particularly interesting, and focused his gaze there. “I know I signed up to be an Army Nurse because I was exhausted playing nanny for you. You were thirteen, I figured you’d be fine if I was gone for a bit. I could see the world, and meet some boys.”

He let out a whistle, low and long, like the groan of a dropped bomb. “Boy, oh boy did I meet plenty. You see things you couldn’t imagine happen to a human body treating a warzone. They kept me with diseases, mostly, not trauma.”

Dolores nodded. She knew how the story ended—Betty had contracted TB, died before the war even ended, and left her sister—had left her—without so much as a final goodbye.

Remy shrugged his shoulders, and returned to his previous position. “I’d love to say I remembered the good things, Dolly, but I’ve got all the ugly. Well, mostly.” He pulled an envelope from his bag, yellowed with time and creased with deep wrinkles. “I barely remember writing it, but I guess it was never posted. It was found in a box with some other nurse’s stuff, some old friend of mine—er, Betty’s—who’d passed, apparently.”

Dolores’s hands shook. It was so worn it had become soft, and the half-finished address was hardly legible at this point. “And it was definitely from…?”

Remy nodded. “It’s yours. Sorry it took so long to get here. But, hey, look at it this way: we got to say hello again instead of goodbye.”

Dolores’s lips quirked up into a smile. She left the envelope closed, and placed it inside her binder for later. She’d waited for it this long, anyway. “Hello is much nicer than goodbye, isn’t it?”

[popatochisssp]

Skeletons Masterpost

The number of posts I’ve made about headcanons and such is starting to get a little long, so I feel like this might be useful! ;3

I’ll be adding to this as I do more things and try to keep it relatively up-to-date with all the stuff I’ve written, headcanons and actual fic alike.

Under the cut because it got pretty long!

Sans (Undertale)

Random Headcanons: 1

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2

Sans is a basic bitch

Stuff he enjoys in bed * 

Virginity?

Pokemon team

...Well, one of you is gonna have to change.

-

Love in a Ball-Pit

-

Papyrus (Undertale)

Random Headcanons: 1

A-Z Ask Game: 1

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

-

Get Dunked On

-

Sky (Underswap Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

With a s/o who’s never been in a relationship before

On marking his partner *

Stuff he enjoys in bed * 

Pokemon team

His cautious opinion of humans

Would he ever Judge his s/o?

-

Best Worst Day Ever

-

Paps (Underswap Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

With a s/o who wears thigh-highs

Paps is not a basic bitch... but he IS a college cryptid (or maybe a Victorian gentleman...)

Stuff he enjoys in bed * 

With a dyslexic s/o

With a friend who unintentionally plays on his daddy kink

Pokemon team

-

You’ve Goat to Be Kidding

-

Jasper (Underfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1

With an artist s/o who wants him to pose for them

Jasper is a crunchy marshmallow

With a s/o who wants to dom him in the bedroom

With a s/o who wants to kiss and nuzzle his forehead

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Feelings on collaring (but also, on collars with a s/o)

Pokemon team

The baby pictures he keeps of his bro

With a s/o who wants to flatter/fluster/pamper him

On knitting

-

Bad to the Bone

-

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2

With an artist s/o who wants him to pose for them

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Feelings on collaring (but also, on collars with a s/o)

Pokemon team

Theatrical romance

-

Better Than Expected

Family First (Platonic)

As You Like It

-

Mal (Swapfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

What is Swapfell Indigo?

How to start winning his trust

On marking his partner *

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

With a s/o who doesn’t want to wear a collar......or wants to wear it as a bracelet instead? Or maybe a big bow? (Would he wear a bow collar...?)

Adapting to the surface

Pokemon team

If someone were to try and boop him (Being booped by a s/o specifically)

With a self-negative s/o

With a s/o who’s scared of rough stuff in bed *

With a s/o who doesn’t like fancy styles of clothes

Mal and his Princess

Aftercare best practices *

-

Mission Impossible

Dirty Laundry (plus The Hamper [WIP] for extras)

-

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3

A-Z Ask Game: 1

What is Swapfell Indigo?

With a very small, very affectionate s/o

With a s/o who hasn’t had the best life

With a diabetic s/o who cannot accept sweets from him

Stuff he enjoys in bed * (and if his s/o is kinda subby, too)

How his s/o’s first period around him might’ve gone

Why he’s a little more vulnerable when he comes from a Kill or Be Killed universe

His feelings on collaring (and if not being able to beat Mal is an obstacle...) Or if his s/o wants to wear a big bow as a collar?

Adapting to the surface

Pokemon team

With an argumentative s/o

-

Resisting a Rest

Snuggle Therapy

Dirty Laundry (plus The Hamper [WIP] for extras)

-

Slate (Horrortale Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

On fixing the hole in his skull

Making it work with a small normal-sized s/o

With a s/o trying to wear his clothes

Why is he so big?

With a s/o who wants to dress up fancy to go on a casual date

With a s/o recovering from anorexia

With a s/o who wants to kiss his hands

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

A meet-cute

Pokemon team

If his Phantump discovered some...memories...

With an adopted sibling in college who’s working too hard

With a s/o who has as much LV as he does

Is he a sadist?

Using his poor memory to trick/prank him

Can he see out of both eyes?

Skull damage

-

Fur a Good Time, Call... (plus Snips & Snails for extras)

Safekeeping

-

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

With a s/o who struggles with anxiety/depression

Making it work with a small normal-sized s/o

With a s/o trying to wear his clothes 

With a s/o who likes to be picked up

Why is he so big?

With a s/o recovering from anorexia

With a loving, domestic s/o

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

With a s/o who isn’t intimidated by/likes his height

Trauma/coping from the Underground

-

A Modest Proposal

-

Ash (Undergloom Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

What is Undergloom?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

-

Undergloom Sandbox (worldbuilding, meta, flash-drabbles)

-

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

What is Undergloom?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

-

Undergloom Sandbox (worldbuilding, meta, flash-drabbles)

-

Brick (Horrorfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

What is Horrorfell?

His ideal s/o

With someone struggling to learn sign who wants to communicate through text/writing

His feelings on his lost voice

Refusal to rely on text-to-speech

Reaction time

Swearing in sign

Acrylic vs wool

On knitting

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

His relationship with his brother

Surface wildlife

Telling his s/o about the Underground

Skull damage

Pokemon team

-

Tangles (WIP)

-

King (Horrorfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

What is Horrorfell?

Who took the blame for all the dead humans? Well...

On King’s prosthetic leg

How to befriend/get close to him

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

His relationship with his brother

Surface wildlife

Telling his s/o about the Underground

Pokemon team

-

Sunny (G!Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Gastertale?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

-

Aster (G!Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Gastertale?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

-

Merc (Horrorswap Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Horrorswap?

Pink

No, not ALL the way pink

Though that would be cool

Does his personality change post-pink?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

His ideal s/o

-

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Horrorswap?

Not pink, but blurple is nice too

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

-

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

What is Horrorswapfell?

HSF!Dirty Laundry

Blind jokes

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Skull damage

There’s a snake in his face

Pokemon team

-

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

What is Horrorswapfell?

HSF!Dirty Laundry

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

All the Skeles...

Where their nicknames came from (Part 2, Part 3)

The not-so-secret G!bros... [NO LONGER ACCURATE] THIS is the one you want!

Sending flowers to their s/o

With a s/o who has narcolepsy

Who can use shortcuts?

With a transgender s/o: 1 | 2

With an asexual s/o

With a s/o who has chronic pain (active skeles, and the lazybones)

Where to run into a Sans for the first time

Cats vs Dogs Opinions

With a s/o who’s having a birthmark surgery

With a cute, yet intelligent scientist s/o

With a shy, easily flustered s/o

With a s/o who has self-harm scars

Favorite Youtubers

With a ticklish s/o

With a s/o who cries a lot

With a s/o who dyed their hair to match their magic

LARPing

With a s/o who has a degenerative condition

D&D

Worst traits in a relationship (and the Silver Lining!)

Best traits in a relationship

Halloween: 1 | 2

With a death metal vocalist s/o

With an s/o who is a dragon

Astrological signs

Chinese Zodiac animal

Opinions on puns: 1 | 2

4/20 Blaze It

Accidentally walking in on their crush changing

Unique tastes in music

Meme literacy

With someone being aggressive toward their s/o

With a s/o who’s loud when excited and then self-conscious

Relative heights

...but if their heights were static and they had a relatively tall s/o

Weights...?

Boobs or butts? *  (Tumblr is dumb, here’s the exact same link)

With a monster s/o without eyes

With an s/o who sings about them

Who confesses first?

How does monster pregnancy work?

With a s/o who wants to be poly

With a bilingual s/o

With a monster s/o who’s the strong, silent type

Proposing to their s/o: Sanses | Papyri

Favorite Disney movies

With a s/o who has the power of KR

Beverage of choice

With an affectionate s/o after a wisdom teeth removal

With a crying s/o after a wisdom teeth removal

Can skeletons squish?

Body insecurities when with a human s/o

With a s/o scared of getting married and having kids

The brothers’ relationships with each other

On scary movies and a scaredy cat s/o

As adopted siblings to a teen/young adult human

Biggest pet peeves

With a s/o who has curly, fluffy hair

With a s/o that used to have an eating disorder

With a s/o who draws on themselves with sharpie

With a s/o having their period (And more on the HT boys specifically) (Plus an update with the new skeles)

With a s/o who has low self-esteem

With a s/o who has body-image issues

With a s/o having a bad day, and how to help on their bad days

What and who is The Judge? (Plus the new skeles)

With their pregnant s/o who forgot to tell them it was twins

Can monsters get sick?

With a s/o whose pet just died

With a s/o who draws them as superheroes

With a s/o who has projective chromesthesia

What jobs do they have on the surface?

Making their s/o gigglesnort for the first time

What kind of huggers are they?

Accidentally hurting their s/o in an argument... (but don’t panic because...)

With a pregnant s/o (and if he was the pregnant one)

With an accidentally pregnant s/o

With their brother’s s/o

Lingerie preferences * (Tumblr is dumb, here’s the exact same link, and here’s another link for the new skeles update)

With a s/o who can lift them

Dresses they might pick out for their s/o (or suits they might pick for their s/o)

With a s/o who wants to learn a new skill for them

What kind of kissers are they?

How they feel about Valentine hearts (and if their s/o decided to tease them...)

What kind of sweets they’d get their sweetie for Valentines Day

Gaster...?

What kind of cuddlers are they?

Feelings on petnames (and favorites to use) PLUS the reverse: (pet names they like to be called!)

Sharing a s/o with their brother...?

What kind of lovers are they? (And what if it’s their s/o’s first time?) *

Awareness of RESETs

Modern Stats

With a s/o who’s a criminal

As Pokémon

With a s/o who’s scared/anxious about pregnancy and childbirth

How fast do they move in a relationship?

How are they at aftercare?

How do they feel about being edged? Sanses | Papyri *

The Sanses stats

To a s/o who attempted suicide

With a s/o who secretly plays the guitar

How to get him riled up in public *

How they’re like when drunk/tipsy (and their drinks of choice!)

With a s/o who has split personalities

With a s/o who has a big secret in their past

The loud skeles with a s/o who gets bad headaches

Annoying Dog across AUs

With a s/o that snores

With a s/o who doesn’t like attention in bed and wants to take care of him instead *

On tattoos and other body-mods

Lifespans and aging

Feelings on public displays of affection

With a short-tempered s/o

All the Sanses are scientists!

As candies/sweet treats

Misc Underswap Alphyne headcanons

Preferred condiments/toppings

On Vocaloids

With a stoic crush who looks at them affectionately (UF, SF, HT)

With a shy s/o getting the courage to hold their hand for the first time

With a s/o who gets into a lot of trouble

With a sensitive s/o (UF & SF)

With an artistically-minded s/o

Thoughts on seeing their kid for the first time

With a s/o crying because they’re so happy

Prominent scars and injuries (UF, SF, HT)

Favorite cats & toys in Neko Atsume

Kinds of flowers they’d surprise their s/o with

Favorite foods

Who would win in a Pokemon tournament (or would they prefer a contest?)

What do they feed their Pokemon?

What are they like as yanderes?

With a s/o who wants to go to a Pride celebration

Hogwarts houses (and the new skeles update)

With a s/o who’s cut family members out of their life

When they’ll be comfortable with “I love you” with a s/o

Soft hands vs rough hands

With a s/o whose depression causes dissociation

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Nuzzling habits

A s/o trying to climb them (Papyri | Sanses)

Trying to surprise-kiss a tall skele

Knowledge of flower-language

How the upbeat skeles handle bad feelings

Opinions on humans

Cats & Dogs they might own

Talking during movies

The active skeles with a lazy s/o

Tics and habits

Baby Shark

Spooky Scary Skeletons

Which starter Pokemon would they pick?

Younger brothers’ first words

Age gap between the older and younger brothers

Area 51

On killing (UF, SF, HT)

Babybones Papyri bringing home a bad grade

Gaming habits

Being called ‘husband’ by a friend

Feelings on Pokemon (the game)

Can the innocent, sweet, naive skeletons take care of themselves?

Languages they might be interested to learn

On cursing

How they handle separation from their brother

Ideal honeymoons

Wild West AU

Surface integration for ‘fell ‘verses

Minor deity AU

Buying menstruation supplies for their s/o

Speech patterns across AUs (plus the new skeles)

Mood/stimboard vibes (plus UG and HF)

What animal would they be

As kinds of cake

Halloween costumes (new skeles only)

Frisk’s role in Swapfell

Playlists

On eye-lights and the shapes they make

So no additional humans died in HS and HSF?

Spit or swallow *

What would the skeles be like if they were gay?

On the intrusion of skull orifices

-

Hope for the Holidays (Sans & Papyrus bonding, no Reader)

Bag of Bones (drabble collection)

Working Out the Kinks (Kinktober 2018) * NSFW, not for minors!

Make Your Mark (Soulmate AU, and here’s the Symbolism Guide)

Flotsam and Jetsam (Mermay inspired, WIP)

Not So Spooky Scary (Halloween costume drabbles)

Choose Your Adventure (Holiday Edition)

Kinktober 2: Electric Boogaloo (Kinktober 2019, WIP) * NSFW, not for minors!

-

Soul Searching (w/skeletons 1-14)

-

Sweet Treats (drabble collection, WIP, w/all 20 skeletons)

[julictcapulet]

So if you don’t know, Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year) has come upon us, and after a not so great year, I have been lucky enough to still have a group of friends I can turn to when I’m in need, both irl and on this site. Everything is already so long, so I won’t ramble more at the beginning, but all I can say is even if we don’t talk as often, or even if you don’t think you’ve had an impact, just know that I had a very tough year that took a massive toll on me and even if you reblogged something about our ship or replied to one of my posts, that’s enough to give me a bit of happiness. I’m very excited about this, I really am.

part i. to my partners

I’m lucky enough that I have quite a few plots, all of them with partners who I adore and admire and am in awe of, and believe me when I say it wasn’t hard at all to write my own personal letter for each of you <3

@abernathywrites​ - I don’t think there’s a word to describe your writing other than wonderful? I’ve fallen in love with Sebastian and Bella, my depraved and corrupt murder couple, and I’m so pleased to say I get to write with you knowing just how talented you are. You’ve got a way with words that I just hope to meet halfway, which is one of the reasons it takes me approximately seven thousand years to get a reply, but I enjoy our plot so much knowing how many layers there are to it.

@aguswrites​ - oh KAY we have two plots together now and I am so invested in both of them like our minds…..are so iconic. I swear, we kinda just yell stuff at each other that don’t make sense or connect and then twenty minutes later, we’ve got this sprawling plot with intricate relationships and amazing muses and I’m so in love with it all. I really didn’t expect it to spiral into the absolute mess that it is—when we were first plotting, I was hoping I’d be lucky to plot with someone who didn’t mind darker plots and oh my gosh, I wasn’t disappointed. You’re one of the funniest people I’ve plotted with but you still write so exceptionally well in a darker setting and I love it so much?? I cannot even begin to explain how much I love our murderous near-sociopathic isolated and tragic children, and our badass criminal would-die-for-each-other-without-question squad. I truly just enjoy chatting with you and sharing memes and writing with someone who has the same kind of excitement as I do, it’s such a wonderful feeling and I hope you know the excitement is reciprocated <3

@arisaint​ - We’ve literally just started our ship and I am already so excited about it. The time period, the differing personalities, the sCaNdAl…I’m game for it all and what we’ve got so far is just so great, I’m so happy I’ve got such a talented writer to plot with and someone who’s so sweet and nice to talk to about whatever we feel like <3

@bvckywrites​ - OH BOY can I just say? How much I love our ship?? I think, at this point, we’ve taken the brand Homoerotic Sexual Tension and Subtle Animosity and made it our own. I’ve had so much fun with Sage and Val over the past few months, one of my favorite dynamics I’ve written so far. Every ask meme I write for them kills me more and more with each one I get sent but it’s so effortless to write for them, and that’s one of my favorite things to find and I’m so happy I did :)

@billeypiper​ - Ah yes, how could I forget the person who gives me literally every single ask meme I want? I love Madelaine and Milena so much, they’re such different muses and that’s why I love our ship. It’s ridiculous how long it takes for me to write one (1) sentence but my interest/love for our girls has never wavered, and I hope you know that <33

@danascullyrps​ - I’m absolutely so behind on our plots it’s a tragedy wow I promise to get my shit together asap because everything to do with pirates is like…gold for me and I love where we’re going with this.

@grcvitywrites​ - No, we haven’t yet started our plot, but does that mean I’m any less excited? Absolutely not??? I’m the type of person who’ll get most of their muse from messaging about headcanons and talking about our muse’s backstories and it’s so much fun to do with you :)

@meghvnmvrkles​ - I owe replies and I’m mad about it because I’ve been so excited about these guys for a while now lmao. Anything to do with secrets being exposed and gossip girl and terrible people doing terrible things to each other is right up my alley and I am so ready to really get into this plot because it’s gonna be such a great time I can’t wait to finally finish them okay ily <3

@of-marauders​ - I love our ship dynamic so much wow it’s so interesting and heartbreaking and sad and I’m so excited to get to the next bit!! Something with so much worldbuilding and background information is something I’ve never really had before in a plot and it’s a shame because I’m the type of person who likes to know everything about the environment I’m writing in. And that’s why it’s so great that we’ve got a plot going because I’m wholly invested and can’t wait to continue.

@pcralta​ - My lesbian victorian vampire ex-girlfriends will be the death of me and no, I’m not upset about it at all what do you mean? All the angst and pining that’s going to come with our plot is exactly my cup of tea and even though we’ve, like, just barely started, I already know your writing is great and so is Aurora and so are you <3

@princessflowerwrites​ - HEY THERE I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WRITING AND YOUR ENTHUSIASM FOR LITERALLY EVERYTHING EVER?? You’ve got this infectious kind of happiness when we message that it’s practically impossible not to catch it, especially when you start sending inspo and headcanons for our ships and it’s so nice to have a partner who’s so into our plots I love it so much. You’re just genuinely a great person who likes to send some good inspo posts and really, that’s something everyone should have on this website because it’s a great thing :’)

@rosecolore-d​ - I MIGHT CRY WRITING THIS??? Listen. I’ve been through a few different ways of writing this out, but I hope you like what you get because that’s pretty much how I get all my replies out to you lmao. When we first started writing together, I just kept hoping that our ships wouldn’t die out because of how much I loved our plots, our muses, the way our writing styles worked together because they can be so different from one another in one reply and then so similar in another. You’ve evolved my taste in music through your playlists, I’ve both laughed out loud and teared up reading some of your messages and headcanons, I’ve stayed up until 5am sometimes talking back and forth with you and it’s one of my favorite things that have ever come out of this website. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: We stan our couples who sin or we stan no one at all. Aaron, my Soft and Emo songwriter with the biggest inferiority complex I’ve ever seen, and Camille, my manipulative, won’t-have-sex-unless-she-might-die-in-the-middle, evil bitch, are now two of my absolute favorite muses to write. Yeah, it may take me six months to finish an ask meme but it’s literally only because I’m trying to figure out the best way to make you feel the angst and pining as much as I do. I cherish our ships and our friendship okay ily <33

@vii-writes​ - The first time you ever messaged me was to compliment my writing and honestly, I don’t know if you’ll ever grasp how much that meant to me. I’ve started ships with people through liking their posts or getting the courage to message them first or reaching out after seeing a plot we were both interested in, but I had never had someone reach out to me after they’d read some of my meme responses and wanted to write with me because they liked them. I am so in love with our kids, I’ll go down with Celia and Anthony. I am so happy we started talking and every time I see I have a message from you is a great time <3

part ii. to the ones i admire from afar

If you’re on this list, take this is my formal invitation to come talk/plot with me because I admire you all from afar <3

@fablehaven​ @ofaphroditea​ @sidneyyprescott​ @shutuprhian​ @chvrliehunnam​ @maraswrites​ @faithwritess​ @stardustmsings​ @cass1x1​ @gothgf-writes​ @kaylasmuse​ @slytherin-writes​ @gortlys​ @asteriasrp​ @starswrites​ @malfoire​ @sanktas​ @astral-projects​ @lanacondorwrites​

happy new year.

[rosekun25]

 December 17th, 2019

Dear Tumblr diary,

I'm on my way back home from my trip. I had lots of fun.

First I went to Disneyland for a whole day. It was super busy and I was super hungry so I ate at the Jolly Holiday for Brunch. I ate the Tomato soup even though I don't like Tomato but Grandpa Walt liked it so I guess it's good enough for me. I also ate a Macaroon. It was delicious. Then I went and bought some of Sarah's ears. Sarah is the girl walking on the tight rope in the Haunted Mansion stretching room.

Sometime after that, I met Sally, We talked about how the spiders helped her do her hair in the mornings. I told her how happy I was to see her and I felt like crying but I didn't want to because everybody laughed at me for crying when I met Minnie.

Then I looked at all of the decorations. The place was super packed so I got on Jungle Cruise because the line wasn't too bad. I went to meet the Princesses I met Tiana, Snow White, and Jasmine.

I remembered to be extra nice to snow white because I called her Mary Margaret and I'm sure the spell Regina put on her made her confused so she probably didn't remember. Then I saw Jasmine and we talked about Sora for a bit and I met Tiana. I was super upset Ariel wasn't there but I talked to Tiana anyway about her dress and how we watched her movie on Thanksgiving.

Then I went to meet Sinterklaas. I was so sick of sitting in line but Pooh's corner was adorable. My favorites were the pooh and piglet snowman. I met Sinterklaas. I wanted to ask him for an Aerith figure for Christmas but he seemed busy. He signed my name on my Autograph and we took pictures.

After that, I went to a small world Holiday. I got the best spot. I was watching the parade and waiting in line. Anna and Elsa waved at me!!! It felt so great!!!

I got on its a small world and had a great time. I thought it was so beautiful and took tons of pictures!

After that, I went to meet Minnie but she was tired so I went to see Mickey instead. I met him asked about Sora and he did motion like he was waving a keyblade!!! In between all the hustle and bustle, I lost my wallet. I was kind of scared.

But since I lost my wallet I ended up looking at its a small world. Since I was there at precisely the right time I got to see the whole place lit up. It was beautiful! 

I met up with my friend Megan and her friend Kevin. My first internet friends!!!! They were super cool. I was scared I wouldn't have a place to stay since I hadn't checked in but Megan offered her hotel room. I was scared of staying with a person I didn't know but it was better than being homeless. The line for Galaxy's edge was super long. But halfway through somebody had turned in my wallet!!!

Anyway, we went on Galaxy's edge and got to be pilots! I felt a lot better after that. We talked about the haunted mansion and how cool everything was. Megan talked to her cast member friends and we got to go for Haunted mansion Holiday without waiting in line! I had so much fun!!

Megan and Kevin showed me some cool backstage stuff like where they dock the boats for Jungle Cruise, backstage of the Haunted Mansion where they park the doom buggies. They also showed me the entrance to Walt’s apartment. 

Also, Kevin was cool enough to let me use his employee discount on stuff. By the way, just in case there are any snitches here. Kevin and Megan aren't their real names. We rode Pirates of the Caribbean. Kevin wanted to go to Olga's but it was packed. So we ended up going to Jolly Holiday for Hot Cocoa. Kevin bought it for us  and then it was time to go home.

Kevin wanted to make sure we all got home safe so he walked me to my hotel and then he walked Megan to her Hotel. 

I took a shower and went straight to bed. 

The next morning I woke up and got dressed. I ate a free Hotel breakfast and rode to the bus station so I could make it to Hollywood. I caught the bus and it was delayed. But I didn't mind. I arrived at the station and stopped at a tropical fish store to talk to the owner about fishes. I pretended I had business there because the sign said no loitering. 

I went to Starbucks and used my reward on a Peppermint cake pop and some tea. I talked to some lady about Homeless youth and the barista about Kingdom Hearts. After that, I went to my hotel. 

I checked in and hung out for a little bit. I also went to the front desk and got free toiletries. I pretended my bag got lost so I could get free stuff. 

I went to Denny's and ate some lunch before heading back to the hotel. I ordered a small sirloin with french fries and broccoli and some chicken soup. The waitress practically ignored me the entire time I was there and they threw away my food while I was in the bathroom but luckily I was mostly finished. 

I told the manager to give her my change as a tip but I think he kept it for himself. 

After that, I got ready for Frozen. I had forgotten my leggings so I knew it was going to be cold. I headed to the museum of death in my very first uber pool! 

I was talking to the guy he had said he had totaled his car in an accident I told him I was glad he was okay and we talked about how my coworker had gotten into a similar accident.

We arrived at the museum of death and I got a student discount so instead of paying 17 dollars I paid 15. I was sad to see that they had retired the turtles because I had really wanted to see them. 

I spent most of my time in the mansion room. It was so fascinating. I couldn't read any of the letters because they had such messy writing. I was very fascinated with the victorian burial rituals and all of the actual artifacts. 

I also realized that we all look exactly the same underneath our clothing. 

Another room I spent a bit of time in was Heaven’s Gate Cult room. I only knew about them because of Family Guy. 

I got a cool button. 

Anyway, after I left the museum of death I went to walk to the theatre to see Frozen. It was really really cold so I stopped at the Funko museum for a minute. I took tons of pictures and had a great time! I didn't buy any souvenirs because I didn't see anything I really liked. 

Frozen was amazing. I had trouble finding my seat but eventually, I found it. I wish I could have sat closer to the middle but it is what it is. 

The theater was freezing. I wonder if they did that on purpose. 

Anyway, I met this nice older couple. The woman offered me her jacket because I was cold but I said I was okay. I was wearing a purple dress with my black jacket and my sparkly flats. I was sitting next to this other girl and her mum I think. 

I like to remember Who I sat with. Like when I saw Anastasia I sat next to a couple kids my age who had seen the movie when they were younger. I sat next to the same-sex couple and they were adorable. I sat next to this girl who gave me chocolate and I was really happy because I had wanted to eat chocolate because Anastasia Romanov ate chocolate when she went to the theatre but the Ghiradelli store was closed lol. 

Anyway back to Frozen. 

They had a little bit of Frozen 2 in the broadway musical. one of my favorite lines was when Anna and Elsa’s mom said “I’m a child of the north mountains” and Kristoff’s mom said “And now you’re a queen? Good for you!!!” 

I liked how Kristoff and Anna had a song together. I didn't like how I was told there was a “Do you wanna build a snowman reprise” but I didn't see one. My favorite was def Let it go. Her costume was so beautiful.  I liked how they made it rain confetti in the theatre. Disneyland made it snow which I thought was super cool. Sadly I didn't see any fireworks while I was at Disney.

After frozen  I went to eat at In and out and they didn't have sweet tea :( So I ate and talked to this lady about theatre and these kids about the concert they went to. I ate about two hamburgers because I knew I couldn't take home any leftovers. 

I watched the new episode of Rick and Morty and I went to sleep. The bed was super nice and comfortable. I didn't feel very good so I didn't eat that much. I wanted Waffles but I had muffins instead. I ate it and went to the greyhound station. The bus was delayed and I wish I would have known it was more delayed than usual because I would have gotten more Starbucks. 

The bus station never opened. We had to wait for the bus with no idea when it was going to show up. I was kind of upset because I also needed to use the bathroom. I eventually got to the station. The driver said my bus was getting ready to leave so I just ran into line. They had us waiting for like twenty minutes so I had some lady watch my stuff when I went to the bathroom.

I got on the bus and made it to Disneyland. I saw the Hooter’s everyone in my family used to talk about. 

I made it to Disney locked my stuff in the locker at the hotel and ran to meet Jack and Sally. I waited in line for about twenty minutes before I saw them. I was so happy to meet them. We talked about Sora and about how the spiders might be able to help Sally have curly hair like mine if they were dancing. 

Jack and Sally said that it would have been a wonderful image. We talked a little bit more and I said goodbye and they signed my book. I bought a lovely pin to commemorate our first meeting.

After that, I went and got a Macaroon at The Jolly Holiday. It was my first mobile order and I ate it because I was ever so hungry. 

Then I met the princesses. Man, I was so sick of waiting in line. I met snow white again and I met  Cinderella and We talked about the ice on the castle and how we were worried about Princess Aurora being cold. But I said Elsa’s ice powers must have made it so she would have the ice but she wouldn't be cold. 

I met Ariel, I wanted to do a short video of singing swim this way with her but she said she was saving her voice so I sang a little bit of it with her. As per usual I asked about Melody and Prince Eric and she said they were doing fine. I said my goodbyes to her and went to meet Princess Aurora. 

I had to wait in another line but I didn't mind.  I met Aurora and asked if she was cold in her castle. 

I met Tinkerbell and asked if she knew Sora. She said no but mentioned he looked familiar. I said she might have met his brother Roxas lol. We talked about Terrance and she told me about her jacket. She mentioned her sister Periwinkle and I really wanted to say “You don't have a sister.” But I didn't want to get her in trouble. 

After I met Tinkerbell I left Disneyland and went to California adventure to see if I could meet Anna and Elsa. I went to the animation studios and met Anna and Elsa after waiting in another huge line. 

I asked if they knew Sora and they said they hadn't. Which again kind of sucked because FROZEN WAS IN KINGDOM HEARTS 3. I told them I thought their outfits were beautiful I asked Elsa if she knew Jack Frost. Another no, but he sounded familiar. 

After that, I went to the Beast’s library. I had never done that before and I was so happy I got to go!!! I took a little quiz and it told me I was most like Belle.  I went to look for Anna and Elsa pins but I didn't like any of the ones they had. I went on the Little Mermaid ride because I wanted to ride it once. After that I was getting super grumpy because I was hungry so I went and ate some ramen at the lucky fortune cookie.  

The ramen was not as good as it could have been. But it was filling. I talked to a guy about where to get Hot Cocoa and he told me Ghiradelli square. I bought hot cocoa and a few chocolate squares. They wanted almost three dollars for four squares of chocolate! So I helped my self to at least four of their free samples. 

I walked around with my hot cocoa and saw most of the Christmas lights. Man, I thought they were so beautiful. I ended up getting on radiator springs racers. since the line was short. Then I went on mater’s Jingle Jam. That was fun. After that, I walked back to Disneyland. 

I wanted to Meet Minnie but she was busy so I bought a rice Krispy and when I came back she was there. I took a few photos with her and then one with Pluto. Then I rode Snow White and Alice in wonderland. After that, I rode Pirates of the Carribean. I wanted to see if I could get on Haunted Mansion Holiday again but I knew I had to leave. It kind of sucked because they announced that the fireworks had been canceled so all the normies were leaving. 

The trip was kind of sad because I didn't get to go on many of my favorite rides :( Next time I’m getting fast passes. 

I did leave a little late and I showed up as the bus was there. Luckily I caught it. But next time I’m leaving in the morning.  

Well, we just stopped at Mcdonalds and I’m sharing fries with the lady who shared funyons with me.

I’ll talk to you guys later!

-Rosemary <><

[queenofcats17]

Almost An Angel 2

I did this, and now I’m doing more. 

Once again, Hymns of Struggle belongs to @pipesflowforeverandever

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fi was absolutely delighted when Francine arrived in the studio. She was almost entirely certain that she was about Francine’s age. The oldest she figured she was was 22. Or 21. She wasn’t sure. Still, she was delighted. Most of the other people in the studio (Alice, Sammy, and kind of Norman) were fully-fledged Adults. They had jobs (or had had jobs) and did adult things like have a house and pay mortgages or whatever. Actually, none of them had said anything about that. She was just assuming. The point was, they were older than her. She was pretty sure she was still in college.

“This is really exciting!” Fi clapped her hands together, or tried to, as she followed along behind Francine and Sammy. “There’s nobody else my age here!”

“How old are you?” Francine asked, glancing back at her.

“Um....” Fi’s face twisted as she tried to think. “19? Or, um, no. 20? 21 is the oldest, I think. Or maybe 22? No, it’s definitely 21. Wait...” She continued to mutter to herself, her face still twisted in thought. Francine looked at Sammy. 

“She is not an original inhabitant of the studio.” He explained. “She, like you, wandered here yourself. She was not so lucky, however. My Lord did not bless her as he blessed you.” Francine felt her stomach twist. She’d been hoping she was the only one foolish enough to venture into the studio again. Just how long had the other woman been here? It couldn’t have been too long since she recognized Francine’s phone and said she had one of her own.

“It’s 21!” Fi announced, seemingly having figured it out. “At least, I’m pretty sure. I’m pretty sure I’m 21. Or 20. Either one.”

“That’s...nice,” Francine said slowly.

“My apologies for her,” Sammy whispered. “She tends to be a bit excitable.”

“It’s okay,” Francine assured him. “I don’t mind.” It was nice to have someone who was at least slightly positive. Her positivity only made her situation even sadder, though. Unlike Sammy or Alice, Fi didn’t know her name. She didn’t know who she’d been. She didn’t even remember how old she was.

“Oh! Frankie!” Fi latched herself onto Francine’s arm. “Do you want to see my papers?” Despite her strange appearance, she had such a lovely smile. It lit up her whole face and made everyone around her feel warm.

“Your...papers?” Francine repeated tentatively.

“I write down things I remember!” Fi bounced up and down. “I’m pretty sure I used to be a writer or something because I have really cool ideas!”

“They are entertaining.” Sammy conceded. “She certainly has an imagination.” It reminded him a bit of Joey, but she had none of the expectations he was certain Joey had had.

“That might be nice,” Francine said, managing a smile.

“Awesome!” Fi squealed. “It’ll be so cool to have someone else to talk about this with!” She scrambled off, still squealing and flapping her arms excitedly. 

“Should we wait for her?” Francine asked. 

“She’ll find us.” Sammy shrugged. “She always does.”

And Fi did find Francine again. Francine was with Alice when Fi returned, looking a bit disappointed. Alice’s expression softened a bit upon seeing Fi, almost imperceptibly.

“Hello, little songbird,” Alice said, trying very hard to sound disinterested. “What brings you down to my level? I would have thought you’d be following that prophet about.”

“Oh, hi, Alice!” Fi perked up, a big smile spreading across her face. “Hi, Frankie!” She waved to both, although it lacked her usual enthusiasm. Her hands, or hand, were empty.

“Hey.” Francine waved back. “Did you bring your papers?”

“Oh, uh, no.” Fi’s face fell. “I was going to bring them but...Well...I didn’t want to get them dirty. They’re already kind of hard to read. My handwriting isn’t great.” She started to fidget, which was rather difficult given her left arm was basically just dripping ink.

“Where do you keep your papers?” Francine asked. 

“In the animation department,” Alice answered for the younger woman. “She holes up there whenever she remembers anything so she can get it down on paper before she forgets.”

“Sometimes I tell Sammy or Alice about it too.” Fi brightened once more. “Although, I don’t know if Sammy's really interested.” Her smile faltered momentarily before returning. “But Alice likes listening! She says my stories are good!”

“Nothing interests him unless it involves that grinning demon.” Alice’s voice dripped with disdain. 

“He’s just trying to cope,” Fi and Francine said together. They both looked at one another and laughed. Alice snorted derisively but said nothing more. Her little cherubs were far too sweet for their own good.

“You could take me to the animation department to show me the papers if you want.” Francine offered, turning her attention back to Fi. “And if your handwriting is really bad, you can just read them to me.”

“Yeah! That’s a really good idea!” Fi nodded, flapping her arms excitedly. “I can tell you about all my ideas! I’m pretty sure they’re my ideas, at least. Some of them might be my memories. I’m not sure. But still!” She was practically jumping up and down in her excitement. Francine couldn’t help but laugh. Fi was so cute. 

“Do you wanna go now?” Fi asked. 

“Sure.”

“Okay! See you later, Alice!” Fi darted over to give Alice a hug before dragging Francine away. Alice sighed as they left, but Francine could have sworn she saw the angel smile. 

“So, what kinds of things do you write about?” Francine asked as Fi dragged her along.

“Well, a lot of the things I remember are about Norse mythology,” Fi said. “I remember a lot about that, so I must have been interesting in it before all this. I especially remember things about the god Loki and his children. He’s got a lot of kids, you know.”

“I didn’t know that,” Francine admitted. 

“There are three main ones from a jotun called Angrboda, one from a horse, and two from a goddess named Sigyn. The three from Angrboda are the giant wolf Fenrir, the giant snake Jormungandr, and the goddess of death, Hel. I like her the most, honestly. The one from the horse is called Sleipnir, and he’s a horse with eight legs. The ones from Sigyn are Narfi and Vali, who are completely normal looking boys.” Fi seemed to change as she spoke. She seemed more confident and in control. It was also interesting how Fi pronounced the names of some of the children.

“That’s a lot more than I knew.” Francine laughed. “You must’ve done a lot of research about this.”

“Yeah, I probably did.” Fi returned the laugh. “It’s really interesting. Well, to me at least. I also know a bunch of random stuff about Victorian London. I think I was writing a story with that too.”

As they ascended through the studio, passing through the winding corridors and stepping over puddles, Fi continued to spout off her strange eclectic knowledge. She had a strange patchwork of knowledge about the most random of things. She could talk a lot about Norse mythology, weird things involving history, things about literature. She also liked talking about cats. She really seemed like she liked cats.

“I think I have a cat back home,” Fi said with a faraway look in her eye. “He was a little grey cat. I’m sure of it.”

“I have a cat too,” Francine replied. “His name’s Neptune.”

“Aaaw! I’m sure he’s so cute!” Fi squealed before her face fell. “Gods, I really miss cats. I want to snuggle my cat again.” 

“Once we get out, I’m sure you’ll get to see him again,” Francine reassured her. Fi stopped abruptly, causing Francine to run into her back. 

“What’s wrong?” Francine asked, suddenly worried something had happened.

“You said....When we get out,” Fi said, her voice soft. “But...Are we ever going to get out?”

“Of course we are,” Francine said. Her own stubbornness and spit reared its head. She wasn’t going to die here. That wasn’t going to happen. She was going to get out of here and she was bringing everyone else with her.

“Well, okay.” Fi smiled weakly. “I believe you.”

“The animation department is this way, right?” Francine gently tugged on Fi’s hand, starting down the hallway once more. Fi nodded, following behind her with a small smile. 

As they exited the breakroom, (they’d used a hatch in that area to get up from the lower levels) something caught Francine’s eye. It was a bag, laying on the ground near the Ink Machine area. She let go of Fi’s hand, walking over toward it.

“What is it?” Fi approached behind her. It was a black bag, with the word Bahamas printed all over it in garish neon green and yellow. 

“This wasn’t here when I came in.” Francine frowned as she picked it up. It felt like it contained multiple somethings. She opened it and looked inside. There was a notebook, a few pens and pencils, a book, a key, some chapstick, earbuds, and a phone. A modern smartphone. 

“That’s...” Fi let out a small gasp. 

“Is this yours?” Francine asked. She turned back to the younger woman, finding her single visible eye wide. Her body was shaking as she reached for the bag with her single untouched hand. Francine handed it over, allowing Fi to sit down and sift through the contents. 

“These are...These are mine.” She murmured, gingering drawing out the notebook. She didn’t dare open it for fear of damaging it with her inky arm. The book was a fantasy book which she had vague memories of. She was afraid to touch the phone, but still, she did. 

She lifted it out of the bag as though it would break if she was too rough with it. She pressed her right index finger to the home button. Fingerprint recognition didn’t work, of course, but she still managed to type out the passcode drilled into her mind. And then she was in. The phone was showing a low battery warning, which wasn’t surprising. She swiped through the pages of mobile games and weather apps. 

“Do you have any pictures?” Francine knelt beside her. Fi nodded, going to the photo app. A sob ripped its way through her body at the first picture displayed. A young woman, laying on a beanbag with a cat on her chest. She was young, at least in her early 20′s, and had a wonderful smile. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and her hair was cut short. 

“Is that...?” Francine looked at Fi. 

“That’s me,” Fi whispered, reaching out to touch the screen with one finger. “That’s me! A-And that’s my kitty! That’s my kitty!” She looked on the verge of tears. Feverishly, she began to swipe at the pictures, discovering more that elicited even more emotion. She found pictures of her parents, her friends, her sister.

At first, she just sobbed. Then she began to scream. She screamed at the ceiling, at the Ink Demon, at Joey Drew. They were keeping her here. They had deprived her of her family, of everything she held dear. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home and see the people she loved again. Francine didn’t stop her because she felt exactly the same way. She took comfort, though, in the date on the latest picture. It had been a little under a year ago. Fi still had someone to go back to.