#got it in under the wire! yay!

[seafoamwaffle]

These New Dreams

I finally got around to polishing up the first chapter of my Stardew Valley Ranchers, which you can now find on ao3! I'm slightly embarrassed it took me this long, but at least it's up now.

Rating: General Audiences Word count: 3k Tags: Alternative Universe - Stardew Valley, Jimmy-centric, Jimmy, Grian and Pearl are cousins, Pearl and Grian are siblings, New start, Hurt/Comfort, Social Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Additional Tags to Be Added

They stopped once they reached another big clearing and oh—he’d thought Pearl had been exaggerating about how overgrown the property had become. But wild weeds and debris stretched as far as the eye could see. Fields of wheat and corn had given way to sturdy maples and pine trees. And the house… Well, it looked as though no one had set foot in or around it for more than a decade. “Told you it was bad,” Pearl half-snickered. “You’re exaggerating! With enough time this can all be fixed up easily.” “Says the carpenter. The house looks like it’s being held together with duct tape and Gramps’ old stubbornness! Are you sure this is even safe to stay in?” Grian waved a hand in dismissal. “I went to check it over a few days back. It’s not a luxury resort or anything, it’s covered in about an inch layer of dust and I’m pretty sure a lot of the wiring and plumbing needs to be redone, but it’s not going to collapse at a moment's notice.” “Reassuring,” Jimmy mumbled under his breath

After a rough couple of months, Jimmy realizes he needs a change. Solution? Moving back to his childhood home in Pelican Town

I already have a second draft written, though I have no clue when I'll be able to post it because I am still very busy with school (yay late graduation!) so I have no clue what my posting schedule will look like.

Thank you so much for reading through and have a lovely day <3

[eksvaized]

Part Nine König / Ghost / Reader [ Previous 〡 Next ] ︱AO3 ︱Wattpad ︱ taglist (if you want to be added - let me know!): @strawberrygato, @ghostslittlegf, @eskalotte, @abcdbleh, @yawning-grave81, @liamwholover, @valira-demaur, @idek101-01, @mizu-bozu, @pinkslaystation only one more chapter to go, yay!!

The moment Simon first steps into the room, your senses falter and fail to immediately recognize the man standing before you. As your eyes unwillingly land on an imposing figure, dressed entirely in black with a sinister skull mask obscuring his features, a scream erupts from your throat, only to be stifled by the tape on your mouth. Each deliberate, heavy step he takes towards you seems to echo ominously, causing your already terrified body to coil tighter in fear. The tension knotted in your muscles is pulled so taut; it feels as if it’s on the brink of snapping , like a wire stretched past its limit.

Desperately, you attempt to convince yourself that this is not real. You try to imagine that it’s only a nightmare. A mere figment of your overactive imagination. But when Simon sits on the edge of the bed and the mattress creaks under his weight, the sound resonates with a harsh reality that shatters your hope. It’s at this moment that you know, without a shadow of a doubt, it’s as real as the air you’re struggling to breathe.

His large, gloved fingertips trail slowly, almost delicately, under your quivering jaw before curling around your chin with an assertive forcefulness that brooks no resistance. His grasp is unyielding, forcing you to meet his gaze, to look into his eyes.

“It’s a shame our little fling has to end like this,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushes across the rough surface of the tape, tracing the curve of your lips hidden beneath.

Your body instinctively shrinks away from his touch. A fresh wave of tears, akin to a looming storm cloud, wells up in the corners of your eyes, threatening to surge forth, ready to cascade down your already damp cheeks.

Before, his hands on your skin, his fingers caressing and kneading your flesh, his lips exploring the contours of your body—all of it kindled a fire inside you, leaving you yearning for more, consumed by a craving that was insatiable. But now, all you want is to repel him, to shove away his touch, to erase all memories of the times you willingly got in his bed.

At first, you fight back. Your body convulses and shakes violently on the bed as you try with every ounce of strength to let out a scream, to somehow make him back off. You grit your teeth, your muscles straining as you fight against the bindings. But as the struggle continues, a crippling exhaustion seeps into your limbs. You come to a grim realization that your efforts are in vain—there’s not much, if anything at all, that you can do while bound.

The only reason you force yourself to regain your composure, to calm your racing heart that is pounding against your ribcage like a wild animal in a cage, is the small glimmer of hope that shines in the darkness. If Simon has any intention of moving you out of here, out of this dimly lit, fear-soaked bedroom, he will have to untie your wrists from the headboard. And when that moment comes, you plan to seize that fleeting opportunity to make a run for it, to escape from this hellish nightmare.

You notice Simon incessantly glancing at his phone. His eyes flicking to the screen every few seconds. You can practically feel his mounting frustration, his rapidly dwindling patience filling the space with an oppressive tension. But then, the faint sound of a car pulling into the driveway penetrates the silence, causing him to spring to his feet. Your heart drops like a stone in your chest and your eyes widen in terror, your back suddenly slick with a cold, clammy sweat. Whoever he’s been awaiting, whoever he’s been so impatiently expecting, has now arrived, and you can’t help but dread what happens next.

In a swift movement, Simon pulls out a blade, twirling it in a nonchalant manner between his fingers as if it were nothing more than a toy. The incongruity of the situation - the casual display of the weapon - momentarily stuns you. He then presses the cold metal against your throat. The chill of it seeps into your skin. You’re too afraid to even breathe, your instincts screaming at you to pull your head back, to get as far away from the blade as possible. But his hand clamps onto the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place against your frantic efforts.

“I’m going to cut the ropes now... but if you try to run—” His words send an icy shiver racing down your spine as he drags the blade across your skin, stopping abruptly as the sharp tip of it grazes your exposed collarbone. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence — the threat in his voice is clear enough, and the implication of what would happen if you tried to flee hangs heavy in the air.

The front door hinges creak, and the subtle sound of footsteps ring through the hallway, growing louder as they approach the bedroom. A wave of dizziness and panic washes over you, so intense it’s almost tangible. Your heart pounds violently against your rib cage, threatening to burst forth, and you have to expend every ounce of your remaining strength to brace yourself against the overpowering urge to faint.

Simon, his fingers firm around your shoulder, makes you sit up and instructs you to place your hands behind your back. You comply, your arms trembling. But before he can bind your wrists again, the bedroom door swings open with a dramatic flourish, causing both you and Simon to swivel your heads towards the ominous silhouette that now looms in the doorway.

In the dim light, you recognise König, and a shaky whimper escapes your dry, cracked lips, a sound that is half relief, half terror and muffled by the tape. Despite everything, you’ve never been happier or more relieved to see him; he wasn’t supposed to come home tonight. Simon straightens his back, his hand pushing you back into the bed with too much force. You crumple onto the mattress, your face buried in the cold linen.

König, however, wastes no time. He merely pauses for a split second, his eyes absorbing the scene like a hawk spotting its prey, before launching himself at Simon with the raw ferocity of a wild beast. When his clenched fist collides with Simon’s skull, you hear a sickening crack, and the shockingly loud sound of impact reverberates off the walls, sending a chilling echo through the room.

Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in your weary body, you manage to roll out of the bed. The harsh impact of the cold floor against your skin is jarring. You painstakingly pick yourself up, wincing as you rip the tape off your mouth. Your skin stings, your lips throb with residual pain, but the momentary discomfort is worth it as you’re finally able to take a deep, gasping breath, your lungs burning with the sheer effort.

“Lauft! Raus mit dir!” König roars when his eyes fall on your shaking frame; he has Simon pinned to the wall.

König doesn’t often use German around you, and your knowledge of the language is rudimentary at best. However, at this moment, you don’t need fluency to understand the command he’s issuing. His eyes, filled with a desperate plea, speak louder. As your heart thunders in your chest, adrenaline fueling your movements, you race out of the bedroom, but a sudden realization brings you to a halt.

König’s order is clear—he wants you to flee, to escape the danger and ensure your own safety. But leaving him to face Simon alone is a choice you can’t bear to make. The guilt that gnaws at your conscience is a harsh reminder that you are the root cause of this chaos—you are the one who let Simon into your lives. The ensuing guilt and shame, the overwhelming sense of responsibility, it consumes you.

The adrenaline courses through your veins like wildfire, setting every nerve in your body ablaze with a high alertness that makes drawing a full, satisfying breath an insurmountable task. With your heart pounding like a war drum, you sprint towards the kitchen, your movements frantic and slightly uncoordinated due to the sheer fear coursing through you. As you search the surroundings, your hands knock off various items from the countertops, causing a cacophony of shattering noises as several things break upon impact with the floor.

Finally, your fingers wraps around the handle of the largest knife you can find, its weight somehow comforting in your trembling grip. However, just as you turn around, an unexpected punch lands squarely in your stomach. The force of it knocks the wind out of you, causing your vision to blur and distort as you gasp for air.

You collapse onto your knees; the knife slipping from your grasp and clattering noisily across the floor. It ends up far from your reach when a boot kicks it towards the corner. As you attempt to rise, the same boot now stomps down on your arm, pinning you to the floor while a knee digs into your back, grinding against your spine with unyielding pressure.

“What the fuck, Ghost?” The voice of the stranger who attacked you booms out, but the only response is the sound of punches being traded from the direction of the bedroom.

Each breath comes in sharp gasps, as if fighting against the relentless pain scorching your back. Determined, you try to push yourself up again, pressing your palms into the hard floor. However, your efforts are thwarted as another forceful shove sends you sprawling back down.

When fingers wrap around your hair and your head is yanked upwards, you can’t suppress a whimper. “Hands behind your back!” The gruff voice barks into your ear, but stubborn defiance flares within you, and you refuse to heed the command.

The man growls in frustration, the sound raw and animalistic, and abruptly lets go of your hair. His hands immediately shift to your arms, yanking them back with a brute force that takes your breath away. You struggle against the iron grip, your limbs flailing, kicking and screaming in an attempt to break free. But even as you expend all your strength, the stranger proves to be stronger.

When you raise your head once more, it falls back down and your cheek meets the cold tiles, their chill seeping into your skin.

In a flurry of motion and raw emotion, König bursts in, his entrance into the kitchen akin to a hurricane. His eyes are ablaze, the fire of vengeance and unbridled rage dancing in his gaze. He takes in the scene, you, sprawled on the ground with a man over you, pinning you down to the ground without mercy.

The terror spikes in your heart and your eyes widen further when you notice a figure stealthily approaching König from behind. Like a predator, he lurks in the shadows, an ominous presence made more menacing by the mysterious object he clutches in his hand.

Simon. His name echoes in your mind as he comes into view. Using a sleeve of his shirt, he wipes the blood off his face. His mask has been ripped off, revealing his now bare face. His nose is twisted in an unnatural manner, likely broken, and his bottom lip is swollen, the skin around it an angry shade of red.

“Behind you!” You yell, but König doesn’t react because his focus is solely on you; his attention honed on the stranger above you. König lunges at the stranger, ready to rip him off from your prone form, his intention—to tear the stranger’s head off his shoulders.

But then, in a split second, with the abruptness of a lightning strike, someone’s gun goes off, its explosive noise shattering the tranquillity, only to be replaced by a haunting hush.

König stops abruptly in his tracks, his momentum suddenly coming to a complete halt, as if ensnared by invisible chains. The world seems to slow down as you watch the light slowly start to fade from his eyes, replaced by a distant, vacant stare. His lips part slightly, an unspoken word lingering on the tip of his tongue. He wants to say something, but can’t.

His intense gaze is fixed on you. But his body, which until now stood erect and defiant, starts to collapse, crumpling slowly down to the ground—not a single word, not even the faintest whisper, manages to escape his lips before he succumbs to his inevitable fall.

The once pristine white tiles beneath you now bear the grim witness to the ever-spreading stain of dark crimson blood. The pungent, metallic smell of iron forcefully invades your senses. Your voice is choked with sorrow, and you cry out his name, once, twice, and then multiple times, each utterance more desperate than the last. Your pleas ring through the silence, but König shows no signs of movement and remains still as a statue.

Simon stands at the doorway, his gun pointed directly at König’s head, but upon realizing that a single bullet was enough and he didn’t miss, he lowers his arm and his eyes fall on you.

[cadet-songbird]

AH hiiii finding your blog at a time where I’ve suddenly become obsessed with cybertronian medical headcanons and worldbuilding is like having mana fall from the sky LOL I adore your passionate niche

Do you have any favorite, uniquely Transformer related medical headcanons or procedures? I.e. how subspace or comm system integration works with their anatomy and if it affects them when those systems are damaged, how exactly a medic would stabilize a bot that’s bleeding out and losing energon from say a gun shot wound, or even theories on critical components besides their spark or whatnot?

I’m so interested in hearing literally anything you’ve got!

WOOO! WE FOUND ANOTHER ONE

Hello, fellow human being. I love hearing from other fans that share the same interests as me :) This is the main reason I joined tumblr. Well, that and I wanted the ability to interact with Earthstellar's posts. But I digress.

I could ramble for hours on any one of these topics, but I'll restrain myself because I have homework to do. So- how does a medic stabilize a GSW victim? FYI- This is heading into headcannon-heavy waters. You're a medic on the battlefield and you're assisting a squad mate who's been blasted in the chassis. Let's say that you and your patient are no longer under fire, so you can actually start treatment.

You're looking down at your patient. They are able to talk to you in short sentences. They seem fairly coherent. Yay! Now, let's keep them that way.

Personally, I headcannon three life-saving interventions. Capping wires, sealing the spark chamber, and clamping bleeding energon lines. We also know that transformers have a core temperature of 42C (107.6F for my fellow 'muricans) so keeping our patient warm is also important to prevent hypothermia and breakdown of their natural clotting process. Mylar blankets are helpful when in the field and/or when transporting your patient.

Since this patient has a blast to the chassis, you're looking right away for any light from the spark chamber escaping. Not only is this painful for your patient to experience, but it's a fast killer. If you spot any leaking light, you'd place a temporary patch that's heat-resistant. Remember to clean the area with alcohol or another cleaner and LET IT DRY before applying the patch or sometimes it won't stick. Don't worry about how it looks. You'll worry about that later.

Next, you notice main energon lines that are leaking. You grab clamps and clamp off those lines. This is pretty straightforward. Though- make sure to give your patient pain control later because this is an intervention that hurts and will stay painful for as long as the lines are clamped. I'll attach a picture of these clamps below.

Lastly, our patient blowing up would be less than ideal so let's *not* have sparking wires around leaking energon (Which is combustable)! This step is pretty straightforward. AND GUESS WHAT

There's different caps for different sizes and kinds of wires. Kinda like human airway adjuncts are color coded.

Alrighty. Those are your first three steps in keeping your patient alive. OFC, you're nowhere near being done but these are most critical issues out of the way. After these interventions, you need to confirm that your patient has sensation, circulation, and motion in all limbs. Note any discrepancies and don't forget to document interventions.

...there ya go! Now, it's time for me to be actually productive today.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I still have so many shows to catch up on, but I could not resist starting The Sign. Idol Factory just puts on too good of a show, and I am weak for soulmate shit.

Oh good! I would hate to start with a boring sound.

The fighting does have a rehearsed quality, but for BL, it's actually pretty good! They're not having to cut away every half second.

Side note - if anyone out there is thinking of being a bad guy, helpful hint. Don't scream as you attack the cops. Kinda gives things away.

Ah, yes, that vital part of police training, where you remove safety gear to make sure you look cool when doing your moves.

Wait...Kaownah?

What are you doing here, baby!?

Oh....you're a dick.

Also, I definitely should have picked up this was all part of the training when one of them was all "eh, try the yellow wire" with the bomb diffusion, but the best clue is the hostage under the spotlight. This lighting cracks me up.

Ok, I'm a little confused about this part.

Because I rewatched the fight, and yeah, Phaya does briefly glance behind him to see the rod sticking out. But he never actually got that close to it, because of Tharn running in. How does he make this connection? Or is it just soulmate vibes?

Aww, Tharn, baby, you getting feels already.

Holy hell is this cinematography good!

Freen looks so amazing!

Omg

How is this drama so damn funny?

This woman is a queen and I love her.

Wait - they're just openly showing this on the news?! "Hey, look at this dead body everybody!".

Damn, Yai, you've never seen this man before, and yet you immediately ship.

Y'know there were a few bright shiny months in there where it seemed like the fall kiss was going to go away. And now there's both this and Middleman's Love.

Can we do an exorcism circle or something? (No shade to those of you who love them. I just really don't).

But that said, these two really have good chemistry.

Billy was good with Seng, but I think I might like him better with Babe?

I love these two little idiots.

I also love that Khem clearly watched Gameboys.

Well, this is a flirting technique I have not seen before.

Omg, not Phaya just straight going for a handful.

Billy's bringing out the horny face. Tharn is so in trouble!

I have no idea where we are going on this ride, but I am so here for it!

[wishyouloveme]

I'll always get you back.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! reader

warnings: Use of kidnapping, profiling, violence, ...uhhh my dumbass brain? I thinks that's it

A/N: I'M SO SORRY. MY MOTIVATION FOR WRITING HAS GONE KURSPLAT ON THE GROUND. I promise I'm getting there, I promise. I kind of changed how the story went, so instead of being suspected, all they know is that it could be the reader!

requested? By Anonymous, "Hi, I saw that you write for Criminal Minds? I was wondering if I could request somethin for a Spencer Reid × Reader ? Preferably where Reader is the suspected Unsub of a case the BAU is working on. Reid is the one that goes undercover with the team as backup in a social setting to try and catch Reader in the act of getting ready to commit or kidnap.

Maybe Reader is able to profile to a certain degree and instantly realizes something is off with Reid, though they aren't sure what. You can kinda take it from there if you'd like ??

Or if you need / want more ideas for a case or anything like that, I can send another ask or try to DM you about some that I might have"

story under the cut

"are you serious?"

Aaron Hotchner was obviously pissed off. The unsub had gotten away again, another body, another person dead, because his team couldn't realize that they knew who it was.

"okay, new plan! Reid, your going undercover. we know where she will be, so go to the lucky pot cassino, and get her in the act."

Aaron says, tossing Spencer a wire, and then getting into the van.

Spencer never usually dresses in a tux and a tie, but this casino won't let you in without some sort of formal wear, and he had to look respectful and respectable in order to catch this unsubs eye.

You on the other hand, were in a long black dress, and gold heels, doing one of your favorite things. People watching. You watched as a woman stumbled over her feet, obviously having had too much to drink. You watch as the man who had won it all, had re-bet, and quite quickly, lost it all. You also watched when this new guy came in. dressed in a black suit and tie, looking like he didn't belong there.

Almost automatically you could tell something was weird about him, just by the sheer uncomfortableness he seemed to have walking around the casino, and how overly nervous he seemed as well. You made a mental note of it and went on with your night.

Spencer on the other hand, had already seen you, but was still figuring out who the unsub was. All he had seen was a pretty woman in a black dress, watching him. That could mean a multitude of things.

He watched you as you walked over to the pool table, running your hand teasingly across some guy's bicep, he made a mental note of how this guy seemed to have just lost a big bet.

You leaned up close to the man, your hold tight on his bicep as you purred a few words out, running your hand back down, before walking away, the Guy following you like a lost puppy.

Spencer realized this, and was trying to decide between following you, or sitting around to try and find the unsub. He followed you, knowing very well you could have been the unsub, and he couldn't just walk away, knowing someone might get killed because he made the wrong choice.

You walk outside with the guy

"You know, I haven't had something like this happen since-"

You shut him up by smacking him over the head with the end of a gun, and he fell to the floor in a clump, and you tsked, seeing Reid in the shadows

"it always sucks when you got to make them pass out. they always talk to much" You hum.

Putting your gun back in its holster, you go to grab the guy, only to see around ten cops swarming you with guns, and you automatically let out a grunt of annoyance, lifting you hands up and sighing.

"why?" Spencer asks you, to which you just smirked.

"those who pretend to be holier then god, will soon get to meet the maker"

YAY! i hope you liked it Anon! you can send in another request if you want, or if you just wanna talk to me without reveling yourself!

I have to say legally, i did not make the Gif!

all reposts and comments are welcome!

[origami-butterfly]

Uhhh headcanons about Oscar?

YAY AN OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT MY BELOVED!!! Uhhh... some of this has potential to be triggering? Maybe? Uh.. mentions of religious trauma and mentions of intrusive thoughts, so I'm putting it under a cut (also people are probably not that interested in my thoughts about this gayass priest)

- He's greyromantic and ace (and in love with Arthur, obviously)

- The way he shows his love is very similar to worship, because it's what he's been taught by priests growing up

- Adding onto that, his wires are crossed, meaning he mixes fear and love because the Catholic Church teaches that to love God is to fear him. (Also based on what he says in 36, I think the priests would be like that as well)

- Sometimes priests double as organists! I think Oscar would have some basic musical training, enough to play chords and a melody during worship (him and Arthur should duet...)

- Re: the previous one, I think he would've hated lessons, and hates playing in services because there's people around, but loved playing pieces he liked, by himself.

- He has coeliac disease. I don't know where I got this hc, it came to me in a vision. (My church solely uses gluten free bread so perhaps it cane from there)

- He wears glasses. Square frame ones specifically.

- The worst churches always tell young people right from the start, that they are imperfect and therefore unworthy of God's love, the only person who could be is Jesus, and given what we know about Father McKenna, I'm think Oscar would be raised that way, so he's constantly striving for perfection to the point of obsession.

- HOWEVER, he does not preach the same thing in his church! I think he's the type to try and fix the system from the inside, and teaches the young at his church that they are good enough for God, that he loves them even though they sin.

- He gets bad intrusive thoughts. Because Christianity (and Catholicism especially) is deeply obsessed with purity, he'd try to repress them more and it would only get worse. Maybe taking a hammer to father mckenna was the catalyst for them. (When he falls for Arthur, he's convinced it's an "evil thought" and believes repressing it would make it stop, he's convinced he's condemned to hell.)

- Oscar fiddles with his rosary beads when he thinks about Arthur, so to an outsider it looks like he's praying, but actually he's thinking about someone else... there's a link to the commandment "have no other gods but me" to be made here, but it's late and I can't think of it.

- He's soooo huggable, he loves physical contact.

[redheadspark]

characters who’ve been married for years falling in love all over again with oliver wood please 💞

A/N - YAY! Oliver Wood for the win with this request! Thank you or requesting, anon!

Once Again

Summary - Attending a friend's wedding brings out old memories for you and your husband

Warnings - Just some magical fluff for our Quidditch Captain!

"And now it's time for the first dance of our newly weds! Please welcome up to the floor, Mr. and Mrs. George Weasley!"

The married couple walked over to the center of dance floor under the massive tent, the rest of the guests stopping their chatter with each other at their tables to watch as a soft melody was playing over the top of their heads. Molly Weasley, with Misty eyes and a grin on her face, flicked her wand and the lights were dimmed to set the midd as her son and her daughter-in-law started to sway together. It was a romantic site for certain, a site of new things to come and a great future ahead for all in attendance.

The first great thing to happen right after the war and the defeat of Voldermort.

Towards the back of the cluster of tables, at the Quidditch table with the older teammates of the newlywed couples, was Oliver Wood in his kilt and tie and a soft smile on his lips. Watching his two friends tie the knot (Finally, in his opinion) was a the highlight of the year for him, even more so than be promoted to being a starter at Puddlemore United.

Oliver knew that both Angelina and George wanted and desired a normal life after all they went through at the Battle of Hogwarts, even with the loss fo Fred Weasley and plenty of others at the hands of Death Eaters. Everyone wanted to forget the pain and the grief that they have had to endure for months after, and once they all got the invitations to this wedding, it was a pure sign of hope.

So he sat with Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, Dean Thomas, and a few others while the first dance was being held, his eyes started to wander from the wedding couple to the others that were watching. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were watching with massive smiles and tears on their faces, snuggled together at their own table with Angelina's parents who were just as moved. Harry Potter and his wife Ginny Weasley were sitting with Hermione and Ron Weasley over at the side near the Bridal table, wrapped in each other's arms. Even Hagrid and Professor Magonagall were there too, just a touched at the sight. But one person did catch Oliver's eyes, over near the opening of the tent and out next to the massive field that was perched in front of the Weasley's home.

You, Oliver's wife of 3 years.

Your wedding was a bit different from this one, it wasn't even a wedding really. It was a secret union that was during the dark times of the Death Eater's roaming the countryside and Voldemort taking over the Ministry of Magic. You were more worried about being discovered since you were a Half-Blood, hearing stories of others being taken from their homes in the dead of night and never being seen again.

Oliver swore to you he would protect you, but he too was just as worried since you both were already living together right out of graduating Hogwarts. You were already planning on getting married anyways, but since time was not on your side and Oliver was beyond wired you were going to be taken, you two were married by a muggle priest in the dead of night at a local church, both of your parents being witnesses.

Now that the war was over, Oliver made a promise to himself he would give you a proper wedding.

He got up from his chair was the song was still playing, the audience cooing as George gave Angelina a twirl while Oliver moved along the back of the tent to not make a seen. HIs eyes were on you though, dressed in deep red gown and you hair in a delicate bun. One hand was bracing a pillar that was up next to you, which was other was on your stomach.

Your stomach with a very slight belly evident.

"Honey, you okay?" Oliver asked as he approached you. You nodded while he slipped an arm around your waist.

"I'm alright, Oli. I just needed to walk around is all," You reassured him. Oliver hummed, knowing you wouldn't lie to him as you both were watching the dance come to an end. You leaned back against him, his head connecting to your as you grinned.

"Took them long enough to get together," You murmured.

"Aye, the boys and I had a bet on how long it'll take for them to be married," Oliver whispered, you giggled and swatting his arm.

"That's horrible," You scolded, though you were grinning.

"What, you weren't thinkin' the same?" Oliver challenged. You just gave him a playful glare as the guest clapped. George and Angelina still held each other as the rest of the guests walked onto the floor to join them, another song being played and the lights coming back up.

"Wanna dance?" You asked Oliver, but his arm around your waist was a bit tighter then as he shook his head.

"Not yet, luv. I wanna just stand here, with ya." Oliver explained, you were about to ask him if he was alright when his hand slightly touched your lower stomach. You paused, feeling the tenderness of his fingers against the fabric of your dress and how gentle he was in that moment.

It was still a secret for you two when you found out you were pregnant, something you wanted to keep to yourselves for a little bit more before you would tell anyone. Especially at this wedding, this was meant for George an Angelina. Oliver was over the moon when you told him after your doctors appointment, wishing he could tell everyone about it. Yet you both decided to wait a few more weeks until things were cooled down.

"I owe you a weddin'," Oliver reassured you as your classmates were dancing together on the floor, "A proper one at that,"

"We had a wedding," You reminded him, "And although it wasn't ideal, I'm glad we got married when we did."

"Even during a war?" Oliver asked, you looked over your shoulder at him as he was giving you a pensive stare. You had to smile at him, moving to face him and wrap your arms around his neck while his own arms slipped around your waist with ease.

"Even during a war, in a cellar, with our parents there. It was perfect, Oliver," You promised him, you both taking in a moment to be in your own little world as the wedding was still going on. Oliver loved holding you like this, and he would whenever he could.

It made him remember you two being together in your days at Hogwarts as students. Oliver was never girl crazy in his earlier years, up until you came along in your fourth year. He thought of you as smart, one of the best Gryffindors in your year when it came to Potions and giving Snape a run for his money. Oliver had no idea why you both never got together sooner since you were both the same year, but once you starting dating, he was a goner. You were snarky, always keeping Oliver on his toes with your comments and humor, incredibly sympathetic and fierce with younger students, and would come to every game Oliver played as the Quidditch Captain.

He's heard stories on what falling in love would do to a man, but he thought he would have that himself. But he did, thanks to you.

Now, so many years later and with a few years of marriage under your belts and a little one on a way, Oliver was still finding himself utterly in love with you. You both were hiding with his parents when Muggle Borns were disappearing, never doubting your choice of being married for a second since you both knew that surviving that dark time alone was no option. Even when you both were called to defend the school from Voldermort and his followers, Oliver was hesitant to have you go. Yet you grabbed your wand, took his hand in yours and gave him a hard look.

"We go together, Oliver." You reminded him.

"I love you," Oliver hummed as you both were hugging, swaying to your own music as the breeze from the field was coming through the open tent. The rest of the wedding was going on, paying you two no mind as you grinned against his chest.

"I love you too, Oli," You said back to him, "Always have, and always will,"

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox

Valentine's Prompt Session

[firstdivisiongirl]

(Killer x Reader) That One Friend

My sister (who refuses to get a tumblr) put in a request. For a Killer x reader. Where the reader is a random hilarious Kid Pirate who gets together with Killer.

There is a fun little back story to this. My sister, who is not a huge one piece fan, loves Killer (her favorite boy), Kid, and Bepo (her overall favorite). We were talking one day about what rules we would be in One Piece on a crew. I’d be a swordswoman (obviously). She would be that random Pirate that is somehow alive and there to make sarcastic and random comments. Thus, we created the random Kid Pirate. So I thought I’d make the reader that random Pirate. I might make a little series out of this.

Warning: so much fluff. It’s so fluffy I’m going to die

Word count: 622

Everyone has that one friend.  That one friend who you don’t understand why or how they entered your life.  Killer had those thoughts about you A LOT.  The Kid Pirates met  you up on Sabaody Archipelago.  You were merely stopping on the island before you took your “solo show” into the new world.  Kid saw you, said you seemed cool and asked you to join.  You said yes obviously.  You were now a member, who seemed to be there anytime a joke or sarcastic comment was needed.  You were so notorious for this that the name on your wanted poster literally said “That Random Kid Pirate Y/N”. That’s what made Killer so intrigued, how did someone who seemed to suck at being a pirate get this far without drowning or pissing off the wrong person.  He called you cockroach because no matter what happened, you somehow came out alive.  

His thoughts were interrupted when you walked in, “What’s up Killer?  Don’t think too hard.  You don’t want to fry your brain like Kid.”  In the background, Killer could hear his beloved captain yelling shut up.  “No one asked you Kid,” you yelled back at the captain.  Killer couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Anyways Killer, can you help clean the dishes?  You idiots eat way too much and if I do it by myself I’ll be cleaning till I’m at least 600.”

“I’ll help, don't worry cockroach.”

“Yay.  This is why you’re my favorite!”

If Killer didn’t have his mask on, you’d see he was blushing.  He had started to like you after you had drawn on Kid’s face after he got blackout drunk celebrating your birthday.  He loved how brave you were and how weird you were. He loved everything about you.  

The two of you walked into the kitchen and finished the dishes after about 3 hours (I know but these guys are huge).  The whole time he watched you as you carefully set down each plate after drying them making sure your clumsiness didn’t cause you to drop or knock any over.  

You two walked out of the kitchen and onto the main deck.  It was night time.  The sky was beautiful, it was a dark blue and covered in stars that reflected on the calm ocean.  

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said staring at the sky.

“You sure are,” Killer said looking at you.  He could see the reflection of the sky in your E/C orbs.

“Is that the best line you got Killer?  I know you like meee but you could do so much better.”

Killer was shocked.  How did you know?  Was he that obvious?  Did Kid tell you?

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“2 years, 5 months, 2 days, and 22 hours. For a guy who wears a mask to hide his face, you aren’t good at hiding emotions apparently.”

Killer laughed.  That was the person he loved.  Still as weird and random as ever.

You walked up to him and kissed the spot on the mask where his mouth would be.  Again he blushed under the mask and you laughed a little.

“I like you too Killer,” you told him as you walked away heading to your room, “just to let you know now that we are dating, I expect a nice gift on my birthday.”

Killer was officially on cloud nine.  Until someone burst his bubble, “Took you two long enough,” Kid said from the crows nest, “I've been betting on this for months.  I thought I was going to lose money to Heat and Wire on this.”

Killer smiled.  At least there were three of you happy about this newfound relationship.  And two who probably weren’t.

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[toastthewolfie]

thinking a bit more abt alicia

(note: this’ll probably be updated but ive been working on this for a while and just want it to be DONE. Also i have NOT spellchecked this so apologies for any mistypes or incorrectly spelled word's (and grammar), but i am happy with it right now so here :3)

Small Overview: Alica ‘Cheetah’ Norris is my rainbow 6 siege oc. She’s a three speed one armor attacker and her ‘skill’ is a dart gun (the darts have a agent in them that causes temporary paralysis)

Small information thing that i dunno how to title: She’s 5’6, uses she/they, and is mixed (Latina/white, but she grew up in a mostly white American family so she’s not really in touch with her heritage).

Weapons: unsure what weapon she’s gonna use specifically but probably an assault riffle of some sort. Extremely unsure on secondary and gadgets (though probably flashbangs or frags)

rest under the tags bc LENGTH

Background/Past Experience Revamp: as ive said before, she’s a hostage negotiator. Except im changing her background quite a bit (she was part of the American ATF as a field agent before becoming a hostage negotiator but upon further research, she was part of SWAT (after a few years of being a patrol officer) after failing to get into the FBI and, despite how many of her instructors viewed her as mildly incapable due to ✨crippling anxiety✨(shes just like me fr), she managed to prove that she was in fact highly competent and able to defuse situations without too much training prior hence how she became a hostage negotiator at the age of 25 (shes older now so yay (EDIT: was reading over it and noticed i put 35 instead of 25 so sorry about that!)) and, despite not being military fbi, her skills on the field caught Rainbow’s attention, hence how she got in).

(fun fact: most of her scars actually come from setting up barbed wire, she hasnt had a lot of experience with it so she ended up cutting up her hands and lower arms when trying to learn it.)

Personality Revamp: While she’s still incredibly anxious, I’ve made her way more capable on the field. While off the field, she’s quite literally the definition of a ball of anxiety with legs, on the field the adrenaline steadies her nerves and throws her into the correct headspace to fight, though it’s kind of like a light switch. One moment she’s quietly freaking out and the next she appears completely calm and is talking strategy.

Counters: i dunno why ive just been thinking about this quite a bit 😭 Kure - I mean. She operates 2 robots. Im not an expert on robotics (far from it, i literally want to become an air traffic controller DO NOT QUOTE ME ON ANYTHING I YAP ABT) but im pretty sure that they’d be immune to a dart of paralytic fluid (unless maybe Alicia hits it in the right spot, and even then it’d be damaging the actual robot). Doc - Kind of in the sense that his stim pistol can reduce the affect of the dart (especially on himself) but im not 100% on this yet. Fenrir - This is more ‘lore’ based than game based but I imagine that Fenrir’s dread mines affect Alicia’s performance (aka exacerbating her already present anxiety). I was thinking about it and thought that the idea of Alicia nerfing herself via failed reloads would be really interesting! And then the idea that Fenrir’s dread mines (since they affect the mind for a short period of time) exist, what if Alicia has a chance of failing a reload while in the affected area, the chance increasing the longer one spends in the area.

Relationships: (Alicia is AroAce so none of these are romantic :3) Quite literally terrified of 90% of people on base. Most notably all the Russians, Zero, and Ash. She’s friendly with Blitz and Mozzie and acquainted with Fenrir (mostly due the fact that she has enough confidence in his loyalty to Rainbow) and Doc as she’s part of Wolfguard and likes being semi-acquainted with her team leader. (She is trying to expand the amount of people she’s acquainted with but it’s kinda hard when you’re scared of most everyone.)

Backstory: Okaaay Alicia’s backstory wasn’t really defined in the past but since my writing skills are better now, im working on it a bit more :D

Alicia was adopted by her parents (she doesn’t know her bioparents nor does she have any real interest in finding them) when she was 4. Her parents, however, were killed in a hit-and-run incident when she was 12, her aunt (Aurelia Norris)) then took custody of her (fun fact: both Aurelia and Alicia have poliosis!).

At the age of 18, she went into college for a degree in criminal psychology. After receiving her degree, alicia applied to her local police department (and the FBI but she was rejected, obviously), managed to become a patrol officer, and eventually joined SWAT where she proved her ability to defuse hostage situations in a pinch (despite almost everyone not believing it due to the fact that alicia was incredibly jumpy and panicky) hence her promotion of sorts to a crisis negotiator (that mostly focuses on hostage situations).

at the age of 32, she caught the attention of a few rainbow recruiters and after a bit of digging, she wasn’t considered for recruitment. It was only a year later when Rainbow was working with her unit and they finally got to see her operate, hence how she, after being recommended by her commanding officers, ended up in Rainbow.

Of course, there was a very large gap between her and the others as she was a crisis negotiator from a random ass town in who the fuck knows where (not me, thats for sure) America while these guys are the best of the best of their respective militaries (She does always try to keep up but she’s still a little behind on a few things) and that combined with her anxiety around change and these new people just kinda left her as a outsider (not that she really minded. It hurt sometimes, sure, but she already didnt talk a lot so..).

Callsign: Alicia got her callsign (Cheetah) from her speed, mostly. Cheetahs, while fast, are incredibly anxious, hence why people thought it was a good idea. Alicia hasnt really ever had a callsign so she just kinda rolled with it because what else was she to do. (She’s still not the most experienced with military culture and whatnot)

[ravinoforre]

Eye operation was a success! Right now I have a big black orb thingy in vision of my right eye but i'm told that's normal and should disappear at some point. Wearing my glasses again but it still feels weird to see out of them and i do feel a little woozy, but i'm otherwise fine.

The hospital stuff was sorta neat? At least, the parts where they were hooking me up with wires and a blanket and wheeling me around in the bed. The waiting before the surgery sucked ass though, and it started later than it was scheduled.

I was told the day before that I wouldn't be going under completely but when I finally got into the surgery room itself they gave me a choice so i asked for the full sleep. 3 puffs and I was out. Fun! Waking up I was actually surprised how lucid I felt, I was able to understand what the surgeons were telling me and able to speak back clearly (relevant side note; i live and work in France, but French is not my first language and i can sometimes still struggle with the barrier).

Was sent home the same day so at least I got to sleep in my own bed. Not allowed pillows for 2 nights though. And I have to sleep on my left side (unfortunately that's the side that hurts if I sleep on it too long, yay), but I have just over a month off work now to recover. And a whole bunch of eye drops to administer several times a day for a while.

[eponadolls]

Yay, Basement Floods

tl;dr: massive rain (4" in about two hours) resulted in my basement pump dying, so water started to flood into my basement because I live in a former swamp + the creek water also ended up backing up into my basement, resulting in close to 8" water of a horrific swamp water basement indoor pool.

Last night I heard an "odd" sound that I thought was the train, but the whistling was... different. I was couldn't hear my basement sump pump running, it was eerily quiet.

So I checked my basement and I was not prepared to see how bad it was.

We had about 8" of water, standing still in my basement, a horrible trickle of water coming in, and the whistling that - presumably - because my furnace. The water was rising dangerously close to my basement equipment, specifically in regards to my furnace and water heater. My first step was under water and I was proverbially shitting my pants because clearly my pump had died, and I wasn't sure if there was any live wires in the water.

We managed to shut of the power to my entire house starting at about 11PM at night, we got several pumps running outside that were pumping the water, slowly but surely, out of my basement. At nearly two hours of trying to figure some stuff out, it was set up so we just had to wait. I could hardly sleep, but around 2AM, I could finally see my basement floor. It was still very wet, but you could walk on it without soaking your shoes.

...Luckily, it seems the basement equipment - while close to being destroyed by the rising water levels - are working as intended. We have a lot of fans trying to dry out the basement right now. And, thankfully, it's creek water and not, say, sewer water so there's that silver lining, I guess.

The water got high enough that a lot of the things we had stored in plastic bins started floating - even oddly heavy bins - and a lot of them tipped over. We have a lot of waterlogged, damaged goods, and I'm just... really tired. We tried to salvage as much as we could, but I lost a number of sentimental, irreplaceable items which is very... tiring. Additionally, several items we thought where in my partner's military box where, in fact, not, so a lot of anime dvds, manga, and video games got wet. How damaged they will totally be remains to be seen.

The pump in my basement was replaced and I'm finishing up what I can clean and manage today and hopefully everything will be finished tomorrow, I think I'm going to see if I can get a clothing line hung in my garage to help since I have a small dryer, but we're getting more rain tonight - I don't know how much - and I'm really not looking forward to the incoming storm.

It could have been a lot worse, a lot of the clothing I've since called a loss I was hoping to donate, but it also makes me so sad since... I really wanted to donate it to a family shelter or something. I was hoping to go through it in about a week before I have my wisdom tooth surgery.

Just a vent post. I might delete this later. The basement was never really even flooded before, just occasionally a wet floor, but with climate change, more severe weather is going to become more and more commonplace and next time might not have as fortunate of a ending. I just really wish I didn't have several ruined yearbooks (which I didn't realize got tossed down there). :(

[qvietspvce]

i have lots of complicated feelings about it being a labour government in charge now. firstly, yay! no more fucking tories. secondly, ah shit. we have a tory in a red tie in charge.

on the upside, there isn't a single tory nor reform seat in wales which is fucking fantastic news overall. but i'd like to see more plaid cymru seats in the future.

honestly i think the uk could do with compulsory voting and ranked choice voting like australia because 50 something percent voter turn out on average is fucking awful (although that figure is currently unconfirmed) and the fact that labour won the most seats with only 36% of the votes? that's pretty fucking horrendous too.

anyway, i've got to get my life documents sorted before the new government starts making my life harder as a trans person so i'm doing a lot of phone calls and emails today. fingers crossed i can get everything in under the wire.

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

for the 2023 in review ask game

1, 18, 23

Yay, thanks for the ask!! <3 (2023 in review ask game)

one. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

I never thought I'd write about Garak dying in a fic because it makes me too sad to even consider, so that was a new thing for sure. As for how it turned out, the fic ended up amazing tbh (Julian goes full mad scientist and brings him back to life). <3 But I also don't plan to write that particular scenario again lmao. Anyway, the fic in question is save me from the dark (The Wire AU).

In terms of craft rather than content, in nothing to hide (holo!siskarak OMB AU) I used the format of switching back and forth between a series of flashbacks and a conversation about the events in those flashbacks to great effect. I managed to avoid writing all of the tedious descriptions of how characters got from point A to point B, as well as the rehashings of an episode everyone knows by heart, and ALSO skip over the gaps in the dialogue I didn't know how to bridge seamlessly. Felt like such a lifehack when I realized I could structure the fic that way. It won't work for everything, but I really am gonna try to apply what I learned from that experience to writing future fics.

18. What was the hardest fic to title?

home is wherever I’m with you (post-Second Skin garak exile angst + garashir first time). Pretty sure that I had that fic written and postable like weeks to a month before I had a title for it, like, that was the ONLY hold up. And I'm still not fully satisfied with that title tbh, but it's Fine.

23. Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out?

Hmm. One kind and helpful thing that my brain does for me is that I immediately forget all the details of the parts that I struggled to write and/or was not happy with, once I've posted the fic. XD

(I just went back into a fic to try to quickly find a part I struggled with and ended up making minor wording tweaks and typo fixes throughout the whole fic, so at least I can definitively answer the "Are you happy with how it turned out?" part of this question with a resounding "ALMOST, but not entirely," which is basically applicable to every sentence I've ever written+posted lol!)

Anyway, here's some sentences from a section of the world will never take my heart (In Purgatory's Shadow/By Inferno's Light whumpy hurt/comfort) that I def struggled with:

Julian presses his cheek hard against Garak’s shoulder and greasy tufts of his hair brush the side of Garak’s chin. Under the sharp smell of his blood, there’s an additional sourness that makes it clear that Julian hasn’t had a chance to wash up since his stint in solitary, but Garak doesn’t even consider pulling away.

This bit in the first draft was originally much more focused on Garak enjoying the feeling of having Julian in his arms but I changed that (upon your excellent and much appreciated suggestions, stuffedtiger! <3) in order to better fit the tone that I was going for. I do think it still reads romantic but at least now the romance is not the focus, the focus is more towards the horrible situation they're in.

[m1st1x]

RUIN Theory! - Escape Plans

Spoilers for all of the RUIN dlc. Buckle up, I’m about to make a controversial theory that no one here will be happy about. …yay. You might’ve heard someone else mention the idea, but I am ready to try and sell it to you.

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Ok, I want you to hear me out. What if Security Breach never happened? The idea was first planted into my head by Matpat during on of the GTLive play throughs of RUIN, and since then, a few connections have been made. I just want to share what I think could make this theory make sense.

So first, I decided to look at the Glamrock’s shattered and ruined designs to compare, and I noticed a few little details. One is that Freddy still has the present. Now this could be because he’s the prototype, but I’m not going to immediately write it off because of that. Another thing that everyone noticed is Roxy’s face—it’s completely different, and it has those ports which I assumed are how the eyes attach (but even then, how would they rotate properly? It doesn’t really make sense). Thirdly, Monty didn’t have a sternum piece before RUIN. In Security Breach, there’s just a hole there. And, his tail wires are longer in RUIN, not to mention the fact that they’re bound with cable ties. Given how he acts, I don’t think he would have the insight to install one himself. He also wouldn’t be able to reach back there to tie all of those messy wires up, especially not with how good it looks. So unless someone came down there to fix some of them, I can’t see how they would end up like that. Chica doesn’t seem to have any discrepancies though—there’s nothing that was lost that she now has from what I can see. (Side note: I noticed Monty has a gold tooth, which reminded me of Foxy, specifically the Golden AR plush whose description was “I guess he replaced more than his teeth.” It just struck me as odd.)

Then I looked at and thought about the comic pages. They’re all in fairly random places, but the page with the Burntrap ending is down in one of the rooms with the burners. That’s odd, right? How would Gregory have gotten down there to drop it off? How would he have known about both Burntrap and the Blob? And why is that ending not shown as comic pages in Security Breach? (Who collected those pages and put them together?)

Then I had an idea. People pretty much agree that Vanessa is Vanny, and the theory that Gregory is GGY, or Dr. Rabbit, is out there even if we don’t have too much information to back it. This would mean both are under Glitchtrap’s control, or are at least on his side. What if Gregory (or the Crying Child, if you’ll accept that theory) drew those while being stuck in the Pizzaplex? Like the kind parts of him broke through, whether that be because of a spirit or not, and he sort of fantasized. I know it sounds like a stretch, but hold on. Kids fantasize, especially kids that are being abused. They make up scenarios where they do things that they aren’t able to do, and sometimes the ideas are put onto paper. I mean Gregory has got to have seen all the animatronics while he’s there, and he’s probably got the processing power to figure out how the animatronics would break when faced with certain factors, even if he wasn’t completely right or knowing of how they all looked underneath their suit. He’d also probably be pretty angry at the whole place, except maybe that one character that he really liked for whatever reason—Freddy. He would even know about the animatronic in the basement, which explains why he said that it was trapped down there for a long time and why he knew about the MXES security program. He could’ve even been partially behind it. He’s also probably seen the Blob and Burntrap during his time there, and I’d imagine he hates Burntrap more than most. He knows what he’s done, who he was made by, and/or what he was made for. He’d probably have some beef, so it would make sense why that ending would look better than the others. It’s the one he wants to happen the most. All the animatronics are shattered, the building collapses, and Burntrap dies.

I can hear the questions—but what about the bad endings? Why would Gregory fantasize about those? You have to remember, he’s not stupid (and is he’s a robot, he would be more logical anyways). He would know that Vanny would be sent to find him if he just ran, maybe it even happened once or twice already, and he would know the map of the building, so he’d know the best door to leave from. The Burntrap ending is the only one where we don’t see them actually leave, so they might’ve not even made it in that scenario. It is only that—a scenario. A stupid idea, but it could happen. And even if that isn’t the case, our minds go down bad paths all the time, even if we don’t want them to.

Maybe one of those comics was a plan to try and escape, but something else ultimately ended up happening. Vanessa is with him in the cutout/Brazil ending, so they could’ve escaped together. Maybe with the help of Helpy. It would probably be the most similar to the Princess Quest ending then, with Gregory helping Vanessa snap out of it. This theory would even make sense for why he dropped the elevator (you know, if he was the one who dropped it). “We can’t risk being followed,” he says. That could be talking about him, Vanessa, and/or Charlie/Elizabeth if they’re in the same body, and I understand why he would do anything—even sacrifice a friend—to not go back. To not be found again. The missing posters could’ve been put up by the one controlling (or trying to control) them, which would force them to stay in hiding, leaving Cassie wondering where he went. I’m not sure how they became friends in the first place, but my best guess is that Cassie visited the Plex often, Roxy says that he came for her birthday twice, and they met at some point.

For the Glamrock Freddy backpack near the MXES machine, I believe it’s Gregory’s. He might’ve dropped it on his haste to get out of there, or couldn’t come back to get it when the plan was in motion. And something I did find odd during the normal ending is that the speaker seems to cut out. It has a ringing sound to cut in, and that same noise occurs before Gregory says “it’s not your fault,” and drops the elevator. A popular theory is that it was that animatronic in the basement the whole time, which although I’m not completely with, I feel like it could have some plausibility.

EDIT: there’s “He was our superstar” in yellow graffiti in the beginning, which I feel could either be referencing Gregory, Glamrock Freddy, or even Glamrock Bonnie.

EDIT II: when you’re in the daycare attendant’s room in AR, you can see Roxy, Chica, and Monty in a playhouse, with Roxy being front and center. Sun and Moon sit on a table on opposite sides, kind of overlooking the scene. Moon looks a bit ostracized though, and Freddy is absent from what I’ve seen. The glitch Eclipse/Sun is on the ceiling. Could this be a notion to Freddy being not very liked by the other animatronics, or him not being under the glitch’s hold? It might explain why the prototype doesn’t even show up in AR mode.

EDIT III: I forgot to even mention Gregory’s attitude in the games. He HATES the animatronics, and I feel there’s less fear than there should be. He’s definitely scared for his life, but that isn’t really shown in his actions. He shatters all three without remorse, only caring about Freddy. Meanwhile, Cassie is nice and sympathetic towards them.

EDIT IV: I just realized that the backpack is next to a hole in the wall that Gregory could’ve definitely fit in.

EDIT V: Monty’s endo coloring. In the shattered design, his endo is all this dark grey color, but in the RUIN design, parts of it—namely his jaw and chest—are tan colored. It isn’t the right color for rust, and there aren’t any parts that color in the other animatronics. (You can see the jaw hinge in shattered Monty. It’s definitely that grey, not bronze.)

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

"I neeed to creaaaate". But first I must gather.

One of the biggest hurdles to creating things with my hands is the process of gathering supplies. It saps me of the motivation to actually do the thing the supplies are for.

The reasons behind this are probably ADHD and dopamine related, but that's for another post.

But yesterday I had a revelation.

looong post with images under the cut!

TL;DR Make baskets or boxes that have all the supplies you will need for a single type of project, so they can just be picked up and used.

So we all know that being organized can make things easier. But when the ADHD strikes, no amount of organizing can solve the issue completely.

Case in point. All of my art supplies are organized by type. All of the alcohol markers, felt tip markers, fine liners, colored pencils, regular pencils, brush tip pens, pastels, etc are mostly on one shelf (frequently used are in a desktop carousel), all of the paper is organized by type: card stock, (further organized by plain, textured, or patterned, and all are color sorted, etc) blank printer paper, origami paper, velum. Below that are the notebook/pad style art papers, watercolor, sketch, bristol, plus canvases, and sheets of watercolor paper. All adhesives are in one drawer. There is a "idk where the fuck this belongs" drawer with those odds and ends that are important but solo in their class. There are magzine holders full of journals and sketchbooks, reference books

blahblahblah

(those totes in the left cube are not transparent. the table reflection makes them look that way though)

Great! Yay! Hooray! You can find what you need pretty quickly!

:|

Yes. But.

Art making and crafting isn't a mono medium. You see posts that say things like "all you need is a pencil and paper!" and sure yes, that's technically true. However my brain fills in with ....and an eraser, and you need a flat surface, and the paper has to be the right kind, the right size, what kind of sketch is this? what hardness of pencil do you need? Is there enough light in the room? Do you need references?

(yes I even torment myself with the "well akshully" stuff)

The art I make is rife with "parts", like painting (paints, palette, water, brushes, paper towels, surface to be painted on, apron) collage (base medium/substrate, image sources, adhesives for different types of paper, scissors, craft blade) sewing (fabric, shears, needles, thread, buttons, elastic, zippers, velcro, hook and eyes, snaps, ribbon, lace...) , etc.

(I do have most of the printmaking stuff in one container so that's a start...)

what's that saying about how a messy desk is the sign of a creative person?

The process of "shopping" my shelves for what is needed seems to derail any motivation. It feels like maybe my brain is happy with the idea of creating, and that's good enough. Like gathering the stuff is the goal, and having satisfied that, my brain dumps dopamine all over. Which is way less than ideal. (I am very guilty of the "I thought about doing it and am just as satisfied as if I had done it." thing. It's awful.)

SO. Then yesterday, while looking for something else, I came across a wire basket full of the supplies I had gathered to do a sewing project in bed, and I thought, that was so smart. how handy.

And I realized that I could do that with ALL of my supplies! Or at least, make up some project baskets with everything one would need to do that thing, all ready to go. So when an idea comes to mind I can just grab the basket and sit down for some art time, instead of chipping away at the urge one shelf at a time.

I sort of did this with a tackle box style of art tote, and a bunch of collage images, pens, and stickers, but it's not quite there.

(pictured: a halfassed unintentional attempt at this idea. plus a bunch of scraps that were pissing me off and got tossed in "rage")

It will be great for those times when the urge to make something comes up, but not a specific thing, just that "I neeed to creaaaate" blinking neon sign that can be so fleeting. Grab a basket and satisfy the need without distracting faffing about.

Obviously I'm not the first one to ever do this, and pre-school teachers are probably giggling at me for only just now thinking of this, but hey. We all learn at different speeds :p

(Oh, and I promise the fabric and desk will be at least a little bit less messy this weekend :3 )

[indelibleevidence]

The Part that Needs to Die (Jeller tag to 3x19, angst)

Author's Note: I'm horizontal today, so I wrote this in the Tumblr post editor, which means I lived dangerously - I've lost Tumblr drafts before! But if you can see this, it posted, yay! It's unedited as of yet, so apologies for any repetitive or confusing stuff. I haven't posted it on the archive sites yet. Also, apologies for not putting it under a cut - wish the app had a button for that. I know there's a way to do it without a button, but I can never get it to work.

*

Kurt woke to an empty bed, and frowned into the darkness. Listening to the silence for a moment, he detected no sounds of movement or hushed conversation that would mean Avery was also awake. That meant Jane's insomnia was flaring up again.

He took a moment to fight off the sleepiness that wanted to drag him back to oblivion, then sat up and went to find her. If she wanted to be alone, he'd come back to bed. But he knew how lonely and depressing the middle of the night could be, when all you wanted was to sleep, leaving the anxiety of waking hours behind.

A single, dim lamp illuminated the living room. Jane was sitting on the couch, both legs drawn up to her chest. She lifted her chin from her knees as she registered his presence, attempting a rueful smile that didn't touch her eyes.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Several feet from the couch, Kurt hesitated. "Want me to go back to bed?"

They were still on shaky enough ground that he wasn't sure what the answer would be - Avery was a new addition to their household, but every time he glanced up and saw her, a tiny part of him still instinctively curled into guilt and despair at the way he and Jane had almost imploded. It would take a little more time for that wound to heal.

Jane gestured for him to sit, and leaned into his side the moment he was settled. That was enough reassurance for him to wrap his arms around her.

He didn't try to prompt her into sharing her burden, already knowing it was Roman on her mind. If she wanted to talk, she would. They'd always had that kind of relationship. Maybe it was because of the way they'd met, with him listening to everything she said - first, to find clues to her case, and then also because he wanted to be there for Taylor.

Whether she chose to share was another issue entirely. But he'd learned the night he'd arrested her what could go wrong, if he refused to listen. Looking upon her faintly bruised wrists, as she'd submitted to be cuffed a second time, in the motel hallway, he'd vowed that no matter how much he resented her, he'd never again silence what she needed to say to him.

Not that every moment was as critical as the one time he'd shouted her down. Most of the time, he genuinely wanted to hear what was on her mind.

"I was too hard on Roman."

Even when what was on her mind made no sense. "Jane, he'd just killed our only potential lead to what Crawford's planning. He wasn't going to switch back, no matter what you said."

She sighed. "Not yesterday. I meant in Croatia."

Jane had been wired up during her undercover encounter with Roman, so Kurt had heard every word the siblings had exchanged. "Sure, you were harsh. But after what he's done, he deserved every word."

"I killed the part of him that hoped we could reconcile."

"You really think that part of him wasn't already gone?" Kurt kissed the top of her head. "Jane, this whole time, he's been trying to hurt you. The Crawford case is just a vehicle for his grudge against you."

She shook her head, withdrawing from the embrace so that she could meet his eyes. "No. The Crawford case was the only way Romsan could think to engage with us, now. He worked with us on the Sandstorm case, and as awful as it was for him while he was ZIPped, we were grateful for his help, and it made him feel like he was a part of something good. Until he got his memories back."

She wilted a little at her own memory of that night, and Kurt felt his own regrets surface. If they hadn't lied to him back then, about who'd given him the ZIP, would anything be different? Would Roman have come around, or would they have been in the dark until Shepherd had enacted Phase Two?

Those questions would never have answers. Kurt set them aside, focusing on his wife. "Roman chose Shepherd over us. And he even told us that he wanted to make us suffer."

Jane shrugged sadly. "First I took away Remi, then I took away his memories and his freedom, and then I took away Shepherd. Roman has reasons to hate me. But he has reasons to love me, too. The way I fought to keep him safe from Pellington. And even though I did a terrible thing by wiping his memory, I also gave him a different perspective of law enforcement, showing him the good that we do. He understands why I am the way I am now, because I made him go through that, too. Those kids he helped save - he felt so proud of that. So part of him regrets going with Shepherd. I don't even know if he remembered what Phase Two was all about, when she broke him out of his cell."

Kurt had lived almost his entire life with a part of himself that did just what Jane was doing now - the part Remi and Shepherd had so ruthlessly exploited. The part that desperately wanted to believe that his father hadn't killed Taylor, that had come up with countless ideas for alternate explanations for his father's flimsy alibi, for the muddy shoes, for his descent into alcoholism after Taylor's disappearance.

Kurt recognised that same instinct in Jane, and he loved her for it - as he had told her back when she'd tried dating Oliver, her ability to see the best in people was one of his favourite things about her. But in Roman's case, it was also the one thing most likely to rip her apart.

"Jane, he made his choices. He knew he couldn't just walk back his involvement in the DC attack, even if he didn't realise how catastrophic it would be. You let him live, and he could have just disappeared. But he spent two years plotting out this elaborate game for you to play, trying to turn us all against each other. He had to know you'd never forgive what he did to Avery. Reconciliation was never his goal."

Her jaw tightened when he mentioned Avery, and Kurt wasn't entirely sure if it was because of what Roman had done, or his own unwitting part in his stepdaughter's captivity.

"I think you're wrong. I think he thought that Remi would forgive it, if he could only get her back. I don't have a lot of memories from our childhood, but from meeting Shepherd, I think Remi and Roman were brought up to think the end result justified any means. That's why Remi did awful things as part of Orion, because her commanding officers told her it was for the greater good. And then what she did to you."

What she was saying made a twisted amount of sense. He'd never been able to fully understand how Remi's terrible intentions and the innate goodness in Jane could come from the same person. But if Remi's desire to help make things better had been perverted by Shepherd's 'at any cost' ideology...

He pushed down his anger at Shepherd, knowing that if Jane misinterpreted why he was angry, it would make things a hundred times worse.

"You think Roman did all this because he just wants his sister back?"

Jane nodded. "His real sister. Remi. Not me. This whole Crawford thing was somehow supposed to make me remember who I used to be, or at least cut my ties to you and the team, so that I wouldn't have anyone left but him."

Knowing how Shepherd had separated Remi from Avery, Kurt could see how Roman might have come up with the idea that being alone would bring Jane back to him. But if he let Jane drown in her guilt at driving her brother away, Roman would end them all. Offering him immunity for his crimes was an option at one point, when he'd been in their custody, actively helping them. But since his escape, Roman had continually committed serious crimes, even when he'd also offered help to solve others. There were only two options available to him now: a lifetime in prison, or death.

Three options, if the CIA got their way. But from the way Jane talked about black sites, she'd shoot Roman in the head before allowing him to be subject to Keaton's whims.

"Even if Roman thought you'd forgive him for what he did, he had to know the legal system doesn't work that way."

Jane shrugged sadly. "It did for me, didn't it? He'd have helped me to take down Crawford, who's just as big a target as Shepherd was. Plus he wanted me to kill him, back in DC. When he came up with this plan, I think part of him hoped he could go down fighting. Even if it was one of you who killed him, not me."

"Suicide by cop, or he gets his sister back?" Kurt shook his head. "I don't care what his intentions were. I care what he's done. To you, to me, to Avery. Selling the team to the Venezuelans. And I doubt Crawford has been keeping Tom Jakeman's hands clean, either. We know for a fact that he killed Ganzman yesterday. You didn't murder anyone after your memory was wiped."

"I know. I know that no matter what he hoped for, we could never have let Roman walk free. But before he got Crawford out of our reach, he did hope. And I was the one who killed that hope, by telling him Remi is dead, and I chose a life away from him. If I'd waited until after we'd brought Crawford down to give him hell, we wouldn't have no leads now, and Avery would have some closure for her father's death."

His heart hurt for Jane. Avery was an added dimension of pressure they felt to solve this case. If it had just been the Roman connection, it would have been hard enough, but Avery's impatience, and her horror at finding out her father had been a murderer, was a burden Jane found crushing. The outcome of the Crawford investigation could make or break her relationship with her daughter.

Roman knew how to create intricate puzzles, but he also knew how to structure them in ways that would hurt his sister, and her chosen family, the most.

"You didn't know Roman had fallen in love with Crawford's daughter. You had no idea he was in an undercover role where he was part of a family. You can't blame yourself for being angry, Jane. The gala made him realise he'd burned his bridges with you, I won't deny that. But I think he knew that moment was coming. Roman's self-destructive, but he's not stupid."

She'd been nodding slowly as he spoke; he was getting through to her. Don't torture yourself, Jane. The end of this is already gonna hurt.

"Yesterday, he said killing me would be like killing a part of myself, and I told him it was a part that needed to die. He knows I won't hesitate now. The gun jammed, but I took the shot. I don't think he'll hesitate, either."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry. You might not hesitate, but I know it'll hurt if you're the one to kill him. If I can, I'll spare you from that - if you don't think that would make things worse. Between you and me, I mean."

She leaned against him again. "No. It was such a relief when you offered to take out Roman, when we thought we had him trapped in the therapy room at the NYO. I hate the thought of killing him myself, but now I know he's too dangerous to be allowed to live. If I have to take the shot myself, I'll do it. But if you do it, I won't let it come between us."

"That would mean he got what he wanted." It stung a little - just as her declaration that she wanted to reconcile with him because she didn't want to let Roman win had stung - but Kurt understood. If their positions had been reversed, and it was Sarah they'd needed to take down, it would always hurt a little to know Jane had ended his sister's life, even knowing she'd been a terrorist.

"Not just that." Jane stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, surprising him. "I know you wouldn't be killing him on a revenge kick. You'd just be trying to keep me, and our family, safe."

They were both talking as though taking Roman into custody alive wasn't an option, and for good reason. Jane's brother would walk into a hail of bullets before he let himself be imprisoned again, and even if they could put cuffs on him before he committed suicide - by his own hand, or theirs - they'd seen the effect captivity had on Roman. His childhood PTSD had reduced him to a sobbing wreck in his FBI cell. Jane would take it hard if she had to kill her brother, but knowing she was subjecting him to a lifetime of extreme distress would be infinitely worse.

Kurt would ignore an opportunity to take Roman in alive, assuming one came up, purely because he knew Jane would never come to terms with it if Roman went to Rikers, or to a black site. Her first thought every morning, and the last every night, would be of Roman, crying on the floor like a child.

Kurt knew that death was its own kind of closure, though neither Taylor Shaw nor Bill Weller had died by his hand. The years of not knowing, of fearing Taylor was suffering terrible torment, had worn on his soul. In Roman's case, the suffering would be a certainty for Jane, not a 'what if?' Kurt would do anything to spare her that.

"We don't need Roman to get Crawford, not if we're thorough. We just dealt them a huge setback, taking down their weapon. They'll have to come up with a plan B, and on much shorter notice. When they slip up, we'll be there." He stood up, then tugged on her hand. "Let's get some sleep, if you think you can."

She got to her feet and hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you for listening. It feels better to have gotten it out of my head. Even if I know some of it is just me repeating myself."

"Anytime." He kept one arm around her as they separated, and together they made their way back to bed.