#tw: mentions of serial killer

[comment-exchange]

320. Sea Glass (The Mentalist)

Title: Sea Glass

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51963118

Platform: ao3

Creator: me! 😁 emilie786 (tumblr) / Emilie_786 (AO3)

Work Type: fanfic

Fandom: The Mentalist (2008)

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Word Count: 958

Warnings: brief references to violent events in canon, including a serial killer, thinking about the possibility of electrucution, grief, mourning

Number of comments (Your replies to comments don’t count into that number): 0

Completion Status: complete.

Short summary/description: Patrick Jane sets up his Airstream and makes some choices.

[waywardsunlight]

The Owl House is the journey of a neurodivergent girl dealing with grief and the guilt that society has placed on her, finding people who accept and understand her for who she is through exploring a fantasy world like the one in the book her dad left her before he died, and conversely, it’s a story about a child abuser getting wrecked because he wants the approval of a messed up, extinct society so much that he’d rather live in a fantasy where he won than try to understand somebody he loved.

[merakiui]

Hi merakiui! For the lunar love hotel if it's alright can I get a cherry wine and red velvet cupcakes with floyd leech with an AFAB reader, please?

yandere!floyd leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, cunnilingus, brief mention of pregnancy, serial killer floyd au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

Your back slams into the floor with a harsh, spine-cracking thump, and pinpricks of pain explode within your skull. The kitchen knife is centimeters from your face, driven into the wood flooring so deeply that it splinters from the sheer force, and you surmise he’s put it there intentionally. It’s a very easy trap. Unfortunately, you’re too petrified to fall for it.

You stare up at a face bathed in shadows, nerves alight with fight or flight, and watch in muted horror as he tugs the surgical mask from his face to show you his needle-toothed grin. Though his hair is dyed Stygian and he’s wearing colored contacts—twin pools of the prettiest blue—this is undeniably Floyd Leech. You’d recognize that creeping, crawling lilt in his voice any day because it’s stuck with you ever since you first met him, carved into your being like a terrible tattoo or a melody you can never forget. And it’s remained in the corners of your brain ever since news of his escape shook the city, a constant reminder that one day his voice wouldn’t be so far away.

Today is that day.

“S’no fun if you let me catch ya right away,” he says, peering around your dimly lit bedroom. “Your place’s reeeal nice. Much nicer than the cell. Shame ya never invited me.” He’s pouting now, scuffing his sneaker against the floor as if he’s a child whining about a lack of dessert. “Shrimpy’s so mean, excludin’ me from your life like that…” 

You’re at a loss, opening and closing your mouth like a beached fish, eyes blown impossibly wide. He doesn’t look particularly livid, but then there’s manic glee shimmering in his azure hues and that’s far more terrifying than any anger he could harbor. 

I have to call for help. I have to run away. I can’t let him kill me. I have to—

“Hey, hey. Whatcha thinkin’ about?” He bends down to inspect your eyes as they travel towards the handle of the knife. “You wanna kill me, Shrimpy? Put me back in that cold, cramped cell?” He tilts his head, amusement waltzing across fearsome features. “Have fun tryin’. I ain’t goin’ back now that I got ya all to myself.”

“F-Floyd… How did you—” You swallow thickly, flinching away when he drops to his knees to trap you between sturdy arms. You scoot away, propped up on your elbows, and the gears in your brain are turning in an attempt to work out a hasty escape. “W-Why are you here?”

Keep him talking. Pretend it’s an interview. Silence leads to stagnation, and Floyd loves talking when he’s in the mood.

“I told ya, didn’t I? Soon as I’m gettin’ out I’m comin’ to find ya.” His fingers curl around the handle of the knife and he yanks it up from the floor. “Ya never answered my question, y’know.”

“Your proposal?” You stare at him in disbelief. All of this…just for a reply to a yes-no question. He can’t be serious.

“Ah, that’s the one! Shrimpy remembers!”

He is. Very serious, apparently.

“What happens if I agree?” you ask slowly, taking great caution to structure the sentence just right, lest you offend him and find that blade stabbed through your skull. “We can’t get married the normal way.”

“Normal’s borin’ anyway.” With that same dopey smile, he narrows his eyes, reels his arm back, and throws the knife directly at the wall beyond. You don’t see it burrow into the wall, but you hear it. It's explosive in the stifling quiet of the bedroom. Floyd gazes at you, smiling sincerely. “See? No more knife. I’m gonna be good for Shrimpy if Shrimpy’s gonna be good for me.”

“Right… R-Right. Okay. I’ll be good. Can I… Can I stand up now? The floor isn’t very comfortable.”

“Okaaay!” He pulls away, rises to his full hulking height, and offers his hand. Gingerly, you place yours in his and he lifts you up. “S’nice to touch ya without the cuffs.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Floyd.” Like always, you speak directly, firmly, gently. He stares at you, a strange shadow passing over his face. “What happens if I agree to marry you?”

“You’ll become Mrs. Shrimpy. Duh.”

“Okay… And you won’t hurt anyone? If I become Mrs. Shrimpy, you have to promise.” Floyd’s gaze strays. You lift your hand to his face to guide him back to you. His hand closes around yours, and there is an uncanny softness to his face that reflects something tame. He’s almost…innocent like this, leaning into your palm like an oversized puppy desperate for affection and attention. And to think this is the same man who could be so mercilessly cutthroat. “You have to promise me, Floyd. No hurting others. No matter how difficult it gets—no matter how angry or upset you become—you can’t hurt people.”

He frowns as if it’s an unreasonable plea.

“Promise me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“Floyd.”

“I promise,” he mumbles and then exaggerates an obnoxious sigh, his shoulders drooping. “Shrimpy’s really wringin’ me dry here. Then if I’m promisin’ to be a goody-goody, you gotta promise to marry me, ‘kay?”

“I promise.” You force a wobbly smile as your stomach churns. 

This is sickening. There has to be some way out of this. Maybe it’s possible to distract him long enough to make a run for it…

Floyd lights up at your acquiescence and wraps his arms around you in an embrace that would have felt bone-crushing if you hadn’t already prepared yourself for the brunt of his aggressive affection. You consider the situation while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, humming his happiness. 

Surely he wouldn’t come here without a plan. What happens if I do manage to get out or call for help? Or is he planning to take me somewhere else? Is he even here to kill me? But then he was so focused on the marriage proposal and—

Your thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Floyd, still hugging you, drags you over to your bed and shoves you onto the mattress. It depresses under his weight when he climbs onto it next, hastily kicking his sneakers off and shucking his hooded sweatshirt in the process to reveal well-toned musculature. The once joyous glaze in his eyes mellows into something predatory, and it occurs to you that he isn’t here for a response to a question. Upon recognizing this, your heart plummets into your stomach. 

There were two things Floyd pestered you with when you’d visit him for interviews. How you managed to blot the second demand from your brain is beyond you, but it becomes abundantly clear when he seizes your ankles just as you attempt to crawl out from under his looming shadow. 

“W-Wait… What are you—”

“Don’t go anywhere, Shrimpy!” He squeezes just hard enough to warn you, and even though it doesn’t hurt the implication that it eventually will should you defy him has you wincing. “Aw. Don’t be scared. I’m not scary, yeah?”

You stare helplessly at him. He’s smiling, face flushed with wicked excitement. “Floyd, I don’t want—stop! Let go of me!” A rough hand traces its way up to the waistband of your shorts, and his fingers curl around it. Your eyes widen with newfound terror. “No, no, no! Let go of me! Stop! Stop, stop, stop—”

An unknown darkness passes over your face for a fraction of a second, and then his hand is covering it entirely, squeezing ruthlessly. His nails dig into the plush of your cheeks, and through the crack between his fingers you spy his hateful expression. It’s murder and death all at once, so frightful you wonder if this is the same face he showed all of his past victims.

“You promised to be good,” he says, voice devoid of the warmth it once held. “I like Shrimpy’s voice, so don’t make me take it.” Those last few words are spoken in low, threatening octaves. 

“Please don’t do this,” you whisper, voice cracking. “P-Please, Floyd…”

“Why not? You’re my wife now, and when you’re engaged you gotta show your love nice and proper.” 

Your eyes find the knife lodged in the wall. It’s impossible to get to it without Floyd’s quick interception, and even if it was in your grasp you’re not sure you’d have the courage to hurt him. As much as you despise him, he’s still human—a foolish excuse, for he’s a serial killer on death row, and therefore it shouldn’t matter whether or not you hurt him. After all, he’s hurt dozens. And he’s hurting you.

But despite that…

His hand withdraws from your face, and the intimidating aura that surrounded him earlier vanishes at once. “I got lotsa practice at lunch. It was lame to do it on fruit, but I pretended it was Shrimpy and it became really fun!” He giggles at the recollection, shaking his head as if it’s a silly topic. And it would have been if it weren’t for the circumstances. “I’ve wanted ya so bad. Always. So fuckin’ bad it hurt.”

He tugs your shorts down to your ankles, leaning down to press a kiss just above your navel. You catch his eyes as he does this and a sly smirk curls onto his face. 

“And now I get to have ya.”

“Please don’t…”

But he may as well be deaf, for your pleas never reach his ears. Floyd kisses his way to your hips, tugging your panties down as he goes. You stiffen at the way the cool air settles on your bare skin, and he laughs breathlessly, exhilaration reflected in wide, eager eyes. As a last-ditch effort you attempt to shut your legs, but he grabs them and throws them over his shoulders to lock himself in place between your thighs. You squirm restlessly beneath him while he studies your pussy, his warm breath ghosting over it. 

“Aah? Shrimpy’s so cute, shavin’ just for me.” Mirth-filled eyes flick to yours. “You don’t hafta, y’know. I don’t mind if Shrimpy’s hairy. No matter what, Shrimpy’s always gonna be pretty to me.”

“Don’t look!” Shakily, you slide your hand down to shield it from his view. 

And I didn’t shave it for you! you want to add, but the words just won’t come. 

His fingers knead your thighs encouragingly, and he leans in to nose your knuckles. “Aww. But it’s really so pretty.” He winks at you, playful. “A pretty pussy for my pretty Shrimpy.”

A potent concoction of embarrassment and shame flares red-hot under your skin. There’s a sick part of you that preens under his filthy praise. You strangle fistfuls of the sheets in your other hand to ground yourself. He’s not attractive. He’s a criminal. But even with those reminders you find yourself clinging to his words out of some carnal instinct. 

“Stop… Stop talking.”

He giggles and leans in to lick a wet stripe along your fingers, enticing you to separate them. You shake your head at him, mumble another objection, but he refuses to have any of that. Floyd pinches your thigh and you grimace at the sharp, stinging pain. It’s enough of a temporary distraction because his tongue slides past the part in your fingers to prod at your clitorial hood. The warm muscle flicks, almost like a snake catching a scent, and presses up against the hood to lap at the nub that resides there. The breath sticks in your throat and you retract your hand, your heart skipping one too many beats within your ribs. 

He braces himself against you, hands splayed across your inner thighs to keep you perfectly spread. Floyd angles his head in a way that allows him to affix his lips to your slit, and at first it feels like a wet, sloppy smooch when the flat part of his tongue laves across it. But then his tongue is sliding away, slowly circling your clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, and you throw your head back against the bed, the breath punched out of you. He pats your thigh in what you think might be a consoling gesture, and you respond with a shiver. A subdued groan just barely manages to slip past puffy, bitten lips, and it occurs to you that you’ve been chewing them this entire time. Iron thickens in your mouth, and you swallow both blood and moans as Floyd’s enthusiastic ministrations draw more reedy sounds from the depths of your throat. 

Tears gather upon your lash line, and for a moment all you see is the ceiling as salty liquid obscures it. But then you blink them away and hazard a glimpse at Floyd, whose head is still between your legs. Salacious squelches of tongue on flesh join your soft, needy gasps, mingling into a duet so lewd it fills your brain with thoughts of pure obscenity. And at the very center of it all, Floyd is all you can think about. 

It’s your fingers carding through his hair that momentarily breaks Floyd from his rhythm. He doesn’t stop; rather, he hums his delight against you after realizing you’re touching him and the vibrations fill you much like the thick tongue forcing its way inside tight, gummy walls. You’re tugging on obsidian locks, battling chagrin and pleasure all at once, and he seems to enjoy the rough treatment, for he groans into you, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs. 

At some point, amidst every enjoyable sensation that crashes into you, his thumb finds your clit to massage harsh circles against it while two slender fingers curl up inside you alongside his tongue. You’re trembling now, digging your fingers into his scalp to brace yourself, as you rock against his face and sob as if mourning. It feels so, so good—much better than when you’d do it with your own fingers and toys—and all you can manage is incoherency as his fingers work you open and his tongue slurps up your slick. Every little touch, hum, and stroke has something building in your gut, a ferocious, coiling sort of heat that’s pulled unbearably taut.

And with one particularly rough grind of his thumb it snaps, and you howl your relief as you gush all over his handsome face. Floyd licks you through it, laughing against your pussy, before drawing back to inhale deeply. His fingers slide out of you with ease, but you lament the emptiness. Bathed in the amber glow from the bedside lamp, Floyd’s features shimmer with wetness.

He licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of you in his mouth, wipes your juices from his brow, and sighs dreamily. “Shrimpy’s much better than a grapefruit!”

You have a retort for that, surely, but it never leaves your swollen lips. Floyd lowers your legs onto the bed and you remain sprawled, unable to do much other than watch. He’s quick to slip his sweatpants and boxers off while you recover from the high of your orgasm, your chest heaving. And before you can even think to stop him, the soft, fleshy head of his hard, leaking cock presses against your slick folds, and you, delirious with mounting lust, peer up at him through glazed hues. You don’t have the energy to protest because in the back of your mind you know he won’t listen and you’re too boneless to put up much of a fight.

Floyd beams like the brightest sun, serrated teeth on full display in that boyishly toothy grin he does so well. “Hope you’re ready for triplets cuz that’s what I’m givin’ ya!”

You’re not ready—not in the slightest—but you’ll have to be.

[seventhofcrows]

Everyone gangster until simping for Bob Velseb leaves you in a graveyard dead and shit.

[were-wolverine]

i don’t get ppl who think real life serial killers are attractive or cool or whatever. like those are Real People. if you wanna call a serial killer babygirl just find a fictional one

like. there’s so many fictional murderers and such that people make edits and fanart/fanfic of and it’s a billion times less problematic than doing that with Actual Real Life Killers. go draw patrick bateman in a maid dress. make some edits of (matthew lillard as) stu and william afton.

have fun with it bc at the end of the day, they are fictional characters and doing that stuff doesn’t hurt anybody. however, doing that with real life killers? that does hurt people.

basically: don’t romanticize actual serial killers when it’s so much less fucked up to just call hannibal lecter your babygirl or draw the riddler as a catboy

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Hello, are you the person who made the dca!sk au? If so, I hope you don't mind if I do a ask and say: Sun kinda reminds me of "The Dismemberment Song" a little bit, ngl. Especially in the "Rib Tickler" comic where he told the person that they were squirmy. Sorta reminded me of the song, lol. Also, speaking of the "Rib Tickler" comic, did Sun count shaking as not holding still? I noticed that while he was counting, the person had noticeable shake marks around them (I would be shaking a lot too if I were them!) And I guessed Sun counted that as moving (on second thought, this might be a dumb question) perhaps they were meant to loose? Because he knew they wouldn't be able to stop shaking due to the fear and pain? But then again, he said, "I swear you're doing this on purpose" did he mean the person was moving to agitate him? Also, do they have rules against Rulebreakers about swearing in the basement during their "sessions," or, can they say what they want? (I know Sun and Moon can swear while there). Do Sun and Moon have any rules for the Rulebreakers to follow in the basement, and if they don't follow said rules will that further add to their punishment? Has Sun or Moon ever talked to a Rulebreaker on the "outside" before their "basement session?" If so, what'd they say? What's Sun's other favorite "games" to play with Rulebreakers? Do kids of some of the parents they kill ever say to Sun (or Moon) that they miss thier parent because what they thought they were doing to them was how they "loved" them? Have they ever had kids whose parent was a Rulebreaker, and the kid looks just like them it's almost creepy? (Espically if the Rulebreaker parent is already dead). Have you ever had two Rulebreaker parents, and did a double sesssion, where Moon had one, Sun had the other? Or would they "share" them? What if a Rulebreaker keeps passing out because of injuries or something else? Do Sun and Moon do adrenalin needles, a bucket of cold water, a slap to the face, etc, to pull them out of unconsciousness, especially if the "session" wasn't over and one of them didn't get to go? Does Sun usually go first and Moon go second? Have they ever had a Rulebreaker that would need to take something at a certain time otherwise it'll be life threatening, before their session was over, so they gave it to them reluctantly to extend their time with them?

Apologies if you're not the person and I'm bombarding you with stuff you don't know the answers to. But either way, thank you for reading my post! And if you're the right person, thank you so much for taking the time to answer all this, I kind of went on a extended tangent there, and I hope to hear from you soon!

Hello, yes I am! :D

"The Dismemberment Song" certainly does fit Sun in a way. He likes to go into detail about how he intends to carry out his work X3

Just as he and Moon like to play games. And in regards to the comic, Sun knew his game would be unfair. Of course someone can't keep still if their bruised and broken ribcage is being touched, it's practically impossible. Sun knows this, but Rulebreakers don't deserve fairness. Sun and Moon have no respect for Rulebreakers and will openly mock them because they both know it's more than what they deserve.

Every game a Rulebreaker plays is a game they are always meant to lose.

Rulebreakers can swear all they want; but if Sun or Moon decide they've said enough, either of them can easily silence them.

That's about as much as I can answer, it's a little difficult reading the rest of the questions QwQ but thank you for asking and showing interest in this AU!

[perpetualexistence]

Tell us about your other Alenoaheather AU(s). I know you have them. 🔫

- Totally not Ophe

Hello completely random anon whose identity will forever be a mystery!

See, with the way you've phrased this, you've actually opened yourself up to a few options. I'll tell you a little bit about each one and you can tell me which one you want to learn more about first.

Currently unnamed G/T Alenoaheather

Definitely the most detailed AU of the bunch. It's got backstories and character arcs for each of the three. Probably the best way to describe it is Urban fantasy since none of them are (completely) human, but they pretty much live in a modern setting.

It does get dark at times. Think Beastars-adjacent in terms of vibes. Including the murder bits. But it's mostly self-defense or being forced into it, so take that as you will. I will say that it's nowhere near the levels of toxic relationships that something like the Sea Monster AU has. And they do actually improve as people. These three still get drama mind you, but it's from keeping secrets rather than being genuinely manipulative. ...Well. Too manipulative. It does have Alejandro and Heather in it. But it's got fluff moments because fluffy giant/tiny dynamics are precious and must be preserved at all costs.

It's got Alejandro who's a giant-shifter able to grow even larger than most other giant-shifters thank to his Burromuerto heritage. The Burromuertos are a completely upstanding giant-shifter family and definitely don't have any incredibly fucked up family traditions they expect Alejandro to continue.

Noah's a were-mongoose. Werefolk come in a large variety, though mongoose is on the far more uncommon side. Unlike most werefolk, this kid genius actually figured out a way to not completely give into his instincts during full moons. This has absolutely no negative repercussions on his wellbeing.

Heather who's a giant-shifter hybrid unable to grow thanks to her human heritage from her father's side. She's the only one of her siblings unable to grow. She definitely doesn't have a complex about this. But she has managed to find her own way of making herself just as much of a physical threat as her two boyfriends. (Aka the day I take away from Heather's inherent badassery is the day I die.)

Serial Killer AU

It's exactly what it sounds like. With exactly the vibes the name implies. Definitely the darker one. They're just a thriving villain throuple with a body count. It's also mostly Noah-focused so far as I haven't figured out Alejandro or Heather's motivations.

Noah stumbles across a body of a serial killer spree, only to be the first to realize that one serial killer is actually two. Curiosity leads him to investigate...but not for the reasons you'd think.

(For this one that's pretty much all I can share before just going into the whole AU)

And then, on the completed side since might as well dump all the Alenoaheather AUs:

Noah and the Beanstalk

Another giant/tiny AU! This one's actually got its own post already. I don't really have anything else that I didn't already mention in that post. But it's my blog, so I'll advertise my own AUs as I please!

Collab AUs

The Royal Court AU

Originally named The Lords In Black AU because it was originally inspired by me watching an animatic of The Summoning from Nerdy Prudes Must Die. Then it evolved into something far beyond that where the name doesn't seem quite right anymore.

It's got Alenoaheather as the worst teens at school and unashamed about it. ...Until Alejandro goes missing, and nobody else really seems to care. Leaving Heather and Noah to investigate and try their best not to be next.

They fail, but hey, at least they get cool eldritch powers out of it!

This AUs also dark because the premise is them being kidnapped to be used as sacrifices. And it's got plenty of eldritch horror in it. The posts for it are scattered because they ended up going into two separate reblog chains with @total-drama-brainrot and @ur-local-brown-multifandomist. If you look up 'lords in black au' on my blog you should be able to find most of it. I'm going to just centralize it for ease of organization one day. It'll just be. You know. Effort.

Also, @ur-local-brown-multifandomist is currently making a fic for it! It's their first one, so feel free to check it out.

Fake Dating Alenoaheather AU

This one's a collab AU between me and @total-drama-brainrot, a person you have never met because you are a completely anonymous anon. Noah gets caught in between Heather and Alejandro's attempts to make the other jealous by each making him pretend to be their boyfriend. Shenanigans and drama ensue. The posts for this are also scattered and tagged on both our blogs, and one day we might make a fic about it. For now, there actually is someone already making a fic about it that you can feel free to read!

I still can't believe two different people decided to start making fic of AUs I helped create. It's wild, and I'm incredibly touched.

"Why are all of these AUs except for one dark in at least some way?"

I honestly couldn't tell you exactly why my brain works the way it does. It just decided that the two canon villains and one-villain coded teenager deserve to be at least a little feral. As a treat.

Maybe one day I'll have an AU with them that's not so dark. That day will be a surprise to us all.

But yeah, that's all of the Alenoaheather AUs I got! The first two I'm more than happy to go into more detail for if you ask!

[mnstcrsiiistcrs]

"Well. He isn't wrong about the serial killer part."

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I gossiped and shared a thingy of Popeye's curly fries with The Zodiac Killer, who also happened to be Steve Harvey. He was appalled to find out about the shit Stephanie did in 4th period.

[billiuspendragon]

I just watched Silence of the Lambs last night and like

fuck.

also how did they make Hannibal Lecter so fucking terrifying and horrible but also weirdly likeable???? Like I literally watched him eat someone's face off but was still like "oh he's very polite"

Honestly that scares me more than anything because it shows me that somebody can make me like them even when they're scary and dangerous, just by their attitude.

Anyway, horrifying film, would definitely recommend! I like it because while it does have gore, it doesn't rely on that gore to be scary.

[thescarletkiller]

Guess what? Y’all are getting a double whammy today. I’m posting two chapters at once since the new updates will be here soon and I’m excited to finish it up. This one marks the final chapter of my SK Francis fanfic.

TW for mentions of murder, gore, violence, self harm, suicidal ideation and violent thoughts

To everyone who read to the end, thank you all so much for reading. It makes me happy to see that the AU I created has been appreciated by you all. Feel free to write a comment or send in some asks regarding the fanfic 🖤

[mad-hunts]

i like how barton went from being like... a hippie in terms of how he viewed sex in his early twenties, then kind of abstained from it for a few years / became sexually repressed, which... definitely isn't such a good thing. BUT then he became even more of a freak (and i do mean that in the good way this time LOL) around the time he started residency because WOW is that shit stressful. though that was also unfortunately around the time when he really started to spiral as well 😬 but we don't need to talk about that ahahhh

like the way this man learned how to express his sexuality REALLY came full circle in the end considering he was like 'yeah, back in the early days that i was in college, i was a freak. but now i'm not anymore... though do you want to see me do it again anyway?' like 💀 JSJSJ if he weren't so demented, i'd almost be inclined to say good for him, y'all LMAO feeling comfortable with your sexuality and perhaps even having a bit of fun with it (though maybe too much in barton's case, because he literally weaponizes it in order to lure in his victims. BUT once again, we don't need to talk about that right now psshhh. i actually fully intend on talking about that in the tags NGL) is more often than not a good thing after all

[storybook-tiles]

the future’s unwritten (the past is a corridor) | ch 1/2 | 12.3k | playlist | ghosts & hauntings

Finally, a small warble of a voice echoes through the room, “I don’t know what to draw.” he whispers mournfully, turning to look at Mike.

Mike frowns, “You don’t… what? ”

Will glances wistfully down at the pencil, a standard steely grey, still floating aimlessly in the air, “Can’t think of anything.”

Mike’s shoulders rise up to his ears. This was supposed to be simple. Just get the ghost some pencil crayons and get him to stop terrorizing them all. How the hell does it keep getting more complicated?

He inhales deeply, letting the air fill his lungs, “Well, what did you like drawing before?” When you were alive , is what he thinks but doesn’t dare to add.

Will tilts his head to the side, deep in thought. The silence stretches between them like a chasm, “It’s hard to remember,” Will admits finally, “Sorry.”

In the Fall of 1987, the Wheelers move to a new town, but when things take a turn for the worse in their new house, it's up to Mike to make contact with the strange entity haunting them.

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Lucy Letby situation is fucked for so many reasons.

Because the actual shit she did was fucked, she's a serial killer, a child murderer.

And the news is like oh she was an English rose.

She didn't have the face of a murderer.... What do child murderers look like? 🤨

Because last I checked, the only nurses that have killed kids in thus country were white women.

And her friends and family being like oh she was so sweet, never angry, never mean oh we'll miss her so much.

"I'll stand with her no matter what? 🥺"... The fuck?!

I have dropped people for less.

And people sympathising with her crying in court like oh poor dear....

She killed 7 babies, you know who the poor dears are the babies!

The parents and families of those poor innocent babies.

God the power of white woman tears is something else.

And for anyone who's like don't bring race into this, you think there'd be this much sympathy if she was black or brown?

Bitch literally wrote a note saying "I'm evil I did this" and there are people who can't believe "an innocent women" could do such evil.

[spring-lxcked]

william "pretends to be confident abt everything" af.ton will, in fact, bring up pegging / being fingered as a joke if he thinks his wife / girlfriend is straight to test the waters ( because of the time period and him having to technically pretend to be straight ). big "haha as if. right. right?" vibes

[spookcataloger]

The Belarus Seer