Amelia: Mass Effect Fan Fiction

[ameliasnormandy]

Nancy Drew, A Hero or Villian?

Dear Aunt Eloise,

Let me start by saying I miss you. I miss Frank too. You will send him my love, I hope. I know I should write to him myself or text, but we didn’t leave things in the best of places. And I’m still not ready to talk to him. That can make me a bad person, and I will make no argument, in fact, do that. It’s just a lot of stuff has been unsaid for so long, and it has finally come out. It seems the two of us had a lot of unresolved issues. And we said things we can’t take back.

As for the updates, I’m glad to hear everything is going all right. I am sorry you feel weird not waking up and knowing I am in the safety of my semi-quiet hometown. However, it was never exactly quiet when Frank and I got involved. Still, it’s good to know I am missed. I will be back eventually. I’m not sure Horseshoe Bay is really a place I could ever call home.

Speaking of Horseshoe Bay, I have a lot of updates for you. Starting with the fact it seems I was right in the assumption my new friends (though I hardly feel confident in calling them that) might be the best option for me. I seem to have at least picked a group that will not immediately shun me once I explain to them the real reason I ended up here at Horseshoe Bay. I have not had a chance to tell them, but with what I was just a part of, it seems that it’s likely they will accept me. However, I am not sure that I totally understand.

I’m not sure I believe anything they’re saying. I mean, you know me. I’m a far more rational person than to believe in mysterious circumstances. Everything, most of the time, has a rational explanation. Of course, that begged the question why I was in the town in the first place. However, like I always like to misquote, when you take out all the possible options, the only thing left is the impossible. Of course, I only ever used that when something finally did make some rational sense. Still, for the time being, I shall soldier on.

And speaking of moving forward, I have not found a good way to talk to them about it. I will, though, I promise. I just need a bit more time. I promise. It’s just I think they might have gotten involved in something weird. I mean, they think they accidentally or not so accidentally summoned a ghost, or maybe it is a multitude of ghosts. And the weirdest part is this doesn’t seem like the first one they’ve summoned or tried to summon. From what I can tell, they seem to have summoned a lot of them. I have not asked them exactly what ghosts they have summoned yet. I would love to investigate that. Maybe I should just explain what I know or show you what I saw, and then you can judge for yourself what exactly is going on. Hopefully, you can make more sense of it than I did.

I was just walking into The Claw when I heard, “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the day,” George said, already trying to usher me out. She seemed a bit more frantic than I had ever seen her before.

I have never been one to fight something like this, so I did what I was told, or maybe I should say I tried to do what I was told. “Of course,” I said, turning to the door. I was able to reach for the door before I collapsed to the ground. I remember the thud I heard as my whole body collapsed to the ground with no warning. It was almost a sickening thud. A hollow shell collapsing into the abyss.

However, when I opened my eyes, I was no longer on the ground, nor was I in the Claw. Instead, I was standing in a place I had never seen before. The room was silent. The whole building was wood. And I remember I wasn’t wearing shoes anymore. I tried to move but couldn’t. I couldn’t take a step. The only thing I could do was look around; all I saw was wood. The wood was moving in on me, maybe. I shook my head, knowing it was all imaginary. The room. The walls moving. All of it. It was just a test by the worst parts of my psyche. And I was failing. After all, walls don’t move in on someone. I tried to speak more to hear my own voice than to break any magical spell I might have been put under. However, nothing came out. Not a whisper, not a squeak. It was silent.

I tried to look around the room again and again. It felt like the room was getting smaller. I could no longer believe it was all in my head. I wanted to imagine it was, but the walls were starting to come even closer. I was feeling the air squeeze out of me like an accordion. I tried to scream, to speak, to whisper, but I heard nothing in that room. My whole body tensed. It squeezed in on itself as the walls got tighter and tighter. Just as I felt the walls scrape my skin, I was woken with a start.

My heart was thumping out of my chest, like a cartoon in love, but I was not in love, nor was I all a flutter. No, instead, I was panicked, trying to forget a horror movie I had just watched in real-time. I also had the very fun experience of just being in a cold sweat in public. I am sure that looked just great in front of these relative strangers.

I was sitting in the Claw once more exactly where I had collapsed upon the floor. I looked around. There was the door behind me. And the people I keep vouching for, for reasons I am becoming less and more certain of, were surrounding me. Nick, Nancy, Ace, Bess, George. They were all there. All surrounding me, I was the car crash everyone couldn’t look away from. They looked at me, waiting for some explanation. Finally, Ace asked, “You all right?”

I tried to nod my head, but my head felt heavy. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I closed my mouth. And then tried to speak again, but still, no sound could be heard. My voice was gone. Nancy looked toward Bess and said, “Go get her some water.” Bess got up and immediately went to go get water.

All I could think was to get out of there. I no longer wanted to be there. I couldn’t face any of them. I wanted to get away to figure out what had happened. There had to be a rational explanation. Maybe a panic attack. I had had those before. It had never occurred like that, but it was possible. It made sense. I’ve been putting so much pressure on myself to figure out some mystery I no longer cared about. I am even packing my bags to leave once more.

I placed my hands beside me to try and force myself to stand up. I couldn’t even push the first try and instead collapsed forward. I tried again, and this time I could push a little before falling back down. I had to try again. I was going to force myself to stand. I would deal with the consequences later. I was wavering back and forth; if it hadn’t been for Nick and Ace, I certainly would’ve fallen again. Still, I couldn’t thank them. I opened my mouth to thank them, but nothing came out. I still had no voice, no ability to say anything at all.

I turned around and went straight to the door, opening it. I could hear their calls calling me back like sirens to the sea. They needed to explain. They wanted to make sure I was alright. I needed to make sure I was alright and to do that, I needed to get out of there. I had to leave and recenter myself.

I slammed the door and headed back toward town. I was hoping the air would spark something in my lungs. I looked back, and they were following me. I didn’t want to face them. I quickly ducked off some path. I had no idea where I was going; I hadn’t even memorized the route from the hotel to the Claw yet. And now I was looping through roads that didn’t come to mind. Still, eventually, I made it back to the hotel. I do want to say if I had no idea where I was really going, I believed how could they.

And that is where I am writing to you from; right now. I had to hit pen to paper as soon as I could. My hope being I would understand what is going on. However, it seems I still don’t quite understand.

I hear them knocking at my door. I can’t ignore them forever. I must talk to them. And I hardly know what I will say. Hopefully, the words will come to me. Wish me luck.

Love,

Joe.

[ameliasnormandy]

Nancy Drew Fanfic: Let's meet Everyone, Eloise

Hey, everyone. I am starting another fanfiction (I know, I know, anyone who has read my Tumblr, there is no surprise there). Still, I would love it if this could get some love and attention. I really like this idea. And I need all the help I can get to spread it (as I am terrible at promoting myself, a lot of the time, I don’t think my work is worth it). So, if you could do that, I would be so thankful. No matter what, I appreciate all of the people who have read my stuff and continue to support me in any capacity they and you can.

I do want to add I have not seen the show in its entirety quite yet, so be a little kind. Also, be kind to me. This one is more of an introduction to my series, so stick with it and with me.

Leave all your comments, likes, and shares: show this story and me some love. Please and thank you.

Thank you so much. You don’t know how much it all means to me.

Dear Aunt Eloise,

How are you doing? I hope all is well. Things are slightly more complicated here than I would probably like. I might be here longer than I had first anticipated. However, you know me, I’ll be fine. I will handle this. Though, if I am being honest, I have no idea what I’m handling. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. I think it would be much easier if I knew. I haven’t exactly figured out what I’m missing, but something feels off. It assuredly could be all in my head. I am extremely hesitant to say all of this is simply in my head because it doesn’t entirely feel like that. I could see how it would be clearly in my head, and I would simply be losing my mind.

I’m sorry. I know I’m rambling; I should have a more precise train of thought. You know me. My thoughts are usually more precise, but right now, it feels like I am running in circles. Anyway, let me tell you a little about this town. It seems like a fairly ordinary town. There were several storefronts and even more homes. All of that was as it should be. I ended up at this small restaurant named the Claw. It is a cute little place. Actually, I’m currently writing this to you while sitting in the Claw.

I mean, I kind of wish I could just leave. Kind of wish this could be over and done with. After all, my sensibilities are almost completely lost being here. The confusion this place brings completely messes with my head. But you have told me I need to find some sort of closure. And while I’m not sure if this is the place I need to go to find such closure, I am more than happy to use this as my starting point. You’ve always told me I think first, second, and third and then still never act. And you’re right. I do tend to think far more than act. I try to rationalize everything, hoping to find something that will make sense of everything.

I’m sorry, I keep spinning in circles. I have conversations with myself that makes no sense to me and probably makes less sense to the people around me, but I keep talking in circles like it will help. I promise I will do better in my next letter to be more concise. It’s not like me not to be concise. It’s just my mind doesn’t quite know what to make of any of this.

It’s almost like Alice in Wonderland. There’s that talking doorknob in front of me. First, it’s telling me I’m too big to fit into the door, so I go to look for the potion or the cookie or whatever, but finding that cookie alone feels like I’m running the caucus race. Every time I feel like I’m getting close enough to the cookie to get through the door, something else changes it. I am just running in circles. I’m staring at the door, and I know the longer I stand there, the longer I try to find this cookie, the more I’m going to forget something important to open that door in the first place. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Because I’m walking in this fog, following a light that keeps changing. I keep thinking I’m finding something, and then I find that what I think I found wasn’t actually what I found, but it’s still important.

I keep fighting with these thoughts in my head that seem to be at war with each other to the point there is clearly no right answer. And whatever answer I might believe to be right changes within the moment, minute, within the second, even.

I know I’m talking in circles. So, let me start again. This time I’ll speak with a strength and confidence this letter shows I lack. Right now, I know I lack the confidence to believe in what I’m saying.

The truth is, for some reason, I trust some of the people around me. I don’t exactly know why. From the minimal interaction I’ve had with the people I met, everything seems normal. Everything feels like it should be normal, like everything is as it should be, yet I am stuck questioning that reality. And I’m trying to figure out what’s true if anything is.

Let me start one more time. I am currently in the town of Horseshoe Bay. However, I have not been in town long enough to give you an accurate description. There is, however, one place I can describe in detail, and there are five people I feel I am qualified to describe as well.

Let me start with the place, The Claw. The Claw has a vintage vibe. It has red vinyl seats. The white tables are covered most of the time by some sort of tablecloth. The blinds haven’t been taken down since, I’m sure, the 70s. There’s a bar buried in the corner on the right when you’re sitting in the booth I’m currently sitting in. I have made this booth my home. They have let me sit here for extensive periods of time, the owners, that is. The kitchen is in front of me. A rectangular window allows me to look into the kitchen, and the kitchen door is off to the right of that. The red front door is off to my left. I often stare at it when I’m thinking about leaving. Behind me is a view of the ocean. Most people would be looking at that, but what I’m thinking about won’t be solved by looking out the window. So, now you know where my home is, for now, or at the very least, where I spend most of my time.

Let’s go and meet our cast of characters. Starting with Bess Marvin. She is the fashionista of the group. She always seems to be wearing something extravagant and gorgeous. I swear. I have only known her for a few days, but I have never seen her wearing something out of style, not that I would know. I am what some would call a disaster, maybe even a hopeless case. It’s alright. I am willing to call myself that, maybe because I have been called worse. Not by you, of course. You would never. She is stunning. I feel like this whole town is full of models, and I didn’t get the memo. Like, is it in the water? There are so many pretty people here. She has this near-perfect black hair. And flawless skin. And these doe eyes that make the world seem so innocent.

Next up, let’s do George Fan. She is one of those tough exteriors but melty, gooey interior. At least, that is what I think. I hardly know her well enough to say anything, but the fact she is letting me stay all day at the restaurant she owns says a lot. She also has perfect black hair stylized in a way that both says she didn’t try and that she tried very hard. She has skin that looks flawless. There is not a flaw to be found. Not one. Is it too much to ask that she has one flaw?

Moving on to Ned Nickerson, Nick. He seems sweet enough. He seems to be a very genuinely sweet guy. I have found no reason to doubt him. Or to feel like I need to doubt him. Not that I have found any reason to truly doubt any of the people I’ve met so far. There’s just something about him that feels off. Maybe it’s just the fact he isn’t quite as good at hiding things as the others. He has been the one to make me doubt, but I still have no idea if I am allowed to doubt them.

He, like the others (this is a running theme), looks like he could’ve been or could be on some billboard advertising something that doesn’t really matter. He has dark skin and even darker eyes. These are the eyes I swear you read about in romantic novels written in the 18th century. Where they can stare into my soul, and I knew I could trust him for eternity and back again. Course, what nonsense is that? This idea anyone could stare into your soul well enough you believe they are staring into your soul and you, in turn, are staring into infinity, is nonsense. There is still, however, a small part of me that wonders. Could somebody actually know you? Is it possible for someone to know you like that? I didn’t think so. But sometimes, he looks at me, and I wonder.

He’s not the only one that has that look. Let me introduce you to Ace. While Ace has a last name, it feels almost undignified to use it. I just have this feeling it goes against his entire vibe. He gives off this persona like he doesn’t care like he would never care about anything, but the truth is he knows more about what’s going on than he wants you to know. He wants to appear as if nothing is going on in his head, but there’s clearly something more going on. I just wish I could figure out what he is thinking. I wish I could understand. I’m not even sure why. I know, in reality, it shouldn’t matter. Still, the more time I spend with him, and I tend to spend a good amount of time with him, I find the desire to want to know stronger and stronger. I know how insane that sounds. Trust me. There is no doubt in my mind how insane that sounds, but still, here I am. He has this blonde floppy hair and is still model-isque; don’t let him pretend he isn’t.

Now, let’s move on to the most interesting out of all of them. Nancy Drew. She is what I can’t figure out. No matter how much I try. She seems to be the one thing I can’t quite figure out. She seems to be the one constant thing that doesn’t make sense. I haven’t gotten many details about any of their lives, but I seem to have the most and the least about her life. I know, I know how weird that sounds, but it’s entirely true. I seem to know the least and the most about her.

Let me start with what she looks like. Other than the very ordinary, for this town, model aspect of herself. She truly looks like she stepped right off the runway. Her style might not quite fit, but everything else does. She has these stunning blue eyes that are intimidating because they dare you to be more than what you are, or at the very least, they dare you to be seen as more than you are, or maybe she sees you for what you are. It just feels like they want you to be more.

All the people I have met look like people who’ve never seen a bad hair day or experienced pimples. Even with all of that said, that is not what bothers me the most. Her hair, her hair, is what drives me the maddest, though. Because we have practically the same color hair. My hair is just a touch darker. Hers is more sunset mine is more copper. With that being said, her hair is pin-straight. I don’t know if it’s the water. I don’t know if it’s whatever styling shampoos, conditioners, gels, or everything else she uses. Maybe it’s just genetics. Whatever it is, it is absolutely pin-straight. You, my dear aunt, know my hair is the exact opposite. There is no pin straightness, no absolute way of styling my hair, or genetic code that made my hair straight. My hair is, at best curly, and at worst, it’s a complete and total disaster. That’s what gets me out of everything. That’s what really annoys me. Now, I know that seems a bit self-centered, and it clearly is. I make no attempts at saying it’s not.

Anyway, I need to explain to you something else about Nancy Drew. It is far more important I talk about her personality and life than her looks. She has a strong tenacity I admire. She keeps pushing to find out information about me. Normally, I would have absolutely no issues with her finding out anything about me, but well, you know. The reason I’m here alone is weird. And I don’t want to come off as the crazy person yet. My personality will do that enough, I’m sure.

I will give her this from the bits I’ve been able to pick up, which, again, aren’t a lot. She seems to have more of a handle on life than I ever did. I’m going to give you the Cliff Notes version because I feel that is the only appropriate thing. I mean, it’s not like I know much more. It’s just little things I have picked up on here and there. However, I wouldn’t want someone to know my whole life or to feel the need to blast it to someone they have never met before.

 So, the information is she is the daughter of a fable in Horseshoe Bay and a wealthy man. Apparently, the two of them got together, and stuff happened. However, something happened where she was adopted by a local lawyer Carson Drew, her father, obviously. And that’s about all that I’ve gotten. I know there’s a lot more. But what that more is they haven’t said. And I haven’t pushed.

I do want to say this before I finish my letter for today. If anyone can help me figure out what’s happening, it will be Nancy Drew and her friends. It is why I have spent so much time at the Claw. It’s not because I want to, but simply because I think they have the best information for me. I promise to tell you more in my next letter. I hope your life is going well, my dear aunt.

Love,

               Joe

[ameliasnormandy]

Veronica Mars Fanfic:  Welcome, Mr. Dollar, to Neptune.

Hey, Mr. Dollar,

              This is a bit Doogie for me, but my aunt is making me write these. She tells me she isn’t going to read this, but I’m hiding it just to be safe. Somewhere she will never find it. A friend taught me the hiding spot years ago. However, I wonder if she came up with it herself or if it has been a secret passed through the ages. Someone will come up to me and learn this secret, finding you, and thus finding truths I am hiding from.  

I’m only writing this because my aunt thinks I need it. Actually, the person that thinks I need this is some therapist she helped about a month back. A girl like me needs to find some outlet, some way of letting my feelings go. As if my feelings need to be set free. Escape into the world of the living and find peace amongst those it could call a friend. I, however, think that’s bullshit. My feelings are well placed where they are, but if it gets her, my aunt, off my back, I guess I’ll write this.

So, here I am, writing this to you because just writing to no one made me seem a bit crazier than finding someone I could address this to. Also, it made me feel like I was slightly losing my mind. Maybe I am. If you don’t believe me, you could look at all the torn papers scattering my bedroom floor. It took forever to figure out how to write this, or if it made me sound more or less crazy addressing it to someone. Finally, I made a decision.

              I have never really known what to write about, but I guess this week would be a good enough start. It was my first week back at Neptune High. Neptune is the death of the middle class, or at least that is my claim. Some of the richest families in the country live there. And then the workers that they exploit. Very few families don’t work directly or indirectly with them. My family is sadly, or not so sadly, working indirectly with them. I guess that depends on who you ask. Some say we are in the pockets of the rich; others say we wage war on them. I say we are just making money. Money it’s a simple enough motive to me.

              And Neptune High? It’s where the spawn congregate. We huddled masses. “Send me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses.” And they will send back their jaded, their spoiled, their exasperated. Think hunger games; the only people that make the rules and have an extremely unfair advantage, the rich. I can think of only one difference, there is no happy ending for the girl whose only crime is being born in the wrong area. There is no love story for her, and no one congratulates her when she offers herself to the masses as the martyr neither side wanted.

              My first day started out about like any other year of Neptune High. Other teens running this way and that. Everyone discussing what they had done this summer. My family vacationed in Cabo this year. That must be why you have such a nice tan. I know, right. I’m going to have to keep it up. You know I had to work two jobs this summer, and I still don’t know if I can afford to even think about going to any of the big colleges. I know I’m gonna have to get like all the scholarships to even think about going somewhere other than the community college. Ah, yes, the echoes of all of my people, beckoning me back to the sea, back to the king of the sea, back to the person we must all bow down to.

Oh, and a crowd around the flag pole. That was ordinary or as ordinary as anyone could predict. I was slightly surprised they were already putting someone up there. I mean, that had to be the record, right? Putting a kid up there on the first day of school. Last year, I think they had made it almost an entire month before they had strung up one of them. Wow, I really hope someone on the newspaper is recording this. Of course, they shouldn’t take a picture of the kid, just a note saying that the flag pole was used this early this year. All hail those who know of something else to use it for.

I felt terrible for the kid. He looked so scared. His dark skin had SNITCH written across his chest. I assumed he was naked underneath all the duct tape they had him taped up there with, but I didn’t really stick around to find out. And there was a lot of it, and a lot was needed. He was pretty tall. Actually, he was fairly tall. And by fairly, I mean his body made it up halfway up the pole. It was actually quite impressive that they could string him up in the first place.

              The smart thing would have been for me to walk away. Sadly, I’m not that smart, or if I was, I had some very stupid streaks, this being a major part of that streak. Still, what is a little insanity amongst the already stupidly insane?

I grabbed out my black hoodie and threw it on. I pulled the hood up, pushed past all the gawkers, and pulled out my pocket knife. And yes, my dear Dollar, it is, in fact, not allowed to carry a weapon on school property, but it’s only a punishable offense if you get caught.

I began cutting him down. It took a few seconds to cut through all the duct tape, and there was a lot of it. When he was finally down, I said, “There are some not bad pieces of clothes in the theater department. If you hurry, you might beat the theater geeks. They probably won’t miss them too much, and if they do, then get them washed and back in there before they notice you. Oh, and don’t pick something that looks like it’s from the fifties. They’re doing West Side Story.”

              And with that, I walked away from the kid. He was on his own. I had done my civic duty of the day. He could go follow the instructions I had given him. I was sure I had done enough for him. My karma would right itself once more. I was sure. Maybe I did feel my karma needed just a bit of work. I don’t know. But, how does that old adage go? Something about good deeds and being punished?

I’ll be putting this on Wattpad a few days earlier if you really like the story. 

[ameliasnormandy]

General query

Hey everyone,

 I know it’s been a little since I wrote anything, well, more like since I posted anything. Life’s been crazy. And usually, I just post fanfiction, and I’m done, but this time I’m posting a general query. I’ve been thinking of doing this for a while but never really had the guts before. But here it is. I have been thinking about making a Patreon for some fanfictions and other writings. I would also do some other fun writing things for me. Prompts. Writing lessons that I follow and give. Some of my short stories. Other works, like that. Even playlists I make for specific pieces I am working on.

              I just worry because I know I have a hard time staying with something, so I would have to make sure if I fall behind or stop, you guys aren’t paying me for nothing.

              But I guess the important thing right now is, would any of you actually support me? Or should I only post on here?

              Thank you for any opinions.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

unfortunately I’m watching supernatural and someone on screen said ‘there are No Wolves in pennsylvania’ and I was like. what a bold incorrect statement. where did they possibly get that idea from. so I googled it…google is insisting there are no wild wolves in pa?? except I’ve Seen wolves here?? there used to be a wolf that would hang out in my backyard and roam around the neighborhood?? like Everyone knew about this wolf we assumed he lived on the golf course and would come to our yards if he got spooked by golfers (very quiet block). like we all thought he just lost his pack or whatever so people just gave him a wide space and let him chill, he didn’t try to break into any houses or attack any pets but this was definitely. a wild wolf. where. where did he come from what do you MEAN there aren’t wolves in pennsylvania I’m literally spiraling right now

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

still feeling so gut-punched over this

[the-ginger-is-loose-again]

To be fair, PA also said “we did not reintroduce mountain lions, they are not there, you’re seeing really big house cats, please keep coming to the parks and camp sites and ignore that video, that was totally not a mountain lion, someone took last week”

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay I’m sorry but this came up on pinterest and I Screamed

you are the state of Pennsylvania (allegedly)

[jovialgnomejpeg]

i just showed this to a friend from pennsylvania and 1. theyre losing their mind bc theyve seen mountain lions which prompted them to look it up which leads me to 2. this fucking bonkers article

[caption: “We’ve been here 45 years and I’ve probably been told by people at least 100 t imes that they’ve seen a cougar or mountain lion,” said owner Vince Hall. “I kind of doubt they saw a cougar, but I’m not God.”]

[inkloom]

PA: I can’t believe we’ve lost all our native apex predators Citizens of PA: there’s a mountain lion right there PA: sometimes we can still hear the sound of them scaring away tourists

[novas-grimoire]

…PA has fucking EMUS and you want me to believe we have no wolves or mountain lions?

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

what the fuck do you mean we have emus

[lynati]

http://emusontheridge.com/ https://www.abc27.com/news/us-world/strange/update-runaway-perry-county-emu-found-after-seven-months-on-the-run/

[hungry-skeleton]

Guys, I’ve cracked it

This thing goes all the way to the top

[catblog-weatherwax]

‘Mystery animal’ escapes from Pennsylvania wildlife rescue

Rescuers still don't know what the animal is... and now it's on the loose.

[genedoucette]

what the fuck is happening in pennsylvania

[thatdorianguy]

As a regretful born and raised Pennsylvanian, we have wolves, coywolves, mountain lions, lynx, and coyotes. Not a single person in authority will admit to there being anything but coyotes and lynx. If you see a cougar, they will tell you you saw a lynx. If you see a wolf, they will tell you you saw a coyote. Ignore the massive differences in sizes. No one knows what a coywolf is but we have them. I have seen a cougar with my own two goddamned eyes. There is an entire nature park whose main attractions are the cougars and wolves (and bison but we’re not talking about them) - it’s called Penn’s Cave, it’s been there forever. Everyone I know has seen a cougar or wolf at least once in the woods.

So what I’m getting at is don’t trust the government.

[krakenartificer]

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[tumblgang]

She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.

[skuubasally]

Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.

[luckytaters]

who the fuck is Madame Zeroni

[saudadesinfinitas-deactivated20]

Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is

[drayaintshit-deactivated2019030]

☝🏾😂

[callmedeku24]

Man lissen if you don’t know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button

[emeraldmercury]

Idk who she is but I have an exam today so I’ll reblog her

[haiku-robot]

idk who she is but i have an exam today so i’ll reblog her

^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!

[catchymemes]

[beaky-peartree]

captain hook: arrrg i miss vine. twas me fav’rit app

smee: but capn! there’s a new app! its not exactly the same but it’s very similar!

captain hook: what’s it called?

smee: um

[lickthemagaindeacy]

FUCK

[not-close-to-straight]

This is a next level joke

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Solas's bonding scene is so wild he just takes you to YOUR room to stand on YOUR balcony and he thinks he's being mysterious and maybe a little sexy but instead he's just being racist and this is the HIGH approval scene. Like if you get on with this boy enough he will be racist at you in your own damn bedroom like...do u think this is why the dreadwolf is remembered as a bit of a tricky dick?

[notebooks-and-laptops]

[politijohn]

The world stands with Ukraine

Tbilisi, Georgia

St. Petersburg, Russia

London, England

Paris, France

Thessaloniki, Greece

Rome, Italy

Berlin, Germany

Tokyo, Japan

Montenegro

Mumbai, India

[politijohn]

Warsaw, Poland

Lebanon

Amsterdam, Netherlands

Istanbul, Turkey

New York City, United States

[politijohn]

Toronto, Canada

Vienna, Austria

Binnish, Syria

Dublin, Ireland

Barcelona, Spain

Melbourne, Australia

Riga, Latvia

Tel Aviv, Israel

Copenhagen, Denmark

Bern, Switzerland

[politijohn]

Sarajevo, Bosnia

Ljubljana, Slovenia

Tallinn, Estonia

Stockholm, Sweden

Helsinki, Finland

Reykjavík, Iceland

[fthgurdy]

Even symbolic support is not meaningless; with every such gesture you are preventing the claim that no one cares, no one opposes, no one disagrees, no one minds.

[hoechloin]

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

@byebyeskylark always has the best tags.

[topato-matato]

In the comics right now people actually think Lois is cheating on Clark with Superman so it’d be amazing if she used this as a cover story

@thefingerfuckingfemalefury

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

:D

I will be so happy if that is how she and Clark deal with this situation

[evillordzog]

Okay, but they’d be cowards not to have a situation where Supes is busted leaving Clark’s apartment while Lois is known to be elsewhere and Clark has to pass it off as it’s all 3 of them, not just Lois and her harem

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

Everyone in the DCU thinking Superman has regular threesomes with Lois Lane and Clark Kent is a canon I am here for :D

[dax-micro]

Seconded.

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

Make it happen DC :D

[darkbluemint]

Villain, who kidnapped Clark and Lois: Superman has to do everything I tell him to, I’ve both his boyfriend and his girlfriend!!

Lois Lane, who knows the truth: *laughing uproariously*

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

“YOU DIDN’T PLAN THIS WELL”

[skrytch]

thats when Batman crashes in through the the skylight (because there’s always a skylight) takes out all the baddies and when they’re all safe gives Clark a quick peck on the cheek and a Lois a friendly now before asking “so my place for dinner next week? Damian’s dying to here more of your war stories Lolo” before ziplining away into the night.

TLDR plot twist: Lois and Clark are in a poly relationship… But it’s with Bruce.

[thyrell]

wait hold on i thought you said it was with batman who the fuck is bruce

[the-haiku-bot]

wait hold on i thought

you said it was with batman

who the fuck is bruce

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[that-wildwolf]

All my Shakarian playlists (so far): a masterpost

The main, the one and only:

Specific playlists for my Shakarian fics:

And also there's this:

[masseffect-chats]

It’s been awhile, but here are some new ones ;)

[ameliasnormandy]

Hey Disney Kingdom Keepers Idea (Please Reblog if you love this as much as I do)

              Hey again,

                             So, I have been thinking about a new idea (I know, I’m always thinking of new ideas). There was a book series that I loved when I was younger, Kingdom Keepers. Kingdom Keepers followed the story of five young adults (like 13 to 15) that became Disney World (and then later other Disney locations) Holograms. They are used to communicate information to the guests. The real reason they are made Disney tour holograms is to explore the park and help save Disney from the evil lurking around, usually from one of my favorite Disney villains of all time, Maleficent. By making them holograms for the park, they become part of the park.

              Anyway, I have thought that now is the time for Disney to make a live-action version. I mean, they have Disney+ (though the version that I see might be a little bit better on Hulu, hey, Disney is totally allowed to do what it wants) and all. I have a few notes on what I think would make it a little more interesting (I always do, I love to add my own thoughts into everything).

So, first, I think that they should embrace the idea that the book exists in the world of the TV show. Let the characters, or a few of them read the book, go a little meta. There isn’t anything wrong with embracing the meta. Sometimes it can add a little to the story. The characters have heard about the story. Some of the characters more likely to accept it, while others seem to dismiss the idea more readily. Given this meta-writing theory, the audience doesn’t have any preconceptions going in because the characters are not the book characters. They are a separate entity that knows about the book, but they are not forced to follow what the book says.

              The second thing that I think Disney should do is raise the age of all of them. Making the Kingdom Keepers in their early to mid-twenties helps in so many ways. One the books would become popular again, with all crowds. The younger crowd could grow up along with the book before finding themselves falling for the older characters, which they can grow up with again. The older generations that have already read the books will find it refreshing that they could find a character close to the struggles that they are facing. It will also allow the writers to use the book as a jumping-off point without forcing them to use it as its main source (again, it’s super ok to be meta). Also, the people that can afford to go to Disney alone are millennials and some Gen Zers. Giving them a show that will connect back to the parks could give them even more reason to go and inspiration to go.

              The third thing that I think Disney would want to do is change the story just a little. Make one or two of the stars people that some people have seen before. Disney has a catalogue of actors right now that would be great for this. This could make the story more interesting because now we have people who the world knows mixed with people that could blend in with the crowds. This would change the dynamic of the group and make them communicate with each other. Also, I am not saying that they couldn’t use all people that the world knows. I am simply saying that in the world of the show, only one or two should be people that are already known (bonus points for Disney using one of their own people, like a Disney channel star).

              Why would Disney benefit from this (because they are a private company and one of their main things is money)? More people might want to go to Disney, and with the crowds waning, it might be a good thing. Also, Disney could use the lower crowds to their advantage when it comes to filming, and if you think about what is about to come to Disney World (the 50th anniversary), this is the perfect time to do it. It would be something even more extraordinary to add to the already impressive lineup. Disney could find a place (near Disney World) to film down there for sites that they couldn’t get filmed in the actual park, and later that area could become a touristy area in-of-itself (Yay for them, more profit).

Adding Disney music (which they have a ton of) could make a killer soundtrack and would actually be cheaper for them than adding a new soundtrack (filled with new songs) to a show.

Disney could also use the songs, the characters, and the story itself to create a unique collection of souvenirs, as a bonus, of course.

              Disney could really have an exciting hit on their hands. Now, I am going to ask something that I don’t usually ask. Please, if you like this idea, please like it. If you think this might be an ok idea, reblog it and share it with everyone you like (or don’t like). I know the likelihood of this getting to Disney is a million in 1, but if there is even a chance for this to happen, I would love to see it, and I would need your help.

I would hope that Disney would be willing to let me be a small piece of this, but I know they are a company. I know that, in reality, they don’t have to bend to my whim. It’s partly owned by them (the other owned by the author Ridley Pearson). They have every right to do what they want with their own intellectual property, but still, it would be nice if they were at least slightly interested in letting me be part of this. I mean, I think I could help them bring some fresh ideas to all of this (I already have so many more, if you want to hear, let me know). Now, again this only works if Disney is interested. Again, I implore anyone who thinks this might be a good idea to reblog and like, and share wherever you can.

Maybe together, we can all do something really extraordinary. Thank you!

[queer-as-frikc]

rb to give your mutuals a little boop on the nose :3

[ameliasnormandy]

Memories of Univille Warehouse 13 Fanfic On going piece

“These people aren’t doing anything to the president,” the chief of police said. They stood in a police barracks. It was a small police barracks at that. It was tight, and there was really only room for that tiny desk in the front and two chairs. Pete was looking around the room, and Myka was trying to focus on the police chief. This seemed harder for her than it should have been. It also seemed that the room was busier than normal. They were understandably confused. Dead were raising. These weren’t times that the police could be chill. The police chef was dressed for this occasion if anyone could ever be dressed for the occasion. His uniform was shiny.

              “We understand that, sir, but we have credible information that something dangerous could be going on,” Mikah said, only taking a second to glance over at Pete.

              “And what is this dangerous thing that could be happening?” the chief said, leaning just a little further in his chair. Mikah could hear it squeaking just a little under his weight. The man was a little rotund, but he seemed to still be in reasonably good shape. He could have been in far worse shape. That much was true. He had grey hair on both his head and his face. He had these steely grey eyes that were probably attractive when he was younger, but no longer looked that way. Now it was all about intimidating. The only thing that mattered now was showing people that he was in charge, and he was in the respect that he was the chief of police. No matter that it was for a small town that no one had ever heard of. That part didn’t matter. Not really. He had power, and that is what he wanted; that was what mattered to him.

              “We just feel that there are a group of people infiltrating morgues,” Pete said, keeping his eyes on the police chief.

              “I doubt that,” the police chef said.

              “We have good reason to believe this. Is there anything from your morgues been missing? Or is there something in the local morgues that wasn’t there before and is there now?” Mikah asked, trying to keep with Pete’s logic.

              “No,” the police chief said. “I don’t think that there is a reason for me to involve any of my department.”

              “We aren’t asking for that. We are simply asking for any information from the morgues that you have.”

              “We have none. Now, please, we have actual work that needs to be done.”

………………..

He had actual work to do. That statement was a joke, and I think that, in reality, he knew that. He lived in a smaller town, the Univille. I actually loved Univille. I miss it. I am not sure that many people can say that. I am not sure how many people want to say that they miss Univille, but I do. I miss it a lot. I miss it more than I miss most things. I know that I can’t go back. Home may be where the heart is, but it’s also true you can’t go home again.

………………..

              “The police have been overwhelmingly kind to us,” Pete said, looking at Mikah.

              “Overwhelmingly?” Mikah asked, opening a desk.

              “Yes, letting us search the latest victim's house,” Pete said, touching the T.V.

              “Must you touch everything?” Mikah asked, opening the desk.

              “Who knows could be a T.V. bringing everyone back to life,” Pete said, laughing to himself about the slight absurdity. “We have seen weirder things after all.”

              “Maybe, but I doubt that it is a T.V. bringing people back to life.”

              “It still could be.”

              “It’s not.”

              “I don’t think whatever brought him…” Mikah stopped talking. She heard a few fallen footsteps. Mikah got up and started slowly walking toward the sound. She snuck down the hallway and up the stairs, and into a room. The room was empty. It was a bedroom, but not one that was used for sleeping. It looked like it was used for storage. She pulled out her tesla and started searching the room. She checked in the closet, but nothing happened. She checked under the bed, but it was nothing. She was just about to walk outside the room when she saw that the curtain moving. She walked toward the window and leaned out. She saw a blur going up to the roof. “They’re on the roof.”

              Pete had already started dashing outside, and Mikah was following them up. She climbed out the window. She pulled herself onto the following window and then up to the last window, but the person was gone by then. Pete was standing outside. Mikah on the roof, but neither of them could see the person that they were after.

              “What happened?” Pete screamed.

[ameliasnormandy]

An artifact of the Morgue  Warehouse 13 fanfic  Ongoing piece (Ask for the full thing)

Pete and Mikah were at the police station. The only one in this tiny town. The police were overwhelmed with the number of dead people rising from the grave, except they weren’t rising from the graves. They were rising from the almost grave. They were rising from the morgue.

………………..

              So, that is where I went. After all, that was my job. I had promised him that I would find what he wanted. I was sure that I was right when it came to the fact whatever was bringing these people back to life had to do with the morgue. It made the most sense. After all, that was where they were coming back to life. It was the logical step.

              There was nowhere else that it could be. I was sure of that. How could I not be? I had seen many artifacts in my lifetime. I had to study them, understand them, and use them for what I needed to use them for. I had to have the instincts that told me what this was for. Artie didn’t even have the instincts that I did. He only wishes that he had my instincts.

              That is why I found myself breaking into a morgue. I was never a fan of dead bodies, and anyone who says they are is clearly mental. I should be more mental than I am. Many people have said that. Many people have thought that I need to understand that I have to be mental, but no, I refuse to believe that I have to be completely crazy. I refuse to believe that the warehouse has complete control over me or over anyone. We decide our destiny. Everyone who works at the warehouse has to believe that they have a destiny of their own. The warehouse does not take their destiny away. It does not create a new one. It still is ours to decide. I have often told myself that. I have often told myself that it doesn’t matter, yet in the end, it does. In the end, all of this matters.

              It matters whose destiny is changed. It matters if we changed our own. It matters how long it took us to change it. It matters because if we say that it doesn’t, then we forget who we are. We forget everything about ourselves. The warehouse can do that to you. It can make you think that the only thing that matters is the warehouse if you let it, so I made myself matter. Every agent should make themselves matter. It was a simple rule, one that if you don’t want to end up mad, you follow. It was a new rule to follow, and I am still learning.

              So, why am I at a morgue? That’s a freaking great question. The answer is I owe someone. I owe him everything that I have. I owe him more than that, probably. This is my way of paying him back. This was my way of doing the right thing. I guess. As long as I knew what the right thing was. I needed to know the right thing. The truth was I would always help him because he helped me.

              The morgue was empty. I was a little surprised I didn’t need to lie or trick my way into the room. It was something that I had done many times before, but no, this was silent. The room was silent. The silence of the not dead. They should have been dead. This isn’t my job, though. My job is not to worry about the things that should be. My job isn’t even to collect whatever is doing this, but I make this exception for a friend.

              Alright. I don’t have any of the tools that I should have. I don’t have anything that would make this easy, so I have to use my brains if I have any. What kind of artifact would bring people back to life?

              Something from Mary Shelly would do it. I can’t imagine this being a Frankenstein artifact because that would mean that everyone would be coming back to life. Someone could be targeting these people. Well, if they are getting targeted, it could possibly be a Frankenstein artifact. If it is a Frankenstein artifact, it could be anything from the fire poker in the room when she first told the story to the pen she used to actually write the stories.

              Could it have been something to do with Sylvia Plath? Possibly. It was not her typewriter; I knew that one for sure. If I had learned anything from the warehouse, it was simply that Artie wouldn’t let some things leave the warehouse more than others. That typewriter was one no one was going to let leave the warehouse.

              Maybe something with Rasputin. There were a lot of things that could have been there too.

              Or it could have been something that I didn’t even think of. The honest truth was that there were simply too many artifacts that it could have been. None of them seemed to have been in a morgue without raising everyone else that was there, so I left.