#well i feel fairly not sane lately

[bastart13]

I would absolutely support you if you made a picrew, but please prioritize your sanity!! 😅

I'm here to make art and preserve my sanity

and I'm all out of sanity

#not art #don't worry this is jokes #well i feel fairly not sane lately #but i'm not silly enough to do this until at least my degree is finished

[igotanidea]

Nutcracker: Dick Grayson x reader

christmas bingo day 5: nutcracker

***

“You know when you said nutcracker this is definitely not what I was expecting….” Y/N muttered looking at Dick, who, grinning like a madman was standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, dressed in an apron and holding – well, the literal nutcracker.  As in – a kitchen tool.

“Should have known better.” He smiled even wider, causing Y/N to start worrying about his mental health.

“Yeah, I guess I should have known better.” She muttered rubbing her forehead.

“Cas is the fan of ballet, me – not so much” Dick shrugged “besides, if I wanted to spend a few hours with you in a dark room then-“

“Shut up!” she rushed towards him putting a hand on his mouth to stop his babbling “there are kids in this house!”

“Tim is hardly a kid, and Damian-“

“Damian catches up way too fast for a boy his age. And I’m pretty sure you want to avoid the awkward older brother talk with him?”

“Oh sunshine, believe me I’m more than ready for an awkward older brother conversation.” He grabbed her waist and pecked her cheek and before she realised what was happening, she had another white apron tied around her waist.

“Dare I ask-?” she sighed, bracing herself for any crazy idea that might be forming in her boyfriend’s mind

“walnuts. gingerbread.”

“gingerbread?” she repeated, frowning in confusion before it finally hit her “oh no! no! damn it! No way in hell!” instinctively she moved towards the kitchen door, before Dick grabbed her from behind and prevented from escaping his arms.

“It’s a couple bonding exercise!”

“It’s a couple killing practise! Remember what happened last year?! “

“It’s not like I burnt those cookies on purpose! You were extremely distracting with that pout on your face.”

“Can’t remember signing up for a cooking experience with Dick Grayson!!”

“You know that’s actually a nice idea. Maybe I should start my own TV show…”

““you wouldn’t even be able to run a youtube channel-“

“maybe I could juggle oranges while doing a somersault?”

“Oh my god…”

“come on, I am an acrobat, after all.”

“Not the word I would use in this context-“ she rolled her eyes “I’m not baking with you! When Alfred finds out I let you in the kitchen despite my better judgement I’ll -“

“I’ll protect you from Alfred’s wrath” Dick laughed not letting her go. “you’re safe with me baby.”

“He will ban us from the kitchen forever! It’s the only person left in this household that believes I’m sane despite going out with you!”

“Which you are obviously not.” Dick laughed spinning her in his arms and looking at her with the puppy eyes. The expression he worked to perfection during the years. “come on, please… pleeeeaaaassssseeeeeee…….”

“Stop it Grayson! I’m serious… stop it” please stop it, before I give in to your five-year-old antics.     

“Pretty please. Come on, Y/N…. Just say yes.. .It’s gonna be fun I promise…”

 “It’s really not too late to buy the ballet tickets Dick…” she muttered, feeling her resistance breaking despite knowing well enough how the baking experience with Dick Grayson will end.

“That’s for another occasion.”

***

Two hours later, as predicted, kitchen looked like batterfield. Nut shells splattered everywhere, including Y/N’s hair, flour on her clothes that happened to not be covered by the apron and a sticky smudge of spice on her forehead made her similar to a gingerbread man (woman). While she was huffing and puffing making the dough, shaping cookies and decorating them, Dick just sit on the counter watching her with a loving eyes, making a mess and not helping at all. He didn’t even bother to open the over for her, at least not until she almost burned herself trying to balance the quite heavy baking tray in one hand. It was a miracle she survived this.

“couple bonding exercise, my ass.” She hissed, brushing her hair away with a wrist, fairly annoyed that she had to do  all the work.

“I definitely feel bound to you.” He smiled at her, jumping off the counter.

“you didn’t even move a finger-“ before she could finish he cut off her off with the kiss.

“can’t you be original, once?” she scoffed pulling back “cutting off with a kiss is just so predictable, man-like gesture.”

“Can’t blame me. You taste the sweetest.” Dick only laughed in response, wiping off the streak of honey which she was stained with in the corner of her mouth. “Better than the cookies.”

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #christmas bingo

[possibilistfanfiction]

do you have any funny or cute details about Bea(or avatrice) in your butch Bea universe that you haven't share yet?

(I'm definitely re-reading some of it to fight against this bad day I'm having)

hello i’m sry this is late! work has been busy 😵‍💫 i hope ur day improved or at least there’s been some better days since 🫶

hmm well bea is good at like… every outdoors activity she tries — she’s coordinated & strong & focused, so once she gets the body mechanics down she’s like. above average to Excellent fairly quickly. surfing, trail running, backcountry hiking, bouldering, trad climbing, skiing, etc. i am lazy & put them in socal since i am in socal lmao but for the majority of the year california really is just outdoor enthusiast paradise.

she started trying stuff bc ava was gone & she was so sad & when her cool friends from surfing were planning a trip to climb in joshua tree or some ppl she met on the pct were driving up to mammoth for an end of the season ski, it was all better to be moving outside in grief than it was to sit at home in an empty house.

i think that maybe she worries, when she’s alone surfing or on a long run along the cliffs, even just bouldering at the gym with her airpods in instead of hanging out w friends who are there — maybe she worries that ava would be disappointed in her, that this isn’t what ava meant by ‘live your life’ — quiet streams & long car rides into the piney forest in a practical small suv, listening to a podcast about architecture. it seems small, to be in the wild — the ocean, the woods, the mountains, the desert — & not grand; at least, she feels small. she worries ava wanted her to feel big.

but then ava comes back & bea has been keeping a list of all the places to show ava, all the things to do with her, the movement & the air that kept her just on this edge of sane. & of course ava is delighted by it all — the kid who cried on the beach when she saw stars? absolutely in love with the waves & the wind in the trees & the sunset on a big hammock on a hot night in the desert in the summer. it makes sense to ava & it is what she meant — settling into the texture of a life.

it’s good to feel small sometimes, yknow? she tells bea, when they’re eating sandwiches a few miles into a hike on the lost coast — ava refuses to camp, so they’re meeting friends later on. it’s good to feel small in a world that’s so big.

they make s’mores that night with their friends & it’s dark & beautiful; the sand & the sea & the sky are all wine-dark & quiet-loud; there are so many stars. it’s rainy & cold in the bay the next day & they sleep in & eat ramen & don’t leave their hotel room all day (ava’s request; if he had to hike ten miles he earned it tenfold). bea worried that a slow day might seem small too, but ava sinks into it just like everything else: rest & softness.

eventually bea gets more used to it, & better at letting it happen. in recovery from top surgery, the worst part is not being able to get outside for a while — but ava drives them both to the mountains & they sit on the balcony together while it snows. when ava can’t move as well, they sit in the warm sand by the beach & bea puts her hand on the small of her back when they walk in the cool surf. eventually bea’s shown ava every place she ached & then there’s the rest of the world left to explore.

#butch bea 🥺🫡 #if i could abscond to the mountains tomorrow forever i simply would #lol

[gunkreads]

So I know every sane person has moved on at this point, but re: the absolutely unmanageable "Is the Wheel of Time Show Good?" discourse:

One of the biggest things stopping me from jumping on the "it's fun!" bandwagon was the ridiculous double standard for "shuffling things around" I kept seeing from both fans and people working on the show. Basically, I saw this group of Staunch Show Defenders say two things that, to me, look directly contradictory (paraphrasing fairly closely):

"I love how the show pulled [late-series arc/theme] into the early show! We're really getting into the Real Wheel of Time!"

"People complaining about [early-series arc/theme] being cut or restructured need to understand how adaptations work. They can't make a 1:1 adaptation, obviously, so this stuff is going to be cut."

As someone who, shockingly, does watch the show because they enjoy it, the consistency with which other show fans put up this contradiction made it difficult to join in on the fun. Looking at it pessimistically, which I admittedly did at first, it reads like "If only you liked the right parts of the books, you'd be having more fun right now!" Now, later, looking at it with intent to understand, it feels... a little myopic behind the well-intentioned argument.

The unaddressed contradiction heavily implies that the later parts of the story are straight-up worth more than the earlier parts, and that feels like missing the trees for the forest. You got all your big ideas, sure, but they were good in the books because they were set up well (to varying degrees). Do I want to see Saidin cleansed? Absolutely. Would I want it to happen in season 3? Fuck no! That event is worth so much less to me if it doesn't come after months of agonizing struggle for Rand and months of painful search for self-actualization for Nynaeve.

Two of the biggest points I'm vagueing about here are 1: Rand's revelation at the end of S1 in his Ishamael-induced hallucinations being pulled straight from book fourteen and 2: the deluge of insight into Tower culture in the middle of S1 that encompasses stuff that was spread out across like five or six books.

I'm not gonna be bitter about it anymore; if I keep writing I will be.

#wheel of time on prime

[princelylove]

Your highness,

You made me think about Risotto Nero and I've went and re read what you had already written about him (which was really fun and lovely, as always) but I've noticed we never really got a proper analysis of him.

As I've said before, I am a sucker for random details and I was wondering if you would kindly share with us some of your headcannons on him, maybe less popular ideas or underrated aspects of him.

Just like with Leone, I feel like he's a very misunderstood, mistreated character and I'm dying to read more about *your* vision of him.

I will humbly take whatever you wish to share with us (me <3)

Heart <3

I’ll be writing for him when I add to my body interpretations, as la squadra esecuzioni is up next, but Risotto needs some more attention, specifically. I agree that he’s incredibly mistreated- that’s the price you pay when you’re that handsome. 

Risotto is quite the stalker. I think of him as the knight in shining armor type, your very own white knight obsessed with protecting you, but being with him directly means involving you in his work, so… from the shadows is fine. 

Risotto knows how to pay attention to the details, he’s a romantic in that sense. He’s very careful not to leave any trace- of course, besides from his ‘gifts.’ It’s nothing flashy, in fact, if you aren’t very perceptive, you won’t notice them at all. The dishes are done. There isn’t any dust. The contents of the refrigerator are all safe, and aren’t expired. Things to that effect. 

After Sorbet & Gelato died, he asked his unit to all move in together, but he isn’t very social, so… he just kind of locks himself in his office all day. They’re safe, and fed, and not miserable (hopefully), so it’s all fine. There’s no need for him to intervene. Prosciutto came a little late, but all’s well. (I should go into the group dynamic more.) 

He talks very slowly, and has a habit of mumbling. His voice is fairly deep, deeper than Leone’s, but it isn’t raspy. While the vowels themselves are clear, he makes his voice as ‘small’ as he can. Risotto doesn’t want to frighten off small, timid creatures. Nevermind the fact that there isn’t a timid soul in that apartment. The most mouselike individual is Pesci, or technically Illuso since he hides in his own world all day, and there’s no reason to speak like that to either of them.

Risotto doesn’t really talk that much, he prefers to sit back (not really, he’s always tense) and listen carefully. He nitpicks his words, although most of it is improv. His quick thinking has kept him his position as capo, and although he heavily dislikes his job, it comes easily to him. 

Metallica isn’t sentient, but he pretends it is, for amusement. He gets lonely easily, his ‘little friends’ keep him sane when the boss sends him on seven hits back to back.

Risotto strikes me as the type of man to have a lot of patience, but eventually, he'll snap. He's the protective type, plagued by 'what-if's and genuine threats to your safety. You can be mad at him, or have whatever feelings you need to have, just know that he won't let you go.

Whatever behavior you exhibit after he kidnaps you is fine. He'll suck it up and bear it until your shoulders stop tensing at his footsteps. Heavy, clear footsteps that don't drag or approach too quickly. He considered using his stand to take care of your needs, you cannot be frightened if you don't know he's there, but it's better if you associate him with safety. It's better if you have a familiar face, too.

You stay in his office, but you're free to wander all around his apartment. A large room that has his bed on one side, and his desk on the other. The bed does not fit him. It's yours until you'll allow him to share it with you.

Once you've adjusted to him... he'll shove his face into you and just breathe in as much of you as he can, before he has to go.

#request granted #my favorite puppy #yandere risotto nero

[pixlostinatos]

For Few Can Take a Broken World (and Still with Beauty Fill it)

so, back in august, @fogwitchoftheevermore and i had a concept for a fic centered around the clones of Mezalea and the concept of them being a bit of a (true) ghost story told in the mesas of tumble town

it was intended to be three sets of paired chapters, one focusing around a season 2 character followed one about their season 1 counterpart in each pair of chapters--jimmy, fwhip, and joel.

it never got finished, and it never will at this point, but i think itd be a shame if we never shared what we did have written, so thats what this post is! we had a lot, so head under the cut to actually read them <3

Jimmy s2

Jimmy has lived in dry areas his whole life, and you pick up on some interesting things, such as a rather unique dialect of sign language that only varies in specific finger motions between the desert and the mesa

Theres some interesting folklore in the mesas, as well

Where most places would blame half-built and incomprehensible structures on the elusive herobrine, mesa-dwellers tell a different story

terracotta people, once part of a beautiful empire, now lost and without purpose, wandering the mesa until either the end of time, or when the magic that sustains them finally fades

Don’t go out too late, elders warn, lest you encounter one of these ghosts. who knows what they might do. Those who've seen them say they’re harmless, just wandering, aimlessly and wordlessly, but no one knows where they came from or why they all share one man's face.

Jimmy runs across one of the clones one night

It calls him the codfather

Jimmy recognizes some weird variation of the sign for fish

Despite its hands having less joints than that of an actual human, the mesa’s sign language is perfectly accessible to the clone. weird

He is very confused

"i mean this is the middle of a fucking desert but sure i can try and get you some????"

it just keeps insisting "you are the codfather" and he gets Very Weirded Out at the fact that this weird doll keeps trying to call him a fish person.

this is almost worse than being called a toy.

Jimmy s1

Mezalea is one of the only places Jimmy is comfortable taking off his head

After all, the clones aren’t truly sentient, and even if they were, its still Joel, right?

The clones aren’t unsettling at all haha why would you suggest such a thing

Jimmy is fairly certain the man isnt entirely sane. But hes not unkind and Lizzie loves him and despite his slightly overinflated ego, Jimmy considers him a good friend.

fWhip s2

Jimmy tells him, as his number 2 deputy, there's some Weird Shit about the mesa he should probably know

Aka the clay people. They’re not aggressive, in fact, they somehow seem almost sad, but they’re still scary as shit

Fwhip runs into one despite the warning anyway

The fact that it looks strikingly like Joel isn’t the first thing he notices. The first thing he notices is that they’re building some sort of… something. It looks like a sort of tower with a rounded top, he doesn’t quite get it.

The second thing he notices is that it looks strikingly like Joel.

Or, sort of? Those are Joel’s eyes, and the general shape of his face and body, but this clay person doesn’t have a beard and it’s much smaller than Joel (still, comparatively to Fwhip, very tall, but we don’t have to talk about that)

The clay person is just as confused as Fwhip is when they first see each other

Fwhip gives it some sort of greeting (cause I mean, they are just people, right?) and it perks up in a strange way

It walks closer to him and starts making a sign with its hands. He doesn’t quite recognize it, Jimmy has started teaching him the mesa’s sign language but he’s not very good at it yet. He recognizes that the sign for gunpowder is in there somewhere, and one of the signs feels very familiar, but that’s about all he gets.

The clay man is trying to ask him “are you Fwhip?” but it’s not communicating correctly at all

Fwhip tries to ask if they need something, if they want to go see the sheriff, and it nods at the mention of Jimmy, so he takes them back to Tumble Town

Jimmy is very confused about why Fwhip brought it here, and when it starts trying to say “you are the codfather” he tells Fwhip that the ones he’s run into have been making those hand signs at him but he hasn’t figured out what it means

Neither of them quite know what to do with this person and kinda decide to just… let them go and hope they figure out what they need to do

fWhip s1

Unsettling mention of the fountain statues being approximately just as sentient as the other clones, despite having extremely limited joint movement. “Elaborate on that.” “no”

The clones’ sign for Fwhip’s name is a mix between the signs for redstone and gunpowder

Fwhip didn’t learn that many of the signs because he didn’t run into them very often. He learned most of the emperor’s name signs, but he adamantly refused to learn Jimmy’s because, and I quote: “why would I ever need to talk to them about him. I’m not sending messages to him. Fuck that guy.” He also learned stuff like terracotta and concrete, gunpowder, and different dyes

He practices the signs a lot because even though he doesn’t run into Joel very often and is like sorta enemies with him??? he wants to be able to easily do trade deals and such

Joel s2

He doesn't like this

It's not like looking into a mirror, looking down at this little clay face

He's tall and strong and sexy and handsome and a god and did he mention tall

But he remembers full well what he looked like before jumping into that fountain and ascending to godhood oh so many decades ago

And this is eerily similar to that

It's even got the same strip of green curls he’s always had, nestled into the shorter, darker hair

But it doesn't have a nose. Or a mouth

Not that photographs exist here, of course, but its like looking at a polaroid of yourself from a few years prior but changed just so. Its creepy as hell

There are. Many.

And they start bowing

As they should! He's a god and everyone should bow to him!

But it feels wrong

(that's his face)

And the one that first approached him asks him what they should build

He never learned the mesa’s unique sign language

How does he understand it?

Unimportant. it asked for his opinion.

(what will piss off jimmy the most?)

(he isn't sure why, but he thinks a salmon could be funny)

He tells them to build [toy story reference]

The moment they get to work he flies off

Maybe he should stop calling jimmy a toy actually

After seeing those dolls, he feels like thats giving him far too much credit

But no. the joke is too funny to give it up now

Joel s1

Gem and Pixl are both not exactly happy about his usage of blood sacrifice, but it's all his own blood, so they can't actually justify stopping him, only just voicing Disapproval

He crafts each clone with care

They shatter, sometimes. Terracotta is strong, but it’s brittle.

Yet somehow, the first he created is still with him now

There have been so many

Builders, messengers, trade managers, statues, cleaners, warriors

Each especially is formed slightly different

But they all take a life to make

No single person can lose that much blood and survive

But for the rulers, death cannot be caused by something as unimportant to fates grand design as a little self-inflicted bloodletting

(killing yourself that much, even knowing you’ll come right back, is not exactly great for your psyche)

(there's a reason Pixl asks him to stop making him add candles to the Vigil, a pained undercurrent to the voice he tries to keep light, every time he visits)

The first he made had defined middle and index fingers, despite the two being fused together

It was kinda weird and unsettling though, so he started making them into one slightly wider finger

He went back to the original design eventually, his grip on his sanity slipping just enough for him to find it funny instead of creepy

They already shared his face after all

The Mother Tree accepts his blood freely, and gives life to the clay dolls all the same

The explosion that destroys the Palace also kills the Mother Tree

However, the servants were always built in such a way that they could outlast their creators

Otherwise, older clones would die the moment Joel sacrificed himself to make a new one

When joel died, the clones lost their way

They weren't actually sentient, after all, only having a very rudimentary sort of magical artificial intelligence

So while they could talk, and recognize people, and take orders from their King

(their Creator)

(their God)

They had no true higher thought

And could only fulfill the purposes they were created for

(the Messenger servants were the first to fall, though the ones meant to send messages to wetter climates, to lizzie and scott and jimmy, were more durable and stood longer)

(the Statues never moved, as they were never built to. They remain buried under the dunes of what was once mezalea. Maybe one day they will once again be displayed as a sign of their Creators might)

(after thousands of years, only the Builders still wandered the earth)

(yet still they were always drawn to mesas)

(it is all they knew, after all)

(and the heat of the desert sun would keep moisture from cracking them from the inside out)

(after all, a broken clone is of no use to its King)

(without their Creator to guide them, their builds had no direction)

(simple structures that only the most dedicated archeologists may even have the hope of recognizing as fragments of the old Mezalean build style)

#empires smp #empires sheriff #the codfather #empires solidarity #empires smallishbeans #empires fwhip #goblin fwhip #count fwhip #mezalean king joel #mezalean king #ostinatos post #ostinatos writing #i was in charge of the joel chapters and space was in charge of the fwhip chapters and we were collabing on the jimmy chapters #the title comes from Pellinore And The Beast by the Mechanisms btw! definitely one of my favorite mechs songs (along with Stranger)

[beardedmrbean]

I was wondering if I could ask for your advice on something that's been bothering me lately:

I've moved out for the first time, and I'm living in another country, new to the city I'm in. I'm a writer and want to be a published author, but I've all my stories rejected, and I'm beginning to really struggle. I feel like a massive failure, and that I won't get the job I want, or a good career.

Were you ever like this? If so, how did you move forward?

Sorry about the delay here, wanted to be sure I could give this the time it may need and a rushed 10 min isn't that.

This is a rough situation, I've never changed countries but moving from CA to Florida may as well have been doing that it's rough, job I'd been counting on when I moved out fell out from under my feet after a couple of days and I had what I had in the bank to keep me going in the hopes that I'd find something else.

In my case in retrospect, I should have just gone back to CA but I was doing ok for the first few years so no way of knowing that even when it all kicked off.

It's tough and likely gonna be tough for while,

As author stuff goes, I'm not really in the know about that kind of thing I've done fairly straight forward work most of the time, haven't had to send out things like manuscripts.

@dadpat-tactual and @robert-the-foul have books published I believe, they'll have more info on that than I will.

As for having everything collapse around you, been there a few times, keeping busy is probably the best thing I can suggest doing, be it writing or whatever it is you do, talking to a friend just a few min ago about how SeaWorld managed to contribute to me staying sane, they had a annual pass I could afford and it was a place I could go and just see things, sit and enjoy the pet show and such ride the rides.

It's likely going to suck for a while, but find something as well as someone or a group of some sort, you may not be a person of faith but honestly that doesn't really matter if you find a good church to attend, just some way to get plugged in and meet some people and have it so you're doing something.

Because if you just obsess over rejections or writers block you'll likely head down a bad path,

I'll be rootin for you, get ya on my prayer list, wish I could be more help but there's a lot there that's out of my realm of experience.

I also have a bunch of really helpful people following me that might have something to add as well, so check in on the notes on this post maybe they'll have some good suggestions for you

#anonymous

[majimemegoro]

meet kadokura. bored obsessive rich arms dealer and military contractor who also has ties with organized crime; sometime serial killer. friends with sagawa and andre richardson. drinker of absinthe. black monday affiliate. stalker. REALLY likes guns. 

this is mostly for @skygayzer whos writing kadokura into something, but i guess i might as well post it. please be warned that this is a horrible horrible man

appearance/mannerisms

average height or below, but taller than sato. does work out pretty regularly, im imagining like kickboxing or something, but hes nowhere near as fit or starved as he was in his mercenary days. basically an impressive body for a businessman and no better than that. good shoulders, fairly thin, no six pack in sight.

hes handsome and charming. a little bit lined up, especially smile lines and around his eyes. the vibes are like.... a 35-year-old, but whos been a lil toasted. a lil scorched and dried up.

smiles easily and often, expressive face and body.

Jaw Line Of The Ages

in the later timeline, probably does have a bit of grey hair but dyes it. hair slightly wavy but he keeps it pretty short

well dressed but not flashy. hes a businessman, you got your white shirt, your boring dark grey two-piece suit or whatever, some kinda tie, idk

he often fidgets with his arms and legs or stuff he has in his pockets (gun, screwdriver, cigarettes). but is also capable of sitting perfectly still and being or pretending to be relaxed. a bit of an oral fixation and will chew on objects or eat hard candy occasionally

basic life stuff/habits

lets start with the root issue: hes a total nihilist. he doesnt believe that anything matters and hes just out to have a good time as long as he can.

all of this does make him miserable on a fundamental level but hes Very skilled at pushing those feelings away and distracting himself with work and pleasure.

no fear of death, little self-preservation instinct. but also excited by competence so if hes like attacked or whatever hes not gonna just lie down and die.

lives in sapporo, i think he probably grew up there too. has a mansion outside the city. also has apartments in tokyo and osaka bc hes there often for work. also has a property in the county outside tokyo, in the forest, where he can Deal With Stuff Quietly (like probelmatic people etc.). fun fact thats where [y0 spoilers] nishiki brought kiryu in the car. that was the driveway to kadokura’s Dirty Tricks House

hes pretty good at operating on little sleep, but actually keeps a fairly regular and sane sleeping schedule. say 6-7 hours a night except when hes doing insane thing or working late for some deadline or important deal. may use substnces to supplement sleep where necessary.

drinks alcohol on the regular but in moderation. certified Absinthe EnjoyerTM but likes other stuff too, not too picky. does sometimes get insanely intoxicated but its usually on purpose. overall he has control over his drinking habits though they arent exactly healthy

does smoke, but not a huge amount. like once or twice a day, sometimes less.

at least in the yakuza (but some of his legit business partners too) people mostly know whats up with him but no one makes a big deal about it bc hes influential and important. sometimes you just gotta turn a blind eye to the fact that your arms supplier is a serial killer on the side. power structures be like that.

in general hes surprisingly easygoing, like he will laugh along if someone who knows him calls him a twisted cycle path or whatever.

that said, he can be sensitive about little things, like if someone teases him regarding some minor aspect of his appearance, or doesnt respect his reputation. BLACKLISTED.

work

hes like... in charge of a weapons manufacturing company and involved with arms trade stuff idk

what does he actualy do??? uhhhhhh he goes to meetings and talks on the phone and sometimes attends conferences and shows. travels a lot. schmoozes. i guess hes supposedly involved in development a little too, always happy to get his grubby little hands on prototype weapons

his business is legit but he has tons of ties to organized crime soooo idk. hes invested in having an appearance as an upright businessman though so he tries not to screw anyone over too obviously. surprisingly reliable partner..... most of the time.

also a surprisingly good boss. despite his bad traits, hes reasonable and accommodating to his employees (both in his company and the staff at his house). would never hurt or kill any of them. generous with pay and bonuses.

has no nishida figure, because he dismisses any personal assistant when they seem to start caring too much about him. spreads the work out so he never relies too much on just one person (that’s a recipe for disaster)

relationships

ties with both the tojo clan and omi alliance. espeicllay strong ties with the hokkaido yakuza and Kitakata bc thats where hes based but yknow. hokkaidos small fry.

also close ties with jingweon mafia

international arms dealer so sells to govts and stuff like that too

friends with sagawa

beef with nishiki’s parents & especially his dad

personally headhunted sato kiyoshi into becoming an assassin

beef with nishitani, idk why really

collects skilled killers

spare time/hobbies

really likes guns and shooting so will go to public or private shooting ranges when he gets the chance, to watch people at work and scope out talent or just keep an eye on who the good marksmen are. also has his own private shooting range which has a huge one-way mirror so he can watch without being seen.

he likes going to parties & clubbing etc., when hes in the mood, which is often but not all the time. doesnt like tripping out or doing any psychedelic drugs but otherwise is up to try pretty much anything.

will go to hostess clubs and stuff but not interested in dating or flings

why does he go then ??? not sure, maybe he gets a thrill out of acting normal with the girls but thinking about killing them idk. generally would not kill a hostess though—too much fuss.

honestly prefers to spend most of his time at home alone, but i guess he doesnt have a lot of spare time. will cook and learn languages.

insanely good at learning languages. probably at least fluent in english, mandarin, korean, swahili, vietnamese and french. speaks english with british pronunciation lol

probably cant handle the tones in cantonese loser lol

cooks mostly fancy western stuff like steaks or whatever

there have been periods where he had someone locked in his basement to torment when he felt like it. hasnt done that for awhile probably but the facilities are still there.

mostly only does recreational serial killing when hes in an extreme state of stress and doesnt have anything better to distract him.

what is better to distratct him? Stalking and fixating on an interesting person of course! Likes to sponsor/corrupt people he thinks have the potential to be excellent assassins.

fighting

hes not like a world class fighter or anything, but he is practised and brutal where necessary. soldier’s training rather than fancier martial arts.

really good marksman with a handgun. also good with machine guns. not a great sniper, but competent enough.

i think he uses one of those big brutal looking assisted-open knifes.

backstory

what was his childhood like? how did he end up so rich and powerful?? we just dont know and good luck getting him to talk about it. he wont even tell ME.

but during the mid-late 1960s at least he was a mercenary and did war crimes in the congo. probably involved in a few other conflicts closer to home but idk the details. i only put him in the congo because he worked with Roland and Van Owen tbh

I dont know if he was already rich at that point & was just mercing for fun & experience or if he hadnt yet had material succes. It Is A Mystery.

kadokura might actually be a fake name.

anway if you read all this thanks i guess! kadokura is OPEN-SOURCE to my comrades and if you ever want to name drop him in anything or straight up use him as a character, you can do that, including if you want to contradict any of the stuff i wrote here. he contains multitudes. just tag me or whatever so i can see !!! also lemme know if you have an OC who seems like they would interact with him and i can try to at least do a name-drop somewhere >:)

oh yea and ifyou want to ur allowed to kill him too, he deserves it <3

#kadokura #my oc #memecomradeoriginal #yakuza oc #if anyone with yakuza OC reading this please make a similar post so i can see !

[snowflakesnsundry]

Chapter 75: Faithless

Hello lovlies! I am sorry this came so late. I am in the midst of moving so things have been a bit of a mess. I am going to try and get back to my usual Friday schedule, but things may be a bit sporadic until the 2nd or 3rd week of April. I really appreciate your patience <3 Love yall!

_________________________________________________________

He had not intended to spy.

He had no intention to sneak in behind her, or to listen in on the conversation she and his brother had shared-one he was absolutely sure he had not been meant to hear; but fear was an unyielding master whose venomous whispers Loki still struggled to withstand.

That morning, his mother had been more than gracious when he had found her in the gardens. She had insisted he repay her “wasted” time by attending to her at some of her more tedious meetings- but it was a penance he was more than willing to pay. Despite finally being free of his prison, Loki had found few moments to spend with his mother outside of meals- and given that she was the only member of the royal family he could firmly say was both conscious and sane- he worried she too might be feeling a little more alone. Not that such a feeling was foreign to him- loneliness was something he had felt often; but over the last few months, that had changed. 

Wandering back to his quarters he had felt unusually light. The sidelong glances and whispers- to which he had always been painfully attuned- went unnoticed. He was, in that moment, lost in his thoughts- thoughts that had brought the whisper of a smile to the corners of his eyes. 

She had returned to him.

And she had done it of her own accord. There was no pleading or coaxing- no trickery required; nothing that would leave room for doubt to worm its way into his mind. For the first time, someone had seen the very worst of him- and chosen to remain. He still doubted her sanity for it, but-for now- it was a gift he would not question. 

Loki was mildly disappointed to find her gone when he returned, but as she had all but told him she would be in the library, it hadn’t raised any alarms. When he scoured the library and found her nowhere-he ignored the uncomfortable edge of anxiety that was beginning to form. Perhaps he had simply missed her- perhaps she was already back in his quarters; or might she have gone to hers? 

When he moved through the halls, he did so a bit more purposefully this time. His steps were quicker, and he told himself it was because the distance between her quarters and his was so long. He told himself it was because he did not want to keep her waiting. 

But he knew better. 

There was no response when he rapped the door- no matter how loudly, or how many times, he tried. For a moment he found himself considering things he knew were unreasonable- and yet…

He made sure to look both ways down the hall and ensure he was alone before he closed his eyes. He knew the room on the other side well enough- and projecting himself like this was almost second nature now. As he moved carefully through her quarters, he wondered why he was trying to be quiet. Why was he trying to move through the space unseen? 

Force of habit?

The muscles of his jaw began to tighten as each room came up empty. Loki told himself that was good- it was what he had been hoping for. He told himself that he had done this only to be sure nothing had happened to her in his absence. 

Thor was not himself, and Baldur could never be trusted…

It helped keep the truth buried deep in his mind-though for how much longer, he could not say. His heart rate had slowly begun to build, and he could not slow it no matter how hard he tried to slow it down. 

She changed her mind fairly quickly.

Because she cared for him.

Whims move just as quickly one way as they do another. 

Loki swallowed hard and opened his eyes. She would be in his room. She would be there and everything would be fine. 

When his own quarters came up empty once again, a creeping panic began to settle in. Had she left? Where would she have gone? 

Where did he think? He had given her a map out of the palace, after all. 

She couldn’t have left. He still had the map in his possession. Pacing back and forth across the floor, he insisted to himself that she would return. No new bruises or cuts had appeared on his skin- no pain to indicate someone might have harmed her. The palace was too damnably big, and there was every possibility she might have gotten lost- but there were too many hallways- too many corners in which someone could hide.  He had set up precautions for just that situation- prepared for it so that, if another attack came to the palace, he could quickly find her. Regrettably- he had also ruined any possibility that those preparations might have been of use to him the moment he refused to return her things to her. 

With a turn of his hand, Loki brought them back. The map weighed heavy in his hand- and as he placed it and her notebook down on his bed, he wondered if his only remaining choice would be to wait . 

He despised waiting- it would only allow his mind to turn over further fears-so he resolved to seek her out. How he would do so was yet to be determined, but it would not be the first time he had departed without a plan. 

#UntilDust #Loki #Loki marvel #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki reader insert

[thessalian]

Thess vs Nurturing Instinct

So I’ve finally convinced myself to stop Doing Shit and just have the relaxing weekend I promised myself. Because, seriously, I promised that THIS weekend would be a nice relaxing weekend to let my body recover from the insane pain flares of the week.

But I needed groceries so that involved unpacking them when they got delivered and cleaning out the fridge. And I wanted to do some gardening and Did Myself An Ow. And then more gardening today, with an emergency repotting and a fair bit of reorganisation. And then I realised that the doormat I keep inside so I’m not tracking crap onto the carpet (crap as the carpets already are) probably needed to be shaken and beaten out onto the balcony because dust. And then since I was putting the gardening stuff away I figured I’d do a quick tidy of the dining table. And then I had to break down the boxes my stuff came in and take them out to the recycling, and took out the few other bits of recycling that had accumulated while I was at it, and also used that ‘being outside’ for a trip to the corner shop because I forgot to order cooking oil. And then I finally went to make myself a cup of coffee and needed to refill the sugar tin and had a bit of a spill so I had to wipe down the counter a bit, and then I noticed some other spots on the counter behind the stove top that needed a bit more attention. And since some of the sugar I spilled and wiped up ended up on the floor, I needed to break out the vacuum cleaner because we had a cockroach problem the other year and I don’t want to be the cause of a repeat of that mess...

I did stop myself before vacuuming the entire house. That’ll probably be tomorrow, on top of laundry. I swear, so much for relaxing weekends. Still, I know myself well enough to know that if I feel like cleaning, I should do so, because otherwise I can executive dysfunction myself right into a mess too large to fix easily.

Anyway, thing I noticed when I went out to the shops. You know how some of us get with stray animals, cooing endearments and offering affection and being upset and worried when they look injured or mistreated?

Well, apparently I’m like that with plants now. Any plants. All plants.

I pass a local cemetery when I go to the corner shop. It’s largely fenced off with wooden fencing along that particular road. Ivy grows across both sides of it, and the ivy shares the inside space with a truly prodigious amount of blackberry bramble. Like, the entire cemetery is ringed with blackberry bushes and every late summer / early autumn, I’ll go out there with a plastic bag and do some harvesting at least once, and I’ll be plucking a handful of berries to eat on my way to work or back home every work day. (I plan to make blackberry jam this year. Strawberry too, if my strawberries produce fruit the way I hope they will.)

Anyway, the ivy. I noted that it’s drying up fairly badly in sections, and gone all brown and crunchy. I never paid that much mind before and now I’m standing there going, “You poor thing! Don’t worry; it looks like it’s going to rain soon...” I notice the snapdragons that grow under somebody’s hedge and can’t help thinking that they’re probably really deprived of light down there and wonder if anyone would mind if I just ... brought a pot and gave it a good home. I am appalled that no one seems to be taking care of the potted begonias the management association puts by the front door to the block of flats and might go down there with plant food and a watering can at this rate.

As for the blackberry bushes? Mostly today it was, “Hello, bees!”

Look, clearly nurturing my plants has done me some good. This is the best I’m going to get, since I’m not really allowed pets in here. Though I imagine that things like maybe goldfish would be okay, and that might actually be an idea. My gardening has been keeping me sane and some fish would probably add to that. I mean, I’d prefer rats, but even with the recent push for them to be recognised as the great pets they are, people still look askance at them (which is stupid, since this is the country that started breeding pet fancy rats in the first fucking place, so why the hell they need to be reminded that rats are not plague factories is beyond me). Fish are easier. Also way less expensive, particularly since there isn’t a lot a vet can do with a sick neon tetra or whatever.

Summary: I can’t really have pets (I’m not going to give a pet a home unless I am absolutely sure that they and I can live to a decent standard, which includes food, sanitation, enrichment, and pet insurance since there’s no NHS for pets - though fish are an option and small rodents might be on the table), I’m not having kids (same reasons, partly with the addition of asexuality but fostering or adoption might be on the table if I was healthy enough physically and financially to ensure a child a good life), and I want something to nurture. If those things are green and leafy, that’s fine. They may not provide the usual compensations, but they’re pretty and they feed me. I will not be like the kid in The Giving Tree; my plants feed me, and I will give them everything they need to thrive in return. Sometimes that means more than water and plant food and sunshine. Sometimes that means apologies for overwatering or encouragement of the “don’t worry; you’ll feel better soon” variety when something is wilting due to overly cramped roots.

As for my reactions to plants I see outside? Well, fuck it; if I can give all the encouraging words in the world to my oregano when I’m repotting it, I can spare a few for the ivy around the cemetery or the snapdragons down the block. Words cost little, but mean a lot.

#Thess on gardening #Thess is a motherfucking adult

[imanalbertross]

This is a blog, and I need to emote. If you don't want to experience this, it's okay not to read it.

TW: animal attack, negative self-talk

In September of last year, my dog was attacked. He was just under a year old, and while he only had a very superficial wound from it, he has been irreparably scarred emotionally from this. This has resulted in my being so as well.

Pat has always been a bit anxious, but before the neighbor's dog attacked him, he was never aggressive, only concerned. He could easily be assuaged and would get over it fairly quickly.

This is no longer the case.

Since then, Pat has become very food aggressive. He'd always been slightly so, but it was always just a growl, and he could easily be deterred, like any puppy just learning. He is, after all, only around a year and three months now.

As his fear and anxiety grew, we did a lot of things to try to make the environment and our training work better for him, using gentle training methods and following advice on how to help him feel unthreatened in all situations.

He had been doing mostly okay, apart from the resource guarding, only a nip here and there, which we attributed to his PTSD and were understanding of. However, my fiancé and roommate had been firm about the idea of two bites that draw blood and we'd need to consider firm action. Neither of them felt comfortable with him staying if that happened.

It has. Twice, to me. Once I shouldn't have gone in to pick him up, as I knew he was having a panic attack, and I was foolish. That time was a mild scrape on my inner wrist. This time, last night to be exact, there was no warning. He was sniffing the trash can, but enjoying some pets, and the next moment, he had bitten my hand and was cowering next to my fiancé. This resulted in a slice to my finger, though shallow.

This means that for a while he'll probably be going to live with my mom and dad, who are elderly retirees. They live in the woods, surrounded by miles of Appalachian forests, at the dead end of a dead end road that was, until my late teens, unpaved.

They also have experience with traumatized dogs, currently owning 90 lb 11 y/o lab Jack, who never got over his puppy-hood abuse and is not very good around strangers. Pat is fairly comfortable with Jack, and while I know they'll have their tiffs until he's settled, it'll be good for them both, and Pat will be safe.

I am heartbroken. I feel like I've shattered into a thousand tiny little pieces and will never find them all, let alone put them back together. I haven't been able to stop crying since last night, and I honestly don't know how I'm not dehydrated/where the tears are coming from at this point.

I know that it's not my fault and that I haven't failed him. That doesn't stop me from feeling like I have. It doesn't change the fact that because someone else didn't make sure that their dog was safe, I am now losing mine.

I am losing my little boy, who is sweet and good and playful and cute, because of things outside of my control. Because he's scared. He never had this problem before. My mom thinks we have too many pets and that's the problem, and it may be, now that he has major PTSD, but it wasn't prior. He was just one of the cats. He even loafs, sits up high, and mirrors.

I... have some writing I can keep sharing, and probably intend to keep writing, as I think it and drawing may be the only things to keep me sane right now, but if I don't please understand that I'm not whole right now and I don't know if I ever will be again.

#personal post #dogs with ptsd #animal attack #mental health

[yostresswritinggirl]

Can I get a request where Xiao has a Adeptus! s/o and how the relationship would work? (Small little side note: I imagine it might be a bit of a slow burn too)

I was gonna pick an angst prompt but I had to hold back, considering he might not come with angst u_u Let's hope he and everyone enjoys this enough that he manifests for my next set of pulls ywy

Catch Your Breath

Xiao x Adeptus!S/O in Headcanon form (masterlist)

Background

You've long known Xiao ever since he ascended to be one of the strongest Yakshas, a part of Rex Lapis' unit that you tended to the most. Because you are still under the guidance of Skybracer, you are not meant to fight in the battlefront, but to assist your fellow adeptis and the mortals who needs you.

You and Xiao became close upon the defeat of the Lord of Vortex Osial and the unending manifestations of his rage, which came to haunt near your domain, making it easy for you to detect the demons and alert everyone of the dangers that were to rise.

Somehow out of them five, you felt more attached with the humanistic yet feral Xiao. While you mingled with them five in assurance that they were still sane and stable, he resonated with you more due to his form resembling your being better.

And his strength and restraint came into par when he saved you from Menogias' rampage, of which he himself had to stop together with Bosacius.

Your days after that were filled with nightmares over the loss of a great Yaksha and your near-death experience. You still continued your duties of observing the demonic activities but your held reservation and distance when interacting with the Yakshas, Xiao was especially aware of this.

Finally one day he worked up the courage to enter your domain and approach you, and after several coaxing you finally broke down with all your fears and restless nights poured onto him. And he was silently consoling.

After that Xiao started coming over every night before you were settling to rest, finding his presence always managing to chase away your nightmares, and it would be a thousand years later that you'd come to realize that he had been eating your bad dreams to make sure you rest well.

In time you both ended up becoming each other's pillar of support during the archon war and even after that timeline, you still find (and needed) the comfort each other brings.

The relationship only ever started when he found out about the implications through his observation of Verr and her husband, realizing that he too longs for a similar fate with you.

Thank goodness you felt the same way, even if it took thousands of years of hiding.

Skybracer and the Guardian Yaksha

After the death of Skybracer, you took on his role and domain to honor your mentor. You may not be as strong or suitable to make the same sacrifice as he, yet you held your own fairly well in protecting Liyue, enough that the humans from the distant Harbour knew and kneels to your presence.

This might be why Xiao despises the pilgrims that stubbornly seek out the adepti in their domains, because he knew of how pressuring and adamant they can be on their desperation. And the inability to grant them divine blessings gnaws at you at each rejection you had to offer.

He has a special connection to your Domain too in the sense that he is hyperaware of those that enter and leave your area. When he senses intrusive humans entering, he would be by your side immediately to confront them if they so wish to be stubborn under his presence. Most of the time you had to calm him down yourself, because not a lot of humans that dare look for you understood the connection between you two.

In all honesty, barely anyone knows the nature of your connection with Xiao besides those that are extremely to you two.

With the war long gone and Osial's dark manifestations temporarily ceased, both of your work were cut significantly. Your nightmares had stopped half a thousand years after the leave of the last Yaksha, but you know well that Xiao now had to fight with internal demons he himself cannot escape.

Whenever he was on the verge of breaking, he immediately comes to you and drops into your arms without a second thought, your energy and comforting touches enough to pull the binds away from his soul. And it is only there that Xiao would fall into a very rare slumber that you dare not disturb.

Unlike what many others would think, Xiao's love language comes in the form of physical touches. This could be because of your background together that had gone eons ago even before the great scarcity of Yakshas. He feels safer and more composed when your presence washes over him, and whenever you hold his hand, instead of stains of bloody wars it was washed away by your gentle grip.

He feels very clean and pure when with you, melting at every soft touch you offer and gravitating to your fleeting hand before he knew what he was doing. In your domain Xiao is the most vulnerable and honest. His guard is gone and his arms are uncrossed, it only intertwines when it surrounds itself around your form.

He spoke of the flute that saved him once, by the Anemo Archon. And upon this knowledge the two of you started divulging into the art of the wind instrument, finding that it does indeed have a grounding effect on him. Upon your urges, Xiao ended mastering the skill and honing it whenever he needs it. This doesn't mean his trips to you lessened, but his visitations would be accompanied by the tunes of his flute to grace you with the performance as a thank you for accommodating him.

Surprisingly (yet also not) between the two of you, Xiao has a better grasp on the standard of romances because of his exposure to the mortal realm, and he guides and experiments with the bases under your consent together. Soon enough his keen eyes had come into fruition upon your both masteries on passing up as a true couple in human standards.

To demonstrate this, you both had a date with your illuminated garments reduced to the simplest form of casual wear local to Liyue. Which you then used to stroll around the Harbour without being static on an area for too long. You met Madame Ping and Ganyu on the road, and they both wished you luck on your leisure after catching up.

While you are content with the way things are until your prolonged mortality finally lets you rest, Xiao had been thinking about traveling Teyvat to see the beauty of it alongside you. The Traveler had been very successful in influencing him lately, and soon enough he shall offer the question.

It is then that you are to decide on your next course of actions, which would ultimately advance your relationship.

Honestly almost went overboard again on this. I was honestly very tempted to sleep but I got scared Xiao might really just not come *cries* I'm about to whale at this point.,,

@kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #Xiao #Xiao x reader #exile.flower #exile.goblet #genshin impact headcanons #sojourner specials #gender neutral

[sulsulellison]

Fair Day

i’ve returned from a dark slumber and have romanticized my life just enough to turn it into fluff headcanon fanfics. it has been almost a year since i wrote any sort of headcanon/fanfic and as my return i’m going to write about some event that happened irl but make it more fluff/romantic headcanons and with dps characters. enjoy :D

charlie dalton x gn!reader

(modern au) going to a carnival with friends

word count: 1k

warning: swearing, sexual jokes (not about y/n tho)

pitts was the first one to bring up going to the nearby fair; however, charlie was the one who was able to convince and invite everyone

it seemed that all dead poets, s/o and close friends were invited to come

todd was the one to ask you to join them since you two quickly became friends during the classes you share

and todd was well aware of you crippling ‘unrequited’ crush on charlie but wasn’t going to tell you that

sneaky bitch

but honestly you weren’t the best at hiding it

the fair was being held in less than three days and you were ecstatic about being able to go this year, especially with the people you were going with

your excitement was quickly proven worth it when saturday came along and you were on your way over

you quickly found pitts and meeks in the crowded area by the ticket both

once you got over there you also found that charlie was also there but was in the line, three groups away from paying

as you were about to get to the end of the line and wait your turn, charlie called out to you, requesting that you got inline with him since it would be quicker

he also insisted that he be the one to pay for you, but with enough complaining and reasoning, his efforts were proven to be fruitless

once getting both of yours tickets and returning to pitts and meeks you meet up with the rest of the group, that being todd, neil, knox, chris, and one of pitts friends that was only going to be there for the next hour or two

since it was fairly big group, you all decided to split up for the first half of the day: nile and todd, know and chris, meeks, pitts, and his friend

that left you with charlie for the time being (tho who would complain about that)

charlie was yet to learn about you hesitance to get on big rides but it wasn’t like you were going to give him joke material

the first ride you both went on the the pharaoh boat one, and you just hoped and prayed charlie would go anywhere except the ends

and as any cliche fanfic goes, your prayers were far from answered

charlie basically ran to the end of the boat and waited for you before pulling the safety bar down

my god did you regret not just going to the middle cause damn, that safety bar should really not more even just the slightest, like really, who designed that feature

but the entire time charlie was having the time of his life, yelling jokingly to get a reaction out of you no the others on the ride

which did end up working, but only the slightest bit

the ride came to an end and charlie immediately pulled you over into the line for mobs dick

and he picked this ride strictly for two reasons, but all he’d tell you was that he liked it for the view

but as soon as the ride started, you learned what the their reason was

the jokes this guy made were out of pocket but still funny nonetheless

“i can feel it in my stomach”

“oohhh moby, slow down”

“faster, faster moby”

(may i remind you, moby is the whale, in case you forgot)

charlie was just bitching and moaning the whole time

but he had the most smug look ever as he did it and you both got off the ride laughing and continuing the jokes

charlie dragged you to three other rides before making you come wit him to view the carnival games

by now he was holding your hand and had you held rather close, but that could be because he didn’t want you to get lost in the crowded streets

you both were well aware of how rigged most, if not all, the games were but they were also cheap so it was worth a try

after finally winning one of the games, charlie picked out a paw patrol stuffie as his prize and handed it to you without a second to spare (and who doesn’t have a small love for paw patrol)

now, it as your turn to drag him around

now all educated people are aware of how fun the kid section can be, especially the mini snake themed roller coaster meant for six year olds

for some reason, it's one of the only rides without a height of age limit, so like any sane person you get in the relatively short line and talk with charlie as you wait

he mostly made fun of you for suggesting this ride but it's not like you had already been dragged to every other ride at the fair

it’s not the smoothest ride but it was hella worth going one

you managed to get the worst angled pictures of charlie, who was trying to act tough but somehow looked more concerned about falling out

and my god did he just barely fit in the seats, he looked like the grinch when he was driving the mini car after ruining the whoville christmas celebration

right next to that ride was a tent set up to be a ducky ring toss, you get to win no matter what tho, which meant that every time you played you got a toy and lets just say charlie really wanted to get the ring n the duck

you both ended up leaving with eight small prizes and one bigger prize

it was starting to get late and you had gotten a text in the group chat asking for everyone to meet up by the ride freak out, which ended up being the last ride of the night for the group before getting dinner and walking over to meeks house, which was rather close

everyone remained at meeks house till about 12 and watched movies and talked about the most random shit possible

and i’m not saying you and charlie hadn’t sat basically right on top of each other but i’m also not saying charlie sat anywhere else in the room that night

#dead poets society x reader #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps headcanons #dps hc #dps fanfiction #dead poets headcanons #charlie #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts #knox overstreet #niel perry #todd anderson #dps chris #chris #meeks #pitts #overstreet #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton headcanons #dead poets honor #dead poets live #dead poets society imagines #fan fiction #dark academia #dead poets society fluff #charlie dalton imagine #comfort

[hualianff]

Vampire/Human AU

(Slight NSFW, angst)

Thinking about vampire HC who owns a vampire-friendly bar with humans who apply as donors to supply fresh blood for vampires willing to pay the expensive prices. When a human with beautiful amber eyes, soft facial features, and blood that smells absolutely delectable, walks in, every vampire whips their heads towards the door. The human approaches one of the staff, YY, to inquire about becoming a donor. HC watches as the enticing morsel follows YY into a room to finalize his application.

Right after the human leaves thirty minutes later–YY probably having said it would take a few days to find him a match–HC pulls YY aside, demanding to have a look over the papers the new donor filled out. After a quick scan, HC shoves the papers back to YY with a click of his tongue,

“No need to find him a match. He’s mine.”

A human whose blood smells heavenly, who has never been bitten or even nipped by a vampire. HC wants to corrupt him. Ruin him.

The next night, HC has the human, XL, meet him in his personal feeding room. There’s a luxurious velvet couch to the side, a pristine glass table with fancy wine and glasses, and a king-sized bed with crimson silk laid upon the mattress.

HC, like most vampires, typically feeds while stimulating their donors. This can be done with something as simple as kissing or full-on intercourse. Not only does this relax the human’s nerves so they won’t tense up before being bitten, but the toxins injected into their system after being bitten feels incredibly euphoric, serving as a kind of aphrodisiac. Many humans donate their blood in this way for the sole reason of attaining this heightened sense of pleasure.

But as soon as XL enters the room in front of HC, his mind freezes as he sees the bed.

“I’m a virgin,” he blurts out, wide eyes panicked as he looks at the vampire. HC raises his eyebrow, unperturbed.

“We can work with that.”

XL gulps.

“I’ve also never kissed anyone.”

HC runs a tongue along his sharp fangs.

“Do you want to change that?” The vampire asks, walking up behind the human, pressing his chest against XL’s back. HC hears XL’s heart rate pick up at the proposition. It’s an unspoken yes, though XL also imperceptibly nods his head. He does not see HC’s lips spread into a vicious grin. However, XL does feel lips brush against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Use your words, precious. Do you want to be kissed? Want to be touched, experience pleasure beyond comprehension?” HC murmurs, skimming his lips across XL’s nape. “I can fuck you too. Push into your little body as I sink my fangs into your neck. I’d place them right here-“ HC taps XL’s jugular, the human jerking to the side with a gasp. “-oh? So sensitive. All the better. I can make you feel so good.”

XL’s breath quickens, ever so slightly leaning back into HC’s tall frame. HC leans forward to catch a glimpse of those doe eyes regarding him with caution. Oh, how he wants to eat this human alive. HC turns XL around by his shoulders. He lowers his head to bump foreheads with XL, forcing the human to look into his red-tinged eyes.

“Is that a yes?”

XL blinks those doe eyes once, then twice.

“Yes.”

HC brings his hand up to brush a hair away from the human’s head.

“Wonderful.”

***

XL is at the point in his life when he lost everything. He chose to pursue a career outside of his parents’ embroidery business despite being expected to take over the shop after college. Abandoning college altogether, XL went off on his own to chase his dream to become a singer.

A few years later, where XL was provinces away from home, XL’s parents’ business had gone under, devastating them as they could no longer pay for their medical bills. Upon hearing the news, XL rushed back home to take care of them. It seemed they had kept their declining health conditions under wraps. They were too prideful to admit their weakening physical states; they also did not want to guilt XL into giving up on his ambitions to take care of them.

XL’s parents lasted one year before passing away, his father first due to prostate cancer, his mother one month later after succumbing to exhaustion and grief. XL lost their home along with the shop merely a week later, unable to pay off the debt. His parents had used up their savings for their medical expenses and XL had been scraping by as a musician for years. Additionally, there was no one he could confide in. He had lost contact with his friends as he moved from city to city, busking on streets, attempting to catch the attention of music labels.

XL was utterly alone. There were days when not even music could bring an ounce of comfort. However, music was the thing that kept him sane between the various side jobs he managed to pick up to keep him off the streets.

As if the fates decided XL had had enough bad luck for a lifetime, a CEO of a fairly well-known label offered him a business card after a busking session. It was JW of Capital Records who gave XL hope of achieving his dream. XL spent most of his late 20s under the label, training and practicing and producing. He had the chance to record a couple of singles and one mini-album–which he didn’t get to participate much in the production side–but other than that, XL didn’t make it far. He was tremendously overworked and yet, still discarded to the side.

Wondering why he wasn’t provided the opportunities other artists received to further their careers, XL scheduled a one-on-one meeting with the CEO to ask what he was lacking. JW had insisted he could give XL more opportunities if XL could offer something more than just his serene vocals and pretty face.

The unspoken suggestion that XL offer up his body pierced his heart with yet another stake. Overwhelming disappointment and betrayal crashed into XL, but perhaps he should have known better that the whole situation was too good to be true. XL vehemently rejected this idea, angering JW who eventually tore XL down to the point of a medical emergency that allowed him to leave the agency without repercussions.

At age thirty-two, XL was left with no family, mental and physical trauma, and a dying will. Ironically enough, the song lyrics he’d written after experiencing so much loss were the closest thing to making music he’d gotten. But in the end, XL still felt like a failure.

Now in Xi’an, XL was left with limited options to earn money for rent. He already worked two part-time jobs in addition to writing music—though even time set aside for this has dwindled.

One night, as XL was walking home after closing up the convenience store, he saw the neon lights of the sign “Ghost City.” He’s heard many things about this club and is no stranger to the existence of nonhuman creatures roaming amongst human society. After hours of research, XL decided to apply to become a blood donor. It’s not like he had a better option that paid more anyway.

XL’s hope to somehow redeem his past actions has all but fizzled out. He doesn’t expect a vampire like HC to care about his comfort or consent when feeding, though HC still prioritizes these things for some reason.

XL has never looked at his body and thought about the best ways to pleasure himself. HC shows him how. HC caresses and kisses XL like he’s worth being handled with care; HC also invades XL’s body as a threat to break it, broadcasting a vampire’s strength, speed, and endurance in the bedroom.

XL can go as far as to say he even looks forward to his time with HC. In between a busy work life and dealing with people who would rather look the other way than give him the time of day, XL’s mind and body steadily weaken.

It starts with memory loss, where XL can’t clearly remember the conversations he’d had the day before. One of the reasons this develops is because he goes through many days without having anyone to tell about his day. It’s like the life XL lives is so insignificant, nothing about it is worth remembering.

Then, it’s the lack of eating. Most of XL’s money goes towards rent, essentials, and groceries. But he’s not a great cook. And he’s already drained by the time he gets home after working both jobs and visiting Ghost City. XL’s stress doesn’t help, adding to the fatigue that gradually shuts his body down.

While HC might not be able to taste a difference in XL’s blood, he does notice how frail the human moves around. How delayed XL responds, more so than he should be–even as a human. XL has scheduled more visits: three times a week this time. However, his words become less. He stops telling the little stories that brought a small smile to his face. XL doesn’t even mention the songs he’s been working on lately.

HC forces himself to ask about them after an especially rough coupling.

“How’s the songwriting going, darling?” HC asks quietly. He props his elbow upon his pillow, resting his cheek on his hand as he intently observes the human struggling to catch his breath, eyelids fluttering.

“I haven’t written anything new,” XL breathily answers. HC purses his lips. He ducks down to affectionately tongue at the skin his fangs pierced.

“No? In how long?” HC asks. XL sighs heavily.

“Maybe three weeks.”

HC doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not one to console anybody. No one had afforded him that luxury, and naturally, he did not grant anyone else his concern. The silence that follows is unbearable.

***

The next time XL visits, he’s the one to initiate their first kiss. HC growls happily against his human’s lips, pinning him against the closed door of his private room. XL moans obscenely as HC languidly licks into his mouth. His arms desperately wrap around HC’s neck to bring him closer.

“Someone’s eager,” HC says with a chuckle as he pulls back. XL instantly attaches his lips to the vampire’s jaw, peppering light kisses along the pale skin. HC can’t help but think he’s taught his little human well. XL hums while trailing his lips back to HC’s, capturing them in a kiss that’s the sweetest one yet.

HC should’ve noticed how unstable XL’s legs seemed, how dreadful the bags under his eyes looked before indulging in their bedroom activities. He should’ve kept track all along of how thin XL is, how much more skin and bone he had become. HC is certainly not one to intrude on someone else’s life and scrutinize all their choices. But he should’ve said something sooner.

Maybe then, XL’s heart wouldn’t have stuttered so violently, or completely stopped beating for five counts.

HC watches in horror as XL’s eyes roll into the back of his head. His human’s body goes limp in his arms, collapsing into HC’s chest. When XL’s heart beat starts up again, it’s very weak. There’s a noticeable abnormality in its rhythm.

HC quickly gathers XL in his arms and speeds to the bed. He sits back against the pillow, placing XL to recline against his front. HC hooks his arms around XL’s middle from behind, anxiously listening to XL’s irregular heartbeat that seems like it takes all of his human’s energy to pump. Luckily, XL awakens a few minutes later. He registers a cold embrace and warm puffs of breath lingering near his ear.

“Did I pass out?” XL wheezes out, unconsciously melting into the body behind him.

“Yes,” HC says tightly. “Your heartbeat is uneven. Something is wrong.”

XL can’t tell if he’s imagining it but that sounded like worry in the vampire’s tone.

“Oh.”

HC inhales sharply.

“You just fainted, Xie Lian. Hell, your heart just stopped for a few seconds, and all you have to say is ‘oh?’” HC grinds out.

So he is upset. XL swallows thickly, not wanting to escalate things and further upset the vampire.

“It’s okay,” XL says. “I’m okay-“

“No. You’re not,” HC interrupts.

XL takes a deep breath, wincing slightly as HC tightens his arms around his hips. He’s more sensitive than normal, XL realizes. Before XL can defend himself further, HC grasps XL’s chin and turns his head to face the vampire.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he states. He hears XL’s heart speed up. “There’s no use in lying. I can tell you’ve grown weaker since you first came.”

“Well, I have been donating my blood to a certain vampire for a few months now. I’m bound to be a bit weak in my legs,” XL replies as a matter of factly. He means to poke fun at the situation rather than acknowledge the severity of it. HC knows this because he’s done it numerous times himself. But when XL does it, it makes HC’s blood boil.

“Are you saying I am causing this- this deterioration in your health?” HC asks tensely. XL lets out a gasp, whirling around in HC’s arms, immediately backpedaling.

“No! No, not at all.”

HC’s eyes assess his human who trembles slightly in his arms. He cradles XL in between his legs, hands shifting XL further up his body so he can rest his head on HC’s chest. HC gently pets XL’s hair, an action that was uncharacteristic of him months ago, before XL had walked through the entrance of his bar.

XL gently smiles in an attempt to placate the vampire.

HC’s eyes flash a frightening scarlet.

“I don’t believe you.”

XL’s face crumples.

“It’s true! I’ve just been really busy is all. Work has been hectic and- and-“ gone is the innocence that HC once saw in XL’s doe eyes, instead replaced by stress and utter brokenness that alarms the vampire to no end. A voice in the back of HC’s head snarls that those emotions had always been behind XL’s eyes; they were simply better hidden, and HC had been too lust-driven to notice.

XL continues his rambling, frantically shaking his head. “-I took some extra shifts because I needed the money to pay for some water damage that flooded half my apartment. I’m fine—truly.“

If HC had a beating heart, it would have dropped down to his stomach at the sudden realization. His fingers dig into the paper-thin skin of XL’s hips, then trace up the bony knobs of his spine.

“You’re not eating right.”

“Wait- S-san Lang-“

The nickname HC had asked XL to call him is hurdled back into his face like a stone aimed to shatter. It sounds like a cry for help.

“And you’re not getting enough sleep,” HC concludes with a disapproving frown. His eyes now glow a deep crimson, matching the silken sheets that HC ensures are in perfect condition every time XL visits.

“Fuck, XIE LIAN, you know you need proper nutrition and rest to recover from each night you spend with me!” HC is nearly shouting now, voice wavering out of his control. Who knew another creature could make him feel so strongly?

“I-I am!”

“I SAID NOT TO LIE TO ME. I CAN TELL WHEN YOU’RE NOT BEING HONEST,” HC explodes, spatting those words with a poison that he often uses with uncooperative subordinates, but never directed at XL before.

Tears glisten in XL’s eyes as he’s cornered with no way out, no relief from the building pressure that suffocates him. Right now, after everything XL has been through, this seems to be his tipping point. He never expected HC to care this much. Or perhaps HC is just concerned his reliable supply of blood is flaking out on him, just when he’s had a feasible taste.

XL is sure HC has plenty of other donors to feed on. It’s not like XL is particularly special in that way. Frankly speaking, XL had time and time again asked the universe to give him one last sign that his life mattered in some capacity. But if he couldn’t see the value in his own life, who else could?

XL scrambles off from HC’s lap, allowing himself to speak with the deep-seated spite that has grown in his heart like an untamable weed.

“THERE’S NO NEED TO GET SO WORKED UP OVER MY HEALTH!! I’LL BE GONE SOON ANYWAY! THE DOCTOR GAVE ME THREE MORE MONTHS,” XL screams, having to catch his breath after exerting so much power into his voice. “So there. You have my answer. I’m not lying this time. Just one a couple more months and then- then you won’t have to deal with my shit anymore, okay?”

HC can’t move. He can’t speak either. The shock taking over his system renders his mind and body completely useless. He can only stare blankly at XL whose tears now cascade down his cheeks.  

No, this cannot be happening-

XL’s whimpers pull HC out of his head. The human hugs his own frail body, shivering from a coldness that does not exist in the room.

How did HC let it get so bad?

“I’m sick, San Lang. Very, very sick. Not just physically,” XL whispers defeatedly, letting out a small hiccup.

HC doesn’t hesitate to surge forward to throw his arms around XL, hugging him once more. It’s a habit now—to hold XL whenever he could. Now, HC wonders how many more times he would get this chance before it was inevitably the last.

“Xie Lian…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I-I just can’t eat. Sometimes from stress, other times I completely forget. And I want to rest, but I end up laying in bed awake for hours a-and my mind just won’t let me sleep-”

For the first time in over a decade, there is someone else to hear XL’s agonized wails.

“Please believe me, San Lang. Please."

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #hualian au #cerdrabbles #xie lian #hua cheng #human xie lian #vampire hua cheng #sorry it's rushed

[orangeoctopi7]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Suspicious Crash of Stanley Pines

The theme for @stanuary week 3 is Crime... what about... TRUE CRIME? I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved this last summer, so I’ve been wanting to do something like this.

If you don’t watch Buzzfeed Unsolved, this is probably gonna seem like a lot of rambling.

On the morning of July Fourth, 1982 in the sleepy logging town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, there was a firey explosion that wasn't part of the fireworks and festivities. A car had gone over the edge of the town's famed floating cliffs.

"Floating cliffs?" Shane asked

"They're like, giant overhangs. They're not just floating up in the middle of the air like Pandora or something." Ryan explained, showing Shane a photo on his phone.

"Oh, that's pretty."

"It is really pretty."

"What a beautiful place for a car to careen over a cliff."

Ryan cracked up.

"You get a lovely view as you plummet to your death." Shane imagined.

Between 6:15 and 6:20 PM, the Gravity Falls Police Department received six separate calls reporting seeing a yellow car in flames drive off the edge of the cliff and crash to the valley below.

When investigators arrived on the scene, they found the remains of a crushed and burnt 1971 Subaru DL Coupe. The police report notes finding that the brakes were cut, and evidence of gasoline being poured into the driver’s seat to start the fire. Strangest of all, no body was found in or around the crash, only a few burnt strands of hair.

“So, right off the bat, real suspicious.” Shane commented.

“Yeah, and it only gets more suspicious from here.” Ryan assured his co-host.

“And I’m assuming there’s no chance that they guy, y’know, got up and walked away from the crash?” 

“Oh, no, no way. You saw the picture of the cliffs.”

“Oh yeah, no way.”

“There’s no way anyone in the car would have survived that fall.”

“And it was on fire.”

“And it was on fire.”

Despite the lack of a body, the police determined from the few burnt strands of hair and an anonymous tip they received at 6:15 PM on the day of the crash, the driver of the car was one Stanley Pines, a 31 year old man from Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Allegedly, he had been coming to Gravity Falls, Oregon to visit his twin brother, Stanford, who lived just a ten minute drive from the cliff Stan’s car had driven off.

“Wait, wait, wait--” Shane interrupted Ryan’s explanation, “Twin brothers. Named Stanley and Stanford.”

“Yeah.”

“Who the f___ names their kids like that?”

“I know, right?”

“Were they identical twins?”

“Uh, I couldn’t find anything saying they were definitely genetically identical, but, uh, with the way this case goes, it’s safe to assume they were identical enough.”

“Yikes, I feel sorry for them growing up, can you imagine how often people got them mixed up?”

“Yeah, but imagine the kinds of shenanigans they must have gotten up to!”

“Oh, that’s true. There would have been plenty of shenanigans. Lots and lots of shenanigans.”

“If you had twins, would you give them cutesy twin names?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Shane answered firmly.

“I think I’d just do like, alliterative names. Nothing too similar.” 

“Yeah, no I think twins probably have to deal with enough confusion bull___ without having to throw similar names or the same initials into the mix.”

“Interestingly enough…” Ryan started.

“Yeah, I’m guessing from your comments that the twin thing plays into this.”

When interviewed by the police, Stanford claimed his brother never arrived at his house. However, testimonies of other townsfolk reported seeing a red 1967 El Diablo with a distinctive “STNLYMBL” vanity license plate driving up the road to Stanford’s house earlier that winter. The house is out in the woods, isolated from the rest of the town, so no one would drive up that way unless they were going to see the cabin.

“Well what if they just wanted to take a walk out in the woods?” Shane countered.

“It was in early February.” 

“Snowshoeing.”

“In a blizzard.”

“Ok, you do not have a weather report for the exact day they saw this car!”

“Two of the testimonies mention there was a snow storm that day. Plus, the license plate says STANLEY MOBILE.”

“Well, Stanley is a fairly common name.”

“You-you’re just being contrary to bug me now, aren’t you?” Ryan accused.

Shane just grinned.

What’s more, that same red El Diablo was the car Stanford now drove. 

“What!?” Shane laughed with disbelief for a moment before putting on a mocking tone. “Uh, yeah, he never showed up, but, uh, I have his car. I’m still driving it. Y’know, seemed like a waste to just let it sit in the driveway.”

“He didn’t even change the license plate.” Ryan added.

“Oh, of course not!” Shane said sarcastically. “Why go through all that trouble?”

Upon further inspection, the car that crashed was registered to Stanford, and had been reported totaled almost seven years prior.

“It’s interesting that they say it was totaled.” Ryan commented. “Because totalled just means that the damage is more expensive to fix than the car is worth, so it could have still been drivable.”

“And if you’re trying to fake a car crash, what better to use than an already worthless car?” Shane agreed. 

“Exactly.”

Stanley Pines was declared dead by auto accident and the case was closed in September of 1982, due to lack of evidence and quote: “A lack of interest from the involved parties”.

“A lack of interest from the involved parties!? What the h___ does that even mean?” Shane asked in bewilderment.

“It’s odd, to be sure.”

It’s when we look into the background of the presumed dead Stanley, and his brother Stanford, that this case becomes truly bizarre. 

Stanley Pines left home at the age of 17, and had brief but unsuccessful careers as an amature prize fighter and as a salesman, before he turned to a life of crime. Prior to his reported death, he had been in prison five times, in three different countries, and had lived under at least eight different assumed names, with several others that were never confirmed. He had known ties to the mob and drug cartels.

“Quite the shady character. That might explain why the police didn’t look too closely into his ‘death’.” Shane put air quotes around “death”.

“Well, does it? I mean, if they thought his death might have been related to the mob…” Ryan argued.

“They know better than to mess with the mob, even in Oregon.”

“I mean, we have seen in several past True Crime episodes, what can happen if you mess with the mob.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You don’t wanna do it.”

“Nope.”

His brother Stanford was no less strange. He was born with fully-functional polydactyly, meaning he had six fingers on each hand. It’s worth noting that after 1982, Stanford no longer had 6 fingers. He claims that he had them surgically removed, because, quote: “I was sick of people staring.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Shane said doubtfully.

“You don’t believe that explanation?”

“Let’s just say I find it highly suspect.”

Stanford was also a certified genius, graduating with the most PhDs Backupsmore University had ever awarded. As a graduate student, he worked as a researcher and inventor for the US Government. Some sources say he worked on top-secret experiments. 

In 1975, he received a $100,000 research grant, which he used to move to Gravity Falls and become a Paranormal Researcher. When he arrived in Gravity Falls, he was the subject of many rumors throughout the town, due to his reclusive nature and strange area of study. 

“Oh, so this guy was basically you.” Shane pointed out.

“He’s basically me if I didn’t have you.” Ryan agreed.

“Awww, that’s sweet!” Shane placed a hand over his heart.

Many residents reported seeing strange lights coming from Stanford’s home in the woods starting almost as soon as he moved in, as well as strange sounds.

“Well, it seems like Gravity Falls is a pretty small town. People gossip.” Shane reasoned.

“Ok, yeah, but people gossip about who’s cheating on who, or what business secretly sells drugs out the back. They don’t gossip about strange lights coming out of the new neighbor’s basement.”

“They could. It’s gossip. Gossip can be about anything.”

Reports of the lights stopped in late January of 1982. Just four months later, in March, Stanford began opening up his home for tours, and in a matter of weeks, transformed his home into a tourist stop called the “Murder Hut.”

“Oh my g__.” Shane stifled a laugh. “A little on the nose there, don’t you think?”

“He did rename it to the Mystery Shack about a year later.”

“Hmm, yeah I wonder why?” Shane asked facetiously. 

Stanford also exhibited paranoid behavior on several occasions before the crash, especially in the early months of 1982.

One local reported seeing Stanford screaming “No it isn’t, you creeps! I can see you just fine!” down an alleyway. Several other eyewitnesses reported seeing him fall out of his seat at the Triple Digits Truck Stop Diner on Route 14 and scream for something to “get out of his mind” before fleeing the building.

“So, he definitely seemed to think something was out to get him.” Ryan commented.

“Not the words of a sane man.”

“Unless something really was out to get him.”

“Eeeeh, even then…” Shane wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. 

Dan Corduroy, one of the few people who had regular contact with Stanford before he opened the Mystery Shack, had this to say about the sudden change from research lab to tourist trap:

“Oh, he’s definitely been acting differently. He was really shy before, hard to talk to even. He seemed uncomfortable spending a lot of time with people. I’d invite him over to one of my family’s cabins to visit, but he only ever wanted to visit the haunted one while we were all out of town. I’d say it was a good change, though. It wasn’t good for him to be alone all the time like that. I’m glad he’s finally spending time with other people.”

“He only wanted to visit our haunted cabin.” Shane repeated with disbelief. “Hey, do you wanna come over to visit one of our cabins?” He put on a voice. “Uh, that depends, what kind of cabins have you got?’ ‘Well there’s one by the lake, one with a nice view of the valley, and one that’s haunted.’ ‘Oh, I’ll take the haunted one!”

“What gets me is he only wanted to visit the haunted cabin while everyone else was out of town. We’ve stayed in our fair share of haunted places, and it was bad enough staying overnight, just me and you, but there is nothing that could convince me to spend the night in one of those places all by myself.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure none of the places we’ve been to have actually been haunted, but I see what you mean. It’s not fun to go to a haunted house by yourself. It’s kinda boring.”

“Um, we’re not gonna get into this discussion now, because we still haven’t even gotten to the theories yet, but you’re wrong.”

The case came to light again in August of 2012, when Federal agents arrested Stanford Pines, and detained him for several hours for questioning. By the next day, he had been released, and officials stated that his arrest had been due to a false lead. What exactly that false lead was, however, was never stated.

Now that we’ve gone over the extensive background of this case, let’s get into the theories of what really happened that 4th of July in 1982.

Theory #1: The theory put forth by the police, that Stanley Pines died in a fiery car accident.

“So then how do they explain what happened to the body?” Shane asked.

“It doesn’t say.” Ryan.

“And why were the breaks cut?”

“No explanation given.”

“That’s a stupid theory, those cops ought to be fired.”

Ryan stifled a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

Theory #2: That Stanley killed his brother, made it look like his own death, and took over his brother’s life. This would explain the loss of his extra fingers, the sudden change in behavior that led him to open up the Mystery Shack, and his sudden acquisition of Stanley’s car. It does not, however, explain the lack of a body in the crash.

“He could have disposed of his brother’s body somewhere else, and then just like, left an ice block on the gas pedal and let the car run itself off the cliff.” Shane theorized.

“That’s possible. I was also thinking, maybe the body was gone. Maybe Stanley didn’t necessarily kill Stanford, maybe they met up in the woods, Stanford got eaten by a bear, and Stanley, who was already in trouble with the mob, took advantage of the situation, and faked his own death.”

“How--why did you work your fear of bears into this?” 

“That’s just my variation on this theory.”

“Then why all the secrecy? Why not say that he was the one who got eaten by the bear? Why fake the car crash and then say his brother never showed up?”

“Because if the mob knew he’d talked to his brother before he died, maybe they’d come question him?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a possibility.”

Theory #3: That Stanford killed Stanley and made it look like an accident. People who support this theory say the psychological trauma and guilt of killing his own brother may have driven Stanford to change his appearance and behavior to more closely resemble that of his dead brother.

“That’s… kind of a stretch.” Shane said slowly. “I feel like, Occam's Razor, theory 2 is more plausible.”

“What makes you say that one’s more plausible?”

“I dunno, just saying ‘He killed his brother and took his place’ seems a lot more likely than ‘The other brother killed him and the guilt drove him to act like his brother. I don’t think that’s how psychology works.”

Theory #4: Both brothers are still alive. Stanley, on the run from the mob, came to his brother Stanford for help. Meanwhile, Stanford was worried about someone or something that was out to get him. They came to a solution that would solve both their problems: switching places. They would fake Stanley’s death, throwing the mob off of Stanley’s trail. Then, Stanley would take Stanford’s place in the public eye, while Stanford went into hiding.

This theory is supported by photos that surfaced on Facebook in 2012. Several photos of Gravity Falls after a series of earthquakes did extensive damage to the town show what is supposed to be Stanford. However, another man that looks just like him is seen standing in the background. Interestingly enough, both mens’ hands are obscured in all of these photos. 

While the photos haven’t been analysed by any professionals to definitively determine if either of the men are Stanley Pines, it has been determined that the photos are not edited.

“Would the whole photo recognition software even work on identical twins?” Ryan wondered.

“I don’t think so?” Shane answered unsurely. “I mean, my Facebook facial recognition auto-tag doesn’t even recognize my mom half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if twins throw it off.”

“Just looking at some of these photos yourself, what do you think?” Ryan handed a few print-outs from his folder to Shane.

“Oh wow, yeah, they do look alike.” Shane nodded. “Alright, yeah, I’m convinced. We solved it, guys! Video over!”

“We actually do have one more theory.” Ryan informed him.

Theory #5: Stanford was abducted by aliens.

“Oh for f___’s sake--” Shane threw his hands up in frustration. “We have four perfectly good, plausible explanations, and you have to throw that in!”

“This one actually does have some evidence behind it.”

“Bull____, but go on.”

Stanford was a professional paranormal researcher. Although he was very secretive about his research, even to his grant committee, some of his research notes do list looking for proof of ancient aliens visiting the valley before European contact. Could it be the thing he was afraid of was aliens?

“... That’s it?” Shane asked. “When you said this one actually had some evidence behind it, I thought you meant there was a UFO sighting in the same area around the same time.”

“The negative space between the floating cliffs kinda looks like a UFO” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean a random researcher in the 80’s was abducted by aliens! That’s like, if I found a ransom note for you in the office, but I said ‘Well, Ryan was afraid of bears. Bears used to live in California, there’s one on the state flag outside our building. He must have been eaten by a bear.’ That’s the kind of leap in logic we’re talking about!”

Was this a case of fratricide? Or is this the longest and most elaborate twin switch of all time? For now, this case remains… UNSOLVED.

 * * *

“It was really hard for me to stay on topic while I was researching this one.” Ryan admitted as they wrapped things up. “There is a lot of weird stuff related to Gravity Falls, we should go there for an episode one of these days.”

“I’d love to do that, it looks like a beautiful place to visit.” Shane agreed. “Are you sure you wanna do that though? It seems like the place is crawling with haunted cabins and bears.”

“Well, one could argue this entire series is about me conquering my fears, so… Why not?”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Buzzfeed Unsolved #Stanuary 2021 #Stanley pines #My Writing

[dragonsareourfuture]

Death Note/GN!Reader — Pick Up Lines

A quick little scenario in which your Death Note sweetheart uses a terrible pick up line on you! I feel as though these all kinda suck since I write this a while ago but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Mello

Staying up late every night and watching security footage was not fairing well for Mello. Dark circles started to form underneath his eyes, and you pointed out that he was turning into L, all he needed was black hair and a haircut. He simply responded “The day I cut my hair short is the day the world ends.”

Usually when Mello got tired he would turn into a grumpy, adorable gremlin but, mixed with the excessive amount of chocolate he consumed due to boredom, he had turned loopy. Matt had relied on his headphones to keep him sane, whereas you were left with no escape from the babbling blond.

Mello rambled on and on about how he was going to beat Near with every fiber of his being, slowly getting sidetracked into a conversation about sheep.

“They’re so fucking fluffy. Standing around, eating grass, taunting me.” The blond mumbled, his head resting on your lap as you stroked his hair, listening with genuine interest.

“Mhmm, how do they taunt you?” you inquired, wanting to know more before your boyfriend fell asleep and you never got to find out why he felt so threatened by white, fluffy animals.

“They just...do  .”

“Well, I’ll always keep you safe from the mean, mean sheep.”

Mello shifted so that he was gazing up at you. He lifted his hand to your face and gently smacked your cheek with his palm, rubbing his tired eyes with the other hand.

“Aw, babe you’re so sweet when you talk like that... You make me melt like chocolate in the summer~ ”

“I do what?”

Before Mello could answer, unconsciousness grasped him and pulled him down into the dimension of sleep. You sighed, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to hear more, yet also relieved that Mello could finally get the sleep that he needed.

“G’night, Mels,” You whispered, brushing his bangs to the side and kissing his forehead, “You make me melt, too.”

Matt

Matt’s been acting strangely clingy all day. As soon as you noticed this fact, you immediately figured that it was an anniversary or either one of your birthdays and it had slipped your mind. However, upon further inspection of your phone calendar, today appeared to be nothing special.

You were seated on the couch, watching a bit of television while Matt washed the dishes. You had insisted that you could handle that task yourself, but the goggle-wearing sweetheart had insisted that you relax.

Suddenly you heard the sink turn off and footsteps lead up to the couch. You turned around to see the redhead wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

“Hey, I lost my phone number...can I have yours? ” He asked with a sly smile.

“Matt, you have my number. Is that a pickup line? You know we’re already dating, right? Is my number not working?” You interrogated, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and calling your cell from it to ensure that your phone number still worked.

“No- it’s... you’re supposed to go along with it!”

“Well, come up with a better one next time, dumb ass,” You tossed Matt’s phone back at him, the device landing in his lap. He pouted and shoved it into his jacket pocket, getting up to return to the kitchen.

“You’re no fun.”

L

The room grew dim and increasingly empty as the hours ran further into the day, eventually turning to night. Despite the signs that you should be on your way home, you stayed with the only detective who thought it appropriate to work into the ungodly hours of the night.

You glanced over at L, back turned to you with his nose practically pressed against the computer screen. You rolled your eyes and switched on the main light of the room, saying, “You’re gonna ruin your eyes reading in the dark like that.”

L did not respond but, at the looks of it, kept on reading the minuscule words on his screen with intent.

“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe some cake?” You asked, giggling at the end of your words for no other reason than the tiredness getting to your brain.

“No, thank you.  I already have you, and you’re sweeter than cake, anyway,” L droned matter of factly, not even tearing his eyes away from the luminescent screen.

“Awww! Oh my god, L!” You squealed, running up to L and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Ah...(name), I c-can’t breathe...”

Near

You could practically hear the blood flow to your brain as you spun around in a desk chair at painful hours of the night. The screens that filled the SPK headquarters shone in your eyes, keeping you awake along with the unhealthy amounts of caffeine you had consumed.

Your white haired boyfriend sat crouched on the floor by your feet. The clicking of building blocks rang throughout the otherwise empty room as he stacked them on top of one another, paying no mind to anything else.

You sighed, placing your chin on the palm of your hand and deflating on the spot. No amount of caffeine could keep you here as late as Near always stayed, no matter how much you wanted it to. You hated that he was here alone all the time and, even though he always tried to convince you that he didn’t care, you knew it took a toll on his mental state.

You shifted in your chair, about to heave your body up when Near’s monotonous voice kept you still.

“(Name).”

You waited for him to continue, and spoke up when he stayed silent, “What’s up, babe?”

“Do you like LEGO ?” Near inquired. His eyes finally met yours as he twirled a LEGO piece in between his fingers.

“Uh, I guess—“

“Because I want to build a world with you... ”

You froze, wondering if the caffeine was getting to your head or if Near had actually used a pickup line on you — and a goddamn adorable one at that.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. You slid off the office chair and dropped to your knees on the cold tile beside Near, throwing your arms around the boy without another word.

Though he stiffened at first, Near melted under your embrace. He buried his face into your shoulder and wrapped his noodle arms around your torso. You stayed like this for either a minute, or an hour. It was so quiet that you could hear your hearts beating in sync. Everything was so perfect, so loving, so-

“ARE YOU GUYS STILL HERE!?”

Your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sound of a door banging against metal and the rough tone of Rester calling out to you.

Near grumbled and shoved his face into your neck, trying and failing to escape the booming echo of footsteps that approached your little heap on the floor.

“Yeah,” your voice came out ragged and small, but enough for Rester to hear and follow, “right here.”

“You both look exhausted! Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

When Near barely moved a muscle, you took it upon yourself to pick up his limp body from the floor bridal style and carry him to bed. Though you almost dropped the poor boy more than once, you’d say you did a fairly good job. And, once you were both snuggled up in bed, you got a good nights rest of a solid three hours of sleep. It was the most Near’s gotten in weeks, so you were not complaining.

Light

Though you were already in a relationship with Light, the cheesy lines and swooning from him never ceased. You wouldn’t have to fend him off with a stick but he loved to be all over you even when he already won you over, and you loved that about him.

This was mainly exhibited when you two were alone together, him finding public displays of affection to be childish and overall unnecessary as everyone you hung around with at school respected your relationship quite nicely.

The two of you were strolling on the sidewalk after a headache inducing day of school. His arm was resting lazily over your neck as you walked while all attention was focused on you and you alone. You ranted about the difficulties of the day and, although they were mostly all minor inconveniences, they really got under your skin once all added up.

When you had finished, you huffed and rubbed at your temple.

Breaking the silence that followed, Light blurted,  “How would you like to be the goddess of the new world?  You wouldn’t have to deal with that crap anymore.”

You laughed, reaching up to lace your fingers with the hand that dangled by your shoulder. “Dude, I barely know what taxes are. I don’t think I can handle being a goddess.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Light pouted jokingly.

The two of you came to a stop in front of his house, him pulling you flush against him and just staring wistfully (up/down) at you. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Sayu will be delighted to see you.”

“Oh, I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude—“

“Nonsense. Come on.”

And so, Light guided you into his home, his mother and Sayu cheerfully greeting you at the door and whisking you away into a night of wonderful conversation and a lovely dinner.

Matsuda

You took advantage of the daylight, working nonstop so that you wouldn’t have to stay after hours to get your unfinished work done.

Through your tireless efforts, you failed to notice a pair of familiar eyes glancing back at you every so often. You only noticed a change in your boyfriend’s behavior when he came rolling up to your desk in his wheely chair, resting his chin on his elbows and looking at you expectantly.

“Hey, what’s up, Teddy Bear?” You greeted, barely tearing your eyes from the papers splayed out all across your desk.

Matsuda grinned from ear to ear every time he heard that nickname. It made him feel wanted and loved whenever he was around you. Sometimes, this caused the filter between his brain and his mouth to thin, allowing whatever he’s thinking in that moment to slip out.

“Do you have a map? Because I’m getting lost in your eyes... ” he said dreamily.

Your head shot up in an instant, puzzled by the seemingly random affection, only to see Matsuda covering his lips as a dark blush began to rise on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Th-that’s not...I-“

“Honey...” you shook your head and sighed, placing your pen down flat on the desk, “That is the literal worst line ever but it sounds wonderful coming from you.”

“O-oh. Thanks?” He chuckled nervously, massaging the back of his neck as his skin became slick with sweat.

You leaned over the desk and pecked his lips before collecting your paperwork in a neat stack, placing it all carefully in your shoulder bag, careful not to bend any corners. “Why don’t I finish my work in that nice little coffee shop across the street. Join me?”

“Y-yes! I’d love to. It’s getting a little stuffy in here, anyway.”

Misa

“Ughhhhh I’m so tired! What a day!” Misa exclaimed, stretching out her arms above her head as she walked over to her folding chair. The white, feathery wings fastened to her back smacked people and equipment as she passed them, but you saw her as nothing but elegant.

Your girlfriend plopped her butt down into the fragile chair, giving Matsuda a scare when it nearly toppled over. With beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, he handed the girl her coffee.

“Aw, thanks, Matsu! And you too, (Name)! I wouldn’t be able to do any of my scenes without you guys cheering me on!”

You chuckled, cheeks turning a dusted shade of pink at Misa’s praise. “Dont give us all the credit, babe. You’re the one giving your all up there.”

Misa twisted in her chair to grab at your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. “You’re too sweet, honey! Y’know, if it were up to me, you’d be the one wearing these wings!”

“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t take your place!” You said, gesturing to the fountain where Misa’s scene had just been filmed.

The blonde giggled and brought your fingers to her lips, giving them a couple kisses before shaking her head. “I meant I’d have you in these wings because you’re an absolute Angel , silly!”

Before you could even begin to respond, Matsuda beat you to it. “Aww my gosh, you guys! Could I be the best man at your wedding?”

“Hmm...” you pretended to ponder while tapping your chin with your index finger. “How do you feel about being the flower boy?”

“Done!”

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