#platonic; mysteries and candy bars

[kamisama1kiss]

don’t mind me, just an anon dropping the idea of Descendants AU Lloyd Garmadon into your head so I’m not the only one suffering with the idea of it

...Wait, this is smart. Since we all know who his father is 🤭 that is so absolutely yummy! I saw this at about 5 am. And had a hard time falling asleep after wanting to see more of this AU. Whoever you are, you're an absolute genius

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon { Rotten to the core }

Platonic headcanons

~

• I can definitely see him wear a lot of dark greens, black and gold details alongside some bone design along his outfit, taking insporation from when he was younger

• He is on the VK island. You can't change my mind

• Being one of the chosen ones to go alongside Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlose to leave for Arudon (if we follow the storyline)

• It took him a lot longer to get used to all the none stealing, discovery of his new favourite food which would be sweets

• Mostly silent or scoffing at others with a nutural expression, but eventually, when getting closer to actually him considering you a friend som smaller hints of smile will be present

• Let only specific people touch him since he had little to nothing or not at all a good connection with his father and his mother, it made him feel weak which is a big no no

• A ton of stolen candy bars hidden under his pillow from the day

• Had naturally a mystery aura around him, being closest to the four other VK with a few others eventually around the school

• Would use his Oni aspect of him whenever anyone gets on his nerves to scare them off or just intimate the person

• Would constantly be on the move. He is everywhere yet nowhere at the same time

Romantic

~

•Definitely the trope of you fell first he fell harder

• It took MONTHS for him to even know what the things he felt meant. After listening in on Evie and Mals' conversation, he would understand what he was infant having romantic feelings

•Definitely in denial, having never felt it before, which did scare him even more. Pushing you away at all cost

•The only reason why the relationship even started had to be because you asked/told him that you felt romantic twords him

• Still in denying it, but decided to try after thinking a few days in a row about it

"I suppose it can't hurt.. trying? Just be aware that it will not be a walk in the park."

"I understand that very well... even went through the thought many of time, I want this"

• The answer only made him feel more secure about his decision and felt safe to let you in, his heart having never gone this fast before, even from all the danger he has gone through

• He stole things for you just because it reminded him of you and thought you'd like it. Knowing it would make you smile made it worth getting in trouble

• No PDA whatsoever, but if lucky, maybe a little pinky finger holding in the start at least. It took months of resuring and convincing, but now, at least, he'd be willing to hold hand. Maybe even a hand on the small of their back

• If anyone says or looked at his s/o weirdly, he wouldn't hesitate to put the person in their place

• Prefers sitting in silence and just comfortably exist next to one another under the moon and stars

• Playing with his hair would simply put him to sleep within seconds. Any sort of touch from his s/o would immediately relax him. Being on guard and tense from being used to the island

I am tempted to make some sort of fanfiction of this AU 🤭🤭 if there are any suggestions, I'd happily write them of our very beloved evil oni boy.

I've been sat here for an hour, just giggling to myself

[mamamittens]

Spooktober 2024 Event!

Running from 9/22/2024 to 9/30/2024 is my Spooktober Event!

A Halloween Party!

Which if you've been on the lookout, you'll have been given a spoiler for very recently!

It’ll be a lot like my Shake Date Event, actually.

Here’s how it’s going to work!

You, or if I’ve done it for you before, an OC, are going to a Halloween party! And you’ve been given a ride with a character (or two!). Maybe you dressed up, or maybe they did, but you find that there’s a candy bucket (or something close) waiting for you in the car. A little treat for coming out with them—how sweet!

You are to send me an ask in my ask box who was dressed up (they’ll be the ‘monster’ they’re dressed as), what candy bucket you’ve got, and what was in it! As for personal descriptions, you’re to tell me what you want me to know! I don’t know what you look like, after all. So let me know if you prefer a particular style of dress, your basic details, and something you want to have attention drawn to. Whether that’s your serious personality, or freckles! This is easier for OCs, as I’ll already have a frame of reference.

When doing the candy, feel free to have it be ‘given’ to someone specific if you want them to have that in particular. It’s nice to share, after all!

If you’re +18, you can drink at the party with your partner. Keep in mind the ‘costumes’ when asking for shots and who’s ordering them!

Costume – Monster

Vampire

Werewolf

Ghost

Demon

Serial killer

Undead

Scarecrows

Reaper

Boogeyman

Witch/Wizard

Naga (Snake person)

Drider (Spider person)

Mermaid

Angel

Alien (Specify the type if you’d like, whether that’s ‘The Thing’ or otherwise. If not, it’s dealer’s choice.)

Evil scientist

Hitman

Siren

Cult

Priest

Fae

Relationship – Chocolate Bars

Milk Chocolate - Meet cute

Cherry Chocolate - Rivals->lovers

White Chocolate – Friends ->lovers

Dark Chocolate - Predator/prey

Caramel Chocolate - Coworkers

Mint chocolate chip - Strangers

Kisses - Fling

Pop rock chocolate - Childhood friends

Chocolate covered nuts - One sided crush

Chocolate Orange -Yandere

Raspberry Chocolate – Platonic (For non-romance/sex)

Setting – Candy holder

Wooden Basket - Cabin in the woods

Leftover Bucket - Abandoned building (context may change exact type)

Recycled Milk Jug - ‘Normal town’

Prop Bucket - Dreamscape

Fuzzy Bucket - Home alone

Paper Bag - Countryside

Pumpkin Bucket - Actual normal town, urban fantasy/supernatural -esque setting

Plastic Bag – Workplace

Metal Bucket – Space

Striped bucket – Abandoned/Isolated lighthouse

Woven bucket – The Woods, such as a national park.

Salt treated wood bucket- The Ocean/On a Ship

Additional tropes

Smarties - Final Girl/Boy

Gummy Pack - Cursed artifact

Jolly Rancher - Stormy Night

Sour Patch - Summoning Evil

Tootsie Roll - Sacrificial offer

Ring Pop - Arranged Marriage

Fun Dip - Cosmic horror

Swedish Fish - Secretly the Monster/double life

Air Heads - Forbidden romance

Nerds - The Prophecy™

Twizzlers - Soul Mates

Blow Pop – Injury

Chewing gum – Hypnosis

Toffee – Urban exploration

Taffy – Reincarnated soul

Malts – Mysterious neighbor

Fireball – Stalker

Cotton Candy – Life debt

NSFW options below

BE WARNED: If you don’t have your age (at least a +18, I don’t need exact age, down to minute) in your bio or somewhere easily visible on your blog, I will just delete your ask. You must also have your character of choice (or characters) be +18 for this option.

I also will not be breaking any previous boundaries in concern towards the smut. So rest assured, there will be no coprophilia, water play, whatever fancy word for vomit there is, tickle play, age play, real people fiction, non con, or underage relationships. Requests to the contrary will, at best, be politely ignored.

This is not up for debate.

Smut

Black Rose - Breeding Kink

Butterball - Knotting

Cement Mixer – Pregnancy

Big Bang - Eggs

White Russian – Creampie/Cum play

Hot Damn – Praise kink

Mind Eraser – Degradation

Afterburner – Choking/breathplay

Jell-o shot – Edging

Pineapple Upside Down Cake – Oral

Alice in Wonderland – Size Kink

Motor Oil – Marking

Kamikaze – Temperature play (Served hot or cold for temp preferences)

Jager Bomb – Rough Sex (Extra strong is hate sex)

Green Tea shot – Soft Sex

Pink Schnapps – Dom/Sub (The person receiving this shot will be designated the ‘Sub’)

Black Jack – Restraints

Brain Hemorrhage - Overstimulation

Gladiator – Public Sex

Sangrita – Blood play

Apocalypse Now – Medical play (functions as the BD/SM shot)

B-52 – Toys/Objects (Also functions as the BD/SM shot, exact details contingent on other selections)

Jellybean – Anal (functions as the BD/SM shot, if the ‘giver’ is a human AFAB, a toy or strap is assumed. Ask for ‘Mini Jellybean’ for anal play but not full anal. Regarding AMAB characters, anal may be assumed regardless of this shot not being ordered)

I know there’s a word limit for an ask, so feel free to be a bit dry if you have to. If I REALLY have to, I can always ask for clarification through DMs, but I’d like to avoid it if possible. To that end, have your dms open so that I can actually ask. If I can’t get clarification and the ask is impossible to complete without it, I may just delete it.

Driest example possible:

“I, X (AFAB, Masc), go with Shanks (Vampire). I prefer casual dress, I have short blond hair, I’m a professional athlete (weights) but a bit chubby for off season, tan, and dark eyes. There’s a paper bag with Chocolate nuts that I give to him, with Jolly ranchers, sour patch, and tootsie rolls. He drinks a sangrita and we share Jager bomb, gladiator, brain hemmorrage, and cement mixers.”

It doesn’t have to be super detailed if you prefer to be straight forward to keep it within the word count. And it could also be very detailed if you’d like to play with it a little! As long as it’s clear, I don’t mind at all!

In relation to characters dramatically taller than what is realistic, I may tweak their height to something less… daunting without having to be asked. So, someone like Katakuri from One Piece may not be 16+ feet in a normal, ‘mostly human’ setting.

Other than that, I look forward to seeing what ya’ll come up with and hope it makes for a spooky good fun time for everyone!

[clotpolesonly]

Live A Little (Love A Lot)

some silly Bronan platonic bonding and bickering in honor of valentine's day, cuz they're just so much fun and i love them | Bronan | Gen | 3k | Banter | Fluff & Humor | Platonic Kisses | (also on AO3)

Blue wasn’t quite sure how she ended up alone at Monmouth Manufacturing with Ronan. Gansey was at a family function—a political function, rather, that happened to involve his family, and thus required his presence to complete the pretty picture—and Adam wouldn’t be back from his factory shift for another twenty minutes or so. She had a feeling that Noah might have been here at some point, but after his sacrifice and Cabeswater’s reconstitution of Gansey, their ability to keep track of him in their minds and their memories was a little hit or miss.

However it had started, now it was just Blue cross-legged on Gansey’s bed, being nosy and going through all the books he had stacked up on the floor beside it in a tower tall enough to act as a nightstand for yet more books, and Ronan, sprawled out on the main strip of miniature Henrietta and tossing bits of potato chip into the air for Chainsaw to swoop for. Half the time, she was too late to catch them and the bits fell back down to hit him in the face. He didn’t seem to mind much.

It was a drowsy, boring, waiting type of afternoon, but it was kind of nice too. Out of all her boys, Ronan was the one she’d spent the least amount of time with, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever spent more than a few minutes with only him. Being trapped in a frightening mystical underground cavern in the dark together and tormented by images of their dead and potentially soon-to-be-dead loved ones, she thought, didn’t count.

She put down Rhiannon: An Inquiry into the Origins of the First and Third Branches of the Mabinogi and picked up Mysterious Creatures: A Guide to Cryptozoology next. It had a candy bar wrapper stuffed in it as a bookmark, about thirty pages from the end. There had been ten books stacked on top of it. Blue wondered if Gansey remembered or had even noticed that he hadn’t gotten around to those last thirty pages. Probably not.

“Hey, maggot.”

A few months ago, this might have ruined her good mood. Now she just turned to the entry on Sasquatch—Gansey had doodled several footprints of varying sizes in the margins here—and said, “I’m not dignifying that by answering to it.”

“You just did, moron. Hey, would you date me?”

Blue put the book down. “Come again?”

Ronan had not unsprawled from downtown, one foot planted on Magnolia Drive so that his crooked knee towered over the drug store with the old-timey striped awning, the other elbow jutting out between the public library and the less respectable of Henrietta’s two Denny’s. Chainsaw seemed to have realized where all the chip bits were coming from. She’d stolen the bag right out of Ronan’s hand and was pecking covetously through its contents a few crossroads away. Ronan had to crane his head back, pale throat bared, to look at Blue upside down.

“Noah said you said you’d go out with him—” Well, that at least confirmed her suspicion about how they’d ended up in this position, though it smarted that Ronan seemed to remember something that she didn’t. “—you know, if he was alive and shit. What about me?”

“You are alive. And shit.”

“No duh, dumbass. I meant, would you go out with me? If I asked?”

Blue blinked at him. “Ronan, you don’t want to go out with me.”

Ronan’s eye roll was impressive in its thoroughness. “Yeah, yeah, but, you know. If I did.”

For a moment, Blue was stymied, both by the question itself and by the fact that Ronan had asked it. It struck her as nonsensical in a way that none of their wild, mind-bending, magical shenanigans ever had. Then she looked at Ronan again—at the sharp and graceful hooks of his elaborate tattoo, at the artfully distressed jeans that she knew he bought that way on purpose rather than letting them get ripped up organically, at the way he lounged like he was just waiting for somebody to paint him like one of their french girls. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is this a pride thing?”

Ronan grinned, sharp and unrepentant; she had him pegged and he seemed to like that. “Gotta make sure the chicks dig me.”

“Even if you don’t dig ‘em back?”

“Especially when I don’t dig ‘em back.”

Blue huffed. A piece of unruly hair, escaped from its clip, bounced haphazardly in front of her face. She ignored it in favor of grabbing another one of Gansey’s books without looking at its title. “Well, I am not a chick—” Her tone made very clear how unfeminist she considered the term to be. “—and I’m not dignifying that question with a response either.”

“Oh, come on.”

Ronan dragged out the last syllable for a day and a half. Maybe two days. There was a whole Daylight Saving’s Time trapped inside that syllable. He finally rolled himself out of the road to sit up, startling Chainsaw into flight and nearly knocking the painstakingly crafted popsicle stick awning off the drug store, just so he could make an entreating face at her. She ignored that too.

“You said you’d date Noah!” he whined. “You dated Parrish! You’re all up on Gansey’s d—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Ronan Lynch.”

“And now Cheng too!” Ronan scoffed spectacularly. “Not to be confused with Cheng Two, though at the rate you’re going—”

Blue snapped her book closed and said, “Quit being a shitbag, Lynch. I don’t date shitbags regardless of their sexuality.”

Ronan made a very put-upon noise, like she was being unreasonable about the whole thing and horribly unfair to boot. “If I was attracted to women, and neither of us was dating anybody else who would object, and I asked you out. Would you say yes? That’s all I’m asking!”

“You really want to know?”

Ronan frowned stubbornly at her in response. It wasn’t an angry kind of frown, though. She was very used to Ronan’s angry frowns, and his angry glares, and his angry smiles, and pretty much every other kind of angry expression, seeing as anger was his default emotion. This one looked more petulant than anything. Grumpy in a challenging kind of way, like a goat getting ready to butt heads, or like one of the toddlers that frequented 300 Fox Way when they wanted to stay up past bedtime and had a whole argument ready to present in favor of the idea and were just begging for somebody to try and tell them they shouldn’t.

This wasn’t an angry or upset Ronan, Blue realized. This was Ronan in a good mood. He was having fun arguing with her like this.

She bit down on a smile. “You really want to know?” She dragged out the word for a whole ‘nothing Daylight Saving’s Time.

Ronan picked up a stray chip and threw it in her direction. It bounced off her knee and fell down behind Gansey’s pillow. “Why would I ask a question if I didn’t want to know the answer, huh? Stupid.”

Blue put the book she’d been pretending to read back on its precarious tower—several books shorter now than it had been before she’d gotten nosy—and stood, hands on her hips. “Come on, then,” she said brusquely. “Get up.”

Ronan blinked up at her, taken aback. “What for?”

“I like to make informed decisions. Up! Let me get a look at you.”

For a second, she thought he might object to the idea of being examined and evaluated like livestock, but then another grin bloomed on his face, every bit as sharp and unrepentant as the last. He stood with the coiled grace of a pit viper ready to strike. His arms, bared by his black tank top, were impressively muscled, and his tattoo flirted over the edge of his solid shoulders. His thumbs found his belt loops, jeans low slung and hips jutting forward. His eyes really were some of the bluest Blue had ever seen, rivaled only by his own brothers. He was all sharp angles and contrast, danger and insouciance, like a cat on a tightrope casually licking its claws.

In short, he looked good, and it was obvious he knew it. Nobody adored a Lynch like a Lynch.

Blue kept her face impassive, lips pursed. She took her time circling him. He didn’t turn his head to watch her, content, apparently, to let her survey him from every angle. There was a smirk on his lips by the time she came back around to stand in front of him.

“So?” he asked, a laugh in his tone. Like he knew what her answer would be. Like he’d already won. “What’s the verdict?”

Blue hummed thoughtfully. “No.”

Ronan lost his smirk. “What?” His voice had jumped up at least half an octave, like he’d been shocked into forgetting it was supposed to be low and gruff and sexy.

“No,” Blue said again, breezily. “I wouldn’t date you. Sorry.”

There was a moment of silence while Ronan recalibrated. She’d never seen him speechless before, but she had really and truly caught him off guard. As his mouth opened and closed without any words coming out, Blue thought he might actually be a little hurt.

Finally, he said, “Why the fuck not? You’d date everybody else!”

Blue crossed her arms over her chest, hoping her cheeks weren’t pink, and shrugged. “Don’t feel bad about it. It’s nothing personal,” she said honestly. “It’s not because I don’t see the appeal or anything. It’s just… Well, frankly, you’re too tall for my tastes.”

Ronan scoffed at once. “Seriously?”

Blue raised an eyebrow at him. Then she dragged her eyes down to what was actually on her level, which were his pectorals, if she was standing up real straight. She didn’t even reach his clavicle. He was, quite literally, head and shoulders taller than her.

“Gansey and Henry are already bad enough,” she said. “And Adam was on thin ice back when we were together. I would break my damn neck trying to kiss you! No offense.”

“How is that not offensive? Not my fault you’re a midget.”

“Not my fault you’re the human equivalent of a telephone pole.”

“You should kiss me anyway.”

“What?” It was Blue’s turn to get squeaky with surprise.

Ronan had his smirk back, though. “I said you should kiss me anyway! You already kissed everybody else.”

Blue’s cheeks were definitely pink now, both at the reminder of the time she and Adam had ill-advisedly—AKA drunkenly—decided to finally have the kiss that had broken them up several months before, just for the sake of saying they’d done it, and at the realization that Ronan was right. What kind of cliche was she, the only girl in a group of boys, getting kissed by every one of them?

Well, almost every one.

“Ronan Lynch,” she said, indignant enough that nothing else needed to be said to make it known.

He was not shamed. “Come on, why not? I’m feeling very left out! One kiss. What, are you afraid you’ll fall desperately in love with me?”

Blue’s snort of laughter was so immediate and so strong that Ronan honestly should’ve been offended by it. He only grinned, though, and reached out to tug at the stray piece of hair in front of her face.

“Come on,” he said again. “Just one kiss. As a friend thing.”

Blue was pretty sure that wasn’t something normal friends did with each other. But, then, she was also aware that theirs was hardly a normal group of friends. She slapped his hand away and said, “A friend thing, really?”

“It’s only weird if we make it weird.”

“I think kissing my ex-boyfriend’s gay current boyfriend is weird by definition, no matter why I do it.”

Ronan’s grin widened. “Live a little, Sargent.”

There was a dare in that smile. It was the kind of smile Ronan gave to Adam that convinced Adam to tie himself to the back of the Pig and see if he could skateboard behind it like he was waterskiing because if he didn’t do it then it meant he was scared, and, if you asked Ronan, there was nothing worse than being scared. It was the kind of smile you rose to the challenge of or you risked losing Ronan Lynch’s respect, and, if you asked Blue, there was nothing worse than losing Ronan Lynch’s respect.

Blue kicked Ronan in the shin. Hard.

He yelped, as much out of surprise as from pain, and pitched forward to protect the area under attack. Blue only had to give him a little push to get him down on one knee.

“Fuckshit, maggot, what was that f—”

Blue caught his face in her hands and cut off his question with a kiss. It was a proper one, too, not one of those chaste little grandma-pecks. If Ronan Lynch wanted a kiss, then she was damn well going to give him one. There was only a split second of bafflement before he was giving back as good as he got, never one to lose or be outdone. Blue had to acknowledge, at least to herself and never ever out loud where anyone else could hear, that Adam was a lucky man.

When she was certain that the challenge had been met to everybody’s satisfaction, she pulled back to pat Ronan on the cheek. Stunned, Ronan let her get away with it.

In answer to his interrupted question, she said, “I told you you’re too tall. As nice a kiss as that was, I wasn’t about to break my neck for it. And anyway, I think I like you better like this.”

The sharklike look on his face was all the warning she had. In a split second, Ronan was on his feet again, one arm wrapped around her to keep her in place, ruffling her hair so aggressively that it sent clips ricocheting around the room. Chainsaw immediately started snatching them up and spiriting them away.

“Lynch, you asshole!”

Ronan released her with a peal of laughter. He dodged her attempt to grab him back and made good use of his significantly longer legs to book it to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She could still hear him laughing in there.

“Yeah, yuck it up, chucklefuck,” she yelled. “See if I ever kiss you again!”

“What’s going on here?”

Blue spun around to see Adam, bleary-eyed and grimy, paused in the entrance. She hadn’t heard the heavy door open over all the commotion. Straightening out the rumpled mess of her outfit and also, hopefully, her dignity, she said, “Your boyfriend’s cheating on you with me.”

There were several seconds where Adam tried to make sense of those words. Eventually, it seemed, he gave up. “Okay. I need a shower.”

He disappeared into the godforsaken bathroom-laundry-kitchen monstrosity. Blue huffed and threw herself back down onto Gansey’s bed. The chip Ronan had thrown at her earlier bounced out with the motion to nudge at her hand. She snatched it up, ate it, and only then remembered that it had been on the floor before it had become a projectile. Oh well. It was probably more sanitary than anything that had been prepared in that bathroom anyway.

“You lied.”

Blue spun around again, only this time it was Noah, smudgy and pale and half-there, that she found this time. He was lying on his stomach down the main strip of miniature Henrietta, poking at the drug store awning like it fascinated him. It felt, in that moment, like he’d been there the whole time.

“What d’you mean?” Blue asked him. “About what?”

“When you said you wouldn’t date Ronan if he asked. You totally would. No matter how tall he is.” He said it like a statement of fact. Like there was no doubt in his mind.

Blue stuck out her chin in defiance. “Oh yeah? Why are you so sure about that?”

Noah shrugged. “He’s one of your boys.”

Blue deflated. She made a very put-upon noise, but she could hardly argue. Not against Noah. “I guess. Don’t tell him, though. It would go straight to his head, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Noah mimed zipping up his mouth and throwing away the key. Chainsaw, returned from hiding Blue’s hairclips where no one would ever find them again, chased the motion like she thought he’d really thrown something and made a distinctly plaintive noise when she realized he hadn’t. He offered her a stray piece of cardboard in apology.

Blue settled back down into Gansey’s bed. She picked up The Welsh Kings: Warriors, Warlords And Princes and flipped to where a gas station receipt marked the day Gansey had forgotten he was reading it. The noise of the shower running was soft and soothing. Noah was humming something she was almost certain he’d learned from Ronan. Everything smelled like mint and dust and old paper.

Soon enough, she thought, Ronan would probably judge the coast clear. He’d emerge carefully, watching her for any sign that she was mad and preparing to launch another sneak attack on him. She was willing to bet he would be sharp-eyed and thrilled the entire time, delighted by the game. A sudden fondness filled her up so much she thought she might burst with it.

Noah was right. No matter how obnoxiously tall he was, no matter what a shithead he could be, no matter the nature of the relationship—Blue still loved Ronan more than words could say. How could she not? He was one of her boys.

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

Me being Me©, I see this and I can exclusively imagine this conversation;

“Kunikida, Ranpo, I can’t think of where to take Bronwen on a date. Do you have any ideas?”

“Director… what?”

“Don’t you both like cats? I’m sure Bunny knows of a cat café or too around here.”

“We already went last week, I’m afraid.”

“We gave case files to review, director-”

“I know, but this is important. Is there anything you heard her mention in the past, Ranpo?”

“Hm… oh! She did mention something, actually. There was a sushi restaurant she said looked nice a few days ago.”

“Perfect. I’ll need the address right away.”

“Right away, director!”

“…Did we really pause our work to help plan a date…?”

and ONLY then does Yukichi get the info he needs from Kunikida

[that-one-pretty-bitch]

Hi! Can you please do sierra agriche x fem shy child reader. Of course platonic. The reader was adopted by the agriche because she's an orphan and wants to be with sierra agriche because she sees her as her late mother. Also on side note, even though Roxana didn't not spend much time with sierra, let Roxana have a sister bond together along with sierra since I love sierra more than other characters pls.

Yessss babe, this is such a cute request, I was screaming while making this.

𝒮𝒾𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶 𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝑜 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹, 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇!!

         ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

                ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤:

Okay, so your father was a business partner of Lant’s and Lant had been close with your father.

Your mansion broke into a fire. You were not home at the time and realized that you had lost your parents through servants that made it out alive.

You had to have been from a powerful family and there was lots of potential in you.

Lant knew that your family was very powerful and you would grow up to be powerful too. So you were a perfect addition to the family.

However everyone in this mansion was out of their mind and he did not know who he should ask to take care of you.

Sierra was walking by when you tiny self just flung onto her, you most likely screamed “Mommy!!”, taking Sierra by surprise.

She just thought you were so cute and missed her own babies so she picked you up and hugged you. There were definitely tears in her eyes as she hugged you tightly.

Well, Lant’s problem was solved. From now on Sierra would raise you.

He spoke to Sierra about raising you to be a true Agriche and she agreed.

Sierra was really loving and constantly dotted on you

Probably a few days in you met Maria, Sierra’s wife and Maria ADORED you.

It's canon that Maria likes pretty things and you were a very pretty kid so Maria also doted on you.

Now you have two loving moms.

Soooo Sierra would be the kind of mom that would force you to eat vegetables and less junk food. Whereas Maria would be that dad mom that would secretly give you a candy bar or chocolate cake and say stuff like, “Shhh~ don’t tell Sierra okay?”

It was about time the others noticed you.

Charlotte secretly liked being an older sister even though she would never admit it. She would always bring you candies and toys but never admitted that she brought them for you like, “Roxana told me to give these to you,”

You knew Charlotte was the one who got it though.

Grizelda was the cool older sister that you looked up to. She would read with you and teach you how to draw and write.

Grizelda was literally so patient with you omg. She would reward you with dark chocolate mints they tasted like shit, because she cared about your health.

Grizelda was that strict mom kind that would take away any candy from you that looked too sugary. Because sugar was bad for you.

You once gave Grizelda an awfully made drawing of the two of you and her heart melted.

"Lwok swistaw its uwssss"

ISTG reader you are too precioussssss

Roxana would act like she wanted nothing to do with you at first but eventually she would give in. ( In like a day )

Roxana would be the sister that would bring you nice dresses and jewelry. She would always give you fashion inspiration even though you were like 6.

Roxana would also secretly poison your food to build your tolerance and you would find out YEARS later and be like…. ????? You poisoned my food????

As you grow older Roxana would also teach you the arts of seduction, because you were pretty and pretty people are weapons.

She would keep you away from her poisonous butterflies and protect you from some of the gruesome scenes that happened when Sierra was busy having a panic attack.

Dion was like that mysterious older brother.

He would randomly pop into your room in the middle of the night, covered in blood with the toy you wanted in his hands.

He would buy the things you wanted whenever he was out on his mission

Okay hear me out : Sugar daddy material-

Also one who would sneak you yummy snack and then be scolded by Sierra, Roxana and Grizelda. ( The moms squad )

He would show you different kinds of weapons and think you were taking an interest in them

While you were sitting on his lap and reading he would randomly hand you a dagger and tell you to go stab a maid that wasn’t doing her job properly. He would even demonstrate for you.

Jeremy was the older brother that was more immature than you-

Hear me out, whenever you cried and threw a tantrum he would join in.

So basically, Roxana had to take care of two annoying children.

You and Jeremy are part of the Roxana fan club that Fountain tried to join but you both kicked him out.

Y/n 🤝Jeremy —> Adoring Roxana

If anything happened to you Jeremy would be the first one to commit arson.

Cassis had once called you adorable and the next day the Pedelian mansion was up in flames.

This was the work of your ~~Very~~overprotective brother Jeremy

So overall your life was good, you had it easy. Everyone loved you, cute baby.

[sivyera]

HIII if you’re taking requests can i make one for dipper with an s/o that’s shy but secretly plays guitar in a band yk like stuff like nirvana or arctic monkeys and they sing too and i’m just thinking abt mabel dragging him into one of their concerts and they’re just both staring at this person that rarely talks singing and playing guitar in-front of a crowd

Perfect.

request → yes

PAIRING: Dipper Pines x shy!reader (romantic), Mabel Pines x shy!reader (platonic)

CONTAINS: fluff

WARNINGS: none

SONG: Genius - Sia, Labrinth

A/N: I'm not a very shy person but I'm pretty quiet so I don't see a big problem about writing this nad I loved that idea so thank you so much for requesting. Also I currently have covid so I apologise for slow updates. Enjoy!

gif is not mine

You and Dipper have been dating a few months and you couldn't be happier. He was so kind to you and he was patient with you all the time.

You weren't really extrovert and you were shy so much people used to talk when you talked or they just looked annoyed when you speak. So you slowly stopped talking at all. But when you met the twins everything change.

Mabel was sweet, very energetic and open-minded so she always liked your ideas and opinions on everything. On the contrary Dipper was nerd and little quiet as you. He always had his head buried into his journal.

And you, you always had something for music but no one actually ever asked so why bring that up. You had two close childhood friends who were playing on musical instruments as well.

One of them find a new drummer so you decided to play in little bar in Gravity Falls. This wasn't your first time to play there and people always loved it.

Your music was magical and your voice was perfect.

What you didn't expect was that Mabel heard about your concert and she was so excited to go.

Mabel heard from Candy that singer of this band had an amazing voice. But Dipper really didn't like the idea of going. He would rather stay in Mystery Shack in his room reading. But there he is, sitting in a back seat with happy Mabel next to him.

'If it's another stupid boy band you are dragging me at, I swear Mabel...' Dipper said annoyed. Mabel looked him with a grin on her face, giggling a little. She knew that Dipper wasn't really into music but when he listen something cool and chill, something with he could read easily.

'Don't worry Dipper you will like it.' she said while she was drawing little Waddles face on a car door. Dipper just rolled his eyes and look on the passing forest outside the window.

----

Dipper was patiently waiting on the band Mabel was so excited about, tapping his foot on the bar ground while Mabel was sitting right next to him drinking some juice she bought.

Suddenly lights slowly dimmed and one big light was aiming on a stage where now was standing you. Wait you?! Dipper rubbed his eyes once again if he wasn't just imagine you. He quickly turned to looked at Mabel and she seemed just as surprised as he was.

But before he could speak, you started playing. When he heard the soft sound coming from you, he was charmed. His eyes were twitching all over your body. How calm you looked.

He thought it wasn't you, you just looked so peacefully. Mabel put a big bright smile on her face, she loved your band already.

You took a deep breath and start singing. You always let out all emotions you had in every song. It was like a therapy for you. Dipper had now his mouth fully open, eyes widen and Mabel swear she saw a little hearts floating around him.

Dipper watched you in amaze when your eyes met his. Your eyes widen a little because you didn't expect him to be here. Dipper gave you the softest smile so you couldn't help but smile back at him.

Mabel watch this interaction between you two with bright smile while she was screeching. She never saw her brother that happy, she was glad he have you.

Mabel wave at you with a braces smile. You already knew she had million questions for you about this whole guitar and singing thing.

But Dipper on the other side was very happy that he learned something new about you. He sure wanted hear more songs from you but he will wait after this concert. And he already knew that this wasn't his last concert.

He fell in love with you even more and he doesn't planning to stop.

I hope you like it!

[yandere-toons]

Have you ever tried to write for Wreck It Ralph? that movie was always my favorite, I would love to see a Yandere Fix It Felix Jr.

Yandere Fix-It Felix Jr. (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

Warnings: psychological manipulation, toxic mindset.

A.N. – I rewatched this movie for Felix and King Candy, only to remember how much I like Calhoun and the dialogue in general.

Platonic:

With his role in the arcade game as the hero who repairs what others damage, Felix is inclined to present himself as a helper and eternal ally to his friend. He notices the aspects of their life that make them unhappy, such as a bad habit or shoddy environment, and proposes ways to alleviate it. Felix upgrades their home and belongings at the slightest indication of their wanting more, and he voices his intent to guide them through a better and healthier life while dismissing any protests as a mere fear of change.

When his friend mentions a craving or desiring anything that they lack, he ponders the best modes of retrieval while the arcade is open and throws all his spare time into obtaining it. Felix is not above hesitation depending on the magnitude of the wish, but he values his heroic reputation and does not want to be seen as cowardly or unhelpful. The builder is willing to risk his health by venturing into dangerous parts of the arcade and bargaining with other video game characters if it means giving his friend a reason to be happy.

If they evade his attempts to be around them or send him on increasingly demanding quests, Felix turns into a distraught wreck and complains about a gradual loss of sanity to anyone willing to listen. Ralph and Tapper aim to convince him that making late-night treks to the latter's bar and chugging root beer is not a viable solution, but he swears that the origin of the conflict is a mystery to him. Felix wallows in self-pity for a short while before scrambling to be twice as helpful, believing that his friend doubts his commitment and requires more proof of his loyalty.

Romantic:

A peacekeeper at heart, Felix is a strong believer in diplomacy and non-confrontational resolutions to any quarrel. His methods of mediating a stressful situation can be a bit duplicitous, such as if, whether due to insecurity or suspicion of their motive, he dislikes someone who befriends his partner. Felix loses their invitations to parties in the penthouse, distracts his partner when they consider visiting the person's game and treats his quiet attempts at excluding them like silly accidents or coincidences if questioned.

Felix prefers to be near his partner at all times to intervene if they are ever uncomfortable with a conversation or social setting. Anxiety creeps into his thoughts when the players and business hours of the arcade force him to be away from them for most of the day, inspiring frequent bouts of worrying about their safety and current activities. The builder is not one to start a fight, but his tendency to be overbearing and concerned about their wellbeing is heightened whenever he sees his partner interacting with lots of other people.

Grudges and coveting vengeance are not his style. Even if his partner is rude to him or disregards his wishes, Felix never gets angry with them; instead, he complains to Ralph and the Nicelanders about his perceived failure to connect with them. He blames every conflict, big or small, on a misunderstanding and avoids the concept of his partner having malevolent intentions or a genuine distaste for him.

[dinogoofy]

It's here!

I'm finally Posting my prompt list for... inktober? Fictober? Idk.

(Again, this is my own, personal prompt list I will be using as a challenge for myself. This is not the official fictober prompt list.)

Each of these fics will be anywhere from 10-1,000 words long, maybe a little longer! They will range from romantic and platonic, but none will be NSFW. They might run a little behind schedule sometimes, but they'll get uploaded!

Without further ado...

1. Trick- Kung Lao

2. Treat- Liu Kang.

3. Pumpkin- Fujin.

4. Candy corn- Kabal.

5. Chocolate bars.- Kitana

6. Kisses.- Hanzo.

7. Costumes- Kuai.

8. Werewolf- Kabal.

9. Vampire- Nightwolf

10. Witch- Quan-chi

11. Warlock- Shang tsung.

12.  Mummy- Rain

13. Ghost- Smoke.

14. Frankenstein's monster- Geras

15. Zombie- Johnny Cage.

16. Headless horsemen- Erron

17. Demon- Kuai

18. Horror movie- Raiden.

19. Mystery- Jade

20. Decorations- Cassie Cage

21. Halloween town- Jax

22. Scream- Bi-Han

23. Skeleton- Mileena.

24. Full moon- Nightwolf

25. Haunted house- Kabal.

26. Spiders- Devorah.

27. Circus-Johnny cage

28. Tarot -Kano.

29. Ouji- Sektor

30. Witch's Brew- Cyrax

31. Halloween party- All!

[lucielbi666]

Imagine

Character: Laurits Seier

Pair: Laurits × Platonic!Reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: None, just some fluff and Laurits getting the love and affection he deserves and my poor grammar

Tv show: Ragnarök (seasons 1 and 2 available on Netflix)

Was this idea just perfect? Yes, it was Our chaotic little god deserves all this love and more Let me tag someone here: @babyboy-laurits

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Title: He will be loved

The ebony-haired boy was walking through the cold streets, the icy weather and a deep deafening silence was everywhere in the city. It was almost a scene of terror

The boy sighed as he tried to light a cigarette in his hands, his porcelain skin was bruised all over his face, which made him look like a 'troublemaker' or a 'hooligan'. Laurits felt the bruise in his eye throbbing but tried to ignore the pain because it would go away sooner or later.

In the distance a person was watching the boy, they were wearing cold pants and a hooded jacket and were slowly getting closer They sat down beside the brunette, taking something from a backpack and then handing it to the boy

Laurits: *looks away* What...

It was a box of matches, hesitantly the boy took the box and managed to light a cigarette. The mysterious person had not opened his mouth but just leaned against the railing in front of him and continued observing the view of the city

Laurits: Aren't you going to tell me your name *he asked while smoking*?

The person shrugged, then took something else from his backpack. Laurits realized it was a piece of candy and just watched the eccentric figure eat the candy without saying anything

Laurits: Do you usually give matchboxes to random smokers around *tried to lighten the mood*?

Y/N: Maybe *said finishing eating the candy*. I just saw that you were a little sad, I wanted to try to make your day better.

The answer took the boy by surprise, a strange person wanted to try to make his day better just for the sake of making it better

Without even asking for anything in return, he just did it because he wanted to. This kind of attitude didn't seem to fit with reality, Laurits had no faith that there were still good people in this fucked up society

Laurits: Is this serious *says finishing his cigarette*?

Y/N: Yes it is, you don't believe in good people anymore?

Laurits: I might start believing *says looking at the stranger*.

Y/N finally could look more closely at the boy's face, his heart tightened as he saw the numerous bruises across the pale boy's face. They approached slowly so as not to startle the boy

Y/N: What happened to your face *shows concern*?

Laurits looked away, finding this concern strange and also not wanting to answer the question. Although his heart warmed at the feeling that this person might actually care about him

Y/N: It must really hurt. May I *raised his hand to touch the boy's face*? I promise to be careful.

Laurits sighed, seeing the genuine concern on their faces and nodded. Y/N's fingers touched the milky skin gently, almost as delicately as a feather Soon the fingers had gone around the bruise on his nose, his lip, and were now going around the violent purple in his eye. The blue orbs seemed to see their whole soul

Y/N: Whoever did this is a tremendous son of a bitch *said with fingers touching the boy's cheek*.

Laurits: I agree...

Y/N sighed, soon lowering his hand from the boy's face. Unconsciously Laurits missed the warmth that emanated from their palms, he wanted more of that feeling.

Y/N: Do you still think there are no good people in the world?

Laurits: *smiles sideways* I still need convincing.

Y/N smiles mischievously, quickly taking the boy by the hand and dragging him through the streets of the city. Little by little a smile was appearing on the boy's face, he squeezed his hand in Y/N's during the little run

Y/N: So, I have to change your mind.

Both entered a snack bar, Laurits' expression was slowly closing and Y/N noticed this. They gave the brunette's hand a squeeze and soon they sat down at a table

Y/N: So Love, I realized that this place doesn't bring you good memories.

Laurits: *relaxes on chair* Is it that obvious? And, Love?

Y/N: Yes, I like to call people nice nicknames because they are genuinely beautiful in their own way. It got a little obvious yes, you got serious all of a sudden.

Laurits: *looks away feeling a blush on his cheeks* Thanks for calling me pretty then.

Y/N: Yes you are Love, no need to be embarrassed. By the way, my name is Y/N and you prince?

Laurits: *laughing softly* My name is Laurits. Are you going to keep giving me nicknames like that?

Y/N: Ahm, yes. You deserve all this shower of compliments, people like you deserve all the love in the world *blinks one eye*.

Laurits felt his chest warm up again, that feeling of warmth and affection seemed to intoxicate Seier's senses. He began to wonder if the person in front of him was real or something created by his needy mind

Y/N: Do you mind if I order something for us?

Laurits: You ask and I pay?

Y/N: We'll split it, handsome, don't worry.

Laurits just nodded, watching the figure go to the cashier and order some food. Doubt began to crawl up the brunette's spine and into his head He began to think that Y/N was doing this out of pity, after all he was a freak

The brunette clenched his fists, trying to ignore the poisonous thoughts that were bubbling in his mind. Y/N soon sat down at the table again and quickly seeing the boy's condition

Y/N: Laurits...?

Slowly Y/N put his hand over the closed fist of the brunette. The skin to skin touch was almost enough to calm the boy

Laurits: Are you doing this out of pity *he asked suddenly*? Do you feel sorry for me?

Y/N had been taken aback by the question, they just sighed and looked deep into the boy's eyes. For a moment getting lost in the blue immensity

Y/N: I have no pity for you angel, none at all. Believe me when I say you deserve all the affection in the world, I know how it is...

They took the brunette's closed fist and gave him a light kiss, showing a kind of affection the brunette was not used to. Laurits could feel small tears forming in his eyes, he felt needed and loved at that moment.

The sentence was not finished, leaving in the air the real meaning behind those words. The brunette sighed, opening his palm and letting his hand meet Y/N's

Laurits: I guess we are two emotionally fucked up people.

Y/N: I think so but at least we have each other now...?

Laurits smiled, a genuine, cheerful smile

Laurits: Yes, we have each other now.

Y/N: Get ready to receive compliments every day Love, you deserve it.

Laurits: Only if you are prepared for a completely needy me.

Y/N: *smiles in corner* Oh you bet I am.

That cold day seemed to be warmed by all the kind words and attitudes that Y/N delivered to Laurits.

The little trickster was not far behind and did the same with them, including some jokes and sarcasms As they walked down the street, Y/N put his arm around the brunette's waist and he did the same.

New friends walking through the icy streets but warming up in each other's affection

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Well, that turned out better then I expected

Even I admmit it, is very cute tho

Anyways, hope you guys liked it (:

[writing-radionoises]

acceptance

ship: none, mostly yosano & ranpo platonic stuff with background ranpoe

genre: hurt/comfort

prompt: yosano never believed she was worthy to be ranpo’s sister.

notes: welcome to my circus tonight we’re talking about how much i love them

“You and Ranpo are pretty close, right?” Atsushi says, sitting on the examination table in Yosano’s office.

She had been checking in on a sprained ankle Atsushi had gotten yesterday, which had healed over nicely thanks to the tiger’s abilities.

“Yes, we’re very close,” Yosano replied, back against the counter as she scribbled down notes on a paper.

“Are you guys dating?”

Akiko laughs, nodding a no, “I think I’d actually kill him within a minute if we were dating.”

Atsushi quirks an eyebrow, “Then… Is it a brother-sister relationship, or are you guys just friends?”

“Hmm, well…” She answered, lifting up her head, “It’s complicated.”

It’s really not.

Yosano knows well what Ranpo considers them.

She’d love to call herself his sister, given if she had deserved the title.

Ranpo deserves a much better sister than her.

“You’re confusing me,” replied the silver haired boy with a frown.

“Sorry, Nakajima,” Yosano answered with a smile, “In short, Ranpo and I grew up together. If you really wanna know more, you should ask Ranpo himself.”

Atsushi nods, hopping off the table and beginning to make his way out of the office.

Akiko sighs.

One of these days, she’ll do something good, and feel worthy to call herself Ranpo’s sister.

“You seriously don’t know how the train system works?” Yosano asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy beside her.

“Yup!” Ranpo replied, enthusiastically.

“You’re thirteen years old!”

“Mhmm!”

Yosano sighed, head in her hands as she nodded a no.

“Fine, I’ll take you there.”

Ranpo only smiles in response, and Yosano takes his hand into hers as they walk down the streets.

Yosano does not know Yokohama very well, she has only been in this city for about a year. Though, Ranpo doesn’t really, either. They make frequent stops by maps, Yosano struggling to read them at her height and having to have Ranpo hold her up to see properly.

It’s a pretty summer afternoon, there are kids their age out and about at candy stores, parks, and coffee shops. Yosano can only look at them in sadness, because she has never gotten to experience that sort of thing.

Her entire life, she’s been used for her ability. She never got to be a kid, make friends and laugh in the summer.

“Akiko-chan,” Ranpo says, nudging Yosano as she looked away from the children and back to Ranpo.

“Hm?”

“You look sad.”

“I’m not,” Yosano insists, “Just…”

“You’re sad,” Ranpo replied, stopping dead in his tracks.

“Ranpo,” Yosano whined, “Come on, we gotta get to the train station!”

“Doesn’t matter anymore! I’ll disregard the case entirely, I’ll even call in!” Ranpo insisted, “Imouto-chan comes first!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Akiko sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why not?” Replied the brunette, “You’re my little sister, I can address you as such.”

“Well, then I’ll start calling you oniisan,” she answered with a huff.

“I’d like that!” He replied with a smile, and Yosano only blushed and sighed as Ranpo ruffled her hair.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Well, my insufferability seems to take your mind off of sadness,” Ranpo answered, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he spoke, “So I’ll keep being insufferable!”

Yosano smiled.

It’s late at night, and Yosano can’t sleep.

She lays wide awake in her dark bedroom, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to blink, because everything she closes her eyes, she’s back on the battle ground.

She’s eleven years old and wearing that stupid nurse uniform and watching soliders roll in one after another, each injury worse than the last. Missing legs, missing arms, partial decapitation, anything and everything.

It’s horrifying.

She just keeps healing them and they just keep coming back.

Yosano sits up in bed, biting her lip and trying to regulate her breathing once again.

It’s not the first night she’s been sleepless, it’s happened many times, but it’s the first time she’s had the option to ask for help.

Ranpo’s bed is across the room, him sleeping soundly with the blankets all kicked off of him and his back facing Yosano.

He said that Yosano can wake him up at any time if she needs anything…

But she feels guilty. Yosano doesn’t want to disrupt his sleep because of her own problems.

As if on cue, Ranpo awakes. He sits up, stretching his arms above his head as he rubs his eyes, turning around to grab his glasses.

“Hey, why are you awake?” He asks after putting on his glasses, looking at Yosano.

“I, um…” Yosano stuttered, struggling to put her thoughts into words.

“Can’t sleep?”

She nods.

Ranpo makes grabby hands at her, “Come here.”

Yosano does as told, standing up from her bed and grabbing her pillow as she moves over to Ranpo’s bed, sitting beside him.

“Stand here, I’ll be back,” Ranpo continues, standing up from the bed and proceeding to leave the room.

Yosano places her pillow next to Ranpo’s against the wall as she stares down at her white pajamas, shifting awkwardly.

Ranpo returns to the room with a glass of water and a book under his arm. setting the glass of water on his bedside stand and switching on the lamp as he sat down beside Yosano, showing her the book in his hands.

It was a simple book, messily bound with leather, the words on the front nearly impossible to read outside of the author’s name.

“What’s this?” Yosano asked, raising a brow.

“A mystery novel,” Ranpo replied with a smile, “A short one, at least. It was given to me from an American pen pal of mine, I ended up binding it into a book because Fukuzawa used to read it to me to sleep.”

Yosano nodded along, curiously, “And you want to share it with me? Really?”

Ranpo nods happily, “Yes, why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister, you’re family now.”

Yosano snuggled up against Ranpo’s side as he opened the book and began to read, readjusting his glasses.

Ranpo is lounging on the stairs to the agency, a lollipop in mouth as Yosano sits beside him, the box of lollipops in her hands as she sucks on her own.

It’s a hot day outside, and Fukuzawa has kicked them out because he has a meeting.

Ranpo has shorts and a baggy tank top on, his hat on Yosano instead of himself.

Yosano, on the other hand, has a skort and short sleeve blouse on.

They’re fifteen now, having known each other for four years now. Ranpo still calls her imouto-chan, introducing Akiko as his sister to just about everyone. Yosano has since given up on fighting it, because in reality, there’s no fighting Ranpo Edogawa.

He’s going to insist they’re siblings until the day he dies.

Even then, he’ll probably put “Yosano Akiko is my sister” on his grave, he’s that stubborn.

“Akiko-chan,” Ranpo says, sitting up from his lounging spot, “We should do something.”

“Like what?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she props her head up on her hand.

“I don’t know, what do normal teenagers do?”

“Get ice cream or like walk to the convenience store? I don’t know, you’re the only other teenager I’ve really met.”

Ranpo smiles, “We’ve gotta get you more friends.”

“Do I really need anymore?” Yosano replied, tilting her head, “You’re the only person I really care about.”

“It’s okay to care about more than one person, Akiko-chan,” Ranpo insists, frowning, “I’m not gonna leave you if you do make other friends.”

“I know,” Akiko says with a smile, “But making friends is hard.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Ranpo answered, leaving back against the stairs, “You know, I’m not good at making friends, either.”

“Really? You seem so friendly.”

“People think I’m weird,” he continues, “I don’t really know why. Fukuzawa-san noticed, though, and decided to set me up with a penpal. It was nice.”

“What was your penpal’s name?” Yosano asked.

“Edgar Allan Poe,” Ranpo answered, “He’s from America, writes a lot of mystery novels and poems. He’s two years older than me, one of these days we’re gonna actually meet up.”

Yosano smiles, “That sounds nice.”

“He’s really nice, honestly,” Ranpo explained, “Always wanted to call him, but he told me that he has a speaking problem. We text now, though.”

“I’d like to meet him,” Akiko responds.

“Maybe I’ll take you to America with me.”

Akiko laughs a little bit, Ranpo shifting and laying his head on Yosano’s shoulder.

“There you are, oniisan,” Akiko says, walking over to Ranpo’s place at the coffee shop table and setting a file on the table for him, a chocolate bar on top of the file.

“Hey, you called me oniisan!” Ranpo exclaimed enthusiastically, beginning to shake his left hand happily as Yosano nodded.

“Mhmm, took me fourteen years, but I finally did,” she says.

“I’m proud of you!” Edogawa continues, “You’ve come so far, I’m so proud of you!”

Akiko can’t help but smile, taking Ranpo into a half hug and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s only thanks to your help, Edogawa.”

[theromnempire]

The Dead of Night

Title: The Dead of Night Word Count: 1,346 Pairings: Intrulogical, platonic DLAMP, (Platonic Prinxiety or Rociet if you look hard enough) Warnings: blood, kind of gore, ghosts, ouija board, cemetery, Halloween Summary: Logan didn’t believe in the supernatural the way his friends did, but with their luck, he should have known to expect even his precious science to betray him.

Logan knew better than to mess around with a Ouija board, or at least he should have.

He didn’t particularly believe in ghosts—he was a man of science, after all—but with his friends, the uncanny was to be expected.

“Come on, Lo, not scared, are you?” Roman teased, tossing the football that was part of his costume his way and chuckling when Logan fumbled it.

“Hardly,” he countered, tossing the ball back but misjudging it so it instead bounced off Roman’s knees. “I just think there are better things to do on Halloween.”

“Like give out candy to sugar-rushed fiends? Re-watch pathetic ‘horror’ movies while Patton complains about a stomach ache because he had too much chocolate? Where’s the thrill in that, the adventure?”

Roman grinned at his friend, clasping D’s shoulder while saying, “At last, someone is speaking my language.”

“And Logan, what of a new discovery? The damn scientific method?”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Logan replied stubbornly, glancing to Virgil—the second most logical in the group—for support.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, “could be fun.”

Surprisingly, Patton was the one to interject, “Maybe . . . maybe we shouldn’t. This is the one night a year the ghosts have off because everyone is too busy doing other things to summon them. They might get angry.”

“We’ll be quick,” Roman affirmed, offering both Patton and Virgil—dressed as Peter Pan and the headless horseman respectively—a hand to pull them to their feet. Then he took the lead, opening the front door with Dee following close behind. “Come on now, Geek Squad.”

What we’ll be is dead, he thought, shaking his head before pulling up the rear, picking up the Ouija board that the others had almost forgotten and closing the door behind him.

The cemetery wasn’t far, just down the street, so they went on foot. The sidewalks were packed with kids cloaked in fabrics of every shade from ghost-white to pure midnight black. Princesses, pirates, heroes, villains, and monsters ruled the night, running from house to house as their parents tiredly followed at a distance. They paid the teenagers no mind and likewise, Logan and his friends ignored them.

But he remained cautious, apprehensive because, really, there was no scientific explanation for why his skin crawled. They were surrounded by people and the lights of their flashlights led the way, remaining on even as they slipped into the woods—leaves crunching beneath their sneakers—and towards the front gates of the cemetery.

The erected tombstones were silent thrones, marking corpses that have been decomposing for centuries and blocking out the hush of the wind as they all sat on the cold, hard ground.

“Did you remember the board, Roman?”

“I have it,” Logan said, placing it in the middle of the circle the others had created before taking a step back.

“Too scared to join, Lo?”

“There’s only enough room for a few of us and I am the least inclined to participate . . . so unless you are too scared and want me to join in, I’ll sacrifice my spot for you,” he countered, the banter almost too easy between him and his best friend. Roman scrunched his nose in response before turning back to the board, fingers brushing against his friends’ as he placed two of his on the eye.

Patton hesitated, eyes flickering back to Logan with his arms crossed and back leaning against a tombstone so old that the name was no longer distinguishable. He looked genuinely frightened.

“Don’t worry,” Logan assured in a quiet voice so that the others wouldn’t be able to hear, “there’s nothing to fear because it isn’t real. There’s no place after our world and, frankly, I don’t believe in the existence of souls because there is no proof and therefore, no way for the living to return as a ghost or anything of that nature.”

But Roman, Virgil, and Dee had already begun, Patton now unable to join as they moved their hands around clockwise and recited a phrase in hushed voices that Logan could barely hear. They were hesitant despite their earlier excitement. Something was amiss.

“Is there anyone here?” Dee called, voice rising to a normal tone. “If so, speak to us.”

Silence, not even the wind dared to breathe.

He repeated, “Is there anyone-”

At once, the flashlights from their phones went out, all dying as a cloud raced to conceal the moon, plunging them into an impregnable darkness.

Roman and Patton screamed, Virgil bit the inside of his cheek, and Dee’s breath hitched. Logan glanced down at his phone, brows furrowing as he tried to turn it back on, but not even the red bar flickered onto the dark screen. Not dead, tampered with, then.

Dee tried again, “Is there any-”

“YES, NOW SHUT UP!”

The five boys turned towards the disembodied voice, paling as a translucent figure floated inches above the ground with something that looked like blood dripping down from both its eyes and its mouth.

Logan tried to speak but found himself unable to, payalyzed as Virgil—in a moment of fight or flight—grabbed Roman by the wrist and took off, Patton on their heels.

Finding his voice but not looking away, he said to Dee, “How did you-”

“I didn’t.”

He was silent for a moment, feeling his heart race and beg him to follow it out of the cemetery. “Oh.”

The ghost—a boy that must’ve been about their age—grinned wider at the exchange, eyes almost horrifically wide and drawing attention away from the stitches adorning his neck and cheeks. He moved closer and Dee abandoned the board, Logan, and the ghost without a second thought. But even in his cowardly flight, he seemed to glide with purpose more than run for his life like the others had.

Logan stayed, unable to look away.

“Why don’t you run?”

Without missing a beat, and speaking without thinking much of it, he said, “Because there’s nothing to be afraid of.” And you’re somehow the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

He left that last part out, not sure exactly where it had even come from. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what it was, maybe just the beauty of scientific discovery and realizing just how mysterious and incredible the world he lived in was. But when the ghost took a step forward (would they be considered steps? he was floating, after all—a question for Logan to ponder later), his chest constricted. He concluded that it wasn’t that, not at all.

“What’s your name?”

“Names have power,” the ghost countered, smirking as he moved closer still, until they were less than a foot away. “And I won’t tell you mine unless you tell me yours.”

“Logan,” he said, feeling that there was no need to lie about it.

“Logan, Logan, Logan . . . I knew a Logan in life.”

“I’m sure, we are far from a minority.”

“Funnier than the others, aren’t we?”

“Your name,” Logan insisted, watching as the other’s head turned all the way around his body, hands reaching up to grab his head and straighten it as if it had moved on its own accord.

“And you’re sure you want to know, Logan, one of many? Finding out means creating a bond and . . . well, I’d have no reason to ever leave your side.”

The corners of Logan’s mouth flickered upward, the first hint of emotion other than shock he had revealed the entire night. “Perfect, a man can’t run experiments on an absent test subject.”

“Remus,” he said, looking away after and Logan’s phone sprang to life. He glanced down for a second, the bright light surrounded by the dark apple logo catching his attention, and when he looked up, Remus was gone.

Logan’s flashlight had turned back on and was directed to the ouija board where the eye was moving on its own accord. He crouched down beside it, silently recording the letters as the ghost, Remus, communicated.

You should be scared, I could kill you.

“Please,” Logan snorted, picking up the board and the eye before carrying it out of the cemetery, “I’d like to see you try.”

-

Author’s Note

just a quick little thing i wrote in one sitting in order to get over writer’s block. i was just going to make it a headcanon but thought why not write a fic to get the juice’s flowing?

thanks for reading and happy halloween! ronnie

[turtle-steverogers]

Not Guilty

remember when I was gonna write a murder mystery? well, it kinda took a turn plotwise, but here it finally is

Being a homicide detective is all fun and games until you start to fall for the lead suspect in your most recent case.

warnings: description of a dead body, talk about death

ship: ralbert, platonic spalbert

word count: 2480

Chapter 1

Even before Albert walked in on the dead body, his day wasn’t going well.  

His good uniform shirt hadn’t dried properly the night previous, so he had to go with his old one that was a little bit too small in all the wrong places.  The department was out of his favorite green tea, which meant he had to settle for that fucking dirt coffee Kelly and Conlon kept around for “sanity”.  And he’d been late on his lunch break, since Chief Roosevelt stuck Cortez’s paperwork on him last minute.

So, when he ventured into the bathroom of his favorite sandwich shop, only to find a fresh corpse and more blood than he ever really cared to see propped up neatly on the toilet, all he could find in himself to do was sigh.  And gag a little, but that was a given.

The coppery smell of blood and freshly shut down internal organs cuts brutally through the air and Albert reaches under his button down to pull his undershirt over his nose as he dials Spot’s number.  

As his phone’s ringing, Albert takes the time to steel himself and assess the body, first checking the pockets for any kind of identification.  When all he comes up with are a couple candy wrappers and a condom, he sighs again.  So, they’ll have to do this the hard way.  Typical.

“Yo, Dasilva, how’s the meatball sub?”

Albert gags again.  The last thing he wants to think about right now is his abandoned meat sandwich covered in red sauce.  No, nope.  Not right now.

“Yeah, uh, no,” Albert says, leaning back on his haunches, “We got a 10-54, possible homicide- multiple stab wounds to the chest and stomach.  I’m gonna need backup down here.”

There’s a pause, then Albert hears Spot groan, “And you’re still at Gianno’s?”

“Unfortunately.”

There’s a pause and Albert can picture Spot rubbing his eyes, “Fuck, okay, me and some others’ll be there soon.”

The line goes dead with a click and Albert casts another cursory look over the body.  Dilated eyes stare back at him, a slack jaw giving way to a bluish, swollen looking tongue.  He scrunches his nose, feeling a little dizzy.

“Bruh, you’re lookin’ rough.” 

The body does not answer.

-

The victim, Albert learns upon returning to the precinct, is some low level reporter for one of the smaller newspapers in New York: the Brooklyn Eagle.  

“Frank Wiesel, but folks call him Weasel.  Fitting, too.  The guys a biased asshole, apparently.  Republican, Conservative, the works.  Probably would fit in better with Fox News instead of a city newspaper, but…”

Spot leans back in his seat, tossing down the manilla case file and taking a long drink from his “10-4 Coffee That” mug.  It’s a stupid mug, but Spot has worshipped it since Jack had passed it over one Christmas Eve in the department, and honestly, Albert hasn’t seen him nearly as passionate over anything, so he bites his tongue. 

“An asshole, huh?” Albert pulls the case file towards himself and flips it open, eyes scanning the scowling face of Wiesel, “Anyone in particular who would have it out for him?  Or is he more of a generally known bastard type.”

“Hard to say,” Spot says, “He wrote some pretty nasty stuff about a few left leaning politicians in the area and got some pretty bad backlash because of that.  Plus his general lack of a filter’s gotten him kicked out of bars here and there around Manhattan, so…”

Albert hums, scrunching his nose.  Wiesel really is ugly.  All 1940s mobster with a stupid bowler hat and beady eyes, mouth turned down under a ratty handlebar mustache, “Has the autopsy come back yet?”

“They’re finishing up the toxicology report,” Spot says, “S’taking a little longer than usual, ‘cause Mush suspects something mighta been up with the vic’s blood.”

“Poison?”

“Maybe,” Spot shrugs and pours himself more coffee.  Albert eyes him, wondering how many cups he’s had today and vacantly wondering if Spot would be off put by him taking the pot and drinking directly from it.

“Has the wait staff at Gianno’s been questioned yet?”

“Mostly,” Spot answers.  The look in his eye tells Albert that he’s about to drop something pivotal.

He cocks his head, “Mostly?”

“One waiter went home right before the murder occured.  Claimed a migraine.”

Albert’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline.  Now that is interesting, “And nobody fucking thought to bring this guy in?”

XXX

The waiter- Antonio Higgins, according to the file Katherine handed off to Albert and Spot- lives in an older looking apartment complex a few blocks down from Gianno’s.  Despite the slightly dilapidated exterior, the place has a pleasant enough, homey sort of vibe.  The vague smell of pasta sauce wafts through the air, assaulting their nostrils the moment they step into the building.  Distinct Italian villa music plays in soft undertones through the lobby and the walls are adorned with various renaissance-era paintings.  

Albert and Spot exchange a short glance, raising their eyebrows slightly before approaching the front desk.  The lady behind the counter is a stout, but demanding woman, her eyes lined with harsh black rouge and hand gesturing wildly as she speaks on the phone in rapid fire Italian.  A quick glance towards her name tag tells Albert that her name is Maria, which fits her whole Italian mother look.  Albert watches, bemused, as she looks at them inquisitively, then at the badges on their shirts and rolls her eyes, firing off a few more sentences into the receiver before hanging up the landline and placing it back on its phone stand.  

“Yes, hello officers, how may I help you?” Her heavily accented voice is tinged with annoyance and Albert sees Spot shoot him another glance in his peripheral.

Inwardly, Albert sighs.  He’s never understood why people can’t just be cooperative.

“Hi, ma’am, sorry for the inconvenience,” He trains his voice into something resembling empathy and plasters his most charming smile onto his face.  She doesn’t look amused, “I’m Detective DaSilva and this is my partner, Detective Conlon.  We’re here from the 17th precinct investigating a case regarding the tragedy that occurred over in Gianno’s earlier today and one of the waitstaff there, Antonio Higgins, lives here in your building.  We’ve got a few questions for him, so if you could do us the courtesy of buzzing us up to his room, that would be greatly appreciated.”

Maria’s eyes widen and when she speaks, the previous irritation is absent, “Tonio?  Is he in trouble?  That boy is the sweetest thing, so helpful.  There’s no way he could be who you are looking for.”

Albert tries to soften his expression, “He’s in no trouble yet, ma’am, I assure you.  We’re just following protocol and questioning all employees at Gianno’s.  He went home a little before the incident occurred, so we were not able to question him with the rest of the waitstaff.”

Maria looks a little relieved at this, but her sternness is back when she says, “Alright, I will buzz you up, but don’t do anything to hurt my dear Tonio.  He’s had a tough year and I’d hate for some pish posh detectives to upset him further.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Spot says, amicably.  

Maria picks up the phone again, presumably to call Higgins’ room and Spot looks at Albert, mouthing, ‘tough year?’  Albert shrugs and shakes his head, turning back to Maria as she hangs up the phone with a friendly, “Si, si, abbi cura, tesoro.”

“Okay,” She says dismissively, waving her hand as she picks up a pen and starts scribbling on some papers, “You can go up.  Elevators are around the corner.  Tonio lives on the 7th floor, room 712B.”

They thank her and head towards the elevators, relieved to find the one that picks them up to be empty.  

“I wonder what this Higgins dude’s been through for the fuckin’ receptionist to be that protective,” Spot says, pressing the button for the seventh floor and wincing when the elevator groans as it begins to ascend.

“Yeah, me too,” Albert agrees, “Sounded kind of cryptic, too.  Hope he’s in a good enough headspace to be helpful.”

And it’s true.  The more fucked up the suspect, the less willing they are to talk.  Vexation is one of the many banes of Albert’s existence.  They arrive at the floor and find room 712B at the end of the hallway.  Spot knocks and in less time than they anticipated, the door swings open to reveal a tired looking man.  He’s a bit taller than either of them with curly blond hair that sits like a mop on top of his head.  His blue eyes are accentuated by the bruise-like bags that sit underneath and the pallor of his skin makes it look like he’s sick; or was sick.  With a wince, Albert remembers that this guy had supposedly gone home with a migraine earlier.  

“Officers,” The man- Antonio- greets tiredly.  He looks bored at their presence and leans his shoulder casually on the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  His grey t-shirt stretches obscenely over well-muscled arms and Albert swallows.  Spot snorts next to him.

Recovering, Albert flashes him a quick smile, “Antonio, right?  I’m Detective Dasilva and this is my partner, Detective Conlon.  I’m assuming you’re aware of the incident that occurred over at Gianno’s earlier today?”

Antonio’s bored expression doesn’t waver, but when he sighs, it sounds shaky, “‘Course I heard.  Business is about to go to shit ‘cause of it, too.  No one’s gonna wanna come to a murder scene to eat, so bye-bye good paychecks.”

“Right, I apologise for that,” Albert continues, “But we’ve gotta ask you a few questions regarding the case.”

Antonio’s eyebrows shoot up, “Am I a suspect?”

“Everyone’s a suspect until we find the culprit,” Spot says evenly.

“Right…” Antonio sighs again, “Okay, come in I guess.”  

He opens the door wider to allow them to enter and turns to walk into the apartment, flicking on a few lights along the way.  Albert follows him, noting how excessively clean the apartment is as he makes his way to the kitchen where Antonio is opening a pill bottle and throwing back a few pills, washing them down with what Albert assumes is coffee.  Spot joins him in the mouth of the kitchen, looking as hesitant as Albert feels.  Antonio looks at them, lips quirking upwards into something like a smirk.

“Want anything to drink?” He offers, “I’ve got water, coffee, milk...if you’re weird like that.”

“We’re good, thank you,” Spot declines, stepping further into the kitchen and leaning against one of the counters.  

Albert follows suit, noting with a frown that everything here is impeccably organized as well.  A neat row of cookbooks are pressed against the fridge, descending in order from thickest to thinnest.  The counters are bare and shiny, boasting no crumbs or residue.  Kitchen appliances line the walls neatly, also showing barely any sign of use.  Albert suspects if they opened up the fridge and the cabinets, they’d find neatly stacked dishes and immaculately organized silverware.  

Antonio shrugs, sipping again from his coffee mug, “Suit yourself.”

“Okay,” Spot pulls out his pocket notebook, flipping it open to a blank page and clicking his pen against his chest, “So you claimed to have gone home around 12:20 with a migraine.  Did you take any detours on the way home?”

Antonio’s jaw clenches, “Well, seeing as my head was trying to kill me from the inside out, I wasn’t very keen on going window shopping, so…”

Albert hears Spot blow out a breath through his nose, “I need a direct answer here, sir, if you could please.”

Antonio rolls his eyes, “Yes, I came straight home.”

Undeterred, Spot plows on, “Did you have any connections to the victim, Frank Wiesel?  Was he a regular customer that you knew of?  Anything of that sort?”

“Fuckin’ Weasel was the one to get his ass smoked?” Antonio says, nostrils flaring.

“So you did know the victim,” Albert says.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ knew him.  Worked with my Pa for a while, before leaving him in the dust to go work for some hotshot newspaper.  Asshole if I ever knew him,” Antonio shakes his head, laughing dryly, “‘Bout time he met his maker.”

“Okay, don’t say that to any officer about a murder vic,” Albert admonishes, “And you said he worked with your dad?  What did they do together?”

Antonio shifts, suddenly looking uncomfortable, “I don’t really know, but my Pa never liked him much.  Always complained about how he was tryna ‘do him in for a big one’ whatever that means.  I think it had something to do with accounting, but I’m not entirely certain.”

Spot’s nodding, scribbling rapidly in his notebook, “You met him, yes?”

“Few times,” Antonio says, “ornery fucker.  Homophobic, too.  That was the only front he and my Pa ever agreed on it seemed.  Which worked wonderfully in my favor.”  He says that last part sarcastically and Albert sends a brief look to Spot who grimaces.

“Where’s your dad now?” Albert asks.  The situation Antonio’s painted for his involvement with Wiesel sounds like a breeding ground for motives- if not from him directly, then his father.

“Dead,” Antonio smiles bitterly, “Was fighting cancer for a while and finally kicked the can ‘bout three months ago.”

There’s a tense pause and Spot clears his throat, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Antonio snorts and Albert senses his frustration building.

“And you were here, in this apartment building, when the murder occurred say around...12:50?”

Antonio blinks, “I already told you I came straight home,” he pauses, “I didn’t fuckin’ kill Weasel.”

“We’re not saying-”

Antonio scoffs, “Kind of sounds like you are.  We done here?  ‘Cause as you seemed to know, I went home because of a migraine, which is still fucking me up.  So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Yes, my apologies,” Albert says, sensing that they weren’t going to get anything else out of this visit.  He nudges Spot, beginning to back out of the kitchen.  Antonio follows them to the door, watching warily as they step out, “Thank you for your time.  I appreciate your cooperation.  We’ll probably be back sometime this week for a few follow up questions.”

Antonio wrinkles his nose, “Wonderful.”

The door shuts with a resounding click and Albert and Spot stare at it for a long moment.

“Well…” Spot starts.

“Yeah,” Albert says, “There’s some digging to do here.”

“Sure is.”

They begin to retreat back towards the elevators.

“You gotta be careful, though.” Spot says, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

“About what?” 

“You were totally hot for him.”

Albert thunks his head against the elevator wall, groaning, “Man, shut up.”

Spot just laughs.

-

i actually know where this one is heading plot wise, so...,.,

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x05 Halloween Special (part 2 of part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – The Salvatore house, the twin’s bedroom, 7am. Alaric and Caroline come in, dressed in costumes.

 ALARIC & CAROLINE: Happy Halloween!!! (They realize the girls are not in their beds) Girls? (No answer) Girls?! (Caroline hears noises coming from the bathroom).

CAROLINE: I think they are in the bathroom… (they walk in and find the girls in front of the mirror).

LIZ & JOSIE: Candyman… Candyman… Candyman… Candyman…Candy…

CAROLINE: Girls! What are you doing?

LIZZY: Summoning the Candyman…

JOSIE: We want candy!

CAROLINE: Summoning who, what now?

ALARIC: (To Caroline) It’s just a silly urban legend… don’t worry about it. (To the girls) Okay, girls, if you want candy, you better put on some slippers and get your butts downstairs.

CAROLINE: But breakfast first! Uncle Damon is making vamp-cakes for everyone, which is an event on its own. So, come on, hurry up, and get your robes and slippers on. (They leave, the mirror breaks...).

Cut to – Salvatore kitchen. Damon is making vamp-cakes. Bonnie walks in.

BONNIE: Yum, looking and smelling great, as usual…

DAMON: (Teasing, referring to himself) Thank you, Bon-Bon (smirk).

BONNIE: Gotta say, this is really nice of you, Damon.

DAMON: Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I had to find a way to entertain myself. (Stefan walks in).

STEFAN: (Looking at Damon cooking with disbelief) I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook… 

DAMON: I’m full of surprises, little brother. 

STEFAN: (To Bonnie) You sure these are safe to eat, Bon?

BONNIE: Not sure if they are safe but, trust me, it’s worth the risk. (Katherine walks in, grabs herself a spoon and dips into the batter).

KATHERINE: Not too bad, Damon. (Looks at Damon and Bonnie as she is licking the spoon) So, did you two end-up…well, you know… 

Honestly, it was about time, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife! I have to admit, it’s kind of hot…. (winks at both).

BONNIE: Oh, god! Can you please just take one of your magic pills and shut up.

KATHERINE: (Sarcastically) Whatever rocks your boat… Bon-Bon (smirks).

STEFAN: (To Damon) What is she talking about?

DAMON: She’s crazy and probably drunk. (Alaric, Caroline, and the girls come in).

THE TWINS: (They run to hug Bonnie) Aunt Bonnie!

BONNIE: Good morning, pretty ladies! Want some vamp-cakes?

TWINS: Yesss!!!

BONNIE: They are uncle Damon’s specialty…

DAMON: Oh, you know it, munchkins! (Hands the girls their vamp-cake plates).

STEFAN: (Side conversation with Caroline) So, do you know what happened with those two?

CAROLINE: No, wait, what?! Oh my god, did it finally happen?

STEFAN: Well, for some reason Katherine seems to think so…

CAROLINE: Bonnie Sheila Bennet, can I have a word with you?

BONNIE: Oh, great, what did I do this time? (They go into the living room).

CAROLINE: So, is there something you want to tell me?

BONNIE: Not particularly…

CAROLINE: Oh, come on, Bonnie, spill! Why does Katherine think you and Damon…

BONNIE: Cause she’s delusional. Nothing happened; after you and Stefan went to bed we stayed for a while longer, had some good laughs, that’s all.

CAROLINE: Bonnie, I don’t get it, why won’t you let it happen? It’s obvious your relationship has gone way passed platonic. You know it, he knows it, we all know it, why won’t you give it a chance?

BONNIE: Fine, I’ll tell you, cause if I don’t you’ll never drop this. Care, he is one of my best friends, who also, in case you forgot, used to be one of my other best friends loves of her life. So, I think you know why…

CAROLINE: Bonnie, Elena has moved on, and so has he. Let’s be honest, we all knew it wasn’t meant to be, so there is nothing wrong with allowing yourself to feel what you feel, and letting him feel what he feels… I’ve never seen you this happy since…

BONNIE: Don’t go there.

CAROLINE: Bonnie, it’s okay to talk about it, it’s not healthy keeping everything to yourself… that’s what friends are for. I understand you, I went through it with Stefan…

BONNIE: (Upset) And now he is back, so I guess it worked out for you…

CAROLINE: Yes, thanks to you, Bonnie… but I need to know that it wasn’t despite you…

BONNIE: Of course not, that had nothing to do with it. I really am happy Stefan is back, he deserves a second chance, and so do you.

CAROLINE: Not more than you and Enzo… So, Bonnie, talk to me… what’s the real reason he didn’t come back?

BONNIE: Trust me, I tried… he was the first person on my mind, but he never showed up…

CAROLINE: (Hugs her) Oh, Bonnie, why didn’t you tell me? You said he found peace.

BONNIE: That’s what I like to think, but I have no idea…

CAROLINE: Bonnie, I’m so sorry… I didn’t…I

BONNIE: It’s okay, Caroline. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s fine, he’s a fighter.

CAROLINE: He is... and I’m sure he’d want nothing more than to see you happy.

BONNIE: I know.

CAROLINE: Listen, whatever you decide to do, the only thing that matters is that you are happy. So, I’ll stop pushing, but promise me that you will at least give it a though.

BONNIE: If that will make you stop, I promise.

CAROLINE: Good, now let’s go back before they finish all the vamp-cakes. (They go back to the kitchen, she waves away a couple of bees). Wow, what's with the bees?

ALARIC: Must be the honey...

 Cut to – 1921, Halloween Ball at a secluded hotel in the Rocky Mountains. A beautiful lady arrives at the hotel reception. 

The bellboy hands her a black box and a room key. 

BELLBOY: Welcome back, Madame, it’s a pleasure to have you with us again.

The lady winks at the bellboy and sends him a kiss. She walks into the ballroom. A man is sitting at the bar, she sits beside him.

 LADY: Care to share a drink?

GENTLEMAN: Would be delighted.

LADY: What’s your poison?

GENTLEMAN: Bourbon, neat.

LADY: My kind of man. (To the waiter) Two bourbons, neat. So, what brings you here? Are you friends with the Mayor?

GENTLEMAN: Not really, I only got invited because of a mutual friend.

LADY: And who might that friend be?

GENTLEMAN: Stefan Salvatore, do you know him?

LADY: I do, quite the mystery man, I met him through a mutual friend, Klaus Mikaelson. 

GENTLEMAN: Ah yes, the infamous Klaus. Funny that we both know them...

LADY: Small world, I guess.

GENTLEMAN: Well, here we are conversing about our mutual friendships and I don’t even know your name…

LADY: Adds to the mystery. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you call me whatever you want to call me, and I’ll call you… Mr. Candyman, after all, you sure are candy to my eyes (winks).

GENTLEMAN: Well, I am a sucker for good mysteries, so I’ll play. Lovely to meet your acquaintance, Madame Noir (kisses her hand).

LADY: Madame Noir, ha? … I like it. Now, how about we skip the entree and go straight for dessert? (Hands him a room key with the letter “L” engraved on it and a room tag, 237).

GENTLEMAN: Mysterious and to the point, you must be the perfect woman.

LADY: I must be …(winks) Listen, Mr. Candyman, let me go freshen up, meet me in the room at midnight, on the dot.

GENTLEMAN: I’ll be counting the minutes…

LADY: Trust me, it will be worth it. (Lady kisses him on the cheek and leaves. At exactly 12am the man arrives at the bedroom door, he inserts the key, turns the door nob and slowly opens the door...music starts playing...).

Cut to- The Mayor’s house. Edward is having breakfast in the patio, Matt arrives.

 EDWARD: Sheriff, I’m glad you stopped by… Would you like some breakfast?

MATT: No thanks, I’m not hungry.

EDWARD: At least join me with a cup of tea.

MATT: I’ll take some coffee if you have some.

EDWARD: Of course. Anthony, can you please serve the Sheriff a cup of coffee. So, what are plans for today?

MATT: Nothing big, just a small gathering with my friends.

EDWARD: I’m glad, you can use some time to unwind and enjoy yourself. You are more than welcome to attend my Halloween Ball.

MATT: Thank you, but I really can’t, my friend has been planning this for some time so she would kill me if I bailed on her.

EDWARD: You can bring your friends along. Trust me, the food and drinks will be worth it.

MATT: I’m sure they will, but I really can’t.

EDWARD: I understand.

MATT: Listen, I’m worried, it’s been a few days since I gave the black box to Darius and nothing…

EDWARD: Sheriff, do you trust me?

MATT: I’d like to…

EDWARD: Then, please, don’t worry, I am a man of my word. Enjoy the night with your friends and we will deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

MATT: Fine, I trust you know what you are doing.

EDWARD: I do. So, what will you be playing tonight?

MATT: What?

EDWARD: Your costume, Sheriff, what is it?

MATT: Oh… myself with some make-up injuries so Caroline doesn’t give me crap about not trying hard enough.

EDWARD: So, like a zombie version of yourself?

MATT: Guess you can say that. Well, I should head out now.

EDWARD: Are you sure you and your friends don’t want to come tonight?

MATT: We really can’t but thank you for the invite.

EDWARD: Anytime. Well, I do hope you enjoy yourself, Sheriff, you deserve it.

MATT: I will. I’ll keep you posted should there be any movement on the Darius front.

EDWARD: As will I. (As Matt is walking away) Oh and Sheriff, (Matt turns around) Happy Halloween...

TVD 9x05 Halloween Special part 2, coming soon! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

[self-shipper-snowdrop]

Selftober Day 29; Gift

“Uh… Ranpo, what the heck is this?”

“Oh, nothing! I don’t know what you mean!”

“…If you wanted to give me a gift, you could have just handed it to me…”

This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever drawn, but I couldn’t get the idea of Ranpo giving me a gift in the most rediculous way possible out of my head. Don’t ask me about the broken physics of that stick, there are none

He does this to cheer me up on bad days since he knows the ridiculousness distracts me-

[strikertheblackdog-blog]

Striker

The Basics:

Name: Striker Age: Unknown Place of birth: Unknown Current location: Folie a deux  Species: Black Dog (guardian type) Powers: Stronger and faster than an average human, better senses (sight, smell, hearing), can shift into a huge black dog at will (unaffected by the moon) Skills: Tracking (even when not shifted), hand-to-hand combat, singing

Physical Appearance:

Eye colour: Blue (human form), red (dog form)

Hair style/colour: Black, longish and sort of disheveled (human form), black, thick, roughly the same length as a Golden Retriever (dog form)

Build: Lean but muscular (human form), big, bulky muscles (dog form)

Usual level of grooming: Somewhat untidy but clean

How he walks: Lazy sort of stroll in human form, confidently in dog form

Distinguishing features (tattoos, scars, birthmarks): A few scars from normal wear and tear: one on his shoulder about 2″ in length from a sharp tree branch, on his left calf there are 5 small puncture scars from being bitten by a wolf during a fight. No tattoos. No birthmarks, only a few freckles here and there in his human form.

Preferred outfit: Jeans, black t-shirt, work boots

Glasses/contacts: none.

Any accessories that are ALWAYS associated with him (cane, pipe, necklace, etc.): Silver lighter with intricate engraving though he doesn’t smoke

Distinguishing “tics” or mannerisms: He likes to roll his knuckles along the wall/fence/whatever is next to him as he walks. 

General health: Good health, no issues

Handwriting: Sloppy, barely legible

Speech and Communication

How he talks: Quickly

Style of speech: Average, sometimes a smattering of Scottish slang or different languages thrown in

Accent: Scottish

Posture: Relaxed and casual, usually crosses arms over his chest

Gesturing: Only when agitated or eager

Eye contact: Direct

Preferred curse word: Fuck (it’s very versatile)

Catchphrase: For fuck’s sake

Speech impediments: None

Distinguishing speech “tics”: May pause while he collects his thoughts

What's his laugh like? What does he tend to find funny? Loud, boisterous laugh unless he’s being a little shite about something in which case it’s an evil little chuckle. He finds most things funny, especially when people (read: Vihaan) get pissy about stupid, unimportant things

Describe his smile: (Okay, it’s Sebastian Stan.. it’s radiant and the loveliest of lovely smiles that warms the hearts of even the most dickish of dragons!)

How emotive are they? Do they wear their emotions on their sleeve? How easily can others to read them? Very emotive, his face doesn’t really have a filter unless he’s very focused on hiding what he’s feeling, it’s very difficult for him to do. Others can usually read him quite well.

He has a resting ANGEL face.

Some general stuff:

I wrote a more detailed bio for Striker here but here’s some tl;dr points: 

Black Dog shifter that used to guide and guard travellers in the Ballyboley Forest

Saw “something” in Vihaan and decided to pursue him

They were together a long time (you can see the wanted connection info here

Striker was an idiot and left, faking his death which affected Vihaan more than he knows/understands (it affected HIM more than he knows/understands)

After faking his death, he wandered around in the wilderness for a while in his dog form, eventually being tracked and trapped by scouts for the city who think he has some way to predict/see upcoming deaths, which he doesn’t

Possible Interactions:

I mean there’s gonna be angst with Vihaan like no bodies business... and some shit with Citali because of course but here are some things I’d love: 

Mentor: Someone older or wiser than he is. He’s got his head on straight most of the time but he’s been known to make stupid decisions

Drinking buddy: It takes a lot to get Striker drunk with his abilities mucking things up and he doesn’t do it often because of this but a friend to drink with and shoot the shit with would be amazing. You know... deep drunk convos at the bar or laying on the hood of the car staring at the stars...

Friends with benefits: Because of course? Striker’s gay, sorry ladies!

Housemates: Other rescues who don’t have a sponsor yet

Mix ‘n match: Anything you can think of really. Striker’s a sweetie, you won’t regret making friends with him (just don’t ask Vihaan’s opinion on this point...)

This Or That

hot weather or cold weather | one - piece or two - piece bathing suits | crunchy or soft foods | scary movies or light - hearted movies | coffee or tea or neither | tattoos or piercings or neither | early mornings or late nights | fruits or vegetables | tv shows or movies | pie or cake | sunrises or sunsets | gardening or baking | busy cities or calm countrysides | ice cream or frozen yogurt | breakfast or lunch or dinner | pastel colours or dark colours | hugs or kisses or secret hand shakes | romantic love or platonic love | sweet candy or sour candy or chocolate | fresh juice or boxed juice | long sleeves or short sleeves | pancakes or waffles | social media : love it or hate it

Personality Quizzes

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good Hogwarts House: Gryffindor Seven Deadly Sins:

Greed: Very Low

Gluttony: Low

Wrath: High

Sloth: Very Low

Envy: Very Low

Lust: Very High

Pride: Very Low

Colour Quiz:

You are a Red/Green Planeswalker. Striker, your scores are... | White: 29 | Blue: 34 | Black: 39 | Red: 75 | Green: 50 |

A Red/Green Planeswalker asks the question where am I now, and where should I go? Red and green both agree on the importance of authenticity. Green, from a place of wildness and immediacy, and red from a place of passion and self actualization. A real life activity that embodies red/green is Circling (à la the Authentic Relating community), which in part emphasizes setting aside narratives and frames and just being present, in the moment, with yourself and other people. Dionysian archetypes are red/green, as is Tinkerbell and the Hulk, and the parts of Wolverine that aren't green are usually red. On the gentler side of things, Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender is firmly red/green and is often torn between his innate red playfulness and the gravity and responsibility required of his green role and destiny.

Red wants freedom.

Everyone seems preoccupied with the meaning of life. Red's not, because red already knows the answer. You see, your heart tells you what it needs in order to be fulfilled. All you have to do is listen to it and act accordingly. It's not a mystery. You are literally bombarded with constant feelings that guide you down the correct path. The problem is all the other colors ignore the message.

To outsiders, red might seem a bit chaotic; but that's only because others can't see what's in red's heart. They cannot feel red's emotions guiding them. Living life to its fullest takes a lot of dedication and perseverance, but red is always up to the task.

Green wants harmony.

The other colors are all focused on how they'd change the world to make it better. Green is the one color that doesn't want to change the world, because green is convinced that the world already got everything right. The natural order is a thing of beauty and has all the answers to life's problems. The key is learning to sit back and recognize what is right in front of you.

== Results from bdsmtest.org == 100% Rope bunny 98% Primal (Prey) 93% Submissive 75% Pet 67% Voyeur 65% Exhibitionist 60% Vanilla 59% Brat 58% Experimentalist 41% Masochist 14% Non-monogamist 10% Boy/Girl 4% Ageplayer 1% Switch 1% Degradee 1% Slave

PLACE IN SOCIETY financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty / depends on who’s asking medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged. class: upper / middle / working / slave / unsure / unknown education: qualified / unqualified / studying criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no

FAMILY married - happily / married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / open / single / divorced / separated / verse dependent has a child or children / has no children / wants children / verse dependent close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings (prolly) / sibling(s) is deceased orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / other

TRAITS + TENDENCIES extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathetic / unemphatic / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between cultured / un-cultured / in between / unknown loyal / disloyal / unknown faithful / unfaithful / unknown

BELIEFS monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic / other belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in an afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care. belief in reincarnation: yes / no /don’t know / don’t care. belief in aliens: yes  / no / don’t know / don’t care. religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious / other philosophical: yes / no / maybe

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION heterosexual / homosexual /bisexual / demisexual / asexual / pansexual sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable. (slightly) romance repulsed /romance neutral / romance favourable. sexually: adventurous /experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious. potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

ABILITIES combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none. literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none. 

HABITS drinking alcohol: never / sometimes/ frequently / to excess. smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. medicinal drugs: never / sometimes  / frequently / to excess. indulgent food: never / sometimes /frequently / to excess. splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[thebeauregardbros]

character development meme???

we can call it that i guess alus~

[blank template here]

- Basic Information -

-How old are they? Do they look their age?

Since he is an orphan, it is unknown. By estimate by both his appearance and how small he was when he was adopted, he is thought to around 22~24 years old.

-What is their gender identity? (optional: what is their physical sex?)

Male for both. He’s confident enough in his identity that he’ll happily wear dresses and high heels and flaunt his feminine interests openly, but feels uncomfortable if people actually believe him to be female, or try to project an image onto him as being frail or fragile - mostly because it’s just not true.

-What is their race? Do they follow in the footsteps of their ancestry with respect? Do they even care about it at all?

Alus is a Miqo’te of what appears to be sunseeker descent, but he really could care less about his blood lineage. He respectfully thinks of himself as an Elezen because that’s who raised him. He doesn’t know much about his real lineage at all and he’s pretty at peace with that.

-How do they make money? (What’s their occupation?)

Two thirds military duty, one third cafe ownership. He also gambles a bit on the side (generally successfully) to the point that he has regularly owns a bit of an excess of coin. He tends to spend that excess rather quickly though as he has a tendency to be rather generous with tipping and giving beggars charity... and well, really loves clothes and stuff to spruce up his cafe with.

- Speech Patterns -

-How do they generally speak about themselves or refer to themselves in conversation?

Alus surprisingly actually doesn’t talk about himself often despite acting rather narcissistic, albeit in an exaggerated and goofy way that others could perceive as self-aware. If he does gives information about himself it tends to be rather surface area information about his cafe or fashion tastes. You may actually find him talking about his brother more than himself! To people he’s comfortable with, he might allow them to explore philosophical questions with him that trouble him, exposing a more serious side of his that may seem uncharacteristic to others.

-How do they tend to address others? Family, friends, coworkers, strangers, enemies, etc.

To those he admires (usually fancy ladies and elegant male elezen), he is a complete mess of stammering and gibberish. If he somehow manages to speak clearly, he compliments; and oft times those may be perceived as a bit ‘too much’; confessing his love for others he’s only just met (though he usually means it platonically), praising the little he knows about them endlessly and inadvertently derailing any preexisting situation/conversation. 

To those he feels more lukewarm towards, he just tends to be very polite and open minded even at the most outrageous and criminal things he hears, and willing to repay their words with deep personal thoughts of his own - always overall positive. 

To those he considers enemies, (or more specifically those who he considers an immediate threat to the safety of others,) he’ll become self-righteous and very quickly impatient towards them. He’ll start off questioning your uncouth behaviour, wondering if it’s possible he’s just misinterpreting it - then he will patiently remind you that that is not gentlemanly/lady-like behaviour. Then he’ll start becoming passive-aggressive as all hell - still with a polite smile on his face, but eyebrows furrowing more and more. The second you hear him audibly say an actual swear word at a normal speaking volume is when you should be terrified. Shortly after his formal speech and eerie smile may actually continue, but he will speak bluntly of his feelings. Something along the line of “If it were not for my worth as a gentleman, I would have happily smashed your face in by this time.” If someone isn’t literally holding him back by shortly after then, he will act out in violence to forcefully stop your behaviour. Don’t worry though, he won’t kill you or otherwise permanently injure you if he can help it, and afterwords he will actually willfully forgive you -- that is, only if you act like a proper gentleman/lady like he’s been imploring you to be this entire godsdamned time. 

To his brother, it’s a combo of the latter two; He is very openly critical of his bad behaviors, but also very supportive and admiring of him. If Alus hears of anyone badmouthing his brother, he will be there in full fledged defense and won’t back down until he implores them to either change their mind or generally stop being so negative. Because they are brothers, however, Alus may not talk about his personal feelings much with him much (he feels a bit awkward being mushy with him), but he still trusts him more than anyone.

-Do they have any strong opinions about certain groups? Political, religious, independent or otherwise, even very small.

Alus tends to dislike all politics. Even politics that seem to have wholly good intentions, he is extremely wary of them turning out wrong in the end - he’s seen betrayal and deceit happen far too many times to still be optimistic in such matters. He views more organized religions to be not too different than politics, particularly the church that worships Halone - a deity he finds no comfort in her representation of War. He finds himself picking and choosing what he believes in now more than he used to - he thinks of religion as a very personal thing and doesn’t care much for hearing others’ opinions on his favorite deities beyond those he can trust in his view to be good people.

- Personal History -

-How skilled are they in combat?

Alus’ greatest weaponized combat skill is in using a large shield to bash, overwhelm, and pacify. Though he has learned some basic one-handed sword skills for his qualification as a Free Paladin, if he had to choose to fight, his preferred offensive style it would be that of the fists. He believes that it is the most honorable way to fight somebody if at all - oftentimes risking his own hands in doing so. As of this time he knows a lot of mixed martial arts but hasn’t landed on one certain style of fighting to dedicate himself to. (At some point I’m gonna IC try to find someone who’ll teach him Brazilian capoeira. not even sure how the heck that’d fit into Hydaelyn lore??? help) Alus is also grand at the swift skills of dancing - he is surprisingly light on his feet and very deft, making dodging and fancy footwork in battle a piece of cake for him.

For non-physical skills, Alus is a skilled field medic above all else. He is knowledgeable of a wide variety of herbs and potions, well experienced in conjury and even versed in some obscure Sharlayan astrology that heals - he’s tried his best to become attuned with anything that has to do with healing he can find. He wants to save everybody. He does not believe in fighting at all, despite it being a job he begrudgingly takes.

-Any non-combative skills?

Having grown up on the street & the road, Alus became a skilled street dancer with his brother when they were young for the purpose for some extra pocket money. As they grew older, Alus’ passion for dancing never really wavered. His favorite type of dancing is ballroom dancing, but he hardly ever has the chance to dance with a partner.

Alus knows how to brew tea pretty well. Not an expert, but knows more than most people. He can cook a little too! .. mostly just pastries and stovetop breakfasts, though.

He knows when to stop when it comes to gambling.

Can play the piano! Nothing expert or incredible, but good enough for the simple soft songs he adores.

-Anything they’re really bad at?

He can’t sing, good lord, he cannot sing. He’s absolutely tone deaf, and he screeches at random?? it’s so bad. (secretly he’s amazing at screamo, and he’ll probably never discover this)

Sex jokes go MILES over his head. Actually, a lot of common informal speech stuff goes over his head. He’s absolutely the type of guy to answer without hesitation “What is updog?”

Oh yeah, he’s also really bad at solving even simple mysteries. His imagination tends to be too overblown and romantic that he keeps thinking ‘It can’t be that simple or mundane!’

spEAKING TO PRETTY PEOPL E

-What would you call their personal aesthetic to be like?

Fashion wise I’d call it ‘shiro aristocrat’. White clothes with a very classy and royal, princely feeling, but more mature than ‘ouji’ Japanese fashions (pressed long slacks instead of poofy shorts). He adores flower motifs, and wears as many live and fake flowers at all times as he can manage (especially gardenia and white lilies). He adores suits, the ‘gentlemanly’ aesthetic, and .. Well, hell, he’s basically a shoujo prince. He’s got a white horse and long blonde hair and everything. He knows this and adores it. His style is overall masculine and suave but also soft and feminine. He loves bright happy colors and white, he feels they bring good feelings into the hearts of people who see them.

-What kinds of cuisine do they like and dislike?

His favorite food is La Noscean Toast, his favorite morning drink is Triple Cream Coffee, and his favorite dessert is... constantly changing! (his ‘dessert snack’ choice is an orange lmao)

He’s got a raging sweet tooth he has to keep under lock and bar - a huge passion for fluffy pastries and citrus-y candy. (Not so much for dark, heavy, bitter chocolate!)

Alus is a bit of a picky eater on his own! He tends to generally dislike any heavy meals (for example; deep-fried and/or heavily cheesy stuff OH THE HUMANITY). He’s slow to try foreign foods or new food in general (tho he does love rice) - I feel like he’s the type of guy who organizes a menu that’s well balanced for health and sticks to it his whole life whether he particularly liked how bland it tasted at first or not. He doesn’t eat meat so he balances his protein intake with tons vegetarian alternatives of of nuts, yogurt, eggs, tofu, seeds, etc.

If you cook him a meat dish, he’ll go to insane lengths to make sure it’s not wasted - looking for the nearest homeless person, anyone, to enjoy the meal. Besides meat dishes, he’ll absolutely eat anything you prepare for him though because he’s far too polite to tell you you wasted all that energy for such a nice gift for him! Always the optimist, he’ll probably try to convince himself by muttering “this is probably good for me in... some way..” lmao

-What about alcohol?

He’s fiercely against alcohol - really wants nothing to do with it, thinks it’s the poisoning of the body and super unclassy for your image and harmful to your spiritual growth and blah blah blah .. But he has absolutely drank a spiked punch on accident on more than a few times. The only way to make Alus consume alcohol is if it’s sweet enough that he can’t tell it’s alcohol. While intoxicated, Alus becomes much more like his brother - blunt, straightforward with his feelings, using informal speech, even saying some straight-up swear words without hesitation - but he’s also very confident and happy in the sort of ‘playful-fighting frat bro that loves you’ sort of way. During and after intoxication, he refuses to vocally admit he was/is under the influence of alcohol. It seems like he genuinely doesn’t know/remember it, but it could be that he was/is just embarrassed.

-When it comes to love and romance…

Alus is wholly inexperienced, doesn’t really understand the difference between platonic and romantic love. He believes in his heart that everyone is a good person, and in that, he universally loves and appreciates everyone in their own way and will say this out loud bluntly & relentlessly. He’s very ‘innocent & pure’ in the sense that he doesn’t even really think about kissing someone’s lips until he’s made the decision to someday marry them (which he would most likely do without knowing them too well!). When it comes to physical flirting, Alus’ brain just kinda breaks. He’s totally confused and shocked at himself for thinking of such sinful thoughts!.. when all he’s really thinking about his touching their hand or something LMAO. Overall, he really just over-romanticizes close relationships in a manner of good old fashioned lovely gentleman & lady courting, and doesn’t dare think of anything further without a straightforward consent from his partner.

-How do they feel about sex?

I should disclaim that despite Alus’ views on romantic relationships, he’s is definitely not too innocent to know how people do it, and it’s not like he’s thought about doing it himself, but his general feelings towards the subject is “don’t ask, don’t tell” and “it’s none of my business or concern!” For other parties’ sexuality, he doesn’t really approve of revealing clothing or outwardly sexual behaviour in public, but as long as it’s in the name of love and respect (whether for yourself or with someone you care for) he still supports it wholeheartedly - but will probably just try change the subject anyway. For himself, he feels really uncomfortable with anyone making physical contact with him or seeing him underneath his clothes, whether the context is casual or flirtatious. When dealing with someone he likes but whom he isn’t in an official relationship with, his brain just 404s in embarrassment when it comes to sexual stuff and he doesn’t really know what to do. Giving straightforward consent to him, however, and I feel like he’ll be a lot more forward in touching you than you’d expect. He’ll always be respectful though and stop when you tell him to.

THAT BEING SAID as a writer I actually regard Alus as asexual. I think he regards sex as an act of the symbolism of love more than an act of pleasure. He’s never really been told about asexuality before and even if he was it’d probably take him more experience to fully realize for certain he’s ace.

- Personality -

-Come up with three key words to describe this character.

Gentleman, goofy, heartache.