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hauntedtotem · 5 months

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Doppelgangers mimic, it's in their blood, their instincts. They observe and copy, they peak into the lives of the unsuspecting and devour what they can, in every sense of the word.

It's necessary for their survival, to learn every detail of ones features. The better evolved members of their kind learn to perfectly imitate speech patterns and body language as well, leaving nothing out. Perfection is key, and a deep intricate understanding of their prey is what they strive for.

They pride themselves on their ability to reflect humanities ego back at them.

Some understand too well, and look deeper than what's necessary. Their human-counterparts oft hold secrets buried within, secrets they show no one, and yet the doppelgangers that select them seem to enjoy shouting such things out into the world for all to see.

Showing off what they've found, what was previously being hidden away from public eye.

A pilot who's mind races with endless possibilities and visions of death, who's witnessed carnage both of reality and illusion. Behind a stone faced facade and obscuring shades, paranoia clutches the mind and eyes dart nervously towards every shadow. The constant nagging of adrenaline and panic being held trapped behind an un-moving mask. An all consuming mind, seeing danger at every corner, only ever knowing peace while in the emptiness of the skies.

A woman who wills herself to be blind to her harsh reality. Portraying herself with an energetic and bubbly attitude, while miserable inside, refusing to speak of her past. Silencing herself for the sake of her and her daughter. Pretending she doesn't see that her daughter looks nothing like her ex husband, pretending she doesn't see the resemblance to her neighborhood milkman. Staying quiet, eyes and lips sealed shut. Keeping her secret away from even herself.

An uncaring, boring man to the public eye, who secretly relishes in the silent chaos he's caused for numerous marriages. Going about his day, hiding his sadistic smile behind a mundane lifestyle and tired eyes. Knowing the effect he has on unsuspecting and lonely housewives, it does wonders for his ego. He keeps it inside, not showing his twisted delight for home-wrecking.

It goes on, many doppelgangers seeing people's true colors and proudly putting them on display.

A miserable seamstress, a model with an fake smile and endless hunger for fame, a reporter melting under the pressure of his journalism- having to do stories on these monsters day in and day out, exposed to endless horrors.

Many may look at these mimics, call them lazy, say they don't understand what a real human looks like. But they know better than anyone what's in your heart, their depiction more accurate than those only portraying what's on the surface level.

A button is pressed, the curtains fall, and their performance is done as a siren mocks the sound of applause.

#Tnmn #thats not my neighbor #Francis mosses #nacha mikaelys #that's not my neighbor #steven rudboys #Ficlet #Tnmn fanfic #Headcanons #Nacha is divorced but not to francis- he's just a homewrecker #Also Steven has undiagnosed schizophrenia that he can't tell anyone about because he'll be discharged from the military #This started as a shit post and was going to end with peaches guy but I ended up liking it too much

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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the foundation of a lot of conservative thought is that there is some kind of magical force keeping the amount of suffering in the world constant, and that any effort that would broadly reduce suffering a great deal can be safely dismissed as being useless or untenable without examining it very closely.

This goes along with a very deep fear or intuition that something very very bad will happen if people do not suffer enough. It is a belief that the innately corrupt aspects of human nature will run rampant without "punishment" both in the strict sense and in a bigger, more general sense of "being taught a lesson" about how the world is harsh and cruel.

Conservatives who aren't, like, openly sadistic monsters can only resolve the cognitive dissonance by placing a very sharp dividing line between "kind/good/compassionate behavior as an individual" and "things that would improve society."

You, as a conservative individual, can donate to a charity or do something nice for someone, but this cannot be part of any responsibility you have as a member of your society. An individual can be kind, but it is either necessary to make sure the society individuals belong to is cruel, or at least necessary not to try to make it less cruel.

Conservative folks that don't consciously embrace cruelty must rely on historical illiteracy to call upon a monolithic " The Good Old Days" where the cruel and coercive aspects of society were stable and accepted enough that they were tempered by the benefits of true absolute conformity to traditional morality and gender roles+ the pleasures of a Simple Homesteading Life.

They rationalize coercive social standards through the argument that it only FEELS like coercion if you are introduced to another possibility, and if you immediately go limp in the jaws of the role predetermined for you, you will never want anything else. Women for instance were all perfectly happy being submissive housewives, back when there was no choice socially or legally. Everyone would be straight if no one was ever exposed to a happy openly gay person.

There is also a deep conviction that the human brain can only handle a small amount of pleasure or happiness above a neutral baseline, and "too much" sexual pleasure or mercy or relief from pain always either comes from or causes something grotesquely evil.

Their view of pleasure and happiness is very cynical and economic Law of Equivalent Exchange type stuff. Often, lots of sexual things are evil in the eyes of these people basically because they offer a suspicious amount of pleasure with no obvious "cost." They will SAY that sexual deviance is all these terrible things, but they believe that "deviant" sex feels good—too good, in fact, that's why it's that much more evil.

A lot of "trad" losers believe masturbation is from Satan because their schema for understanding the world can't accommodate the idea of something that gives you pleasure for "free," without hurting someone else or hurting you. For that pleasure to be "given" to you, it has to be "taken" from somewhere else (your soul or whatever)

It also works in reverse: the more you suffer in the present, through Hard Work or whatever, the more Good you will reap. It's a big reason why war and dying in combat are so romanticized by these people: that kind of Extreme Bad unlocks a level of Good not accessible otherwise (Freedom🎆🇺🇸)

real turd of an ideology all things considered

#politics

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unhelpfulfemme · 1 year

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Okay, so you know how Barrayar is full of stories of evil mutants kidnapping innocent Vor maidens, just like we IRL have a bunch of story templates exploiting our societal fears of some exoticized evil Other stealing our women?

And you know how modern romance/erotica takes those stories and turns them into erotic fantasies? Like, women have been going mad over The Phantom of the Opera for centuries, we've had stories about innocent maidens being forced into arranged marriages with big dick sheikhs and Middle Eastern princes for decades, and in the past decade or so both monster romance and villain romance have become completely mainstream staples of the genre?

And you know how Miles allegedly killing Tien so he could court Ekaterin was Vorbarr Sultana's Scandal of the Year for a short while, before the whole affair was capped by Ekaterin's very memorable and very public proposal?

Now, imagine some repressed Vor housewives hearing about it and thinking, in a similar vein to what Mark thought, "NGL, that's kinda hot. I always did have those fantasies where I was ravished by the villain, and I really do sometimes wish my boring sexist husband were dead." Because now that they've caught up on galactic genetics the actual fear of mutant children is kinda low among the bored upper class housewives who can afford gene cleaning, so it's the perfectly zeitgeisty moment to exoticize and objectify the mutants instead.

So one of said bored housewives decides to anonymously write a pulpy gothic-esque dark romance/erotica novel about it. Except obviously the scrawny short guy doesn't make for an appealing romantic hero, so she makes him a Taura-esque tall, massively ripped fellow who growls all his lines a là ACOTAR's Rhysand and conveniently makes all his mutations sexy in the vein of, like, A/B/O novels or Ice Planet Barbarians.

Imagine "Ravished by the Billionaire Secret Agent Mutant Count" slowly becoming popular among the ladies and the main cast learning about it, Miles lamenting about it having come out now when he's happily married and not when he was fifteen and desperate to get laid, Ivan suddenly gaining a lot more traction with the girls because they've caught onto the real life inspiration for the novel and are wondering if the Big Dick Mutation comes from Ivan's side of the family, Cordelia shamelessly reading it at dinner (she's the only person who's read it without wrapping the cover) and annoyedly pointing out the biological inaccuracies as Aral begs her to stop, Mark seeing the opportunity for a cash grab and buying the holodrama rights...

#vorkosigan saga #miles naismith vorkosigan #ekaterin vorsoisson #vorkosigan #mark pierre vorkosigan #cordelia naismith vorkosigan #aral vorkosigan #ivan vorpatril

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moonshynecybin · 3 months

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oh to see the scenes going down at borgo panigale when in a few years marc retired and all their riders are now racing for another team. like i fear what they have not quite understood yet is that if these two years turn out to be a disaster for pecco (not in terms of performance but in terms of not winning the championship lol) his ass is leavingggg

sorryyyy this doesnt answer this ask at ALL but imagine if marc starts his own team post retirement. imagine if they continue to proxy war that way. just drive to survive level real housewives cuntery across the paddock… cheating accusations bitchy press releases fights over riders…. lined, serious faces… alllll the contrast in their branding… still somehow defining themselves in relation to the other because it’s the only way they know how to BE anymore… marc with a lil ant logo polo on as a HRC independent team owner/manager (control freak.) greying at the temples and vale across the way carefully unbranded except for the monster energy hat… excruciatingly aware of each other but not making eye contact… a wind blows and they think about looking… they don’t…

#they fuck twice a year marc makes eight fishing jokes about being too old for this and they make vale’s heart clench in his chest every tim #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 5 months

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I absolutely adore the (thinly-veiled) story in "Fortnight" because as I said on album release day, it's like "ivy" but in the suburbs.

I love the conceit of some sort of sanitized, suburban wasteland being a veneer for the seedy underbelly of these unhappy couples, acting out their secret fantasies as a cover for how unsatisfying their pristine lives are. It feels so "Desperate Housewives" turned on its head.

The narrator is drinking away her troubles, but nobody notices because everyone else is just as miserable and doing the same thing. (Or don't care.) The love interest moves in to the house behind hers, captivating her across the fence line. His wife upkeeps the perfect suburban duties, tending to her garden, and it drives the narrator crazy because her own home is in shambles on the inside. How dare she make something so beautiful that hides something so ugly? How dare she be happy when she has the one thing the narrator thinks she wants?

The would-be lovers circle each other, make pleasantries like good neighbours always do, sublimating their desires for each other over idle chit chat, which only highlights how that spark has gone out with her husband. And the image of their presumed perfect marriage to their neighbours is also a lie, because while she's feeding these fantasies about the other man in her mind, her husband is openly unfaithful. And the fuck of it all is that she knows and she isn't doing anything about it. The implied reading of "my husband is cheating, I want to kill him," to me is that this is an ongoing affair, but she's just put up with it, letting the resentment build but continuing to play the role of dutiful wife. (After all, good wives always know.)

The story is suburban gothic. The pressures of up keeping the day to day of the British? American dream do nothing but kill the spirit of the people inside them when they can't admit that it's wrong. The call is coming from inside the house: the danger isn't from some monster lurking in the shadows invading their neighbourhood, but quite literally in their own backyards. The only options are to stay stuck in the mundane reality of day to day in this sterile cage, or to break free and escape to Florida, the bastion of evading the law and lovers and time. You can buy the car (or the house or the boat or whatever), but it won't fill the hole inside you if you can't admit what's wrong and follow through.

I could soooooo see this playing out as a movie or TV show and I freaking love it. (I mean, it already has, it's a whole genre lol.) There's the whole ~real life~ situation filtering through these characters, being used as a cautionary tale that would probably veer a shade too far into speculation for another post. But I do love me some storytelling about the dark side of suburbia as a foil to people's darker impulses and psychological breakdowns.

#fortnight #the tortured poets department #i also think the music video plays into this a little!!!#i also have a whole thing in my head bubbling about the recurring theme of small towns/churches/american west in several of the songs #as yet another narrative device to very faintly fictionalize a very real story #because tehre's all sorts of metaphor there #writing letters addressed to the fire

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wienners · 5 months

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the more i end up knowing about the history of horror media the less upset i get about a modern trope being overdone or turned silly. the universal monsters ended up becoming the munsters. chucky and freddy started as very effective terrifying movies, then chucky ended up becoming the real housewives of haunted dolls and freddy ended up putting teenagers into pizza and getting pregnant. i mean fuck, jason ended up in space. ghostface and 90/00s horror went straight into the scary movies the next decade. saw has been memed to hell and back. creepypasta started as genuine scary tales spread in the early internet, but slenderman hasnt actually been scary for more than a decade. backrooms is just the next piece of the cycle

#speakeasies #the backrooms #backrooms #interested to see how the movie turns out #but i hope it doesnt have too many monsters

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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Hear me out… “can we go home?” Prompt as a part 2 to “did I do good?”

this got long and i applied to jobs and had an identity crisis in the middle of writing it, hope u enjoy LMAO

TW: discussions of the explosion from "did I do good?" and medical talk wheeeee

You were growing tired of the hospital.

The pain meds warded off the sharp bite of pain everytime you moved, but they also kept your head in a continual fuzzy state. Sleep released its hold on you for only an hour or so before another dose of medicine sent you back under the veil of dreams.

Whenever you were awake, you found one or more of your children propped up in a chair in the corner of the room. Dick would be furiously jabbing his knitting needles into the air as a new project materialized between his fingers. Cass joined him occasionally, but sometimes she scooted her chair closer to your side, her slim fingers encased around yours, and watched whatever show played on the television. You were partial to Animal Planet so that meant she sat through hours of shark week and River Monsters.

Jason read, of course, sometimes silently and sometimes, when it was just him and you, he read aloud. His soft baritone voice was a comfort over the occasional beeps and shrieks of alarms out in the hall. Tim made sure to come by at the same time everyday so the two of you could watch Jeopardy and then Real Housewives. Although you were usually high off your ass because of the pain meds, you made sure to let him know what a fucking liar Erika Jayne was.

Stephanie, your little demonic angel, propped herself up in the chair next to your bed and played Sims, the sound of her laptop a steady thrum that helped put you to sleep. Your own personal white noise machine. Damian drew in his sketchbook, quiet as always, but he made sure to bring it to you during your moments of lucidity so you could see his art. Duke, however, was the hardest to pry away from your bedside. You understood his hesitation at leaving another parent at a medical center. So you didn’t say anything if you woke up to find him seated next to you, one of your hands in his, as he muddled over another crossword puzzle.

Alfred came by numerous times everyday. He brought treats for the nurses, creature comforts from home for you, and made sure that the children didn’t stay too long. You insisted that they lived their lives outside of the hospital, even their night jobs. Alfred checked over what foods you were receiving from the dining services, humming and marking down nutritional values and if you were getting enough calories. He always plied you with cookies every time he visited and ensured you were eating enough protein to help your wound heal faster. The vase of golden sunflowers next to your bed were always fresh and replenished so you suspected Alfred ensured that they were always replaced when they started to wilt.

But one person didn’t show.

You tried to not dwell on the fact that Bruce never once made an appearance. Even Clark and Diana had dropped by with flowers and well wishes. But your husband remained his usual disappearing act. You didn’t understand why and frankly, you didn’t care. For years you tried to remind Bruce that he wasn’t always Batman. He was a father and husband and friend, both inside and outside of the suit, yet it felt like as time went further, he forgot more of who he was.

It was fine. You had Alfred and your kids. Their love made you wish you could wrap your arms around them, but these damn IVs wouldn’t let you. You knew they were just as disappointed in Bruce as you were, but nothing anyone said would change things.

Until you turned on the news one night and saw the headlines that the perpetrators of the explosion at the Wayne Gala had been caught and the entire organization eradicated. The group had been targeting the Wayne family, reporters said, and they blamed you for the unemployment rate and food insecurity in the city. Well, hell, your family had been working to eradicate the wage gap and food deserts for years, but if anyone was to get hurt, you were glad it was you.

Three broken ribs, a punctured liver, internal bleeding, a concussion, and your body one giant bruise meant that your kids were safe. You would place yourself between them and the blast every single time.

The news cameras zoomed in on the bodies that were slumped against the front of the police headquarters. Faces bloodied and raw, the men stared back at the camera with haunted eyes and your breathing hitched just slightly when you recognized the mark carved into one man’s forehead.

A bat.

“Mrs. Wayne?” Geraldine, one of the day shift nurses, called from the door to your room. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you replied. “I just saw the news.”

The kindly older woman bustled in with one of the new nurses on her heels. The two women had been working three nights a week for the time you had been on the floor and you appreciated their steady, comforting nature. They had both been a little thrown when the Waynes of Gotham showed up on their floor but once you asked Geraldine to treat you like a normal person, she warmed up to you like a grandmother.

“How ya feelin’, sweets?” she asked. Every few hours they checked your vitals and incision spots to ensure that you were healing well and no infection was growing.

“Listen, I love you ladies. But if I have to stay here any longer, I might snap.”

They laughed at your comment and Farah, the fledgling nurse who followed Geraldine like a baby goose after its mama, focused on checking your incisions while Geraldine marked down your vitals.

“You’re so close to being free,” Geraldine promised. “Dr. Huerta will come by later today to check everything and hopefully, you’ll be out in a day or two.”

“Am I the last one to be discharged?” While you were the most seriously injured due to your proximity to the blast, a few people were also brought into Gotham General with varying injuries.

“Yep,” Farah hummed. “They’re all home and Mr. Wayne said he would pay for their bills.”

That made you pause. Farah’s head raised the second the words came out of her mouth and Geraldine turned sharply in her direction. Farah grimaced and sighed. “Sorry, I know he told us not to say anything.”

Your lips parted in shock and you glanced between the two women. “He called the hospital?”

Geraldine sighed and approached your bed. She reached out and clasped your hand between hers and gave you a kind smile.

“He’s been here everyday, sweets. Only leaves at night before he’s back in the morning. He just sits in the waiting room, looking like death warmed over. I keep tellin’ him that he should at least come talk to you, but he refuses unless he knows you’re asleep. Who do you think keeps bringing those flowers?”

“I don’t understand.” Your brow furrowed. “Why the fuck is he here if he won’t even talk to me? Why has no one told me?”

Geraldine pursed her lips and then she patted your hands. “Sometimes, men are stupid.”

That elicited a snort from Farah but Geraldine wasn’t finished. “I think, sweets, that he blames himself and he can’t bring himself to see you when you’re awake because he’s terrified that you’ll hate him.”

You glanced between the two women and narrowed your eyes. “What else has he done?”

They launched into a list of things. Your favorite blanket that you kept in the study at home was draped across your legs because of Bruce, the nurses were now being paid more because of his meeting with the hospital executives (and subsequent buyout of the Gotham General system so that meant more paperwork for you to deal with when you got out), and many other things. Bruce, silent as he was, operated without a word to you because he was so fucking scared that you hated him.

“Is he out there? Right now?” you asked once they trailed off.

“Yeah,” Farah sighed. “The more coffee he drinks from the cafeteria, the more I think we’re going to have to admit him soon for cardiac arrest.”

“Bring my husband in, please. If he fights you on it, tell him to stop being such a fucking coward.”

Geraldine let out a delighted laugh and practically skipped out of the room, clearly excited to give Bruce Wayne a run for his money. Farah waited patiently at your bedside and you were grateful that she didn’t abandon you right now.

Light footsteps grew closer to the door and you heard the soft creak of the hinges until he was standing before you. His hair was shaggy and unkempt and a five o’clock shadow clung to his jaw. Bruce was still in his usual daytime uniform of slacks and a button down, but the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his entire ensemble was wrinkled.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurses. They vacated the room quickly, leaving you two just staring at each other. Bruce cleared his throat and glanced towards the door as if he was preparing to leave, but you pointed your finger at him and he froze midstep.

“Sit your ass down, Wayne,” you ordered. He started towards the chairs in the corner but you let out a disapproving noise and he turned to where you were pointing. Bruce sighed and trudged over to the hospital bed you were lying in. His eyes searched your face for any sign of anger or discomfort as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne,” you began. “You stupid man.”

Your hand curled around his and you brought it to your lips, brushing a kiss against his palm. He sucked in a tight breath and you enclosed his fingers around your love.

“I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you think.”

“I should have stopped them sooner. I should have never let this happen to you. I-”

You smoothed a hand down his forearm. “You didn’t let anything happen to me. It happened because people wanted to hurt me. You can’t stop them from their thoughts or their anger, Bruce. You can’t change the way people feel. You can only do as much as you can and you and I both know that.”

He shut his eyes and sighed. Bags cradled his eyes, shadowing the bright blue pupils you woke up to every morning. The lines on his face deepened and he looked as if he aged ten years since you last saw him.

“How can you stand to be near me?” he croaked out. You reached up and tucked some of his dark hair out of his face before cradling his jaw.

“Because I like because, Bruce, and I love despite. I love you despite how many times you make me want to tear my hair out. I love you despite your self-flagellation tendencies. I love you despite the fact that there is something deeply psychologically wrong with you.” He chuckled at your teasing remark and leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against the soft skin of your wrist.

“I know you are,” you assured him. “But you’re still going to grovel so damn much.”

“Whatever you wish for, you will get.”

You considered his words for a moment and hummed to yourself. “You have to take Damian to the art museum and cannot look at your phone once.”

“Easy.” He ghosted his lips against your wrist and you shivered at the soft touch.

“Okay. How about letting Stephanie drive the car next time?”

He grimaced, obviously knowing you meant the Batmobile and thinking about the blonde’s tendency to take wide turns. “Fine.” He kissed your brow, right over some stitches as if he could heal them with just a tender touch.

“You have to shake hands with Hal Jordan and tell him he’s doing a good job.”

“You’re a fucking menace.” Bruce dipped his head down to kiss you sweetly, but you were grinning too much to let it last.

“Can we go home now?” you whispered against his lips. “I just want to be in bed with you. I’m sick of the food here.”

He cradled your head against his chin and sighed, his breath washing across your skin. Bruce was so careful with you as to not aggravate any of your injuries. For as idiotic as he could be in the emotions department, he knew exactly what to do to comfort you physically.

“Soon, my love. And I will wait on you hand and foot. I’ll never let anything happen to you again. Ever. I swear.”

“I know.” But you didn’t take his promise to heart. Not in your line of work. He could guarantee that the sun would rise in the morning and set in the evening, but no one could promise that the scythe of death wouldn’t come calling any minute.

But you would let him hold you and make promises. It would make him feel better and that, in and of itself, was a gift.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman x reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne #honey's 3k celebration

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onlydylanobrien · 11 months

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Dylan O’Brien Was in the Audience of ‘Watch What Happens Live With Andy Cohen’ — and Us Has Questions

By Yana Grebenyuk October 18, 2023

Dylan O’Brien has all of Us wondering what his favorite Bravo shows are after his surprise audience appearance on Watch What Happens Live With Andy Cohen.

Host Andy Cohen kicked off the show on Tuesday, October 17, by introducing guests Real Housewives of Salt Lake City star Monica Garcia and comedian Heather McMahan. He then pointed out that O’Brien, 32, and producer Tommy Alter were both in the audience. Cameras switched to O’Brien who did a thumbs up for viewers while sipping a drink.

“I want to welcome our friends Dylan O’Brien and Tommy Alter to the Clubhouse. Great to see you! Dylan being a huge Vanderpump Rules fan, I found out tonight. I love it,” Cohen, 55, said as the audience cheered.

O’Brien was not mentioned again, but he did get fans talking about the unexpected cameo. “This feels random. Dylan O’Brien is in the #WWHL audience tonight!” a social media commentator wrote via X.

Meanwhile, another viewer poked fun at O’Brien enjoying himself in New York City, writing, “Just dylan o’brien in his natural state (sipping on his drink) in the audience of wwhl tonight.”

O’Brien was photographed hours prior showing his support for the ongoing SAG-AFTRA strike on the picket line. He wore a hoodie that referenced the actors’ union, which he paired with green sweatpants and a red baseball hat.

The actor rose to stardom after playing fan-favorite character Stiles Stilinski on MTV’s hit series Teen Wolf from 2011 to 2017. O’Brien went on to score the role of Thomas in the Maze Runner film franchise. He has since also appeared in movies including Deepwater Horizon, American Assassin, Bumblebee, Love and Monsters and Not Okay.

O’Brien’s collaborations with Taylor Swift, however, have been our favorite part of his filmography so far. In 2021, O’Brien starred opposite Sadie Sink in Swift’s short film All Too Well. He was also credited as a drummer on Swift’s song “Snow on the Beach,” which was featured on her 2022 album Midnights.

After All Too Well scored five nominations at the MTV Video Music Awards, O’Brien praised Swift, 33, as an artist.

“She sent us the news first thing in the morning,” he told Entertainment Tonight in July 2022. “She’s genuinely just someone who’s so involved and just proud of her work and is so grateful for any accomplishment or recognition for something that she just poured herself into. Talk about a special human.”

According to O’Brien, he has been in a “group chat” with Swift and Sink, 21, since working on the music video together. “[Taylor] would make a really, really good director. If it’s something that her heart’s in, Taylor can do whatever she wants,” he added. “She could easily direct a feature and it’d be something I’d sign up for, for sure.”

Source: usmagazine.com

#dylan o'brien #wwhl with andy cohen #news

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drdt-headcanons · 9 months

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one for each of the cast

Teruko Tawaki: will probably end up being somebody’s baby mama and living off that child support after she actually put up the child for adoption but pretends it’s alive for the money

Xander Matthews: I feel like he’s definitely the type to see someone cry and immediately try to make them laugh or cheer them up, and he will do anything from dad jokes to peek-a-boo to see the person smile again.

Min Jeung: She loves Brooklyn, Spanish and Sicilian accents. She really loves all accents in general and can understand almost anybody if any accent, but those are her favorites.

Arei Nageishi: massive Hello Kitty/Sanrio girl. I mean this girl has the stickers on her backpack, folders, dorm room, plushies, etc. she also definitely runs one of those hello kitty toxic female meme accounts that have like 25k+ followers.

David Chiem: There will be times before events where David just does not have the energy to shower so he will just drown himself in perfume and no one tells him that it smells like shit, but it does the trick for him.

Charles Cuevas: This man knows Spanish, but he can not roll his r’s. I’m telling you this man probably had Hispanic parents who were dedicated to learning English and never taught him Spanish, or they had been in the USA for generations. Everyone he knows rips on him for this.

Whit Young: This man drinks up reality TV. I’m telling you he probably watches every single Real Housewives and TLC for hours with just himself, comfy pajamas and a bowl of buttered popcorn.

Eden Tobisa: her parents used to buy her the Lego friends sets and she’d always throw away all of the men in the sets and build each of the sets so her women would have new spaces to have their love-triangle romance drama.

Ace Markey: he definitely lives on some sort of secluded farm and he’s just part of one big happy family, but he always feels he’s the odd one out because of his cowardice, and he was the only one who always got scolded about behavior and grades, so he feels excluded from his siblings.

Veronika Grebenischikova: before she got into horror she used to be a scene/skater kid and she had tons of hair extensions and jewelry made out of Monster tabs. She now is more into gothic subcultures and music.

Rose Lacroix: At one point her and her family were living in their car, so before Rose got into forgery, she would sit for hours until her moms got home and would either beg for money or rob people so they could afford rent for an apartment.

Levi Fontana: Levi’s older brothers are similarly built to him except even taller and even buffer, but they also acted much more tough and got into things and places he shouldn’t have. He learned his bad behavior from them and his parents who had mental issues and could not hold a steady job.

Hu Jing: Her family is always her number one priority but even though her parents are very kind and supportive, she always feels like she needs to lie to them and keep up being a perfectionist and a perfect balance of Chinese for her parents and American for her classmates.

Nico Hakobyan: loves the cottagecore aesthetic and even though they like baggy clothes with the tags cut off most of the time, if they had to ever dress formal for smth, they’d wear a cottsgecore dress.

Arturo Giles: definitely is a drag queen in his spare time or is trans female. He’s constantly up to date with everything celebrity including movies, music and social media, and is the most knowledgeable of people on pop culture at any moment.

J Rosales: her and her brother used to pretend to swap genders when they were younger and they are both transgender and afraid to come out to each other, but the swapping genders game is a core memory

Thanks for reading :)

#drdt #teruko tawaki #xander matthews #min jeung #arei nageishi #david chiem #charles cuevas #whit young #eden tobisa #ace markey #veronika grebenshchikova #rose lacroix #levi fontana #hu jing #nico hakobyan #arturo giles #j moreno #j rosales #angsty and fluffy drdt headcanons

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