#vintage candy box doll

[super-lovely-star]

Fun and nostalgic gifts and treats for Middle Regressors and Dreamers

This is a list of cute little things you can get for yourself or your middle friend! I will generally list them from cheapest to most spendy- but remember, just because something is cheap doesn’t mean it’s a bad gift. Don’t spend beyond your means! And also, you DO NOT need these things to “properly regress!”

Mood Jewelry ($) These were popular when I was a kid. You can get mood rings, necklaces, bracelets, and probably even earrings.

Age appropriate cosmetics ($) Like scented lip creams and gloss, or body glitter.

Glow in the dark stars ($) you can get these in the classic color, or bright colors!

Fidget toys ($) I especially like Tangle! These are good if you have anxiety or are just fidgety.

Small collectable toys ($) Like matchbox cars, littlest pet shop, blind box toys, etc!

Candy ($) Just make sure you don’t get too much, or you might get sick! I especially like sour patch kids, and yan yan.

Stickers ($) I like to get these at Daiso, but you can get them pretty much anywhere! Especially good of you/your friend keeps a journal or writes letters.

Cute plushie keychains ($) To clip onto your bag!

Art supplies ($-$$) If you/your friend likes to draw, you can get some colored pencils, markers, etc! Even a new sketchbook!

Stuff with a First initial on it ($-$$) like pillows, jewelry, little compacts, keychains, etc.

Kids craft kits ($-$$) they have plenty of these at craft stores! Jewelry making kits, paint a sculpture, you name it!

A cute character waterbottle ($-$$) choose depending on your/their favorite character/franchise! I have an usahana water bottle coming in the mail!

A lava/glitter lamp ($$) A cool way to add atmosphere to your/their room, and super relaxing to look at.

A caboodle ($$) To keep your/their accessories, makeup, art supplies, or small toys organized.

Plushies, duh! ($$) If you’re on a budget, you can get these at thrift stores! Just make sure to clean before cuddling.

Action figure or Fashion doll ($$) If you/they are less into plushies, these make equally good companions.

Video games ($$) for whatever console you/they use. I like nintendogs games best!

Tamagotchi ($$) or a similar virtual pet! I never had one, but they look fun!

A DVD of a favorite movie ($$) You can get these cheaper secondhand! Just make sure they still work.

A cute journal ($$) I like the ones they sell at Claire’s best. They look like cute animals!

Vintage Clothes ($$-$$$) If your shopping on ebay or depop, make sure you know the measurements. Especially if you’re going for actual tween brands like Limited Too or Mezzo Piano Junior, which run smaller than adult sizes.

An inflatable or beanbag chair ($$-$$$) Just make sure you/they have space for one!

MP3 or CD player ($$$) Especially good gift for a music lover!

Last but not least, a Razor scooter! ($$$) Did you know they make these in adult sizes? I have one named Jazz and I love it dearly.

Love you all, platonically ofc! 🎁💝

[accio-victuuri]

Sugar Rush: September CPNs 🍬🍭

The month of BXGs had some very exciting candies! Let’s review them together ^^ Same disclaimer applies. Only for CPN-loving bxgs. If you hate this kind of thing, please spare yourself the pain and scroll along.

• Similarity between Shengyang & Yibo ( when what you love becomes a career )

• Same brand = Covernat

• Them being the Sun 🧡

• WYB’s Pechoin Ad spotted in an episode of SBMS

I really have a lot of feelings with the Shengyang x Chen Shuo AU pairing. They are so perfect together!

I mean….. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

• There is something about the similarities between shengyang & yibo in the way that they look at the person they care about the most that gets me. it’s this whole “puppy” devotion they got going on. an innocent kind of love.

the kind where you look at the person’s reaction first when something happens, you wanna see them happy before you enjoy what’s in front of you. even if they don’t talk, you carefully observe their body language cause you wanna figure out how to help them and show them that you’re on their side. ☀️

• In a BTS released by One & Only, they showed some wardrobe and looks for Chen Shuo. This one is him wearing a black helmet instead of red. Did you see the peppa pig sticker? and i can’t make out the other one. What a coincidence, considering the CQL crew’s “history” with peppa pig 😂😂😂

• Not really CPN, but to archive this incident where cpfs commented WYB photos on ZZ’s douyin post. This reminds me of that 95 post on weibo, where it was all cpf, then 🍤 of course did the most to “erase” that. but that comment section has so many interactions. I’m 50/50 on this, I think it’s unnecessary to do it, knowing full well that it will “provoke” a fan war and i personally don’t want that. The other half of me tho is cackling cause cpfs surely know how to troll. My fave tho are photo comments of cute fandom dolls 🥺🥺🥺

• One and Only top box office in Chongqing on 9/4

• Summary of SBMS clowning material from 9/1 to 9/5 ☀️

• Similarity in WYB & XZ selfies ( vintage motorcycle gear )

• XZ’s mystery driver, and was it WYB?

• INNER MONGOLIA MYSTERY : I’m naming it as such because it’s truly a mystery as of writing. There’s been some rumors already that LOCH & Mermaid will have scenes shot in IM. XZ tho is confirmed to be there. The cast and crew were spotted and XZ is not exactly hiding it either, his IP is there.

What makes it sus is a video captured that is allegedly of the hotel entrance where XZ stays. It’s too dark to see who he is with but some cpfs are saying you can see someone who is like WYB going in too w/ XZ. the way the person walks tho is so WYB as far as I can tell. And the most sus thing is the hotel closed all the lights in the lobby. Who the fuck does that. Yeah I know XZ is VIP and they will do everything to protect him and make sure no photos of him will be taken. But to actually close all the lights??? There must be something more… probably another VIP guest????

and well this.. whatever this is… it’s not covering with umbrellas anymore, it had come to this kind of hiding already. and how they were hiding who was coming in and. there were 2 people. so yeah. 👀

again, i am including this here to archive but i’m not fond of them being followed around like that. just leave them alone to work in peace. 🙃 we should be more focused on their projects and not act like paps. understand the reason why there are proxy shooters is because there is an audience.

the most sus thing do, is come monday, the black cloth and all the cover up was not done anymore. So it makes you think that they were really trying to hide something in those days they used it. 🤡

• SBMS clowning series version 2 / version 3 / version 4 / version 5 / version 6

• Hangzhou Asian Games power couple 🔥🔥🔥

• THEM and Li Qin as leading lady 😂😂😂

• Their long hair! Please bring it back for both please and thank you ☺️☺️☺️

and the fact that GG is absolutely glowing in the photo. We’ve been speculating that WYB visited him, so is this the result????

• YIBO-Official 9th debut anniversary debut clowning: who folded the shirt // 2019 memories, new? black panther drawing and day&night selfies // XZ signed the artwork + the pose is inspired by yibo

• Edited background in yibo’s selfie + Why we think this was taken in Inner Mongolia

• Couple autograph !!!!

• RIO becomes cpf’s friend lol

• Love is like this / Fireworks

• The timing of their posts ( an example )

• This is so funny!!!! Now that we have a glimpse of Wei Ruolai, he is being paired to Xiao Sa — who we know is Mister Ye’s. So it’s now a love triangle 😂

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

• bracelet & hand cpn - i don’t personally buy into this cpn but a huge chunk of the fandom were talking about it so i’m including it

• XZS Vlog Chapter 6 candies: ZZ & WYB similarity in XZS vlog + xzs and ybo are working together again & salomon shoes & mosaic design + panda rumor

• Matching Mid Autumn festival post ; Also how WYB’s look like there is a Mole. ☺️

There are also talks of the photo being taken from a proper camera, the most popular guess being a leica. I guess how YBO reposted this and said something like how Bobo is a “photographer” clued people in. But it could be because he posted an artsy photo like this instead of a selfie. 📷

—— END ——

See you all next month! 💕🍬

[littlest-nightingale]

Okay I'm done trying to write decently here's random headcannons

Aziraphale keeps little caramel candies with him, Crowley prefers the dark chocolate covered coffee beans

While they could miracle in littlegear or food, stuff that they conjure just isn't as good, something about it is lacking

The good thing is, they don't necessarily have a budget, so they can have anything

Little Crowley likes dolls. He loves them, he's very particular about how his dolls are treated and takes utmost care to make sure that they are in good condition. He even has custom dresses made to match a few of them.

Aziraphale has learned the hard way that little Crowley should not be left in the bookshop unattended for a multitude of reasons

Crowley has driven the Bentley while regressed. Crowley should not drive the Bentley while regressed.

Crowley doesn't admit it, but he quite likes angel milk

Anathema is a very anxious little thing, Newt tries his best but unfortunately, he isn't the best with littles

The Them have adopted Anathema. Regression is far from the strangest thing they've encountered.

Newt is an anxious wreck the first time Anathema regressed, at least she thought his repeated mistakes were funny

Crowley is not allowed to drive while Aziraphale is regressed. He just isn't. Aziraphale will have a panic attack if he tries. Especially if he's in the car.

They have a very well loved first edition Winnie the Pooh book. It has it's own special place in it's own special box.

Aziraphale read the entire Bunnicula series to little Crowley, it's the only thing that he can read to the little without him whining about being bored.

Crowley, both big and little, absolutely adores Aziraphale's wings. Little Crowley is more open about that, though. He loves snuggling up next to the angel and letting him cover him with them like a blanket.

Crowley is still just as strict with his plants while little. Aziraphale does not like how Crowley treats his plants, so little Aziraphale will sneak around and water them and sometimes, he sings. Crowley pretends not to know.

Occasionally they will buy some new toy, something that's really popular at the time (like a hatchimal or like. A slime kit.) Crowley enjoyed the slime. Aziraphale did not. He didn't like the hatchimal either, neither of them did.

Most of the toys they do keep are vintage

Crowley makes a point of staring down people who give Aziraphale weird looks, especially if Aziraphale is using a pacifier. You do not mess with his little angel

Aziraphale is trying his best to be meaner to people who comment on Crowley's regression. He tries his best but, y'know, angel. He's very bad at being mean.

Crowley thought it would be cute to get Aziraphale a little something for Father's Day, as a little thank you for being his cg. Since there isn't like. A cg day. Aziraphale cried

The best way to get Crowley to sleep is a late night drive in the Bentley. Crowley doesn't like to let Aziraphale drive his car, this is the exception. One of Aziraphale's favorite sights is that of Crowley curled up in the passenger seat with his pacifier and a stuffie <3

[fairykukla]

I really do love letting kids play with my toys. My adult kiddo came by so I could make some alterations for her, and she brought my fairy grandchild.

She saw my dolls on display and asked if she could play with them. She's 7 so I don't have a problem offering her the BJDs, but I also offered Barbies.

I pulled out some doll furniture and accessories (Thanks, @dollsonmain ) and my boxes of Barbie sized clothes pulled aside for the BJDs.

I'm delighted with her fashion sense here.

Beige vintage blouse, on backwards, with a little mini skirt and ballet shoes.

80s Vintage Ken shirt with 2000s vinyl flare leg pants.

Late 70s/early 80s Candi top, on backwards, with 70s red hand-crocheted bell bottom overalls and periwinkle boots.

I never would have chosen any of these combinations, but I'm just tickled by her choices!

[msannadonnelly]

Anna’s Christmas Gifts 

Dilan ( @moonglowmagic ): A designer brand bib, a bucket of children’s Christmas toys, including coal, and a diamond bracelet 

Chai ( @cantfightmoonlight ) : An Orville Redenbacher’s Christmas Sweater, a large pack of candies (and popcorn), and a $30,000 vintage watch 

Bex ( @illputabexonyou ) : A designer backpack and a pink comb that opens up to reveal a knife. 

Rohan ( @rohanxpersaudx ): A pair of designer cufflinks and a doll from 1870 with a note “Borrowed this from a ‘friend’ many years ago. She is almost certainly haunted. Enjoy. - Anna” 

Ken ( @kenxmatsui ): A pack of vampire themed band-aids

Bea ( @crescentcrowd ): A box of tissues (christmas themed!) 

Meena: A pair of Louis Vuitton red-bottoms and a stack of plates with a note “these were very expensive and borrowed from a very unpleasant man--i thought you might like to break them - Anna” 

Jonah ( @jonahxrivas ) : A beginner’s axe, axe throwing lessons, and a mermaid fish-tank decoration 

Ross ( @themusicofrossdrake ): An album on which she has recorded herself singing with a suggested price sticker for resale of $10,000 

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Vintage 7.5” Lombardi Fiori Felt Lenci Type Mascotte Firenze Italy Dolls New Box ebay Candy's Crates

[faroutgardengirl]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Fitz & Floyd Holiday Musical Figurine Arctic Santa - 'O Holy Night'.

[jana-hallford]

Valentine Memories: School Valentines, Heart-Shaped Candy Boxes, and a Special Cupcake

Valentine’s Day is by its very nature a sentimental time. I remember Valentines like the ones below, exchanged on Valentine’s Day all through elementary school. Some came in sheets with perforations for separating individual Valentines, while others were fully die-cut, ready to be signed. In both cases, packages of Valentines came in assorted designs.

As I mentioned in my inaugural post, Valentine and Christmas card designs are often reprinted for years, so the ones shown here could easily have been used before and after my era. We’re apparently allowed to get a little old-fashioned for these holidays,

Vintage bunny-theme Valentine.

Vintage telephone-theme Valentine. When I was growing up, images of young girls talking on the phone were very common, on greeting cards and even birthday cake decorations.

Pirate-theme vintage Valentine.

I like this cute kitten vintage Valentine. No play-on words, just a sweet cat with a simple message.

Vintage television-theme Valentine.

Vintage scuba-theme Valentine. The 1958 - 1961 television series “Sea Hunt” popularized scuba diving. 

Vintage Valentine featuring a young witch resembling Elizabeth Montgomery of the "Bewitched" television series, 1964 - 1972.

Vintage Valentine for a teacher.

I enjoyed using printed Valentines, especially selecting pictures or themes that matched the interests of my friends. However, my favorite memories are of Valentines I made myself. I remember in kindergarten, my first chance to exchange Valentines, the set my mother bought me was about eight or ten short for the number of classmates I had. (Baby Boomer classes were large.)  I drew pictures of ballerinas and made Valentines for the girls I knew best, and gave the printed Valentines to everyone else. My hand-drawn Valentines were much admired, and that made me, a five-year-old artist, very happy.

In the 5th grade, I was starting to get a bit self-conscious about giving out mushy Valentines to everyone. Inspired by a story from a “reader” (reading textbook) about an Eastern European immigrant girl who didn’t have the means to buy Valentines or the materials to make paper ones, I baked heart-shaped cookies for my whole class. Those also went over well.

Heart-shaped boxes of chocolate were very popular on Valentine’s Day, and still are, but back in the day many were highly embellished with ribbons and lace.

A collection of vintage heart-shaped candy boxes, including one from See’s Candy,

Vintage red heart-shaped candy box with ruffles and lace, topped with a red bow and an artificial rose.

Vintage heart-shaped candy box. This one stands out for me because it is a beautiful light blue, rather than red or pink.

Lovely pink vintage heart-shaped candy box, with lots of ruffles and lace, topped with delicate pink roses.

Yet more vintage heart-shaped candy boxes. I wonder about the women and girls who originally received these as Valentine’s Day gifts, and what their lives were like.

When I was about five, my parents gave me a Valentine’s Day heart-shaped box of chocolates with a doll on it. Candy box dolls were inexpensive dolls, typically  with “frozen” (non-bendable) legs, but I loved that gift, and remember it fondly. Below are some similar candy box dolls.

Vintage red heart-shaped candy box topped with a doll with a pink dress trimmed in red. She has millinery flowers on her red hat (which appears to be heart-shaped) and for her bouquet.

Vintage heart-shaped candy box topped with a doll in a white dress with blue trim. Her face looks like she’s a little older, from the 1940s or 1950s, but I’m including her because I think she’s pretty.

Vintage pink heart-shaped candy box topped with a doll in a pink hat and a blue and white dress, carrying a little bouquet of millinery flowers.

Vintage Valentine candy box topped with a doll with a red dress and hat. She too has a bouquet of millinery flowers.

One of my all-time favorite Valentine’s Day memories is of my mother taking me, age six, and my brother, age two, to a bakery with a Swiss chalet-inspired façade, and buying us each a fancy cupcake. (My three older siblings were off doing something else.) The cupcakes were decorated with hearts and cute smiling faces made from round, spun balls of paper on toothpicks, and they wore little hats. The next year or so, I was given a small red heart-shaped box of chocolates. I still have the decoration from that, with a plastic head and pipe cleaner limbs. 

Vintage Valentine decoration, from my personal collection. I’ve had this since I was about seven years old. The label on the back says MADE IN JAPAN.

[starryevermore]

his doll: pepsi cups and parking lots (1) ✧ lee bodecker

his doll ✧ a tatted mob boss!lee bodecker series | ao3

pairing: tatted mob boss!lee bodecker x fem!reader

request: So can I pls ask if you could somehow incorporate a pepsi cup into the tatted mob!lee thing whenever you write it coz I’m it’s not like I need my sanity anyways 🥵🤗🥺 thank u 😘 - @tumblin-theworldaway​

summary: you take care of lee after he takes you on a date. 

word count: 906

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, inspired by the pepsi cup scene (some of the dialogue directly taken from the scene, but I also made it fit into this universe by changing a few things), handjob, pet name (doll) 

note: there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.

Lee Bodecker was a powerful man, and powerful men like him get exactly what they want. So, when he asked you out on a date last week, you knew that you had no choice but to say yes. If you didn’t, he would continue going after you, relentlessly pursuing you until you eventually gave into his desires. Though, you weren’t one to complain about it. While Lee had his moments that fell into the dark side, so did you. He just didn’t know it yet. 

No, he thought you were all doe eyes and cotton candy and bubblegum. He didn’t know that your daddy taught you to shoot before you could ride a bike, that you were taken to boxing lessons as soon as you were allowed into the gym. You weren’t some timid little girl, even if that was what the entire town thought you to be. No, you were more than that. You also knew how to get what you wanted, and Lee Bodecker was exactly what you wanted. 

The two of you had just left the restaurant Lee had taken you out to. It was one of the nicest ones in town, the kind that had a dress code to even be allowed in the door. Lee had gotten you a stunning red dress to wear, hugging you in all of the right places. And he was wearing his best suit—together, you looked like a fucking power couple. 

He’d insisted on driving you himself, said he didn’t want to deal with his new driver, something about how he was too slow, too inexperienced for Lee’s taste. But you both knew that was a lie. Lee had really just wanted to get you alone to himself, drive you to an abandoned parking lot and have his way with you. 

He had a vintage car, the kind that didn’t have a center console in the way, instead having a bench seat that let you slide up next to him. His arm was thrown over the back of the seat, his hand brushing against your shoulder, pulling you tighter against him. His cock had been freed from the confines of his pants the minute he parked, standing tall, hard as a rock just for you.

A smirk stretched across his face when he saw you practically drooling at the sight of him. He grabbed at your hand and guided you to his cock, wrapping your small hand around his length. “Go ahead, doll. You can touch me.���

He didn’t need to tell you twice, twisting your wrist as you stroked his cock. His hips lifted off the seat, fucking himself into your hand, groaning as you gave him a tight squeeze. If the steering wheel wasn’t so much in the way, you would’ve been ducking your head down, taking him in your mouth, suckling on that pretty red tip. But it was in the way, so you had to be satisfied in the moment with running your thumb along his slit, collecting the beads of precum that were leaking.

“When am I gonna get you in bed?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his lips, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip

“Soon, doll,” he grunted, reaching down to the paper Pepsi cup he had lying beside him, pressing it into the hand that wasn’t occupied. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ good at this. Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Yeah? You got a plan then? Know exactly how you’re gonna take me?”

“Yeah, got it all planned out,” he sighed. “Gonna take you on a coupla more dates, take you back to my place. Lead you up the stairs, nearly fuckin’ you against the wall. But I’ll wait, I’ll hold back. ‘Cause when I take you, I want you fuckin’ screamin’ into my mattress. No more parking lots, no more Pepsi cups. Just you, me, and my big ole bed.”

He moaned, loud, and you were half convinced that the entire town would able to hear him. His was close to coming, so you held the Pepsi cup close to him, ready to catch everything he had. His body rose off the seat as he came, thick white ropes coating the inside of the cup, you being careful to make sure you didn’t spill a single drop.

“That was good.” 

A sense of pride surged in you. You liked when he complimented you. Made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like you were the only girl who knew how to treat him right. And you swore you would keep it up. You knew Lee Bodecker could take care of you, so why shouldn’t you repay the favor? It was only fair. 

“You get it all in the cup?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, peppering kisses along his jaw. “Just like you wanted, baby.”

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ marry you,” Lee sighed, tilting your head up so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“After just one date and a handjob?” you teased.

“No, knew I’d marry you long before that, doll. Knew from the moment I first saw you,” he said. “Now you know it too.”

“Mr. Bodecker, you know you gotta ask a gal first before you start gettin’ all possessive.”

“Be mine, doll,” he said without missing a beat. “Be mine and only mine.”

“Oh, Lee, you know I already was. I decided I’d be yours from the moment I saw you.”

[musings-from-an-elder-goth]

Gothitecture

gothitecture: architecture appreciated by goths.  -Urban Dictionary

Gothitecture is like pornography.  You know it when you see it.  The Addams Family mansion, The Munsters’ house, the Psycho house, the Houses of Parliament, and Cologne Cathedral all spring quickly to mind as examples.  But it’s also that dark and hyper-modern new cabin in the mountains, or that steampunk tower in that rundown industrial neighborhood, or the ruins of that 500 year old castle on the outskirts of town.  Gothic, Victorian, Baroque, Romanesque, Dark Deco, Post-Modern - any and all of these can fall into this delightful architectural sub-genre so beloved by the darkly inclined. 

Even as a lad, my eyes would fall upon certain architectural styles and linger upon their lines and sensibilities.  They seemed special.  They seemed ‘right’.  Passing through a neighborhood of cape cods, ranches, and split levels, my eyes would glaze over in disinterest, but as soon as that rare Victorian cottage sprang into view, my mind would jump to life - my eyes drinking up every little detail of the ornate gables, the cast iron fence, the moldings beneath the eaves.  These rare beasts seemed to possess a unique quality that made them seem so special.  These buildings embodied personality and grace.

Overly introspective as most goths tend to be, I’ve often wondered as to the origins of this fascination and I may have sussed it out.  When I was crazy young, 3 or 4 years of age, my mother was friendly with an old woman who lived in a very modest, yet decidedly Victorian, house.  It isn’t quite large enough to be called a mansion, but it’s close.  Amazingly, it still stands, although I’m sure the little old lady is long gone.   Located in a severely rural area of North Carolina, it lacks the ornate finery of similar homes from even the smallest of towns, but anyone who looks upon it would agree:  Victorian. 

In it’s day, it was likely one of the grander residences of the county, but that day has long passed.  To me, it is and always will be special because of the memories that reside within.  Visiting the woman who lived there was a special occasion and my mother would make me wear nice clothes and sternly instruct me to be on my best behavior.  I was to say, “Yes, ma’am,” or “No, ma’am,” and to otherwise keep my mouth shut.  Not the best behaved of children, I was nevertheless happy to comply because of the wonders that hid inside.  The house was filled with antique furniture and decor, most of it Victorian vintage.  I can still recall being entranced by the a stereoscope viewer complete with image cards from the late 19th century.  I remember the intricate crystal candy dish upon the coffee table that held horrid hard candies which might also have been of Victorian vintage.  I was obliged to force one down each visit out of politeness, but it was like eating glass.  It was worth it because as soon as the women set themselves to the serious business of chit-chat, I was shepherded into a separate room - the room with The Toy Box.

I don’t recall precisely what The Toy Box looked like, but it was large, simple, and painted.  Within, were wonders untold.  At least 75 years worth of toys lived inside, all in excellent condition and each eager for a child’s attention.  My tiny hands fell upon tin soldiers, Jacobs Ladders, hand puppets so old their once heavy cloth was reduced to gossamer wisps, hand carved and painted tigers, horses, elephants, and spring-loaded cannons with accompanying tiny cannon balls.  A battered tin Spitfire airplane spoke of the little boy form the war years who ran through the yard holding it high over head so it soared through the clouds.  A faded rag-doll recalled the little Edwardian girl who used to hold her close and call her ‘My Dolly’ - it never left that little girl’s side until one day, it did.  I’m sorry dolly, I don’t know where your little girl went.  Perhaps she’s the old lady in the next room?  I seemed to fall into that toy box for weeks at a time, although it was probably less than an hour at a go.  Everything seems so much bigger when we’re young, especially time.  But not all the toys were happy.  There was one that scared me.  It was a Jack-in-the-Box. 

Allow me to clarify: it scared the hell out of me.  I don’t know what it was about that thing, but I only ever cycled it once.  The music the crank produced was old, sickly, and twisted.  The spring rusty and diseased.  It didn’t so much pop out as lurch forth.  It was a nightmare in a box.  I quickly shut it, latched it, and buried it beneath the other toys, but it would continue to make occasional evil sounds whenever I shifted the other toys about.  I imagine it’s still there to this day, patiently waiting to terrorize another child.  It’s what it does and that’s all it does.  But for me, it was an evil contained.  I knew it wanted to torment me, but I wouldn’t let it, so I was free to enjoy the wonders of The Toy Box.  Such strong memories must carry weight, correct?  Is this the reason my eyes linger lovingly on Victorian houses to this day?  Perhaps.  But what of gothic revival structures, or  Romanesque, or Post-Modern?  I never spent time inside one of those as a child with a magical toy box.  Introspection can sometimes twist into a Shining Maze.  Best not to stay too long - you may become frozen inside, forever.

Gothitecture can also spring from a place rather than a form.  Take a simple A-frame cabin in a dark wood.  We goths do love a good, dark wood.  Perhaps a light rain falling from an overcast sky.  Ravens caw and circle above.  Some forest creature runs by, unseen in the underbrush, but definitely heard - perhaps a wolf?  Tendrils of fog drifting across a forest path.  As night falls, broken clouds waft past the sickle moon.  An owl calls out questions to the shadows beneath the trees.  And late into the evening, we gather around a fire pit as the mountain cold wraps about us, and stare into the hypnotic, dancing fire.  I’m so there.

Perhaps we cast our thoughts favorably upon these styles because that’s where we belong and we full well know it.  We’re meant to drift about within these halls and upon these grounds.  The sounds of our heavy black boots upon stone floors is a thing meant to be.  The whisper of long dark coats as they brush across walls is a sound intended.  It’s a symbiotic relationship.  What’s a Gothic cottage without a goth to reside within?  How lonely it must be.  Those gargoyles perched upon the gables are not just there to ward off evil spirits, they’re also there to welcome home long lost friends.  When you look up at them, give them a friendly smile.  They know their kith and kin.

Standing before one of these dark masterworks of space and form, one cannot help but be transfixed, but play the appropriate music to accompany these edifices, and the experience becomes truly profound.  Let The Sisters of Mercy, or Switchblade Symphony, or The Damned echo within these halls, and perception becomes sublime.  All the pieces fall into place and all is right within our dark world.  Goth music was meant to be played within gothitecture while the shadowy forms of goths dance about within.  All becomes right with the world.  

Perhaps then, even evil toys are lulled into slumber within the forgotten toy boxes of the Counties of Caroline. 

creaturesfromelsewhere  12-29-2021

[plushyteeths]

gender envy but it gets randomly concerning gonna be updated occasionally !!

   + ravens    + it’s the end of the world as we know it by r.e.m.    + the snail bomb from half dead 3    + the creatures from gtfo    + black cats with solid white eyes    + mothman    + forget-me-nots    + facial scars & piercings    + stick n poke tattoos    + early 2000s band rubber bracelets    + gloomy bear    + the russian sleep experiment     + the vibes of a city after dark    + pitbulls    + anthrax [the disease , not the band]    + pink & green plushys    + bags covered in pins & keychains & patches    + weird really specific vintage pins/graphic tees/etc    + dermestid beetles     + turkey vultures     + banshees    + teeth    + wet specimen hearts    + bible accurate angels    + kandi accessories    + “i am made of memories” from the song of achilles    + like , the entirety of cemetery boys    + crona from soul eater    + get cool by stray kids    + also god’s menu by stray kids    + also also back door by stray kids     + guts    + hanahaki disease     + the bandsintown logo    + samsara room    + endermen     + cherries    + lord death from soul eater    + dr stein from soul eater    + grell from black butler    + undertaker from black butler    + the word boom    + infections    + ankou    + the like ,,, apple spice candle scent    + the word swarm    + “history , huh ?” from red , white , & royal blue    + baz grimm-pitch    + full body stims    + magpies    + the black dahlia [esp the mouth cuts]    + semi-sweet chocolate chips    + scott pilgrim vs the world ruined a whole generation of women by negative xp    + rosaries & straight razors     + existential crises     + the word queue     + frog skeletons     + dandelions    + crocuses     + the moon from soul eater    + the word hollyhock    + scourge from warrior cats    + the horseman of pestilence     + bloody noses    + oogie boogie & boogie’s boys from the nightmare before christmas    + the scary teddy from the nightmare before christmas    + spraypaint    + steel-toe docs    + sour candies    + scars on your knees from skinning them alot    + buttercups    + smoking     + the word heretic    + shane madej’s vibes    + there is no game : wrong dimension    + my oversize walking dead tshirt    + izze blackberry soda    + plushtrap from fnaf4    + this one bunny plushy i have with really long limbs    + toothfaeries    + swamp creatures    + birds that look like they know everything and then some    + red lights by stray kids     + the pretender by foo fighters    + beat up old notebooks crammed with sketches    + collarbone piercings    + the blood eagle [i suggest not googling this]    + ballora’s voice    + the bonnie song    + the word skitter    + coils of wire    + wooden boxes filled with little random trinkets n things    + necrosis of the flesh [another thing i suggest not googling]    + basement gerard    + picking up nightcrawlers and having a religious moment    + lilypads     + alternates from the mandela catalogue     + the heaven’s gate away team patches    + polaris & yildun from star crossed lovers    + aaron from dear , door    + my kitten’s 3am zoomies    + venus flytrap genderbend art    + corpse flowers    + tons of rings    + hands covered in plasters    + creepy plushys    + button eyes    + the other wybie from coraline & regular wybie too    + beetles ,,, just as a concept ,,, beetles    + femboys ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,    + hipbone piercings    + beppi the clown from cuphead     + many many many eyes    + balljoint dolls    + haunted toys

[ratinthedeadhouse]

Fyodor Dostoevsky Car Trip Headcanons

|| this edit took ages to make since I couldn't find a pic of fyodor in/with the car :(

🍎 He is at the wheel. No questions. If you want to drive around he'll smirk and say "No princess, I will take care of this"

🍎 Opens the door for you. Always. Because he is a gentleman and you are his princess.

🍎 He keeps the destination to himself and would play a game where you have to guess where he is taking you.

"I give up" you pout looking at the innocently smiling man at the wheel.

"Hm. You can do better than this, darling" Fyodor says in a soothing manner while his sharp lilac eyes concentrate on the road. "I will give you a hint: it has italian cuisine"

You blink twice in disbelief.

"We are getting pizza!?!?"

This is unusual because he thinks it is his duty to feed you exquisite food instead of fast food... But he can't resist treating you once in a while.

🍎 Holds your hand but never your thigh. Thinks it is too vulgar. You are a royalty and he is... Simply a rat... He enjoys holding your hand in his, fingers interwoven together.

If you move your hand he will get upset but won't say anything.

🍎 Drives carefully when you're with him... But when alone... Accidentally drives over people. He will race someone if challenged on the road.

🍎 What is the red light again???? (But when you are in the car he is a cute obedient boy because he doesn't want to hurt you)

🍎 Deliberately picks the longest routes because spending time with you makes him happy.

🍎 Definitely is the type to think a lot when driving. Fyodor drives instinctively while elaborating further in his mind the next world-annihilation step of his plan and then suddenly be like 'oh shit I am driving'

🍎He drives a retro car. All the modern innovations do not interest him.

🍎 Probably is patriotic about russian cars so expect him to pick you up in a vintage Lada Kalina :)

🍎 Classical radio in the car and he is definitely the type to recognize every fucking melody as if he is shazam (except faster)

🍎 He loves the way you look out of the window when he drives you around.

🍎 And you love to watch his thin pale hands grip the wheel.

🍎 His car is neat. You won't find any rubbish in the salon.

🍎 Stores all kind of weapons in the boot despite having the killing ability.

Policeman: "Sir, please open your boot"

Fyodor: "If you wish"

*the boot has 2 axes, 5 daggers, ropes, 3 guns and a box full of bullets, bin bags etc*

Policeman: "You are under arrest..."

Fyodor: *smirks in russian*

🍎 Probably has russian dolls as a hanging little decor

🍎 Will get candy for you whenever he's picking you up and have a bottle of water in case you forgot to drink or smth.

🍎 N E V E R gets lost. His memory is amazing. Every single road is committed to his memory.

🍎 Loves driving around at night with windows rolled down while Vivaldi is blasting at full volume.

🍎 Surprisingly never crashed a car before...

🍎 Able to drive perfectly well while being extremely drunk - but you, as a caring girlfriend/boyfriend will insist on driving them home

🍎 He can't help but tease you about falling asleep in the car and will probably tell you all sorts of amusing stories that happened while you took a nap.

🍎 Doesn't want you to drive your own car. Ever. If you are a teen he'd say it ie too early for you and that he will be CONSTANTLY worried about you. If you're older he will insist on driving you everywhere you want. He just wants to be in control :')

[dollsonmain]

I keep thinking I want to reroot this doll. Her hair is in good condition but it’s also a kind of dull pink color. She also has too much hair, being a tinsel-loaded 80′s doll.

I need to get more of the clear holo tinsel.

Shimmerlocks Cotton Candy matches her lipstick.

Seems a shame to reroot a vintage doll that’s not in bad condition, but I probably would like her quite a bit more after.

Since it doesn’t get hot in the box (it does smell like warm crayons, though... ew) I put more ponies in.

There are no chemicals applied to them, it’s just the light. I hope it’s the right KIND of light... I got the wavelength Tysy uses, but Tysy also uses hydrogen peroxide.

[hansensgirl]

secret santa | b. barnes

“do i make you feel like christmas time? put me in a party dress one time.”

summary | at stark industries tony decides to brighten things up, hosting a secret santa contest. you get bucky, and bucky gets you. as if it was all planned out, he decides to give you the best gift of all time.

pairings | dark!bucky x fem!temp!reader

warnings | non/dubcon sex, blackmailing, violence, mean!bucky, bucky is one kinky, festive motherfucker but i love him, forced oral (m receiving), anal sex, choking, slapping, restraining, guilt tripping (kinda but not really), manipulation, degrading words/names, humiliation, slight corruption, + more i think! DARK!FIC

a/n | it’s that time of the year y’all! also, i read @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ‘s drabble called “all he wants for christmas” and got inspired :) go read all their fics cause they’re amazing!

you walked down the decorated halls of the stark industries building as you headed to a meeting that tony urgently asked everyone to attend to. you thought that maybe someone is getting removed, or is getting a permanent spot to work for him. you truly hoped that the latter was you. you loved working here even though you were a temp. you fixed your santa hat on your head and stepping into the room. 

the meeting surely must be serious, given even the other avengers were here. steve rogers, bruce banner, natasha romanoff, even bucky barnes who joined the team not too recently. “there’s another” tony frustratedly groaned out, and soon more workers filed into the room. “alright, since it’s the holidays, pepper and i decided that you should all do secret santa, and please don’t hesitate to give me gifts as well” he explained, a few giggles echoing throughout the room at his last remark.

maybe you didn’t get the message that it wasn’t so serious. tony pulled out a santa hat and pepper gave out pieces of paper. it truly felt like you were little kids in elementary school. you took one from pepper and wrote your name on it. you placed it in the hat and once again adjusted yours. after, he once again went around the room and everyone stuck their hands in the hat, pulling out a piece of paper. finally he came to you and you pulled out the last name. whoever it was, you’d still have a difficult time finding a gift since you personally didn’t know anyone. you opened the horribly folded paper and in black ink wrote the one name you’d least expect; bucky. bucky barnes was intimidating for sure, but he was like a lost puppy. maybe you’ll just get him some records, but what if he doesn’t have a record player?

every gift you thought of had some defects. you didn’t want him to think your pitying him. you already had so much on your plate, and this secret santa thing was stressing you out already. you felt someone’s stare burning into you, making you squirm a bit in your chair. you looked up just to make eye contact with the same super soldier you needed to get a gift for. you quickly looked down, even his stare intimidated you. tony soon dismissed everyone and you walked off to your desk. you tried thinking of gifts that would suit him, but you didn’t even know him that well at all. all you knew was his past, that he’s from the 10’s and that he was really scary. you opened a new tab and searched up gifts for people from the 10’s. you didn’t know what you were expecting, but nothing useful came up. you then searched up vintage gifts but the same thing happened, nothing useful.

you decided to ditch google since it was no help whatsoever. you started brainstorming and wrote down a few ideas. most people that seem intimidating are probably really sweet, or are just actually intimidating. most gifts were either something you’d get a coworker, or someone’s grandmother. you also had to get gifts for your family members and friends too. you came up with a brilliant idea, just find something when you go gift shopping this weekend. you opened some new files on your computer and got back to work, your secret santa worries now gone.

❆ ❅ ❆

the last person bucky expected to get was you. in one way he felt lucky, you didnt throw yourself into him unlike the other girls. if he got laura from front desk then he would’ve thrown himself out a window; he really didn’t like her. usually, he’d probably get you candy or jewelry, but bucky had the perfect gift in mind for someone like you.

❆ ❅ ❆

you wrote the names of your relatives and friends down, and added bucky to the list too. you bought candles, clothes, gift cards and such, but still couldn’t find something for bucky. you went to almost every store in the mall and started stressing out, you only had monday, which was tomorrow, and on christmas eve everywhere will be sold out probably. you asked your friends what to get him, your cousins and even the worker at bath and body works. but you ended up with nothing.

❆ ❅ ❆

tuesday rolled around and you still stressed out about what you were going to get bucky. he was a unique man and you didn’t want to insult him in any way at all. you decided to get bucky your own copies of your favourite books, and even took the courtesy to put in a little note with a bookmark. surely it wasn’t the best gift you’ve gotten for someone, but it’s the thought that truly counts, right? you put it under the large tree in the middle of the tower and passed bucky on the way out. you had too much work to even bother to say something to him. you rushed back to your desk and got comfortable, knowing you’d be working for hours on end.

before you could start, tony’s voice echoed through the office. “there isn’t enough time for us all to gather so on your way out just pick up your gift!” he yelled over the loud coworkers of yours and walked off with pepper, off to enjoy his christmas with his family. you mentally noted to not forget to go to the tree before you leave. you began furiously typing away at your keyboard until your fingers ached.

❆ ❅ ❆

bucky opened the box and made sure everything was in there. he closed the box and wrapped it with reindeer wrapping paper to seal the deal. he smoothed it out and brought the box to the tree, passing you on the way there. you brushed shoulders but never stopped to say hi. he quickly placed it next to a larger box and started to make his way out of there, before tony’s voice halted him. “there isn’t enough time for us all to gather so on your way out just pick up your gift!” he yelled before leaving with pepper. bucky turned back around and started looking for his gift, even though he wouldn’t be leaving yet.

❆ ❅ ❆

you waved goodbye to your coworkers as you put your jacket on. you then remember that you needed to head to the tree for your gift. you quickly zipped up and grabbed your purse before making your way to it. basically almost every gift was gone, only a few were left. you read the papers on each one, searching for your name. you found you name on a box that wasn’t too heavy. you picked it up and shook it carefully, trying to find out what it was. you decided to open it up since it was basically christmas day.

you carefully tore the wrapping paper and opened up the box. the contents in the box shocked and worried you at the same time. there were pictures of yourself naked. some of you in the shower, or getting absolutely wasted. one was of you riding your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend. there were a few of you sleeping naked, and masturbating too. there were more things, though. a pair of your panties that you didn’t know were missing were in the box. you picked them up and they were dried with cum. you immediately dropped the panties and picked up the other thing. it was your vibrator. you though you just simply misplaced it and forgot where you did, but it was actually stolen from you. you looked all over the box and on the wrapping paper for a name as to who it was from, but you resulted with nothing.

“enjoy your gift? i didn’t have to work too hard but it’s the thought that counts right?” bucky spoke up from behind you, nearly giving you a heart attack. you looked back at him with fear and disgust written all over your face. how long had he been there? you were confused, a million questions flooding you mind, but only one left you mouth. “how?” you squeaked out, looking away. “you’re not a very private person doll” he sighed, walking to you. he pulled out his phone and started playing a video. it was a sex tape of you with your ex-boyfriend. “y’know stark was plannin’ on keeping you, but if he saw this video i think he’d change his mind pretty fast” he pressed pause as he spoke.

no no no, you couldn’t lose this job! especially since now that tony was planning on giving you a permanent spot. “but i’ll give you a chance, and i won’t show this video to anyone” he smirked at you, and you slowly stood up. you sure as hell weren’t about to whore yourself out! you opened your mouth to give him a good earful before he stopped you. “i wouldn’t do that, you could lose your job doing that as well” he warned you, picking up the box and handing it to you. you didn’t take it at first, but then he shoved it against you making you look back up at him before speaking. “and is this chance just me being a whore, cause i’m sure as hell not up to that” you spat, yet was careful with your tone.

he sighed heavily before he roughly grabbed your hand and pulled you to the elevators. you tried to ease his grip but there was no stopping the super soldier. you still had the box in your hand and refused to let it go. he pushed you into the elevator and you painfully crashed into the wall. he pressed the floor button ‘24’ and used his metal hand to restrain your two hands. you didn’t look at him the whole ride up, you simply just stared at the floor numbers. the ding of the elevator snapped you out of your various scenarios of what would happen. you were scared if he was going to do something horride to you.

“told stark i wanted some privacy, so he didn’t put any cameras and didn’t add that robot, wednesday or whatever the fuck her name is” he explained as he took you to a room. you knew that each avenger had their own floor, but you really underestimated how big the floors were. he once again pushed you into the room and left you in there, locking the door behind him. the room was dark but was illuminated from the city lights that shone through the window. you tried to think of a plan, but thought of the consequences. he could easily say one word against you and you’d be fired.

your head snapped up at the sound of the door creaking open. bucky emerged from behind it and flashed his pearly whites that shined through the darkness. he turned the light on and it took you a second to adjust to the brightness. “a-are you gonna hurt me?” you asked, fearful of him. “maybe, well, probably” he admitted before striding towards you.

he grabbed your throat and used his grip as leverage and pulled you up. he squeezed his hand around your throat tighter until you started clawing at his arms to let go. your vision started darkening but then he let go abruptly. he pulled your jacket off and you tried to stop him, trying to put it back on. he growled lowly and aggressively ripped it, doing the same to the rest of your clothes. you tried to cover your naked frame with your arms but he pulled them away from your body and grabbed rope. you shook your head ‘no’ and tried to pull away from him but his tight grip stopped you. he roughly tied the rope around your arms and expertly did so.

you were scared, scared as to what he could possibly do to you. he finished his knot and started speaking. “you know, your book gift was adorable, but i think i like this one better” he stroked your cheek before pulling his hand away and slapping you. your skin stung and prickled at the contact, and you didn’t like the feeling at all. he threw you onto the bed and pulled your pants down despite your kicking. one harsh, metal arm smack to your ass made you seize your fighting. “you can either be the slut you are and get some pleasure or be a bitch and get only pain” he left you no room for argument as pulled you up onto your knees.

he pulled off his pants and boxers, where his cock stood up right in front of you. the length and girth intimidated you, he was so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with. he grasped the base of his cock and tangled his metal arm in your hair. he tapped the tip on your bottom lip and you couldn’t move your head. “open up” he ordered in a sing-song voice, making you grimace. you reluctantly opened your mouth when his grip in your hair grew tighter. he shoved his cock down your throat until your nose met his patch of pubic hair. you tried to control your breathing but his cock was making it pretty difficult. “c’mon at least put some effort in” he practically taunted, and you complied, hollowing your cheeks. bucky pulled his hips back before snapping his hips forward.

he moved your head back and forth and moved his hips at the same time, desperately chasing his orgasm. you figured you might as well get this over with, and that giving him head was all you had to do. he pushed your head further down and thrusted his hips, a groan ripping through him as he came. he pulled away and forced your mouth shut, leaving you no choice but to swallow. he pulled you up and forced you onto you knees and pushed your head into the mattress. he pulled his shirt over his head and pulled your ass to the edge of the bed. he rubbed his hand against your slightly wet cunt, rubbing your clit furiously. your body started self lubricating, your cunt getting more and more wet. with no warning he shoved three fingers in your hole, thrusting them in and out like his life depended on it.

“y’know if you weren’t such a fuckin’ slut none of this would’ve happened” he spat at you as his fingers abused your poor hole. your walls clenched around his fingers and just as you were about to cum he pulled them out. you let out a loud whine and kicked your legs in frustration. his hands came down harshly on your ass, spanking you until you were begging him to stop. he spread your ass cheeks and was met with your puckered hole. his fingers pushed into your tighter hole and you screamed in pain.

“p-please, not there at least” you begged him, but you stopped your pleas since it seemed they weren’t changing his mind. “as much as i love hearing you beg, i really don’t care” he snickered, pulling his fingers out and lining his cock up with your hole. he spat on your hole and shoved his cock in, making you scream again. he slapped your ass once again and started thrusting like there was no tomorrow. he reached down and rubbed your clit as his pace fastened by the second, or by the thrust. you soon came, and again, and again. your body couldn’t fight it as much as your mind wanted it to. “fuck, merry christmas to me” he growled, the grip on your hip tightening. he shouted out as he came and pulled out not so softly. you didn’t know where we went, but you knew he didn’t leave the room. the sound of a camera clicking caught you off guard.

“say cheese, you slut.”

-

taglist:

bucky barnes:

@spicylangdon

dark!fics:

@buckysthot

forever:

@ninamcu

@parker-barnes-af

@jbstans

@anxiousamandapanda

@annavega333

@good-old-fashioned-queens

[theprincesslibrary]

#4: Baleful - Close your eyes

Warning: violence, past trauma, mention of abuse, mention of rape, domestic abuse, blood, torture 

He’s waking up. 

He doesn’t remember much. He was coming home after a night out, drunk and alone, the girls weren’t receptive to his charms. And then nothing. Just darkness and a violent pain at the back of his skull. He’s fully awake now, though his reality looks like a nightmare. His reflection is staring at him from the ceiling, eyes wide from fear. He is strapped to an operating table, naked, unable to move. He doesn't understand why he's here. 

I’d feel bad for him if I didn’t know any better. But I do.

I know what he did to his wife, to his previous girlfriends. I know what type of monster he is. But I’m worse. The saw in my hand is itching to cut, but I can’t start yet. Everything must be done to perfection. So I step out of the shadows and move closer, tape his eyelids open, so he can't close his eyes. Putting that mirror on the ceiling was a real pain in the ass, it’d be a shame if all that work went to waste. I wouldn’t want him to miss the show.

*****

When Thancred reaches the scene everything looks like it did for the previous murders: they still don't have the crime scene, just the dumping area. A godforsaken place where nobody cares what you do or say: welcome to Ul'dah's low town, where the jewel city doesn't shine so brightly. Here only the rule of the three wise monkeys applies: see nothing, hear nothing, and above all shut the fuck up. The perfect place to get rid of a body.

These corpses are not your typical murder victim though: no crime of passion, no hit-and-run. Everything is clean. It’s the third case of the type to end up on his desk, and it's a fucking nightmare. Let’s be clear, the modus operandi is dirty as fuck: shallow cuts all over the body, severed limbs, head cut off… all of that ante mortem, a fucking slaughter. But the scene is fucking spotless, perfectly ordered like a freaking Mog Station warehouse. They don't really have a corpse, more of a human puzzle: the organs and the head sit in separate jars, the limbs are all wrapped up mummy style, personal belongings in a cardboard box... And the cherry on top: not a single witness.  

That’s when Thacred's expertise comes to play. See, a regular cop would harass the lab, call them every 5 minutes, pressure them day and night… be a pain in the as. But not detective Thancred Waters. Nah. He has his way of doing things. He lets the lab rats alone, especially with a scene like that which is as much of a nightmare for them as it is for him. If puzzle number 3 is like its friends, CSI can’t do much for him right now, they need to unpack all that shit, literally. So he leaves them the fuck alone, they’re happy, and when they have something conclusive they call their favorite detective: how far one can go by not being an asshole is astonishing.  

Instead, Thancred likes to interrogate people. Relatives, of course, that’s police work 101, but he pays extra attention to the little monkeys on the streets: the guy no one notices sitting in the corner, the drug dealer in his vintage car, the homeless lady who sleeps here at night. He just knows how to make them talk. It must be his lucky day because he saw his favorite monkey when he arrived at the scene. It would be rude not to check on his old friend, although “friend” might be a bit of a stretch. He met Theodric in Limsa Lominsa, back when he was still a street urchin, stealing purses from unsuspecting passersby. They were in the same band of petty thieves, followed the same path, except one day Thancred targeted Louisoix Leveilleur. Instead of turning him in, the man saw his potential, and took him under his wing. His life changed that day. Theodric wasn’t so lucky. He got involved with the wrong crowd, took the wrong drug, and ended up here, in one of Ul’dah’s worst neighborhoods where not even the refugees dare to come. 

Yeah, not really friends, and considering what he's about to do to him, it's better that way.

 *****

Thancred’s fists hurt from punching Theodric’s ugly face, he needs a break from all that “friendly catching up”. He reaches for a cig and lights it up. Gods, how he loves the taste of tar… finally some stale air to help him breathe. He spares a look to the little monkey slouched against the tainted wall of a shabby restaurant. His face is covered in blood, but he’s not talking. He hates when they stay quiet, he’ll just have to be more explicit. 

“You know Theo, I can call you Theo, right? You know… it’s the weekend for me too. As you can imagine that I have other things to do besides fucking up your hideous face. I'm not asking you to share every tiny detail of your sad existence, I’m not your therapist. I’m not even asking for the name of your dealer. Just tell me who the fuck threw away the mummy. That would make me incredibly happy, I’d be able to go home, have a nice bath, you know, normal people shit.”

Thancred takes another puff from his cigarette and looks down at the man who was once his partner in crime. It’s almost like staring at a twisted version of himself, at the man he would have become without Louisoix. Six months ago, he might have gone easy on Theodric, might have tried to help him out. Six months ago, he would have been the man Louisoix wanted him to be, but that guy died in Lahabrea’s basement. All those months of sequestration and torture did a number on him, fucked him up so bad, his soul died back there. Now he's just this empty shell, pretending to be alive out of spite. Just to say “look at me now, I’m still there”. But he's not, not really.

He draws the last puff from his cigarette and crouches next to Theodric, his face on the same level as the junkie's. The little monkey has one open eye, just one, the other is too fucked up. There’s fear in that one eye, but he’s still not talking. Thancred gets his cig close to Theodric’s good eye, so he can understand what’s going to happen next. He likes to let people understand the rest on their own, it stimulates communication. 

“You might think I hate you Theo, but I don’t. I don’t give two flying fucks about you. But you see, my shrink told me I had to externalize my rage. When you don't talk to me, it pisses me off, so I have to externalize. On your face. You’re not a bad guy, a little drug here, a little dealing there, it’s not that bad. I’m a whiskey guy myself so really who am I to judge? Just tell me who threw this corpse, so I can calm the fuck down. I don’t need to externalize as much and we both go on our merry ways.” 

Thancred punctuates his question by crushing his cigarette's butt on Theo’s arm. His screams echo in the empty street so loudly dogs start to howl, not that anyone cares. Noone would come to his aid, not in this part of town, not when a cop is the one making him scream like a pig. The wise monkey rule reigns supreme. But now he’s in enough pain for Thancred to believe whatever he’s gonna say next. 

“Fuck Waters, I swear I don't know anything. You know me, I'm not that brave, if I knew anything I’d be singing like a fucking canary right now. Please let me go, I promise if I hear something I'll tell you. I swear Waters.”

*****

Theodric looks sincere.

It pisses him off, cause now he’s gonna have to resort to a more classic approach and act like a regular cop: talk to the wife and relatives. He hates to act like a regular cop, hates to talk to the wives. He doesn’t know how to deal with crying people. He used to be good at people skills, he’s not anymore.

He needs a drink. 

He ends up at the Quicksand like always. It’s a second house for all sorts of human trash: bikers, dealers, pimps, him...  

Thancred likes the atmosphere, and the barmaid, Lya. Lya is good. It sounds dumb, but she is. She smiles all the time and listens to everyone’s bullshit without judging. She’s pretty too, beautiful even. When she smiles it's a bit like a breeze blowing over a field of poppy, it shakes him to the core. It shakes up any guy. They all want to throw themselves in her arms and let her lull them to sleep as a mother would. She could turn the most vicious wolf into an obedient little lamb with just one smile. All the guys here come for her: the alcohol tastes like piss, the food is barely decent when it’s not expired, and the walls grow mold. But she's here. They all want her, but no one touches her. She’s broken, they all know that. They might be a bunch of heartless assholes, but they have principles. And Lya is off-limits. Her last boyfriend used to beat her up to a pulp, she still has a scar running down the side of her face. It doesn't take away from her beauty, but it drives him mad with rage.  

One night he was taking a piss behind the bar – mind you the alley’s hygiene is better than the loo inside – he saw the guy slap her, and felt the irrepressible urge to externalize his rage on the asshole’s face, so he did. Repeatedly, until he was the one lying on the ground, pissing himself. They’ve been friends ever since. She listens to his stupid jokes, gives him the best food, stops pouring drinks when she thinks he’s too drunk and smiles at him. She smiles so brightly he feels like a little boy in a candy store, hopeful and fearless.  

She looks out of place in this dirty joint full of heartless assholes, like a porcelain doll forgotten in a construction site, but she’s one of them: damaged. They don’t want to break her, they can all see the cracks in her porcelain skin, so no one touches her. They just pretend, pretend they have a chance, pretend they’re good enough for her. They even play this game where the last guy standing can ask her out. They drink until they either pass out or leave, and only one guy is left. The winner never asks her out, but still, they come every night to drink and dream. 

***** 

I always start with small incisions, quick and superficial. It stings just a little, but not too much. The most important thing is not the pain or the screaming, it’s the fear, the anticipation. It’s a wholesome experience: he gets to feel, see, and smell all of it. People often forget to mention the smell, iron and urea, blood and piss. The mix elicits a primal reaction: run, it says, run. But he can’t. 

*****

It’s Monday and Thancred has an appointment with the third victim’s wife. She looks vaguely familiar, must be from the file or the guy’s belongings. The murderer never bothered to hide his victim's identity. Hell, they even leave a special box for passports and other personal stuff. So yeah, she looks familiar, but he’s been in Ul’dah for a while, so it’s not a surprise. What he can’t stand is the way she's fidgeting on her chair. 

Thancred doesn’t like when the witness fidgets because a regular cop would think ‘hum, that’s suspicious'. Thancred tried being a regular cop once, wasn’t for him, so he stopped, started being an asshole instead with some instinct sprinkled on top, it was a wholesale price. Still, the fidgeting is annoying. And she still looks familiar, more than she should from just a file picture. Thancred can’t put his finger on it. Maybe he fucked her once. He was kind of a womanizer before his life went to shit, before Lahabrea. It doesn’t explain why she’s so nervous, or why she keeps nervously rubbing her arms. Nor does it explain the five layers of clothes. It’s at least 35° out, and she’s out in the sun with a freaking turtleneck. The outrageous makeup has to be the icing on the cake. 

And that’s when it hits him. He knows her, but not from the file, or a one-night stand. She’s from Lya’s support group for battered women. That’s why she’s nervous. Not because he’s her former lover, not even because he’s a cop, but because he’s a man. That’s why number 3’s dead: he was trash like the rest.

"Excuse me for a few minutes."

Thancred gets up and exits the room, leaving the widow alone. He spots Minfilia across the room and strides towards her.

"Hey Min, I'm gonna need you to take this one."

"Why?", she teases, "finally found a widow impervious to your charms?"

"Pretty sure our so-called victim wasn't the loving husband he owed to be."

Understanding flashes on her face, she drops the file she was reading on her desk and follows him to the interrogation room. Relief washes over the widow’s face when she sees Minfilia.

“This is my colleague, Detective Warde. She’s going to take it from here.”

Then he’s out again, leaving the two women alone. He goes to his desk while Min does her thing, and looks for the victim’s name in the database. He doesn’t need to watch Min do her work, he trusts her to get the answers they need. The petite blonde has great people skills, and she’s one of the good ones. She's so good, it's hard not to hate her. He doesn't though, never did, never will. 

She’s one of the few friends he has left, one of the few people to put up with his bullshit after Lahabrea's "incident". He loves her like the little sister he never had, and more than anything he respects her. She's a good friend and a good cop, something this city sorely lacks. Rhabdan runs a tight ship as chief of police, but there's always a few bad apples in the bunch, not Min though. She's one of the good ones, not some disillusioned asshole like him. It's hard to be hopeful in a city like Ul'dah where being rich means one can escape any form of responsibility. Like number 3 here. His wife's medical record is a testament to his behavior: bruised face, broken ribs, even lacerations. It's a miracle the woman is still alive. But her in-laws are rich, and influential: Lolorito's people. That's why Thancred is not so sure he wants to catch the killer, not when they're doing what he's not free to do himself.

When Minfilia is done with the interrogation, she motions for him to join her in the break room. She confirms what Thancred already knows: the guy was an asshole.

He needs a fucking drink. 

*****

First I remove his dick, not like he’s gonna need it anymore. I do this slowly, very slowly. I want him to suffer. This is also what the mirror on the ceiling is for, and the tape on the eyelids, no escape. He must see everything and especially hear everything, the slightest tear of his flesh, the sound of his blood dripping on the sanitized tiles, the scalpel cutting his flesh, my slow breathing. The shock of emasculation makes him pass out. It’s okay, we have all the time. I cauterize his wound, I don't want him to bleed out and die. Not yet.  

*****

Another corpse: emasculated, dismembered, and wrapped up like his buddies. 

Thancred lights another cigarette and crouches down in front of the jar containing the head. He knows this face, he broke that nose: Lya's ex. Suddenly the crime scene doesn't seem ugly anymore, it shines with glitter and shit. It makes him happy to see that stupid face in a jar, means he won't be a problem for Lya anymore. He's also the second "victim" who likes to take out his anger on women, there has to be something there. Thancred needs to take another look at the first three victims, they can't be all that clean.  

He ponders whether he should tell Lya about this. Would that make her happy? It might make her feel better, safer. "By the way, the asshole who used to beat you up is dead, a serial killer took care of it." 

Yeah. Maybe he needed to work on his speech. 

It’s just him and the old Bernie now, playing that secret game of theirs. The old man sends him a dirty look before finally getting up. Thancred wins tonight, and he plans on taking her out for real, not just in his head. It's a lucky day after all, maybe she'll say yes.   

The bar is empty that time around. ‘Good’ he thinks, 'Her smiles will all be mine.'

She’s smiling more than usual, she looks happy even, so he decides not to say anything. She smiles, but she’s seldom happy, no point in ruining the mood. The asshole will be just as dead tomorrow. So he sits at the bar to be closer to her, and drinks while he tells her stupid nonsense. One drink, then a second, and finally a whole bottle.

*****

He waking up again, and we’re back in business. Killing a man isn’t easy work, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. My mom used to tell me: “When things get hard, just put them in different boxes and deal with them one at a time.” So I do just that: I cut him into small pieces, wrap them up, put them in nice little jars.

First his right arm, the one he used to slap his women. I cut just below the elbow, he screams like a piglet being bled out. Then his left arm, all the way up to the shoulder, his legs, and finally his head. 

*****

He wakes up to an empty room. Of course, she’s not here, why would she? She’s in his fantasy, not in his reality. It was such a vivid dream, it left him hard and wanting. He buries his face in the sheets, and he can almost smell her. As if dreams could leave a scent behind. Fucking morning wood. He needs release and a shower, but first, he wants a smoke.

He dreams of Lya that night.

She's riding him like a fierce amazon, her breasts moving to the rhythm of their bodies. Everything about her is erotic, her hungry gaze, her mischievous smile. That smile excites him as much as it soothes him. Fuck, he doesn't want to get out of this dream, but his alarm rings, and the dream is gone.

He walks to the kitchen naked, he lives alone and doesn’t give a fuck about flashing his neighbors. She’s standing in his kitchen, a coffee mug in hand. She’s wearing one of his shirts; it’s a bit too big for her, but too short to be decent. She’s so fucking beautiful wearing his clothes, if he wasn’t hard before, he certainly is now. And then he remembers everything.

She kissed him outside the restaurant, he wouldn’t have dared, but she kissed him. They ended up at his place. They made love on his couch, in the shower, in his bed. He didn’t fuck her, no, he worshiped her: kissed every inch of her skin, licked every freckle. He prayed to her body like a mad man, as much as he could, as much as she let him.

She said yes.

All the alcohol made his brain soft and mushy, but he remembers now. He helped her close the bar, and they went to that new place near his precinct. The one that stays open until 3 am. They talked, he told her he was a cop, she said she knew. It was written in the way he moved, in the way others moved around him. They talked all night long, and she smiled. Gods, that freaking smile got him good. They talked so much, they got kicked out. 

He must look like a fucking idiot now, with that surprised look on his face and his hard cock because she bursts out laughing. A laugh that explodes like fireworks and ricochets against the walls of his apartment, leaving notes of bright colors everywhere. It's crazy how beautiful she is when she laughs. He wants her, needs her.

He strides towards her, lifts her off the floor, and drops her off her gently on the kitchen table. He doesn’t want to break her, doesn’t want to worsen the cracks in her porcelain skin. Then he makes love to her, in the middle of his kitchen, with the blinds open for the world to see. Because he can, because she wants him as much as he wants her. 

***** 

His instinct about the victims being trash was right. 

After some heavy digging in the first two victims’ past, he finds what he needs. Victim number one’s a serial rapist: used to slip roofies in women’s drink, raped them, and filmed the whole thing, threatening to release the tapes if they tried to report him. Not that they would, the guy was filthy rich, another one of Ul’dah’s “cream of the crop”, these women knew they didn’t have a chance to see justice. If it wasn’t for his “barely legal” deep dive in the guy’s personal belongings - he might have stolen his computer after breaking into his parents’ house - Thancred wouldn’t even know about it.

Victim number 2 was no better, he had a long history of domestic violence and child abuse, but no open case, not even a complaint. Now adding number 3 and Lya’s ex to the list… these guys all deserved to die like pigs. He should say it, should even think like that, but he does. He doesn’t even want to catch the culprit, for all he cares they should be free to rid the city of these predators. Should even get paid for doing public service.

Looking at the so-called victim’s file drives him mad with rage. He wants to drink, but more than anything he needs to see Lya; He can even pretend to do police work while he’s at it. She knows at least one of the women, she’s a victim herself, maybe she knows more. 

The Quicksand is packed. He has to share her smile and his time, it annoys him, but it's okay. Tonight she will be his, and his alone. He sits at the bar, she smiles at him, and he’s not mad anymore. He orders whiskey, then another, and another. After the third glass, the rush finally dies down, and they can talk. He tells her about his investigation, and tells her about her ex. She's a little shaken up, but it's okay, she is strong. 

He shows her pictures of the victims, not the one from the autopsy, he’s not that stupid, pretty pictures with happy smiles and perfect lives. Moments of happiness he knows to be fake. He asks her if she knows the victims or their wives, through her support group, or by word of mouth. She nods. She knows the wives of 2 and 3, she talks to them often. She recognizes the last victim, of course, he was her monster. 

Thancred’s curious to know what she thinks about all this, that’s the cop in him, but he’s also worried about how it’ll affect her.

“I don't know… well I do. I know I shouldn't be happy, but I am,” she admits. “I'm a little less afraid.”

He hates that she feels guilty.

“I’m glad he’s dead,” he states, hoping she’ll feel relieved that those words are coming from him. “Now, I know he won’t  prowl you around anymore.”

She smiles softly, and he has the urge to make love to her on the bar, in front of everyone. But he won’t, Lya is a goddess, not a girl who gets fucked in a bar. He’s going to buy her flowers, and maybe a nice bottle of wine. He might even light some candles to set the mood, then he’s gonna make love to her, again and again until they both pass out in blissful exhaustion.

*****

I dispose of his body in one of the city’s garbage dumps. It’s the perfect place to get rid of a body. And this open sky trash dump is perfect for me: exactly what this trash deserves. The people who live here all look dead, the only thing that sets them apart from my guy is the steady movement of their hearts. That, and the fact that they’re all in one piece, for the most part.

*****

Reports come back on Lya’s ex.

Toxicology’s clean, no head trauma either, he wasn’t drugged or incapacitated like the others. He might have known his assailant. The rest of the report looks similar at first glance, cuts all over the body, severed limbs, emasculation, beheading. It’s the same MO but somehow it feels messier: the body shows hesitation marks, the cuts are deeper, meant to hurt... it feels more personal, like an act of revenge. 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

*****

He opens up his flat’s door and practically runs towards the kitchen. He needs a drink before seeing Lya. It can’t be her, when she smiles the ground shakes, she turns wolves into lambs. She’s so small, with soft porcelain skin, tiny hands… It can’t be her, yet his guts tell him otherwise.

He’s halfway in the kitchen when he spots her. She’s waiting for him, his backup gun in those tiny hands of hers. When he dreamt of coming home to her that’s not what he had in mind.

 She’s smiling at him, a sad little smile because she doesn’t want to kill him, not really. He might be an asshole but he doesn’t hurt women. Maybe she likes him too. She’s crying now, tears rolling down her beautiful face. It’s stupid but he still wants to throw himself in her arms. It’s stupid because she’s going to kill him. 

She’s gonna try anyway. 

*****

Gunshots echo in the room, followed by the loud thud of a lifeless body hitting the ground.

[faroutgardengirl]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Fitz & Floyd Holiday Musical Figurine Arctic Santa - 'O Holy Night'.