#been thinking a lot about postal recently

[jessicas-pi]

Dad Vader (But He's Got The Wrong Son) AU thoughts, part three

part one || part two

So, picking up where we left off!

After completing the most stressful mission of his life, Kanan takes a deep breath, says a polite goodbye to the Sith Lord, his son, and the random and apparently unrelated girl tagging along with them, and returns back to normal, Sith-free life...

...for all of two weeks.

See, what happened is this.

After they part ways with the Spectres, Vader brings Ezra and Sabine back to Lothal, scolding them thoroughly for getting caught up in a Rebel plot ("But, Dad, you helped with the Rebel plot!") and disappearing without a trace. He threatens to ground them from vandalism permanently, but after they promise to be very very careful and not go anywhere with strangers again, Vader begrudgingly allows Ezra and Sabine to go cause more chaos. Except, now that they've been seen with known Rebels, they've gone from a nuisance to a threat in the eyes of the Empire, and a bunch of stormtroopers ambush the kids.

In the following mad dash to get away, a stray blaster bolt knocks Sabine down. She's got her armor, she's fine, she just face-planted in the dirt and the only thing damaged is her dignity, but Ezra doesn't know that. All he knows is that Sabine just went down.

Sabine. Who is his hero. And his best friend. She's awesome, and she's amazing, and he looks up to her, and he might be kind of in love with her, he's not sure yet, but even if he's not, he definitely worships the ground she walks on, and--most importantly--she's one of the two people in the galaxy he would kill for without hesitation.

And in the heat of the moment, he forgets that the first lesson she gave him in Having A Moral Compass That's Not Just Doing Whatever Vader Does was that murder is an absolute last resort and not the go-to plan in most situations.

To put it mildly, Ezra goes postal.

It takes a stun bolt from Sabine's own blaster to stop him. She throws him over her shoulder and gets out of there as fast as she can, feeling a strange combination of nausea and fury.

She's had moments of doubt over Vader's total disinterest in reigning in his son's temper, but this takes it to another level. No decent parent would raise their child to think that it was okay to do something like THAT.

Ezra regains consciousness in time to hear Sabine reading Vader the riot act over his parenting techniques.

Vader would, under usual circumstances, ignore everything she's saying, but when she finishes her speech by snapping that someday, Ezra's gonna end up hurting his own friends if he doesn't get ahold of his temper, it makes him stop. Because she's right. She's really really right.

"...yes," Vader says, after a long pause in which he spends several seconds being very sad about his dead wife. "That will most likely be the case."

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?!" Sabine demands.

Vader thinks a bit, and comes to the conclusion that (a) okay, admittedly, the Jedi probably were onto something with their bit on emotional regulation, and (b) oh boy he's gotta get his kid to a Jedi.

Obi-Wan would be Vader's first choice, frankly, because he was an obnoxiously good Jedi, but Obi-Wan's not here right now and he probably wouldn't be inclined to train a junior inquisitor anyway.

Thankfully, Vader did just meet a Jedi recently, so he grabs his kids and hunts down the Spectres... just in time for the Grand Inquisitor to make his appearance.

Vader yells at him to go away.

"Please," Ezra adds politely.

"And thank you," Sabine snarks.

The Grand Inquisitor makes himself scarce, and Vader turns to Kanan.

"I need you to train my son."

"...huh?"

"My son. I need you to train him to be in control over his emotions."

"...huh??"

Ezra, staring down at the floor and looking remarkably like a guilty puppy under the force of Sabine's judgmental glare, mumbles, "I... did... a thing."

"He tried to kill a lot of people," Sabine specifies. "We need you to fix him, because right now, his reaction to me getting hurt is to dismember everyone who tried to hurt me, and not check and see if I'm okay."

Kanan is understandably VERY wary of training this kid, but also, he probably shouldn't be left UNtrained. So... ??

Vader sees the need to sweeten the deal, and offers a salary and, when that doesn't quite work, Sabine pipes up and suggests he throw in amnesty for Kanan and the rest of the Spectres.

Vader actually considers this.

"But they're Rebels," he points out. "They're just going to go back to... rebelling... or whatever it is they do."

"They free Wookiee slaves!" Ezra says, perking up. "What if they promised to just do that and stop doing... other... rebelling... things?"

"Well..." Vader says. "Maybe..."

Hera (who is also there, and intrigued by the situation) leans in, eyes narrowing. "We also get to run relief missions to other planets."

"Doesn't seem like a bad idea to me," Sabine shrugs.

"Yeah! And they can hang out with us in the comm tower when they're not busy!" Ezra grins.

Vader caves in with a sigh. "Fine. But they can't kill Stormtroopers anymore."

"What about when they try to kill us?!"

"If you're paying them, then they work for the Empire, right?" Ezra asks Vader. "Just make them outrank the stormtroopers and the other officers who get in the way all the time. They they can do whatever they want. Make them in charge of a relief corps of something!"

"Son, I cannot simply invent a new division of the Imperial government--"

"Sure you can," Sabine interrupts. "You're Darth Vader. Who's going to stop you?"

Vader can't deny that she's got a point, but he did NOT intend for this conversation to end with him hiring known Rebels, much less putting them in charge of some kind of newly-invented Imperial Relief Corps. He was going to pay one (1) Jedi to teach his son how to not fly into a murderous rage. That's it.

But it's too late. Ezra and Sabine have both latched onto the idea--Ezra, because he thinks the Spectres are cool and it'll be okay to be friends with them if they don't technically count as rebels anymore, and Sabine, because she wants to stick it to the Empire, and making KNOWN ENEMIES OF STATE into IMPERIAL OFFICERS and then making them OUTRANK the other imperial officers is just too good an opportunity to give up.

"Fine... but you have to wear Imperial uniforms," Vader says smugly. (If they're in Imperial uniforms, then any good they do is ultimately credited back to the Empire. HA!)

"I'm not wearing an Imperial uniform!" Zeb (who is also there) snarls. "They killed my people!"

Ezra speaks before Vader can. "Perfectly understandable. You don't have to. But Kanan and Hera will. Sound good?"

Kanan and Hera are about to say that they are NOT wearing Imperial uniforms under ANY CONDITIONS when Sabine slides in smoothly.

"AND, since they've got to outrank anyone who might get in their way, their uniforms should be a different color than all the other ones!"

"Beige," Vader says.

"Orange," Sabine counters.

"I like orange," Ezra seconds.

Neither Vader, Kanan, Hera, nor Zeb know how it happens, but by the time they part ways, Ezra and Sabine have talked them all into a deal where Hera is the Chief Officer of the Imperial Relief Corps, the Spectres have full authority to do basically whatever they want as long as it involves improving people's lives, and the Ghost has official clearance to refuel at any and all Imperial Fuel Depots.

And their uniforms are going to be bright orange. Eye-catchingly orange. Obnoxiously orange.

(Rebel orange.)

to be continued...

[martyryo]

Dudes from maths notes is all I can offer for now 😵‍💫

[clazaries]

Just a Neighbour Thing

(MarcSpector! x f!reader)

Summary: Your neighbour Marc Spector is a pain in your ass. Until he saves your life. w/c: 3.9k Warnings: a lil bit of violence but nothing too graphic. Fluff! a/n: I'll be posting a masterlist soon because I think I've got about three or four fics out now and a few to come!

Marc Spector is an elusive character. A man of very few words and an enigmatic personality - not that you know him well enough to judge his character - but from the rare occasions where your paths crossed in your apartment building, it can be summed up with a small smile from you and a smouldering glare from him. Often aloof, the opportunity to get to know him better as a neighbour never seems to present itself and it leaves you struggling to understand who’s to blame. It’s obvious personal defects are the cause; but his or yours? 

There’s been many occasions where you’ve had to confront his brick-wall disposition, mostly due to the fact that his ringer on the main lobby doesn’t work, so naturally people go for the next best option which is to press the ringer directly below it: yours. You deliberately leave his mail to accumulate at your door until it becomes an unavoidable mound of tax letters, local advertisements and rent notifications and only then do you brave the trip to the apartment above to deliver his post. 

It’s always the same. You knock on the door in a rhythmic pattern that’s become yours. Within seconds he answers the door with the same cold expression, wordlessly takes his mail no matter how hard you try to start up a conversation and before long, you’re staring face to face with the shabby wooden surface of his door. The only thing that changes with each encounter are the clothes that he wears. Different but fairly relative to his style. Purely functional and never dressed for any occasion.

You didn’t mind it for a while. There was some satisfaction and fulfilment to be found while doing your neighbourly duties and despite the fact that there was every possibility he wouldn’t do it for you, you weren’t someone who held a grudge or felt like they had ever been owed a favour. But the mailman had happened upon you on a very bad day and you didn’t feel like accepting his parcel. You had recently been made redundant after the company you worked for did a reshuffling of working positions and yours wasn’t to be included in the new phase they had turned over. So you wallowed at home, watched numerous brain-rotting films, ate a load of junk food and drank lots of wine. 

It was nothing personal towards the mailman when he chapped on your door and demanded a signature for Marc’s parcel, but you couldn’t pretend to be the ‘lovely-neighbour-from-downstairs’ any longer. 

“This is for 8B upstairs. Says there.”

“I know. I can read,” the mailman grumbles, “but I tried knocking on his door but there wasn’t an answer. The parcel needs to be left with someone and you’re the nominated designee.” 

“Can’t you just leave it with another neighbour?” 

“No, says it needs to be left with you.” 

You look at the large rectangular box and consider it. Aside from Marc’s address scribbled on the top, the box is littered with numerous stamps from various international postal services, few you recognize. It looks to be well travelled and handled with very little care yet there’s nothing to suggest what’s inside. With a sigh, you take it from the mailman. It could be important, especially if it’s gone through so many countries to get here and the fact that you would be to blame if it got stolen or damaged. “Fine, I’ll take it.” 

The mailman looks to his feet where a growing pile of letters addressed to Marc starts to spill over into the threshold of your apartment, judgement washing over his features. “Do you…do you normally take all of his mail as well?” 

“Do me a favour? If you ever see the guy from 8B, tell him to come collect his fucking mail.” 

There’s a part of you that feels slightly bad for the mailman when you slammed the door in his face, but then you remember that if Marc stopped being so fucking immature about answering his own door to receive his mail, then you wouldn’t need to feel bad about anything. You leave the parcel sitting on your hallway table, waiting for the day Marc grows some responsibility and asks you for it. 

~~~~

When you placed the parcel on the hallway table, you didn’t expect that it would be sitting there for over a week collecting dust, nor did you expect the curiosity of what’s inside to completely consume you. You walked past it every time you left or entered your apartment. It was in the corner of your eye every time you sat in the living room. It practically radiated temptation every time you took notice of it, screamed at you like it was begging to be opened and you had to force your grubby hands to keep still and not reach for it. But you so desperately wanted to know what was inside. Why was it so conspicuous? Why has it suddenly become the most interesting thing in your apartment?

Perhaps Marc was testing you, sending you a little something of no importance to experiment with your curiosity and test whether or not he could trust to leave you with his personal belongings like he does with his letters. That’s certainly what it felt like by the turn of day eight of the parcel being there and you simply refused to be a rat in his experiment. 

That determination lasted for two whole days before it started to truly pester you. It was starting to get in the way and it felt as though it was getting impossibly bigger and bigger. On day nine you were ready to break it, smash it against every wall, rip every piece of cardboard that keeps it together and deliver it in that state to Marc yourself. From your sofa you stood, eyeing the parcel as if it was taunting you and with adrenaline thrumming through your veins, you stomped towards it. Hands outstretched, you were ready to throw it in any direction but something stopped you at the very last second. Something peculiar and completely out of the ordinary. You halted just centimetres out of reach from the parcel, centimetres out of reach from your door where you could hear the whispers of two or three men right outside. You could see the moulds of their bodies through the peephole. 

“Look, I’m telling you he lives here-”

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. All his mail is sitting here. It’s definitely the right apartment. The parcel is in there.” 

The parcel. They’re here for the parcel. 

“C’mon let’s get this over with. He’ll be back soon. Where’s the crowbar?” 

In the very few heart-stopping, crucial seconds you have before anything happens, you quickly banish all hysteria and muster all rationality and flip over the keyless lock and quietly shuffle away from the door with the parcel in hand. You estimate you have about 15 seconds before they make any headway of getting into your apartment, not enough time for you to hide, but enough time to hide Marc’s parcel. After all, that’s what they are here for. With your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes scan over every nook and cranny of your apartment, quickly assessing each spot based on how likely the intruders are to find it and with the seconds dwindling into single digits, you make a snappy, slightly reckless decision. There’s a ledge just outside your kitchen window where you occasionally leave out some seeds for the birds and you think it’s just low enough that the parcel won’t be seen from the window. It’s risky but you’re running out of time, you have to move. 

Scrambling over counter tops and at the sacrifice of knocking over a few utensils, you manage to wrestle the window open and precariously place the box on the window ledge. It’s risky. The ledge isn’t wide and it’s windy, but whatever is in the parcel is just heavy enough that it stays rooted to the spot. 

Pulling back, your hand grazes the handle of a kitchen knife which, now that the intruders have made their way into your apartment, seems like a good idea to have. 

They round the corner into your living room and immediately start looking for the parcel, noticing you only a few seconds into their search. You point the knife in their direction standing courageously but your wavering breath tells a different story.

The three of them turn towards you from where they stand, and given their expressions, they are just as shocked to see you here than you are to see them. You weren’t supposed to be a variable in their plan. They were supposed to be burglarizing Marc’s empty apartment. Not yours. 

The two taller brown-haired men have similar features and builds, almost identical and you begin to wonder if they are twins. Brothers at the very least. But it’s the ageing stout man standing where the living room and kitchen divide who stares you down. He’s dressed smartly in a tweed suit with a golden pocket watch hanging from his waist coat, the type of man who doesn't like to get his hands dirty, because of course, that job belongs to the bulky twins behind him. This is a man who loves to watch it as it happens. He’s more business than manual labour. 

His facial features morph from shock to something sinister, his lips twisting into a smile that’s as greasy as the hair on his head as if the cruellest of ideas just crossed his mind. 

“I didn’t know Marc had a girlfriend,” he sneers. 

“He doesn’t,” you snarl, aiming the knife directly at him with two hands. “He doesn’t even live here either.”

“Oh, so his mail just gets delivered here on a daily basis?” The man hovers over to your coffee table and picks up multiple letters addressed to Marc, the ones that were delivered last week and remained there because of your stubborn nature. 

Okay, not off to a great start. “He doesn’t live here.”

He grins but it falls flat a split second later. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Now where is he?”

“I don’t know because he doesn’t live here.”

“Bullshit. Where. Is. He?”  

“Not here. I’m not afraid to use this knife.”

“Oh, not from there you won’t. Let me help you with that.” The man crosses the space between you in three long strides until you’re pressed flat against the counter and the point of the knife grazes the tip of his waist coat. The audacity of this man is staggering. “Save yourself the hassle and tell me where Marc is.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where he is! Now get the fuck out of my apartment. Whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.”

“And have you call the cops on us? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out to grab you, and he almost does, but with your quick reflex swinging the knife around, you knick the palm of his hand. The man stumbles backwards with a pained yelp, watching the blood seep from his hand and drip onto your kitchen tiles, enraged that you would even do such a thing. Despite your heart racing and the slightly dizzy feeling of adrenaline raging through your veins, you stand strong, holding the knife even higher in warning. 

“You bitch. Boys!” He shouts and the two brothers come running to his side, sizing you up. “Tie her up. We’re not leaving without that package and I’m certain she knows where it is.” 

It was easy enough to defend yourself against this puny man with a knife, but against two brutes who manhandle you as if you are lamb for slaughter, you don’t stand a chance. Relentless, you squirm and wriggle and fight to get out of their grasp, and while you had accepted that you were fighting a losing battle, there’s still some pride to be had about how hard you made it for them. Rather than tying you up unscathed, Thing 1 ties your hands with a bloody, swollen nose and Thing 2 ties your ankle with a forming black eye and a bruise developing on his ribs. 

With you strapped to the chair, they stuff a gag in your mouth to dim your screams while they scramble to ransack your apartment, turning it upside down to find the fucking parcel Marc left you with. After 15 minutes passes by, your home is a riot; furniture broken, plates, mugs and bowls smashed, everything you own on the floor. 

“Boss, it ain’t here. We’re searched everywhere.”

“It has to be!” The stout man shouts, eyes glaring at you enraged. He crouches down, fiery ageing eyes level with yours. He rips the gag out of your mouth and presents a new threat. A razor sharp knife, gleaning in the light as he holds it directly in front of your face. “For the last time. Where is the parcel?!” 

“I am telling you. I don’t know,” you spit, trying with all your might to sound as convincing as possible. “I don’t know what parcel you’re talking about. I don’t know where Marc is--I don’t even know the guy! And he sure as shit doesn’t live here. And if any of you had half a brain to actually read the letters will realise that his address is the floor above me. He never answers his fucking door and that’s why I have all his mess at my door.” 

The guy jabs the point of his knife underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards. A nauseous feeling stirs in your stomach, raising your body temperature and conjuring a little bead of sweat to drip from your hairline. Your teeth clamp down onto the inner lining of your cheek, hoping, praying, pleading for someone to burst through your door and save you.

You can’t see anything change within the man in front of you, not taking your word for gospel and the more frustrated he becomes, the more danger faces you. Temperament rising, the man grunts and knicks the skin of your chin, splicing the skin open. “Argh, fuck!” 

“Marc might not live here, but we know the parcel was delivered! And if you do end up with all his mail then it should be here. Now stop lying to me, you little bitch, and tell me where the fucking parcel is or you are going end up with a lot worse than a cut to your chin.” 

You watch in horror as he presses the edge of the knife over your wrist tied to the armrest of the chair and no amount of squirming can break the ties. Fuck, please tell me that I’m not going to lose a limb over a fucking parcel…

Tears pool in the corner of your eyes, your brave facade failing. You’re absolutely terrified

“I’ll give you some context then. That parcel contains something I want, an ancient Egyptian artefact that contains unimaginable power and would bring me a lot of wealth, and Marc Spector has no business taking it from me--” So that’s Marc’s surname. “And unless you want to keep your thieving hands, you’ll tell me where it is.” 

As he begins to press the knife’s sharp edge down onto your skin, you start to consider the depravity of the situation, the truth finding its way to your lips. There’s nothing more you want than for this to all be over, to be wrapped up warm and safe in your bed but you can’t shake the arrogance of this guy and his stooges, busting in here like he is entitled to, making a mess of your home, harming you, all to take something that was clearly meant for Marc, all because he thought it would be better with him than with Marc. 

No. Fuck that.

“I. Don’t. Know.” A glob of saliva gathers on your tongue and you spit it into the face of your capture, because if your words can’t send the message, hopefully that will. 

“You should believe her, by the way.” A voice emerges from behind you and simultaneously, all three men turn towards your front door in stupor. You try to twist your head over your shoulder as far as you can to catch a glance but he’s just out of your sight, however you don’t need to wait long before you get confirmation of who is standing at your door. 

“Marc Spector,” your captur states. “Finally.”

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in my neighbour’s apartment?”

“For the very same reason why you’re here, Marc. The parcel. Our parcel. The one you stole.” 

Marc snickers. Having gone so long without seeing what a smile looks like on his face, you’re itching to turn around and see him, but you only get as far as Thing 2 who stands with your back to you, blocking your view. “Torturing women for information? Tsk, tsk, that’s a little beneath your remit Donald, is it not? You’re wasting your time. I have the parcel locked up in storage.” An obvious lie, but not obvious enough to them. “She’s got nothing to do with it. In fact, I don’t even know her.” 

“I don’t care who I have to go through to get what is mine, whether it’s her or you, I will have it by the time the day is up. Boys!”

“Your mistake.”

In the space of a second, the three men in front of you disappear and you’re left to stare at the vast emptiness of your white walls as chaos erupts behind you. Grunts and groans of pain are spliced in between the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown, furniture breaking, bones crunching and bodies thumping to the ground, all of which you try to drown out by hunching your shoulders over your ears and closing your eyes. 

After suspenseful minutes of fighting, it’s clear one man stands victorious. Who? You don’t know. Aside from worrying about what kind of state of your apartment would be left in, you have no idea who you’ve been left in the apartment with and the likelihood of Marc succeeding against three men is slim and the anticipation is killing you.

At last, when a fully mummified figure with white glowing eyes kneels in front of you, you’re taken aback. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” His hand comes to tilt your head gently, inspecting the small cut to your chin with a small tut.

“...Marc?”

The mask that covers his face dissipates to reveal the Marc you recognise, looking more worried than you had ever thought he was capable of. He begins to make quick work of your bounds, easily ripping through them with a single fingertip where all the strength in your arms couldn’t. 

“What the…”

“It’s a lot to explain. I promise, I’ll explain later. Are you hurt? Are you alright? They didn’t do anything terrible to you, did they? Fuck. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry-”

“Marc, hey, I’m okay. Just a little shaken up I think.” Now free, you come to stand in front of Marc who, weirdly enough, seems to don this mummified Egyptian regalia as a suit of armour. You remember this ‘Donald’ guy mentioning something about an ancient Egyptian artefact and you assume it has to be related to whatever Marc is wearing. You even try to mention it, but you can’t seem to get a word in with Marc fussing over your safety and blaming himself for any harm that Donald and his men have caused you as he gently dabs the blood away from your chin. After futile attempts, you decide to leave it be, marvelling over the new Marc as he carefully handles you with care despite having treated you with such indifference up until a few minutes ago. 

Donald and his two bodyguards lie unconscious (...or dead?) on your apartment floor and you look over them with satisfaction, Marc’s unparalleled strength no match for them. Marc quietly lingers behind you, observing them over your shoulder with a similar resolve until he notices the complete disarray surrounding them. 

“Sorry about the mess.” 

You chuckle lightheartedly. “I’m just glad you came when you did. They got what they deserved.”

“Look,” he pulls you away from them to lock eyes, sincerity twinkling in his irises, “I really am sorry. I thought I was careful enough to not get anyone involved in my mess, but I guess I was wrong.” 

You crunch your eyebrows together, recollecting every instance of Marc giving you the cold shoulder. You always thought he was just an unfriendly neighbour, someone who had no interest in anyone but himself, who viewed everyone as an inconvenience. But it was his safeguard, his way of not letting anyone he knew or cared about come into harm. “So you being an asshole was on purpose?” 

“Completely. It was nothing personal.”

“I see,” you sigh, but with a gentle bump of shoulders, you add “I could’ve helped you, you know. You just needed to ask.” 

He shakes his head dejectedly. “It would’ve been too much of a risk.” 

“More of a risk than not asking me? I still got caught up in the crossfire anyway, if I had known why, or at least expected it, I could’ve been better prepared. I don’t need to know what trouble you got yourself into or what shady business you run, but I’m not just your neighbour, I could’ve been a friend if you had allowed me.” 

“It had never worked out for me in the past. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.” 

“Okay, I get it. You’re forgiven. But Marc? A word of advice for the future? Just answer your fucking mail then maybe, just maybe, I won’t need to be dragged into all of this again, yeah? They thought you lived here.” You pick up a handful of unopened letters addressed to him and bluntly shove them against his chest with an appointed look and smirk. 

He reciprocates the smile with less enthusiasm and turns his attention to your door. “Speaking of, I’ve got a very important parcel I need to track down. I actually have no idea where it is. I can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”

“About that.” You don’t say another word as you lead him to your kitchen window, awkwardly mounting your counter to reach for the parcel lying just outside your window. As soon as you bring it into view, Marc’s face lights up like you’ve never seen before. 

“You had it?! This whole time?! I heard you tell them you didn’t have it!” 

“I’ve had it for weeks, actually. Those clowns didn’t exactly take the quiet approach when breaking into my flat so I knew what they were here for. I just had enough time to hide it before they came in. And I can be quite the convincing liar when I need to be.” 

Marc quickly discards the parcel, throwing it onto the kitchen counter before throwing his arms around you, knocking the air out of you and squeezing tightly like his life depended on it. “You…are an angel. I can’t thank you enough.”

The two of you embrace for longer than what’s normal between two neighbours, partly in Marc’s resounding appreciation and partly because it feels nice. 

“In all honesty, I was two seconds from opening the parcel myself. The curiosity was killing me.” Marc’s laughter shakes his body, his warmth slowly leaving you as he draws back. 

“I can show you if you want. I figure you’ll be needing a place to stay while we get your apartment cleaned up. It’s the least I can offer for all the trouble I’ve put you through.” 

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

[box-off]

Hey guys, as much as I HATE internet drama and personally have a lot of stuff to worry about in real life instead of wasting my time here, discussing WHATEVER. I have to come here and talk about this.

First of all, I personally LOVE postal. All of the games, I own merch of it, I own the games, I even own the movie. I drew and will draw a lot of stuff about the game. I enjoy playing it, I enjoy creating for it, I just like it. And when I came around here I was pretty excited, there were a lot of people who share my interests and there still are BUT there's a bit of a problem.

I haven't been posting much stuff related to the games, mostly because I just didn't have time and I do other stuff that is not always related. And while I was away I kinda started noticing a bit of a shift in the fandom, maybe it's just me watching it from the perspective of someone who doesn't interact with it that much by now, but damn it does feel strange.

I'm going to dedicate this post to my dear @mayonnara, and if you want to see their point of view on this, please go check their recent posts.

True crime. True crime is interesting, if you think about it well enough, all human history is true crime but there's a bit difference between "Wow, this story is interesting, I wonder how that happened" and "Wow, those guys are hot and thanks to that we'll dismiss what they did, which is, killing people". You guys??? Are dumb. Sorry to say it, but don't put people who are genuinely interested in just crimes that happened and idiots who worship killers. I don't like when people worship real life people in general, but come on, those people specifically?? Why not go for Hitler straight away? He killed more people! Go to a fucking cult if you need to worship weird people so bad.

On other hand, you're not welcomed in the Postal community. When you enter any of the games the first thing you see is.... drum roll... A DISCLAIMER. That says what? "No violence in real life", "violence should stay in video games", and hey, did we all forget what is one of the reasons postal redux doesn't end the same way postal 1997 ends? Guys... sorry to tell you this... The devs DO NOT like people like you.

Reminds me a lot of how some smart-ass decided to make an edgy joke about a worker from RWS who had a really serious health problem. The game might be edgy, the RWS made it that way, yes. But I doesn't mean they enjoy you dumb fucking idiots who think that what is normal in a fictional world is okay in real life. Sick and twisted all you want, but have some dignity, keep your bullshit to yourself

[sil3ntfr34k]

(I’ve been losing my fucking mind recently)

All Postal Dudes Thoughs

Postal 1 Dude is so fucking scared all the time. Like he hardly ever has truly quiet moments where he’s completely relaxed. Champ does help here and there with his anxiety, but an unknowing dog can only do so much.

To keep up with the timeline of Postal 1 Dude and Postal 2 Dude having champ, The original Champ with Postal 1 Dude is the father of Postal 2 Champ. Postal 2 Champs actual name is Champ Jr., but Postal 2 Dude just calls him Champ bc he forgets about the Jr. part😔

The Postal Dudes have not bought their Champs a toy in years bc they know Champ will just tear it apart in milliseconds. Instead, they just find random dog toys outside (steal them from backyards) or a stray ball to give to Champ. They don’t even clean it off or anything, they just give it to him as it

Postal Dudes don’t like video games, but they still appreciate the arcade. They don’t spend a lot of time there, but they’ll play games for at least 10 minutes before getting bored again.

All Postal Dudes have some form of schizophrenia. Postal 1 dude is the worst of them all, having delusional thoughts, hearing quiet whispering voices, seeing strange objects or movement just out the corner of his eye, and having extreme social anxiety with paranoia. Postal 2 Dude has the potential to be as bad as Postal 1 Dude, but they come more in episodes than having them present all the time. Postal 2 Dude is also able to go into public without worry unlike Postal 1 Dude, yet the paranoia will still hit. Postal 4 Dude has it the ‘easiest’, only having quiet distance voices and small amounts of social anxiety, but he’s able to control it the best. (I don’t know enough about postal 3 or postal brain damaged I’m thorry 😔)

All Postal Dudes had a very small phase where they liked to dress up Champ. For like a week, Champ had a mini wardrobe of jackets, shirts, hats, and even sunglasses. Champ actually didn’t mind it, he was just happy to be included. If you knew the Postal Dudes during this phase, you could walk into the front yard and Champ would greet you in a very nice shirt with a small pair of sunglasses and a hat.

All Postal Dudes have vocal stims. Postal 1s is small bird chirps, Postal 2s is “WakaWaka” (Pac-Man), and Postal 4 is “Boomshakalaka”. They are all old if you couldn’t tell…

(All I can think of rn, very small 😔)

[xomakara]

Harvesting Hearts

SUMMARY | Kun, the newest resident of Neo Valley, helps you harvest the crops for this year's harvest festival and ends up developing feelings for you.

PAIRINGS |  Kun x Reader

RATING |  SFW

GENRE |  SFW, Fluff, western au, country farming au, romance, we're country farming ya'll

CONTENT/WARNINGS | none really. Unless you count a crop stealing sheep lol

LENGTH |  6,418 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  hi all~ been a while since I wrote anything for Kun haha. This is written for kvanity's fall event and the prompts I used were:

Autumn Salad — You need a lot of help to harvest this year’s crops for the fall festival, so you hire the new stranger that recently moved into town.

Apple Cider — "I’m not scared…as long as you’re here with me, everything is okay."

thank you @hobeemin for the lovely banner and divider! And thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading this! This was inspired by Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons and any other farm sim games. Happy reading folks!

Ah, fall. 

It's already that time of year as you leaned against the railings on your front porch that overlooked the crops in your farm fields below. In the back of your mind, a feeling of accomplishment arose; your farm has truly begun to prosper, a year after taking up residence here. With it came an abundance of other emotions: relief that your hard work had paid off so well, happiness that you could now help provide food and fodder for the entire town. It was a new chapter in your life, a new step toward self sufficiency and stability. It was even better since there were so many wonderful people you were able to call neighbors, and there were so many nice creatures living nearby as well. You tilted your head and smiled when the memory of a white fluffball toddled in your mind's eye.

Before that thought could carry on, you heard someone call your name. With a confused expression, you stepped around the railing and searched until you spotted a flash of blue bouncing its way down the path. After a moment, you recognised who it was.

"Jungwoo? What's up?" you greeted. The man greeted you with an equally joyful hello of his own as he caught his breath at your gate, his blue postman vest unbuttoned and swaying behind him.

"Heya Y/N! Not too much today," Jungwoo began casually, resting his elbow onto the gate. "It's been quiet on the postal side, but I got somethin' for ya! Here!"

He excitedly flipped the blue straps across his shoulder, then proceeded to rummage through the bulging postman bag, chuckling a bit in the process. He searched some more, letting out a triumphant laugh before withdrawing a small yellow package, with a decorative sun drawn onto its wrappings.

"Bingo!" Jungwoo said triumphantly, placing the yellow package into your outstretched hands. It was kind of lumpy, but felt sturdy too.

"What did she send me this time?" you cocked your head to the side, looking at the package that your older sister had sent over for what seemed the millionth time. 

Your big sis and fellow city dweller loved sending care packages for you, despite your many protests, which seemed to spur her on even more. So, her last letter had prompted a bigger shipment; full of food, utensils, clothes and other "necessities" to help ease the transition into your new life as a farmer. If there was one thing your big sis was, it was resourceful. You couldn't help but smile with affectionate annoyance, thinking about how sweet it was of her to support you on your own terms like this.

"Oh yeah!" Jungwoo jumped, hitting his forehead a bit. "Forgot to mention that we have a new person moving into town next week. Mayor Taeyong told me this morning so that I can pass along the message to everyone during my rounds."

"Neat," you replied. "New farmer? Rancher?"

"Not really sure," Jungwoo hummed, tapping his chin. "Mayor Taeyong just said that he was gonna settle here and that he’s gonna have the empty property next to yours."

"Oh? That's good since Yangyang and I need some friendly competition," you remarked cheekily. Your farm neighboured a luscious field full of sheep, cows and chickens owned by Yangyang, a lovely rancher with a mischievous streak and a love for cute fluffy things. It was an adorable pairing to behold and witness every morning when the flock ambled from Yangyang's property over to yours to graze, as he made his morning greetings to the animals with his chirpy personality and sunny smile.

"Ah, true," Jungwoo agrees, snickering quietly. "Well, I gotta go and continue my deliveries. Catch you later Y/N."

With an eager nod, you watch him zip away, once again on another route, delivering precious mail. Turning around, you settle into the rocking chair and start peeling away at the wrappings, eyes glittering with eagerness to see what your sister has sent you this time. With the package peeled open and the contents removed, you smiled as you clutched the set of leather gardening gloves that you'd mentioned in passing, but forgot in your hurry to move into town a year ago. Alongside the gloves was an equally soft shawl to protect you from the elements when you needed to do chores or check on the crops after the sun had gone to sleep.

You looked over to your crops, spotting a familiar fluffy, white sheep trotting with a wedge of vegetables cradled in its mouth and when it's eyes met yours, tried to make a beeline back towards Yangyang's fields. It was a common occurrence, really, this particular sheep would always take one vegetable from your plot every now and then, and would parade it around town in its mouth. There was something just so funny and endearing about the creature that you didn't feel the need to punish it or stop it. Everyone always got a laugh seeing a little sheep march through town with a head of lettuce or bunch of corn clamped between its jaws. Even Yangyang stopped reprimanding it, seeing that it would sneak out and continue the habit no matter what.

You decided to allow yourself a little rest, before packing away the treasures and going back to work in the fields. You slipped on the pair of warm gloves, pleased that the interior was lined with something warm and soft, and your worries of blisters were minimized. You could definitely tell that these gloves would be comfortable to wear all day long. Making your way down the steps, you admired the gloves for a moment and turned your attention to your little friend that was prancing in front of the fence. It seemed excited today, hopping to and from different areas of the field, still holding its "prize".

"Fluffy, are you going to take that beet and go into town?" you inquired. 

The sheep always seemed to understand what you and others had to say, judging by its reactions. The little animal gave an affirmative bleat, continuing its merrymaking. Chuckling, you bent down, stroking the sheep between the ears affectionately.

"What did you take from Y/N's farm this time, you little rascal?" you heard Yangyang ask from his side of the fence, laughing. He had opened the gate between your lands and was sauntering over to the pair of you. When Fluffy heard his voice, it quickly bounced over and deposited its prize at his feet. Yangyang picked it up, observing the beet carefully before looking at you and then the sheep, eyebrows lifted.

"Hm," he mused. "A beet this time. Good job. Now go show it off like you usually do."

With another "bah", the little white sheep set off with the beet in its mouth, bounding towards town with newfound vigor. You and Yangyang both stared at it, amused as you both shared a chuckle at its behavior.

"That silly little guy really seems to enjoy showing off your crops," Yangyang snorted, leaning against the fencepost. "Even with the other sheep, I can't seem to keep him in line. Whenever he spots one of your crops, I lose him and he trots over to you to have an adventure."

"It's fine, you know," you shook your head. "I think it's adorable, and I really don't mind the loss of one crop. Just let that cutie do its thing, okay?"

Yangyang smiled softly, the corners of his mouth quirked up. The breeze was gentle, rustling his dark locks as he scanned the nearby fields with a pensive look on his face. His eyes were alight with a content gaze, taking in all the lush green fields.

"You have a talent for this farming business," he said, turning to meet your gaze with a bright and eager one. "And your success has helped the valley as a whole. What can I ever give you, as your best friend, to repay you?"

"One of your cows? Pleaseee," you asked playfully.

"Hell no," Yangyang responded incredulously.

"Pft. Jokes aside," you chuckled a bit at your joke and his incredulous reaction. "Did Jungwoo tell you we're having another neighbor moving into the property next to mine? And a possible new farmer or rancher, at that."

"Yeah," Yangyang beamed. "I hope the new person doesn't mind a cute, crop stealing sheep."

As you and Yangyang continued chatting, Fluffy returned with the beet and a few children following the sheep like little ducks in its wake. The children saw the pair of you, giggling, waving, and started a chorus of "good mornings." Both you and Yangyang returned the good mornings with grins, laughing when the group of kids proceeded to chase the sheep further into town, as it picked up speed and began a merry race with its pursuers.

"Let's head into town and get some lunch at Johnny's," Yangyang suggested. With that, the two of you walked the dusty, gravel trail and were welcomed by the vibrant buzz of Neo Valley.

A week later, you were conversing with Yangyang and Jeno and Hyemi, the couple that ran the ranch and farm across the river that ran adjacent to town, when you noticed a handsome figure standing beside Mayor Taeyong in front of the wooden gate that led into the property next to yours. All four of you perked up, seeing Taeyong turn towards the fields and beam, gesturing towards a handsome man with fair hair and a somewhat formal demeanor.

"Oh, looks like all our farming and ranching folks are here," Taeyong exclaimed as he noticed your little group. "These are your fellow neighbors."

The man turned to look at all of you and you swear, your knees felt weak from how handsome he was. The man's eyes widened, scanning the four of you, noting all the different fields and livestock, before his gaze settled on you and didn't leave. You suddenly felt embarrassed, fiddling with the edge of your tunic before realizing that he had begun walking towards you and was now a meter away.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," the stranger greeted. "I'm Kun and I'll be living in that space right here for a while. Nice to meet you."

With introductions all done, Kun's gaze lingered on you for a second longer than what was polite, and you felt a thrill at that. Before you could speak, you were pleasantly surprised to see Fluffy jump and begin to leap around excitedly this time with a sweet potato dangling from its mouth. You, Yangyang and Kun all began laughing at its energetic display.

"Is this your sheep?" Kun questioned with amusement. Yangyang nodded in the affirmative as he grinned.

"Yup. This silly thing sneaks over here from Yangyang's livestock whenever he wants an adventure," you giggled, shaking your head fondly. "He loves to take my crops as a prize, then goes parading through the village and farms like a small show pony."

"That's quite humorous," Kun mused. He bent to scratch behind Fluffy's ears and the creature looked ecstatic at the sudden attention. It dropped the potato, licking at Kun's fingers and bleating at him. "You'll come and take my crops too if I start my own farm?"

Another bleat. Another round of laughter. With this interaction, you had a feeling that Kun would get along just fine in your small town. After Fluffy picked the potato back up and took a victory lap around the group and your properties, it scurried into town to show off.

"I'm going to keep an eye on the little cutie," Taeyong laughed. He had his hands in his pockets, a wide smile on his lips as he laughed a bit. "I trust ya'll are gonna help the new guy get settled in, am I right?"

With that, the mayor headed off, and it was just the five of you. You smiled at Kun, noticing how nice his eyes looked and how neatly styled his hair was. His clothes were modest and fit, making him a treat to gaze at for you.

"Kun," Yangyang repeated. "Are you gonna be starting a farm or a ranch?"

"Not too sure," Kun chuckled. "I'm open to suggestions."

"He could have both," Jeno replied. "Right, Hyemi?"

"Of course," Hyemi nodded. She stood close to Jeno, her hand finding his in a cute moment. "We run both the farm and the ranch across the river."

"That's only 'cause you two are married," Yangyang scoffed. "Before, you guys both ran separate farms and ranches."

"Hush," Jeno and Hyemi shot playful glares.

"Farm or ranch..." Kun echoed. He tapped his chin in a thoughtful pose. "I like the idea of having a farm. I feel I have the potential to do well with this."

"I'll teach you," you responded quickly. "I was in your shoes a year ago and I can definitely guide you and show you what worked and didn't work for me."

Kun looked touched and was pleasantly surprised by your offer. He thanked you repeatedly, which you brushed away with a smile on your lips. You were touched and happy to help, and to have a partner-in-crime now. Yangyang gave you a knowing look and wiggled his eyebrows.

"We'll leave you guys to chat now," Jeno stated, eyes shining. "See you all around town!"

The young couple departed and once more, it was you three, now standing outside of the empty field. The field looked unkempt, with patches of weeds in various places. To the corner of the lot were large tree stumps, their roots digging deep into the soil.

"Oh, that is a big issue," Kun exclaimed when his eyes spotted the trees. He hummed. "Y/N, can you show me where the best tools are made or crafted?"

"For general items, your best bet is Full Sun," you advised. "Haechan sells seeds, pots and bags of soil, but if you want fences or any kind of carpentry done, Hendery's is the place to go too. Chenle and Jisung runs the local blacksmith if you want axes and stuff."

"Great! That's a start," Kun was jotting this information down on his phone. You saw him nod a couple times and pause. You and Yangyang traded glances and waited until he was finished, before prompting him for his thoughts.

"Right. Okay," Kun stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket, shoulders sagging. "This is quite a lot, isn't it?"

"You'll do fine," you reassured him. "If a city girl like me can turn a shoddy farm into what it is now, you can do it too."

He looked pleased and comforted and nodded a bit. Kun was curious now, his eyes glowing and a boyish grin graced his features. A thought entered your mind and your lips quirked up too.

"How about we go into town and introduce you to everyone?" You suggested. "And afterwards, we can see about grabbing some lunch and plot a plan for your farm."

"That sounds great," Kun responded. "Lead the way."

You knew Kun was different right away. It was noticeable at first when the three of you arrived into town and Kun offered the shop owner's his help by helping them clear out the storage area. Even Doyoung, the local doctor, had been pleasantly surprised and excited with his willingness to be of use and help out. Everyone seemed enamored with the handsome man.

"I see you got a little crush on the new guy," Johnny, the owner of the cafe you love to inhabit for lunch, teased. He had the audacity to make kissing noises, causing you to snap a playful glare his way. "Buuuuttt, he is very attractive, isn't he?"

You had been sharing lunch with Haechan and Johnny, since Yangyang couldn't join today. A plate of soup, sandwich and an assortment of fried foods, the perfect comfort food was set before you, and you sighed happily. This meal was a favorite for a lot of reasons. But Kun was always at the forefront of your mind as you took the first bite.

"Isn't that a coincidence," Haechan smirked. "He seems to think you're gorgeous too."

"Shut up, shut up," you hissed, voice going a pitch higher as a warm blush raced up your neck. "I barely even know the dude! Stop assuming so fast..."

Both Haechan and Johnny blinked their eyes before grinning wider than necessary. This wasn't anything unusual, since Haechan was usually the biggest prankster in town, and Johnny wasn't too far behind on pulling ridiculous shenanigans. You squirmed, slightly embarrassed by the attention but were willing to ignore the pair and instead dive into your lunch. You didn't dare admit how attracted to the newcomer you were, already developing feelings and fondness for a guy who just moved into Neo Valley.

"C'mon," Johnny prodded with a low whistle. "Admit it. He is attractive."

"So?" you sipped at your drink, watching both Haechan and Johnny from a careful distance. "I said the same about Yangyang and we're just friends. Kun will be too."

"Uh huh. Sureeee," Haechan had that same playful, devilish sparkle in his eyes. He leaned closer, studying your reaction, while you simply slurped your beverage. "Nothing wrong with making some moves here and there."

"Dude. Too soon," you held your palms up in defense and scrunched your nose at him. Johnny chuckled, patting your shoulder.

"Never too soon, if the signals are there," the older man retorted with a shrug.

"Okay, fine," you relented. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Haechan knew you too well and would tease you till kingdom come until you caved. "He is kind of attractive."

Johnny laughed heartily, the sound echoing in the empty cafe. Meanwhile Haechan gasped like you'd spilled the biggest secret and pressed his hands into his cheeks, doing that annoying fake swoon. You rolled your eyes, used to the ridiculous antics from these two.

"Your life is blessed now," Haechan clasped his hands together with a dopey smile on his face. "The newest resident to Neo Valley happens to be Y/N's type? Oh you gotta shoot your shot, Y/N."

"Nooooo," you moaned, cheeks burning a little brighter. You couldn't deny the truth in his words: Kun did happen to be your type. 

While you and Haechan argued for the last piece of sweet potato tempura, Johnny observed from the side and nodded a bit as a playful idea entered his brain. "Changing topics, the Fall Festival is coming up in a couple months. I know your batch of radishes and sweet potatoes are looking good because Fluffy has been parading them through the town for the last week."

"He does have a preference for those kinds," you chuckled, rolling your eyes. "At least the crop thief knows which vegetables will do well at the festival."

"This will be Kun's first festival in town and since he doesn't have any crops yet...can he tag along with you for your entries?" Haechan proposed. "Just so he knows what to expect the next time around."

"It shouldn't be a problem..." You considered that for a long moment. "If he wants to."

"That settles it," Haechan chuckled. "Now I just need to convince Kun to join us and prepare him for the biggest celebration in town."

With those words spoken, you heard a familiar clatter followed by laughter, and you were startled when a little sheep trotted into the restaurant, carrying a large eggplant between its teeth. Kun entered after it, bowing several apologies to Johnny and he stopped in his tracks, meeting your stare with an eager grin. You watched as he followed the sheep to your side of the restaurant and sat beside you and Haechan.

"I saw him steal an eggplant from your fields, Y/N," Kun laughed. "Thought I might as well accompany him. This little cutie and I have become quite close."

"Ahhh Fluffy. At this point, you might as well make a residence in my backyard," you scratched Fluffy's head between the ears and got a pleased little "bah." as you grinned back at the animal. “Maybe I should ask Yangyang if I can adopt you instead.”

"Since you're here, Kun, I have something to ask you about," Haechan continued with his plot, raising his eyebrows a bit. He laid the trap nicely and simply, you were impressed and amused at the same time. "There's a big festival happening in a few months. Since you've barely started your farm, what do you think about helping Y/N out this year so next year, it's easier on you?"

Kun's eyes were wide and bright at the mention of the festival. You knew what his answer would be, and indeed, he was thrilled at the thought of attending an event such as this one, a week after moving in. His face was lit up in a fond and caring smile. “Sure, count me in!”

"Great," you replied, returning a genuine and equally excited grin. "This will be so much fun."

Haechan and Johnny high fived each other. Their expressions said "got 'em", and their grins were triumphant. The four of you finished your lunches and Kun tagged along with you to Hendery's to ask for repairs to his cabin, which the carpenter was quick to agree to. After Kun left, heading back to the cabin to ensure Hendery had everything he needed, Johnny turned to you.

"He's totally interested," Johnny stated matter-of-factly, tossing you a flirty wink. "Keep an eye on him at the festival, alright?"

"Whatever, John," you sighed heavily, throwing your hands into the air. "Your obsession over love makes you extra meddling, y'know. Look at Haechan, he's a prime example of the devil being love crazy."

"What can I say," Haechan shrugged, the cat-like grin back in place. "Love is something worth chasing after and obsessing about."

"Mark is not going to return your love, you know. He is happily married with a kid," you reminded him.

"And yet I remain hopeful," Haechan insisted.

You rolled your eyes in amusement. There was a skip in your step as you went around town to accomplish your list of errands, thoughts of the festival and Kun occupying the corners of your mind. And at night, when your head hit your pillow, your last thought was the man. You felt a thrilling sort of warmth in your belly when you closed your eyes and fell asleep to dreams of a handsome man that would soon make himself an important and permanent fixture in Neo Valley.

"Kun, can you grab that fertilizer and drop it off into those rows please?" you instructed. "Thanks so much! I owe ya one."

"No need," Kun called. "I'm happy to help."

Kun found that he really loved how relaxed things were here and how natural it was to fall into a routine, something to be passionate about and dedicated to. The repetitive tasks of weeding, watering, pruning, checking up on the livestock and taking the crops to the shipping bin to send to Haechan in town was strangely refreshing and enjoyable. His muscles ached from labor, his chest puffing and caving as he breathed deeply from exertion. Kun enjoyed the hot days under a beating sun, as well as the rainy days filled with puddles and slick ground, leaving everything gleaming.

The farm was doing amazing. Before your guidance, Kun wouldn't have the slightest idea what to plant, where to plant it, how much care the seedlings require before being ready to be harvested, and all the extra work required. Kun couldn't even begin to express how lucky he felt, that someone as kind and generous and easy to get along as you had extended your help. He knew his passion could only take him so far before you swooped in and ensured that things were on the right track.

Fluffy continued to provide the farming duo with comic relief, as the sheep loved taking things, whether it be crops, or small items that caught its fancy. The fluffy white animal was always accompanied by little kids, or townies on their lunch break, as they took a lap around town with the crowd following it. This sight was heartwarming and humorous, to witness the chaos caused by an adorable animal with an obsession.

You were also incredibly thoughtful. On his first night after getting the cabin situated by Hendery, he had gotten home to find a basket full of items gifted from around the neighborhood. There had been some sewing kits, a set of matches and a knife, new garden tools and some seeds to add to his growing collection and various other things.

Aside from the help, Kun was rather taken with you. The way the breeze tousled and played with your hair, the soft laugh you shared, your soft smile, the joy in your eyes and the compassion you possessed. There was nothing about you that left him wanting or cold, and as the Fall Festival came up, he couldn't wait to spend more time and enjoy more events with you.

The way the wind caressed his face and the way your laugh had begun to fill his dreams told Kun everything. He loved being in your presence and knew deep down in his heart that you meant a lot to him, more so than a neighbor or friend. If anything, he wanted to know more, to explore a future with you. A future in this little town that offered him a lifestyle he never dreamed he would experience.

His own feelings weren't something he was prepared to deal with, however. Kun just knew he liked being around you. And he loved to help with your farm and bring the fruits and veggies to the bin, seeing your face light up when he delivered a perfect head of cabbage. Kun enjoyed the walks that sometimes led to the mines or his property, where you would share the sunsets and stargazing while talking about farming and ranching and other activities. The conversations always revolved around mundane chatter and Kun wasn't bothered by it. He could talk and talk forever and be comfortable to just sit in silence beside you.

Oh how things had changed for him. How different his life was now. How exciting life could get, how thrilling and uplifting it could feel. In only three months, Kun had fallen head over heels for a farmer girl.

But could things get more serious? Would it go that direction, from a friendly relationship to one filled with warmth and passion and a loving energy.

"We should go mining sometime," he mused aloud to himself, not hearing you approach him from behind.

"What?" your question drew him out of his reverie. 

Kun shook his head, glancing at you as your arms crossed over your stomach. He suddenly couldn't think when his eyes raked over your body, tracing your soft curves. He didn't even process how the light of the sun framed your lovely figure like a halo, your aura shining in all your glory. All the while, your own thoughts were spinning into overdrive, looking up at the broadness of his back as you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand, rest your cheek against the contour and smoothness of his shoulders.

"Wanna go exploring? There are these huge ruins not too far away," he tried his best to speak casually and relaxed but failed when he registered his heartbeat. Oh. This feeling was entirely too new. Kun was nervous, sweat slicking his palms and his blood humming. What was happening to him? To his calm, carefree lifestyle?

"Yeah, that sounds great," you gave him a pleased and soft smile. You didn't notice his heightened nerves and glanced towards the forest path, picturing the dense area covered in foliage. "I haven't been there before."

"Seriously?" His incredulity pulled you out of your mental images. "You haven't explored past the cliff near your farm?"

"Nope," your giggle filled the air and he wanted to capture it, save the sound, and carry it everywhere he went. His heart did the strange palpitation again. Kun blinked rapidly.

"Then, if it's not a problem..." he paused, fidgeting with his shirt. "What about tomorrow afternoon? We can scope out the ruins and make a map, maybe?"

"Hmm," you paused. Your lips were in a pretty pout and he wanted to lean down, capture those rosy and sweet lips with a gentle kiss. Wanted to hold you close to his heart. "I think the rest of the crops can handle themselves. Most are ready for harvest anyways. Would be a good distraction from the anticipation, yeah?"

"Yes," Kun cleared his throat, a slight heat warming his cheeks at your proximity. Why was he acting like this? There was something about you that made him feel so alive, like he was treading dangerous territory and didn't know what would happen. Not that he minded it. "We can leave after we water the crops and harvest anything that's ready?"

"Perfect!" you exclaimed.

The rest of your time harvesting was spent with warm conversation and fond gazes and sweet smiles that left butterflies swarming his insides, and he struggled with figuring out just what these feelings meant. When he was back home, preparing a simple bowl of an autumn salad and sliced radishes to make a delicious side dish, a single phrase whispered out loud. 

Kun spoke in awe at the realization. "It must be love."

It seemed crazy. Kun was still adjusting to his new living situation and you were a sweet woman that lived only a couple of feet from his front door.

Love, huh?

You had given him your attention, your guidance, your knowledge and you took the time to be around him and make him feel important. It was weird, experiencing these feelings but not...unpleasant. In fact, he rather enjoyed them.

From the window that was open in the kitchen, Kun's ears picked up the sound of someone passing his property. Instantly, the sounds of a sheep followed. He chuckled to himself.

"Silly sheep," he mused softly, eyes twinkling and heart filled with affection. For the cute animal that he had taken quite a liking to, for the town that embraced him, for his new friends that supported and understood him. But mostly, his heart was aflutter at the thought of a farmer girl who lived uphill, with a name as beautiful and unique and ethereal as you.

Indeed, these feelings were unlike anything before.

"Kun!" Your laughter flowed from your lips, gesturing towards the booth reserved with all your produce, or what your field had been able to supply for the day's Fall Festival. "Come here."

His lips were stretched into the most wide, content and elated grin, taking his place by your side, basking in the sight of the booths full of fall themed trinkets, food and products, the games for children, as well as the horse racing section. The Neo Valley residents were a colorful and interesting and happy group of folks, and there was nowhere else he wished to be in the world at that moment.

The weather was a cool autumn temperature and everyone had gathered to show off their skills and work or eat a festival's worth of delicious food and join the band. His senses were a bit overwhelmed as Kun took everything in. The warm scent of mulled wine was in the air as couples held the steaming cups of fragrant delight, and his fingers itched to hold your hand, or take yours, to whisper compliments and praises or laugh heartily. To say something romantic and let his feelings slip out, finally confess how much his heart skipped and did funny flips when you looked his way. To know if the same emotions and affections and desires ran through your veins when you saw him.

But he couldn't. And he wouldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on between the two of you, and he wasn't sure you would welcome or want anything to develop between you both. He'd only been in the valley for a few months already, and it could just be him reading too deep into everything, making assumptions and conclusions.

"Are you scared if your crops lose this year?" Kun asked in curiosity.

"I’m not scared…as long as you’re here with me, everything is okay," you leaned over and squeezed his arm. Kun gulped a bit. If you noticed the gesture, you didn't comment on it. Instead, you carried on with the chatter, oblivious to the storm swirling within him. "Of course I want to win, but just being here, amongst friends and sharing a special tradition is what's really important. Don't you think so?"

He didn't know what to say, with his face beginning to heat up at the thought of your warmth, and your honesty and the gentle care you possessed. He only managed to smile.

"Agreed," Kun nodded, smiling softly. His expression matched yours perfectly. "This is great. My first Fall Festival with you and I love it."

His heart raced when he caught the dreamy smile you gave him, a gaze brimming with something warm and fuzzy and wonderful that left him speechless.

"Lucky us," you hummed.

Kun could've been dreaming, but you reached out and grabbed his hand. Your fingers laced with his and your palm rested against his. You gripped gently. There was a shy yet dazzling smile that took hold of your features and Kun swore the entire world shifted for a split second. Time had frozen for the two of you, all sounds from the festival silenced and your features glowed in the glow of the festival lights, a glowing halo of autumn colors, with the perfect warmth that he longed for.

"Thank you, for everything you've done for me," you spoke softly. His head ducked shyly, as you brought a tender hand to cup his chin, tilting his gaze so it could meet with yours. "I mean it, Kun. Thank you so, so much."

"Don't thank me," Kun's heart squeezed at your words. "I'd do it all over again and not ask for a single reward. Because all I need, all I want, is you. I know we've only known each other for only a few months but you have made such an impact on me that there's no way I'd go back to my city lifestyle. And if things carry on the same way, I'm glad it'll be here, in Neo Valley."

"Gosh, that was really corny," you murmured with a playful nudge of his shoulder, your laughter bubbling from your lips. It was light and sweet, filling him with a delightful kind of joy. A laugh Kun had been craving to hear again. "And somehow, so perfectly you."

You looked over his face, mapping every part of his handsome profile. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask but instead held off on until a moment arrived that made sense. Instead, the pair of you let the moment settle, your fingers sliding further into his grasp and resting gently, Kun relishing the contact.

The moment passed, and Kun exhaled a shaky breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. You both returned back to the festival, focusing on your first shared Autumn event and all the sights and sounds. The only sign that the connection remained, were the soft rubs of your thumb across the back of his knuckles and the smile you kept glancing at him with.

And as the harvest contest wrapped up, you playfully pouted when Jeno and Hyemi ended up the big winners. Despite losing this year's harvest competition, you were smiling from ear to ear, as the atmosphere and festivities made everything worthwhile. Kun spent his first festival walking the grounds, eating delicious and traditional foods, talking and laughing with your other friends and exchanging stories and traditions with town residents who had become like family.

Kun walked you back to your farm, letting the silence hang in the air comfortably and listening to the symphony of crickets and the rustle of leaves as they were disturbed in the breeze. It was a slow walk home, savoring each other's company until the end of the path leading to your front door. Your fingers reluctantly unraveled themselves from his and Kun instantly felt the chill from his fingertips to his toes when you were no longer pressed up close to his warmth, keeping his hand safe and held within yours. He missed your hand in his the moment it was no longer present, and his chest longed to hold you close again.

"Y/N?" Kun broke the silence and stopped his trek towards home.

"Yeah, Kun?" you faced him and waited expectantly.

"I know it's sudden but...can I kiss you?" He couldn't help himself. And when your breath hitched, the briefest surprise flittered over your expression, Kun wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry because you might say no.

"Yes," your whisper came a few seconds later. "Yes please."

Your fingers interlaced again and drew him back to the same spot where you stood. The sun had long since vanished over the horizon, the moonlight illuminated the two of you with a beautiful softness, and your bodies fit perfectly into each other. There was something soft and precious that bloomed within you and it seemed that time paused when you cupped his cheek, and reached up to press your lips gently to his. Kun responded after a second, the hand that wasn't joined with yours, reached to the nape of your neck, fingers dancing along the skin. You melted into his touch, eyes fluttering closed at the blissful feeling.

All the sounds and surroundings fell away into the background as the kiss continued, your lips gliding and capturing each other again and again. Each touch, each caress, the soft sighs and little noises that escaped and filled the atmosphere, all of it, was all the confirmation Kun needed. A sweet melody of growing emotions and affections, blossoming and promising so many dreams for the future.

Because after this kiss, and the kisses that followed, there was no way that you two could return to your life as only farm friends and neighbors. And Kun knew his life in the Valley was always destined to become a forever home with you.

[deth-of-a-junkie]

i have a lot of postal dude headcanons, so ive split them up.

so heres my postal 1 dude headcanons

p1 dude has a special interest on the jets and weaponry used in ww2 and the vietnam war, but also the U.S military as a whole. he specifically likes to collect vintage U.S military memorabilia and propaganda. he can go on for hours about the faults of the government and government greed and corruption, he hates the system. he also knows a lot about JFK assassination theories and will go on for hours about them.

oh yeah. postal 1 dude is autistic.

he also has a spin on guns. he knows them all by name and loves to learn about different manufacturers and how each one are built. he knows how to deconstruct them and put them back together. he even has some guns he's made himself. legal? probably not. he doesnt care.

p1 dude also prefers reading in books for information instead of searching the web for them, so amongst the mess of his house is just piles upon piles of books.

p1 dude also is great at poetry. he loves writing too, which is why i think he started his diaries.

he also loves drawing! he loves going out and drawing scenery the most, he also likes drawing nude figures. he finds the human body to be interesting.

p1 dude is religious. im divided on if i see him as someone whos spiritually aligned closer to catholics (though i wouldnt call him a straight up catholic, he doesn't like the church.) or pagen.

talking about pagen dude, correct me if im wrong, i dont know much about pagenism (but ive been trying to learn more as of recent), but he specifically worships greek gods. out of the gods, his favorite is ares.

he hangs around poostall dude a lot. they arent really friends, they're kinda opposites of each other, but poostall looks up to him as a mentor in philosophy among other things.

he used to be active in his local punk scene when he was younger. he has a lot of cds and tapes of obscure bands that almost no one has heard of.

he loves metal more then anything though, and he also has a large collection of horror films (all on vhs, a few of dvd. he doesnt have his dvd player plugged in so he only uses it if he has too. also refused to buy blueray. if its the only option he burns it onto a disk himself.).

his favorite genres of metal are melodic death metal and prog metal. i would also say dsbm but i feel like thats too corny. he loves opeth. also death.

he's non-speaking most of the time by choice. the older he's gotten the more he started to isolate himself, and he usually chooses to ignore people when theyre talking and not respond at all, mainly just people who ask for directions and stuff on the street he'll just ignore. he just doesnt feel the need too, he likes to stay invisible.

talking about that, he hates leaving his house. it used to be because of anxiety but it slowly became due to his other mental health issues getting worse, especially his fear of everyone being out to get him/everyone else being demons/whatever your interpretation of his reasonings behind postal 1 is.

3 in one shampoo. also uses hand soap to shave instead of shaving cream. also uses hand soap to wash his face...

he needs glasses. his sunglasses also has his normal prescription lenses in them, his eyes are sensitive to light so he chose to make them sunglasses too (i believe this is possible. if its not, well it is now). he also has a 2nd pair that are just normal glasses, he uses them only to read or when he's walking around his house at night. (this is totally not me self reflecting with the realization that i just found out i need glasses..../s)

I DONT KNOW HOW I FORGOT TO MENTION but also has a special interest on nuclear disasters, nuclear power plants, and radiation. theyre not separate theyre all apart of one fixation that branches off the core idea of nuclear power. like he cant have one without the other. if that makes sense.

also uses he/they. he doesnt out right say it, he doesnt use social media so its not like, in a bio or anything. he just naturally picked it up. will also accept she being used to refer to himself, but is not something he states publicly or asks people to do. he was surrounded by the queer community growing up as most of his highschool friends were apart of the community so he just one day realized he wasnt opposed to it being used in reference to himself.

he is an ASSHOLE. he used to be more considerate in his youth but the older he got the grumpier he got. he is SCARY when he insults someone. like he will have an entire ass speech of him just degrading someone until they literally have nothing left to say for themselves.

doesnt get angry though. he's calm when hes upset and frustrated, or will straight up just make fun of and make harsh jokes about the situation (i mean that like. if he gets into a disagreement with someone on the street he will laugh at them and mock them by teasing them. thats what i mean.)

[eyrieofsynapses]

good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.

y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.

I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.

I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?

when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?

that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:

what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?

it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.

and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.

there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.

[cadere-art]

Is your worldbuilding based off an already created work? (I have a feeling it's not but I'm not great at recognizing fandoms)

Also I want to know more about the worlds referred to in the species descriptions you've posted. Are we talking planets? Realms? Continents? How does travel happen?

All my work is original! I think it's cool that fandom spaces exist but I've never been a big fandom person myself.

I have, mainly, three settings I'm working on, from most recent to oldest: Ostbaye Moon is a sci-fi setting I'm occasionally working on with my husband for a TTRPG project which may or may not eventually come to life. I haven't really posted about it here and I'm not actively working on it at the moment. This setting is set on an habitable moon of a gas giant which is coveted by different alien factions who want to exploit, inhabit, protect it and more. This setting has several planets and stuff implied but is centered on that moon. This setting has some sort of FTL and wormhole tech but it is somewhat unimportant to it.

Pigeon Aéropostale, which I've been posting about recently, is a story set in the fantasy setting of the Endworld / Le Terminal. The Endworld is a planet or a dimension which has a one-way connection to a few other worlds, including ours. When a lot of things die in a small time/space region, there's a chance that at the moment of their death, they will find themselves alive and intact in the Endworld. No one has ever returned to one of the origin worlds from the Endworld - most people in the Endworld were born there, descendants from people who, at some point in the past, materialized from a tragedy in their origin world. The Endworld is planet-sized (whether this is constant or the Endworld is expending is a source of in-world debate), but the story mostly happens in Iscea (Iscée), a country rolling into industrial revolution at full steam in which Sébastie Jayde, illegitimate daughter of a trading magnate, is trying to build the first postal airline out of aviation's first hiccups.

Uanlikri, my oldest (and biggest) setting, is a fantasy setting with no magic whatsoever that I would personally rather describe as a bronze-age sci-fi. There's a lot of anthropological intent to Uanlikri. Uanlikri is one of the continents of the antiole world - the one with the dinosaur guys (there may or may not be antioles in Endworld as well - there were, when I was working on it 10 years ago, but now that I'm working on it again I'm not sure I want to keep them in. Time will tell). Uanlikri is a large continent, slightly smaller than Africa. There are other continents on this planet, but for the sake of my sanity, I'm not touching them except to the extent where people there have active relations with peoples on Uanlikri. Travel on Uanlikri is mostly by foot or by boat. Most of my work on Uanlikri is centered in the Basin region, which I haven't really posted much about because I've been busy working on my "Peoples of Uanlikri" vignettes for the peoples of the South, but suffices to say that the Basin region is a mediterannean-ish theater of empires hitting eachother and themselves on the head over centuries. The Basin region of Uanlikri is home to two stories I hope to write someday, both about the fall of the Namitan Empire, a large polity in the North of the Basin: The Flight of the Winged Serpent, which recounts the life and death of the last Emperor of Namitie, and Empire's Wake, which takes place in the vassal state of the Protectorate of Ranai as the Empire crumbles into civil war after the death of the last Emperor.

[wheelin-after-midnight]

30.

What was the last thing you laughed at?

The way Nippy was looking at me while I was talking to her.

How many times have you visited the beach in your lifetime?

Once or twice.

Do you know anyone personally who has committed murder?

No.

Do you use temper glass phone screen protectors?

No.

Have you ever cracked your phone screen badly?

This actually just happened yesterday. I set my tablet down quickly where I thought it would be fine for a second, but it fell face down and now the screen is super cracked. I was looking into potentially getting a new tablet soon anyway, but I didn't really want to have to do it during Christmas season. :(

Would you ever take up pole dancing as a hobby? I would if I were physically capable of doing it, but I'm not.

What is one of your most prized possessions?

Nippy. Any of my Nan's paintings that I have. The jewelry she gave me.

Do you find commercials/ads to be amusing or just annoying?

Often they're both.

Do you enjoy taking late night drives?

I can't drive, but I enjoy late night drives with Brittany. Super fun.

Do you prefer incense, candles, or something else for making your house smell nice?

My Scentsy wax warmer, if anything.

How many pets/children do you have?

One cat. No kids. Want them, can't have them.

Have you ever accidentally stolen something?

Nah.

What was the last thing you needed help with?

Figuring out why half the lights in my apartment stopped working when the breakers were fine and the bulbs had been recently changed and weren't even looking burnt.

What's the most expensive article of clothing you own?

The bridesmaid's dress I wore to my sister's wedding was just under $200.

What's one of your favorite memories from your childhood?

Pa building me a bike I could pedal with my hands and he and Nan surprising me with it. I went into more detail about it a few surveys ago. #27 maybe? Y'all can go back and find it if you feel like reading more about that.

What seems like a cult to you but isn't one?

The way some people go so hard for celebrities that they like and start throwing boundaries out the window, refusing to see them as real, human people with the same emotions as everyone else, deserving of privacy and normalcy.. It's very weird.

What do you do when you start to feel depressed or really down?

I sleep a lot more. Cry a lot. I withdraw even more. Don't eat enough, or at all.

Do you keep your nails manicured?

Hah, no. I can't afford to.

When was the last time you checked your mail?

Not for a bit. I have to have someone go to my box and bring it to me and our postal service was on strike, so.

Do you do positive affirmations daily?

No. I try to remind myself of good things and to be kind to myself, but I have a harder time following through some days.

What time did you wake up this morning?

I first woke up at 10 but then went back to bed.

Do you like lemon with your tea?

When I'm sick.

Do you know anyone with the name Andrew?

An old friend's son, but I don't talk to or hang out with her anymore.

Are you a sensitive person?

Soooooo deeply sensitive.

Do you know any of your neighbors well?

A couple. I've been here over a decade so have had a lot of turnover with who the neighbors on my floor are. A bunch of us used to sit in the hallway and talk and drink during the covid shutdown when everybody was home. They were very kind to me at a very vulnerable time when my Nan had just died. There's still a couple living here from that time. I'm not friends with them, but I'll never forget how they treated me when others who should have been there never even checked on me, pretended my grief wasn't happening, and ignored when I needed them.

Have you ever received a traffic ticket?

No.

Do you enjoy glitter or find it to be a nuisance?

Both. It's pretty, but omg, it's such a mess and gets everywhere.

Would you ever want to be a politician?

I used to think about it. To try to help the disabled population. But no. No matter my intentions when starting out, I don't want the world of politics to end up corrupting me.

Have you ever been into Pokémon? If so, what's your favorite?

No, but I like pikachu. He's cute.

What's your favorite soup?

All the vegetarian ones I made when I ate that way. So good. I love homemade soup.

What color reminds you of the week you've had so far?

Blue-grey.

Chinese or Mexican food? What's your favorite dish?

Mexican. Burritos or burrito bowls.

Have you ever seen a wolf in person?

I don't think so.

Are you currently doing something else besides this survey?

Thinking about how I'm gonna shower and clean Nip's boxes after I'm finished.

Do you get annoyed by repetitive questions?

Occasionally.

What's the fastest you've ever driven?

I can't drive.

Have you ever listened to Tim McGraw?

Absolutely.

What's the last thing you lit on fire?

Nothing.

Do you still watch American Idol?

Just the auditions, if I happen to catch some of them.

What's your favorite things about life?

Not a whole hell of a lot right now. I'm terrified of the upcoming complete upending of everything and I'm having a really hard time with it. My cat, music, my girlfriend, good coffee, and my favourite foods are things that see me keep putting one foot in front of the other as much as possible, though.

What is your favorite emoticon?

🥰😂😘😈🥹😭🤣🫠🤦🏻‍♀️☺️ Are the ones I use the most.

When was the last time you had to replace the batteries in something?

I've used rechargeable batteries for years. Much easier since I can't get to the store on my own. Less waste.

Have you ever seen a street name that was funny or a town name?

Not that I can remember, but every time we go down a street with my given name while driving, my friends look at me and go "we're on your street."

Do you like to watch anime?

No.

Do you ever drink energy drinks?

Only the Starbucks or Starbucks double shot ones, and not very often.

How many surveys have you created?

None.

Do you just enjoy taking them?

Well, yeah.

What type of cell phone do you own? Do you like it?

None. I've a home phone and a tablet.

What's your plans for the rest of the day?

Shower, clean Nip's boxes, feed her again, vacuum, do some dishes, talk to babe, listen to an audiobook, put something on to fall asleep to.

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

Heya! Saw the little match up post and was very curious!! Just like the last person, my current interest is Postal since its the only one I rlly know (have been getting into Blood and Duke Nukem stuff recently tho) but this is ultimately up to you and who best you think I match up with!

I'm 19 years old and I'm a transmasc person. I have blonde hair, long and curly, that I tend to dye a lot. I also have dark brown eyes, that people in my life often describe as very off-putting because I have a tendency to intensely stare at people. My facial features are soft but apparently very pretty, I have plump lips and a button nose and a soft jawline. I also have a lot of piercings and a few tattoos. I'm short and thin too ig but also have an hourglass figure. Like I'm naturally just very thin, my hands are smaller than average and I have never worked out a day in my life. But I am working towards changing that since I want to be buff one day! I am a fetish goth so I wear a lot of latex, PVC, tight stuff, and bondage gear just like as a fashion statement. I'm a very laid back person, quite literally nothing can bother me and I'm not emotional at all. But I also present myself as a caring person and like to behave motherly towards those around me, taking care of their every need and supporting them. I also have very obsessive tendencies when I get genuinely attached to a person, I am always completely obsessed with any person I am romantically involved with. My obsession is like fanatic religious worship.

My strengths is hard to say, I guess it would be that I am highly adaptable. Nothing bothers me at all and I am constantly rolling with the punches, I've been put through the ringer my whole life so I'm just chill about everything. I just constantly adjust to every situation and am super optimistic, no matter what. I always give myself something to look forward to, however small it may be because the smallest experiences are worth the most in my mind. I am also very creative and imaginative, I am constantly making something and it's mostly just me either writing horror stories or drawing. But that also causes me to get trapped in my head all the time and I get a bit restless when I can't daydream.

Weaknesses is also a hard one, I would have to say my inability to feel certain emotions and my forgetfulness. I can't feel things like guilt or anger, I can barely even really experience romantic love. The only time I can experience love is through obsession. And then I am also constantly forgetting things all the time, my days are very foggy in my head. I also get very depressed at times and struggle to get things done, but I always manage to beat it in the end. I also find it hard to communicate with people, especially my own needs and wants.

I don't look for much in a partner, just someone who I find interesting and who I can feel I am forming an obsession over. I typically like gruff people, assholes with a soft spot for me. I also like nerdy people and I find crudeness very attractive. I actually mainly look for people with obsessive tendencies like me.

My hobbies include anything involving art but especially writing horror stories, taxidermy, vulture culture. I also collect knives. I like fashion too, and the history behind alternative subcultures. I play video games all the time and like getting really into shows and movies I watch.

I am an INFP, got the same result years back and got it again now so ig it's very true lol.

I hope this is all sufficient! I felt like such a mary sue or something just describing myself lol

HELLO!!!! You are not a mary sue! You’re an amazing wonderful person who’s gonna get A TWO FOR ONE SPECIAL!💥💥💥

That’s right!

For Boomer Shooters, I match you with:

Caleb from Blood

You want gruff? You got it! Caleb is the definition of a mysterious stranger in the shadows. He does what he wants. He has a tendency to have a dark sense of humor and makes horror movie references every at opportunity, so I hope you’re prepared for that. Like he dips you over and goes “Wanna suck face?” before kissing you.

Caleb really loves your style. He’s basically lives a goth lifestyle and has a love for the dark beauty found in it. I think he’d buy you a special collar for your outfits, possibly with your name engraved somewhere. Caleb also wants to know if you’d be a dear and taxidermy something for him as keepsake.

Considering the plot of Blood is to rescue his love, I’d say he has the same level of deep devotion as you do (probably obsessive too). But you have many qualities about you that make you more of a perfect match than Ophelia ever was. She was but a taste of the love that’d truly fulfill his soul. He certainly has a soft spot for you alone.

Your optimism is refreshing yet you have a lot bearing down on your soul. He’s no prince charming, but let him take care of you. This man would burn the world down for you if anything happened. Prepared to be spoiled because Caleb will stop at nothing if it means you know just how special you really are.

For Postal Dudes, I match you with:

Postal 1 Dude

Dude loves how you also indulge in dark media and similar hobbies. He’d look at your knife collection in awe. He has a gun collection if you’d like to see.

Maybe, with enough time, he’d show you his own horror writings. It’s usually chicken scratched poetry, but it comes from a raw part of his soul. I can see you two laying down next to each other and letting both your creative ideas unravel into a collective of storytelling together.

He feels at home with how nurturing you can be. Dude often gets stuck in his own delusions to the point of paranoia. Whenever you ground him, be it holding him through an episode or infodumping to help him forget, it truly makes a difference. He believes God sent you as an angel disguised as a human.

Because of this, he will do the same for you. His advice is a bit direct, but you can at least count on him. He won’t ever be hard on you for forgetfulness or any flaw of yours because it completes you to a perfectly real person to love. “Keep strong. Every hardship is a brick that builds you stronger.”

[hals-homo-blog]

⚠️Pinned Post Under Construction⚠️

About

Heyyyy I am Hal. I'm 23, Bigender, He/Him > She/Her. I am an Animator, Illustrator and Writer, though I haven't been making a lot of finished pieces at this tough spot in my life. I always keep trying tho ^^.

I am an adult, and there is gonna be 18+ Adult content on here. I have the #suggestive tag for people who don't wanna see that, and I Highly Discourage any minors from following me. If you're gonna follow me anyway, block the tag. If I catch minors liking/reblogging adult stuff off my page, yer gettin' blocked, pal. Sorry.

Headmates, tags, DNI and Headcanon Submission Info below the cut :3c

DNI - The usual stuff, haters, any kind if -ist or -phobic (not fear obv but prejudice, lol) Anti-endo and proship

Headmates

☆ Vincent (Yeah, that one) Vincent Afton, my beloved husband, I made him On Accident. I've been messin' with him for like, 7 or 8 years now, but I only recently found out he was his own person up in my head there.

Gordon Freeman (Freeman's Mind)

Postal 3 Dude (Postal 3) OUGh this is the newest one, he's literally So Silly. The Grinning Sniler...

Tags

Hal Art - My art Hal Talk - Thoughts nobody asked for Hal Answer - Answers to asks Halcore - what it says on the box Hal's Bookshelf - Stuff for me to read Hal's Homo Headcanons - If people send me prompts, I'll do Headcanons and stuff =w= Suggestive - Minors pls block this tag or just don’t follow me 🙏 /lh  🛒 - shit I wanna buy at some point MY HUSBAND - Vincent posts THE POOKIE - Freemind posts LULU - Alucard posts ROWOBOT - Swerve posts The Sniling Grinner - Postal 3 Dude posts PeePaw - Postal 4 Dude posts

These are all just ship tags Hal x Vincent Hal x Gordon / HalMind Halcyon x Alucard / Halucard Rod x Dude

HEADCANON SUBMISSION THING

Uhhhhhh idk anything this is UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Characters I think I could do

P2 Dude P3 Dude P4 Dude? Maybe? Vincent Afton, he's my hubby so prolly not shipping him around =w=

Gordon Freeman - Freeman's Mind

[nathantheauthor]

I'm excited to get into the post I'm going to drop as I finish it, take a while, but the next major information post isn't a character exploration... But, design concepts! The four main designs for the characters throughout the Revver era of the Ripper Inc story. But as I put that on the back burner, this post is about mythology and the international branches. It's not going to be that detailed. Just kind of a teaser for some of the stuff going on with them and some of the conceptual ideas, and some of the crossover elements of the universe.

For those who are just seeing this, the main concept of Ripper Inc in this giant crossover fanfic sandbox is a company that reforms monsters and serial killers, or even just gives people a job. Austin time they hunt down other serial killers and monsters, but sometimes they're hired security, birthday party attractions, etc. They're technically morally good, they'll do anything they're paid to do, but a lot of them do have very questionable backgrounds and needed the mental help program offers. Of course, most of the following examples don't fit that criteria, as they were approached due to already being morally all right, most of them at least. The main idea of the organization is to rehabilitate killers and monsters by turning their violent tendencies on to other killers and monsters all while giving them psychological help they need.

But, before we get into the lot of their members, I think we should introduce....

BRANCH DIRECTORS (PART 1)!

Because this whole postal focus on just the briefest summary of the directors.

Mary-San!

Starting with Japan's very Phone Call From Mary. This is one that's very much done for both the colony of it and because of the terrifying practicality. For those unfamiliar with the urban legend, Mary-San, or Phone Call From Mary is a Japanese ghost story about a haunted doll and phone challenge rolled into one. As per the legend, if you call her first you will get a series of phone calls from Mary-San, each one her announcing herself in a location you had recently been to until finally It All leads up to "Hi, this is Mary-San, I'm calling from behind you." Her height may make her a comedic choice for a largely yokai branch, but she is the perfect tracker, equipped with only a phone call she is a master strategist and can locate anyone.

I am also very much playing with the backstory of her mythology, with the very reason she originally joined Ripper Inc being the promise of finding her original owner, who by the point she enters the story is already a very old woman. By the time the promise is fulfilled, it's a visit to the grave of the woman, with the rest of her branch and her own boss there to comfort and support her.

Sun Wukong!

Also hailing from Asia comes the Chinese branch director, The Monkey King himself. I'm not going to get into how I'm handling gods and all that in this post, but I will say that I'm leaving him very much the trickster gremlin that he is. In fact, inspired by a friend's Fate portrayal, I've elected not to give him a set design outside his origins. Wukong instead will shift and use the designs of adaptations and depictions of him, or characters inspired from him. Meaning he could look anything like Lego Wukong to Son Goku.

The Victorious Fighting Buddha's reason for joining repairing is a mixture of responsibility calling to him and the simple fact that he finds the concept and idea to be absolutely fun, the idea of HIM being the leader of a company branch is hilarious. How could he say no? It is an evolution of some of his themes, he may still be a trickster, but knowing their ultimate mission he takes the job rather seriously, often he can't help but recall The Journey To The West when working with his crew.

Annora Petrova!

For the Russian Branch director, I know a lot of you old school Creepypasta fans might recognize this name, she is an underrated classic. I say Russian branch, however they do more cover the collection of countries around that area (minus China). I do have an explanation for why she's around, given I actually haven't rewritten anything about her story!

In this reinterpretation she has become the Slavic spirit of folklore... A Rusulka, this is due to a character I won't spoil editing her wiki and once more altering the course of her story. She's now come to be the director for this large branch of Ripper ink and works closely with / shares resources with Wukong. Everyday she has the temptation to check her wiki, to see what it has to say about her. To see what isn't about her newfound fame.

Brianna Grianne!

Hopping on over to Ireland, we meet the first OC director! Brianna is a fey, one that outright goes against the will of her people and instead uses her fae powers to aid and give people what they need. It's very notable in her wording, never does directly ask for something, avoiding fae deals.

She much rather live and be part of the human world than amongst her less benevolent kin, finding the world of mankind to be much more intriguing and hospitable.

Nero Claudius!

Who better to lead the Roma- Italian branch than this resurrected Roman Emperor? They were all seriousness, it is very much they're fully resurrected Nero's way of still serving and protecting her country, finding herself having to figure her life out after the events of Point Breaker's closing act.

She's very much the same Red Saber we all know and love, however, she is a composite variant, and very much a living Nero, so she's got quite the legs up on her Fate canon counterpart.

Cameron Bryce!

I haven't tagged this SCP for nothing! Turning our attention over to Scotland, I introduced the next OC director, Cameron Bryce, a former Global Occult Legion squad leader.

After a cold winter night in his youth his life was forever changed, finding himself scooped up by the GOC to hunt down anomalies with deadly precision... But ultimately he hated the job and jumped at the offer for the directoral position. Working with and meeting people who will actually see tomorrow, with more competency, and power, than his GOC squad. He's generally really chill, one of the most laid-back people you'll ever meet.

Camille Noemie!

The French director, and Dame Blanche (White Lady), she's very much a spectral figure trying to do her best for her community, alongside other legends from france, and their few serial killers capable of joining, they're one of the smaller branches, but they make do!

Camille is a very friendly woman, merely using her afterlife to help her community and work through her regrets from life. She's merely trying her best, and she'll do everything in her power to help.

Now, stay tuned for part two tomorrow, featuring the directors for the branches in Canada, Germany, Britain, Korea, Australia, and more!

[rurukatt]

Letters to Tacitus Kilgore

Just a couple of letters Sophia sent to Arthur while she spent some time away from the gang. I did these as a little writing practice since I don’t really have the energy for much more. Enjoy~

[October 1894]

Dear Arthur,

It has been a while since I wrote a letter to anyone, and as always, I find myself not knowing what to say. So much has happened and yet barely anything worth mentioning comes to mind when I try to write.

I am doing well. The room I'm renting is nice (unlike the owner of the house, but that's a story for another time), and they're giving me a lot of work at the doctor's office, which I don't mind at all. It helps me keep my mind off things. The old doctor is a real gentleman, his son… He's insufferable, Arthur. Talks a lot and thinks himself more knowledgeable than his father, but he doesn't even know what he's talking about most of the time. The only person he's able to impress is himself, but that seems to be enough for him.

I had hoped my time with you all would be longer, but nevertheless I am grateful for what I got and I miss you every day. You, most of all, but sometimes I miss Hosea even more. Please give him my regards and thanks. Were it not for him, I wouldn't have this opportunity right now.

Yours fondly, Sophia Ashe

* 

[November 1894]

Dear Arthur,

We had our first snow yesterday. It was a wonderful sight to wake up to, although the heavy snowfall made it difficult to get into town in time. I hope the weather is treating you well, wherever you are.

The snow also means I cannot take Sunflower for her usual morning rides anymore. I can clearly see she hasn’t been well, and now that the roads are too slippery, I don’t want to risk an injury on top of that. It pains me to see her like this, but I’m resolved to nurse her back to health. I cannot and will not lose this horse, Arthur, she’s everything to me. I promised I’d take good care of her when you gave her to me, and I intend to honor my word, even if it means sleepless nights and empty pockets.

Aside from this, I’m fine, and I hope you are as well. Please forgive me for sharing my troubles with you, I do not want you to worry about me when you doubtless have more pressing matters to attend to.

Please take care.

Sincerely yours, Sophia Ashe

* 

[January 1895]

Dear Arthur,

I wish you and everyone in the camp a very Happy New Year!

I hope you’re well. Life here isn’t too exciting, I can’t say much has changed since I sent my last letter, except for this growing sense of loneliness. One of the girls I’m working with, Annie, is getting married soon and will be moving to another town. We’ve been getting along so well, and of course I’m happy for her and wishing her the best, but at the same time it fills me with sorrow because I will be left alone once again.

At least the days are getting longer. Inspired by you, I have taken up drawing again recently and while my artistic abilities are not on par with yours, it’s helping me get through this melancholic time of the year. I have also decided to expand my horizons and got myself an easel and some other supplies for painting, hopefully I’ll be able to put them to use soon. Enclosed are some of the newest additions of my little gallery, I hope they bring you at least a little joy. I miss seeing your smile.

Sincerely yours, Sophia

* 

[February 1895]

My dear Arthur,

I must apologize for my delayed letter, work consumes most of my time these days and I rarely find the time to put my thoughts on the paper in a manner that’s worth reading.

Annie got married and moved away with her husband, and here I am, on my own again. Oh, what I would do to have people I can trust around me. I miss you more and more every day and I wish I heard anything from you or was given even a small sign that you’re still alive. All this silence has left me doubting the effectiveness of postal services, but it may as well be something else, I am not sure. At least this is what I keep telling myself.

I pray for your safety every day and I will not stop praying until I know all is well with you.

Your sincere friend, Sophia

P.S. Sunflower is getting better. She’s starting to resemble her old self and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder.

* 

[March 1895]

My dearest Arthur,

Spring has come again, and with it, the longest winter of my life is finally over – just as I hope my time in this town is drawing to a close.

I rode out with Sunflower a couple days ago to see the first flowers in the woods. Words can hardly express what a wonderful feeling it is to witness life spring forth once more, to cherish these things that seem so mundane… the gentle breeze, the little green buds on the branches, the dewdrops on the grass. Few people can appreciate that, and I am constantly reminded that you are one of them. I would give anything to have you here by my side and watch you fill your journal with pictures of all of those small wonders nature has to offer.

My heart is aching in ways I never thought possible. The fates of my previous letters are unknown to me and I doubt you will receive this one either, yet I’m still choosing to make a fool of myself for one last time and tell you this: you will always be in my heart. Even though sometimes it felt like I was throwing myself against a stone wall, the man I saw through the cracks made up for everything. I want you to know that your friendship meant the world to me. It still does, and I regret not telling you sooner.

I keep holding out hope that I will see you again one day, whenever you decide to find your way back to me.

Forever yours, Sophia

* 

* 

* 

[writingbecauserealitysucks]

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Spoilers

So, I have been thinking about some of the books I have read recently, and one of my favs is Perks of Being a Wallflower. I watched the movie and read the book in the same day, so safe to say I loved it through and through though I was skeptical at first, I am extremely thankful I finished it.

So as for this book I have a question as well as a theory.

In the beginning Charlie, our main character is writing a letter to a person anonymously. Never once in the book was there a part where the author or main character said or named who he was writing to. It was always "Dear Friend."

So as far as I understand, the entire book is letters to a random old classmate who he found the postal address to and began writing letters to them as a way to vent. But who is this mystery character? Like it feels like such an important part of the story, yet we never find out who it is.

My theory is, and this is only based on one letter at the end of the book, but I believe that the author was trying to subtly write letters to his audience.

The story is quite obviously a coming-of-age book where the author's purpose in writing it was to help his readers. There was a lot of great one liners on advice, as well as the story itself is about maturing and the things that come with growing up.

It would stand to reason then that the author was intending for the letters to be written as addressed to the reader.

I'm not talking about the audience as an overarching idea but a single reader. The one who is immersed in the book they are currently reading. I think it could be that the author wanted for each person that read his book to feel like they were a part of the story. You are put in the shoes of an unnamed person who we have very little info about and so only you can decide on who they really are, the only thing you know is that you are reading a bunch of letters, (like the person that is receiving them. )

The last letter though I can't remember exactly why, but it really gave me the impression that this was true but if you all have any of thoughts to weigh in on this I would love to know.

But regardless of all of that I loved this book and I think there is a lot of great life lessons in it. This is one of my only books I would recommend to anyone no matter what. Just because of the sheer amount of wisdom the story contained.

[saskiasabri]

Brooo im so sorry about these cringe trolls and instigators trying to start shit with you guys over petty stuff because they've been stuck with their own grudges that they can't fix. But at the same time there are A LOT of minors in the Postal fandom who are filled teenage angst and drama is going to sprout like weeds. And as a minor myself i admit Postal's themes in the franchise aren't exactly kid-friendly either. Oops! 💀💀💀

Sadly even the most fit and organized fandoms aren't free from drama, but from someone who has recently got into newer fandom spaces myself, less shit seems to resurface when people are just simply treated better. Out in the open or behind closed doors.

Sometimes amends can't always be met and people aren't very forgiving, trusting or kind by default, and that's fine. But I believe everyone can be shown their intentions are not always ill when we come together as a community and prove that not everyone is only after themselves. You guys are obviously trying your best online and irl and I hate to go anon like this but I too wanna start 2024 with no drama because that's what destroys a good community. 🙌🙌🙌

Sorry if my message tone sounds rude at some points. English is not my first But I just wanted to spread some positivity for once after so much happened in 2023. There's already a lot of evil in this world and the best we can do is be kind to one another with no strings attached.

❤🧡💛

thank you for ur concern and understanding the situation ❤❤❤ yea it sucks when fandoms can't be free from drama and it always happens. but y'know, it'll be fine as long as u don't get involved to it if it has nothing to do with u. i think minors in the Postal fandom can enjoy the game all they want as long as they're careful around other fans cuz there always will be those who will cause problems and say shit like "minors are annoying trying to be in adult spaces" or smth like that which pisses me off a lot cuz if they're enjoying the content then let them be, but if anything from the game offends them then that's their problem and they should know Postal isn't really for kids and the game already gave a warning in pop-up(?) screen before playing. it's best for them not to get into it, suggesting them to think first or else they'll start causing a scene. (the game itself is not really offensive, well to me atleast.) anyways, we're just doing our job as rws server staff, if anything happens then we'll take care of it if reported. we may not respond to random messages cuz we're mostly busy focusing on important stuff or we're just not in the mood. we do care for other members, we'll help as best as we could. we may not get to help much when it comes to real life personal problems, we're not professionals so they should know that.

(also thank you so much for the positivity, i hope everything in 2024 goes better for u and others who are reading this 💖💖💖)