#I imagine her tattoos are different phrases that she really enjoys and maybe a few doodles here and there

[mci-writing]

Hi I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a senku x female reader where he has a crush on an older tattooed foreigner who was on vacation in Japan when the world was petrified

I've had this sitting for a minute tbh, but mostly bc I didn't want there to be too many spoilers for anime-onlys 😭😭 mostly for how tattoos work,,, Don’t be surprised if there’s a heavy focus on language plot wise, I’ve been working on a lot of linguistics homework 😞

Anyways, hope you enjoy

Science Makes Age Complicated (Ishigami Senku x Reader):

Warnings: technically an age gap but also not (reader was once 2 years older than Senkuu, but now they're the same age due to time shenanigans), fem!reader, some language use (a few swears here and there), reader is American (RIP but it’s plot relevant), reader is implied to know an insane amount of languages (bc this is Dr Stone and it’s relevant to world-building)

"Think you can scrounge something up for her, Yuzuriha?" Senku parts the lush shrubbery for his friend, unresponsive to her obvious surprise at the sight before her. He figured it would go that way, considering how kept away the whole area is, but he'd rather start the spectacle with her big reactions instead of the loud and boisterous version involving the rest of their crew, "I'm more than sure you'll manage to make her something she's 1 billion percent comfortable in."

He'd considered this statue his secret weapon for the next part of their excursion. Well, that would be his explanation as to why he'd waited so long to unveil her and finally free her from her encasement. Really, he could never find the proper time to finally revive her, especially when every time it would feel right to, something else would arise that would require them to use the revival fluid for someone else.

When talks of traveling to the Americas came up, he knew it'd be the perfect time to properly reveal her and, hopefully, ease her into their current predicament. While Gen is a great diplomat, thew mentalist isn't exactly fluent in as many languages as the girl in the statue before them. Even more, if they are to run into more people (which they very likely are), it's better to have at least two representatives to talk things over. That's going to be his reasoning, anyway.

Deep down, he's a little nervous to finally see her again, especially now that he's technically older than her by a few months at least. The last time they'd seen each other had been the day before the petrification light, the two decided to spend time with each other before he went back to school. She was visiting Japan for a bit, a trip she'd planned to make at least once a year since the two had officially met in person while he had been in America. Back then, she'd been 17 to his 15, owning an American driver's license and a tattoo sleeve that left many of the older members of society scandalized.

"I don't think she's going to take being younger than us well," Yuzuriha mentions as she finishes up sewing the outfit she'd made for (Y/n). She worked fast, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead once she finished. She takes a step back once she's finished, watching as Senku steps forward, "Especially when she finds out how long it took for you to bring her back."

"She'll be fine. I'm 1 billion percent sure she's going to be grateful for it," He responds, popping the top off the tiny vial between his fingers. He doesn't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he lets the contents of the vial drip from the top of her head. The two watch expectedly as it eases its way down her body, stone cracking and parting in its wake, “She’s going to get to visit home, after all.”

The stone falls from her body, the life slowly coming back into her (e/c) orbs as more of her skin is revealed. Her tattooed sleeve remains, now accompanied by the petrification markings on her face and other parts of her body. A wave of confusion hits her as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings, but her shoulders relax a little as she takes in the two familiar figures next to her, "Senku...? Yuzuriha...?" "Hey, (Y/n)," He immediately greets in response, an excited light coming to his eyes as ruby meets (e/c), "Looks like we're the same age now."

Yuzuriha flinches at his greeting, sighing with a shake of her head as she takes a small step closer to their friend. A nervous smile forms on her lips as she takes (Y/n) hands into her own, leading her out of the hidden away area into the light of the new world. She feels the grip tighten as (e/c) eyes dart around the surrounding forestry in an attempt to better understand the circumstances and environment, "We have a lot to catch you up on, but I'm sure if we ease you in slowly it won't cause you too much whiplash-"

"We don't have time for that, Yuzuriha. We still have to load the ship back up and travel to America," Senku waves the notion off, walking past the two of them and leading them back into the village. Neither of the girls miss the smirk on his face as he continues, unmoving as they gape at him like fish, "(Y/n) will catch up along the way."

He's bluffing, which they realize a little later when Ryusui recounts the plan to spend the next few days loading the ship and replacing the items they used on their last voyage. (Y/n) is assimilated faster into their new society than she can process, the rest of their group taking the basic information they're fed and working with it. Yuzuriha is eventually forced to leave her to fend for her own after a bit to attend to her own assignments and Taiju only stops to catch up for a bit (which is mostly him speed talking and making assumptions about how much she's been made aware of) before continuing to move along.

Senku doubts he'll ever admit it out loud, but he is grateful that they're the same age, even if he's technically older by a few months now. Standing next to (Y/n), who hadn't aged a day past the last time he'd seen her, was the reassurance he secretly needed about his own development. While his growth spurt, a result of the final pushes of puberty during the Stone Wars and roughing it during the New Stone Age, was the only difference he could notice next to her, (Y/n) had been hit with the whiplash of every other development.

To her, it felt like both a lifetime and a long night since she had seen Senku, yet he looked almost completely different and exactly the same. The remainder of his baby fat had rounded out of his cheeks, his face maturing nicely into that of a young adult, and he'd sprung up quite a bit in height. He was still lithe in comparison to Taiju, till thin and very much not built for too much physical labor, but he'd gotten a bit of meat on his bones to fill his arms out a little more. Despite that, he still looked like him, like the jerky boy she'd met by chance in middle school who would be the first person she'd show her newest tattoos to when she was 16 to get some kind of rise out of him.

Taiju and Yuzuriha were a further reminder of the weird passage of time, the two more developed in their own rights. He was beefier, still ever-muscular in a more defined way. His hands seemed rougher, but she didn't know if that had been due to the rougher circumstances or if they were always meant to get so rough with all the handy work Senku would put him up to. Yuzuriha had filled out a little, a few scars littering her hands from what (Y/n) could only assume was from her thread work she'd seem to consistently be working on since they'd gotten back to their stronghold. Her silky brown hair, which had once reached her waist and made a few of the girls from their school envious of its length, now barely reached past her shoulders in its bobbed shape.

She feels so out of place...

~~~~

The rush of information coming to people’s senses is always amusing to watch, but (Y/n) is taking a little more time to process than usual. Even now, a few days into her now being free from the stone prison, she still has more questions. They aren’t particularly scientific, more so just random observations that she really wants the answers to. She’s also hyper-analyzed the villagers' speech patterns, having them repeat their newer slang and pronounce random words in Japanese, English, and German (something they did not realize they were fluent in until she came around). In return, they ask her questions about the past (mostly Senku, Yuzuriha, and Taiju), the sleeve on her arm, and why the hell she knows so many languages already.

Senku can’t really be mad about it slowly down progress, he’s sure he’d slack off a little too if they didn’t have so little time to prepare for their trip across the sea. Neither of them miss the way their eyes longingly stare at one another, meeting a few times before either is dragged away by the others they’re surrounded by. It’s even worse that (Y/n) feels she hasn’t been able to get any time alone with him since they made it to the village. She’d been made aware of their plans once her confusion died down a little, even taking the time to freshen up on the main languages she’d be focused on for their trip and doing what she can to pitch in. Unfortunately, their different preparations would barely, if ever, cross over. Lowkey, it had been killing both of them inside, but they kept up appearances for the sake of getting things done.

She’d learned from Gen, who gave her brain a break by speaking in English with her, that Senku had kept her relatively well hidden. He’d visit her often, but no one had put together that’s what he’d been doing until now. Yuzuriha made it clear she’d only learned of (Y/n)’s whereabouts a little before they’d revived her. However, the brown-haired girl did mention that a few passing statements he’d made in the past were starting to make sense.

It took the last night before the Kingdom of Science would set sail again for (Y/n) to find time away from the others. Despite the various discussions scratching her brain in the best way possible in a new world, the dark blue of the night accompanied by the low noises of crickets and crashing waves gives her the solace she needs. While everything has mostly settled, or settled as much as it can, it's still moving so fast. To her, everything was normal yesterday and then dark for longer than she thinks possible to comprehend, "Maybe this is how Sleeping Beauty felt..."

"I doubt that," A familiar voice speaks up from behind her, the heels of his shoes clopping along the ground as he approaches. The gravel scrunches as he shifts to sit next to her, deep zircon-colored eyes staring out towards the ocean's expanse. He scoots a little closer to her, his head tilting as his pinky reflexively reaches to dig out of his ear, "Considering she typically is depicted to have been a young preteen when she first fell asleep and an older teenager when she wakes, I doubt there were many technological changes to throw her for such a loop, especially if the story takes place in a fictional version of the middle ages."

His eyes shift to peak at her instead, his typical grin filing onto his face. Somehow, they're one of his few features to remain the same despite his growing age. He's one of the reasons she's out here tonight, gathering her thoughts privately one last time so she can tuck them away to focus her attention more on to returning civilization.

Of course, she always thought he was good-looking, most people did. However, where they were turned off by his passion for science and technical engineering, she found it to be all the more endearing for his character. He had his pesty moments, but so did everyone else in some way. It added to his charm, "Didn't see you as the fables type, Senku."

"Had a friend who was super into literature. She read it in different languages to challenge herself," He teases in response, his gaze turning back to the sight before them, "Wonder where she is now..."

(Y/n) tugs her knees up to her chest, the irony of the comparison not lost on her, though made completely on accident. She pulls them closer, resting her cheek on them as she takes in the boy next to her, "Maybe she's trapped somewhere in a stone prison back in the woods."

She watches his chest rumble with his chuckle, a soft breeze picking up and spreading the smell of salt water. He's closer now, the smaller changes staring her in the face and taunting her. She'd wanted him this close to her again, just for the reassurance, but now... She kind of regrets it.

"I would've found her by now," He mumbles, the sound just barely reaching her ears. A fond smile slowly eases across his mouth as he returns his gaze to her, "Would've taken me a while to finally see her like this again, but I think it'd finally be worth seeing her again. Even with the circumstances."

"I'm sure she'd be grateful to see you again too, even with the circumstances."

#ishigami senku #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senkuu #ishigami senkuu x reader #senku ishigami x reader #dr stone x reader #senkuu ishigami x reader #did not think it would get so sentimental in the end I'm so sorry #I tussled with how to write this for a year and still feel there's further ways I could've taken it but it already feels pretty long so #I may revisit this again later but I won't hold my breath either 🤧 #also had this idea that reader was Senku's interpreter in America but I didn't want to get into too much spoiler territory with that idea #she totally teaches him some silly phrases in the different languages she speaks and does mix languages up to mess with people #he doesn't realize he's into her until she goes back home one year and they fight on her way out #I imagine her tattoos are different phrases that she really enjoys and maybe a few doodles here and there #also wanted to wait until Matsukaze was introduced so ppl knew how tattoos work post petrification bc I kinda didn't wanna spoil it

[sunflower-swan]

Wolfstar Chapter 1

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius.

Day 1 Prompt: Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop AU

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1318

Tags: smoking, language

Chapter One

Remus

Randy Newman “You’ve Got a Friend in Me”

If you've got troubles, I've got 'em too

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

We stick together and can see it through

'Cause you've got a friend in me

“Missed you at the Potter’s Wheel.” Remus handed a steaming cup of coffee -- black with cream, no sugar -- to the younger man. He had grown accustomed to their morning coffee ritual, so he had worried when the other didn’t show up that day.

A bearded face peeked around the large floral arrangement. His grey eyes widened and then looked down at his watch. “Shit. I’m sorry,” Sirius apologized and accepted the cup. “We’re a little swamped at the moment,” he chuckled.

Remus looked around the Flower Loft. It didn’t seem any more crowded with floral arrangements than usual. In fact, it looked as it always did. The same cooler containing premade arrangements stood along the wall near the door -- for those spontaneous or impulsive people. Small tables containing other trinkets and tokens for sale dotted the wood floor. He couldn’t see anything different or out of place.

He looked back at Sirius. “So everything’s ok then?”

“Everything’s fine except I have two florists out sick this week, plus one on her honeymoon, which means I’m coming in early and working late this week to get our orders done on time.”

Remus noticed the dark bags under his friend's young eyes and worried that his ambition might be greater than his ability. “I grabbed a couple takeaway sandwiches, too.” He held up the wrapped sandwiches. “You need a break. Come on.” He took a sip of his mocha cappuccino and headed for the door.

Sirius followed him out the door and down the sidewalk. Remus stopped at a bench under the shade of an oak tree and they both sat down.

“Ham or chicken?” Remus asked.

“Mmm, chicken!” 

He passed the container with the chicken sandwich inside, and Sirius ripped into the package.

“Fank ‘oo,” he said through a mouthful of sandwich. Swallowing the bite he asked, “What would I do without you, Remus?”

“Learn to take care of yourself, I imagine.” Remus chuckled to himself. If only that were possible. Or if only I could learn to let you.

Sirius stretched his legs out with a sigh, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Silas doesn’t like me working all these hours.”

Ah, yes. Silas. Remus scarcely avoided rolling his eyes.

Silas was Sirius’ younger boyfriend who was studying something to do with animals. Remus wasn’t really sure because Sirius had never been very forthcoming with the details of his boyfriend’s profession. Over the last couple months in which their relationship had grown more serious, he had tried really hard to be nice to the young man despite the significant instinct he felt to be anything but.

Preferring to avoid Silas conversation, he gave Sirius a noncommittal, “Hm?” through his mouthful of ham sandwich. Even if he also thought Sirius was working too hard, he wasn’t going to admit out loud that he agreed with Silas.

“Yeah. Between his work stuff and me at the Flower Loft, it doesn’t leave much time or energy for … you know, boyfriend stuff.” Sirius shrugged and took another bite of sandwich.

Oh, Godric. Boyfriend stuff?! Remus was in agony. This was neither the time, nor the place to contemplate Sirius and…‘boyfriend stuff.’ How can I steer this subject away from Silas?

“Hem,” he coughed. “So, how’s the guitar playing?”

“Oh, man!” Sirius leaned forward with enthusiasm. “It’s awesome! Difficult as hell, but awesome!” 

“What are you working on right now?” Remus inquired. He was eager to keep the conversation on a safe subject. Music was one of the few things, apart from floristry, in which Sirius had a true passion.

“‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis.”

And off Sirius went on a long-winded explanation about the ins and outs of music, and chord shapes, and who knew what else. Remus didn’t understand half of what Sirius said, but he enjoyed listening. Watching the way Sirius’ eyes would light up; the way his hand gestures would grow more wild when he got over-excited; the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled...Remus liked it when Sirius was happy.

He was in awe of this warm and sweet man. Regardless of the tingle he felt inside himself anytime he was in close proximity to Sirius, he buried those feelings. It was safer that way. For both of them.

Sirius finished his sandwich in between pauses, and lit up a cigarette.

“That shit is terrible for you,” Remus admonished him for the millionth time.

“That’s what you keep telling me,” Sirius responded, blowing a puff of smoke up and away, so as to not offend Remus’ sensitivities.

It didn’t help. His senses were more delicate than the average person.

Sirius stood up and stretched his hands over his head. The front hem of his shirt came untucked from his jeans, and a sliver of tan abdomen was visible. Remus felt himself flush and he looked away.

“Thanks for the break, Remus. I have to get back though.” Sirius gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Flowers won’t arrange themselves, unfortunately.”

Remus nodded and looked at his watch as he stood. “I have an appointment coming in about ten minutes anyway, so I need to get back too.”

“What are you working on today?” Sirius asked as they began the walk back to their respective shops.

“Finishing a sleeve for an Irish fella. Started it almost a year ago.” 

The pair reached the Loft. “Maybe one day I’ll let you do me,” Sirius said with a playful smirk.

Phrasing. “You figure out what you want, and let me know,” Remus responded as level as possible.

Sirius barked a laugh and opened the door to the shop. “See you later, Remus.”

Remus waved good-bye and went next door to his tattoo parlor. Once inside he shut the door and leaned his forehead against it.

“Fucking hell.”

Remus banged his head a few times against the door, hoping against hope that he could knock some sense into his skull. Does he say shit like that on purpose? Taking a breath, Remus stood up straight, and pulled his wand out of his jacket pocket. He checked that the gold suede curtains were pulled closed over the front bay window and gave a complicated wave of his wand. His tattooing equipment sprang to life and set themselves up just how he liked. 

Even though Remus had chosen a corner of Muggle London to set up his shop, in no way did it mean he had abandoned magic. Separating himself from the magical world wasn’t without its drawbacks, and he had to be more careful about not breaking the Statue of Secrecy, but the change had been necessary. It wasn’t too bad now he was accustomed to it.

~~~~~

The afternoon passed without incident. The Irishman’s last sleeve session lasted a good couple hours, and Remus was proud of the finished product. He had a couple walk-ins later on, but nothing came of them. Slow day overall.

He was leaned back in a chair with his feet propped on the desk, flipping through the latest issue of Inked, when Sirius came through the door.

“You made a tattoo decision then? That was quick,” Remus joked.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “No. I came to see if I could buy you a bite from Potter’s.” Sirius shifted his feet with his hands in his pockets and looked down. “You got me some earlier and all.”

Remus studied the younger man. Why did he seem … embarrassed? Shy? “You don’t owe me for that,” he replied, with a wave of his hand. Remus closed the magazine and stood up.

“Well, then I want to.” Sirius smiled at Remus now. “My treat.”

Remus shrugged. “All right,” he said. “It’s been slow as hell here today anyway. Let’s go see what specials James and Lily have today.”

Remus locked the door to the tattoo parlor and the pair walked across the street to the Potter’s Wheel Cafe.

A/N: The name of Sirius’ flower shop comes from the name of the flower shop in my hometown. The Flower Loft was on Main Street, which wasn’t actually named “Main Street.” It was one of two highways that intersected the small town in which I went to public school, and made some of my life-long best friends. “Main Street” was the “main drag” -- as we small town folks say -- and it was where 90% of the town's businesses resided. This chapter is dedicated to my first friend: my little sister. She is not only my sister, a mother to my two adorable nephews, and sender of spicy Harry Potter memes. She is also my number one beta reader. Our perfectionist and competitive spirits were bred into us and she doesn’t let me get away with crap writing. I love ya, Sis! Thanks for reading my words.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #alternate universe

[apopple]

august challenge task #3 – questionnaire

the basics

What is your celebrity’s full name?  Anna Katherine Popplewell

Do they have any nicknames? Go by any other names?  Popples, Mum, Mummy, Anna, Annie

What is their birthday? December 16, 1988

Where were they born?   London, England

Where were they raised?  London, England.

Where in Bayview do they live?  She lives in the suburbs.

How long have they lived in town?  Jun. 29, 2015

physical appearance

What is your celebrity’s general build?  Anna is 5’3”. She’s short and thin.  She does have a few curves thanks to the wonders of childbirth.  

What is their natural hair color? She has dark brunette hair.

If their hair color has changed, what is it now?  It’s the same as it has always been.

What is your celebrity’s eye color? She has blue eyes.

Do they wear glasses or contacts? Neither.

What is your celebrity’s best asset?  It’s definitely going to be her freckles.  She wears them loud and proud.

What is something they’re insecure about?  She’s always felt a little insecure about how short she is.

Do they have any piercings? Her ears are pierced.

How about tattoos? She doesn’t have any tattoos.

Any prominent scars with good stories behind them?  She has a c-section scar from when she gave birth to Benjamin. It’s faded a bit over the years but it’s still noticeable to her. She got a kid out of the deal so it’s definitely worth a scar.

Does your celebrity regularly wear make-up?  Anna pretty much doesn’t wear makeup aside from maybe a hint of tinted chapstick most days of the week. She will put on extra makeup if she’s going out to a nice dinner or dress up event though.

What’s their skincare routine like?  She prays to God she can have five seconds to wash her face and put a little moisturizer and toner on it.

How does your celebrity dress on the average, every day?  Anna has lots of jeans, pants and sweaters.  She loves a good sweater and legging combination in the winter.  

What about for more dress-up, formal days?  She has no problem wearing a nice dress. She doesn’t tend to show off a lot of skin but occasionally she will show a tease of it.  She’s not very flashy.

 the early years

What was your celebrity like as a child?  Anna was quiet, standoffish.  She’s always been focused and intelligent. As a child, she spent a lot of time in books. She started acting at a young age so it’s always been a part of her life.

How about the teen years?  She had some of her biggest films during her teen years. She had to divide her time between sets and studies. She and her parents wanted her to have as much of a normal life and education as possible. Just because her passion was for acting, it didn’t mean an education didn’t have value.

What kind of life did your celebrity have growing up? Anna grew up with two loving parents and a stable home environment. Her parents and siblings kept her grounded despite her early beginnings in the entertainment industry.

What were your celebrity’s goals as a younger person?   She’s pretty much always acted and wanted to act.  On a personal level, she wanted a great family and someone to love her unconditionally.

Is there a smell that reminds them of childhood?  That salty beach smell always makes her think about her grandparent’s cottage.

How about a favorite movie, TV show or toy?   She’s always been very much a book girl.

What advice would your celebrity give to their younger self?  Don’t be afraid to take chances, they’ll pay off in the end.

Did your celebrity play any sports growing up?   She’s always been surrounded by rugby and soccer. She can hold her own in some footie even if she’s never played it on a competitive team for anything more than charity.

 the family tree

Who is in their immediate family?  She is happily married to Bradley James and they have two incredible boys Benjamin and Augustus. She also considers their cats Lola, Arthur and Ziggy part of the family.  

What’s their extended family like? This would include her parents and siblings Freddie and Lulu plus all of Bradley’s family.  She had several cousins and is lucky enough to still have a living grandfather who regularly sends over the top gifts for the boys.

What does family mean to your celebrity?  Family is truly something special and is meant to be cherished.  She believes in being loyal and protective of family.  They are everything to her.

Are they close to their family in general?  She considers herself close with her family even though they are far, far away beyond her immediate family.

Who in their family are they closest to?  In her extended family, it would probably be Lulu. There is a sisterly bond that just never ends.

Does your celebrity have any children?  Yes,  the two sons mentioned above.

If they do not have children, do they want any someday?   N/A

If they do have children, do they want more children?  Anna and Bradley sort of put a pause on the children thing for a while but they’ve been talking about adding to the family a bit lately.  There is definitely room for more children in their household though maybe just one more. Truthfully though, they’d be happy with any children they have planned or not.  If they only end up with the two they currently have, Anna would be grateful they were blessed with them even if she would be a little sad to never get to try her hand at having a little girl.

 love and friendships

Is your celebrity currently in a relationship?  She’s married.

What is the longest relationship your celebrity has ever been in?   It’s safe to say that after  five years, her husband is the longest relationship she’s ever had.  

If it’s not their current relationship, why did it end?   N/A

What’s the shortest relationship your celebrity has ever been in?  She dated a guy for a few months once.

If it’s not their current relationship, why did it end?   It just wasn’t a good fit.

Is your celebrity into PDA, or more private?   Anna is definitely someone who tends to keep a lot of her life private though she doesn’t mind holding hands of showing affection toward her husband or children in public.  She isn’t going to take it too far out in the open though.  What she does when she doesn’t think people are looking is a different story all together.

How do they display affection to others?   She absolutely dotes on the people she loves. Sometimes that means making special meals just because she knows that they like it.  She will go above and beyond to make sure the people in her life have what they need. She also tells them regularly how much she loves them.  

What is your celebrity’s current sex life like?   It’s pretty good despite the fact there is always a child calling for mom or dad.   They make time for it even if it is a quickie while the boys are taking a nap.

What sort of relationship does your celebrity look for?    Anna likes feeling safe and secure.  There always have to be agreement but there has to be a certain level of compromise on disagreements. It’s about give and take.  More than anything it’s just a natural feeling of desire to be near someone and she’s always had that with Bradley.

Do they feel happiest when they’re in a relationship, or single?   She can’t imagine life any other way than with her family at this point so I guess relationship.

What does your celebrity look for in their friendships?   It is important to her that her friends and she share a mutual level of respect and honestly.  Life is busy when there are children involved so it is vital that they understand that she cannot always go out and do the things she did before she had children. She just wants people who will make her laugh and that she can have meaningful conversations with.

Are they the type of person to have a small group of friends, or large?  She has a lot of friends but sort of prefers small groups.

In friendships, is your celebrity more of the giver or taker?  She is a giver.

Has your celebrity ever had to end a friendship with someone?  She had grown apart from people, mostly because they didn’t fit well in each other’s life.

 the things that they do

What does your celebrity do for a living? She is an actress.

If they could choose any other career, what would it be?  She’d probably have ended up a writer.

When growing up, what did they want to do? She’s always wanted to act.

Do they enjoy their current job? There is nothing better than being an actress and a mom.

What about hobbies, what do they like to do?  She enjoys fingerpainting with the boys, playing in the backyard, going on walks, reading books and sneaking in a little romance with her husband when they can.

As far as school goes, how far did they take their education? She completed University.  

If they had to go (back) to school, what would it be for?  Maybe she’d get her Masters in Fine Arts.

 the fun stuff

Are there phrases or words your celebrity uses a lot?  “Not the walls”.

Would you say they’re optimistic or pessimistic? She is an idealistic, realist.  Somewhere in the middle.

How about introverted or extroverted? She is introverted for the most part.

Do they have any really bad habits? She sometime eats crisps in bed and leave crumbs. She also loves putting her cold feet on her husband.

What is something that always makes them laugh? When the boys throw fits over ridiculous things.

And something that always makes them cry?  When someone she cares about it hurting.

How would your celebrity like to be seen by others?  She would like to be seen as good wife and mother.

And how do they feel others actually see them?  Hopefully as good wife and mother.

What are some of their strongest (positive) traits?  She is nurturing, kind and intelligent.

What are some of their weakest (negative) traits?  She can be a bit neurotic at times, critical when she completely disagrees with something and come off as cold but is just a little closed off sometimes around people she doesn’t know well.

How do they react when someone pays them a compliment?  She would be humble but grateful.

But how do they react to criticism? She would try and not to let it bother her but accept it for what it is.  

What is your celebrity’s biggest fear? Something horrible happening to Bradley or the children.

Are they more of an indoors or outdoors person? She’s a homebody.

What are some of their pet peeves?   People who always try and upstage other people in their big moments.  

Are they the type of person to fight with violence or words?  She isn’t a fighter. She’d prefer to just let people be  but if she had to do something, it would be words.

What is your celebrity’s favorite day of the week?   She doesn’t really have a favorite. They are all good for different reasons.

Are they more of a book or movie type of person? She would rather read a book than watch a movie any day of the week.

Is your celebrity more of a hoarder or a minimalist? She’s probably closer to hoarder especially when books but she keeps a tidy house.

How is your celebrity with technology?  She can do what needs to get done but she really isn’t the keen on social media. It’s just such a negative place.

#bviewtask

[roguebotanist]

I’ve been playing around with talk to transformer today and thought it would be fun to extend a bunch of sim bios! I think someone may have done something similar recently, but I’m not really sure. Anyway, here’s every sim in Strangetown (bolded parts are their original bios). Long post ahead:

Loki Beaker

As soon as he perfects his latest invention, Loki is sure to get the recognition he knows he deserves. In the meantime, he keeps himself busy by trying to assemble a nuclear reactor out of common household items. During one of his experiments, he accidentally melts the family dog. Realizing that his so-called tools of destruction are so harmless, Loki gladly takes his pet back home and happily adopts it. Fearing that the strange creature will cause more damage if he is ever left alone, Loki goes to great lengths to keep it, including stacking hundreds of baby chicken eggs in the backyard.

Circe Beaker

Circe knows 238 different ways to make someone scream, and none of them are nice. She enjoys taxidermy and collecting coat hangers. She has a wonderful knowledge of names and an affinity for Hallmark, which is why all her books are centered around Christmas and spring holidays. This is particularly important to her, as her whole life is completely shaped by them. The children love to ask questions about things, and they are able to make up as many of the answers as they like. Do you have a huge embarrassment problem? One of Circe's known phrases is 'Where's the finger in your back pocket?'.

Sometimes in the garden, she prances

Nervous Subject

His hobbies include twitching and blinking a lot. He's also fond of travelling and baking. Along with the broad and meaty teeth of a canine, St George the giant groundhog has a day-old beard and a partial gingivitis – which is the inflammation of a plaque inside the teeth. His beard and gingivitis don't hurt his routine; they just mean he's a bit slower and a bit more circumspect.

That's because he's aged.

Olive Specter (yes, it gave her stats)

Olive will stop at nothing to get what she wants. She spends her time collecting mushrooms, sharpening sticks, and excavating her yard. As you might expect, she has a big appetite, and eats anything that she thinks is good enough for her. She's as much of a carnivore as you are, and is able to catch fish or birds at the least opportunity. She doesn't bother with plants, and prefers to live in areas full of food.

Alignment: Neutral evil

Hit Dice: 1d8+2

Speed: 30 feet

Ophelia Nigmos (this one is unsettling and strangely coherent)

Ophelia's hobbies include hypochondria and monitoring the air quality. She worries about the future... and the past... and the present. Especially right now.

Her past memories have become like mantras, repeating over and over in her head. They are the most important thing to her. This time, she's not sure she will remember them the way she did before. She's aching to go back and erase her past.

That which is most important to her--the things she left behind--has been forgotten. And nobody can help her. Nobody.

PT9 Smith

The only thing PT9 loves more than his lawn is his family. When he is not spending time with his children, he enjoys clipping coupons and staring up at the sky. Over the years PT9 has found his place in the aquarium world. He has helped educate people on different types of fish and he has hosted various education seminars for clients who have "fish stories" to share. In his spare time, PT9 enjoys spending time with his wife and his grandchildren.

Jenny Smith

Jenny loves having a career, but she wishes she could spend more time with her family, and maybe make some new friends. She really likes green. She wishes she had more friends. She wishes her mom would talk to her more often. She wishes she had nicer hair. She wishes her nose looked like a horse's. She has a lot of sympathy for humans and hopes to see one in the future. Jenny is a cross between a cat and a dog with a medium build, no special traits, but that means she's got a lot of muscle and a huge body

Johnny Smith

Johnny dreams of being the hero that rides in on a white horse, or at least a cool sports car. He'd go on to become the worst Superhero in all of space and time, which I guess is exactly what a normal, human teenage boy would do.

Jill Smith

When Jill closes her eyes, she sees dolphins. She has her heart set on becoming a deep sea welder someday. She loves dolphins so much, she's often put one in the trunk of her car and hit the gas to cheer her up.

"I love them so much," Jill declares. "I'm a Dolphin Lover."

Pascal Curious

No matter what happens, Pascal believes there is a logical explanation for everything. In his free time, he practices home psychoanalysis and collects conspiracy theories. He's become adept at opening jars containing creepy little bones or fragments of jellyfish, an odd skill in the world of ponysaurus hunting.

"I have been extremely lucky with bone fragments and that's not even being exaggerating," Pascal said.

Vidcund Curious

Serious and exact, Vidcund strives to fit the universe into a nice tidy package. He has an unnatural fondness for African violets. He is literally covered in them, from head to toe, if not technically. This is an odd love-hate relationship, a love-love and a hate-hate; that leaves us to sit and imagine the potential war between the vine and the earth.

Lazlo (”Twilight”) Curious

Not as studious as his older brothers, Lazlo got his degree in Phrenology. He likes to call phone psychics and spends hours trying to bend forks with his mind. His middle name is "Twilight" because his father was a vampire. He hates flowers.

General Buzz Grunt

The General likes to have his clocks set to military time. He used to enjoy barbershop quartet singing, but that is classified information. It's unknown when he fell in love, but it's possible that he was one of the first humans to understand the concept of love.

Tank Grunt

Tank Grunt wants to be just like his old man. He spends his days lifting heavy things, dodging imaginary bullets, and being bigger than the other guy, but deep down inside, he wonders if anyone really knows who he is. He hates it when his grandmother wants him to call her "Mama" and his grandma is pissed, and he just wants to stay in the dark and get away from the boring world around him. If he could just learn to love himself, he'd be unstoppable.

Ripp Grunt

Ripp totally doesn't care what you think of him. He is going to do whatever he wants to do, which is mostly what everyone else is doing. He has this whimsical desire to show off his tattoos, even though they give me nightmares (sometimes it feels like these tattoos are like a big torture device). He is hyperbolic and outrageous and uncouth and rude to the point that he's almost comical.

Buck Grunt

More than anything else, Buck wants to be a pet stylist to the stars. He spends a lot of time wondering why his father never seems to notice him.

"I want to have big hands and big feet, and I'm hoping I'm going to end up a couple of feet longer than my parents are," Buck said. "My Dad tells me a lot of things like, 'My son is going to be that guy who gets attention by the funnest side of you you've ever seen.' "

Cousins' health makes him optimistic about his prospects

Ajay Loner

To pass the hours, Ajay enjoys counting the grains of sand in his backyard. He may be about to blow his last few thousand, so he worries no more. "You can always count them. You just have to keep on keeping on," he says.

Chloe Curious

The complete opposite of her sister, Chloe just wants to meet new people and to have a good time. She can often be found daydreaming or chatting on the phone. She is very positive and has a creative mind, a big help when composing mean tweets. She always makes sure she keeps her emotions under control and is not too outgoing in social situations.

Lola Curious

Intelligent and focused, Lola knows what she wants and how to get it. She enjoys politics and telling those around her what to do. She keeps her enemies close and keeps a close eye on her enemies' backbones. Her love of Doctor Who and her interest in exploration drive her to travel the galaxy.

Erin Beaker

Erin spends a lot of time working on her psychic powers. Of course, she isn't really psychic, but don't tell her that. Erin's already a pro at picking out great dates with potential future partners. Nothing beats having a psychic date.

Kristen Singles

Kristen envisions herself as a world famous sports champion. She doesn't particularly care for Strangetown, but it's only a pit stop on her track to greatness. As much as she hates to admit it, her talent has never been in question, but that's not stopping her from strutting and parading around town in a T-shirt advertising her skills. She's no longer treating her sport as a game, but instead is obsessed with her prowess as a self proclaimed "muscle mom." 

#ts2 #long post #this took HOURS bc I wanted them to all be at least mildly entertaining #I think buck's is my favorite

[your-white-mustang]

08/06/2019

Men always say that as the defining compliment, don’t they? She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl.


Men actually think this girl exists. Maybe they’re fooled because so many women are willing to pretend to be this girl. For a long time Cool Girl offended me. I used to see men – friends, coworkers, strangers – giddy over these awful pretender women, and I’d want to sit these men down and calmly say: You are not dating a woman, you are dating a woman who has watched too many movies written by socially awkward men who’d like to believe that this kind of woman exists and might kiss them. I’d want to grab the poor guy by his lapels or messenger bag and say: The bitch doesn’t really love chili dogs that much – no one loves chili dogs that much! And the Cool Girls are even more pathetic: They’re not even pretending to be the woman they want to be, they’re pretending to be the woman a man wants them to be. Oh, and if you’re not a Cool Girl, I beg you not to believe that your man doesn’t want the Cool Girl. It may be a slightly different version – maybe he’s a vegetarian, so Cool Girl loves seitan and is great with dogs; or maybe he’s a hipster artist, so Cool Girl is a tattooed, bespectacled nerd who loves comics. There are variations to the window dressing, but believe me, he wants Cool Girl, who is basically the girl who likes every fucking thing he likes and doesn’t ever complain. (How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: “I like strong women.” If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.”)

I waited patiently – years – for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to love cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we’d say, Yeah, he’s a Cool Guy. But it never happened. Instead, women across the nation colluded in our degradation! Pretty soon Cool Girl became the standard girl. Men believed she existed – she wasn’t just a dreamgirl one in a million. Every girl was supposed to be this girl, and if you weren’t, then there was something wrong with you.

But it’s tempting to be Cool Girl. For someone like me, who likes to win, it’s tempting to want to be the girl every guy wants. When I met Nick, I knew immediately that was what he wanted, and for him, I guess I was willing to try. I will accept my portion of blame. The thing is, I was crazy about him at first. I found him perversely exotic, a good ole Missouri boy. He was so damn nice to be around. He teased things out in me that I didn’t know existed: a lightness, a humor, an ease. It was as if he hollowed me out and filled me with feathers. He helped me be Cool Girl – I couldn’t have been Cool Girl with anyone else. I wouldn’t have wanted to. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it: I ate a MoonPie,  I walked barefoot, I stopped worrying. I watched dumb movies and ate chemically laced foods. I didn’t think past the first step of anything, that was the key. I drank a Coke and didn’t worry about how to recycle the can or about the acid puddling in my belly, acid so powerful it could strip clean a penny. We went to a dumb movie and I didn’t worry about the offensive sexism or the lack of minorities in meaningful roles. I didn’t even worry whether the movie made sense. I didn’t worry about anything that came next. Nothing had consequence, I was living in the moment, and I could feel myself getting shallower and dumber. But also happy.

[...]

With Nick, I understood finally. Because he was so much fun. It was like dating a sea otter. He was the first naturally happy person I met who was my equal. He was brilliant and gorgeous and funny and charming and charmed. People liked him. Women loved him. I thought we would be the most perfect union: the happiest couple around. Not that love is a competition. But I don’t understand the point of being together if you’re not the happiest.

I was probably happier for those few years – pretending to be someone else – than I ever have been before or after. I can’t decide what that means.

But then it had to stop, because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me, Nick! I thought you knew. I thought it was a bit of a game. I thought we had a wink-wink, don’t ask, don’t tell thing going. I tried so hard to be easy. But it was unsustainable. It turned out he couldn’t sustain his side either: the witty banter, the clever games, the romance, and the wooing. It all started collapsing on itself. I hated Nick for being surprised when I became me. I hated him for not knowing it had to end, for truly believing he had married this creature, this figment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men, semen-fingered and self-satisfied. He truly seemed astonished when I asked him to listen to me. He couldn’t believe I didn’t love wax-stripping my pussy raw and blowing him on request. That I did mind when he didn’t show up for drinks with my friends. That ludicrous diary entry? I don’t need pathetic dancing-monkey scenarios to repeat to my friends, I am content with letting him be himself. That was pure, dumb Cool Girl bullshit. What a cunt. Again, I don’t get it: If you let a man cancel plans or decline to do things for you, you lose. You don’t get what you want. It’s pretty clear. Sure, he may be happy, he may say you’re the coolest girl ever, but he’s saying it because he got his way. He’s calling you a Cool Girl to fool you! That’s what men do: They try to make it sound like you are the Cool Girl so you will bow to their wishes. Like a car salesman saying, How much do you want to pay for this beauty? when you didn’t agree to buy it yet. That awful phrase men use: “I mean, I know you wouldn’t mind if I ...” Yes, I do mind. Just say it. Don’t lose, you dumb little twat.

~ “Gone Girl”

#gonegirl #gone girl #amy dunne #amy elliott dunne #gillian flynn #nick dunne #cool girl #cool girl monologue

[thephoenixmagician]

Adara Orasa || Character Survey

And another, for my other child. Again, from @cela-astral-projection

Gonna be long so, it’s under the cut!

Basic Questions

First name?:  Adara

Surname?: Orasa

Middle Names?:  Nowel

Nicknames?:  Ada, The Seeress, The Iron Diplomat

Date of Birth?: September 13

Age?: Early twenties.

Physical Appearance

Height?:  5’ 4”

Weight?:  140lbs

Build?:  Lean

Hair Color?:  Pastel pink, almost silver

Hairstyle?:  Usually down and wavy, but will sweep it back into a bun

Eye Color?: Light jade that can be mistaken for grey.

Glasses or contact lenses?:  She’s blind.

Distinguishing facial features?:  Sharp cheekbones and jaw

Which facial feature is most prominent?: Her eyes

Which bodily feature is most prominent?:  Her straight posture

Other distinguishing features?:  Has minor scarring around her eyes, but it’s only noticeable up close.

Skin?:  Pale, almost ivory. LIght brush of freckles over cheeks and nose.

Hands?:  Slender, and soft. Keeps her nails short and clean.

Makeup?:  She’ll wear it but doesn’t care for it much since she can’t see it.

Scars?:  The brand on her shoulder blade, just like her sister’s. The scarring around her eyes looks like webbing. Cuts on her wrists (that she keeps covered).

Birthmarks?:  None.

Tattoos?:  No.

Physical Handicaps?: Fully blind. Chronic migraines.

Type of clothes?:  Loose and flowy so she doesn’t feel restricted. She’s partial to softer fabrics too.

What are their feet like?:  Narrow and soft. Always cold.

Race / Ethnicity?:  They’re based of Danish or Norwegian for the most part. I haven’t put too much thought into it, really.

Are they in good health?:  For the most part. When the migraines get to be too much, she’ll have to rest for at least a day.

Do they have any disabilities?:  Just blindness, I guess.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse?:  “No, I don’t see what you mean.”

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?:  Optimist.

Are they introverted or extroverted?:  Introvert.

Do they ever put on airs?:  Never.

What bad habits do they have?:  None actually.

What makes them laugh out loud?:  Her sister’s personality. Rhea never fails to get a laugh out of her.

How do they display affection?: Gifts, mostly. She’s a little shy to physical affection.

How do they want to be seen by others?:  Normal, and capable.

Strongest character trait?: Iron will. She will never back down.

Weakest character trait?:  Her unwillingness to let people help her personally. She doesn’t want to rely on people because she doesn’t want them to worry for her.

How competitive are they?:  Isn’t.

How do they react to praise?:  She’ll smile and say thank you, but is a little surprised.

Weakest character trait?:  She’s receptive, especially if it’s constructive and will help find a better solution.

What is their greatest fear?:  Not being able to properly care for or protect her son.

What are their biggest secrets?:  When her sister died, she’d tried to make the Deal with the Devil, too. But the price of her son’s sight was too much for her. She’d never told anyone.

What is their philosophy of life?:  “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

What haunts them?:  She wishes she’d done more in insisting her sister stay. Maybe she wouldn’t have died…

What will they stand up for?:  What she believes is right and the people.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?:  Both, really. She likes the outdoors because she can listen to everything and get fresh air. But indoors she can have peace and quiet, especially in her room.

What is their sinful little habit?:  Would live off chocolate covered strawberries if she could.

What sense do they most rely on?: Hearing.

How do they treat people better than them?:  As equals.

How do they treat people worse than them?:  As equals.

What do they consider an overrated virtue?: Submission.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?:  She’d like her sight back… But she’d never say that aloud, especially not in front of Rhea.

What is their obsession?:  Flowers of all kinds. She likes to touch and smell them. Anything that gives of a scent.

What are their pet peeves?:  Arrogance. Unwillingness to cooperate. Pen clicking would be one (if in Modern AU).

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small?:  Small.

What is their perception of a family?:  People she cares about.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger?:  Just Rhea, who is 2 years older.

Describe their best friend.: Launa, her head maid. She’s always been extremely supportive of Adara.

Idea best friend?:  Someone she can trust to not judge her for what she’s done and willing to do.

Do they have any pets?:  No.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child?:  As a baby, she was really quiet. She didn’t cry much or fuss. As a child, she was shy but curious. She’d follow Rhea into whatever adventure she found for them.

Did they grow up rich or poor?:  Rich, until they moved to Vesuvia.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?:  Nurtured.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?:  She tried to end her marriage with her husband a few months in because she had foreseen a terrible future in one of her premonitions -and wanted to save him. But it hadn’t been their’s she’d seen. He’d died shortly after and never got to take it back.

What are their ambitions?:  To take care of the people and rebuild her kingdom.

What smells remind them of their childhood?:  As she’s super sensitive to smell, she’s highly aware of scents similar to her parents. Scents of lillies and pine are a big one.

What was their childhood ambition?: Become an ambassador to represent Moonsea on the outside.

What is their best childhood memory?:  Shortly after becoming blind and learning how to focus her other senses, Rhea had taken it upon herself to cover the room in every flower she could manage to grow inside. We’re talking about covered in roses, lilacs, snapdragons, you name it. Rhea brought each one to Adara and let her touch and smell them.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?:  She’d imagined someone walking with her everywhere, who she called the Silver Lady. She had the antlers of a stag and eyes like a doe.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight?:  No.

How do they behave in a relationship?:  Respectfully and wholly committed.

What sort of sex do they have?:  Relatively vanilla with a little spice. Too much can cause sensory overload.

Has your character ever been in love?: Just once before, to her late husband.

Have they ever had their heart broken?: No.

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat?: Ultimate diplomat. Will use words first and stay calm. If required, she’s not against using magic to protect others and herself.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or tongue?:  Tongue.

What is your character’s kryptonite?: Her son and sister.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?:  Assuming every soul is safe, she won’t bother even if she could get something.

How do they perceive strangers?: What strangers?

What are their phobias?:  Silence.

What is their choice of weapon?: Words, or water magic.

What living person do they most despise?:  Lucio.

Have they ever been bullied or teased?:  Plenty of times. But Rhea always stepped in.

Where do they go when they’re angry?: For a walk outside, so she can count her steps and calm down.

Work, Education, and Hobbies

What is their current job?:  Vesuvia’s Ambassador of Moonsea, High Princess of Moonsea

What do they think about their current job?:  She enjoys it. She likes being able to help and protect people.

What are some of their past jobs?:  Used her abilities of premonition to get visions for a small price, when she needed to feed herself.

What are their hobbies?:  Collects different scents so she can always recall a memory with them.

Educational background?:  Received tons of formal training as a royal. What she lacked in magical talent, she made up for in herbalism and healing.

Intelligence level?: Extremely smart, almost intimidatingly so.

Do they have any specialist training?:  Extraordinary herbalist and medical knowledge.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good?: She’s not fond of sports.

What is their socioeconomic status?:  Upper class.

Favorites

What is their favorite animal?:  Spiders, like her familiar Vee.

Which animal do they dislike the most?:  Snakes. Just don’t let it touch her and she’s groovy.

What place would they most like to visit?:  Home.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve seen?:  The last thing she’d seen was her sister’s crying face. She’ll never forget that.

What is their favorite song?: Song of the Sea - Ashley Serena

Music, art, reading preferred?:  Music all the way. She’s also got a hauntingly beautiful voice.

What is their favorite color?:  All of them.

Favorite food?:  Salmon

Possessions

What is in their fridge?:  Fruit, pre-bottled water, orange juice, cider…

What is on their bedside table?:  Nothing, she’s knocked everything off too many times in the mornings.

What is in their pockets?: Nothing.

What is their most treasured possession?: A fragment of a necklace she’ll never be without, attached to a leather cord and bound to her wrist.

Spirituality

Do they believe in the afterlife?:  She does.

What are their religious views?:  Spiritual.

Are they superstitious?:  No.

What would they like to be reincarnated as?:  A deer.

How would they like to die?: Painlessly.

What is your character’s spirit guide?:  The Silver Lady.

What is their zodiac sign?:  Virgo.

Daily Life

What are their eating habits?:  Eats like a bird.

Do they have any allergies?:  No.

Describe their home.:  Minimalist and spacious. No carpeting allowed.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?: Minimalist.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning?:  Breakfast in the warm sun while Luana tells her the agenda for the day.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon?:  Listening to music.

What do they do on a Friday night?:  Stay in and let someone read to her.

What is the soft drink of choice?:  She’d be a Sprite kind of girl (in a Modern AU).

What is their alcoholic drink of choice?:  White wines.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? From this list:  The Caregiver.

Who is their hero?: Her sister.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween?:  A ghost.

Are they comfortable with technology?:  Not very, but she thinks it’s got practical uses.

If they could save one person who would it be?:  Her son first, then her sister.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be?:  Her sister, or Nadia.

What is their greatest extravagance?:  Buying perfumes and colognes to never use but keep just to smell when she gets lonely.

Do they believe in happy endings?:  She does.

What would they ask a fortune-teller?:  For a reading about the future of her family.

#Adara Orasa #arcana oc #character survey #i love her and she's precious

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company Part 2

Chapter Sixteen:

The One Where Klaus Goes Ballistic

Klaus sighed as he and Violet to a good look around the room. The couches had pillows embroidered with silver. The chairs were all painted with gold paint. And the tables were made from wood chopped away from some of the most expensive trees in the world. But the two orphaned half-siblings were not interested in all of the Squalor’s fancy stuff. They were only interested in the rescue of their sister and friends.

As Klaus hit the button on the Squalors’ automatic curtains, his and Violet’s heart fell into their chests. The phrase ‘Dwarfed in comparison’ is a phrase that means that one thing seems small when compared to another thing. And when Klaus had hit the button on the remote and the curtains had parted, both children felt everything about their lives become dwarfed in comparison to how trapped they felt, because as the curtains parted, their worst nightmare stood smirking at them as though he was already one step ahead of them.

“Does this seem like a nightmare? A bad dream?” Olaf asked as he glared at the two helpless children, who stood frozen in place. “Because that’s the effect I was going for.”

Violet and Klaus opened their mouths to say something. Both unable to speak because Olaf had the element of surprise. Which is usually an unfair advantage and is found when one person has sneaked up on another. Typically when this happens the surprised party is too stunned to defend themselves. The children were too stunned to scream or run. They didn’t even think about calling out for either one of their guardians to save them. They merely stood there and stared at the terrible man who had somehow found them rather quickly. They weren’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Olaf looked at them with a nasty smile, enjoying the unfair advantage of surprise as he could see that Violet had her usual glare plastered on her unamused face while Klaus’ breathing became hollow and short. The children could see that he was in another one of his nefarious disguises. Both children were not fooled by his pair of shiny black boots with high tops that almost reached his knees, his ridiculous monocle that furrowed his brow. The two siblings knew that Olaf was wearing the boots to cover up the tattoo that was permanently on his left ankle and they knew that his monocle was to make it difficult to see that he had only one long eyebrow over his shiny, evil eyes rather than two. And they knew that he was wearing a pinstripe suit to fit in with the rich residents of Dark Avenue instead of the greedy, treacherous, abusive kidnapper who belonged in a heavily guarded prison. Violet snuck a glance towards Klaus, who seemed different. He wasn’t shaking, he wasn’t retreating behind her. Klaus felt like he was going to be sick. Too many emotions were heating him to his core. He was fighting so many urges.

Olaf took a step closer to the children. Smirking at each of them deviously and slowly. Offering them each a different smirk that was laced with different intentions. “Well, I have nightmares, too, orphans. I wake up in the middle of the night screaming and the only thing that comforts me is knowing that the two of you will soon be screaming yourselves.” He smiled at Violet and Klaus as he took a few steps closer to them. Violet and Klaus slowly walked backward. “Just like three other wealthy orphans who just so happen to be in my clutches and trust me when I say that their screams are the highlight of my day.”

Before Olaf could even react Klaus had charged at him. His anger taking full control as he charged. Within what felt like a mere second, he reached the villain and with a strength that he didn’t even know he possessed, he grabbed the villain by his shoulders and proceeded to throw him against the large window that he had hidden next to. Olaf, being consumed by the element of surprise was too stunned to react. He hit his back against the window with a large THUD! And he grunted in agony from the sheer force that Klaus had used. He and Violet were both surprised that the window didn’t crack under the pressure that was applied. Before he could move away from the orphan boy, Klaus gripped the man’s throat. Olaf could see that behind the boy’s teary eyes was a lit fire that was fueled by pure unbridled hatred and a thirst for revenge.

Hot, angry tears slowly streamed down his face as he stared down the villain unable to speak. He opened his mouth but all he could do was growl. Olaf wasn’t scared, he was definitely shocked and slightly intimidated but he wasn’t scared. He had seen Klaus at his lowest point, he knew how to break the boy. He just never realized that Klaus could possess this level of anger.

Violet stood in the same spot, looking from where Klaus had been standing not two seconds ago to the scene that was unfolding before her. She rolled her eyes. “Or we can do it your way, I guess,” she muttered referring to how Klaus had agreed to go along with her plan to pretend like they didn’t recognize Olaf. Klaus held a tight grip on Olaf.

“ You son of a bitch!” Klaus hissed in Olaf’s face. Olaf had never seen the orphan boy this angry before, even if he was shocked, he reveled in the fact that he could do this to Klaus. “ Where the hell is my baby sister!”

Violet frowned when she heard Klaus refer to Sunny as his baby sister but she didn’t say anything. She hadn’t known her brother for very long but she had never imagined Klaus to be this violent especially what she had seen back at Prufrock.

Olaf smirked at the boy who held a firm grip on his throat. “Are you asking me if she’s alive? Or where she is? Because you know I’m not gonna tell you that.” the villain hissed back, all the while keeping a smirk upon his face.

Klaus leaned in closely to Olaf. “ Give me...back...my sister!”  he hissed again. Olaf could hear the desperation that hid in Klaus’ voice, right passed the anger. He noticed the boy’s grip briefly flinch.

Olaf intensified his glare into Klaus’ teary eyes. Klaus’ breathing was still rigid but not because he was having a panic attack because he was still consumed by anger. “Hmmm,” Olaf replied, contemplating his options. “Let me tell you what, why don’t I go get you a bag of flour. That worked so well for you back at Prufrock,” his face changed to one of fake surprise. “OH! Wait... It didn’t.” He hissed at the boy.

Klaus growled again as his free hand shot up and punched Olaf square in the face. Violet looked at her brother surprised. She glanced over at Olaf wondering what he would do to Klaus next. Olaf merely laughed.

“ What’s so funny!?” Klaus hissed.

“ You…” Olaf replied, feeling Klaus’ hand around his neck tremble a bit. His grip loosened allowing Olaf more room to breathe. Olaf grinned. “ Do you really think you scare me when I’m the one who broke you?”

Klaus’ face turned sour, he closed his eyes. He tried to keep his rage at the forefront of his mind. Violet watched as Klaus’ arms twitched slightly.

“Klaus?” she asked worriedly.

“Now,” Olaf said as he pushed Klaus’ hand away from his throat. “Who do you think should be punished for your little outburst?” he asked tauntingly. “Your cry baby boyfriend?...”

“Don’t touch him!” Klaus hissed through gritted teeth.

“Oooh, or the pretty little poet…”

“If you’ve laid a finger on Isadora…!”

“Oh, I know, ” Olaf grinned from ear to ear as Klaus slightly shook. “ Your baby sister. She does need to learn a lesson or two...maybe then she’ll behave,”

Violet stepped forward watching as Klaus went from slightly trembling to punching Olaf in the gut. Violet had never seen someone’s eyes go so dark before, not even Olaf’s. Olaf hunched over grunting.

“ Let me make this abundantly clear,” Klaus hissed at the villain through gritted teeth. “ If you lay a finger on Sunny..if you even look at Isadora...if you say a word to Duncan. I’ll have you wishing that we never crossed paths.”

Violet felt chills down her spine as Klaus threatened Olaf. She was unsure where this cold demeanor came from. But she was impressed.

Olaf glared at the orphan boy as he stood back up. “Ooooh, someone’s all tough now that’s he’s got a protector,” Olaf mocked looking pointedly at Violet, who flipped him off. He chuckled a bit. “It’s like you and Sunny reversed roles,”

Klaus’ eyes widened as Violet glared at the villain.

“What are you talking about?” Violet asked.

“ What have you done to Sunny?” Klaus asked, his anger subsiding being replaced by fear.

“You see I’ve learned something in Sunny’s short time of being my captive,” Olaf replied tauntingly, circling the young boy like a shark. “That baby sister of yours isn’t so tough after all. I’ll admit she definitely has a lot of bite rather than bark but... you can always train a puppy to be obedient. ”

Klaus stood shell shocked as the hatred and anger leaked from him. He felt his adrenaline slow down as Olaf pushed him against a wall. Violet grabbed the man pulling him away from Klaus. “Don’t fucking touch him,” she warned as she stood between Olaf and Klaus.

“Good point. I’ve already broken that brat,” Olaf says pointing a scrawny finger at Klaus. “Maybe I’ll do what I did to Klaus to that little annoying boy twin...and maybe I’ll be worse. I mean after all, I only need one twin for those pretty sapphires and I do prefer the girl,”

Violet felt sick to her stomach. “They’re triplets and if you’ve fucking touched Isadora!”

“...give them back,” Klaus whimpered from behind her. Violet turned around and saw the Klaus that she recognized. He was slumped and shaking. He no longer looked directly at Olaf and he was happily standing behind Violet, using his sister as a human shield. Whatever side of Klaus that had been present when he first saw Olaf in his newest disguise was gone now. Olaf deteriorated his anger, much to Violet’s disappointment. It felt well-deserved for Klaus to get a few jabs at Olaf. “...take me...just give them back.”

“ You are certainly not worth three prisoners, let alone one,” Olaf informed Klaus. He turned his gaze solely on Violet. “...but...little miss Snicket, here, is worth at least two prisoners.”

Klaus and Violet could feel their stomach’s churn. “ Leave Violet out of this!” Klaus cried. “ Give her back! You can have me!”  He pleaded to the disguised lunatic.

“Now, what good will you do for me? ” Olaf asked Klaus laughing. He glanced towards Violet again. “Now…” he pushed Klaus out of his way so he can get closer to Violet. Violet flinched when Olaf grabbed her arm. “...if the pretty orphan wants to take the little baby’s place...I could offer you a trade.” He says to Klaus.

Violet frowned. Thinking that Klaus’ response would be in favor of getting Sunny back, at no cost. She wouldn’t blame him though. Sunny was his real sister, after all.

But to her surprise, Klaus growled angrily at the villain. “You will not touch Violet!”

Olaf shrugged, squeezing Violet’s arm. “Let me go,” she hissed.

“Fine,” Olaf sighed as he released Violet’s arm. “I will have to touch my...new toys, then. I always had a habit...for breaking them. You would know that from experience, right, Klaus? Well, good things there’s two of them.”

Klaus could feel his inner core start to shake as Olaf reminded him of that dreadful night. He tried closing his eyes but it made the experience all too real as if he had been transported back to that night. He could smell the scent of his own blood, he could feel Olaf ripping him apart. He began to cry. “ Don’t...they….they didn’t do anything to you.”

Violet had had enough. She got into Olaf’s face, grimacing at the smell of his breath. “ Don’t you dare touch the Quagmires!” She warned. “ Or Sunny!”

Olaf ignored her, too focused on causing Klaus a meltdown. “Now, the only question is which twin would be more fun to break? Personally, I’d say the girl...there’s just...so many ways to break a girl orphan,” he explained staring at Violet. “Especially when that girl orphan needs to learn how to behave .”

Klaus began to shake harder, grabbing onto Violet for support.

“But then again,” Olaf continued glancing to make sure no one was approaching. “The boy twin might be just as fun as you are, Klaus?”

“ If you…” Klaus cried.

“If you touch any of them...we will…” Violet began, she couldn’t concentrate properly. The way Olaf was talking had her fearing for her and Isadora’s safety.

“What?” Olaf interrupted. He looked to Klaus. “Cry?... Glare?” he looked back at Violet. “Hit me with your ridiculously large backpack?”  

Violet stood in between her brother and the notorious villain. “Where...are they?” she asked again. Gritting her teeth in anger

Olaf smirked and walked around the children. “What? You mean you don’t know? I thought everybody could smell wealthy orphans when they were in arm’s reach.” As he said this he grabbed both Violet and Klaus, causing Klaus to jump and Violet to smack both of his hands.

“If you know what’s good for you,” Violet warned. “You won’t touch us again,”

Olaf shrugged. “Not to worry, though. Soon all of you orphans will be in my clutches. Two Baudelaires...Two Quagmires...and you, Miss Snicket will all be in my clutches. This pesky citywide manhunt may have foreshadowed me from taking the Quaggies and Sunny far away, but not for long.”

“YOu mean ‘forestalled’,” Klaus corrected from behind Violet. Olaf rolled his eyes in response.

“But we’re gonna stop you,” Violet said. “Mr. and Mrs. Squa-” she began to yell.

Olaf lifted the black cane that he had been using as a walking stick. He placed it on Violet’s shoulder causing her to stop yelling for their guardians. “You see...I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Olaf warned, another dark grin plastered on his face.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Klaus asked. “The Squalors will call the authorities and…”

“And you’ll get your happily ever after that you’ve been fighting for? I see you still believe in fairytales,” Olaf said mockingly. “I mean you can call for the Squalors and they can call for authorities…” he began.

“That’s what I was trying to do,” Violet said annoyed, interrupting the villain since he had interrupted her. “Mr. and Mrs. Squa-” she tried again.

But Olaf raised a hand, indicating for her to wait. “But...think of the poor Quagmire twins and their sparkly, sparkly sapphires,”

Violet and Klaus’ heart sank in their chest. “ They’re not twins, ” Violet hissed.

“And think about poor, poor little Sunny and her enormous fortune,” Olaf hissed staring more at Klaus than Violet.

Klaus’ face dropped. “ Leave our sister alone,” Violet warned.

“If I’m somehow recognized and taken to jail, the little Quaggies and Sunny will never be found in their, super-duper secret hiding place and they will starve to death like castaways on a deserted island,” Olaf explained smirking at both children.

“Fuck you. We’ll find them,” Violet countered.

Olaf shrugged. “Fine. Do what you please. But I am the only person alive who knows where they are,”

“B-but you said they’re in arm’s reach,” Klaus countered. “They can’t be far,”

“Is that a risk that you two really wanna make?”

Violet and Klaus looked at one another. Both having entirely different answers to this question. Violet knew she was resourceful enough to figure out where they are. They couldn’t be far if Olaf is still pursuing her and Klaus. But Klaus knew that Olaf was cunning and clever. He remembered when Olaf shoved Sunny in the birdcage back when the two Baudelaire siblings had lived with him to make Klaus more complacent to his new living situation. Olaf had asked him a similar question back then and the answer was the same.

“Yes,” Violet replied.

“No,” Klaus replied at the same time as Violet.

Both half-siblings gave each other an incredulously look. As Olaf smiled. “Seems you both aren’t on the same page,” he said placing a hand on Klaus’ shoulder, causing the boy to flinch. “I mean...it makes sense as to why Miss Snicket is willing to gamble little Sunny’s life... she has nothing to lose,”

“Fuck you!” Violet yelled. “Sunny is my sister, too! Tell him, Klaus.”

Olaf ignored her, focusing more on Klaus. Klaus glared at him.

“Sunny is our sister,” he told the villain but both Violet and Olaf could tell that there was no compassion in his voice. He was too busy trying to figure out why Violet would be so stubborn to risk the lives of Sunny and the Quagmires.

Olaf rolled his eyes, releasing his grip on Klaus’ shoulder. “If you know what’s good for your baby sister and those twins,” he told Klaus, “You’d control her…” he pointed to Violet. Olaf could see the Squalors were approaching the room. He frowned.

He turned his back towards the approaching Squalors and glared at both children. “So what are you NOT going to tell the Squalors?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

Violet didn’t answer, as she simply glared at the villain. She hated that he had the upper hand. Klaus sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Your true identity,” he answered in a whimper.

“Good boy,” Olaf replied in a patronizing tone, smiling.

Violet looked from her younger brother to the villain. She refused to allow this fucker to win. She was going to think of some way to rescue Sunny and the Quagmires undetected. She took out her white ribbon from her pocket, her fingers gracing the black ribbon she had given to Isadora that had found its way back into her possession. She began tying up her hair. Klaus noticed what she was doing and snuck Violet a worried smile.

______________________________________________

Jacquelyn Scieszka glared at the special edition of The Daily Punctilio that Mr. Poe had left on her desk. Her eyes were twitching as she read each and every word, using a red marker to underline everything that was inaccurate about the paper. Like Olaf’s name and the names of the kidnapped. But her eyes fixate on ‘Susan Baudelaire’. Oh no.

She walked to her desk that was located outside of Mr. Poe’s office and immediately picked up the phone. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

She waited impatiently until finally before the last ring, the person she was calling decided to pick up the phone. Good thing, too, Jacquelyn wasn’t in the mood for these stupid fucking games.

“H-hello,” the man on the other end replied.

“ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Snicket!” she hissed. She looked around the bank to see if anyone had noticed her tone but everyone went about their business.

“Hello, Jackie,”

“Don’t ‘Hello, Jackie’, me, Jacques,” she replied.

“So what has you calling so early in the morning?” he asked, already knowing the answer to his ridiculous question.

“Have you read today’s edition of The Daily Punctilio? ”

“Actually, I don’t read that hogwash,” he replied.

“Well, I don’t disagree with you on that one,” Jacquelyn admitted.

Jacques could tell even if she was agreeing with him, Jacquelyn was still not happy.

“Well let me read a passage for you,” she said after a moment of silence.

As Jacquelyn read the newspaper word for word, Jacques' face turned dark and sour.

“He…”

“Yeah, you left them and now he’s got three of them,”

“Where’s my niece?” Jacques asked desperately.

“Give me a little bit on that one. Poe will surely tell me,” Jacquelyn responded. “But your niece isn’t the one in complete and utter danger,”

“He’s going to go after her still, right?”

“Most likely,” Jacquelyn replied. “He may have a Baudelaire and two Quagmires but if he wants Lemony’s inheritance…”

“Then he’ll need her,” Jacques replied. “And when he strikes, I’ll be there,”

Jacquelyn didn’t like where this was going. “Jacques...maybe this is too dangerous for you, specifically. Look what happened to Lemony…”

“What happened to Lemony?”

Jacquelyn sighed. “Jacques...you can’t keep living in denial. Olaf murdered your brother and he will surely do the same to you if he finds out that you are trying to rescue these kids.”

“Did you find a body?”

“Well, no. The building collapsed and the fire burned nearly everything in its path...but…”

“Then he could still be alive and hiding,”

“Why would he hide though! His daughter is in danger. You’re going to sit here and tell me that your brother would abandon his own daughter when he risked his life for two children that weren’t even his!”  

“Maybe he isn’t abandoning her!” Jacques replied back defensively. “Maybe he’s injured and he can’t help her. I have to help her!”

“Jacques…”

“No, this is my fault. I left them and now he has three of them. Find out where Poe sent my niece and I will look for Sunny Baudelaire and the Quagmires,”

“I still think that someone else should handle this case,”

“No,” Jacques replied. “My brother. My niece. My fault. I can do this,”

“Let me send you help at least,”

“Larry is still recovering from his time in the freezer,”

“I meant your sister,” Jacquelyn replied. “I could try reaching her again. She must have found that stupid sugar bowl by now,”

“No,” Jacques replied. “If you think it’s too dangerous for me, it’s too dangerous for her. Leave Kit out of this,”

“Violet is her niece, too. Lemony is her brother, too,” Jacquelyn pointed out.

“I don’t care,”

“You sound like Lemony,”

“Thank you,”

“Not a compliment but okay,”

“Look, I will find these kids. I promise. I will rescue them and I will take all five to headquarters and they’ll be safe in VFD,”

Jacquelyn paused. How could he still believe that? She thought to herself. She was starting to not believe that. “Find them...but don’t take them to headquarters right away. Bring them to me,”

“Why?”

“Just...trust me,”

“Okay. You’ve never let me down before,”

“Wish I could say the same about you, Snicket,” she joked.

“I am going to fix this. I know I know I shouldn’t have left them at the school. Just find out where Poe sent my niece and get back to me,”

Before Jacquelyn could reply, Jacques hung up. Jacquelyn sighed as she looked around the bank, everyone was still busy with the hustle and bustle of a mid-afternoon day in the banking district. She opened the drawer of her desk that held her spyglass. She frowned when she looked at it. She pressed her fingertips to it, feeling how cold it was. She gave a low chuckle as she thought about how it fits. VFD was a cold and calculated...what did Violet call it?....cult. She shut her drawer as a woman in a black skirt, yellow top approached her desk. The woman was carrying a rather large book. Her hair was in a messy bun and her eyes seemed tired behind her glasses. Jacquelyn smiled at the woman.

“Hello, is this the Vice President of Orphan’s Affairs office?” the woman asked.

Jacquelyn smiled. The woman’s voice was like music to her ears. “Y-yeah,” she replied. “I’m Jacquelyn Scieszka,” she replied holding out her hand.

“I’m Olivia Caliban,” Olivia replied shaking Jacquelyn’s hand. Both women pulled their hands away rather quickly. Both feeling the sparks that ignited when their hands touched.

“Right this way, Olivia Caliban,” Jacquelyn replied standing up from her desk

#misery loves company #violet snicket au #violet snicket #violet baudelaire #Klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #count olaf #gunther #ersatz elevator #esme squalor #duncan quagmire #isadora quagmire #jerome squalor #mr. poe #jacques snicket #fernald widdershins #jacquelyn scieszka #olivia caliban #larry your waiter #lemony snicket #daniel handler #beatrice baudelaire #beatrice baudelaire ii #bertrand baudelaire #asoue #asoue au #asoue fanfic #asoue fic #asoue fanbase #asoue fandom

[carrietrekkie]

Pike/Female OC

I think I´ll try a little experiment and posting my Pike/Female OC Story.

It´s been a while since my last release of a story and it will be my very first in English. I finished only a OC Ask Meme about her in English, so, if someone liked it or want´s to know more about that story, let me know and i will translate the images and stories. 

Please let me also know, if there are linguistic mistakes.

So, here it is!

What is your character´s full name?:    Cathrin Elizabeth Zimmer (Ranks from Lieutenant to Commander)

 When were they born?: 31.10.1986, Germany, Another Dimension.

 What are their parent´s names?: Robert Zimmer, Annabell Zimmer

 Do they have any brothers or sisters?: An older brother, Markus Zimmer

 What kind of eyes do they have: Green eyes with golden sparkles. She has a warm gaze, not afraid of eye contact, even which strangers, this comes from her education and the time she spends with people in her past job.

 What kind of hair do they have?: Dark nut brown hair. It falls in soft waves over her armpit but at duty she used to wear it up to a ponytail or a updos with braids.

 What is their complexion like? Fair skin, she always used to be very pale, she tans really slowly but that takes time

 What body type are they? 5.5, she is average, bit curvy and loves it. By the time she arrives in the 23 century and the events followed by her apparition, she starts to train and learn a lot of  Martial Arts to protect her crewmembers and herself if there is need to, so she gets a little more athletic.

 What is listening to their voice like? Cathrin has an unexpected deep voice that skip a bit, when she´s getting emotional. She trained that because she made the experience that a deep, warm voice calms patients and people much more than a highly tone. Some of her phrases are old fashioned to the people around her, that’s something Chris loves about her and he started to use them to, long before they get together.

She loves to sing, but thinks she´s not very talented, so she keep it private but sometimes, when she is concentrated, it happens in public. Dr. Culber found it enchanting after it happens in his presence but never mentioned it to her, until she leaves Discovery.  

 What do they hate most about themselves? Cathrin hate her uncertainty about the 23 century. Almost everything is new to her, despite her memories of the events in the “Star Trek Universe”, it’s a completely different thing to be thrown into this life without advance warning. She had to ask about everything, even the things that totally normal for everyone around her and after all this time she spent in her new life, there is always something new and unexpected that made her feel like a complete idiot. (Just imagine pull out of your time, space and dimension and been thrown over 200 years into the future.)

 Do they have a favorite quote?

To see your world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower. To hold infinity in the palm of your hand, An eternity in an hour.

Her father used to read her and her brother poems when there where children, this one is the last he told them, on the day he passed away.

_Be bold, be brave, be courageous. _

The words she read to her nephew at his christening. Much later, she said this to Pike and he completed her sentence without hesitation, they started to say goodbye with that, before they go on separate or dangerous missions. He once said this words carried them to the hardest and darkest times of their life, as well as thru the best and brightest.  

 What sort of music do they enjoy? Cathrin is very into music. She holds the musical data she brought with her like a treasure. She enjoyed a peculiar mixture of music: Pop, Rock, Metal, Country, World Music and Soundtracks from the 1950 till 2019. She also enjoys some stuff from the 23th century, but there she is highly influenced by Chris Favorites.

Once she made a playlist for Chris ( as a thanks for keeping her from drowning, after the first time she was forced to kill, to save Ash Tylers Life), she called it cheesy and terribly old fashioned, he says it´s one of the best gifts he ever received. And with time goes by every song from this list, fits to something that’s happened in their lives.

Have/would they ever cheat(ed) on a partner?: No, she would never do that. When she loves, she does with her full heart, soul and mind. Cathrin is a very romantic person but is uncertain how to show it in the right way or at all.

Have they been cheated on by a partner?: Yes. Back in her old life, her fiancé cheated on her a few weeks before their weeding. And although a year after that, she could forgive him, there both were very young and maybe to naive about their relationship, but she never forget that feeling and swear she would never do such horrible thing to someone she love.  

Have they ever lost someone close to them? Cathrin lost everyone she knew and loves when the signal brought her into the 23 century. It took her a while to get to live on with that, but she heeded Chris advice to let them go, since they lived there lives long ago and hers is just to start at a new point.

She is afraid to loss her new friends and crewmembers and, even though she´s used to dead by her job, she still mourn every patient that passed away on her duty.

Her father died, after a long illness, when she and her brother where teenagers.

Are they judgmental of others? No. She treated everyone the same way, unless she get´s a reason for being so rude. She was not a very popular companion when she was at school, sometimes she get bullied, so she decided, she would never be a person like that. 

Have they ever been drunk? Yes. The worst drunkenness was at a party after her father´s funeral. Cathrin had a completely blackout on that evening. After that night she nearly tolerated nothing alcoholic and only drinks a glass on very special occasions. The champagne Pike serves her after her admission to Starfleet nearly knocks her out and he still makes his jokes about that. (There was a party after that but she can´t remember anything about that.)

What are they like when they stay up all night? A little bit like a humming-bird, reinforced by the amount of coffee she consumed to get through the night at all. She speaks to much and to fast and gets very jumpy. Usually Cathrin is not a night person, she needs her sleep and she needs to be rested before she takes a step into an OP to lay a life of someone in her hands. But if it´s necessary, and thanks to the training and conditions, she could pull herself together to get through tough times, but she don´t like it, she know it is unhealthy to let it happened to often.

 What evokes strong memories for them? A lot of thinks throws her back to things she´s been through, but that are memories she can deal with, like the death of her father, her first heartbreak or the good times, she had with her childhood friends.

Much more harder to process are the flashbacks and buried memories that comes with her knowledge of thinks that probably could happen in the future. For them there are no fixed triggers, so it overcomes her from time to time with unexpected effects and results. Cathrin hates it but can do nothing against it, sometimes it´s like a whisper but otherwise it could knock her completely out and most of this times she ended in sick bay and with a lot of questions she never could answer entirely.

The only memory she could share and prevent form happening, was Pikes fate but she always fear, that with hold up these events, there would be another tragic end for him (she knew, there is some, but she has no access to it) and when she see it clearly, it would be to late.

Anyway she wrote down every fragment she remembers in a notebook and made a note in it, that after her and Chris dead it should go to the Captain and First Officer of the Enterprise.  

 What do they do on rainy days?: Cathrin used to read on rainy days, doing laundry, watching movies or series.

After rainy days could only happen on personal leave times, she takes these days to do nothing or just things she really likes. Take a long bath, stay in bed till midday, preferred by breakfast also in bed or just listen to music. On top of this list stands spending time with Chris, catch up the things they have to less time on board of Enterprise, even if it´s just sitting side by side by the fireplace, reading a book or dancing to their favorite songs.  

**What religion are they? **Cathrin grew up in a little catholic embossed village in Germany. She never get to much into religion but always had faith and believe that there are more tings between earth and sky than science will show her.

She stayed with it, after her arrival in the future and pulled from it, when the days and nights are getting dark and sometimes hopeless. Her spiritual side goes along with her scientific way to live, she never saw a reason why they had to exclude each other.

What do they wear to bed?: Cathrin wears a pyjama shorts with a shirt, sometimes a nightgown, accounting on her daily condition. When she is away from Enterprise for Starfleet Academy, she usually wears some of Chris t-shirts and a long pyjama pants (She had some strange encounters at night in the dorm, so she decided to be as dressed as possible). On vacation she sometimes sleeps in underwear or less.

Do they have any tattoos or piercings?: No tattoos, but she get her ears pierced when she was a little girl.

Cathrin don´t like needles at all, every time she has to take a blood sample from a patient or give an injection in the past, she suffered with him. One reason she thinks Hyposprays are a gift of heaven.

What type of clothing are they most comfortable in?: Cathrin loves the clothes she had with her, when she was brought to Discovery (Jeans, a shirt, a black dress and coat, two pairs of high heels), even the Jeans get ripped, she never thrown it away.

She likes her blue Enterprise uniform more than the dark blue from Discovery. Of duty she likes to wear dresses and skirts, shoes with a heel( gives her the illusion to get nearly the high of Chris) and sometimes the “county girl style” Chris loves so much on her.

 What is their favorite food?: Cathrin is addicted to desserts and sweet thinks. Baking was one of her hobbies, but you can´t bake cookies on a space ship.

On personal leave she sometimes cooks. Her all time favorite are Pancakes, done by the recipe of her mother, that’s something she really missed.

Do they have any enemies?: No personal enemies. But if you are in Starfleet, it comes with the duty and some decisions you forced to make. She´s sure there are a few people in the galaxy, who prefer her dead then still alive, but they first have to pass Chris and the crew of the Enterprise.

What does their writing look like?: Cathrin has a very elegant writing but when she´s in hurry, so most of the time, it goes undecipherable. This also caused back to her time as a medical assistant and later as a Paramedic.

What disgusts them? Liars, disloyalty, dishonorable intentions. She has a high loyal compass and goes not well with people who infringe it. Cathrin hates senseless violence and every action that caused damage to the ones she love and who stands under her protection.  

#captain pike x reader #christopher pike x reader #pike x reader #star trek discovery #star trek discovery oc #captain pike imagines #captain chris pike

[cyberbullyinc]

That night at the Brooklyn party, I was playing the girl who was in style, the girl a man like Nick wants: the Cool Girl. Men always say that as the defining compliment, don’t they? She’s a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl. Men actually think this girl exists. Maybe they’re fooled because so many women are willing to pretend to be this girl. For a long time Cool Girl offended me. I used to see men – friends, coworkers, strangers – giddy over these awful pretender women, and I’d want to sit these men down and calmly say: You are not dating a woman, you are dating a woman who has watched too many movies written by socially awkward men who’d like to believe that this kind of woman exists and might kiss them. I’d want to grab the poor guy by his lapels or messenger bag and say: The bitch doesn’t really love chili dogs that much – no one loves chili dogs that much! And the Cool Girls are even more pathetic: They’re not even pretending to be the woman they want to be, they’re pretending to be the woman a man wants them to be. Oh, and if you’re not a Cool Girl, I beg you not to believe that your man doesn’t want the Cool Girl. It may be a slightly different version – maybe he’s a vegetarian, so Cool Girl loves seitan and is great with dogs; or maybe he’s a hipster artist, so Cool Girl is a tattooed, bespectacled nerd who loves comics. There are variations to the window dressing, but believe me, he wants Cool Girl, who is basically the girl who likes every fucking thing he likes and doesn’t ever complain. (How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: ‘I like strong women.’ If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because ‘I like strong women’ is code for ‘I hate strong women.’) I waited patiently – years – for the pendulum to swing the other way, for men to start reading Jane Austen, learn how to knit, pretend to love cosmos, organize scrapbook parties, and make out with each other while we leer. And then we’d say, Yeah, he’s a Cool Guy. But it never happened. Instead, women across the nation colluded in our degradation! Pretty soon Cool Girl became the standard girl. Men believed she existed – she wasn’t just a dreamgirl one in a million. Every girl was supposed to this girl, and if you weren’t, then there was something wrong with you. But it’s tempting to be Cool Girl. For someone like me, who likes to win, it’s tempting to want to be the girl every guy wants. When I met Nick, I knew immediately that was what he wanted, and for him, I guess I was willing to try. I will accept my portion of blame. The thing is, I was crazy about him at first. I found him perversely exotic, a good ole Missouri boy. He was so damn nice to be around. He teased things out in me that I didn’t know existed: a lightness, a humor, an ease. It was as if he hollowed me out and filled me with feathers. He helped me be Cool Girl – I couldn’t have been Cool Girl with anyone else. I wouldn’t have wanted to. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it: I ate a MoonPie, I walked barefoot, I stopped worrying. I watched dumb movies and ate chemically laced foods. I didn’t think past the first step of anything, that was the key. I drank a Coke and didn’t worry about how to recycle the can or about the acid puddling in my belly, acid so powerful it could strip clean a penny. We went to a dumb movie and I didn’t worry about the offensive sexism or the lack of minorities in meaningful roles. I didn’t even worry whether the movie made sense. I didn’t worry about anything that came next. Nothing had consequence, I was living in the moment, and I could feel myself getting shallower and dumber. But also happy. Until Nick, I’d never really felt like a person, because I was always a product. Amazing Amy has to be brilliant, creative, kind, thoughtful, witty, and happy. We just want you to be happy. Rand and Marybeth said that all the time, but they never explained how. So many lessons and opportunities and advantages, and they never taught me how to be happy. I remember always being baffled by other children. I would be at a birthday party and watch the other kids giggling and making faces, and I would try to do that, too, but I wouldn’t understand why. I would sit there with the tight elastic thread of the birthday hat parting the pudge of my underchin, with the grainy frosting of the cake bluing my teeth, and I would try to figure out why it was fun. With Nick, I understood finally. Because he was so much fun. It was like dating a sea otter. He was the first naturally happy person I met who was my equal. He was brilliant and gorgeous and funny and charming and charmed. People liked him. Women loved him. I thought we would be the most perfect union: the happiest couple around. Not that love is a competition. But I don’t understand the point of being together if you’re not the happiest. I was probably happier for those few years – pretending to be someone else – than I ever have been before or after. I can’t decide what that means. But then it had to stop, because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me, Nick! I thought you knew. I thought it was a bit of a game. I thought we had a wink-wink, don’t ask, don’t tell thing going. I tried so hard to be easy. But it was unsustainable. It turned out he couldn’t sustain his side either: the witty banter, the clever games, the romance, and the wooing. It all started collapsing on itself. I hated Nick for being surprised when I became me. I hated him for not knowing it had to end, for truly believing he had married this creature, this figment of the imagination of a million masturbatory men, semen-fingered and self-satisfied. He truly seemed astonished when I asked him to listen to me. He couldn’t believe I didn’t love wax-stripping my pussy raw and blowing him on request. That I did mind when he didn’t show up for drinks with my friends. That ludicrous diary entry? I don’t need pathetic dancing-monkey scenarios to repeat to my friends, I am content with letting him be himself. That was pure, dumb Cool Girl bullshit. What a cunt. Again, I don’t get it: If you let a man cancel plans or decline to do things for you, you lose. You don’t get what you want. It’s pretty clear. Sure, he may be happy, he may say you’re the coolest girl ever, but he’s saying it because he got his way. He’s calling you a Cool Girl to fool you! That’s what men do: They try to make it sound like you are the cool girl so you will bow to their wishes. Like a car salesman saying, How much do you want to pay for this beauty? when you didn’t agree to buy it yet. That awful phrase men use: ‘I mean, I know you wouldn’t mind if I …’ Yes, I do mind. Just say it. Don’t lose, you dumb little twat. So it had to stop. Committing to Nick, feeling safe with Nick, being happy with Nick, made me realize that there was a Real Amy in there, and she was so much better, more interesting and complicated and challenging, than Cool Amy. Nick wanted Cool Amy anyway. Can you imagine, finally showing your true self to your spouse, your soul mate, and having him not like you? So that’s how the hating first began. I’ve thought about this a lot, and that’s where it started, I think.

Amy Elliot Dunne (Gone Girl 2011)

#amy elliott dunne #gone girl #gillian flynn #book #mu #cool girl monologue

[metasandmagic]

Black Birds and Atoms

Summary: Soulmate marks were always supposed to represent something special about your soulmate. The small black bird on the inside of Ray’s wrist could have meant any number of things. It would have been easier if it was a name or a phrase. Laurel figured from the atom on her wrist whoever her soulmate was could be considered smart. But when they first meet each other neither one thinks of the possibility it might just mean each other. Not until a family dinner and the conversation turns to the marks.

Characters: Laurel Lance, Ray Palmer

Pairing: Laurel Lance/Ray Palmer

AO3

@metasandarrows

It was nearly impossible to get everyone together at once. They were from different cities and different dimensions or times in some cases, but for at least one night they had managed to do it. A few introductions but it felt like family and as Laurel glanced at the table as she was grabbing dessert. Family, friend and lovers, the Danvers sisters reminded her of everything she wanted for Sara and her. Thea and Oliver teasing each other. Joe and Cecil, with their kids. They had even managed to convince Jesse and Jay to leave their worlds for this dimension. William entertaining JJ and she couldn’t help but smile at the little touches between the couples.

How many pairs of soulmates were in this room? To many and she subconsciously rubbed at the tattoo on her wrist. She knew that Tommy nor Oliver weren’t hers but she still hadn’t allowed herself to think of who it might be in a long time. Soulmates never meant that you were going to meet. Picking up the desserts she carried it to the table. “I didn’t bake either of these I promise.” She hear the sigh of relief from her father and a couple of others.

“Oh thank god.” Oliver’s comments got a few confused looks and Felicity went to shove at his shoulder. Instead he just grabbed her arm and kissed the mark that showed the whole world they belonged together, even if only the people in this room understood the green arrow and what it meant. “Such a little mark that means so much.”

Felicity kissed Oliver on her lips. “I never would have imagined when I first met you that it would be you.” A few of the others made sounds of agreement and held their loved ones closer. 

“I knew Sara was mine the moment she took on the name Ta-er al-sahfer.” Ray blushed and scratched his head, looking away from the couple. They were sadly proof that soulmates didn’t mean forever but they sometimes came back to each other.

He took a drink and cleared his throat. “I ummm. thought you might have been mine when we first met.” He held out his wrist and the small black bird stood out. Sara leaned across a few people and grabbed his wrist. 

“But you didn’t think my sister, the Black Canary could be.” He glance over at Laurel. He hadn’t known her identity for sure until they were facing each other in an interrogation room and had never given it a second thought. The room was glancing at him and the ones who knew the mark on Laurel’s wrist were glancing nervously between the two. 

There were plenty of interesting stories about how two people found out they were soulmates but no one in this room could remember a story going quite like this. A room full or family, friends, and ex-lovers and nobody had ever put the pieces together until this moment. Sara walked over to her sister who hadn’t yet said anything and seemed to be covering her own mark looking at Ray in shock.

“Especially when this is the mark on her wrist?” She grabbed Laurel’s arm and removed her hand, the small atom seeming to burn into her skin.

Laurel wasn’t sure who was more shocked, Ray or her. They had never been close but they had known each other for a while. She had found him attractive and smart. Maybe if she had gotten to know him better before everything went to hell for him she would have fallen for him. “Woah.” Ray took the words right out of her mouth.

How did this happen? With both marks it was obvious they were connecting each other. But she didn’t like the idea that the universe knew she was going to be Black Canary before she did. Even if she had told her father that her path had always been headed toward the mask. “Can we maybe talk about this after we eat?”

Laurel had barely touched her food but her mind was going a mile a minute. The atmosphere had changed and while people were talking again she could feel the looks that were being thrown her way. Ray, her soulmate was Ray. Shouldn’t she be feeling something except for surprise that someone had just put the pieces together now. Of course she knew that soulmates didn’t mean easy or perfect or forever. It just meant finding the one person you fit with. 

They were both smart, compassionate people who cared about others and wanted to make this world a better place. It was a good fit, she knew logically they worked well together and she couldn’t say she had never checked him out, but he was Felicity’s ex and their circle of inner-dating had been complicated enough.

She picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen before heading out to the hallway. She could feel a few eyes on here but nobody tried to stop here. It was only a few minutes later that the door opened and Ray walked out. “I hope I’m not that terrible of a soulmate.”

Laurel closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath before turning to face him. “No it’s not that at all. I just haven’t had the best luck with relationships. You’re a good man Ray, I don’t want something to happen to you too.” That was part of it and she didn’t resist as he walked over to her and pulled her in his arms.

“I’ve heard the stories about Oliver and Tommy, but maybe it was just the universe trying to say they were the wrong person.” He knew as soon as he spoke those weren’t the right words to say. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean them dying was because of you, just them not working out.” That wasn’t working out any better.

She left the comfort of his arms and looked up at Ray. “I understand. Maybe, are you willing to take that risk? See where this goes and you do have the time travel heroics.” She finds her soulmate and he doesn’t even live in the same time period as her on a normal basis. He doesn’t live in any time period really.

That part hadn’t crossed his mind yet. He had been to busy trying to figure out how he missed that Laurel was his soulmate. She was smart and firey, selfless and heroic; everything he had ever wanted in one very gorgeous body. “I can stay for a while. The team can come get me if they need me, but I’d like to see how this plays out.” He took another step forward and placed his hand on her cheek.

“Good, I do to.” Laurel stood up on her toes and kissed him. It wasn’t anything to write home about but she did enjoy the simple kiss. “How about we go get dessert? Leave them to their gossip.”

And gossip was exactly what they were going to be doing. Everybody new everything within their world. “Yeah, there was this diner. They had the best pie, down by Palmer tech.”. She nodded her head and wrapped her arm through his.

“I know exactly the place you’re talking about. I used to stop by there whenever I was near by. This is already a great beginning.“

#laurel lance #ray plamer #laurel lance/ray palmer #fanfic #mine

[vakariansmonocle]

LONG POST WARNING

okay but i’ve had some shit in my head for days bout my girl revas so like here’s a fckn ramble about it honestly. 

so i tend to use a lot of imagery on her features to represent different aspects of her per verse. usually they show up in the form of tattoos, thought some are more hair style and some other just visual stuff. 

like in her dragon age verse i gave her vallaslin that literally coils and connects around her body, and turns her torso into almost this twisted trunk from all the lines. Granted, there’s shaky lines, imperfect lines, and lines of various colors. because they were all given to her by people from various clans and usually multiple people if not all the people from a clan. Specifically, I did this to show how important this is to her, how deeply she’s rooted and connected to her people. how much she loves her people. It’s, in retrospect, could almost represent and be a play on the Giving Tree if it’s specifically in her inquisitor verse ngl here. But I also really like the visual of, in her inquisitor verse, the damage that’s done to these tattoos. The way it’s abruptly torn apart along her arm, the various burns and cuts through her. the honest and literal severing of her & her people, no matter how deeply she connects to them still no matter how much she cares, her people are lost to her eventually. It’s also really telling in the fact that she would have removed all of it via solas. like. She knows these markings are not hers to bare any longer. that each line is just some reminder of lost lives, lost connection. Just a reminder that she is lost to her people and it’s so.. i unno it’s honestly a really heartbreaking moment if you understand what these markings mean to her. Not to the rest of the world, not to solas, not to her people. Just herself. Like, to have all that removed, or maybe even just the facial markings, and then mark herself with Falon’din? it’s ridiculous. Honestly, in my head having Falon’din’s vallaslin marked on her is probably something that draws back those lines along her. It’s sort of why i imagine she would keep the lines. Cause like, honestly... Creator of death, the guide of the lost, the seer’s, markings touching and coiling around those lines? Tell me that wouldn’t be fucking amazingly telling and foreshadowing lmao.         It’s probably one of my favorite visual characteristics of her design in that verse. Mainly because i keep some of her other characteristics with the rest of them!     ie: scars on her face & throat. 

anyways so like. in her modern verse she has these magic tattoos and ones symbolizing her friends, her family. These small & large details that are over looked from a distance, I think. Things maybe you notice but it’s not clear enough. Things maybe you trace when she’s laying on your lap. whatever. those sorts of tattoos and little details. Particularly i wanna talk about the large, and - usually - very noticeable, black work wing tattoo on her back. ( Because this is a detail that i wanna compare with another verse. ) But i wanna give y’all some Deets about this one.     This one particular tattoo grants her the ability to freely grow large raven-esque wings from her back without having to shift her form to fit them. The wings are pretty huge but, they fold perfectly to fit the tattoo to be pulled in. BUT one of the noticeable features when her wings are out, the black work is what folds out. The ink sort of fills into the negative space, creeping along to each little point before slowly eeking off of her back. Because the tattoo is actually geometric, the ink sort of makes this 3d model of the design before the wings just fill out with feathers. If i got really graphic it does that gross (but awesome) build up of skeletal bits, muscles & sinew, & then flesh and feathers. But yeah it just fills out like that and reverse that process to retract them.    See the reason for this visual is, of course, the wings of death. But, also, the association of freedom with flight. Ravens are honestly her motif though. Most people can associate raven’s with death, and mischief but in some aspects also knowledge. So it’s honestly very fitting. of course, for revas it was one of those impulse tattoos she wanted so she could have awesome wings. This doesn’t take away from the visual that she sort of has this freedom to her life, that she got to free herself from the horrors of her past, from the pain of the past. It doesn’t take away from the death aspect either, considering she connects it to her being sort of a bringer of death. Not that she is but it is a common thought process for her to have. She is, afterall, a death seer; due to her being connected to the undead and always having one foot in the ground, she can see those who will die and often senses it in passing. It is one of her strongest abilities. It is the weight and marking of a death carrier i guess, for her. 

  In contrast though is the au where she never died. In this au, she never got killed. She had to live with her memories of abuse and torture. She had to live with the weight of two murders on her hands. She had to live through the loss of her parents instead, through the burden of becoming a guardian to her siblings. She lives in this state of never truly free of this past. It’s essentially barbs in her spine, tugging and holding her down from it. This weight and pain of everything she’s been through crushing and keeping her from the freedom of moving forward. I mean, honestly she’s tried to die several times but due to this au being essentially reversed, she can’t die. Rapid healing and what not. So she can’t die. and that’s sort of a bummer. more of a bummer because she got trapped into a deal of ‘i’ll give you money in exchange for taking my place. added bonus: immortality!’ so she’s just fucked up from that.      So a lot of her tattoos are.. Little things. Symbols, words, phrases. Reminders. A lot of them are very punk inspired, but there are a few that are to keep her going and lift her spirit when it gets really heavy. But she doesn’t have her wings, but god she wants to be able to have them. She wants so badly to be able to feel the wind against her face, feel weightless, to feel Free. Reach up and grab the clouds and see everything from great heights. Wings to her would be only the freedom to get away from everything just for a little bit.    But. She’s also okay with not having them. Because this version of Revas has a different visual tick; a soft, warm golden glow when she feels hope & happiness to a very high level or whenever she uses healing magic. Now you may be thinking ‘that’s unfortunate, wouldn’t that draw attention?’ But uhh depression folks. But this like, visual sense from her is like. I think something really beautiful and warming to her character. Because it’s that sort of idea that she, very literally, embodies this hope in the darkness. It’s faint, soft & flickering. It’s almost like she’s surrounded by a dozen little flames, as if she herself is made of this dull flame. But she doesn’t burn anyone who touches her like this, it’s more of this sort of overwhelming warmth in your chest, running along your nerves and gently taking the weight off of you. Should you let it. And god if she’s healing an injury it eases the pain and the light will literally seal the wounds for you. 

These two visuals are sort of the polar opposite of one another and that’s really the point of it. I wanted to make it more than just ‘oh she didn’t die and shit sucks’ vs ‘she died and she has a decent life.’ I wanted to draw out the most powerful aspect of these versions of her & pull it to the visualization of them. I mean honestly it’s one of my fave tropes. and maybe it’s cheap trick to do it like that but it’s so good. It’s so good. Listen, No Death Revas has so much weight pulling her down yet have her represented by flames and fire, burning determination and hope? It’s so ideal. It’s so good for her. & to have Revas normally represented by Ravens and wings? It’s extremely fitting because she’s still this little shit. She is a symbol of carefree but overly caring. Someone who remembers so much and cares about the details. It’s so good i unno i love her. 

Misc difference in details between the two: 

    Hairstyle: Normally, Revas has extremely long hair that reaches her ankles. It’s usually pulled up into a high tight ponytail or braided. Wearing it down is usually saved for spending time with someone she loves, romantically, or just casual tiredness. However, in No Death, she shaves both sides of her head & keeps her hair length down to her collar bone or to the middle of her shoulder blades. But, it’s usually parted to hide the shaved sides for work, or pulled to one side & tied. This is mostly based on my own coping mechanism of cutting my hair after loss. 

   Dress: Typically, she’ll wear pretty revealing clothing. Ranging from open back tops & booty shorts to crop tops & short skirts. She does usually wear shorts tho. It’s her thing. She likes showing off her body because she’s proud of it and enjoys it. Though, also because she mainly lives in California so. lmao. But again, in comparison to No Death, it’s the opposite. Due to a lot of trauma and shame of how her body looks, she wears non fitting clothing and generally doesn’t wear anything that shows off her features. Because she really hates showing off tbh. Like its a lot of Frumpy clothes. but it keeps her comfy so. 

        ****TW: SELF HARM****   Scars: Notably the only real major scars on Revas are the one on her throat, and the matching long ones down her forearms. Of course she also has some on her face; One: across her left eye, along her left side of her jaw & going from her left nostril to the right side of her jaw. Two crossing over her right eye & connecting mid cheek. Only the scars on her throat & over her eyes don’t appear in No Death. However, she does have a noticeable forehead scar. Besides facial scars she does have a lot of self-harm scars along her arms and thighs. Most of them are well healed. She also has a  scar along the right of her torso, matching both back and front. ( this was from falling onto something and being impaled but it healed quickly ) As well as a scar at the bottom of her ribs from the ritual to become immortal.     I should note that her healing ability only increases how rapidly she can heal. she retains some damage & scars from the injury should they be significant to her.          *** tw end ****

I try my best to bring out characteristics and make shit detailed af so if i, or anyone else, ever wants to draw revas it’s all sort of summed up there man its good stuff i love her so much. 

#oc: Revas #c: Revas Ramsey #au: No Death #self harm // #self harm tw #family death ment #long post #i love revas so much and i like talking about these things so much god #scriptuurient #this has almost 2000 words jfc

[taintedones]

TASK: 009  ::  CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

What are your character’s nicknames, if any?

99% of the people she knows, calls vida by her standard name.  However her grandfather used to refer to her as one of two things:  vee or  kitty,   due to the fact that her hair used to look like a lions mane when she forgot to brush it   &  the fact that   ‘lions were just big cats really’   according to him.

Do they have any bad habits?

yes!    vida bites her fingernails when she feels awkward,   which is most of the time.  she does it in public,   usually it’s her pinky fingers but she’s not overly particular.     her nails are very short because of it.

Do they have any tattoos? If not, would they want one?

she doesn’t currently have one   but  she wouldn’t be opposed to getting one if she could think of a meaningful reason behind it.    though considering vida doesn’t have any real meaningful connections with anything, it’s highly unlikely she’d ever get one.   though she’s the kind of person who you use a pen & some ink to give herself one out of sheer boredom.

Do they have any scars? How did they get them?

due to the fact that little vida was a tearaway she has quite a few.  there’s one at the front of her hairline that she got after running in to a fence when she was a toddler,    though that’s always covered.   considering the amount of times she scraped her knees as a kid,   it’s remarkable that she only has one scar on them, on the left knee from playfighting with her brother once.    the most recent addition is a small mark on the side of her thumb where one of the men she works threw a knife for her to catch --- it did not end well. 

How do they dress most of the time?

once upon a time vida used to wear dresses,      that was a  long  time ago.  nowadays you’ll mostly see her in oversized shirts that reach just above her knee and some thermal socks  or  oddly knit tights.   when it’s colder she’ll put a pair of trousers on but the girls internal thermometer is fucked so that’s rare. she had a single pare of workers boots that she wears   everywhere.     when she’s working she’ll throw a mud brown boiler suit on over it  that,   though she’d never admit it,   is super comfortable.

What words or phrases do they use frequently?

vida is a real idiom machine,     it’s quite disturbing how many old time phrases she knows.       c’est la vie   is a favourite of hers,     simply because it always feels so ironic.      i’ve been chosen to die in front of millions?    c’est la vie.  hope breeds eternal misery is another one she uses often,       there’s part of her that really enjoys raining on people’s parades,    (  there’s another one )   nothing does that quite like making them miserable.      although her most used word would have to be :    no.

If anyone, who do they trust to protect them?

the short answer is;    no one.     vida would like to think that her parents and aise ( her brother )  would protect her if she ever got in to trouble if they were around.  though her parents would be rather useless  whilst  aise would just make the situation one hundred times worse.    she used to trust her grandfather,   then he disappeared  &  that trust disintegrated.     deep down,    she trusts herself to protect her.     though on the surface she even questions that.

Are they argumentative or do they avoid conflict?

that depends on who she’s arguing with.     there have been occasions where she spat back in her parents face when they’ve tried to tell her what was best for her.  if they were living in different times,   maybe she would’ve said more.   however vida finds most conflict pointless so she mostly avoids it.   

Did they have any role models growing up other than their parents?

(  have i mentioned her grandfather yet?       i knot sure i have.  )

her grandfather was always that person she inspired to be like,  purely because he was himself.      his own son shunned him half the time but he didn’t care.    he had this    ‘people can do what they like to me’  attitude  &  a real desire to do what was right.     vida can’t pretend to be as morally fair as he was   but  she takes a lot from him.

When was the time when they were the most frightened?

at seven years old,     vida witnessed some peacekeepers raid a house near hers.     she wasn’t sure what they were looking for at that age, all she paid attention to was a large dog that one of them had.  At one point it made a dash towards her and barked.    despite being yards away,    vida still felt scared.  she didn’t know what was once,     the dog snarling or the peacekeeper who found the thing incredibly amusing.    though the event itself wasn’t overly terrifying,  the nightmares she had after that kept her from sleeping for weeks.   to this day she hates dog-like creatures.    here’s hoping there are no wolves in the arena.

 When was the time when they were the happiest?

vida finds happiness in the smallest of moments usually.    they are few and far between but when she’s happy about something,  the happiness will last for hours.  the happiest she had ever been was before she became disillusioned with life.   around the same age as the peacekeeper/dog incident,   vida was dared to climb a telephone pole by a boy from across the street.   when she reached the top she could see over the fences of district five and out into the woods surrounding them.   it was the first moment she’d really seen other things  &  realised that being high up was fun --- it was also rewarding seeing the look on the boys have.

What is their most embarrassing moment?

when vida was thirteen her mother got tired of having to tidy up her hair for her and decided to chop it all off at her shoulders.   going in to school the next day was horrifying as she thought she looked like a boy.     she considered getting some boys clothes and pretending to be a new student  but since her mother worked there that plan had a few holes.   the first girl who laid eyes on her giggles and vida ran.   though the girl in question hadn’t been laughing at her at all,  she felt humiliated and spent the day sobbing in her grandad’s lap.

Are they optimistic or pessimistic?

pessimistic,      for sure.   various things have lead to that decisions.   to sum it all up,    vida just can’t imagine being optimistic whilst living in a place like panem.  also, what did she have to be optimistic about?

What is their most treasured possession?

a pressed daisy,    which also happens to be her token for the games.  very few flowers grow in the turbine field yet she randomly found this flower whilst laying there one day and preserved it in the pages of a book.    she found it the day before she was reaped for the games and decided to take it to the reaping. a reminder that beauty does exist in this bleak world.

How do they spend a typical Saturday night?

Saturday’s are particularly busy days in the engineering  profession.  it’s the day when they go round to the other work places and fix things that are broken whilst people have time off.  it’s incredibly exhausting and by the time they’ve finished it’s half way through the evening. vida usually walks back through the turbine field because it’s a shorter walk.   there have been occasions where she’s lied down there and had to be brought to bed by her brother or father.  if she makes it home she goes to bed and sleeps until everyone else is asleep, even if she’s not tied. simply because she’s too exhausted to deal with anyone.

What song would you use to describe them?

 ‘performance’  --- the xx.  perfectly explains how vida feels about her family and herself.   ‘I want you to notice but you just don't see. the show is wasted on you, so I perform for me.’     becoming this plain, shy thing rather than the wild child she used to be and realising that it doesn’t help her fit in. yet she stuck with that persona,   now it’s really her.

Are they introverted or extroverted?

introverted.    she likes to let herself believe that it’s because people irritate her but deep down she is quite afraid of peoples perceptions.

Are they organized or messy?

though she may have the appearance of someone who is organised,  vida is VERY messy.    though she doesn’t consider her mess to be ‘mess’ --- it’s just her system of doing things as she likes to see what she has.

What do they like about themselves?

vida knows that she has very intense eyes.   she can communicate purely with looks and that’s something she loves because it means she doesn’t have to talk. 

How do they relax?

the turbine field.    she loves going there to just lie down in the tall grass where no one can see her.    though it’s solitude that really relaxes her.   it doesn’t really matter where she is as long as she’s alone.

What is their ideal date?

vida is aromantic so what most people consider ‘dates’ aren’t really her cup of tea.   though if she were forced to go on a date she’d like it to be just her and whoever she was with. ideally not in a crowded area.  stargazing would be alright,    you don’t have to talk whilst stargazing.  she’d just need something to tell her if she could possibly enjoy the others solo company. 

also with a woman bc gay.

Do they want children? Why or why not?

not in this lifetime.   vida couldn’t imagine bringing children in to panem. she’s also never been good with them,   referring to larks twins as ‘things’ a couple times.    being responsible for a human is    yIKES to her. 

Where do they see themselves in five years?

dead.

What would be their three wishes if they found a genie’s lamp?

for her grandfather to return,  for a invisible bubble she could hop in when she needs to be alone & for things to be simple for her in regards to her family and life.

Describe your character sitting in their favourite spot.

the turbine field,   kind of already covered this but:    she usually starts by sitting down and then gradually relaxes and she de-stresses from the day.   she always leaves with grass stains on the back of her trousers but that doesn’t bother her. she can lay there for hours with her hands behind her head just looking at nothing in particular.

#ttwtask #task: 009 #lots of grandpa #& lots of turbine field #which is just vida summed up completely

[pedroscurls]

@dixonsvixon2017​ requested:  Can you do a JDMxreader imagine where she plays Cherry Pie by Warrant and gives him a lap dance and strip tease and smut proceeds to happen?

Word Count: 4,439 Author's Note: This was absolutely fun to write! I added a bit of backstory (reader is a stripper whose boss is under surveillance for some illegal activity and JDM -- the police officer -- requires help from a woman he meets). So, thank you @dixonsvixon2017​ for this request! I had so much fun writing it and imagining Joe Merriweather as the face claim. I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it! :) Warning: Smut!!!

You were new to Tease. At first, you started as a bartender. You were always so uncomfortable with working at a strip club, but it helped pay your way through school. When your boss offered you a “promotion” as a stripper, you knew you couldn’t refuse the offer simply because of the increase in your pay.

Tonight, however, you were back behind the bar. It had only been a couple of days since you were promoted. You usually focused more on the music rather than the act itself. Yes, you danced on men and yes, you slid down poles, but you drew the line at removing your clothes.

It was Sports night, so your uniform behind the bar required a Sports jersey and bikini shorts underneath.

You always loved baseball, so you decide to wear black bikini shorts with a baseball jersey over your black lacy bra. You buttoned the jersey enough to cover your abdomen, but enough to reveal your cleavage. Your boss had told you that since hiring you, business had skyrocketed.

You were swaying your hips to the music absently, fixing up drinks for the men that were seated around the stage. The good thing about being a bartender was that not many visitors decided to sit at the bar itself unless all chairs and tables were taken.

As you were pouring a drink into the glass, you heard a deep voice calling out his order.

“Can I get a beer, please?”

You handed the other woman the drink to give to one of the men waiting before you decided to turn your attention to this man who decided to sit at the bar.

When your eyes met his, you felt your breath being taken away.

He was handsome.

He was clad in a light blue button up that was buttoned enough to reveal his peeking chest hair. The stubble on his face didn’t hide the fact that he had dimples. His hair was slightly slicked back, but it was slightly disheveled to give off the vibe that he could have a good time, but he could also be serious. His sleeves were folded up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos that littered his forearms.

“Oh, of course. Uh, Heineken or Corona?” You asked.

“Surprise me,” he smiled.

“Corona it is.”

You opened the bottle and set it on the counter, watching as his eyes deviated to the stage. You sighed. Of course. He was probably here to release some stress from work, but when he didn’t get up to sit at one of the vacant tables near the stage, you arched a brow.

“You like to watch from afar?” You asked hesitantly.

“It’s my first time here at one of these things,” he admitted.

“By one of these things you mean a strip club?”

He laughed quietly, “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

“Well, it’s pretty self-explanatory. As long as you’ve got dollar bills, you’ll do fine. If you like something you see, then reward the girl and if you want a lap dance, you pay extra. Simple as that.”

“How come you aren’t up there?” He asked.

You arched a brow, looking at the orders of drinks that you had to make before your coworker were to retrieve it.

“I’m kind of new here. Maybe three months. Started out as a bartender and as of three days ago, I should be up there, but one of the bartenders called out sick, so here I am.”

You continued conversation, mixing drinks to the customers liking before setting it on the black tray for your coworker to retrieve.

“You seem a bit too innocent to be one of the strippers,” he said.

You laughed quietly, shrugging a shoulder.

“Guess so, but apparently, I can shake my ass better than the girls who have been doing this for a long time. Besides, this is just temporary. I’ve been here three months and I’m making more money than I have at my previous job.”

The man laughed again. “I’m Jeffrey, by the way.”

You screeched internally. Maybe working here wasn’t such a bad thing, but that also left the looming question of what was he doing here.

“I’m [Y/N].”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Y/N].”

The way you name rolled off his tongue made you bite your lower lip and squeeze your legs. It wasn’t helping that you were dressed in lesser clothing than what you were used to.

“So, you said it’s your first time at one of these strip clubs, right?”

Jeffrey nodded.

“What’s your opinion on it? How do you like it?”

Jeffrey smiled, “Well, I’m more interested in talking with the bartender than having a random girl straddle my waist or take their clothes off to be honest.”

You blushed, looking down at the ice bin before you got another round of drinks.

“You think you’re really charming, huh?” You teased, your attention focused on the drinks at hand.

“Hm, maybe just a tiny bit.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head and finishing the drinks quickly. You glanced over at Jeffrey to see that his eyes were focused solely on you and it was different because he wasn’t allowing his eyes to deviate to your backside, your exposed legs, or your cleavage. He was being a gentleman. He was simply watching how you worked.

“You said you worked here three months. How do you like it?” Jeffrey asked.

You shrugged, “I can’t complain. It pays the bills and my school, and it also leaves me more to spend however I please. The manager can be better, though.”

You knew that badmouthing your boss would bite you in the ass later in life, but Jeffrey seemed genuinely concerned and interested. He didn’t seem like he would turn around and tell your boss anyway. Either way, you weren’t worried.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he gives me the creeps, but then again, I guess that’s what happens when you work at a strip club.”

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes. “Not necessarily, [Y/N]. You’re here to work and despite it being a very different job than what is normal, it’s still a job. There are still boundaries that an employer cannot break.”

“Guess you’re right, besides, he hasn’t tried anything on me and even if he did, he would certainly get his ass handed to him,” you said.

Jeffrey chuckled, flashing her his dimples. “You’re funny.”

“Why’s that? Don’t believe I can kick a man’s ass?” you asked, arching a brow.

“Oh, no no. I certainly wouldn’t want to find out, but you’re innocent looking and then you say something like that and it’s – it’s unexpected.”

“Yeah, well you ever hear the phrase of don’t judge a book by its cover or looks can be deceiving? Well, that’s me.”

You smiled, looking up at him. They were having a nice conversation, but in the back of her mind, you had to ask why he was here. There had to be some sort of reason.

“Jeffrey? Why are you here?

He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his empty beer bottle.

“When’s your break?” He asked.

“I don’t do that. Just because we’ve had a nice conversation doesn’t mean I’ll –”

“[Y/N], calm down.” Jeffrey said, flashing his police badge. “I just want to talk, that’s all.”

“What’s going on? Who are you?” you asked.

“I need your help. You’re new here so I know you won’t stay loyal to Colin, but we have to talk privately.”

“How did you know my boss’s name is Colin?” You asked.

“Can we talk outside?”

You slowly nodded, motioning to your coworker that you were going to take your lunch. On the way out, you grabbed your coat and walked out of the strip club with Jeffrey behind you.

He led you to his car that was parked across the street, giving them both the privacy they needed. You didn’t know why you followed him, why you even listened to him, but there was something about Jeffrey that was so genuine.

You knew that he wasn’t lying and whatever he was about to tell you would change the way you would look at Colin.

“I need you to get some information on Colin,” Jeffrey said.

“What do you mean information?”

“Files, notebooks, receipts, anything. Do you ever go into his office?”

You shook your head.

“I need you to try and sneak in then. We’ve been monitoring him for almost a year now. I think he’s an accessory to a murder and he’s also dealing with drugs.”

“I’m going to quit. Oh my god. I’m going to fucking quit,” you said.

Jeffrey shook his head. “No, no, no. You can’t, [Y/N]. I need you to do this, okay?”

“What if I get in the crossfire of things?!”

“You won’t because I’ll be there.”

“How will you be there if I’m supposed to be your link to figuring all of this out, Jeffrey?!”

“We’re going to have you go in there with a wire and a camera. Do you wear glasses?”

You nodded, “On occasion, yes.”

“Great. We’re going to attach a microscopic camera to your glasses. We will see everything you see and we will hear everything you hear. The second this plan goes south, we will bust in guns ablaze.”

“I don’t even know you! What makes you think I’ll do it?”

“Because I know you’re struggling with school. I know you have a brother who’s sick back home. I know that this job is the only thing keeping you going with financial stability, but I also know that you hate coming into work because of Colin. I have a few of my guys undercover and they always tell me that Colin pay close attention to you especially,” Jeffrey explained.

“You looked me up? Was our entire conversation back in the bar set up?” you asked, slightly shocked.

“At first, yes, it was, okay? Then I started talking to you and it was nice. I enjoyed it.”

“We barely talked for a good hour, Jeffrey.”

“Yeah, well, if you fucking know me, you’d know that it’s hard for a woman to get my attention. But that’s beside the point.”

You sighed. You really did feel uncomfortable around Colin. The other girls always told you that he acted that way with newcomers, but it didn’t give him the right to ogle you as if you were a piece of meat.

“You said you’re going to make sure I don’t get caught?” you asked.

Jeffrey nodded, “I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, [Y/N].”

“You’re asking quite a lot for someone you just met.”

“You’re my only hope. If I had another way to resolve this, I would, but I don’t. You have my word. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I fucking promise.”

You felt an odd sensation of comfort. There was no way you were actually trusting him, right? Maybe you were, but only because he was a police officer.

“… Okay, Jeffrey.”

His smile made you blush. You couldn’t get enough of it.

“Here’s my number. Don’t hesitate to call me. About anything,” he said.

You nodded, motioning back to the strip club. “I better get going. I’ll talk to you later, Jeffrey.”

--

The following day, Jeffrey texted you that you would have to talk to Colin. So, when you stopped by the police station to have the mic and camera set up to your glasses, you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Jeffrey noticed.

“You’re going to be okay. We’ll be right across the street.” He said, adjusting your glasses onto the bridge of her nose.

You scrunched your nose, looking up at him. He was in your personal space and you couldn’t help but let your eyes deviate to his chest hair that was peeking past his shirt. Oh, and he smelled good. You could have stood there all day, reveling in the close proximity.

“You’re set,” Jeffrey said, interrupting your thoughts.

“Oh … Okay.”

Jeffrey stared into your eyes for a moment, smiling to himself. He knew this was going to go as smoothly as possible.

“Maybe after all of this… We can have a cup of coffee or something,” he suggested.

You smiled, “Is that your way of asking me out?”

“So what if it is?”

“If it is, then I’d like that very much.”

Jeffrey grinned.

There go those fucking dimples again.

“Great. Now, let’s get this over with.”

An hour later and you were fidgeting in the seat across Colin’s desk. Despite your attire, he made it apparent that he was allowing his eyes to rake every inch of your body. It was highly uncomfortable.

Before you could talk, he excused himself at the sound of a knock. You looked over your shoulder to look at the other man who entered the room. You cleared your throat. You were really hoping that Jeffrey and the rest of his crew were seeing what you were seeing.

“I’ll be right back, love. Don’t go anywhere,” Colin said, winking.

You nodded. When the door shut, you immediately began rummaging through the drawers of his desk. You had to work quick.

Until you found a bag of cocaine stuffed at the last drawer.

“I hope you’re fucking seeing this, Jeffrey.”

When you heard footsteps approaching, you immediately walked back to your seat. You needed to act normal.

After a very awkward conversation with Colin, you exited the strip club. You walked to your car and sighed, rubbing your eyes as you removed your glasses.

“I better get something in return,” you mumbled under your breath, forgetting about the mic and camera that was set up with your glasses.

Jeffrey listened intently with an arched brow.

“He’s hot, but he’s way out of your league. Plus, he’s a bit old,” you told herself, trying to reason with your raging thoughts about Jeffrey.

Jeffrey grinned, deciding to dial her number.

You flinched at the abrupt noise before it finally sunk in.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Hesitantly answering your phone, you bit your lower lip at the sound of Jeffrey’s voice.

“Good work,” he said.

In a rush, you replied, “You heard everything I said, didn’t you?”

Jeffrey glanced around, making sure no one would hear him.

“I’m not old,” he mumbled, “And I can definitely show you a better time than half the guys my age.”

You cleared your throat. Oh. You were definitely feeling aroused now.

“I guess you’ll have to prove that,” you smiled, looking directly into the camera and winking.

--

Later that night, you were dressed in a skimpy red, lace, two-piece lingerie. Colin told you that you were the only one allowed to wear lingerie, simply because it made you look more innocent than you already did.

You were moving your hips along the beat of the song before your eyes caught Jeffrey walking into the club. You bit your lower lip, locking eyes with him as the movement of your hips became more defined and pointed.

You watched him walk to the bar, whispering something into the ear of the bartender. Moments later, Colin appeared from the backroom and began talking with Jeffrey. It seemed like a civil conversation.

Instantly, Colin motioned for you to get off stage. You did as he asked, walking towards the bar. You innocently stood next to Jeffrey, glancing up at him before your eyes settled on her boss.

“This man here has requested for a private show,” Colin said.

“Oh… I haven’t done a private show yet, Colin,” you replied.

Colin immediately shook his head. “What better time to learn than now? Am I right?” He laughed, slapping Jeffrey on the back.

Jeffrey forced a smile, looking down at you.

“Okay… Follow me this way.” you said, walking away from the bar as you led Jeffrey to one of the private rooms. You could tell that his eyes were deviating.

“You’re really beautiful,” he mumbled.

You looked over your shoulder at him, shutting the door once you were both inside.

“Thanks. Now, why are you really here?”

Jeffrey took a seat, glancing around the spacious room. There was a pole at the corner of this room and a small stage in front of him. It was definitely a place to entertain its guest.

“I wanted to see you,” he said.

“And you couldn’t text me to do that?”

“I may have taken what you said to offense. I’m not old,” Jeffrey repeated.

You giggled, “That’s why you came back here?”

“Amongst other things. I was kind of hoping you would be working at the bar.”

“Not many men would say something like that when they’ve got a woman dressed like this right in front of him.”

“I’m not most men, I guess. You gonna show me why you got promoted?” Jeffrey teased.

“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

Jeffrey smiled, “We’re going to arrest him tomorrow. Good job, [Y/N].”

You bit your lower lip, absently squeezing your legs at the way your name escaped his lips.

“I’m glad to have helped.”

Jeffrey stood up, beginning to walk to the door to leave before he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. He turned around, looking down at you.

“I’m not paying you to dance for me,” he said.

“Don’t. I want to do this. I’d rather you be my first,” you mumbled.

“And hopefully your last private show,” he added.

You smiled. “Why? Do you get jealous?”

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I get fucking jealous, all right. Are you sure you want to do this?”

You nodded without hesitation.

“Hell yes,” she replied. “Now, take a seat.”

Jeffrey cleared his throat, nodding. He sat at the couch, watching you carefully. He allowed his eyes to deviate to your backside once you stepped onto the small stage. He looked up at you, biting his lower lip as the music began to play.

She’s my cherry pie

Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise

Tastes so good makes a grown man cry

Sweet Cherry pie

Every step you took went with the beat of the song and suddenly, you gained the confidence you never knew you had. You slowly rolled her hips, walking towards the pole. You looked over your shoulder at him, flashing a small smile.

When you wrapped a leg around the pole and tilted your head back, Jeffrey immediately felt all blood rush south. He was trying to be a gentleman and just enjoy the show, but he had a feeling this was solely meant for him.

Swingin’ on the front porch

Swingin’ on the lawn

Swingin’ where we want

‘Cause there ain’t nobody home

You began dancing against the pole, grasping it tightly as you lifted yourself from the floor. Your legs wrapped around it, your eyes solely focused on Jeffrey. When you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, you allowed yourself to display your flexibility by going into a split.

“Oh fuck, you’re flexible. Wow. Okay,” he mumbled.

You giggled. You stood from the floor and walked towards him, your hips swaying to the beat.

Slowly, you straddled his lap and gasped instantly at the feel of his bulge pressing against your almost instantly. In response, you applied pressure by sitting further onto his lap and slowly rolling your hips according to the song.

You placed your hands at the back of the couch, rolling your hips to create friction. You whimpered at the feel of him brushing against you and you pulled back to bring a hand to the clasp of your bra.

Jeffrey didn’t know how long he could last without flipping your positions and taking control. This was your time, though, and he was going to give it to you.

When the bra loosened around your frame, Jeffrey waited for you to pull it from her body. He groaned when he realized you were teasing him.

“I’m going to rip it from you,” he growled.

You grinned, “Do it and you buy me a new one.”

Jeffrey arched a brow, tugging it from your body and tossing it aside.

“We’ll get one for every color,” he added.

You surprisingly didn’t feel self-conscious about your breasts. He stared at you with such admiration that it was hard to believe they met just yesterday.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You grabbed his hands, placing them at your hips as you continued to move against him.

She’s my cherry pie

Cool drink of water

Such a sweet surprise

Tastes so good

Make a grown man cry

“I can’t take it. Can I touch you?” Jeffrey asked.

You arched a brow before standing from his lap. You turned your back to him, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You looked over your shoulder and noticed that his eyes were focused solely on your backside, only occasionally looking up at you.

Slowly, you lowered your panties until it hit the floor.

You heard him grown, following the shuffling of his belt hitting the ground.

You turned around to look at him, his shirt undone and his pants around his ankles.

“What are you doing?” You asked, biting your lower lip at the evident tent.

“Making it easier for you to feel me,” he grinned.

Jeffrey tugged on your hand, pulling you back onto his lap. You gasped. The thin fabric of his boxers did nothing but make you want him more. You were sure that he could feel your heat radiating through him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked over the music.

You smiled, leaning in to press your lips against his.

You thought you would never meet someone who was excellent at kissing, until him. His beard gently scratched you, but the way his lips moved against yours with such care made you whimper.

He was taking his time despite the raging erection he was experiencing. You knew. You knew if you had him, you weren’t going to get enough.

You were going to want more.

Slowly, you felt him lift you only slightly and you pulled away to look down at where his hand was. He was removing himself from his boxers. When you finally got a good look at his manhood, you gasped.

No one you slept with had ever gotten close to being as big as him.

“What did you say about me being old?” Jeffrey smirked, running the tip over the length of your sex.

“If men your age are like this, I’m looking in the wrong places,” you teased.

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes, pushing his tip into your soaking, tight heat. You groaned, gripping his shoulders.

“I’m going to leave you so sore,” he promised.

You grinned, leaning in to nip at his lower lip before you pulled away.

“Give me your best shot.”

She’s my cherry pie

Cool drink of water

Such a sweet surprise

Tastes so good

Make a grown man cry

Sweet cherry pie oh yeah

She’s my cherry pie

Suddenly, Jeffrey slammed up into you, causing your nails to dig into his shoulders. If it weren’t for his shirt, you were sure that you would have drawn blood at the tight grip.

“Fuck,” Jeffrey whispered, slowly lowering you further down onto his member. When you felt the rest of him enter your depths, you had to remain still. It was going to take a while to adjust.

Your arms move to wrap around his shoulders instead, your legs spread open for him to move. You let your feet rest at either side of him on the couch, glancing down to watch as he began to move his hips.

“Oh my god, Jeffrey…” you moaned, throwing your head back. He felt so good inside of you.

Jeffrey’s grunts were quieted over the loud music, but you heard it. His deep, gravelly growl made you slam yourself down onto him, causing him to grunt. He was in deep and you couldn’t believe it.

It felt so good.

He picked you up, setting you onto your back as his hips began moving at a fast pace. You could feel the couch hit the wall with each hard thrust he took. He wasn’t showing any mercy and you were thankful. You always wanted a dominant man in bed.

His hand moved to cover your breasts, fondling them as his hips moved effortlessly against you. You were soaking wet and it allowed him to move easier within your tight walls.

He was hooked. The minute he laid eyes on you, Jeffrey knew that you were going to be his.

“Jeffrey…” You moaned.

He grinned down at you, leaning down to place his lips against the crook of your neck. He knew you loved his facial hair. Since talking to you last night, he would watch your eyes deviate to the facial hair he had and from the loud moan that escaped your lips just now, he was right.

“Oh my god!” You moaned, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer than before.

His hips move on its own, watching as your face contort into pleasure. Your eyes had fallen shut and your mouth was left agape with the sounds of moans escaping your lips continuously.

“Fuck, baby…” He mumbled, moving his hands to your hips and gripping it tightly.

Jeffrey could tell you were close.

He began pistoning his hips into you without any sign of stopping. He was sure you were going to feel sore tomorrow morning.

The heels of your feet dig at his lower back, urging him to remain still once your walls contracted tightly around his member.

Jeffrey groaned, moving his hips slowly as he felt your body shake beneath him.

After a few moments, Jeffrey moved his hips once more. He needed to find release.

He looked down at you, watching as your eyes opened to look into his own. Jeffrey smiled, reaching down to cup your cheek as his hips move slowly against you to revel in your tight walls milking him to his own climax.

After a couple of thrusts, Jeffrey pulled out quickly. He grasped his member and stroked it quickly as he watched his release splatter onto your abdomen. He smiled tiredly, looking down at you as he reached for a nearby napkin to clean his seed off of your skin.

After last night, Jeffrey wanted to see you again.

After what just happened right now, Jeffrey made sure that this was going to occur again.

“You’re never doing this to another man again,” he grunted, lying next to you.

“I think I’m going to quit,” you said.

Jeffrey smiled, “Good.”

#jeffrey dean morgan #jdm fanfiction #jdm x reader #prompts #oneshot #one shot #solace #joe merriweather #reader-insert

[seekerandthewizard88-blog]

The Other Side of Fear

(This was originally written in July...)

 by Kat

 I’ve been hunkered down this past week…. in the mouth of a lion. 

 I chose a moment like this once. I walked willingly into it, acquiescing to my ex’s daughter who pleaded with me to share the moment. I knew I wanted a lasting memory with her for many reasons, and I didn’t know when the next opportunity would be… Her bright eyes were so full of wonder, excitement, and life- mine, as usual, so cautious. I remember every second of those few minutes. Terror has a way of burning timeless, hyper-detailed memories into one’s mind. I said yes. There would be no going back. It was only a rollercoaster.

 I can hear each click of the belt, the angle of ascent getting steeper, and how my organs felt pressed up against the inside of my ribs. I remember gripping her little hand and searching it for safety. I can remember how a laugh looks when you use your whole 11 year old body, at the inappropriate words coming involuntarily out of my mouth. I can remember trying to decide if it was better to close my eyes since we were being pulled backwards and I could almost calculate how perpendicular I was to the ground if I kept them open. I remember my heart beating ferociously in protest when I closed them. I remember when there were no more ominous clicks… when it stopped being impending as the belt released and suddenly there was no tether any longer, just dead weight and gravity. I remember the roar of the wheels against the futility of my most primal screams into the air and the moment after I could no longer hold on tight- my muscles going flaccid from a combination of sheer exhaustion and hormonal overload. 

 I closed my eyes as I was flipped upside down for the first time, not knowing what to expect. Then something happened in that loop as I was carried by the experience. I remember being surprised at how easy it was to slip into the feeling of surrender. I suspect it had been there that whole time, waiting for me to notice. I became aware of the cool breeze on my face as we whooshed through the air. I was nowhere else in the world. And then, just as I was enjoying this new feeling, I felt the car slow to a crawl as we docked. I laughed. It was over. I had survived what I had deemed earlier as certain death. As I struggled to regain voluntary control of my legs, I remember my spritely companion whipping around to realize that I was lagging far behind in a daze. She skipped back, beaming, to collect me and guide me back to the group. I can’t recall what happened after as I had probably used all my mental storage for the day in those 5 minutes. I only remember how happy she was that she got to be the one riding next to me.  

 There was a moment looking back when I realized I was on the other side of fear. How many rollercoasters have come and gone since that time? Even still, I get stuck in the moments of rigid muscles and primal screams, protesting the inevitable…. This past week was one of them. 

 Wednesday afternoon, sitting in class, and suddenly I’m on a rollercoaster. That’s what panic attacks, or whatever this is, are like. An involuntary amusement park ride anytime, anywhere. I excused myself into the hallway to regain my composure and prevent my passing out in front of the whole class. I had also convinced myself that I could talk myself through it without resorting to Xanax and its zombie-like effects.

 I finally broke down Thursday night. I hadn’t slept since Tuesday night and I had missed school, missed a final, went to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, still no answers, mind going a mile a minute about what it could possibly be… and in the ambulance, all I could think was- how can I relate my symptoms in such a way that they’ll do this or that test to see if it’s what I think it is this time. Something was obviously very clearly wrong, and I’m a very rational person. But, having to carry it all on my shoulders, the phrase "no cure." FUCK. 5 hours of sleep in 36 hours. Delerium. Consulting all the people. Friends, energy healers, doctors, acupuncturists… Maybe it’s ascension symptoms. Maybe it’s my thyroid. It's EBV. It’s a possible heart defect. It’s liver overacting on spleen. MAYBE it's fucking Maybelline at this point. But why won’t any of these doctors listen to me? The panic/anxiety is the branch, not the root! Last month I was certain it was a kidney stone……….. but they are fickle things. Perhaps I passed it. I never saw anything. But I can’t trust these doctors to care. No one these days is out for our own good. (Interesting point of view, aka, POV). Clearly I have trust issues at play…. is the world trustworthy?

 Sigh. Reading that last paragraph is a fraction of the frustration I felt living it. 

 I think it was wednesday that I looked down randomly at my tattoo. I only have one. It’s in sanskrit and it means, “the path to God through surrender.” I thought to myself, how can I surrender to a terminal diagnosis? How can I surrender to pain and unbearable insomnia in the midst of such visceral suffering? How can I surrender to what I thought was certain death? Ahh… the illusion of the rollercoaster. What is really here? What is the shape of the face of this demon that I had been avoiding since over a year ago? How could I know if I never looked? How much of the suffering was my own creation?

 I still can’t tell you the meaning of certain things months, years, or decades after they happen. Can you imagine a perspective so vast it encompasses the wisdom of everything that has ever transpired throughout time and space? I’m lucky if I can notice my surroundings as I walk lol… Sometimes I get a glimpse of a piece of a speck of a thing inside this galaxy. A real glimpse. And in a microcosmic way, I think... maybe this is what it's like to be Source. Except it's like that simultaneously with every speck everywhere. Omnipresence as they call it. Mmm. 

 Would I have gone on the real rollercoaster alone? Absolutely not. Did sharing the experience make it any safer? No. But the perception of it was different. The meaning of it was different. And so the spirit had a different experience. 

 Forgive the chaotic juxtaposition of the fibers I am weaving throughout this tapestry. The connections happen too fast to adequately explain the pathways it took for me to arrive at my next thought. 

 My mother has been staying with me this past weekend. Terror hasn’t changed except for that I chose to share it. And in so doing it has taken on a different meaning. Since she got here, I have been able to sleep. I still get symptoms, but I feel safe because I know I am loved and supported. There are countless people who have showed up for me during this difficult time. Ones who stayed up 8 hours on the phone while I tapped my collar bones and forehead while singing row row row your boat in harmonious rounds. Ones who have seen me through some really hard times over the years. Ones who know some of the scary paths I have had to walk down. Ones who gently suggested that I see a therapist. The ones who know me, who see me, who care to tell me the truth as they see it. The ones who have lived through their own rollercoasters. The ones who are happy to be the one who gets to sit next to me for the ride.

 I have always felt like if I can’t help, the least I can do is to not add to the collective shit pile. I didn’t ever want anyone worrying about me, especially not my mother… not in her state. It finally took a few trusted friends telling me their experiences (after getting over their shock that I hadn’t told my mother what I was going through) - one said that she wished she had a mother like mine, willing to rush to my aid and be a mother at the drop of a hat, and another who related that her mom is her rock, always the first one she calls. Both of them said that I can’t stop my mother from worrying… I realize now that they were right. She’s always going to feel how she’s going to feel. But I deserve to feel loved and supported, and I have only myself to blame if I isolate and push that away, whatever avenue it tries to come to me from. You can’t cut yourself off from help like that and expect it not to change you and how you view the world. No one is meant to go through this life alone. I thought I was “helping” by keeping quiet, but what I was really doing was devaluing myself. So in effect - deep down - I was saying, “my pain doesn’t count,” and all sorts of pathology stemmed from that belief, with its heavy roots running deep into my subconscious layers.  

 I don’t know how I end up with the perspective that I do. I’m grateful that terrifying experiences end up gifting me these life saving gems of wisdom. Honestly, I can’t take credit for any of it… it just comes to me like a whisper as I sit and observe with an open mind. What I’m hearing lately over and over is- my pain counts. Speaking my truth has to become the foundation for my life. Support is available always. I am so protected and guided it’s ridiculous. I have always had everything I needed. Now I choose to use what I was given without hesitation or guilt. No longer will I glorify the struggle, carrying all the weight of the world on my shoulders. We all end up in the same place, at least according to my friend who is a medium, so why not let it be easy? This life is hard enough. If you are lucky to have friends and family who care for you, let them. Let them build you up and give you strength so that you can pay it forward with your beautiful mission. Let love inspire you and you will create something greater than you could have ever hoped to all by yourself. As you continue to live life, it means more. With each passing day, everything is more. The fear is more, but the love is also more…

 I am sitting in my fold out chair facing the ocean. My mother is off to the left in front of the receding tide collecting rocks… only the whitest, roundest rocks to put in her potted plants back home. She doesn’t get to the beach often. She looks so small crouched there in the sand. I used to collect rocks as a child, and still do the very same when I am at the beach. I have never been more her daughter than now as I’m watching her from my perch. She has been cooking for me and learning all my food allergies. I have been warning her about the implications of drinking milk when you are lactose intolerant. The other day I got her to drink some celery juice. Yesterday she gave me a ruby ring that belonged to my grandmother. I feel my ancestors around me. I have been wearing my hair down since I haven’t been much in the mood to style it, and also it has gotten quite long since I haven’t had a chance to trek up to Meriden amidst all the health issues going on. I realized I don’t wear it down more often because it makes me look more asian and feminine… as I reclaim my strength these past few days I realize I can think of no image of strength more profound than the sight of my mother standing at the sink washing the last of the dishes instead of sitting down to put her feet up. But then I think about another kind of strength- the strength it takes to say - I need to sit down. I think about telling her to rest because we already had to stop and get Advil due to her back hurting. I really couldn’t be more like my mother if I tried. The two of us have been stubborn, giving to a fault, and worrying about everyone else but ourselves... and this has been going on in our family for generations. A fighting spirit, never giving up, but not knowing how to slow down and recharge.

 As I continue my education, the theme of balance persists. We will not be able to control when the rollercoasters come, how big, how many… but we can learn in those moments how to adjust so that our suffering is much less. What I’ve learned is that work can wait. People are more than happy to help and understand when you speak from the heart with authenticity. We all struggle. If we can learn how to connect to each other from that space of understanding, then there is nothing to worry about. Whatever brings us more stress in those moments needs to be examined. And if it cannot be altered, then perhaps it is time to let it go. Nothing is more sacred and more valuable than our well being. It needs to be something we are committed to guarding and defending as if our lives depended on it, because it does. 

 I have missed work and school, but as I’m getting closer to figuring out what helps me feel better, I’m more able to figure out what direction to go in next and what immediate next steps need to be taken care of. All I can say is- honor your path, honor your struggle, and honor each other. I’m re-inspired to regain voluntary control of my legs because I know now which way I need to go. I am surrounded by people who have helpful information and I know it is only a matter of time before I pull out a victory. And I will be very eager to share that with all of you! ......

 Endless gratitude and blessings,

The Wizard

#Self love #Self work #Self help #self awareness #Mindful living #Mindful #gratitude #growth #change #Choice