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maxiemumdamage · 3 years

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Aaaand Snarly (my mother) has gotten to the Rostelecom Cup! This is the one I’m most excited for, just cause there’s so many new characters.

TIS THE SEASON FOR YURI PARALLELS

She laughs when Yuri calls himself the Ice Tiger

She was very worried by the Grandpa’s back giving out at the fly tackle, and distressed when Nikolai worried about if the piroshki were good.

“Say they’re delicious you little bitch!”

Cringed when I told her “Sala” is a mistranslation of Sara.

She GASPED when Seung-Gil Lee was being rude to Sara.

She snorted at JJ’s little finger guns. And then I told her it was his initials.

She’s worried for Phichit, since he might not make it to the final. And it’s not like he has plot armor to guarantee it — he’s a minor character in the end.

Laughing at the Nishigori triplets antics.

“Is it racist for a South Korean man to skate to some Mexican bullfighting kind of song?” (Right off the bat when Seung-Gil starts skating)

Snarly found the discussion of sexual performance inflation funny. I think. She snorted, at least.

She was so worried when Seung-Gil fell! I get the feeling she hates seeing any of the skaters fail.

Re: Emil — “Why does he have the beard? It’s pubic hair.”

She loved Viktor being cold to JJ.

During Michele’s skate:

“Am I getting weird incest-y vibes with these super close ups?” (About the Crispinos. She’s totally right.)

“VILE.”

“Oh god he’s hateful.”

She did like the note about Michele doing his sister’s signature combination jump. She also gagged when he said they would ‘be together forever.’

She liked Sara talking about how Mickey needed to be able to fight on his own.

She was so sad when Yurio realized his Grandpa wasn’t coming.

She got sad when she saw Makkachin by himself staring at the buns. I don’t know how she’ll cope cause it gets WORSE.

Reiterating the point about the Nishigori triplets being Nara characters.

She loved Yuuri’s little dramatic flirting moment with Viktor.

“Well if he doesn’t if he doesn’t advance to the Grand Prix, the shows over.” (When Yuuri thinks about how he needs fourth place at minimum)

She loves Lilia’s “supervillain lady look.”

She’s SO SAD about Yurio not having his Grandpa there. Constant wailing or whimpering on his behalf.

“What are we gaping at?” (When Yurio comes out in his costume)

“Oh gross” (When Viktor does the skate kiss)

“It’s good that we’re invested in more than one character.” “So you like Yurio??” “I didn’t say I like him, I’m just invested.”

Though when he fell on the axel she said “oh, baby.”

She thinks the animation is better in closeup.

“Aw, kitties!”

When JJ make the ‘ladies first’ crack to Yurio she called JJ a “homophobic fuck.” Here, here!!

She laughed at Yurio’s little pouty stance.

And at all JJ’s inane drama about his “aesthetic.”

Mocking the lyrics to Theme of King JJ. It grew on me, but it really is ridiculous the first time you hear it.

“I keep hoping he’ll skate into a wall.”

Gagged when he kissed the ice. “I hope it’s like licking a pole and his tongue gets stuck there.”

“OH NO” when we find out about Makka.

“Why would they tell him? What can he do about it now?” (I reminded her about Vicchan once it ended. She was even more distressed.)

She laughed at their collective shock and horror at the idea of Yakov coaching Yuuri.

And for episode nine:

She thought it was cute when Viktor said to hug Yakov if he needed help.

She already thought the Grandpa was sweet before she saw the Katsudon pirosky. She thought it was so cute!

“Maybe not now???” (about Sara’s intervention with Michele)

“Her timing is not great”

Michele: *Yuuri looks like a closet pervert* Mom: “He’s one to talk”

She HATES the sibling incest. She said “I might have to hide in the other room.”

She likes Mila’s hair

Eyerolls at the sibling incest.

“They both have purple eyes. Anime logic.”

Michele: *this is goodbye, Sara* My Mom: “She’s your sister. You will see her again.”

“Whats with the sparkly gloves?”

“Ew, girl!” (At the start of Sara’s conversation with Mickey)

She really likes the smash cuts from skaters being super serious to the food plates. She thinks it’s funny

She likes Yurio’s hairdo and his skate decorations.

“Nice! …I can’t believe I’m commenting on this like it’s an actual skater.”

“Oh, no!!” (when Yurio says he’s tired)

She thinks the Katsudon nickname is very funny.

I started learning a little Japanese since my first watch of the show, so now I can appreciate just how dickish it was for JJ to call Yurio “Yuri-chan.” But that’s for another time.

“Put in your earplugs, dude” (to Yuuri)

She’s so worried about Yuuri throughout the performance. She said she agreed with him sending Viktor away, since he’d be so guilty if he didn’t, but clearly it had consequences.

“Is he doing good?”

Laughing at Yakov’s glare. A lot of faces made at Yakov’s scary lecture though.

She thought the hug was cute though!

She guessed JJ’s “king” line before it happened.

“It’s kind of funny having the bad guy be Canadian. No one makes Canadians the bad guys.”

Me: He’s the token straight along with Georgi. (My mom: “who?”) Me: the crying one with the eyeliner.

“Please fall. Please fall. Please fall.”

Laughing like crazy at Yuuri’s hugging rampage, but also some cooing.

“It’s funny seeing Yuuri wearing a mask, since this was made pre-pandemic.”

She laughs at Yurio’s little raging, but thought him comforting Yuuri was adorable. And the Katsudon pirosky!

She was relieved that Makkachin lived.

“In real life that dog would be jumping on them.”

She got worried when Yuuri asked Viktor to coach him until he retired, saying “but what if he wants to skate again?” OH HONEY. Can’t decide if I should remind her Yuuri wanted this to be his last season…

“THERE WE GO!!” when Makka leans in on the hug.

Overall really positive reactions to this one! Snarly loved the skating, and the new characters and relationship development are so strong.

She had pretty much the exact same reactions to the Crispinos and Yurio’s development and to JJ that I did when I first watched the series, so I figure she’ll enjoy seeing how the latter develop further in Barcelona.

I’m so excited for her to watch the next episode—since the power imbalance about Viktor being Yuuri’s coach is the main thing she dislikes about their relationship, I’m hoping the episode ten reveal will change her mind.

#snarly reacts to yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #yoi #yuri plisetsky #yurio plisetsky #seung gil lee #michele crispino #not tagging JJ cause I don’t wanna piss anyone off #Rostelecom Cup #original post

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realjessicareyes · 3 years

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TASK: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Jessica Desideria Reyes Nickname: Jess Birthdate: 1st July 1992 Age: 28 Zodiac: Cancer Gender: Trans woman Pronouns: She/her Romantic orientation: Biromantic Sexual orientation: Bisexual Nationality: British Ethnicity: Mexican Rank: Power Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: London, England Hometown: London, England Social class: Obscenely wealthy Educational achievements: Studied Media and Communication at the Sorbonne Father: Gaspard Edouard Reyes Mother: Gloria Reyes née Femenias Sibling: Marcus Reyes, 31 Pets: Too many to mention in her youth, ranging from standard poodles to ponies. Now she spoils Alex (Rafael’s dog) and Vincent (Wren’s cat). Previous relationships: Many flings and casual relationships, but only a few long-term ones. Since Jessica is a sentimental person, the latter includes her sweetheart in university, whom she met after her year-long Fling™ with Fazal Khan. Arrests: None Prison time: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: Full-time Marketing Director at Femenias Energy, part-time influencer Dream occupation: A recent dream was to be Editor-in-chief of L’Officiel UK, but something new catches her interest every day—how could she ever choose? Past jobs: Model, both commercial and runway (short-lived). Contributing writer and editor-at-large at different publications. A variety of roles in marketing at various firms before being asked to join Femenias Energy. Spending habits: Because Jessica is spoiled rotten, she spends more generously on friends and family than on herself. She’s far pickier when it comes to clothing, accessories, and other items she’s buying for herself, and, like her mother, leans towards classic styles that can withstand the test of time. In debt?: No

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: Average Speed: Average, even in heels Intelligence: Above average Accuracy: Above average (the problem isn’t accuracy, but will) Agility: Average Stamina: Above average Teamwork: Great at it; growing up among the Femenias cousins taught her how to work well with others, even when personalities and goals differ. She’s also excellent at delegating. Talents: Dancing, making friends, being able to magically spin anything into something positive, getting people to open up to her, emotional intuition, diplomacy Shortcomings: Emotional, spoiled, clingy, possessive, unable to think long-term without guidance Languages spoken: Fluent English, Spanish, and French, and a smattering of other languages that she’s used in her travels and/or to impress people Drive?: Yes, but since she’s chauffeured nearly everywhere, she’s very much out of practice. Jumpstart a car?: She can bat her eyelashes and make someone else do it for her—so yes? (No.) Change a flat tire?: And break a nail? Sweetie. Ride a bicycle?: Yes Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: Yes, she’s an excellent piano player. Play chess?: No Braid hair?: Yes—Kitty and Rafael can attest to this Tie a tie?: Mmmm, yes Pick a lock?: Yes #justgirlythings Cook?: Passably, which she credits to private cooking lessons alongside Rita Zhang with someone who looked remarkably like but was notably not Gordon Ramsay

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS.

Face claim: Zión Moreno Eye color: Brown Hair color: Dark brown, though her hair is naturally black Hair type: Straight / 1b curl type Glasses/contacts?: No Dominant hand: Right Height: 6’0″ / 182cm Build: Slim, without a lot of muscle Exercise habits: Jessica exercises mostly for the social aspect, with her workout regimen consisting of semi-regular yoga and spinning. During her days as an Angel, and in her early years as a Power, she trained in kickboxing and Brazilian jiu jitsu, but has since fallen out of practice. Tattoos: None Piercings: Standard lobe piercings Marks/scars: A smattering of scars from running (and tripping!) around the Femenias estate in her childhood. Some nicks from knife training. Nearly faded scars beneath her breasts, but only romantic partners have seen those. Clothing style: Jessica’s style is classic, sophisticated, and feminine, with her favorite ensembles baring skin in a flirtatious way. At work for Femenias Energy or Famine, she occasionally busts out tailored suits. Forays into daring silhouettes tend to come from her weekend raids of Ravi’s closet. Jewelry: Jessica loves a good pair of statement earrings, leaning towards diamonds, to go along with a wide variety of necklaces, rings, and her classic everyday watch. She has way too much jewelry, at least a third given to her as presents, and tends to be sentimental when it comes to them. Among her favorites is a Graff diamond collier necklace given to her during a 2011 visit to Monaco. Allergies: Cheap jewelry (nickel allergy)

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: ENFP - The Campaigner Enneagram type: Nine - The Peacemaker Moral alignment: True Neutral Element: Water Emotional stability: Low; she tends to be emotional and becomes withdrawn when hurt. Introvert or extrovert?: Extrovert Obsession: The euphoria of romance, new experiences Phobias: Acrophobia (fear of heights), trypophobia Drug use: Prescribed, regularly. Recreational, socially. Alcohol use: Regular, especially wine Prone to violence?: No Prone to crying?: Yes Believe in love at first sight?: No

MANNERISMS.

Accent: Naturally, received pronunciation (RP), but brought her Spanish accent to the forefront for its effect on people. When she speaks in Spanish, she sounds like this. Hobbies: Dancing, clubbing, playing the piano, singing, taking photos, watching musicals and music performances, window shopping Habits: Photographing every meal she has (old habits die hard), her skincare regimen (not that she needs it), late-night window shopping (often followed by impulse buying) Nervous tics: Biting her lip, avoiding eye contact, nervous laughter Drives/motivations: Happiness for both herself and her family Fears: Dying alone Sense of humor?: Jessica’s humor is more kindhearted than it is biting, though it’s much more teasing and pointed when she’s flirting. Do they curse often?: Not often; when she does, it’s out of shock rather than anger.

FAVORITES.

Animal: Dogs Beverage: Red wine Book: Jessica isn’t an avid reader, but her current favorite is Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel. Colors: Pink, white Food: She’s a sucker for discovering new dishes through dégustation paired with wine. Her favorite cuisines are Spanish, French, and Japanese. Flower: Peonies, roses Gem: Diamond Mode of transportation: Anything luxurious and chauffeured Scent: Her current partner. As for her personal scent, it varies depending on the season, and currently is Jo Malone’s Peony & Blush Suede cologne. Weather: Sunny with a cool breeze Vacation destination: Anyplace warm, such as St. Tropez, Ibiza, or the Maldives

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Falling in love and staying in love Greatest fear: Losing someone she cares about, especially family Most at ease when: arm in arm with someone she cares about, flirting Least at ease when: her role is unclear, feeling useless Biggest achievement: Her promotion to Power; though it was never in doubt, officially becoming a part of the family business made her feel like she was sharing something with her cousins. Biggest regret: She tries not to think too hard about this.

ADDITIONAL.

Jessica loves you. Yes, you. <3

#jessica's favorites have changed a bit from the first time i made a favorites list!!! i learn new things about her every day uwu #task #jessica edit #lovely psd from becky as usual!

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 years

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MvA Ocs

I shall share my Monsters vs Aliens ocs. One or two are older general ocs that I’ve reworked for this universe.

Mercy Vivas/”La Bruja” - A nervous wedding dress seamstress who accidentally tapped into her family’s dark magic past. Has phenomenal magical powers but no knowledge to how to use it. Her cell is lined with sticky notes of what she’s learned through trial-and-error. Mexican hispanic, with dark skin and brown eyes, dyed green hair (bob-cut, in bun when working), and is fairly short at 5ft. Wears overalls and tailors smocks normally, but has purple “witchy” clothing for missions or experimenting. Conflicts a bit with Dr Cockroach due to their views on science vs magic. Has big stupid crush on a certain giant lady.

Radu/”Bat Vampire” - The unfortunate result of a vampire getting desperate enough to try eating local bats. Radu was a juvenile microbat who bit his attacker back after it had drained his mother, and gained vampirism in turn. Instead of turning into a human-like vampire however, Radu is transformed into... a weird looking bat child. Looks like a humanoid bat about the size of a small dog and has *Very* fluffy black fur that conceals his eyes. Uses feet like hands as he lacks traditional arms. Radu was discovered in Hungary after he was caught eating out of trash bins. Requires a iron-rich diet to stay healthy, and terrifies Dr Cockroach when he initally tried eating him. Capable of flight and echolocation. Is pretty much a toddler in age, and doesn’t understand what happened to him. Imprints on Link as his caretaker.

Dara O’Ryan/”Scarecreep” - A lesson in why you should never leave family behind when emigrating. “Dara” was one of the sole possessions of the O’Ryan family during the Great Hunger of Ireland. Dara was created to terrfiy both birds and other starving people from the family’s meagre crops. By placing their hopes and dreams into the sack of straw, they breathed life into it. Unfortunately once the rent got too high; the O’Ryan’s skipped town, moved to Australia, and dropped the “O” in Ryan into the ocean. Dara waited for centuries for their family to return, forever standing watch over the rotting field and crumbling hut. Was detected sometime after when developers in the area starting reporting about a “mad farmer” chasing them off the property with a pitchfork and destroying machinery. Area 5X had a difficult time capturing Dara, as they feel no pain and filled their body with stinging nettles. Was eventually detained after Susan sat him down for a peaceful talk. Is roughly the height of a person, made from scrap cloth, with eyes painted on. Mouth has been cut open across the face and is full of stuck needles. Wears clothes typical of a farmhand, and has a number of twine wigs they use to accessorise. Eats pests like rats and birds like a snake, although no one is sure how they digest. Unironically terrifying.

Hazuki Minamoto/”Blond Widow” - A Jorōgumo that let himself be caught by Area 5X. Has a long list of crimes under his belt and was wanted for a number of high-profile murders/eatings of japanese public officials. By letting himself be caught by American forces, he essentially claims sanctuary in the states. Top half is a beautiful androgynous young man with blond hair and purple eyes, bottom half is a giant Trichonephila clavata abdomen. About seven feet tall counting the spider half. Has the abilities of a spider (web-spinning, climbing walls, venom etc), with the wit and scheming of someone who’s been alive since the Heian period. Very vain and particular. No one is truly sure what his angle is, as he doesn’t seem to be targetting anyone for a meal. Best that Monger keep an eye on him...

Feel free to ask more about them, or send me your own MvA ocs! I may have apart two of alien characters I’d like to introduce into the world

#monsters vs aliens #mva #my ocs #long post

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Mob!Tom Holland - Fawn (10)

I know this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but I have just finished it! This is coming to an end, there will be one or two chapters more plus the epilogue. Hope you enjoy it!

This is inspired by Don’t play with fire , @peaceisadirtyword. It’s an amazing Ivar fic, take a look if you have time! Previous parts in the general summary. Click here to read the previous parts!

Plot: the Holland’s house has been your home for more than a month. And if you thought things couldn’t get better, a game night is going to prove you wrong.

You weren’t sure what your dream was about anymore, just that it didn’t include anything wet or sticky touching your left upper arm. The feeling was too real to allow you stay in dreamland, so you willed yourself out of the foggy state of mind that came in the mornings. Whatever was touching you kept doing it even when you tried to bat it away with a lazy hand, only becoming more persistent.

Finally, you opened one eye and were met with the blue staffy that had become a part of your life for the last month and a half. Tessa seemed to know you were awake finally, and she propped up in the bed and rubbed her head against your side.

“You’re so annoying” you mumbled, but raised your hand to pet her head anyway. She let out a small bark and started moving her tail, happy to have attention.

You risked a glance at the clock on the nightstand, but you already knew it was too early. The red numbers blinked, showing you that 6:45 that had become a ritual since you moved to Tom’s house. Still, you couldn’t be mad at Tessa, who had probably waited outside the door until the sun was up.

The dog was the most benefited in the Holland’s house from your stay there, because that meant there was someone in the mornings that could pay attention to her. Tom and the twins, having already learnt the hard way that she liked to sneak into their bedrooms, locked their doors when they returned from the club. And you would have done it too, but after doing it once and discovering her sitting miserably behind it, you decided it didn’t hurt so much.

“Have you slept good?” you smiled when she turned her head to look at you. “Mh, I guess there hadn’t been any squirrels to chase away tonight”

Patting her in the back, she leaped out of your bed and skipped towards the door, waiting for you. While you got changed and made the bed, you thought about how your life had changed since you told Tom about Richard.

It wasn’t a topic that was brought up often in the house, but no one could ignore how you lived there since. Tom hadn’t done anything, or at least that was what he told you, after you had made him promise that you would let it that way. If not, you were afraid Richard would do something to hurt the Hollands. So, in exchange, Tom made you promise that you would stay with him at least for a week; then, when everything was calmer, you would talk about going back to your house.

Only that a week turned into two, and now you were reaching month and a half and you hadn’t returned. Harry took you to your work place or your drove yourself, then Tom picked you up and you had dinner with the whole family, between harmless pranks and laughs. Sam was slowly accepting your presence there, and even Elysia had smiled at you. You didn’t have to walk on eggshells and prove anything to them, and you were happier than ever.

But without any doubt, the best part of it were the special mornings like that one.

“Hey” you announced yourself when you walked into the kitchen, your stomach doing backflips at the sight. “What are you doing up so early?”

Tom looked up at your voice and gave you a sleepy smile behind his cup, before sipping on it. He was sitting in the kitchen counter, with a mysterious mug and some eggs. There were some papers on the desk; another thing you had learnt, that even if they were none of your business, no one would yell at you for looking at some papers. Tessa traded you for him and ran towards Tom, attracted by the smell of food.

“I have some stuff to take care of” Tom explained, yawning. “I haven’t slept anything, coffee is the only thing running through my veins”

“That can’t be too healthy” you chuckled, reaching for your own mug, that Tom had given you to cheer you the second day after moving, and that had a Bambi draw in the middle. “And the twins?”

“Harry is out there whoring himself with Lisa, and I know better than to wake up Sam in the mornings” Tom placed his hand on Tessa’s head and gave her a carrot that you hadn’t seen before. “Tessa woke you?”

“I have to present a project today, so I would have woken up at seven anyway” you shuddered, serving yourself coffee.

“You’re too good on her, fawn. I give you two weeks more before you start locking the door”

You rolled your eyes and sat beside him, ignoring all the free seats, and choosing the one on his right. You would have felt anxious about your decision before, but Tom had made it clear that he liked having you close. He even wrapped his arm around you waist and, gripping the stool, pulled you closer.

A plate with some scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon and some carrots appeared in front of you. You turned to look at Tom, who had a small smirk while feeding Tessa under the desk.

“You made me breakfast?”

“Figured I could treat you since I was up already” he shrugged, his attempt to sound as if it was nothing not matching his reddened cheeks.

Chuckling, you leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. Affection was a topic you had worked exhaustively with Tom. You weren’t sure if it was because you finally had met someone who treated you right, because now that you weren’t with Richard you could finally be more open with him, or because the constant teasing from Lisa. Either way, you kissing Tom’s cheek or him pulling you close when you were sitting on the sofa was something normal.

Both of you thought about the nearly-kiss of the changing room, that felt like ages ago. And sometimes, you would find yourself inches away from his lips, almost kissing him; but then something or someone would interrupt you and there went another moment with him.

The scene was so casual that felt like home. You and Tom ate your breakfast with the occasional conversation, about the things he had to do and your work. He told you about his intention to start investing in a line of restaurants with Dom and Sam, and that he needed to find some decent locals.

Tom offered to take you to your workplace when you finished, and you didn’t pass an opportunity to spend more time with him.

“We’re doing another game night, but just us, Harrison and Twain” he explained as he drove through the city. Watching him drive, concentrated and with his jaw clenched, was one of your favourite things to do.

“There is not club?”

“Closed for maintenance” Tom sneaked a glance at you, and smiled. “That, and I wanted a family night, you know? It’s been too long since I beat you at something”

“I hope you’re prepared to take that back”

Tom chuckled as you punched him jokingly on his upper arm. Then, for a second, turned to look at you with a silly smile, and you were sure you could risk a car accident if it meant crashing into him and whipping his smile with a kiss. Instead of putting at risk the whole street, you poked your tongue at him.

It was a simple game – something Tom had gotten from his Mexican friend on his last deal, and you hadn’t expected it to be a bingo. Sure, it was in Spanish and it was a bit differed from the numbered cardboards, but still you thought you had it handled when Harry had started giving out the cards.

You hadn’t been paying much attention, because Tom was sitting beside you and you two were in your own world, completely ignoring the twins in favour of the curly haired boy. That was why you probably missed Harry messing with the cards so that your words were the hardest to guess; and while you counted with the occasional help from Tom, who sneaked a hand to point to the correct pic every now and then, you were losing.

The dynamic was simple; you have a card with a bunch of pics, and just as in bingo, someone takes another card, a word, from a bowl. Not only you have to pay attention to win, but you also have to have a minimal knowledge in Spanish. Which, you didn’t have.

“La dama” Sam announced, and you ran to look to a girl with a dress. To make the game a little more thrilling, you had four cardboards each one. You covered with a red circle the lady with the blue dress.

“Is it a girl? Or a boy?” Harry asked, looking briefly to the small timer that signalled eight seconds for every word.

“It’s the shoe” Harrison said without looking up.

“Loteria!” Harry screamed, looking at his finished cardboard and raising his hands in the air.

Indeed, Harry put the red circle on it and you had to swallow down a smile when you saw his proud smirk. Tom, whose arm was around your waist, didn’t hold back when the timer hit zero, and let out a loud laugh. The boys laughed behind him and Harry just looked at them, not sure why they were laughing and not mad at him winning. As his last resource, he looked at you with furrowed brows.

“It was the girl, Harry” you told him, watching as his face fell. “You know what happens now…”

“Earthquake!”

Harrison, Twain and Sam threw themselves at Harry while he tried to cover the carboard from prying hands. There had been a rule from the begging; if you got a word wrong, you had to take all your red circles from your cardboard and start again. It was the second time that happened to Harry, who kept screaming that Harrison had cheated while his tokens fell to the ground one by one.

The game, that had seemed simple at the beginning, had turned out to be pure gold. When you played with the boys, everything turned out to be funny. You had been playing for a few hours, and the clock had tickled midnight already. It was way past midnight already, and you felt the exhaustion from your work day creeping out on you. Instead of going to bed like anyone would have done, you didn’t resist the urge of leaning to the side.

Since you were sitting in a couch and playing in the coffee table, Tom and you didn’t have any barriers in between. You landed on his side and the mob leader nuzzled his head against your neck, pressing there his lips as if it was the normal thing to do. His arm, that was around your waist, pulled you closer to his side, and you almost closed your eyes.

The boys kept arguing in the background until you almost dozed off, and Tom talked.

“Y/N and I are going to bed while you guys kill each other” Tom announced as he pushed himself up and offered you a hand. “Don’t stain the carpet with –“

Tom was interrupted by a loud crash when Harry’s chair fell to the ground, followed by three bodies and his carboard. Before any of them could include you into an argument about the game, Tom leaded you by your hand to the shared hallway, where the lights were still out. Tessa looked up at you when you passed through her bed, but didn’t make any attempt to follow you. She dropped her head back and closed her eyes.

The hallway was far away from the living room so that you couldn’t hear them, and when you closed the door, you could have forgotten there were more people in the house.

You walked hand in hand through the wide space, not saying anything but not tearing apart. Even if there was enough space for you to fit, you two where pressed together. Your room came first, and he was the one stopping. Tom didn’t keep walking though, just leaned against the wall next to the door and smiled.

“I could get used to this” he said, looking at you in the dark.

“To playing to La Loteria?” you asked and chuckled. “It was fun, yeah”

“It wasn’t bad” he shrugged. “But I was talking more about you sitting in your pyjamas in the couch and leaning against me”

When Tom had offered you going to his house for the first one, there had been a confession that had stayed unspoken, and you had liked it that way. No matter how many times he assured you that he wasn’t angry because what had happened with Richard, or Sam had joked in the kitchen while making lunch with you. You still felt an outsider, and you weren’t sure if you were the best for Tom.

Your feelings, however, worked on their own. Whenever Tom said something like that them started doing mortal jumps on your chest, screaming so loud that you forgot any other rational thoughts you could have had. And that night was no different, in front of the door of your room with slippers and pyjamas.

“I was thinking” he talked again, and shifted without letting go of your hand. “We could – make this official”

“W-what?” you tried to think what he was talking about; because he was referring to you acting according to your feelings, you were ready to run downstairs again.

“The moving thing” Tom tried to look into your eyes for any kind of affirmation. “You know, bringing more stuff of your house here. Maybe buying a few nice things for your room. Do… you want that?”

Would you like waking up in the house as Tom every day, without wondering at night when was the appropriate time to leave? Or if you would like to participate in the game nights as a family and have him as close to you as possible? Both answers were positive, you were sure. You didn’t feel like that rented house with so many bad memories was ‘home’ anymore.

“What about Richard?’” you asked instead of just nodding.

“What about – what?” Tom’s grip weakened. “What’s with him?”

“I mean, wouldn’t we, like – I mean, me… call his attention? I haven’t been, there. He could be –“

“That man isn’t going to breath the same air you’re for a long time, fawn”

You gave him some kind of grimace that intended to be a smile. You had heard about the police’s chief – that had been mysteriously dismissed to a patrolling agent and had appeared beaten to a pulp a week after the incident, when you had broken down to Tom about all you had kept inside.

“So?” Tom pressed anxiously. “Will you? Because if you say no, I’m not kicking you out or anything. I just – I really like you being here, so I want to make things official”

“I really like being here” you assured him. “So I guess, that makes the guest bedroom my door?”

“And it gives you the right to lock it and avoid Tessa’s love in the mornings”

You chuckled and fell into a comfortable silence. Even though they were just a few belongings, it felt like a huge step, no matter that you had been living there for more than a month. Someone yelled from the living room and you wondered if they even knew you weren’t there anymore. You hadn’t missed the accomplice looks in the boys and Tom whenever you two were together; so probably, if they knew, they didn’t care.

The thing about the hallway was that it was usually fully dark. There were two big windows that lighted it up in the day, and let the moon past at night. But it was moonless night, and you were too busy fangirling over what changes would there be in you living there to notice Tom leaning in. When you looked up, his face was inches away from you.

So close, that your noses touched. You looked into his eyes and blushed at how intense they were, the beautiful warm brown that had amazed you from the first day. Your hands, still linked, didn’t move when Tom turned his head a little so that your noses didn’t touch anymore, but your lips did.

It was so different of what you had met with Richard that you wondered if you had ever kissed him right. Tom was gentle against you, moving them slowly and just letting you know that it was not about anything else but love and care. What you had imagined about discovering one day a little scar on his bottom lip went out of the window, his lips being soft. He tasted like peach, because of the lip balm that he used.

Your hand, that had been dangling on your side, moved on its own accord to the back of his neck and his pulled you closer from your waist. As you melted against him, you thought that, for once, your inner voice was right from the beginning.

Tom Holland wasn’t someone you could forget so easily.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

@galaxystern08

@justifymyfeelings

Tom Holland Fawn taglist:

@averyfosterthoughts

@killerqueenvibes

@spideylovin

@fantastic-fans

@addictofsupernatural

@americaswritings

@itsjusttor

@sunflxwer99

@dramione-winchester-mccall

@nicolettalauren

@coveredinthemessimade

@spideydobik

@runway-to-my-aid

@yeahimcrying

@herondale-snow-carstairs

@softstarkk

@atomicwinneralienhairdo

@watson-emma

@ifntelyinspirit

@himynameis-groot

@harishaanne

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papenniesandbentoboxes · 4 years

Text

Face Reveal!

Yay! I have 100 lovely, wonderful, amazing followers! Thank you all for being so awesome!

As promised, I’m doing a face reveal!

That’s me.

I also promised a chaotic mini biography, so here goes. This is worse than Nigel Mookerjee’s memoirs. Also, his memoirs are iconic and beautiful and I could never compete with him.

(btw by mini i mean mini by nigel mookerjee standards so this is extensive and not mini by normal standards and very chaotic)

When I was born I was very very tiny. I had bright fiery carrot red hair with white around my crown. I was a genetic rarity since there was only one other redhead in my family in the past 100+ years. From the moment I could move my hands I did jazz hands and acted like a game show host instead of being a baby.

Going on to preschool, I remember spending all my time playing with the musical instruments and coloring outside the lines because I hated the strict teacher and then they locked me in the bathroom for five minutes of time out.

I started reading chapter books at 4. When I was 5, my mom borrowed a book called How to Teach Your Child to Read or something like that and I straight up just read that book. I started reading Nancy Drew books when I was 6 and Hardy Boys when I was 8.

When I was eight, I started professionally acting. I played Tiny Tim in the Act Theatre’s A Christmas Carol. I hated the guy who played Bob Cratchit because he was a jerk.

When my sister turned 6, we had a birthday party where my mom and I made her a DIY pinata out of paper mache and an oatmeal box thing. It took an hour to get it open. All the kids tried with the plastic bat and eventually the bat broke. After that, we got an ax handle and used that to hit the pinata. Didn’t work. We eventually had to get a chainsaw and use that. After we got the pinata open, everything was just plastic and candy dust.

I was in team level gymnastics by the age of ten, but I never competed because my mom and I weren’t gonna pay $100 for a leo, tshirt, and flipflops. I was in level 5 gymnastics when I quit.

I was homeschooled in the Pacific Northwest (where it is wet and grey 97% of the time) and moved to the high desert areas of Washington when I was 13. It is very hot and I hate heat. If anyone tells me this part of Washington isn’t a desert, I will show thou pictures of the natural vegetation with is DIRT, SAGEBRUSH, and FRICKIN TUMBLEWEEDS.

I’ve never gotten carsick in my life, but both my dogs do and they have both thrown up on my lap on three separate occasions.

In my freshman year winter break, I came back to school in January sunburned.

When I was 14, my sister and I joined a circus. A youth circus, but still, a circus. The other kids were like, “You’re first years, you’ll only be clowns in your first year.” So, being me, I rebelled and proved them wrong, getting into 6 acts my first year. Suck it, haters. My main acts that I did were spansets (it’s an obscure circus act), Roman ladders, tumbling, swinging ladders, and tight wire (low wire without the poles). I eventually became a ringmistress and got to wear a really neat red and gold tail coat and a top hat. I had to quit circus after a knee injury from falling off of low wire and then making it 10x worse after my tumbling act.

The fabric on my spansets feels like if cheese graters were a fabric. It has ripped off my skin and I hate it.

My favorite person at circus taught me how to do a back flip through Newton’s First Law of physics.

When I was 18, I won 3rd place in the mezzo soprano category at State for vocal stuff. After I collected my medal, my choir teacher and her husband (the vice principal at my highschool) took my mom and I to eat Mexican food. The waiter there flirted with me and because I lack all social skills, I said, “Yike, buddy, I really like this cheese.” My mother, my choir teacher, and her husband laughed hard about that.

I sing opera, gospel, jazz, musical theater, and country. Because I was bored, at the beginning of quarantine, I got dressed up in my Legolas costume and sang “Kerosine” by Miranda Lambert in my front yard with my giant karaoke machine speaker.

When I was in Les Mis, I played Fantine and at the end when I was standing on top of the barricade, the lights would go black and then we’d have to go off stage to get ready for bows. I fell off the barricade more than one time. I was also a barricade boy so I got to die twice in the same show. I wore giant sideburns and a black wig and I was A MANLY MAN.

I played Scuttle in The Little Mermaid and nearly got killed because I rammed my head into a speaker and then fell off the stage and into the side door. It was fun.

My first roller coaster was the Incredicoaster in Disneyland.

After my first crush and heartbreak, I got over that stupid ass guy by going rock climbing, repelling, and white water rafting. If you ever want to get over a guy, just do something that could potentially kill you without safety gear.

I got nicknamed Buffy by one of my college roommates because I have arms not unlike Thor’s. I like the nickname, hate the person who gave it to me. She was an asshole and made my depression worse.

I was diagnosed with autism when I was 19 (just this February) and it was like watching a TV show with a twist ending and then looking back at all the foreshadowing in all 19 seasons of this weird TV show.

I’m allergic to cashews and we found out the hard way.

I lack most social skills unless I am in a professional setting and then I turn into a weird charmer.

I can gargle “What A Wonderful World” and “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

I won my church’s Star Wars trivia night and won a nice basket of Star Wars stuff. I also won my library’s Star Wars trivia night. No one else knew what Boba Fett’s ship’s name was.

This is my sister and I at circus. I was a ringmistress that day and she was Lead Clown, Do-See-Do. I did her makeup.

So that’s me. This is the face behind all the memes.

Stay rad, dudes. Yeet.

#clue crew #it's meeeee #face reveal #clue crew face reveal #i frickin love memes #one time when i was in the musical Oliver! there was this one boy who kept annoying me so i took my prop bowl and broke it on his head #i also used to be able to do a perfect gollum impression before my voice kinda changed #it was depressing #i read les mis and i am not a fan of the parisian sewer systems #my dogs are weird #one is a catahoula and one is a rat-chi #they're both psycho #one more than the other #my sister knows every single lyric to toxic by britney spears #and when i told her about my joe headcanon she recited the entire song to me #i was like #i didn't know you knew that song #she was like #of course i know that song #i mean #idk anymore #one time at college it was karaoke night and i sang girlfriend by avril lavigne #the sk8er boi #then teenagers by mcr #then welcome to the black parade #everyone was surprised i knew emo music #bruh #i don't look emo but i am on the inside #my best friend is 10x more emo than me

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seeaddywrite · 4 years

Text

slaughter in swan lake

for @christchex, who had the brilliant idea of Liz being a huge fan of a certain mystery series, & realizing Max wrote them when they move in together. if you’ve got echo prompts, feel free to send ‘em my way.

a couple of notes: sasha jiminez is the name on Liz’s fake ID in the flashbacks from right before rosa’s death. liz says she’s a dancer. also, cunningham is a random last name i picked as ann evans’ maiden name.

"You do realize I’ve successfully moved all of my own stuff across the country twice now, right?” Liz calls acerbically, watching as Max lifts a stack of boxes from the bed of Michael’s borrowed truck and starts toward the back entrance of his house. “I think I can handle carrying a few boxes on my own!”

She’s seated on the patio, cheek leaning against her palm, as she watches. Max had insisted Liz take a seat as soon as they’d pulled up at his house, and had taken her shoulders to redirect her back to this spot every time she got up to try and help. He’d already carried more than half of the boxes from her room above the Crashdown into his -- their -- house on his own, and at this point, Liz has pretty much given up any hope that he’ll let her help.

“I told you,” he calls back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of a hand before reaching for the next box. “I’ve got it. You just relax.”

“You’d better be careful, Max,” Liz calls back, her smile wide and showcasing all of the joy and contentment she feels in that moment. She’s moving in with Max today. Officially. Only a few weeks after Rosa’s teasing comments about deserving her own room had blossomed into a real, adult conversation that ended in, “The idea of waking up next to you every day is the best thing I can imagine, Liz. Let’s do it. Move in with me,” and a resounding, “Yes!”

It’s crazy, it’s too fast, and a million other things that probably mean she should stop and think, but Liz is tired of over-analyzing every moment of her life. Being with Max is the first thing that’s felt right, and she’s done running from it. “If you keep treating me this way, I’m going to start expecting it! Today you carry all the boxes, tomorrow you move all the furniture to make room ... the next thing you know, you’ll be bringing me breakfast in bed and carrying me everywhere on a litter or something.”

Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but Liz recognizes the pleased glint in their depths. It’s been there every time she’s mentioned living together, every time she’s referenced the two of them sharing time and space permanently. And that’s how Liz knows she’s made the right decision. Easily.

“Oh, come on, let him play macho man for a while,” Isobel insists, rejoining Liz on the patio with two glasses of white wine. She settles herself into the opposite patio chair and hands one of the glasses to Liz. “It’s not like moving boxes is going to hurt him if his heart can take the sort of athletics you two have doing in the bedroom, after all.”

The sly smirk stops Liz from glaring at Isobel; she’d like getting a rise out of Liz way too much, and Liz refuses to give her the satisfaction. So instead, she just shrugs, a smirk of her own playing across her lips. “True. And he does look damn good all hot and sweaty, doesn’t he?” she asks, batting her eyelashes dramatically until Isobel’s expression twists to one of disgust.

“Okay, okay, you two,” Max interrupts, a bemused grin on his heat-flushed face that makes something flutter in Liz’s abdomen. He loves that Isobel and Liz are friends now, she knows -- it appeals to the strong desire for family that he’s always had, and it makes Liz happy to know that she can give him that, even if Isobel still drives her absolutely insane, some days. “Could you stop discussing my sex life and open the door for me, maybe?” There’s several boxes stacked in his arms, the one on top balanced precariously. Liz stands and opens the door, letting Max go through -- but that box scrapes the top of the door frame and tumbles from the pile, striking the ground with a loud thud.

“Sorry!” Max says immediately, setting the rest of his burden down to kneel and start gathering the spilled contents.

Liz only chuckles and joins him; the box was obviously full of books, which weren’t likely to be harmed in a fall. “That’s what you get for not letting me help,” she teases, dropping a hand to the back of his neck to squeeze gently. Max turns his head to brush a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist -- then freezes, lips still pressed against Liz’s skin, as wide eyes stare in Isobel’s direction.

“Oh my god,” Isobel chokes, and Liz turns hurriedly to see what’s causing such a dramatic reaction from both of them. In one perfectly manicured hand, Isobel holding an obviously well-loved paperback. The spine is cracked and worn, and the cover is dog-eared and nearly torn in one corner. Liz recognizes it immediately from all of the rough nights in Denver when she’d lost herself in its pages. She snags it from Isobel’s grip a little defensively, and drags it back in against her chest.

“What?” Liz demands. “I like mystery novels, so? Like I didn’t walk in on you reading a Harlequin romance novel last weekend?” She’ll admit, her favorite mystery series isn’t exactly cerebral, but the novels got her out of her head and pulled into a world where every problem was solved and tied off in a bow by the end of it, which, considering Liz’s life, had sounded pretty damn good. The author is funny, and wrote in a way that made Liz want to hide in the words and turns of phrase for as long as she could -- which is why all three books in the series bear the marks of being read and reread during several long years of Denver living.

Green eyes dart from the cover of the book to Liz’s face, then to Max’s wide eyes, and Isobel bursts into laughter hard enough to make her curl forward, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god,” she repeats, still cackling, while Max inexplicably buries his face in his hands. “Slaughter in Swan Lake? In which a beautiful, brainy, Latina dancer solves a murder with the help of a handsome, heroic Sheriff’s deputy in a small town?”

Liz blinks. “Yes? You’ve read them?”

Max groans from the other side of the box as Isobel guffaws, waving the paperback around in the air. “Oh, come on Ortecho, you’re smarter than this! A Sheriff’s Deputy in a small town? A Latina heroine who dances professionally and uses science to solve mysteries in her free time? Written by M.E. Cunningham?”

“Isobel, didn’t you say you needed to meet Mom this afternoon? You should probably get going,” Max interjects, and when Liz turns to look at him, she’s bemused to find that the tips of his ears are red. “Liz and I can take the moving from here.”

But Liz’s mind is already working, putting together the clues that Isobel had so helpfully laid out in front of her. “Wait a minute,” she says, turning an incredulous stare on the book still in Isobel’s grasp. “Are you saying Max wrote those books?” She doesn’t wait for an answer before turning to the man she was about to move in with -- the man from whom she’d long ago thought she’d extracted all secrets. “Max Evans, is your sister trying to tell me that you’re the author of my favorite books?”

Max rubs the back of his neck with one hand awkwardly, looking away. “I need to give you some better things to read if those are your favorite books,” he mutters, and that is definitely not a ‘no.’ He finishes shoving the rest of the box contents back inside and stands up, long legs carrying him swiftly into the house before Liz can ask anymore questions.

She casts an incredulously look at Isobel, who only grins back and lounges against the side of the house, unconcerned. Liz snorts and hurries after Max, hands on her hips. “You do realize there’s no way you’re getting out of explaining yourself, right?” Liz says, once she’s cornered him in the library, where Max is sliding her book collection onto the shelves with his own, far more extensive one. The mystery series, she notes, are still in the bottom of the box, ignored. “Why wouldn’t you tell me you’d already published something? And why were you still working as a deputy when you actually are a writer, like you always wanted?”

Max snorts, and glares down at the battered paperbacks. “Those are not what I want to be known for writing,” he explains firmly. “It’s why they’re under a penname --” he glances at Liz and sees the question in her face. “Cunningham is my mother’s maiden name. And M.E --”

“Yeah, I think I can figure that one out on my own,” Liz cuts him off dryly, and grabs both of Max’s hands before he can try to busy himself with another task or walk out of the room on the pretense of getting more boxes to upack. “Come on, Max. Why didn’t you say anything? We’ve talked about your writing before. That seems like it would have been a perfect time to mention this.” Liz isn’t angry, but it is a little jarring to learn that Max still has secrets from, even now. Especially about something that she would have loved to celebrate with him. Becoming a published author with the amount of fans the Dancing and Death series has? That’s a big deal. Why wouldn’t Max want to share it?

There’s a moment of silence, and Liz starts to wonder if Max is going to answer her question. He leans back against his desk, his fingers toying with hers absent-mindedly as he gazes around the room, hopefully working to collect his thoughts for a response. “I wrote the first book about three months after you left town,” he says finally. “Michael hated my guts, Isobel had just met Noah -- and I really, really missed you.”

Liz thinks of the brilliant main character, of her Mexican roots and her love of science despite her career in the performing arts. The thought that the woman who Liz had empathized with, had laughed and cried with, is based on her makes an odd rush of warmth flood her chest. “So you created Sasha Jiminez?” she asks, naming the heroine with an affection smile tilting her lips.

Max nods, sighing. “Sasha. And Todd,” he agrees, looking at her sideways. Liz can’t help but laugh at that -- the lovable Sheriff’s Deputy who spends the entire book looking after Valeria while she solves his cases is pretty obviously based on another small town hero she knows pretty damn well. “I never meant for anyone else to read it, but my mom caught me writing late one night, and somehow, one of her friends in the city ended up with a copy ... and the next thing I knew, I was looking at a publishing contract.” Max shakes his head, looking a bit bewildered, even now. “It’s embarrassing. It’s not even good literature. I wrote it to make myself feel better, and I knew I couldn’t sign my real name to any of it. Not without everyone in town realizing exactly how embarrassing it was.”

Glancing down at the book again, Liz considers her words for a moment, then leans in to rest her head against Max’s chest. His arms enfold her automatically, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and she takes another moment to thank whatever -- or whoever -- might be out there that this man had never given up on her.

“You told me when we were kids,” she starts, still pressed against his chest. “That you just wanted to write books people could get lost in.” The memory evokes others of dancing on that mountaintop, their almost-kiss and the sweet, too-short bliss of believing that when she left Roswell, Max Evans would follow her. The persona she’d given him that day of a dancer with a fake name had come alive in his mind when Liz herself was long gone, and though Liz isn’t a romantic, she couldn’t help but feel a little weak-kneed in the face of such devotion.

“Those books ... God, Max, I must have read all three a hundred times while I was in college, and in grad school. I lost myself in them over and over, and they made the real world a little more bearable. I didn’t have to think about Papi, or Rosa, or whatever stupid project or assignment was stressing me out. I love those books, Max. And knowing that you wrote them? That the people in those pages are really us?” She grins, and leans up on tip-toe to press her smile against Max’s lips. “It makes me love them even more. It’s like you followed me after all, in some ways. Or like I never left, because you had a huge part of me in your head while you were writing.”

Max brushes his lips against the crown of Liz’s head. “Not in my head,” he says quietly. “My heart. Always.”

The words still bring a flush to the tips of Liz’s ears, even now, when she’s confident in the love Max has for her -- and that she has for him. They’re moving in together, planning a future and a live as a unit, and still, hearing the romantic proclamations he loves to throw her way make her blush like an awkard teenager.

“Even better,” Liz responds, and kisses him one more time, allowing herself to linger a little before she pulls away to finish unpacking the box at their feet. She puts the mystery series on the top shelf, displayed proudly for all to see, worn-out covers and all.

Max glances at them uncertainly, and Liz wonders if her paperbacks will disappear mysteriously in the coming days -- but they’re still there, watching over Liz and Max three months later when he gets down on one knee. He never finishes the series, but Liz likes to think that Sasha and Todd are as happy in their world as she and Max are in the real one.

#my fic #rnm fic #echo rnm #roswell new mexico fic

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leviblum · 3 years

Photo

↪ brief introduction to levi blum.

BASICS

full name: levi aksel blum. nickname(s): lev. age: twenty-nine. date of birth: 15 september 1992. zodiac sign: virgo. place of birth: san diego, california, united states. ethnicity: white, ashkenazi jewish. nationality: american. gender: cis male. sexual orientation: pansexual. romantic orientation: panromantic. religion: levi grew up practicing judaism alongside his family and though he doesn’t practice as strictly as he did when he was younger he still tries to attend temple as often as he can, tries to keep a kosher diet, etc. education: bachelor’s of fine arts in photography from the university of southern california. occupation: he’s a professional surfer though he’s taking a break from the sport while he recovers from an injury; to make money outside of that he’s a freelance photographer. language(s) spoken: english, hebrew, yiddish. accent: he definitely has what people might consider to be a “stereotypical” southern california accent– of the sort that surfers have on television but if you asked him he’d be fairly adamant that he doesn’t have an accent at all.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: logan lerman. hair color: dark brown. eye color: blue. height: 5′9″. weight: 159 lbs. build: athletic. tattoos: he has an ocean themed sleeve on his left arm ( here ) & a tattoo on his chest of a cresting wave ( here ). piercings: he has a septum piercing and two lobe piercings in his left ear. distinguishing characteristics: people tend to comment on his sleeve tattoo when he can wear clothes that show it off, his demeanor – he’s a relatively mellow person, how passionate he is about his work.

PERSONALITY

label: the thalassophile. positive traits: adventurous, affectionate, ambitious, compassionate, confident, creative, easy-going, empathetic, fearless, genuine, loyal, passionate, persistent, quick-witted, relaxed, sincere, thoughtful. negative traits: boastful, flippant, gullible, impatient, impulsive, irresponsible, jealous, opinionated, petty, possessive, sarcastic, shameless, stubborn. goals/desires: to recover from his injury and get back to surfing, to make the best of the time he’s in providence peak, to be open to any new experiences life throws at him. fears: that surfing won’t ever be the same after his injury, that he’ll never feel fulfilled doing anything else when his surfing career is over. hobbies: screwing around editing in photoshop, listening to podcasts, skateboarding, hanging out with his dog, playing guitar, watching foreign films, watching old american films, going to temple, facetiming with his sisters, going out with his friends, drinking, surfing, learning new photography skills, people watching, sex, scrolling through dating apps when he’s bored, collecting skateboard decks, cooking, going to the beach, swimming, traveling, finding creative ways to keep a kosher diet, smoking pot. quirks: he talks with his hands when he’s excited about something, he’ll invariably mention surfing at least once in any given conversation without thinking about it, he always seems to have some top 40 song or another stuck in his head, he chews on his fingernails when he’s anxious, he always seems just a little too relaxed in any given situation. likes: visiting places he’s never been before, doing tourist-y stuff in new cities, meeting new people, talking about surfing, skateboarding, spending time with friends, dad jokes, hanging out with his cousin, good beer / good alcohol in general, mexican food, coffee, watching nature documentaries, true crime podcasts, cheesy action movies, foreign films, old hollywood films, the beach, adrenaline highs, sex, people he can be totally relaxed around. dislikes: dealing with shitty people, anyone who wants to talk shit on what he’s chosen to do with his life, not being able to surf, physical therapy, missing temple, being away from the water for long periods of time, wine, anti-semites, not seeing his family for most lengths of time, bad pot.

FAMILY

father: gabriel isaak blum. mother: astrid marie blum ( née bronson ). sibling(s): abigail, hannah & naomi blum. pet(s): he has a six month old husky puppy named kelly ( after kelly slater ). financial status: upper middle class.

BIOGRAPHY

When Astrid Bronson and Gabriel Blum met on a sunny afternoon in Los Angeles it seemed even to the friends who’d introduced them that something in the universe that had longed to settle down had finally clicked into place. Their backgrounds were wildly different– Astrid having grown up in Hollywood with family who had been involved in the both the entertainment industry on one side and the media in general on the other; and Gabriel hailing from a small community in the Sierra Nevada’s that had never been home to more than three hundred people during the length of his life there and still managed to be one of the most wonderful, accepting places he’d ever known. In Gavin’s mind it had been a waste of his first two weeks at UCLA to not have met Astrid any sooner than he’d managed to and it seemed to him to be a stroke of luck of the highest sort that Astrid was just as smitten with him as he was with her– to their friends it seemed that there wasn’t a more perfect match in the world for either of them and when they started dating no one batted an eye. By the time their respective degree programs were drawing to a close they were engaged and Astrid was pregnant with their first child— leaving behind the sprawling city for the suburbs of San Diego where they hoped to raise their family in an environment that would be well suited to anything their children might want to do with their lives.

In the end it would be the third Blum child who developed such an intense fascination with the ocean that Astrid and Gabriel made it a point to allow him to pursue any and all water based activities he wanted as he grew up and proved to be precocious and headstrong and passionate in all the same ways his parents were and then some. Levi, ultimately the only son the Blum’s would have out of their four children, was borderline obsessed with visiting the seaside whenever he could– begging his parents to take them on weekend trips as often as possible and, when he was seven, begging his uncle to teach him how to surf– something he’d wanted to do since he was a small child. Everything in his life seemed to click when he was on the water and Levi quickly developed a love for surfing that, to hear his family tell it, was matched only by the natural talent he seemed to possess for the sport. He spent endless hours surfing in La Jolla with his friends as he got older and though he was an equally gifted student he’d made it clear to his parents that surfing was all he wanted to do with his life and by the time he was fourteen he was competing in tournaments all over the world with his parents wholehearted support.

Levi finished school online to earn his GED at the age of sixteen and from that moment on threw all of his attention into competing– he racked up sponsors, magazine covers, and even at the junior level was expected to be a credit to the sport all around when he finally made it to the majors to surf with people he’d admired since he was a small child. It was only after a long conversation with his parents that he considered pursuing anything resembling a college degree after he’d been gifted a camera to honor his first tournament in the pros when he aged out of the juniors bracket. He wasn’t wholly convinced he could manage a full degree almost entirely remotely but after considerable conversation with professors in schools in California he’d considered attending, he enrolled at USC with the intention of earning his degree in photography while he continued to compete professionally. It was difficult on his best days but when he walked the stage to graduate four years later with a degree in something he was just as passionate about as surfing, well, Levi wasn’t sure he’d ever done anything in the world that made him prouder.

As the years passed Levi’s skill and passion for his career in surfing earned him a small handful of victories in major tournaments and even more in major opens and it seemed to him that nothing in his life could ever be better– at least until he blew out his knee in a tournament and found a season ending injury staring him in the face. It was devastating to him in more ways than he could count and rather than return to his home in San Diego he made the decision to seek out a place to live in Providence Peak at the behest of his cousin who had lived there for several years. There was no surfing to be done there but Levi hoped it would make it easier for him to focus on his rehab if there was nothing for him to do to exacerbate his injury– since his move to Providence Peak he has had surgery and is recovering from his injury, working as a photographer to keep himself busy in the mean time. It wasn’t the worst spot he’d ever found himself in but with months of recovery staring him in the face he still found his thoughts drifting towards the ocean and the sport he can’t wait to return to.

#providence.intro #「 levi — general 」 » levi blum.

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thoughtsofmyown30 · 3 years

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My father was very abusive to women, my mom was treated as a play thing to him out of fear she was his slave and had been broken in by him many times over.

My Father laughed at humiliating and physically pain fully whipping my mom. He had her clean the house nude his sadist nature reminded her to never hesitate or let him see her question his command. I had seen my mother crawling on her knees and hands a dog collar and leash attached my father leading her around all day treating her as a real dog she ate from bowls on the floor he forced her to use the yard as her bathroom, she wore a tail held by a large metal bulb that was in her bottom he locked her in a dog cage when she upset him or to show off his pet to his work friends. I hear her sobbing and crying out as father whipped her body and her private parts using enemas ginger root plugs icy hot hot sauce restraining cuffs nipple piercing attached to a chain that was hooked to her private parts. His blood daughter from a previous marriage was treated the same way. Sexual physical mental emotional broken and trained to be his slave. Disobedience was harshly punished he had other ppl just to come over and watch him beat his slaves and watch them suffer then fear driving them making them degrade humiliated displayed naked treated and dressed up as teen girls or dogs. Both forced to sexually play with each other and others as well as there master. He was the town judge so no one gave him any issue no matter what it may have been. My mom and sister had been forced to be knotted for his bday gift anal alway. He took pictures and video recording the event as later using as black mail to make them fear what ppl would say if they ever saw them. It always worked and both would be doing more perverted twisted kinky humiliation in stead.

I was told to watch or join in be a man and use his house slaves if I refused he would be insulted and they where treated worse for it.

So I sometimes would start whipping there ass already shredded by father but taking more as I made sure he felt I was doing it 100% the would be incoherently sobbing begging mercy.

I was using meth at 13 years old my mom and sister where kept coked up to make them feel more able to obey deal with pain easy and earn the drug that made them feel numb but was the very thing making them degrade themselves to make it easier to get abused..

My father was a souless pos. My first gf was 13 I was 16 she was a run away from many miles away her past was daily second by second a living hell.

She asked if I could get her high she was. Cute and very sexy submissive and obedient off the bat to me. I told her that I was looking for a gf if she wanted the job she would have a home with me. She agreed great ful for my offering she knelt down and orally sucked swallowed and kissed my cock as a that was all she could do to make me feel like she

Was great ful. I told her before I took her to my father's home what she would be seeing. She looked at me and said she was only going to serve me my pleasure my stress my boredom was to be taken out on her. She was raped by family friends and beat as well daily. If she was going to be treated that way she was at least going to say who could have her willing to be treated that way by me. She was new to meth and I still was but I was 3 years plus every day night I could be doing it. My body was used to the training grounds if meth. She was so horny and the meth made her body freely behaving as she tried to get me aroused ensuring her body was used. She saw my father walking in the kitchen mom was bent over and being fked anally hard and fast her body whipped freshly marked tears rolled down her face my sister tounge deeply in side her father's ass licking as he roughly as he could pounding her ass hole his fat long thick cock stretched out mom his tip was almost as fat making it hurt when he pulled out doing it often to add to the pain pushing it back in spit and her pussy juice only lube she was going to get. Enemas before anal always two if needed rinsed by a hose in the yard, I loud and proud told my father who never stopped fking his slave smiled and said he was proud of me finally his eyes saw a man now that I had said this was my first and new slave she was to be living with me 24/7 daisy watched my father drilling his wife father noticed and barked at her for staring she yelped scaring her and apologizing calling him Lord as his new title he loved it and allowed her to call him that. I sold a lot of dope and always had drugs money and nice shit older women and younger always trying to find out how they could be the one who could secure me and my money for them to ride easy in life. I did that shit cuzz I wished for death so I tested mortality every living second I could.

Yeah I'm fucked up morally and I admit I started to see why father enjoys his slaves. My new toy was waking me up by making my cock her priority, she stayed in my room if I left high good in my fridge and I had my own shower washing drying machine t.v computer internet. So she was not board.

I came home every time even after I was gone days in a row to see a naked girl laied out belts paddles straps tied her self up and had been ordering a list of adult toys to be used on her to better keep my interest. She loved being fked anally hard until she was crying it sore hurting badly my cum filled her ass her mouth cleaned my cock every time I finished cumming in her ass. She gave her enemas before I was home to stay clean shaved her ass pussy and body or waxed it. I bought my own apartment to sell my dope out if and when I took her to my money spring she saw women come hang out and flirt with me using sex there body pretty and they where perverted some more then me trying to sell sex or be a good trade they get high and stay and will do anything I could think of no matter what it was in return. Daisy mad yelled at one of my regular friends who I liked as a friend she was cool and we joked about that shit I told her to earn 5 grams all she had to do was strip that girl naked and paddle her bottom hard fast and long until she agreed to behave like you referred to my friend. Jenny grabbing that girl pulled her over her lap tearing her clothes off roughly holding her ass down pinning her with strength alone and infront of all the people I had in my place she thrashed that girl scolded her daisy blushed sobbing begging to be let go daisy was reduced to involuntarily calling jenny Mommy pleading with her as she regressed to a young child. I had an idea and paying in dope jenny was to teach my girl how to conduct her self. Daily once at my money tree farm daisy was training to be craving for a painful whipping it was my wish to have a girl crave pain and humiliation making it pleasure to her broken mind. Jenny had that cunt lesson fully learned in under 2 months I said I wanted a pet a fully functional trained puppy slut. 7 months daily training lessons daisy obeying her hit teacher who had broke her will by using a harsh whipping on her ass down her pussy lips and thighs inner her clit butt hole beat hard to break her of any hesitation or thought of not obeyed respected eagerly awaiting to serve the pain of a whipping was done to a point that she feared that lvl and would obey as to not earn that stage ever again. Jenny said for 13 ounces of premium ice she would be at my call anytime or place to deal with the naked bitch I had drooling over my boots licking my fingers and playing fetch with a small skinny rubber dildo.

I after thought agreed to a ounce every two months in trade for jenny to take a month off and training my bitch every way possible then I would pay her a fat ounce and she would return two months later to train daisy in something new. Even bringing a young girl her age to turn daisy bisexual. Other older and cruel men I felt with often brought there sluts with them showing off your slaves willing ness to obey any task given to it was bragging rights and showed how much control you maintain as well. Blacks mexicans whites and a Japanese guy I liked having with brought there slave new or one that was never failing to please her master would be brought on party nights and showed off for the party favor. We had drugs cash every where liqure and music the basement refurbished into a bar and striper club poles and kinky shit everywhere to treat a slave as a fking slave. 7 bitches drugged up until they hit the max lvl making them degrade themselves as we watched playing cards they crawling naked crying as there skin was bruised from a belt or other implements cages liking them in to gags so the animals where quite. The jap okatuk brought his sister her friend both whom looked young and feared okatuk as he threatening to beat them both and both fear overwhelmed them crying as they showed off playing with each other. Japs look so young and even if they where I loved training Young girls to be sluts at still a young age in that concern. We party hard two weeks straight was normal.

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notjanine · 3 years

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2020 in books!

the only kind of new year’s resolution i made as a naive baby last january was to try to read 40 books for the year. (i read 37 in 2019, for context.) well, with all of my commuting time eliminated and an increased need for immersive escapism, i ended up surpassing that goal three times over lmao (thanks library ebooks!)

idk how to summarize my year in books in a way that makes sense but

(f) = fiction, (nf) = nonfiction, (p) = poetry.

books that rewired my fucking brain:

braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer (nf)- GOD?!?!?! good. dr. k is right. ostensibly a book about plants, but actually a book about shut up and go outside. consumerism and capitalism are doing their damnedest to fuck you up, but you can just choose to value different things. take care of yourself by taking care of your environment. etc etc.

wasp by richard jones (nf)- lissen. when i got this book, my wasp-phobia was so severe that i had to put it away face down on a high shelf because there are wasps on the cover and i couldn’t bear to RISK even GLIMPSING them. now i am like... a wasp evangelist. (also due to the bugs 101 course on coursera it’s so good.)

wag by zazie todd (nf)- i have a dog, but i am NOT a Dog Person (i.e. i love my dog, but please keep yours away from me, thanks.) this book helped me understand my little guy better, plus it gives actionable tasks and activities to do with and for your pup! plus, y’know, learning about things you’re scared of helps to lessen that fear. i’d recommend this to anyone who has, wants, or regularly interacts with a dog.

a closed and common orbit by becky chambers (f)- is this series complete fluff? absolutely. am i fundamentally different after reading this one? maybe.

the best we could do by thi bui (nf)- this is so far outside of my personal experience but somehow still made me come to peace with my relationship with my mom?? and it’s barely even about that?? idk. this is probably objectively the best book i’ve read this year.

books that were just fun as hell:

mexican gothic by silvia moreno-garcia (f)- this book made me YELL out loud

death on the nile by agatha christie (f)- i grew up on agatha christie shows, but never actually read her before this year! she really was That Bitch. read this before the movie comes out

cosmoknights by hannah templer (f)- i read this in one sitting through the worst headache i’ve had in years. it is a goddamn DELIGHT. this book has everything: spaceships. mech suits. fighting the patriarchy. a perfect otp. fun art in bright colors with clean lines. onomatopoetic WAPs from before the song gave that hilarious context. 800 lesbians. this is an antidepressant in graphic novel form.

stiff by mary roach (nf)- ms. roach is like the 4th most represented author on my bookshelf because she 1. stays writing about shit i’m interested in and 2. manages to talk about gross and ridiculous things without resorting to sensationalism. it takes skill to write a hilarious book about corpses.

black sun by rebecca roanhorse (f)- excellent sexual tension between a horny siren pirate and a hot doomed... monk, kinda? set in the pre-columbian gulf of mexico with magic and shit.

cuisine chinoise by zao dao (? n/f)- this graphic novel about chinese food history/mythology is BEAUTIFUL.

the color of magic by terry pratchett (f)- you’d think a hardcore douglas adams stan would have gotten to this sooner, but no, i had to date a nerdy white boy to get here. it’s fun though! i’m not gonna read them all, but this one was good. bonus: contains one (1) great himbo.

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir (f)- like 500 pages of action and mystery and jokes and space necromancy. harrow the ninth gets a special mention bc it has a meme reference that took me out so hard i had to close the book, lie down, and groan for an entire minute before continuing.

other minds by peter godfrey-smith (nf)- i love octopuses. on one tma bonus ep, jonny sims says that if a creature can choose to do evil, then it’s a Person. octopuses are People. but anyway frfr this has an explanation of the evolution of consciousness that is cool af. (this one is much better than the other recent popsci octo book which i will not name out of politeness.)

the perfect predator by steffanie strathdee and thomas patterson (nf)- i read this bc my microbiology prof recommended it and it’s cool as heck! it’s got adventure, drama, mystery, Science-with-a-capital-S. i’m biased bc i’m a bit of a microbes nerd, but i had a blast with this. (but only bc we know going in that everything works out okay; if i hadn’t known that, i would have been TOO stressed!)

books that were a little less fun but still very readable:

my sister, the serial killer by oyinkan braithwaite (f)- i couldn’t find this as funny as other people bc i, too, have a beautiful sister who’s an insufferable narcissist, so it hits a little too close to home, but. it is a wild ride.

piranesi by susanna clarke (f)- idek what to say! i went into this one blind just bc it had a cool cover and title, so i guess i’d recommend that for other people too.

the sixth world series by rebecca roanhorse (f)- monster hunting! a post-apocalyptic take that doesn’t feel tired.

the shades of magic trilogy by v.e. schwab (f)- easy escapism. some ideas feel a little first draft-y, but idk, it’s also a pretty simple premise (which isn’t a bad thing). it’s a decent urban fantasy set in ~georgian?-era london. very actiony. suffers from a bit of i’m-not-like-other-girls disease, but i didn’t even notice until book two or three, so.

the only good indians by stephen graham jones (f)- starts off a little ??? (and reeks of being Written By A Man) but picks up. the pacing’s great and there’s just a super fucking cool monster.

robopocalypse by daniel h. wilson (f)- this reads like a tv miniseries so much that i can’t believe it isn’t one yet.

confessions of the fox by jordy rosenberg (f)- not my usual cup of tea, fiction-wise, but still compelling. a fresh take on the white-male-english-professor-self-insert? but not insufferable. gets weird!

spinning silver by naomi novik (f)- rumplestilstkin, but make it interesting! a great, richly-told fairy tale, but like, large scale. good to read on a cold day while you’re wrapped up in a blanket with some hot tea.

interior chinatown by charles yu (f)- compulsively readable. a couple things bugged me, but not enough to make me dislike it. a fun companion piece to how to live safely in a science fictional universe. i like this guy’s style.

cannibalism by bill schutt (nf)- COOL. mostly covers the animal kingdom (fun), spends too much time on the donner party (less fun), ends with a SPICY take on prions that i cannot get out of my head!!!

buzz, sting, bite by anne sverdrup-thygeson (nf)- BUGS! broad but not overwhelming, neither dumbed down nor overly scientific, short enough to finish in a day or two. recommend this to literally everyone.

books that made me want to read everything else in the author’s ouevre:

the time invariance of snow by e. lily yu (f)- this FUCKS but it’s too short!!!

an unkindness of ghosts by rivers solomon (f)- okay this book is SO good and so well-written and interesting and blah blah blah all the good things, but... the whole time, i was just like?? why???? why is this what you’re choosing to write about??? (i did also read the deep and blood is another word for hunger after this one, and i did like them both, especially the latter, but i think they can do better! like i think they could write a perfect book and i am gonna be *eyes emoji* until then.)

the space between worlds by micaiah johnson (f)- a fine debut novel, but i want to see her do something a little more... idk, refined? i think she overreaches here, like it’s a little... idk looper? this is how you lose the time war? there’s a better comparison, but i can’t think of it, but you get the idea. and then halfway through it shifts gears to mad max. there’s something weird about one of the central relationships, like it’s not complex enough to take as long to resolve as it does. idk idk. there are just a lot of little nitpicky things. it’s not bad! but i think she can do better and i look forward to finding out.

postcolonial love poem by natalie diaz (p)- thinky! like i tried to read this before bed, but it’s not the sort of thing to parse out while you’re falling asleep, it requires more attention than that.

books that Learned Me Somethin:

smoke gets in your eyes by caitlin doughty (nf)- i am a self-professed death obsessed weirdo, fascinated by death and mourning, but i didn’t know all that much about what happens to a body between the dying and the funeral! this book isn’t big, but it covers a lot and doughty’s writing style is engaging and honest. it’s very memorable.

queer by meg-john barker and julia scheele (nf)- i’m gonna be totally honest and say Queer Theory is above my intellectual pay grade, but this book takes you by the hand and explains the basics.

vitamania by catherine price (nf)- LMAO my fellow americans, never take a supplement. this book is great and well-researched, but normal folks don’t need to read it, just listen to season two of the dream podcast, which definitely cribbed from this.

vegetable kingdom by bryant terry (nf)- this is a fine cookbook, my favorite of his that i’ve read so far. gets a special mention bc i had a religious experience just reading one of his kohlrabi recipes. absolutely gutted that i didn’t have an opportunity to try it this year, since the pandemic put the kibosh on all family bbqs.

the best american food writing 2020 edited by j. kenji lopez-alt (nf)- this really is just a great collection.

are prisons obsolete? by angela y. davis (nf)- yes.

i moved to los angeles to work in animation by natalie nourigat (nf)- before reading this, i had basically zero knowledge of how the animation industry works. now i know like three things.

the secret lives of bats by merlin tuttle (nf)- BATS! okay this book is more about the adventures of being a bat scientist than it actually is about bats, but there are bats in there. insectivorous bats basically shit glitter, you should know this.

books from valuable perspectives:

hood feminism by mikki kendall (nf)- a breakdown of who’s getting left out of feminist spaces, why that’s happening, and why it shouldn’t be happening.

all you can ever know by nicole chung (nf)- a (transracial) adoptee’s take on adoption and learning more about her birth family. the personal storytelling of this one really stuck with me.

motherhood so white by nefertiti austin (nf)- a single-mom-by-choice’s take on the foster system/adoption process. walks you through some things i always wondered about and some things i wouldn’t even have thought about.

this place by kateri akiwenzie-damm et al (? n/f)- i, like a lot of non- native americans, only know that history in broad strokes. getting this many highly specific stories in one dense and beautiful book felt like a lucky find. and taking that perspective into the future in the context of that history is v good.

empty by susan burton (nf)- eating disorder stories are important to me bc i care about food so much. this one is so relatable- not in its specificity, but rather its generality. it’s easy to empathize with her perspective because it’s like, Oh, i don’t have that exact problem, but i struggle with different problems in a very similar way. (feels like the opposite of roxane gay’s hunger, in a way.)

obit by victoria chang (p)- this exploration of grief is... woof.

short story collections are hard to evaluate bc you’ll never read one where every single story hits but i generally enjoyed these:

a thousand beginnings and endings edited by ellen oh and elsie chapman (f)

how long til black future month? by n.k. jemisin (f)

her body and other parties by carmen maria machado (f)

books i revisited:

the broken earth trilogy by n.k. jemisin (f)- i read the series backwards this time and like... i can’t really find any faults in these books, man. they’re just the best.

everyone’s a aliebn when ur a aliebn too by jomny sun (f... but is it really?)- half of this book’s sales are from me buying it for other people bc it’s the only way i know how to say i love you. i reread it every time just to make sure it still feels right and it always does.

other honorable mentions:

white is for witching by helen oyeyemi (f)- not to pit two bad bitches against each other, but this book does what akwaeke emezi’s freshwater was trying to do. it’s a little weird, a little haunted, a little of a lot of things. read this only in the dead of winter. (and with stephen rennicks’ score for the little stranger playing in the background.)

homie by danez smith (p)- there’s a lot going on here, but this just made me crack a smile a couple times in a way that no other book of poetry has ever done.

the murder of roger ackroyd and murder in mesopotamia by agatha christie (f)- That Bitch!

blues by nikki giovanni (p)- she sure has some Things To Say

the three-body problem by cixin liu (f)- interesting concepts, but... idk something’s missing? felt weirdly soulless to me. i’m probably not gonna read the sequels. but it did make some points!

the sisters of the winter wood by rena rossner (f)- i’m a slut for shapeshifting, okay. but this is a good fairy tale, it works!

parable of the sower by octavia butler (f)- i read this in march, when the pandemic was just kicking off and boy that was not the right time. def my least favorite of hers so far, but an octavia butler i don’t love is still better than a hell of a lot of other books. no idea when or if i’ll get to a good enough headspace for the sequel.

faves:

saturnino herrán by adriana zapett tapia (nf)- i got to learn new things about my mans and see some of his paintings i’ve never even seen online! GOSH.

on food and cooking by harold mcgee (nf)- yeah yeah, i’ve already mentioned this book half a dozen times on here this year, but i don’t care. this book lives off the shelf in my home bc i reference it like every other fucking day. this book is a part of me now.

#long post #final total for the year will be 120 by the end of the day!#and i had a pretty good hit rate. would probably recommend at least half #and only outright hated four

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windyhallows · 4 years

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Profiles on Moblie!

Name: Amitsu Katoru

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: Male

Age:10.15(21)

Blood: Gold

Height: 6'6

Sign: Gemries sign of the Savy

Wrigglering day: May 25

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: Alligator Crossed with a Bear.

Typing quirk: Replaces As with @s

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

The owner of a cafe called HoneyBees.

2. Could whip up a custom tea that fits the troll’s personality.

3. Eastern Alterian with a bit of Southern.

4. Amitsu loves large women.

Name: Calice Wahron

Type of Troll: Mutant River

Gender:She/Her

Age: 12.92 (28)

Blood: Olive

Height: 5'11

Sign: LESCES sign of the instructor

Wrigglering day: April 1

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: large Mexican Burrowing Toad named Baba Granham

Typing quirk: replaces K with 8, and E is 3

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A Mud color artist who makes her own paint.

Fresh water dweller who can not go into the sea.

Tends to nap on the river letting it take her anywhere in her boat.

Has a small collection of books.

Name: Epoina Hompis

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:10.15 (22)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 6'0

Sign: Sagillo sign of the Lofty

Wrigglering Day: November 21st

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A horse size Valais Blacknose sheep known as Rosie Mcflufbottom or Baa Mama

Typing quirk:Replacing a with ą Ą,o with ø Ø and u with ű Ű.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

“ Høly Eąrth Crąwlers! Løøk ąt this plące”

Much prefers to live off the land than living in luxury.

Has a massive collection of gems and artifacts.

Tends to travel far from home for days at a time.

Name: Ginlee Meggle

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:8.77(19)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7'4

Sign: CAPRIST SIGN OF THE AUDACIOUS

Wrigglering Day: November 2

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: medium size chinchilla with goat hooves named Atari Dustybottom

Typing quirk: start ～♪ and ～♬

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Not used to new things, Ginlee tends to become overly nervous about it.

Secretly writes slam poetry which she thinks as bad.

Has a knowledge of different hues of paint and what would look good.

Its best not to touch Kotton, unless you wish to become paint.

Name: Kimaoi Midria

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age: 11.55(25)

Blood: Bronze

Height: 5'4

Sign: TAURPIA SIGN OF THE AESTHETE

Wrigglering Day: October 13th

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: Six legged Peruvian guinea pig named Cornwall Barnesly or guinny dad

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Typing quirk: Puts ‘¥’ in front of a sentence

Has her own small home business.

Cute and shy on the outside, horror movie junkie on the inside.

Trying to be comfortable in her own skin again.

Pop Karaoke queen.

Name: Kotton Poplus

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:8.77 (19)

Blood: Lime

Height: 5'3

Sign: CANNIUS SIGN OF THE THEATRICAL

Wrigglering day: August 17

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A large maincoon\ persian purrbeast named Bobbinsnot

Typing quirk: Doubles her os

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A bottle of extreme ball lightening.

Can bend her arm backwards along with several other parts of her body.

Probably the biggest fan of clowns.

Absolutely a wild party girl.

Name: Luenna Coutls

Type of Troll: Mutant land dweller

Gender: She/her

Age: 12.92 (28)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 7'7 tail 6ft

Sign: Doesn’t have a sign

Wrigglering Day: July 16

Lusus: A scale jaguar dragon mix

Voice Claim: Here

Typing quirk: ༄ at beginning and ending of each sentences.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will run away from any loud noises or strangers. Or the combination of the two.

Carries around a snuggle pelt for comfort.

Doesn’t get outside that much, so we’ll add anything new may scare her to the list.

Has a weakness to hot rocks.

Name: Mariuz Panais

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:He /Him

Age: 9.69(21)

Blood: Lime

Height: 5'6

Sign: CANRIUS SIGN OF THE HELPER

Wrigglering day: December 21

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A pig and elephant hybrid named Percilla

Typing quirk: Having put double letters on some words like ‘ms’,’is’ as well four letter words with ‘as’

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Third fastest delivery troll by bike.

Tends to be overly nervous whenever teased,scared or if he is near someone he likes.

Is known to dance to pop music while at home.

Whenever he is nervous, Mairzu will smell of candy.

Name: Nefiri Bastia

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:10.15(22)

Blood: Olive

Height: 6'10

Sign: LENIUS SIGN OF THE RESTLESS

Wrigglering day: April 13

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A giant size sabertooth Wombat named Bruce Mamaro

Typing quirk: uses capitalize on all her Ss, Cs and Vs

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Was formerly the top huntress of her pride.

Takes play fighting a bit too far at times.

Very competitive.

Hates Cucumbers with a passion.

Name: Nixiie Apilon

Type of Troll: Land?

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Jade

Height: 5’3

Sign: Virga sign of the pure

Wrigglering day: March 20th

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A fluffy luna moth caterpillar with cat face and long tail (currently in a cacoon)

Typing quirk: uses a ❀ when talking

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

She will proceed to go after the shiny thing until she catches it.

Nixiie and technology do not mix.

❀ But why can’t I jump out the window! Its fun!❀

Natural flower child.

Name: Rafina Uymumi

Type of Troll: Sea Dweller

Gender:She /Her

Age:12 (26)

Blood: Violet

Height: 6'10

Sign: Aquius SIGN OF THE WHIMSICAL

Wrigglering day: September 22

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: large four eye plesioaur named Morgana

Typing quirk: ♯ and a few fish puns

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Known for her high ring acrobatic dance.

Tends to bing watch fantasy movies and shows.

Had done private shows, if the patron is willing to pay for it.

Has a secret journal half filled with stories about fantasies.

Name: Uniico Katiwa

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age:10.15 (21)

Blood: Bronze

Height: 5'5

Sign: TAURMINO Sign of the lonely

Wrigglering Day: July 23

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A large sheep dog?

Typing quirk:⊱:3 at the start and end of every sentence.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is a proud descent of a woolbeast herder.

He thinks all sea dwellers are just mutated purples.

Knows his ways around fabric.

Uniico knows the mountains the back of his hand.

Name: Pohkin Boines

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:12.46(27)

Blood: Rust

Height: 6'5

Sign: Arsci SIGN OF THE MEDIC

Wrigglering day:June 20

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A long horned saola

Typing quirk:replaces I with î Î and t with ť Ť

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

High maintenance should be her middle name.

A lady of high society living fantasy.

Takes pride in both her garden and weave care.

God forbid if you enter her hive with dirty shoes.

Name: Wilton Maytio

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age:9.23(20)

Blood: Teal

Height: 6’4

Sign: Libiborn Sign of the Finale

Wrigglering day: October 4

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A panther size Siamese cat

Typing quirk: ♘ has a knight at the beginning and end of his sentences.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is the pain of the ass of the office.

Has a large collection of wind up toys.

Willing to take on a case if you are able to help him out with a prank.

A regular charming tomcat.

Name: Belity Talkar

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Teal

Height: 5’3

Sign: LIBUS SIGN OF THE VIBRANT

Wrigglering Day: August 4

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: One arm silverback Gorilla.

Typing quirk: replaces Cs and Ds with Çč and Ðð

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Has proven she is a lethal little thing.

A siren in lounge singer clothing.

Takes great care with her nails.

A devil in disguise.

Name: Guroka Azothi

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:8.31(18)

Blood: Lilac

Height: 7’7

Voice Claim: Here

Sign: CAPRINIUS SIGN OF THE CREDULOUS

Wrigglering Day: September 6, 2019

Lusus: Twin tailed Spider Monkey

Typing quirk: uses Replaces H with 🍬.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Wants to be part of a eastern alterinan idol group.

Can’t tell the difference what’s real and not real.

Has a fantastic smile.

A big fan of eastern alterian sweet fashion.

Name: Himwai Mippei

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She /Her

Age:17.54(38)

Blood: powder blue

Height: 6'3

Sign: SCORCEN SIGN OF THE UNITER

Wrigglering Day: February 18,

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: Giant Sugar Glider

Typing quirk: starts sentences with expression emojis (≧◡≦)

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will mispronounce names.

Study to become a lab technion.

Known to crochet small stuffed animals and other items.

Has an addiction to a drug known as ‘Delightful drops’.

Name: Caesar Pizpea

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age: 11.54(25)

Blood: Indigo

Height: 11’11

Sign: SAGIGA SIGN OF THE BUILDER

Wrigglering Day: May 8

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A small Belted Galloway cow named Bluebabe

Typing quirk: Replaces Oos with Öö and Ee with Éé

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Large body but a rather tiny brain

Overly friendly to small creatures, tends to hug them a bit too tight.

Able to lift a 20 ft tree out roots and all.

Has gotten his head stuck in a paper bag, and mistook it as a cave.

Name: Mascar Oachri

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him

Age: 23.08(50)

Blood: Lime(#7fc924)

Height: 8’5

Sign: [recated]

Wrigglering Day: unknown

Voice Claim: wip

Lusus: Red panda

Typing quirk: ♕ ♛

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Drinks a strange combination of brandy and whisky on the rocks.

Has a strong distaste of high pitch singing and anything pop related.

Once a mafia hitman.

He is mister gives no fucks.

Name: Byuria Matlip

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 8.31 (18)

Blood: Teal(#33a1a1)

Height: 5’9

Sign: Limino Sign of the Endurer

Wrigglering Day: August 12

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: A Bat Ear Fox Papillon mix.(descese )

Typing quirk: ꧁ ꧂At the begining and end of each sentence.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Can easily walk on her hands.

Byuria use to be a graceful dancer.

Mosty mute but, tends to speak whenever she feels comfortable or needed to.

Had made her own patchwork dolls for comfort.

Name: Anthus Carphi

Type of Troll:

Gender: They/Them

Age:15.69(34)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7’7

Sign: [recatcted]

Wrigglering Day: May 14

Lusus: wip

Voice Claim: here

Typing quirk:✧

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Will end a career in seconds if they doesn’t like you.

Devil in spike heel boots.

Has been the top model for fashion week.

Takes the art of the theater very seriously.

Name: Ostara Purima

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 11.08(24)

Blood: Jade

Height: 6’0

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: March 19

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: A large sea otter

Typing quirk: Replaces E with ☘️

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is the top of her class in the medical healing training and top of her class.

Is an overachiever and a grub hatched bookworm.

A coffee addict whenever she needs something done ahead of a deadline.

Nixiie is her partner whenever group projects come, as well tutoring her on the side.

character design are done by : @mycrappyrpsideblog

Name: Odoria Eander

Type of Troll: land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 18.46(40)

Blood: Purple

Height: 7’6

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: September 30

Voice Claim: here

Lusus: wip

Typing quirk:♗ beginning of every sentence and capitalizing M and W.

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

A devoted follower and second preacher of her church.

Has the most sales in the bake sales.

Appears ditzy and sweet but has a bit of a bitter dark chocolate side.

Odoria host the best movie night.

Name: Olivis Affiti

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:She /Her

Age:9.69(21)

Blood: Gold (#bcbf06)

Height: 6’2

Sign: GEMRIST SIGN OF THE STREETWISE

Wrigglering Day: February 7

Voice Claim: wip

Lusus: flying fox crossed with a bee named Leeah Counties

Typing quirk: ☞☜ start and end

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

“ ☞Nah Fam, you fucking pay up front in full or prepare to have the neighborhood to see how big your buldge really is like ya did to me.☜”

Always has a back up plan.

Is known to spray paint crude art on empress’s billboards.

Is her low blood neighborhood information broker.

Name: Zaiard Stesla

Type of Troll: Land

Gender:He /Him

Age:9.23(20)

Blood: Brozen (#7d3a0a)

Height: 5’5

Sign: TAURNIUS SIGN OF THE ENTREPRENEUR

Wrigglering Day: July 10

Voice Claim: wip

Lusus: size boa ferret named Sammulast

Typing quirk: Doubles Tts and Zzs

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Always carries his lusus in his pocket.

Is known to have destructive tantrums.

Will take Gummy worms as a form of payment.

Had his inventions either taken away or destroyed twenty times. Scratch that makes that twenty three times.

Name: Bermit Kurabi

Type of Troll: Land?

Gender: Him/He

Age: 8.77(19)

Blood: Mint

Height:5'4

Sign: Virogy sign of the leaper

Wrigglering Day: May 9

Voice Claim: wip

Lusus: [recatcted]

Typing quirk: Replaces D with 🐸

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Tends to become overly excited about everything new.

Has a habit of hoarding random items that he finds outside of the caverns.

Known for having the longest tongue so far.

Blind as a bat, but has an amazing nose.

Name: Shinra Pinren

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: He/Him/They/Them

Age: 11.54(25)

Blood: Rust

Height: 5'5

Sign: Arotopia sign of the unseen

Wrigglering Day: 9/20/2020

Lusus: Mothman

Voice Claim: wip

Typing quirk: replaces all Is with 🕯️

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Is on the hunt to document every supernatural in alteriania.

Works at the printing press at the trollian papers

Had managed to get himself in the paper once.

“ Wa🕯t so you don’t see that person beh🕯nd you.”

Name:Carrot Recipe

Type of Troll: Land

Gender: She/Her

Age: 15.69(34)

Blood: Bronze

Height: 6'9

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: September 22

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: Angora rabbit

Typing quirk: Starts sentences with 🥕 and caplizes Gs and Os

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Carrot has a talent when it comes to organic baking.

Tends to over water her plants.

A city girl trying to adjust to life in the country.

She’s a little clumsy when it comes to repairing anything.

Name: Biejin Himmei

Type of Troll: Sea Dweller

Gender: She/Her

Age: 13.85(30)

Blood: Fuchsia

Height: 6'9

Sign: wip

Wrigglering Day: May 24

Voice Claim: Here

Lusus: Akhlut

Typing quirk: Starts every sentence with 🍓

Four bulletpoint facts about the troll:

Loves to create confectionary jewelry.

Tends to nap during meetings.

Has left low blood decoys when she has to attend to important events.

Biejin has a talent with creating interesting acids and poisons.

#Fantrolls #Fantroll profiles #moblie profiles #profiles #muses profiles #my muses

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bittysvalentines · 4 years

Text

Sweet and Soft

From: @sophiegaladheon

To: @lizards-online

Rating/Warnings: G/none

Summary: It's taken a long time to get there, but Kent Parson is happy. And if his boyfriend shows up at his house in the middle of the night asking for help, well, it's just one more reminder of how lucky he is.

It’s late at night (or perhaps very early morning depending on how you look at it) and a rare late-autumn thunderstorm is raging outside as Kent lazily flips through the channels without much interest, his favorite girl curled into a purring ball on his chest. He is, perhaps to his own surprise, in a really good mood.

The Aces had beaten the Falcs in Vegas earlier in the evening, but it had been a tight game, and fun in a way Kent had almost given up on hockey being most of the time. It makes a difference, he thinks, playing with and against people he considers friends off the ice.

After the game, he and Alexei had slipped away from their respective teams to have a date, one of the few real, proper ones they got to have during the season. Kent had taken him to his favorite Mexican place in Vegas, a tiny pace off the strip that did giant burritos fit for post-game NHL players and tamales Kent would kill a man for.

Alexei had spilled salsa on his tie and Kent’s camera roll has several prime new additions depicting his comically distressed face.

Kent didn’t think it was too much of a loss. It had truly been a hideous tie, and he knew Alexei only wore it to torture him.

In fact, the only unfortunate part of this whole otherwise delightful evening had been when Alexi had been pulled away at the end of it, recalled to help sort out some nonsense the Falcs rookies had gotten up to.

(“Why didn’t they call Zimms? He’s the responsible one.”

“Still too scared of him. Rookies haven’t figured out Zimmboni is a big softie.”

“Sure, and I’m restrained and respectable.”

“You have your moments. Hear you help Troy assemble baby furniture last weekend. Very adult, very responsible captain.”

“Shut up. Go help the baby Falcs.”)

So, instead of spending the evening with his boyfriend, Kent is home alone with his cat. He is strangely okay with it, though. (Well, he is a bit upset. He gets to see Alexei so rarely during the season and, tbh, he was hoping to get laid.) He’s comfortable with the good things in his life, though, knows there’s more where that came from. He won’t lose these anytime soon.

Content. He is content.

Sometimes he thinks about the person he used to be, how far he is from that angry, twisted up young man, and he’s sad for all the years he wasted. Then he takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he can’t change the past, and focuses on the future.

There’s a loud knock at the door and Kent jolts, sending an annoyed Kit running for the bedroom. Kent shakes his head, sending away the fog of sleep that had been creeping over his mind.

The list of people who have the code to get past his gate is short, the number on that list who would show up at his place in the middle of the night is shorter, and the number of those people who would then bother to knock is even shorter still. So he can’t say he’s surprised to see Alexei, still in his game-day suit and sopping wet, standing on his doorstep in the pouring rain, holding a mangled bundle of what looks like a wet newspaper and grinning hopefully at him from behind his dripping bangs.

“Kenya! I need help.”

Kent rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Get inside before you catch pneumonia.” He stands aside to let Alexei in, shivering a little as the wind blows in wild and damp before he shuts the door. “Wait here, I’ll go get some towels,” he says before hurrying off down the hall.

When he returns, arms full with a stack of towels so high he can hardly see over them, he stops, heart twisting painfully in his chest.

Alexei has set his bundle of newspapers down, the sodden sheets falling aside to reveal the shivering, huddled form of a puppy, hardly bigger than a loaf of bread.

Kent isn’t a dog person, he doesn’t know enough to be able to identify this one as anything other than ‘small’ and ‘brown’ and ‘soaking wet’, but the last one is what the towels are for so he wordlessly hands one to Alexei, who carefully starts to pat the shivering dog dry.

“She was in the dumpster behind the bar,” Alexei says, unprompted. Kent carefully tugs at his sopping suit jacket, sliding it off and replacing it with a dry towel. “Heard her whining, trying to get out. Someone left the lid open but it was too empty, she couldn’t climb out and she couldn’t get away from the rain. I couldn’t leave her.”

Kent takes a second towel, rubbing it gently over Alexei’s hair. “Of course you couldn’t,” he says. He wouldn’t expect anything less of his boyfriend. The softest heart for children and animals, the kindest man he has ever known. It makes his own heart ache with tenderness.

“Couldn’t bring her back to the hotel. Sorry, know you don’t like dogs.” Alexei offers him an apologetic smile.

Kent rolls his eyes. “What, like you couldn’t have batted your eyes at Zimms and the concierge and have everyone just roll over for you?” He lays off drying Alexei’s hair to slug him in the shoulder. “It’s fine. I don’t mind dogs.” He grabs a fresh towel to hand Alexei for the dog. “I like being the one you come to for help.” He might mumble the last bit a little, but he knows Alexei hears.

“I like you too, Kenya,” Alexei says, a laugh in his voice. Kent slugs him in the shoulder again at the teasing.

I love you. Kent doesn’t say it, but he can’t help but think it as he watches Alexei, so conscientious and careful as he fusses over the shivering puppy.

I love you. He thinks it as he helps Alexei get the now-dry dog settled in a large, blanket-lined box in his bedroom, the man himself stripped down to his boxers to avoid dripping all over Kent’s carpets.

I love you. He thinks it once more, lying in bed with Alexei’s warm, reassuring presence tucked in behind him, his breathing soft and even.

“I love you”, Kent whispers, quiet enough that the words barely reach his own ears, let alone Alexei’s sleeping ones.

Kent smiles into the dark. He can hear the puppy shifting in her box. Alexei is a comforting presence at his back. Kit is curled up against his chest. “I love you,” he whispers again. Soon, he thinks. Soon he will say it to Alexei. And right now? Right now, things are good.

#alexeikent #taterparse #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

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ck90 · 4 years

Text

Hold On (& ficlet)

Still not my fault and of course I’m blaming @fortysevenswrites BECAUSE I CAN!! I was in the middle of the crazysauce NaNo (I finished YAY! Well, I got the 50k so YAY!) when this came out of nowhere. I was going to do a Bat/Cat Punisher mesh-up but then this happened and yeah, it’s @fortysevenswrites fault so blame her. (Haven’t edited - forewarned.)

Also on AO3

It was cold. No, she was freezing her butt off. Which was nothing out of the ordinary for a January night in New York. She should be in that shitty hovel the landlord had the balls to call an apartment. Should lick her wounds and clean her weapons. Should go over the intel that Turk had given up after only one threat. Either she’s gotten meaner or the small-time wannabe gangster had gotten soft on her. She should memorize the faces of the Devil Dogs who were stupid enough to make a deal with the Mexican Cartel.

But no. She was here. Again. With him. Again. At the river. Again.

Somehow this had become their spot. She didn’t know how or when, but it definitely was now. Too many cold night meetings to be anything else.

She watched the full, very kissable lips move as he talked. Not that she would kiss him, but she could think about it in the dark corner of her soul where she allowed herself some pleasant thoughts or memories. If she was truthful, just being near him was cathartic even when he was scolding her about the bruises on her face, the split lip and God only knew what else.

Karen sunk deeper into her coat. It was good that he didn’t know about the broken ribs, the two-inch gash on her thigh that was still oozing onto the black jeans. There were other contusions on her back and her shoulder was killing her from when she jumped down three - maybe four - floors and before grabbing the railing to stop her momentum. Her eyes closed as she rode through the hot throbbing burn that pulled at the damaged muscles. All she wanted was to crawl into a fetal position and not move for a week.

No time for self-pity. Are you a warrior or whiner, Marine!

The pain dulled and her eyes opened. Frank was still talking. Scolding. Pleading. They had this conversation more than once.

She couldn’t keep this up forever. Debatable.

One day someone would get lucky and she wouldn’t get back up. Eventually. Yeah. Probably. But not yet.

How much more blood had to be shed before her need for vengeance was sated? All of it. The streets would run red with the blood of those responsible for the massacre of her family.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t listening, she was, just not focusing on his words necessarily. He looked good. Damn, he looked good. And cold. Who the hell goes out at night in January without a scarf?

She couldn’t stand it anymore. With the arm that only ached, she undid the scarf around her neck and held it out to him.

Frank stopped talking. Looked at the scarf. Her. The scarf. He took it, without thinking and started to put it around his neck, then paused for one very long second as the fabric brushed against his face.

He looked confused like he’d lost his train of thought or… Did he…? She would chew a bullet if he didn’t just sniff her scarf.

“You were scolding me.” Those dark, expressive eyes that spoke volumes embraced her, holding tight and she almost… No! She pulled herself together. “Blah, blah, blood, death. Killing. Bad.” She looked at him expectantly. Wanting that knee-jerk, do-gooder reaction that would get her out of this… whatever that was way more dangerous to her than any gangland shootout.

“I want there to be an after. For you.” His voice was raspy, low, and wrecked.

She took a deep breath and instantly regretted it as stars pricked at her vision. Frank noticed, closing the distance between them, hand reaching out to comfort, but she couldn’t let him. Couldn’t give in to this ever-growing need that was burning inside her. Threatening to snuff out her need for vengeance. If he touched her, she’d want more. Want to sink into his warmth and never leave.

Karen had thought there was nothing left to break. To hurt. But looking in those warm, expressive eyes and she knew there was still something left. If she let him in, he’d have the power to hurt her. Destroy what was left. To stop her from her mission. And she’d let him.

She couldn’t let him in. “Do you think there’s a happy ending for me? That after all I’ve done, there’s some light at the end of the tunnel and everything is going to be all right. Go back to normal, whatever the hell that is.”

“Karen—”

“I don’t want to.” The lie came out of her mouth so easily even if she’d never done it before. At least, not to Frank.

“I don’t want to stop.” This was hurting her more than all the bruises and stab wounds and half-healed bullet holes in her body. “This is who I am. All I am! You can’t be a part of this. I won't let you throw away everything for me.”

“Do you think that anything you’ve done changes how I feel about you?”

“It should.” Came out as a strangled cry. She was barely holding it together now.

“It doesn’t.”

Those words. What he was saying - without actually saying… It hit like a sledgehammer. Jesus Christ. He can’t. Couldn’t. She’d thought the broken ribs made it hard to breathe, but the meaning behind those words where… Goddammit, Frank!

He saw the conflict, the indecision in her eyes and moved. “We’ll figure this out. Together. You and me.” His hand brushed a stray strand of blonde hair away from her eyes.

“Frank—”

He kissed her. It wasn’t a proper kiss. Just the corner of her mouth because he was being ever so conscious of her split lip. She could taste a hint of coffee from his lips. Those soft, kissable lips.

She could allow herself just one kiss, couldn’t she? Karen angled her mouth towards his, sliding her tongue against his lips. The sound he made was sinful.

Screw the split lip, the broken ribs, and bruises. She threw her arms around those broad shoulders, pulling him closer. Her tongue slid into his mouth. It was a mistake. A horrible, wonderful mistake and she was where she belonged. Home.

He was her home.

If it was hard to leave him before, it would be impossible now.

And they both knew it.

#fictlet #BAMF karen #Punisher!Karen #Karen Page #karen x frank #kastle au #Kastle #kastleff #kastleedit

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