#thealanabloom

[noteasilyswayed-arc]

     FORMERLY THE-ALANA-BLOOM   //  loved eternally by jessica.

[yankeeballs-a]

A  LONG  TIME  SINCE  HE’D  LAST  COOKED  FOR  SOMEONE ,      since there’d last been an occasion ,        a person he’d liked enough to put all nonexistent culinary skills into the preparation of one evening .        but she’d smiled like she had ,        features he finds not only appealing but for some reason strangely  calming  too        (   he can see why she’d be an amazing psychiatrist   )        forming a smile that had just immediately tickled the question from his tongue ,        without much thinking .        and now ,        after the steak had turned out  fairly decent  and they’re sitting opposite each other ,        it feels good ,        domestic almost        (   he’d missed that   )        and he’s glad he’d asked .        

they’re finished with the food when he’s leaning back in his chair ,        digit againt lower lip as if pondering ,        while he watches her .           ‘     so .  .  .        are you satisfied   ?     ’           brow’s raised for a moment ,        his other hand lazily swirling the wine in his glass ,        before a  mischievous ,        partly amused smirk curls lips .         ‘    did i please   ?     ’

@the-alana-bloom   gets  a  date  .

[riingleaders-blog]

STARTER CALL     /     @the-alana-bloom

     “ would you believe me if i said magic was real ? ” few things in life did barnum truly believe in, having seen some of the worst of humanity in his years as a child. but he’d always had a heart that believed in magic.

[cruelonlytobekindarchived]

@the-alana-bloom (x)

“You done psychoanalyzing me, doctor?”

It’s not venomous, but it’s definitely not pleased. The Stark heir(ess) is in the midst of making breakfast for the both of them-- they’re constantly fallen into a comfortable silence and conversation, alternating between the do. Stark talks because talking is her second-nature-- it’s relieving, and it reduces her anxiety to hear herself out loud. People think that she’s just a blow-hard who wants to intake her own voice, but mostly it’s calming her endlessly stretched, lengthy anxiety. The kind that rolls on and on as far as the eye can see.

(Today is an okay pain day. The kind that could teeter between a 4 or a 6, given to how her stress levels alternate. Right now, little white undershirt and black bike shorts, she’s hovering between a 4 and a 5. The Arc is always worse when the weather’s cold.)

“No. I’ve been as myself as I usually am,” Which means she goes through manic cycles and then depressive ones, so that’s likely a veiled are you feeling stable statement. It sets her teeth a little on edge. As far as she’s concerned, everyone is the enemy, most of the time, “Tell me if you wanna instigate something, doc. I’ll pencil you in for a few hours. I’m a pretty good time.”

She winks with a pleasant hum, sets a plate of strawberry pancakes and take a sip of (very spiked) coffee, pouring some more batter into the pan. She doesn’t know why she’s still relentlessly flirting like it hasn’t been years and Alana isn’t aware she’s less sleazy than this, but behold, here she is.

“If those are too sugary for you, tell me. I’ll make you another stack, gorgeous.”

[bestvictima]

       “I THINK IT’S the contrary, doctor.”  a sweet, sweet smile, one brow raised.  “i tend to have a very, uh, very negative outlook on life.  at least, that’s what a past therapist has said.”  a joke, though it’s probably not very funny.  “but.  i do know -- or, i have a sense -- that you are good.  it’s kind of a sixth sense, but maybe i’m just good at reading people.”

       fingers curl through shoulder-length blonde hair, one leg crossing over the other.  it’s as if they’re some sort of stepford wife, not a hair out of place, blemishes covered up with layers of makeup because hey, nothing’s wrong with their life, and they’re good, and they’re not constantly on the verge of a break.  if they can kid themselves into believing it, maybe they can fool others into believing the same thing.

       “but, hey, if you can make good people last just a bit longer, who am i to keep that from happening.  all the good has to, uh, to balance out the bad, right.” // @the-alana-bloom cont.

[vikingprince-blog]

Did you think I would forget?

@the-alana-bloom​ | continuation of one-sentence starter

Eric sensed the vulnerability behind her eyes, her gestures. God, she was so soft. It was his instinct to protect her, to shield her, to reassure her. But it seemed he wasn’t very good at it, if she thought he could forget her.

His gaze was steady as he watched her face. He didn’t look away, or get nervous. It was something that most people found off-putting about him. It was the way he was -- and always had been. The only exception to this rule was his maker, Godric. The only one who could truly bring Eric to his knees -- but he was gone, and had been gone for a long time now.

The vampire raised his hand to run his forefinger along her cheek. He knew she was trying to be strong. “How could I forget you?” He returned the smile, though nothing was hidden behind his. “Sometimes, Alana, I think the only one in this world who does not realize how unforgettable you are -- is you.”

Stepping closer, he gently cupped her face in his hands, mesmerized by her femininity, her beauty. “You don’t have to hide from me. Cry if you want to cry. I’m not going anywhere.”

[mistressnorth-a]

[ @the-alana-bloom​​ liked ]

         “It’s nice to cook for someone else again for a change. After the divorce, and with the kids at college, I got a little lazy I admit.” 

[yankeeballs-a]

✧ :3

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

SEND ME A ✧ AND I’LL BOLD ALL THAT APPLY TO YOUR MUSE.

[starraised-archive]

[text] Stop falling asleep in the bathtub. You’re going to drown and die and leave me and I’m not having that. (Deanna)

texting meme || accepting || @the-alana-bloom

[ sms: alana ] i didn’t fall asleep! i just closed my eyes... for an hour!

[ sms: alana ] okay, maybe i shouldn’t have had a glass of wine in the bathtub too... maybe you should have been there with me.

[ sms: alana ] this bathtub is big enough for the two of us... so next time, you need to join me.

[pchobbs]

✧ IF IM NOT TTOO LATE

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse. | accepting!!!I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧ I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧ I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[cruelonlytobekindarchived]

“I’m only trying to help and right now I think I have a much better idea of what you need than you do.” (That’s right Dr Bloom u put Alana Stark in her place)

WORRIED STARTERS. STATUS: PLEASE

She squints. She’s still shaking. The good doctor’s voice is coming out of everywhere, the Man of Iron thinks. She doesn’t know. She can’t pinpoint it. She just knows she feels a hand on her forehead and trying to steady her arms and she’s still wobbly on her feet, wracked and stricken useless by the harsh sting of a night terror sinking deep into her guts, worn like a cloak around her shoulders. It still crawls all over her, delirium and panic, pain of waking up in a fog.

The next time she goes to touch her Stark catches her wrist with lightning quick severity, her reflexes responding before she does. She can feel her deep breaths as painfully low in her chest as they sit, feel like they’re caving the reactor with every slow gasp. She’s still shaking. She must be covered in some kind of cold sweat.

“Stop—“ She grates out, “—touching me.”

She lets go, not gently at all, and tries to adjust to the dark of her own surroundings. There’s that kind of nausea in her stomach, and her eyes hurt, and her head is pounding, the beginnings of a hangover setting in, now.

“Stop. Helping me.”

[goodwillprofessor-archive-blog]

@the-alana-bloom:

She frowns. Not because of WHAT he said, necessarily. In fact, the way he said I’m not okay was quite possible the most innocent & adorable way anyone could say such a thing, without REALLY saying it. But it was the fact that she knew what he meant. Jack—–from what little Alana had gathered from him in the short amount of time they had gotten to know each other, she knew that he was the most ENTHUSIASTIC person on the face of the planet. He radiated joy & life. He————much like herself, was probably too stubborn to admit they weren’t okay. Or to even take it seriously.

‘ That’s fair. Sometimes I do that too. I mean, when is there not something inside of us screaming aaaaaa at least once a week? ‘ she’s smiling now. Deciding not to READ into the situation until she had to. Sometimes, she really did wish she could turn off DOCTORBloom. ‘ What’s got you screaming today? ‘ she asks. Nonchalant. Non invasive. Good.

     That’s the thing with most people; there’s always a part of them that’s screaming, controlled by a little meter; at the bottom end of the scale was a small aaaaaaa that’s so distant it may as well be shouted from the bottom of a canyon, heard only barely by those at the very top. Then it climbs the scale, and the internal screaming gets so loud that it forces its way out of the person’s mouth and becomes audible to everybody around. Jack was probably at the stage of aaaaaaaaaaaaa, which is not quite enough to to be of concern to anybody else, but enough that he might just fall from where he was standing and muffle it into whatever flooring was beneath him, probably because he broke his nose on the way down.

     ‘I haven’t slept in two days,’ he replies. The words are slightly slurred through his apparent excitement and sleepiness, but Jack tries his best to keep himself in tact. ‘I might have fallen asleep for half an hour some time this morning but if I did my dream was so realistic that I can’t be sure anymore. I’m on the verge of something, Alana, and it’s too early to say what, but I’m afraid that I’ll lose everything if I let myself give into sleep before I’m done figuring.’

[thecreaminhiscoffee]

☕ - reassuring touch, such as holding their hand, gripping their shoulder, guiding them by the arm or by a hand on the small of their back, etc

☕ - reassuring touch, such as holding their hand, gripping their shoulder, guiding them by the arm or by a hand on the small of their back, etc.

She isn’t...she isn’t paying attention, really.  It’s a side-effect: years of ToonTown and Toon physics and yes, she can fall down a sinkhole, and it might hurt a bit, but there’s no true serious injury because Toons can’t really be hurt (not without Dip) - none of which translate well to being human and falling down a sinkhole and potentially breaking any possible combination of bones or hitting her head and having a concussion, all of which would pause her current attempts to help Roger.At the moment, Jessica is more focused on her husband being a rabbit and a lead she had to a potential magician in lower New York who appeared to be jumping from one end of the room to the other with no explanation (yes, she understands that most magicians redirect your attention elsewhere so that you don’t see the actual change, but this one...is different) than the sidewalk in front of her, and of course, there is construction work (she is a Toon, if she can live through an anvil dropping on her head - or a piano - typical construction work is nothing...or should be) and the men are distracted by her (again, typical)--And there’s a hand on her arm, slowly guiding her away before a ton of bricks falls on her had (instead it falls a few seconds later, missing her but only barely).Jessica looks up at the sound, back at the bricks, remembers she isn’t a Toon, and then looks back to the woman guiding her away, face flushed.  “Thank you.  I...wasn’t looking where I was going.”

[fangiit-blog]

☠ @the-alana-bloom plotted starter

--She had played the part well many a time before, some glorified guard dog for the  t r e a s u r e s  of a sickened Lord. Unwelcomed beast she as, felt uneasy eyes on her battle-battered body as she crosses the threshold of their cage. They, the ones clad in white by the hand of the Immortan, untouched by the wastes, clean & hiding hells they think she knows not of. What no amount of clear water could scrub from their skin.

Boots are heavy on the softly dusted ground of their oasis, kicking up tiny sandstorms of what of the outside world did invade; behind her the weighted scrape & thud of closure, locks grinding any hope of escape away once more. But there stood the Bag of Nails, to offer pseudo-freedom to one. It would not be a first, & perhaps not a last. A luxury for raven-haired Alana, one she may keep so long as no ill card was played.

                                 “--Let’s go,”

& no words further find Furiosa’s tongue as she crosses passed the ever-tempting pool that the wives were allowed to bathe in; passed piles of books & trinkets that were meant to make their lives a blessing. Pampered foolish to the outside world. Oh how she loathed it, & oh how she knew the bitter truth.

She spares only one glance to Alana, to ensure she may be padding behind her as she makes trek to sandstone stairs that lead to one other guarded doorway. Not to the hearts chambers of the Citadel as the other, but to the greenery topside of it all. Gardens, beauty, something it’d seemed the woman had found some small solace in.

[sungrabbiing-blog]

☼ ☠ ☼ @the-alana-bloom​ continued from X

--There is something to be said of his MERCY for her, for behind the bared dull teeth of the horse born ‘cross his MUZZLE were the sharpened fangs of a   w o l f. For she who ungrateful fled from him, baring no small sliver of gratitude for what he had PROVIDED, she ought to tremble knowing he may thrash her delicate frame from sun-kissed and waste-worn remnants of beauty to bloodied lessons. He may hold her--once so GIVING he would say, once so KIND--by her throat in his hands like teeth and shake her in beastly rage. 

But for the moment, he looms, heaving breath & piercing gaze. No hand on her, yet she is captive. No restrains, yet she knows better than to flee only to fall to further PUNISHMENT for her disloyal & churlish actions.

               “I give to you. To the others. What gifts you are given                as my  t r e a s u r e s  no other creature knows. From                that you want  f r e e d o m?”

& the beast bristles under his armor, but his eyes though they had flared become hauntingly   d e l i c a t e  in his regard to her. Many a foolish one who had first come to him had not seen past such a gift in false gentle looks. Many had seen the gifts he lay out & thought not of the price.

                            “I give you clean air. Water. Entertainment. Yet you                             would rather betray what I give you, give nothing                             in return, die in the wastes?”

[starraised-archive]

modern au for @the-alana-bloom

Most people would say that Spock didn’t have friends -- that he didn’t have anyone other that patients or colleagues in his life, and that was mostly due to the professional but borderline painfully stoic demeanor he possessed. That being said, there were some people who were able to see the human side of him... but those few quickly realized that Connor had a heart, and a rather large one at that. 

So when he arrived at Alana’s, he was prepared: tie loosened, jacket unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled. He also had grabbed a six pack of a new local brewery’s first batch of a grapefruit IPA -- it attracted his interest enough that Spock could only hope Alana would enjoy it as well. The package store also had tortilla chips and salsa and Spock couldn’t help himself, so they were ina bag around his wrist. Pale knuckles knocked at her door, and he even offered her a small smile once he finally saw her.

“I heard you were going to be here late... I thought you would enjoy some company. I brought refreshments --” he showed her the beer and snacks, dark eyes a little brighter. “May I come in?”