#Addicted To Dimes book

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

can I be so real with you. can I be honest. totally aside from the moral panic about women on booktok being """porn addicts""" because they're reading erotica, I think it's so fucking goofy when people act as if there needs to be some kind of societal reckoning with how tiktok books "aren't very good." like, okay? they're commercial products mass produced for entertainment. tiktok didn't invent that; you're going to have to take it up with pulp magazines and dime novels and comic books. you guys would throw up if you found out about Fanny Hill.

[fate-motif]

the saw universe is pigpilled already, and so is ours

john kramer’s ideology, or the pigpill as i like to call it, did not spring fully formed out of his broken head when he crashed his car after his wife’s miscarriage and his terminal cancer diagnosis. even before losing any single fuck he had to give before that moment, do you know what he was like? he was a rich white guy in his fifties who explicitly hated the work his wife did helping out addicts. those are a dime in a dozen. your dad could be one of them.

the pigpill is just a far more radicalized approach for your average social darwinist take common in your everyday conservative. john literally talks about survival of the fittest to matthews when given the opportunity to soapbox. when he sees someone, anyone, living any life that he disapproves of, he thinks they were endowed with absolute freedom of circumstance from birth, and they are where they are, doing what they want by choice. even if they’re doing this because they’re poor, or addicted, or mentally ill. therefore, he gets carte blanche on how to deal with him.

“why is this important” to explain to you why saw 3D: the final chapter is secretly genius actually and here’s why—[gets dragged off stage by a cane]

bobby dagen convinced the entire world that he was a jigsaw survivor, sharted out the most mid self-help book in the world, and people ate it up because the basis for the pigpill is already deeply embedded in modern society. all that bootstrap narrative is what john tells himself when (or if) he asks himself why adam could not earn a living doing anything other than invading people’s privacy, or why addison had to resort to sex work, or any of his other victims really. that same bootstrap narrative is also the backbone of the self-help industry. and that’s how you get bobby dagen parroting john’s lines back to john’s own victims, and it’s not even out of place. no one notices it being fundamentally wrong, except for simone. 

… it also kind of contextualizes why hoffman and gordon would eat that shit up, too, you know.

[ramp-it-up]

Taste

Pairing: Mob Boss! Sam Wilson x Rumlow! Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic); Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic); Brock Rumlow x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: around 4K

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Childhood hoods, childhood crush, childhood nicknames based upon appearance, young Brock, Steve, Bucky and Sam, skinny Stevie Rogers, sibings being sibings, bratty behavior, Angst, allusion to underage drinking and crime, toxic parents, protective bothers, allusions to underaged drinking, bratty behavior, a punch in the nose (accidental), bloody nose, shirtless Sam, kind of innocent reader, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) loss of virginity, pain during sex, p in v, raw sex (wrap it or don’t tap it), praise kink, after care. This entire fic is comprised of two flashbacks.

A/N: This is in the same AU Try a Little Tenderness and The Representative, and comes directly after Addicted To You. The AU is called This Thing of Ours.

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You were ten years old, it was 2002, and you were spending the summer in Brooklyn at your father’s house. 

It was long before the mob war that he created which separated your brother Brock from his best friends. 

And it was a time that would change you forever.

The July afternoon was hot and so was the block. Music was blaring from the speakers of someone’s radio and there was a buzz in the air: adolescence, ambition and a potential for violence. 

You a slave to a page in my rhyme book/Gettin' big money, playboy, your time's up/Where them gangstas at?/ Where them dimes at?/They shootin'! Aw, made you look

They called you Bunny because of your teeth and your size. But you were a scrapper and could stand up for yourself. Your father taught you that. 

You also had a smart mouth, and roasted anyone who dared talk about you or your family. 

Your mother taught you that. 

When you came to your father’s house while your mother took her annual girls trip that summer, you found that your big brother was suddenly different. Gone was the quiet gangly 12 year old who drew up plans for world domination in composition books in his room; a wiry 13 year old who had friends who were just as scrappy and hungry as he was had taken his place.

Little Stevie Rogers never backed down from a fight. That’s where his best friend Bucky Barnes came in, backing him up when Stevie was against the wall. Brock was the kid with vision, the one who had a plan to get them where they wanted to be.

In power.

Your brother tried to ignore you, but you trailed after him because there was nothing better to do. One day, you sat in the stoop and watched him and his friends working to open the fire hydrant across the street from your dad’s house.

Your brother felt your eyes on them as you hugged your knees.You were a sight, bushy hair, glasses, braces, and an intense look on your face. He felt bad. 

For a second.

“Why don’t you go on over there and play dolls with Shandy and “n’em, Bunny?”

You glanced over at the girls playing on the next stoop, their braids wilting in the sun. They were playing with stiff dolls with stiff plastic hair and legs that didn’t bend. Not your scene.

You just poked your tongue out at him and moved to stand in the water now dripping out of the hydrant, your strawberry sneakers with the bows getting drenched. You smiled down at them, thinking of how mad your mother would be.

“Aw, c’mon Brock. She ain’t hurtin’ nobody. Let her have some fun.”

Bucky’s blue eyes shone down at you and you pushed up your glasses and looked up at him, squinting in the sun. Stevie’s bony elbow bumped into yours as you hopped to avoid the bruising gush of water along the pavement as they succeeded in their quest.

“Sorry.”

Stevie smiled at you. He really was a nice boy, even though he was pugnacious. Bucky was a smart ass, however.

“You don’t want her to melt, do ya? Your old man would skin you alive.” 

Stevie and Bucky laughed as Brock scowled. He didn’t have time for benevolence or little sisters. He had plans. He shook his head.

“Focus. We gotta stick with the plan. Sammy Wilson is coming over to talk about what’s happening tonight, and she doesn’t need to be around.”

You flipped Brock off behind Bucky and Stevie’s back, and he just scowled harder at you. No matter what you did, he didn’t engage with you like you wanted him to. How boring.

Bucky whistled. 

“Wilson is fast. That dude can run his ass off.”

Sam was on the track team at the high school down the block.

“I can beat him.”

Stevie puffed his bird chest out and Brock and Bucky laughed at him. You felt bad. 

“I believe you Stevie.”

He grinned at you and ducked his head.

Brock rolled his eyes and you flipped him off.

He pointed back at you.

“I’m sick of you. I’m telling Dad.”

You thrilled at the attention.

“Go ahead, I’ll tell him what you’re up to.”

Brock grabbed you by the shirt, snarling.

“You better not say a fucking word.”

You pulled away and landed on the pavement, your knee skinned. You kneeled, bending over to look at it, and to keep your tears inside, when you heard the voice of an angel.

“Need some help?”

You looked up into a face haloed by the sun. You reached for the hand that was offered and stood up to look into the face of 14 year old Sammy Wilson. And you were done for.

That gap tooth smile, those eyes. That skin.

You stared at him as you registered laughter around you. Sam spoke again.

“You okay?”

He seemed like he really wanted to know how you were.

“Y-yeah.”

He chuckled.

“You better clean that off.”

Sam took your hand and led you back over to the hydrant. He kneeled down, cupped water in his hand and cleaned off your knee.

“Sssssss!” 

It stung.

“Sorry. But it’s for your own good.”

You felt warm, and not just from the heat, as you let him take care of you.

You stared at him as he finished.

“That’s the best I can do. You need to get a band-aid.”

“Okay.” 

You would do anything he said. Sam looked up at you and it was like the air was sucked out of your body. You didn’t know what this feeling was, but it intrigued you.

“No problem. I got a little sister at home. Sarah. Just looking out. You gotta be careful.”

He smiled as he stood up and walked away. 

You watched him move over to the other boys, forever changed because that’s when you fell in love with Sammy Wilson.

You spent that last summer in Brooklyn as the unofficial mascot of the Savage Crims, the newest gang on the block. Steve, Bucky, and Sam adopted you and you became scout, lookout, and spy. It was the best summer of your life.

Your mother moved to Los Angeles that fall and took you with her. She started dating more legitimate businessmen, meaning the same type of men as your father, just with generational wealth and privilege.

It was a different world than New York. You went to fancy private schools and learned how to play the game. You were now a “friendly black hottie,” sidekick to the main character in every scene. 

But you were smart. 

As you grew older, you watched and learned and played the part, and soon, you were running the game. By the time you graduated from high school, you were the center of attention, just the way you liked it. 

Your mother was engaged, and you and she were on the cusp of something she’d dreamed of her entire life: being iconic.

You started your first two years in college at UCLA, but you convinced your mother that fashion was how you would enable yourself to meet the best type of men, and that Parsons School of design in New York was the place to be. 

You acted as if you were uninterested in reconnecting with Brock, who your mom thought hadn’t contacted you in eight years aside from telling you that your father had died.

You convinced your mother that you wouldn’t venture off the island of Manhattan, and she believed you because she was in the midst of applying the full court press on her man.

The truth was, you and Brock kept in touch regularly, and you were eager to see your brother again. 

And his friends.

So you flew back East in 2012, 10 years after you left, butterflies threatening to fly out of your mouth as you landed at Laguardia. 

After a few weeks in the city establishing your dominance, you showed up at the boys’offices unannounced. He knew you were in town, and told you about how successful he was now, with the help of Bucky and Steve. 

And Sam. 

You were going to go see just how successful everyone was. 

And how lucky you could get.

“Who the hell is that?”

Bucky peered at the camera about the buzzer to the brownstone. Steve came over to look as well.

“It can’t be… Brock, c’mere.”

“What is it? We’re trying to work out this next shipment…”

Brock looked at the camera as Sam watched his jaw drop from the table.

“Who is it?”

“Fuck! That’s Bunny!”

Brock backed up as Steve pressed the buzzer. He opened the door to wait for you to climb the stairs.

“Stevie!?” 

Your excited shriek was muffled as the now beefy blonde picked you up immediately to twirl you around into the loft space.

You stood back, feeling his muscles through his shirt.

“Wow! You have filled out.”

“I must have learned from you…” 

Steve looked you up and down when you heard a roar in your ear.

“Bunny!”

Bucky gave you a bear hug to where you couldn’t breathe. You pounded his back and punched him in the pecs when he let go. You caught your breath and then turned to Brock, whose eyes were shining.

“God, you’re grown up. You’re not my little Bunny anymore.”

“Shut up, stupid.”

You embraced your brother, surprised at your emotion. You were choking up, about to sob in his arms.

“I missed you.”

You whispered into his shirt.

“Missed you too, kid.”

You let him go and you dabbed at your eyes. You heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Sam standing next to you.

“Hey Sammy!”

You tried to make your voice light, so as not to betray your feelings. You’d replayed this moment in your mind a million times.

He was a man now. And damn. What a man. Tall, dark and handsome. But with that same smile. 

Sam tried to be cool. Brock was right. You weren’t little any more. A full grown woman. He tried to not check you out because he knew Brock was watching, but damn. You were beautiful. All over.

“Well? Can I get a hug?”

Sam unfroze himself.

“Of course.”

You seemed to melt into him, your breasts pressed against his chest, his lats seeming to mold around you. He could do this all day. 

When Sam opened his eyes, he saw Bucky’s raised eyebrow and he released you, stepping back and over to the table to try and pretend that all of his senses were not tuned on you.

“How’s Sarah?”

Sam smiled.

“Good. You should call her.”

You smiled back

“I will.”

Bucky interrupted.

“Tell me all about your socialite world, Ms.Y/L/N.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Rumlow ‘til I die.”

You locked eyes with Sam.

“Who does a girl have to screw to get a drink around here?”

You joked and the room fell silent.

“No one.” Brock deadpanned. “And you’ll wait another year until you’re legal.” 

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, like everything is legal up in here.”

It was just like old times: you giving them all hell. Although Sam’s hell was different now. 

Bucky handed you a bottle of water.

“Thanks Buck!” 

You sat and crossed your legs across from Sam and Brock.

“So. How’s things?”

You four talked for hours, ordering pizza from Sal’s and shooting the shit. It was almost midnight when they drew straws to see who would take you home. Sam drew the short straw. 

Lucky him.

You rode in the passenger seat of Sam’s BMW, arms folded across your chest, an adorable bratty pout on your delectable lips. He’d been watching that mouth all night, torturing himself with visions of those in various places on his body. He was getting hard. 

Sam stifled a moan which he tried to play off.

You jumped a little when he growled at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you, little girl?”

You turned toward him, mad.

“First of all, I’m not a little girl any more.”

“Yeah, Right.”

It sounded dismissive, but Sam was really just agreeing with you.

“Second of all, y’all really drew straws to take me home?”

You glared at him as he laughed at your outrage.

“I’m not the little tagalong from years ago. I didn’t even need you to take me home. I could call anyone to come get me. To come get this.”

You held up your flip phone and indicated your body. Sam’s dark eyes took you in and felt possessive. Holy shit, he was in deep. 

“I’m sure you got lots of hardheads after you.” 

Sam clenched his jaw and looked back at the road as he drove to The Village.

“We’re busy men, Bunny. We got important work to do. Brock will be working for a couple more hours, Bucky is running the streets, and Steve probably has a date right now…”

“At 1 am? You mean a booty call.”

Sam continued, ignoring you.

“But what will never change is us protecting you. We’re family, Bunny.”

You pushed his head and he glared at you.

“Same little boys is all I see. Important crimes, you mean.”

You huffed back into your seat, your breasts bouncing in your spandex dress. Sam fought to keep his eyes on the road.

“I’ll show you a little boy. Don’t try me, Bunny.”

You turned back to him, batting your eyes, but your attitude on 1000.

“I’d love to try you Sammy.”

Sam had the urge to take you by the throat and slide you up and down his dick, but he just squeezed the steering wheel harder, trying to ignore you. 

“Hey Sammy.”

He sideyed you. Your voice was too sweet.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, don’t be a prude. I drank all the time in Europe this summer.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t Europe, and I don’t give a fuck.”

You sat back in your seat, grumbling and frustrated. He would never see you as anything but little Bunny. By the time you got to campus, you didn’t even wait for Sam to park before you jumped out. He caught up with you, long legs gaining ground quickly. He grabbed your arm.

“Hey!”

“Let me go!”

You turned around and popped him in the nose by reflex.

“Shit!” 

Sam held his face and doubled over.

“Oh, my damn! I’m sorry Sammy. Let me see.”

“Stop…”

Sam pulled away from you and as his hands moved, blood spattered all over his shirt and the concrete below him.

“Oh no. Oh no. I’m so sorry.”

Sam was moving away.

“Just.. leave me alone. I’m okay…”

“No you’re not. I’m sorry Sammy. Come up to my place. Please. I’ll clean you up.”

Sam opened his watery eyes to see your remorseful face and let you lead him up to your apartment, up three flights of stairs. You took him immediately to the bathroom and you washed him up, giving him a wet washcloth and telling him to lean his head forward, indicating the toilet.

Sam sat down and did as he was told, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You sat on the floor below him and stared up at him, hugging your knees.

“I’m so so so so sorry Sammy…”

He looked at you, silent, and continuing to pinch his nose.

You stayed with him for 15 minutes until he stopped bleeding and stood up again, cleaning up a bit more. You felt so bad.

You stared at his shirt as he stood.

“Jeez, Sammy, take that shirt off, let me soak it.”

Sam remained silent, but took off his shirt.

You bent over to get some hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet, scrubbed the shirt a little, then soaked it in cold water.

Sam was watching your ass, almost feral at the fact that you were such a brat. You needed to be tamed. But you were Brock’s kid sister. He was so torn. 

“You can grab a sweatshirt out of my –” 

You turned around toward and stopped mid thought, mind blank at the sight of Sam’s shirtless form.

“Holy shit.”

Sam gave you a lopsided grin.

“You keep sweatshirts in your holy shit?”

You didn’t even hear the tease, just licked your lips as you stepped toward him.

“Sammy?”

Sam gulped and tried to calm down. But the look on your face was everything at the moment. He knew he probably should have, but he didn’t stop you as you entered his space. You reached your hand up to his nose.

“Are you ok?”

“I think so.” 

Sam reached up and manually shifted his nose. 

“Probably just broken for the third time. Been in a couple of scraps.”

Your fingers entwined with his and you brought them to your lips. Tears started to slide down your face.

“I’m sorry.”

Sam wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“Don’t cry. I’m ok.”

He pulled you in for a hug, and then leaned back.

As you looked up at him, he whispered, “So damn beautiful, Bunny…” 

Suddenly, he was kissing your face, collecting your salt water with his lips. Then, he pulled away.

“What are we doing?” 

You began to nuzzle his palm, while your hands reached for his pecs.

“Stop thinking so much, Sammy…”

“Thinking’s what got us into this..”

You nodded.

“D’you know how long I’ve been thinking about this?”

Your eyes followed your hands as they traced his chest, then his sternum down to his happy trail. His stomach clenched at the sensation. He was too far gone.

“How long?”

“From the first time someone tried to be with me sexually. I never really wanted to, I mean I’ve messed around, I can suck your soul out, but I’ve never wanted anyone inside of me.”

You were tracing his hard on outside of his pants, your face upturned now.

“Are you trying to say that…you’re…”

You nodded again.

“You were always in the back of my mind, Sam. I only want you.”

Sam tilted his head downward and captured your lips in a kiss, as though it were inevitable.

You both drew back and then your lips crashed together again, your bodies pressed up against each other urgently.

The kiss was everything you ever imagined and everything Sam didn't know that he wanted. Your hands went for his belt buckle. At that moment, Sam placed his hands on your arms and pushed you away from him.

“We can’t do this.”

You nodded, stepped back and took a deep breath.

“You’re right. You’re one of my brother’s best friends. No need for you to pop my cherry or anything.”

You two stared at each other. Then you licked your lips. Sam cocked his eyebrow, trying to restrain himself from the animalistic urges your filthy mouth gave him.

“You little brat.”

Sam grabbed your neck to pull you close to him. He reached down to pull your skirt up and he rubbed your ass like he was trying to shine it. He then put both hands on you to spread your cheeks apart. Your wetness was evident in the sound. You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed.

“Sounds like you really want this.”

For once in your life, you were speechless, and Sam reached down and angled your head up so he could look at you.

“I need you tonight Sam.”

You kissed him again and tried to get on your knees. But Sam stopped you and led you over to your bed.

“You’re the queen right now.”

You pulled off your dress and stood there in your bra and panties as Sam pulled you toward your bed to lay beside him, his hand caressing down the side of your body. 

He moved his fingers over the lace of your bra to find your nipple, and when it was discovered, he pinched it to see your reaction. The way your eyes closed halfway and your mouth opened was everything. He reached behind you to expertly unhook your bra and looked down on you.

“You're so beautiful.”

And he dipped his head running his tongue around the edges of your areola, making your nipple rock hard against his breath. Then, he started sucking in earnest, his huge hand going to tweak and play with the other. You threw your head back in earnest, the feeling in your cunt growing with each pull of his mouth. You started moaning.

“You mean to tell me…. That no one has ever… had the pleasure…”

Sam asked the important question between having his mouth on you. He couldn’t get enough.

You shook your head and furrowed your brow. It was taking you out of the moment. Sex was just a means to an end for you up until now.

“I suck them off, and they’re satisfied. S’not a big deal….. Ahhhhh.”

Sam stopped what he was doing to look into your eyes. 

“It is a big deal, Bunny. You deserve everything.”

Sam tenderly kissed your lips as he pulled your panties off, and then returned to your breasts. Tears slipped down your face to the pillow beneath your head as he finally parted your legs. His hand, led by his long middle finger slid down your wet, wet folds to play in your slick. 

“Mmmmmm. That’s that shit I like.” 

Sam rumbled in his chest, and the vibrations reached your nipple, causing you to arch into his mouth and hand. Sam’s fingers worked your clit and you could feel it get hard and plucky. You heard the sloshing wetness of your arousal. So did Sam. He pulled off to look at you again.

“You ever play with yourself?”

The look on his face was part possession and part genuine concern.

“Of course. But not this goooddddd…. Shit Sam. I just hit it and quit it…. Fuckkkk that feels good.”

Sam was plucking your nipple with one hand and rubbing your clit in expert circles with the other, watching the ecstasy on your face as you neared your peak. 

“C’mon for me now. Cum. right here in my hand…Yes…. That’s a girl…”

It hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Holy mother of……ssshhhhhhiiiiittttt! Sam! Fuckkkk fuck fuck fuck!”

You tried to grab his hand to move it away, but he was strong. Oh so strong. He didn’t stop.

“Sam… I… Sam stop..I can't…”

“You can, and you will. Take it. You’re tough. You can take it.” 

You convulsed as your pulses slowed down and you tried to relax.

“That’s a girl. Just give it to me. Let me have it. Love that shit. You’re beautiful right now, you know that?”

You calmed under his praise and got into the groove of his pleasure.

Sam’s fingers started exploring you, one of them sliding easily inside you, so he added another, but when he reached the second knuckle, you clamped down hard.

“Shit, Bunny. You’re so so tight.”

Sam looked at you with lust and you could feel his cock throbbing against your thigh, his precum making a mess.

“Thought that first one would have loosened you up. Looks like you need at least one more.”

Your eyes grew wide as he slid down your body, fingers still inside you, but now his mouth clamping around your clit, which was still sensitive. Your knees closed around his head and he pried them off with one hand.

“Take it Bunny. You deserve.”

It was the last thing he said before he destroyed your soul with his mouth. He licked and sucked and lapped, and his fingers slid inside you and curled the spark of pain muted by the fireworks behind your eyes as you came harder than you ever had in your life, including a few minutes earlier.

“Hnnnnh, hunnnnnnhh. Sam…”

He was kneeling up now, grabbing for his pants and a condom. When you saw the foil packet, you stopped him.

“No Sammy. Wanna feel you.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“Mom put me on the pill when I was 13. It’s like a vitamin now. I’m good.”

Sam nodded and his thumb went to your still vibrating clit as he swiped his head in your viscous slit. He managed to pop his thicker-than-you-thought head inside you, but you yelped in pain as he tried to slide in.

He leaned down, arms on either side of your head as you clutched his shoulders.

“You good?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes as you smiled.

“I want it, I need it. Give it to me.”

Sam looked at you, shook his head and smiled.

He slid inside you slowly, seeming to grow wider and longer with each inch that he gave you. The burning between your legs was soothed by his praise and tender kisses on your forehead.

“There you go.  Feels so so good for me Bunny. You’re doing so good. I can’t believe this… Make me wanna cum already. This pussy is so tight. And so good. Better than I’ve ever had…”

Sam relaxed you, and you began to enjoy that he was taking you apart. When your moans matched his thrusts was when he started to give it to you, his will power waning.

You were the epitome of desire.

He hiked your leg above his hip so that he could dig deeper and his thumb found your clit again.

“One more Bunny. Just one more…”

He felt you flutter around him and he gripped the base of his cock. 

“Sammy….”

“Yes… oh… fuck yes….”

“Ohhh! Ah!”

Your cream gushed around him as you came and Sam grunted and let go inside you.

“Fuuuuucckkkkkkkk aahhhhhhh ahhhh. Fuck!”

Sam felt like he his balls would never empty and he slumped on top of you, feeling your arms snake around him to hold him.

“Mmmm… Sammy.”

He could hear the smile in your voice. He leaned up off of you and kissed your nose, looking into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You smiled at him and Sam’s heart was gone. You had it locked up.

“Better than okay.”

He kissed you again.

“Stay right here.”

He went to the bathroom, coming backwith a washcloth and tenderly cleaned you up. You heard the bath running.

“You’re going to be sore.”

“Yes. I’m going to feel you for a week.”

Sam grinned and you saw his cock come to life. You smirked and gingerly moved ot get out of bed.

“Join me in the bathtub Sammy. Wanna try the wet and wild….”

Sam was hypnotized by the sway of your ass.

He didn’t think of the implications of what just happened. He’d had a taste, and his hunger was voracious. He just wanted you.

And that would become a problem.

Reblogging is always a good thing if you liked it.

[nancysandoval]

NANCY SANDOVAL ( 30. CIS WOMAN. SHE/HER ) is here! They’ve lived in Asbury Park for 3 MONTHS and are originally from NEW YORK CITY, NY. They are UNEMPLOYED and in their downtime love GIVING SHITTY LIFE ADVICE and PULLING THE FIVE-FINGER DISCOUNT. They look a lot like MAIKA MONROE and live at MEADOWLARK APARTMENTS. The song that makes people think of them the most is RAGE BY RICO NASTY.

THE BASICS:

FULL NAME: nancy elizabeth sandoval, née wright

NICKNAMES: nan, nance

GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman & she/her

AGE & BIRTHDAY: 30 & july 12, 1994

ZODIAC: ☼ cancer ☾ leo ↑ aries

BIRTHPLACE: carson city, nv

MBTI & ALIGNMENT: enfp & true neutral

+ TRAITS: headstrong, spontaneous, creative, flirtatious

- TRAITS: hedonistic, fickle, manipulative, pessimistic

RESIDENCE: meadowlark apartments

OCCUPATION: broke bitch :( - hit up her depop pls !!!!

LINKS: pinterest / playlist / tasks

BACKGROUND & DETAILS:

surface level: nancy is very messy, sometimes rude, and often nude

deep down: ......... that’s still pretty much accurate lmao

born in nevada, her parents met thanks to a chance encounter while her mom was researching for an upcoming book. nancy was an unexpected surprise in their lives, but fast-forward 5 years and they were sealing the deal, getting hitched in nyc where her mom had the gaudy, mega wedding of her dreams.

photographic evidence of nancy being an angelic flower girl DOES in fact exist

and, as her mother would say, "thank god it does, because you haven't been sweet since."

nancy's formative years were a blur of questionable choices and dangerous stunts, running amok in the streets of new york on her parents' dime and never once considering the consequences. attempts were made to rein her in; freezing credit cards, grounding her (lol), and making hollow threats of sending her away to bootcamp or boarding school.

nothing stuck. over and over, nancy ran to her dad for an easy bailout and extra cash, fueling the growing rift between her parents as they argued about her future.

for real the anthem of her teen years

she hurt herself, she fell in with the wrong crowds, she found drugs and lost her mind a little. an addiction to pills spiraled and worsened, graduating to cheaper and quicker highs as time went on. it was a miracle that she ever graduated high school, see-sawing between sobriety and oblivion while treating rehab like a casual hotel stay, but her mom made sure it happened.

this carried on into her twenties. living under her mother's thumb was not fun. even in a high-rise penthouse with zero "real world" concerns, nancy felt like she was choking on her short leash. no booze, no visitors, no privacy from her parents - what was the point in living?? she tried to keep busy by half-assing therapy sessions, taking up yoga, and delving deep into the world of online academia (just to rack up a bill for the 'rents), but eventually she snapped.

nancy packed her shit and ran away to california. she settled in silver lake, living there for a good three years, but an attempted career in food service had her backsliding into addictive habits. eventually, she checked herself into an in-patient facility with a promise from her dad that he'd be there to congratulate her when the 3 month stay ended.

.... and he was......... but so was his hot young girlfriend that nancy had regular fantasies about bludgeoning to death.

she threw the tantrum of the century, only resurfacing from her rage blackout when she'd driven halfway to new york by herself, and car trouble stranded her in colorado. feeling reckless and spiteful (and just a tiny bit terrified of turning 30), nancy did the most insane thing she could think of - and got married to a guy that she met at a gas station.

okay, she got to know him first...... sort of. enough to find out that his name was cooper sandoval and decide that she could live with that last name, too. sadly, it didn't last. their honeymoon phase inevitably wore off, nancy turned 30 and didn't wake up an old hag, so the most sensible thing to do was call it quits.

it was the dual incompetence of cooper and his family's lawyer that had nancy gunning it to jersey, having to sort through the legalities in person to end their less-than-a-year marriage. and once everything was signed and dotted, she just... didn't leave. she's near enough to nyc now that her mom can visit whenever she gets the itch to be overbearing, and hey! nancy was always a big fan of snooki, so jersey can't be all bad, right?

she's still lowkey desperate to prove her independence (to herself, to her parents, to the world), but she's not totally opposed to roommates or longtime houseguests!!

always picking up random hobbies to keep her hands & mind busy, though they rarely last. her latest kick has been tie-dyeing and bleaching old clothes, so best believe that her place reeks atm

loves to claim that she's a child of divorce when her parents legit split up after she was well into her 20s, but whatevaaahhh

she's hugely into high fantasy & horror - the gorier the better

probably has some fucked up (meaning: bad) hellraiser tattoos

has a knack for ruining relationships, even ones that aren't hers <3

smokes 24/7. even if she doesn't have a cigarette in hand, rest assured that she's mentally taking a drag

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

first and foremost, i love vibin’ off dash chem 💖 plz feel free to hmu at anytime for a completely random thread and i’ll jump!

neighbors  -  anyone else living at meadowlark apartments! nancy is really a terrible and noisy neighbor so yah, count me in for dumb vendettas

friends  -  THE most important connection okok. she’s been in town for ~3mo, which isn't all that long, but nancy's social ass would chat up anyone anywhere there's alcohol avail

work weirdness - nancy's currently unemployed and (kinda) looking for the work, so i wouldn't mind her already having a couple failed job interviews under her belt - or! someone who maybe put in a good word for her somewhere

one night stand / fwb / etc.  -  nancy’s a hoor so yakno.... can be something antagonistic too! luv the idea of a hook-up gone wrong ngl

fellow addicts  -  “recovered” or not. she doesn’t go often, but now and then nancy finds comfort in going to the occasional aa / na meeting. can’t get enough of listening to middle-aged men detail how they ruined their lives - really makes a girl feel good about her own shitty choices 💕

a mentor / unlikely friend  -  idk exactly what i mean by this lmfao, but i’m imagining someone older (or honestly, her age & just more settled) who does not run in the same circles in the slightest, but something just Clicks between them. a good influence really

a square  -  flipside of the last idea: someone nancy gets to corrupt <3

[imminentinertia]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

@telomeke tagged me, and I enjoyed your post <3

do you make your bed?

In the morning, I fluff my pillow and turn down the duvet to air the mattress. Fitted sheet doesn't move much around.

what's your favourite number?

21 (if you know, you know)

what is your job?

I'm a [redacted] at [redacted], mostly working with [redacted] and [redacted], and my going to Vienna a lot has nothing to do with Vienna up until recent years being the spy capital of the world.

if you could go back to school, would you?

Depends. I will maim anyone trying to send me back to primary or lower secondary, but if I could bring all I know now, I'd be back in upper secondary before you could say "the dawn of the slut era". I had a lot of fun those years, and I loved so many of my teachers and subjects.

can you parallel park?

I don't have a driver's licence, and parallel parking isn't part of my limited knowledge of driving a car.

a job you had that would surprise people?

I'm pretty certain people who know me and know how much I hate talking to random strangers think being a salesperson is wildly out of character for me, but I was honestly good at it. It helped a lot that I was selling something people need (insurance).

do you think aliens are real?

I find it difficult to believe that we *gesticulates wildly* are the only sentient beings in the universe. Come the fuck on.

can you drive a manual car?

No. Not a non-manual car either.

what's your guilty pleasure?

It's taken me years to get there, but I no longer feel guilty about anything I enjoy. I regret it when I scarf down an entire bag of Olw Cheez Ballz, but that has mostly to do with being uncomfortably full.

tattoos?

I don't have any, I've been dithering about that my entire adult life, but I'm interested in the cultural history and expression of tattoos and I love rather a lot of tattoo styles.

favorite color?

Dark teals, silver, light sage green tones.

favorite type of music?

Ahaha. Well. Anything that makes my brain buzz? What I've come to realise is that I need something from music that resists me a bit, something jagged, sinister, haunting or filthy. Something that's not a dime a dozen. Something a bit spiky. Like this new song from Beth Gibbons.

do you like puzzles?

YES I DO INDEED. Any sort. This is where almost all of my possibilities for addiction live.

any phobias?

All out phobias, I don't really know. I have phobic reactions to some insects and body fluids and any sort of injury to eyes and nails (ridiculously specific, this).

favorite childhood sport?

Ew no. Ballet kid in rabid handball/football territory, I developed allergies to sports in general. Okay, I played and enjoyed badminton, to be fair.

do you talk to yourself?

Oh yes. Sometimes out loud. In several languages.

what movies do you adore?

Can I do a separate post on this? To name a few: The Fall, Gosford Park, The Handmaiden, Some Like It Hot, Thelma, Immortel, Pojkarna, Das Leben der Anderen

coffee or tea?

Ooooh depends. I love so many hot and iced coffee drinks, and iced matcha with oat milk, and black strong tea, and tisanes omg, and and and I think I need another lungo with a splash of milk. Coffee maybe wins?

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

An archaeologist. I blame reading several books by Thor Heyerdahl as a child.

As usual, if you've read this far I pronounce you tagged (please tag me if you do the post, I'm curious).

[tobiasdrake]

We have taken control of the Sky Base. Now. Uh. Now what do we do with it?

I promised I'd let you guys try and figure out a way to turn the climate regulators back on but I gotta be honest, I am itching to start breaking things.

I will try to be patient but I don't know how much time I can promise.

Would it help if I rammed my staff through the console? I've been told that sometimes that turns machines off for some reason.

It looks like there's a slidey lever on the side here. Maybe it's, like, the Cloud Cover Lever and all we need to do is slide it do--

Serai: *swats hand*

But how are we supposed to know what it does if we don't pull it?

It's sounding more and more like wanton vandalism is going to be our best option.

We could, and I'm just spitballing here, but we could take the speedball back to the ship and grab Yolande. She's an endless barrel of explosives. I'm sure she can make enough bombs to turn this entire facility into the brightest fireworks display your world has ever seen.

Okay, but you came out of the Catalyst so if I don't like what I hear, Zale and I are taking you out into the hall to play kickball. It will buy the smart people more time to figure out a way to crack security.

It was mentioned that the Catalyst overtook the existing AI that was controlling the climate regulator. I guess this is them.

...

Well, you blew it. Come with me, Kickball.

Yeah. We know. We just found that out the hard way. Are you actually useful for anything? Because my patience is running thin.

TEAKS DID YOU JUST MAGIC BOOK THEIR ENTIRE DATABASE I WILL KISS YOU ON THE MOUTH HAHAHAHAHAHA

Okay, I guess Kickball was useful for something! What have we got? Anything we can use to disable and/or explode the station? Gimme gimme gimme.

That's hurtful, Cedric. Accurate, but hurtful.

Setting my own ego aside for a moment, there are exactly three people I consider to be super mega ultra smart and they're all in this room right now. Where are we supposed to find--

Those are children, Zale. Don't be stupid.

Centuries-old immortal children.

Centuries-old immortal child engineers.

...

...

...

Oh, shit. GUYS. I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING. What about Cael at the Clockwork Castle!? He and his team are brilliant. You remember that shit they made for the Eclipse!? They could crack this in no time!

They can't leave the castle without instantly decaying into vapor, so I guess Kickball's coming with us. But don't. Do. Things. Your one and only remaining function is terrible and you're not allowed to ever use it, under penalty of finding out how fragile that orange glass bit truly is. That's the rule.

I suppose it's time to return to our own world. To the Clockwork Castle, to take care of some very important business.

YES, now Repine can discover the joys of intense gambling addiction. My hobby is spreading like a virus.

...oh, I guess we should also go chat up the kids while we're here, huh?

He'd understand. Thank you.

Listen, we have something very important to talk to you about so please try to focus and don't get distracted by the impossibly cool cyborg.

...or the soul-infused golem made from the mythical Living Glass.

...or the animate puppet infused with godly magic....

...

You know what? Zale and I will find something to busy ourselves with for about a day while y'all nerd out and then we can come back to this.

O.O TEAKS WHAT

...

OKAY. I. Thought. You'd be more protective of your magic journal than that.

...

Good on you for pragmatism!

I mean, most of the people I would consider "friends" are either part of our crew or part of the Vespertine crew. But I would like to take some time to recap what's happened for Garl.

And maybe spend some time pounding on TIA's door. Fucker thinks he can just portal away from me? I know where you live, asshole, and I can crank the obnoxiousness up to 11 on a dime. He is going to share his feelings and talk things through or so help me.

I foresee great things happening with those secrets in these hands. I eagerly anticipate what they'll create.

[thenixkat]

Clipping - Blood of the Fang

[Intro: Sam Waymon] By the Christians, it is written that in the black Myrthian age There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood, blood

[Verse 1: Daveed Diggs & Sam Waymon] Drink it up Fifty years 'bout enough Time to come back (Blood, blood) They want to call the bluff Okay, then Time to come back (What up!) (Blood) Hail King Huey Do it for fluid, you knew it was movin' forever Loop it, the truth is, the movement was really too clever Who is the newest to do it, pursuing a useless, polluted agenda? Too long to get they bullshit together Fifty years 'bout enough (Blood) Patient, gave 'em a two-year grace '6-6 came, and they saw the true face Black on black on black, irate Had 'em all runnin' scared straight out the gate Skin do show you who kin; that's it, though What's inside never been too simple Syrup, he sip, 'cause he can't taste his own (Blood) Drink it up, drink it up, you belong in every milliliter of They tried to take out every military leader, but You was born to be a martyr And it doesn't mean a thing because that body really meat Fill it up, your history is one you might consider killing for This ain't the shit they taught you when you went to kindergarten What you need to know is in the (Blood)

[Pre-Chorus 1: Daveed Diggs] Queen Angela done told y'all, "Grasp at the root" So what y'all talkin' 'bout—"Hands up, don't shoot"?

[Chorus: Bongili Girls' Chorus & Daveed Diggs] Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look back, blood on the ground Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look straight, they still shootin' Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Jump back, still here Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Now, what that tell you 'bout death? Death ain't shit, you got to

[Post-Chorus: Daveed Diggs & Sam Waymon] Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up

[Verse 2: Daveed Diggs & Sam Waymon] Fist in the sky if you ready Dice a ofay like confetti, they thought you was playin' Though really the game was more trainin' There finna be (Blood) And much of it blue Time to fly, 'cause you know time fickle So cold, finna snow, swing a icicle Takin' out a police or a politician issuing a statement sayin' Turn it on a dime or get the nickel And it ain't just money, B, this ain't honey Sweet, but it's funny to think of them wantin' to speak When this pain is deep and ingrained in (Blood) Drink it up, dress it down Queen shit, wear the crown, King shit, wear the wounds New blood in the wombs Loose noose, clear the tombs, bubblegoose, suede shoes Lookin' like a who's who of the dead Come back, bust a head, run track to the red Black suit, black hair, black wings, black stare Blackout for the (Blood) (Button up, bruh) Actin' a fool was just acting You knew about adapting since dudes started tappin' And in the dark, flapping the full moon Asking if you knew the passion that grew when unmasked Because they were never seein' the basics Geronimo, Erika, Gregory With they faces in every book, record, or CD Even made the MP3s laced with (Blood)

[Pre-Chorus 2: Daveed Diggs] Brother Malcolm done told y'all, "By any means" So what y'all talkin' 'bout—"All on the same team"?

[Chorus: Bongili Girls' Chorus & Daveed Diggs] Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look back, blood on the ground Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look straight, they still shootin' Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Jump back, still here Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Now, what that tell you 'bout death? Death ain't shit, you got to

[Post-Chorus: Daveed Diggs & Sam Waymon] Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up

[Verse 3: Daveed Diggs] Everybody wanna kill a movement 'fore the moment But they cannot kill what cannot die There wasn't ever really an opponent For what they figured was only three-fifth-human And they thought they could enslave By disconnecting from the truth But look at Brother George He's back again and never did look finer Said it's time to gather up another meeting of the Ina Said that Quentin couldn't kill him and America can't either And he been sleepin' since '71 Ain't it time to feed, or at least sip a little sum'n? He up in the Cadillac with little Bobby Hutton Ridin' shotty with the shotty, swoopin' up the cousins They soo-woopin' for your blood That Bobby Seale is on the door When they regroup up at the club And Brother Eldridge is keepin' souls on ice 'Til the time was just right, now suffices Emory got the scene drawn up nice And Afeni here with Pac, yep, thug life Kathleen, "Black and Beautiful" as the motto Assata up in here sippin' a bloody café cubano With Hilliard on the seat next to her babysittin' the ralo Waitin' for Heron to say somethin' fly for them all to follow Into the night, let it swallow, eyes on the sparrow tomorrow You know the marrow is hollow and light as air And the call is out to the rest And this model of effervescence when all of it manifested They never bothered to question While calling for the arrest and murder Guess they never knew it was a test To best assess the way to move in And digest the flesh of every wicked human 'Til the best and blackest blood is back to ruling

[Pre-Chorus 3: Daveed Diggs] Prince Stokely done told y'all, "Have no fear" So how come every time they be like, "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!" Y'all look scared?

[Chorus: Bongili Girls' Chorus & Daveed Diggs] Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look back, blood on the ground Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Look straight, they still shootin' Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Jump back, still here Aw deeyanga, aw deeyanga Now what that tell you 'bout death? Death ain't shit, you got to

[Post-Chorus: Daveed Diggs & Sam Waymon] Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood) Drink it up, drink it up Drink it up, drink it up (There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood, among its people)

[seastarlily]

Random thought is random, but I always did like how many SpongeBob episodes dealt with certain themes and taught helpful lessons without being completely in your face.

Season 1

“Ripped Pants” - being yourself

“Home Sweet Pineapple” - homelessness

“Pickles” - anxiety

“Hall Monitor” - mishandling of responsibilities

“Jellyfish Jam” - the dangers of keeping a wild animal as a pet

“Sandy’s Rocket” - paranoia

“Nature Pants” - being happy as you are, where you are

“F.U.N.” - trying to see the good in others, even if they don’t seem like the best person

“MuscleBob BuffPants” - body image and self-esteem

"Employee of the Month" - the dangers of excessive competitiveness

"Karate Choppers" - obsessiveness

"Suds" - the dangers of self-medicating

"Rock Bottom" - being lost in an unfamiliar town

"Texas" - homesickness

"Fools in April" - learning when a joke is no longer a joke or goes too far

"Hooky" - temptation and playing in dangerous places

Season 2 

"Your Shoe's Untied" - confidence issues and learning new skills

"Squid's Day Off" - OCD

"Big Pink Loser" - being yourself and knowing your worth

"Dying for Pie" - living in the moment

"Wormy" - metamorphosis and how a misunderstanding can snowball into absolute chaos

"Patty Hype" - dealing with people doubting your passions and starting your own successful business

"Grandma's Kisses" - bullying

"Squidville" - monotony

"Prehibernation Week" - the dangers of living dangerously

"Dumped" - breakups

"Squirrel Jokes" - racism/xenophobia and harmful stereotyping

"Pressure" - superiority complexes

"The Smoking Peanut" - lying

"Welcome to the Chum Bucket" - separation from those you love and dealing with a bad boss 

"Band Geeks" - teaming up to triumph against all odds

"Krusty Love" - dating at an older age

"Procrastination" - exactly what it says in the title, LOL

"Jellyfish Hunter" - overhunting and animal cruelty

"The Fry Cook Games" - harmful competitiveness 

"Squid on Strike" - going on strike

Season 3

"The Algae's Always Greener" - envy and how having the life of someone else isn’t always as glamorous as it looks

"SpongeGuard on Duty" - lying about who you are 

"My Pretty Seahorse" - mishandling of a wild animal

"Just One Bite" - addiction

"The Bully" - bullying

“Nasty Patty” - murder

"Idiot Box" - the importance and sheer power of having an imagination

"Snowball Effect" - letting go of restrictions and having fun

"As Seen on TV" - the dangers of having a huge ego

"Can You Spare a Dime?" - unemployment and dealing with a moocher

"Rock-a-Bye Bivalve" - raising a child

"Party Pooper Pants" - learning that not everything has to be by the book

"Chocolate with Nuts" - lying and false advertisement

"The Great Snail Race" - overworking your pet

"Mid-Life Crustacean" - mid-life crises

"Born Again Krabs" - near-death experiences

"I Had an Accident" - PTSD

"Missing Identity" - identity theft/loss

Season 4

"Fear of a Krabby Patty" - overworking and sleep deprivation

"Shell of a Man" - lying to old friends and self-respect

"Have You Seen This Snail?" - animal neglect and runaway pets

"Skill Crane" - obsessiveness and gambling

"Selling Out" - getting old/retirement

"Patrick SmartPants" - personality changes and their effects on friendship

"New Leaf" - moving on with life

"Bummer Vacation" - workaholism

"The Pink Purloiner" - jumping to conclusions

"Best Day Ever" - dealing with inconveniences and learning to embrace the best parts of every day

Season Five

"Friend or Foe" - the foraging and breaking of a lifelong friendship

"The Original Fry Cook" - perfectionism and comparing yourself to others

"Fungus Among Us" - pandemics, disease, and quarantine

"Roller Cowards" - overcoming fear

"Money Talks" - being careful with what you wish for

"The Krusty Sponge" - commercialism

"Blackened Sponge" - lying and dignity

"Banned in Bikini Bottom" - speakeasies 

"Stanley S. SquarePants" - finding your talent

Season Six

"Penny Foolish" - obsessiveness

"Not Normal" - being yourself and embracing your quirks

"A Life in a Day” - living in the now while not living too dangerously

"The Krabby Kronicle" - misinformation and sensationalism

"Grooming Gary" - mistreatment of pets

"Porous Pockets" - the overlooked aspects of being part of the upper crust

"Ditchin'" - skipping school

"Grandpappy the Pirate" - lying to family 

"Overbooked" - commitments and learning to say no

"No Hat for Pat" - finding purpose and employee mistreatment

Season Seven

"Greasy Buffoons" - unhealthy food

"SpongeBob's Last Stand" - environmental destruction

"Sponge-Cano!" - having gratitude

"Karate Star" - obsessiveness and abuse of power

"The Abrasive Side" - assertiveness

Season Eight

"The Other Patty" - cooperation

"The Hot Shot" - bad influences

"Sentimental Sponge" - hoarding

"Are You Happy Now?" - depression

Season Nine

"Squid Defense" - self-defense and when not to use it

"Lost in Bikini Bottom" - getting lost and finding your way back

"What's Eating Patrick?" - finding motivation

"Goodbye, Krabby Patty?" - greed and commercialism

"Bulletin Board" - online harassment

"Snail Mail" - lying

"Salsa Imbecilicus" - the importance of having an education

"The Whole Tooth" - dental problems and not being afraid to see the dentist

Season Ten

"Mimic Madness" - being yourself

"House Worming" - infestations

"SpongeBob's Place" - pride and jealousy

"Life Insurance" - learning what life insurance is and that having it doesn’t necessarily protect you

"Trident Trouble" - misuse of great power

"Sportz?" - sadism

"Out of the Picture" - attempted murder and the value of art

"Feral Friends" - looking after others when they’re in no state to look after themselves

Season Eleven

"The Check-Up" - the importance of check-ups and the consequences of neglecting your health

"Larry the Floor Manager" - learning that not everyone is suited for the same job

"Stuck on the Roof" - acrophobia

"Don't Feed the Clowns" - finding a new job

"Fun-Sized Friends" - the importance of having alone time away from your friends

"Grandmum's the Word" - lying to family

"Moving Bubble Bass" - freeloading and not being paid your dues

"Whale Watching" - babysitting and teenage peer pressure

"ChefBob" - stage fright and personas "Plankton Paranoia" - paranoia, terror, and panic attacks

"Appointment TV" - returning favors and cheering up a sad friend

"Girls' Night Out" - female friendship

Season Twelve

"Gary's Got Legs" - learning that things are the way they are for a reason

"Stormy Weather" - not messing with nature

"The Krusty Bucket" - cooperation 

"Squid's on a Bus" - walking in another person’s shoes

"Broken Alarm" - oversleeping

"Karen's Baby" - raising a child

"SpongeBob's Bad Habit" - bad habits

"Breakin'" - the importance of taking a break every so often

"Boss for a Day" - the responsibilities that come with being a boss

"The Goofy Newbie" - starting a new job

"Pat Hearts Squid" - being yourself

"Hiccup Plague" - communicable diseases

"The Hankering" - addiction

"Escape from Beneath Glove World" - getting lost and helping a lost child

[mayamistake]

In 1947, Bill Gaines inherited EC Comics, a new venture founded by his legendary father M. C. Gaines, who was responsible for midwifing the birth of the comic book as we know it during his tenure at All-American Comics, bringing the likes of Wonder Woman and Green Lantern to the world. Over the next eight years, Bill Gaines and a “who’s who” of the era including Al Feldstein, Harvey Kurtzman, and Wally Wood would reinvent the very notion of the comic book with titles like Tales from the Crypt, Crime SuspenStories, Weird Science, and MAD. EC delighted in publishing gory, morbid horror and crime comics that had snap, ironic endings—but they also pioneered the first true-to-life war comics, the first “real” science-fiction stories, and a series of tales about such then-taboo subjects as racism, bigotry, vigilantism, drug addiction, police corruption, and anti-Semitism. Too good to last, they were eventually caught up by various 1950s guardians of morality, who were convinced that EC’s often over-the-top content was causing juvenile delinquency. A year or so after a full inquiry investigating horror and crime comics, the incredible EC Comics were no more. TASCHEN presents the full, fascinating story of this fabled company, written and expertly curated by EC-authority Grant Geissman. Even the most die-hard EC Fan-Addicts will find something new within these pages, with the Gaines family archives providing more than 100 rarities that have never seen print. Many of the cover images are reproduced from Gaines File Copies, which are widely regarded as the best surviving copies of the EC Comics. Gathering more than 1,000 illustrations that include the rarest and most notorious covers, interior pages and panels, photos, vintage original artwork, and some of the most celebrated stories ever to be printed in four colors for a dime, this is the ultimate EC Comics compendium and a must-have for any comics enthusiast or pop culture historian.

[disreputes]

𓏲  *   ( darren  barnet,  cis  man,  he & his  )   ⸺   pictures  of  JAIME  BLUE  ‘JB’  LINCOLN,  the  thirty-one  year  old  musician, has  been  showing  up  all  over  my  feed,  and  considering  the  last  time  they  were  #trending,  it  was  due  to  the  rumours  of  his  former  boy  band  reuniting  -  i’m  not  likely  to  unfollow  anytime  soon.  with  their  levi’s  sherpa-lined  demin  jacket,   grey  plaid  flannel  shirt,  black  comme  des  garcons  homme  tailored  trousers,  and  a  pair  of  scuffed  off-white  sneakers,  they’ve  managed  to  garner  a  reputation  for  being  more  mature  than  stubborn. their  critics  say  they’re  more  unstable  than  conscientious when  they  aren’t  too  busy  focusing  on  his  overflowing  and  coffee-stained  song-writing book  ;  late-night  shows  in  seedy  underground  bars  ;  and  a  calm  morning  spent  in  the  middle  of  nowhere.  reputation.com  has  taken  to  calling  them  THE LEADER in  order  to  avoid  a  lawsuit  (  again  ).

basic information

FULL NAME: jaime blue lincoln NICKNAME: JB AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: thirty-one & december 24th (sagittarius) GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis-man & he/his BIRTHPLACE: maryland, usa OCCUPATION: singer-songwriter FACECLAIM: darren barnet CHARACTER PARALLELS: michael bluth (arrested development), frankie bergstein (grace and frankie), mother's milk (the boys), chase dreams (the other two), natalie (yellowjackets)

biography

tw addiction

PART ONE.

some people were always meant to be famous. there are countless home videos of a young jaime blue lincoln singing and dancing along to the "beat it" that proved just as much. what began as living room performances and talent show stages quickly turned into appearances on maryland's daytime talk shows. jb was a local celebrity before even hitting the fourth grade—not that he ever really went to school. what's the use of learning cursive when you've already perfected the art of signing your autograph for adoring fans?

a wedding performance of a stevie wonder song here and a rendition of the national anthem there soon caught the attention of agents eager to sign jb onto their label. while his mother was skeptical of letting her son join the music industry, years spent on vocal lessons and dance rehearsals made it clear that their family was in no position to turn down a contract. at 14, jb became the breadwinner for his family of five as an up-and-coming popstar

that was, until, his debut album came and went without so much as a blip on the radar. his once-promising career was met with a lukewarm reception and was quickly swept under the rug for bigger and better things. his rising star faded away into obscurity, barely making its way past state lines

so, life went back to normal for jb—whatever that looked like. while he still did the occasional gig, he ignored the voice in the back of his head goading him into trying one more time. no, he'd shoved the thought of it away alongside the unsold copies of his album

as the years went by, jb having prepared for college at that point, it was a surprise to everyone when he heard from his old manager. that he was putting a group together and jb was on the shortlist. he didn't think it would amount to anything, but could a few auditions really hurt? the voice, the one he spent so much time ignoring, was deafening now. a few months later, jb traded in his college dorm for an apartment paid for on management's dime

PART TWO.

things moved quickly after that. their debut appearance on the today show, unpolished as it was, garnered a following for the band. this support helped skyrocket their lead single “what makes you beautiful” to the top of the charts. truth be told, overnight success was an understatement. they landed a record deal, a debut studio album, and an ellen show performance all within the span of a few months. jb, barely an adult, found himself headlining a national tour—finally living out the fantasy he’d imagined as a kid

the album cycle was endless. they’d step foot out of their tour bus just to end up at yet another recording session or award show. as much as it excited jb, he couldn’t wait until he got to sleep in a bed that actually belonged to him. but when the dust finally settled, going back to his hometown felt more foreign to him than being on the road. the call came for the boys to return to california and jb couldn’t get out of maryland fast enough

“treasure” hit number one globally and their second studio album came out just shy of a year from their first. the pressure was mounting from all sides and jb found himself putting out fires both in and outside of the group. spending hours cooped up in a tour bus with four random strangers would do that to a guy. he put it upon himself to look out for the other boys, stubborn as he was, and made sure to lend a shoulder to lean on when times got tough. jb might not have known it then, but he did his best to keep the group in one piece

and so it went. a third record-breaking album and international tour was nothing if not expected. could anyone really blame them for their egos when they had the numbers to back it up? could anyone blame him for the partying when he’d spent the rest of the time working his ass off? looking after the band despite the mounting tension that had started to get to him. jb didn’t know when the drugs and drinking got to be a problem—only that he had to do a damn good job of keeping it under wraps

for the first time in his life, jb had an honest-to-god writing credit to his name with their fourth album. tired of the bubblegum pop and r&b, the group’s musical direction had been toned down. as proud as he was for his involvement in the music, jb barely remembered those moments. his addiction had taken a toll and was only made worse by the overwhelming pressure for the group to somehow surpass the achievements they had broken. the voice in the back of his head that had always told him to go after more was now louder than ever

“you’re out of the band”—the words jb never thought he would hear. his manager had brought the boys into a meeting to let them know that jb would be leaving, that his problems with drugs and alcohol would only bring the rest of them down. he should have seen it coming in hindsight, but the news hit him like a runaway train. jb was gutted. just as they were getting ready to announce his departure, THE BAD BOY had gone ahead and stated that he would be leaving the group in the middle of their fourth tour. with the constant infighting and burnout over the years, no one put it against him

of course that meant jb wasn’t going anywhere. they continued the tour as a four-piece set and released their fifth and final album after having edited their former member out. devastating millions of teenagers around the world, the band announced a hiatus when their tour ended. jb took the break-up as if he had caused it himself—who’s to say he didn’t? his addiction got the better of him. finally free for once in his life, he wanted nothing more than someone to tell him what to do

PART THREE.

sobering up was a near-impossible feat. every milestone he reached was reported on by the tabloids and every visit he made to his counselor was tweeted out as if it were breaking news. he never was the most famous member of the band, but they followed him as if his life was on display 

while everyone else began working on their solo careers, jb moved out to tennessee to focus on his sobriety. there, he jumped headfirst into songwriting as a distraction. it allowed him to figure out what kind of music he wanted to make now that he was out of the spotlight 

he quietly released two albums since the break-up, mostly about his struggles with addiction and fame. the seedy bars and venues he plays now are ant hills compared to the arenas he toured, but he loves his following nonetheless 

jb heard the rumours circulating about the reunion and found himself at a crossroads. though he’s sober and holds no ill will towards the other members, there’s still the risk of falling into old habits and ruining the quiet life he nurtured for himself. the stress alone might just kill him this time around. but, funds are running low—funding your own musical ventures and taking care of your family doesn’t come cheap. that voice? the one in the back of his head? it’s been a long time since he’s listened to it, but he’d be lying if he said that he shut it up for good

[justagalwhowrites]

Hello, me again bestie.

This ask is a little different than my usual though.

I will be spending several hours on a plane tomorrow. This is where I wish I had some self-control and didn't read everything the minute it's posted. I will definitely be finishing Beskar Doll. I'm soooo sorry it's taken me forever. Don't get me wrong I love Din but he definitely takes a back seat to Joel.

Anyways, back to the point of my ask before I started rambling. By the time I board tomorrow I will have finished all of my ARC reads and my TBR is way too overwhelming to even know where to begin. So I'm wondering if you have any book recs? If you have any fic recs that are long enough to keep me occupied most of the trip I will take those too.

I hope you have a great day!

Hi Bestie!

Omg please do not apologize for not finishing one of my fics lol I’m just thrilled you read them at all!! I hope you love it!!

As for book recs, I’ve been really into Taylor Jenkins-Reid this year. I read Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo in a day and Daisy Jones and the Six in two, I just couldn’t put them down! I’m also a sucker for anything by Gillian Flynn, Sharp Objects in particular. I read Corinne by Rebecca Morrow in like a day, too. Also really good, about a woman finding herself as she leaves a borderline cult religious group.

Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk is another favorite. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng, American Gods by Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere (also Neil Gaiman), Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Loathe as I am to suggest Rowling to anybody but the first few books of her Cormoran Strike series (under the pen name Robert Galbraith) are great if you can get a ✨free✨ download to not spend any money because fuck that woman (I haven’t read the last few because fuck that woman and also apparently no one reels her in during editing anymore and the recent ones reportedly sucked.) If you are/were a Twilight girlie, Stephenie Meyer’s The Chemist (it’s a thriller for adults) is somewhat addictive!

For non-fiction, the Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama was a fascinating read, especially in the context of a post-insurrection world. Anything by Jon Krakauer - Missoula in particular but I also did a huge paper for a capstone project in college on SA so grain of salt and all the trigger warnings. I also go through phases of being really into random historical things and I read a fascinating book on Chernobyl a few years ago that I think about often (Chernobyl by Serhii Plokhy). Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich made me want to become a journalist and I adored Waiting: True Confessions of a Waitress by Debra Ginsberg. Candy Girl by Diablo Cody was also great.

Sorry, I know that’s a lot!!! I hope some sound interesting and that you have a fabulous trip, bestie!!! Love you!

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Sunday six-ish

This life (6/?) When life turns on a dime.

Book: Open Heart (Pre series)

Pairing/s: Ethan Ramsey x Naveen Banerji (platonic)

Ethan Ramsey x Harper Emery

Warnings: **** Trigger warning- this series deals with issues of abandonment and addiction- reader discretion advised.****

Sexual references

Rating: Mature

Summary: Ethan is now an attending and his career is going from strength to strength but not all is as it seems.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry

☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️

They arrived back and met for dinner at Ethan’s new apartment. Ethan decided to be blunt and ask if his actions at the conference had ruined their friendship. Harper knew how much their friendship meant to him so she understood where his head was at.

“In all honesty, No. Yes, we did have sex, but we are both consenting adults, I would be lying if the thought had not crossed my mind on multiple occasions.”

“I have too,” admitted Ethan, “however, we broke up because you were falling in love with me and I was not there.”

“We do not need to be in love to have sex Ethan”

“I know Harper, I think we proved that multiple times at the conference but you also deserve more than being an arrangement.”

“Ethan, you know how busy we both are, we have little time for not much else, granted I think some of it is by design but we are human, which means we have urges that need taking care of..”

“I get that Harper, but I respect you too much to have some arrangement, and also being human means we have feelings, what is to say they will play a part in the future, it will get messy Harper. Our friendship means that much…”

“I know, it means that much to me too, I get you respect me and that is why I think we can do this. We know and respect each other, we can end and start things as we please, before feelings get involved.”

Authors note: the beginning of the on again/ off again arrangement.

Tagging: @potionsprefect @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @liaromancewriter

@choicesficwriterscreations

[sciligraphy]

+A Printer’s Preface+

By: Tom E The Printer

In Summation…

This preface has one more question?

What is the Sound of

These Keys to Victory

Unlocking the Previously

Shut Door?

Well

In Order to discover it

I must break through the stall stage

By Sending in the Finisher =

I am a Printer.

I ink the final steps of the relay race.

By Translating what’s still stuck on the basepath, still stuck inside this American Inscriber’s previously unpublished lot=

#Sciligraphy and the #IttoNet

A Colorful, Eclectic, Electric, Eccentric Geniuinely Creative Collection Of Originals Made By Me •

a previous incomplete

unknown to the internet audience of the

Ww. World

I am a previous unknown

Now A Rolling Stone

That the builders previously refused

Who published more frequently on the internet and especially the PRINT PAGE

When I was between

The prolific ages of 15 through 22

And since the First Bell of December 2008 =

My 23rd & A Half Birthday Zone

I have started and ended

Each and every month

Still stuck on

A frustrating streak

that has a dry history of lasting

From All of 2009 through All of 2023

And Now

Thus Far throughout all of

2024’s Winter & Spring Season

On the Northern Hemisphere

Since it Has Already Passed

Has Also come and gone

Without Me

Publishing A Single Work of More than

999 Words

Sans a couple of less selling derivations of my original Book with an ISBN Number =

Up ALL NIGHT { March 19, 2007 }

During the last 2 Decades of World History.

Why?

Because you stopped writing?

These 2 million words

In the Last Quadrennial Alone

Suggest Otherwise

Yet in the Public Domain

I’ve continued to

Refrain

From Sharing

My Trance A Lot

Until When?

Oh, when your eyes can see what I just said.

Signed,

Tom E True

PS,

Dear Initial Receiving Round Audience,

Meet #Sciligraphy =

The Best Of What

Tom’s Orange Electric Company =

A Phone To Table…

American Lit Creative Writing Company

Can Text in coherent units of

addictive reading material

Where

I am

Pasting Silver Dimes

By pressing ENTER,

turning the skeleton key

that unlocks

the Writing

that Translates Me

Onto the

Www. Eyes of the World

For the first time

Since W Was President.

Signed,

Tom E Scils

On

Thursday June 20th 2024 ANNO DOMINI

Now Watch This #TumblrStorm

and

Read this Quixotic Wind Mill Dunk of a Goal or Not

either way

My Nu American Inscriber’s Seasonal Goal =

To Publish A Minimum of

1 Million Words..

#This Summer

In Order to

To Complete the

#MillionWordMarch

Printer’s Clearing House Challenge

Track My Progress or Note

At Www.Scilipesci.Com

One Footnote,

No Robots were used in the making of this

preface nor library.

Because this is #Sciligraphy

[thecatsreaderslibrary]

Cat Is Now Featured on All-Author! An In-Depth Interview About Being An Author, Writer, Recovery Expert, & A Book Marketing Guru. . .

Catherine Townsend-Lyon is an influential writer known for her gripping memoir, “Addicted To Dimes,” and her contributions to the recovery compilation book “Ten The Hard Way: Real Voices of Recovery.” A dynamic speaker, she shares her story through various platforms, including radio shows, podcasts, and speaking engagements. Catherine currently resides in Glendale/Phoenix, Arizona.** Interview…

[kevinlemnah]

Official lyrics composed produced and published

#kevinlemnah #certifiedgoatkiller

No, pretending

Goatmoneygang

Davy Fresh

Just know, Kevin’s trying to get fresh

Call me my best

Maybe I’m just looking for a new beginning

See me winning

Nothing fresher than brand new white tee

So see me

Maybe I’ll go buy some new white tees

It’s in Kevin’s budget

But hear my rap

I think my budget

Is it looking like a black card?

Shuffle the deck

Give me my cards

I’m playing to win

Do you think I’ll win

Time will tell

Do you know Drugs sell

Fuck being in a cell

I’ve been risking my life

Check my podcast

Its

an anti-drug podcast

I used to do a lot of drugs

ICall it a crutch

Kevin doesn’t need a crutch

I might be handicapped

Due to my mental illness

I’m so fucking ill

Talking about my rap sickness?

Call me rabid or

The man who did

I was a Tweaker

But I’m a rap legend

Rapping that i did

I don’t kid

I’m very serious

I’m very goofy

Laugh at me for being dizzy

I might spin in circles

No, Post Malone

I’m spun

See me walking in circles

But I’m not in the circus

About my business

Just know, I really did this

But ask your bitch

I might be a mess

But I still fuck the best

Even if I don’t

I bet she still fucks me

Because I’m a be so goddamn fucking rich

Message direct to Rich

Should I nutted all up in your pregnant bitch

Because that bitch was a junkie

She would’ve done anything for some heroin

That bitch would of gladly fucked me

For a temptation

Call it her preference of sin

That bitch is the definition of shady

May be a federal snitch

But I was an addict

I would of fucked that junkie bitch

She’s not the type to bring home to the family

So to nut freely inside that pregnant slut

I would of gifted that

No obligation

Bitch, not worthy of Kevin’s loyalty

I’m a traditional man

So wifey status comes higher with more serious standards

call it Responsibility

Kevin’s trying to have a family

I don’t know if I would’ve did that with the last bitch

Call me crazy

I don’t know if I saw Family

Or the future I wanted

Tell Dani that she would of never been the future I wanted

I did want to fuck you

But this is the bigger fuck you

I don’t trick on a bitch

If you check my books

I’m coming rich

So fucked your baby daddy rich

Both of you are you a

fede snitches

I might just be a witness

But they’re gonna have to subpoena

My podcast

But fuck that broadcast

Because

going to court

It’s a waste of my time

You better come get me off the stage

See me at my concert

I’m a musician

Tell Taylor damn girl, did you get lost after the show?

I guess maybe I’ll have to buy a ticket to your next show

Or maybe you should just buy a ticket to Kevin’s first show

Call it show and tell

Or maybe we will just keep that specific for my women fans

Kevins a dream

Call it your bitches fantasy

Just know, my life isn’t a dream

Just giving you it how I see it

It’s Kevins reality

It’s up

Kevins up

Next on the radio

This is a song for the radio

My heart radio

Fitness session

Iets work out

my favorite workout

Is when we fuck

But I don’t need a shout out

I told her to be quiet

And She kept screaming

But I won the game

Got that pussy cream in

When she came to orgasm

you know that bitch squirted

Time and time again

I’ll make her cum

Kevin’s not from the bay

But rapping i go , so dumb

I just know I’m not dumb

Might have a learning disability

Check out my rap ability

Or maybe my agility

When I’m on the go fast

I’m racing

I’m in motion

Review my music

Or give it some promotion

This junkie turned rapper

How’s that for a promotion?

I’m leveling up

Tell Dave east and fabolous

New York State of mind

I’m a hustler

But im riding with a Hollywood dime

I’m about my change

But it’s no more nickels and dimes

Kevins stock piling, gold, money, bars

But my content , never ends

I got so many bars

These are just off the wall. Thoughts?

I still got like 10 albums about to drop

How’s that for a thought

I guess maybe I’ll release some of the previews to the album tracklists

If you make a list

You’ll see I’m at the top

I got that spot

But they keep me inspired

I gotta make a list

Because I don’t get shit done if it’s not on the list

Call me hillbilly or redneck

Because I got a lisp

When I was in kindergarten

I had to go to the special class

So many words I had a hard time trying to pronounce

Shows almost starting

I’m about to turn on my mic

Hear the words I’m about to announce

It’s a great day for baseball

Shout out to Brockmire

just know Kevin does not get tired

I got so much work I gotta do

Just trying to make it so pops can finally retire

But my raps do not retire

No expiration

Get it all day every day

I got Hella inspiration tell currency. This is some motivational influence.

Pretty soon man he’s gonna start adding up

Check the balance

I’ll take the compass I’ll tell you the direction

I’m so North

Kevin Been up

I’m a stay up

Can’t live at the bottom

I Tell Drake I started under the bottom

Not bikini bottom

Shout out the weed man

In the roster business owner

Had a head shop called eclipse

And I bought the perfect bowl piece

had a marble on a beautiful pipe

With Patrick the starfish on it

Called it the Patrick star

Goddamn, Kevin is now a Hollywood superstar

I went too far

Told you I went crazy . Maybe I went too far.

Now Kevin’s gonna have the nicest car

I can’t believe I’m a rap superstar

Check the stars

I’m looking starry

Ijust tell Drake it’s no longer blurry

But if we going to court? That’s still my story.

Fuck the feds

I’m a forever rap this shit

Get the thoughts of out of my head

Just judge me how you want

Fear no man

Only God

I’m not the rap god

But I rap for God

My revolution is fuck the government

Release the herb

Only about 15 years late in my neck of the woods

But I love living in the woods

Maybe Appalachia maybe the redwoods

But fuck, the backwoods

I’m going raw

Paper planes

King size for king green

The birds fly high in Highview

So if you got a good flower, I’m sure the birds fly high there too

I always fly high

That’s As my permanent view

But if we’re talking views shout up Nipsey . I’m gonna be in a drop Coupe

This nigga is no longer nervous

In the booth

Call me a natural

I’m confident

But I’m humble

Ain’t no shame if you hear me mumble or stumble

I’ll Xpress, my thoughts

Fuck all the rap thots

But there ain’t no tricking for the pussy

I ain’t paying no money

Fuck me because you love me

Because the ones I know who really do love me

Just know, I have so much love to give back

If you ever stood up for me and had my back

Instead of ran around and talked behind my back

Fuck opps

If you’re an enemy, tell me

Because I’m done with fucking fake friends

So if you’re my friend

I’m a push you to be the best

And if you see me slip

A real friend gonna hit me with a truthful tip

And tell me Kevin you’re fucking up you stupid shit

But my shits not stupid

Coming with intelligence

I just know if I’m around your woman

She owes me some brain

I like a woman who’s confident

When she’s testing out my microphone

We’re not on the phone

We’re in the studio

And your bitch is getting the job done

So, I applaud the work

On my dick she likes to twerk

But if we’re talking work

She knows she’s not done

Till I come

But after my eruption

Tell the bitch to leave

Kevins heartless , im a rapper

my rocks got off

So excuse me for being forward when I tell her get out after I’m done

If you think my songs are done

Think again

Not Harry Mack

But give me some words back to back

And I’ll spit these raps

Might not be the best compared to my written work

I just know Kevin’s got work

Call it wood

I just know you’re loyal wife

Is Thinking she probably would

Because Kevin’s not settling

Power season . It’s coming

Kevin is taking over

But I’m never over or under anyone else

If we walk together, we walk beside each other .

I’m no better than the other

I might be the alpha call me the werewolf

Who’s got pure blood

Tell the slutty vampires

To come suck on me

I ain’t blood

And I’m not from the hood

Shout out to all the goats

My hood goes crazy

Or maybe it’s just Kevin when h does too much meth

I do go crazy

Tell the last woman she’s crazy because she lost out on my baby

Now I’m too wavy

I got sauce gravy

But my drip about to be designer

If you haven’t heard of this nigga Kevin lemnah

I’m Talking to best women

I’m valuable to the finder

But the queen I’m looking for

I hope I find her

This is just a reminder to those who lost me

I lost myself

But I found myself in a new light

Watch me thrive in the lights

We’re talking about the spotlight

Talking to Taylor

Do you finally see me in the light?

I think I wrote you the most songs

Maybe that was to Bobbi

Shout out Bobbi

I like a woman

who models for Kevin

Not with the teasing

I told Tinashe to give me a taste

Because I found myself in first place

But if we’re coming first

I’m a gentleman

I love her, but I bully the the pussy

Go savage

make sure she’s good

That bitch was wilding

When I took her to ecstasy

Tell Che . Kevin is the Candyman

I got candy . Some ice and ecstasy.

The voice inside your wife’s head

Thinking she should upgrade instead

Murder the pussy

Her kittykat getting beat up

Because Kevin’s up

Rest in peace to the dead

If we don’t talk on a day-to-day basis

You’re not real in my life

shout out to everyone who

Gave up on me , forgot about me

Left me for dead

Instead, I’ma bless those who never did

Did it all by myself

That I did

I really took a lotta fucking drugs

Straight to the head

God saved me from being dead

So see me I’m finally ahead

[mycharacterdump]

MICAH KITT + character profile.

BASIC INFORMATION ,

FULL NAME: micah gabriel kitt.

NICKNAME(S): meeks. 

DATE OF BIRTH: may 22nd.

ETHNICITY: caucasian + ¼ puerto rican.

GENDER: cis man.

PRONOUNS: he/him.

ORIENTATION: homoromantic, homosexual.

RELIGION: atheist, raised partially catholic.

MARITAL STATUS: single.

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: bilingual in english and spanish.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ,

FACE CLAIM: louis partridge.

HAIR COLOUR/STYLE: naturally dark brown.

EYE COLOUR: dark brown eyes. 

HEIGHT: six foot zero.

WEIGHT: 155 lbs.

BUILD: lanky.

TATTOOS: 'mad as a hatter' on his inner right wrist + 'thin as a dime' on his inner left wrist // 'unpredictable' on his collarbone // half-sleeve of crows on his left forearm bohemian rhapsody lyrics on his right upper arm // music notes behind one ear // (stick'n'poke) ghost with headphones on his ankle. 

PIERCINGS: small gauges in both lobes and snakebites. 

CLOTHING STYLE: normally seen in white t-shirts and black jeans + doc martens, sometimes throws on a dark wash denim jacket or a jumper; wears multiple rings, hot topic bracelets, and a cross necklace he got from his nana that he feels guilty not wearing.

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: scar in his left eyebrow from when he fell out of a tree at age ten.

AESTHETICS: disarming and alarming, dastardly disney prince, fanning the flames of violence, scraped knees and bleeding knuckles, the feeling of rot: slowly destroying you from the inside, the rupture of your heart, loyalty beyond compare, shakespeare’s tragedy opened next to an untouched breakfast, the shift of the temperature as a storm approaches, ashtray with finished cigarettes and empty bottles of alcohol on the windowsill, red LED lights, a collection of vinyl records, piles of books all over the place, printed out posters of horror movies, a laugh in the face of authority, ripped jeans, thrifting for home decor and clothes, the smell of cigarettes stuck to clothes, an old camera slinging around your neck, lies that sound genuine, chipped nail polish, showing up late to everything with a large coffee, worn down hands from drumsticks. 

HEALTH ,

AILMENTS: none.

MENTAL AILMENTS: intermittent explosive disorder + paranoid personality disorder.

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: low.

BODY TEMPERATURE: hot.

ADDICTIONS: none. 

DRUG USE: often ( marijuana + psychedelics ). 

ALCOHOL USE: often. 

PERSONALITY ,

LABEL: the spitfire.

POSITIVE TRAITS: challenging, forthright, methodical, spontaneous, youthful, competitive, impressionable, experimental, deceptive. 

NEGATIVE TRAITS: paranoid, dogmatic, irreligious, abrasive, demanding, hostile, nihilistic, reactionary, irritable, extreme.

FEARS: everything and nothing, depending on the day. 

HOBBIES: drumming, scaling any height he can, annoying others, listening to music, photography.

QUIRKS: fluent in spanish, coming up on his fourth year of braces, ambidextrous, always looks dissheveled, an adrenaline junkie, takes things too personally, argues for no reason, will do anything for friends and family.

LIKES: the color black, playing with his switchblade, strong energy drinks (200mg+), anything nintendo, enamel pins, gore/shock movies & tv, confrontation, skateboarding, rap, internetcore, all things alien related.

DISLIKES: taking his meds, therapy, being restrained, when people don’t believe him, all his sister’s boyfriends, driving, death metal, ironically enough: coffee, cleaning up after others, being immortal.

FAVOURITE ,

WEATHER: stormy nights.

COLOUR: black. 

MUSIC: west coast rap, punk rock, indie rock, alternative.

MOVIES: anything quentin tarantino. 

BOOK: choke by chuck palahniuk.

FLOWER: black dahlia.

SPORT: none. 

BEVERAGE: classic monster. 

FOOD: fish & chips.

FAMILY ,

FATHER: thomas knitt (alive.)

MOTHER: lucy lahey-kitt (alive.)

SIBLING(S): one older sister, tallulah kitt.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: none.

CHILDREN: none.

PET(S): never trusted with any.

FAMILY’S FINANCIAL STATUS: comfortable.