#Bjorno

[bjornthebearguy]

Aaaa, thank you @juvenillia for tagging me!!!! I don’t usually get tagged in these kinda things and I’m happy to participate!

I’m a bit surprised with the results I got, but I think it’s ironic that I got a bunch of cats because I do have three of them already. But tysm for tagging me!!

Not sure if these people have been tagged already, BUT,

@ohworm-writes @kmi-02 @alwaysshallow @a-very-bored-blogger @ghosts-cyphera @cordeliawhohung 💛💛

[bjornthebearguy]

oh my god- this is so cute? I’m gonna sob, istg. This is my before-bed cereal istg!!!!! YOU NEVER DISAPPOINT WHENEVER YOU POST SOMETHING‼️‼️‼️ RAHHHHHHHHHHH

Out of curiosity, how do you think Simon will deal with a very touchy kid? Like they want hugs all the time and are just chill to with him holding them while he does whatever, even if it’s for like an hour. Maybe they’re the quiet one of the lot too— so maybe Ghost doesn’t mind as much because they won’t try to chat his ears off like the others.

(They’re definitely nap buddies by the way. Dad needs to take a break? Mum sends them his way. Dad’s grumpy? Kiddo comes toddling along, pulling on his pants and refusing to take a nap without him.)

anon. ur mind has exploded mine.

this has well and truly buckled me

that’s his wee girl.

she’s so so so like him, the type of kid that gets told she’s a lot like her dad by adults she doesn’t even know, hiding behind his leg while they say so and fidgeting with a favourite toy of hers — perhaps even a FUUUCCKKKINg skeleton plushie.

she ❤️ her dad bffr

ur so right, she’s always clinging to him and following him around. barely speaks unless spoken to but god fucking damn she has his smile. his downturned smile n the dimples that come with it 🥹

she’ll sit in silence beside him, even leaning her small back against his bicep on the sofa while he’s watching tv n she’s watching smth on her ipad (this man didn’t raise no ipad kids tho) occasionally leaning back fully to look up at him from his lap.

stfu his hand moving hair from her face n his thumb caressing over her lil arm when she had stretched ALL WHILE STILL LOOKINF AT THE TV IM GOING FERAL HES SO FATHER .

they can talk without words cos they’re both quiet mfs. like a learnt language. one i’ll never know cos i cant keep my mouth shut.

to conclude, olivia is emotional.

[stealfromthedevil]

When you order your away shirt and it looks like a West Ham shirt, but it's alright because your husband supports West Ham.

What you saying @laurfilijames , is it getting me brownie points with the husband?

[bunnyreaper]

I’m so angry at tumblr because it’s not giving me notifications from you or anyone else and it’s being a pain in the ass and only sometimes sending notifs 😡😡😡😡

tumblr was like woah this guy is so fast to new posts, he must be tired, lets give him a break!

hope it gets fixed soon. love you bjorno <3

[writing-by-katt]

Chapter 4: But We Have Homework?

3:30 am

A red 2018 toyota prius pulls up to the precinct. Two figures step out, a short blonde girl with bandages on her face and knuckles and a tall woman with short blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. The woman wears sea green scrubs with little smiley faces all over them over a white turtleneck athletic shirt. She has comfortable shoes and has her badge clipped to her pocket. Her badge has a cute little smiley face holding it on an elastic string. The girl has a pale pink and white Nike gym bag slung over her right shoulder and the surgeon carries a matching backpack along with a white violin case. 

As soon as the duo makes their way through the doors, they’re ushered into a conference room full of impatient people. Carina scuffs her shoes nervously, eyes scanning the room for her sister. She halts in her tracks when she notices Aksana isn’t in the room.

A middle-aged woman introduces herself as Special Agent Clawson. Her dark skin was complimented by curly black hair pulled into a braided top knot. Clawson wore minimal mascara and neutral lipstick. She was only a few inches taller than Carina so she had to look up at the tall surgeon.

“Thank you for your cooperation Ms…”

“Vasha. Vasha Popov. It is saddening to hear about my dear friends the Bjornos. This is Carina Vilkov, where, might I ask is dear Aksana?” Elisabetta asks with an embellished accent. The two women share a stiff handshake as Agent Clawson scans Carina’s injuries. The team knew that she was involved in underground fights but no teenager should be hurt this badly and still be functioning. Noting the girl’s exhaustion and the fact that it was nearly 3:45 am and the girl probably hadn’t had more than a little nap, she made a decision.

“Carina dear, your father has sent some men to pick you and your sister up. They are three doors down, Agents Dawson and Moore will take you there. Your sister is there too.” 

The two called agents stood from their chairs at the end of the table. Dawson smiled softly at the injured girl as Moore glared daggers at ‘Vasha’. Currently, there was no probable cause to detain the ‘auntie’ as she was not one of the Jade Sisterhood’s known members and hadn’t presented an opportunity but he knew she was hiding something. Without proof though, it was futile. None of their claims would hold up in court so they would have to continue to bide their time. 

Agent Dawson took both of the girl’s bags from the two and started to slowly lead her down the hall. Dawson could tell that their charge was in pain whenever she attempted to speak so they decided to fill the silence themself.

“My name is Briar Dawson, pronouns they/them. That sourpuss over there is Zach Moore, he/him. You’re Carina Vilkov correct? Are your pronouns she/her?” They ask with a smile, assuming yes or no questions would be the easiest form of communication. Carina nods while flashing a thumbs-up. 

“Good to know,” the agent smiles, “would you like me to fill you in on what’s been going on so far or would you like your sister with you? Thumbs up for now, thumbs down for Aksana being present.”

Carina flashes a thumbs up. Aksana has probably been through a lot today, she doesn’t need to live through it again just for her sake.

“Alrighty kiddo. As your sister told you, your mother and stepfather perished this morning in a gang-related incident. Did you see the smoky haze in the city this morning? That was the warehouse that was attacked.” Dawson takes a good look at Carina, they want to make sure they don’t overwhelm the poor kid. 

“When the fire was put out, investigators determined that there was a larger threat so we, the FBI, were called in. We found out that you and your sister were in need of a transfer of guardianship so we located your father and he agreed to take the both of you in. One of your brothers was in Chicago for a business trip and just so happened to stop in the city before he flew back to Italy. We were able to get ahold of him and he agreed to take you back with him. His security team is here to take you two to the airport so that you can leave for Italy ASAP. I’m sure you're both exhausted so this may be hard to understand right now.” 

“Brovers?” Carina’s shock was written all over her face. Even though the slurred words, Moore and Dawson could tell that she had no idea that she had a brother.

Moore sighed, “Kid, this is going to come as a shock to you, but you have 7 brothers. You’ll be staying with them at your father’s estate, at least for the time being. Your sister has our numbers in case you need anything and you can always call the American Embassy, they’ll be able to help you. Your brothers range from 30 years old to 17. In order from oldest to youngest, their names are; Viktor, Adrik, Santo, Vito, Luciano, Demitre, and Damyan. Now that I think about it, you have something in common with Santo and Vito, they’re twins too. Your father's name is Cesare Mezzasalma, founder and CEO of Apex Security.” The man places a steady hand on the teen’s shoulder in a silent gesture of solidarity. 

Carina stays silent but an unspoken question lingers in the air. What?

“When you and your sister were born, there was a tragic car accident. You, Aksana, and your mother perished after a drunk driver struck the vehicle transporting you from the hospital to your family’s estate. As it turns out, your mother faked her’s and you girls’ deaths in order to flee the country with her lover, Greg Bjorno. At this moment, it appears as though your mother did this to avoid the public backlash that was predicted should she divorce your father,” Dawson hesitates, their fingers twitching as they ponder whether to say the next piece of information, “She brought you, girls, with her because it was the most convenient cover story. We have reason to believe that your mother suffered from BPD and NPD. She loved you but was very insecure and tended to be defensive to an excess. Tell me, did you and your sister live in Harlem, alone, or did you live with your parents in Tribeca?” The kindly agent looks at Carina expectantly. 

Time seems to stop as images play through Carina’s mind. Her and her sister walking home from school. Their arms locked as they chatted about the day. Aksana’s long ponytail and Carina’s ballet bun reflect bits of twilight as they walk. The pair reaches a run-down but classy building in need of a new coat of paint. 

Aksana’s lightly tanned hand turns a gold knob on a dark green door that opens to cracked tiles and exposed brick. The twins climb three flights of stairs before reaching the top floor. At the end of the hallway is a mint green door with a brass handle. The paint is chipping slightly but there are tiny flowers painted all over it. Their apartment wasn’t much but it was home. The tiny kitchen was heavily worn with peeling linoleum floors. There was a little circular table next to a window that had two chairs and a vase of hand-made paper tiger lilies and baby’s breath. The bathroom counter was small and stocked full of Aksana’s makeup and perfumes. A pastel floral shower curtain and bathmat matched the pink and purple towels that were color coded for each girl. They even found a way to hang a little abstract painting in the room to make it look slightly better. 

There was no real living room due to a lack of space and funds so the girls had two desks in the room with mismatched chairs so that they at least had somewhere to study and pile their crap. 

Through a door on the other side of the kitchen and common space was the bedroom. Straight back from the door was Aksana’s bed tucked in the corner. In the corner to the right of the door was Carina’s bed. Both girls had twin beds with storage underneath. They’d hung floating shelves all over the room except for the far wall parallel to Aksana’s bed. Carina had saved up and worked extremely hard to purchase a little projector that the girls could use to watch TV together while sitting on the older twin’s bed. The girls had opted for twin beds so that there would be room for them to have a comfortable chair tucked in the remaining corner of the room, along with a fluffy rug. On the wall opposite the door, was a tall, thin window, centered in the room. The girls had hung some sheer white curtains and fairy lights to make a light curtain that shielded them from any prying eyes on the fire escape. There were no ceiling lights in the room so they hung LED lights to frame the perimeter of the room as well as glow-in-the-dark stars in an accurate star map. A little collection of handmade clay mushrooms decorated one of the shelves above Carina’s bed and polaroids of the girls together and with their friends were arranged above Aksana’s. While there was a distinction of items based on which bed they were around, it appeared as though the items were fair game for both girls. 

Tears prick Carina’s eyes at the thought of never seeing home again. Of never seeing the home that she and Aksana had made for themselves, albeit dingy and cramped with lousy neighbors and no security. Home was home and they would never see it again. She looks up into Agent Moore’s brown eyes before holding up a number two. 

The trio finishes their journey in a comfortable silence before Moore opens a heavy metal door. Inside the room is a metal table that’s been bolted to the floor along with four metal chairs. Inside the room are four men all dressed in black. Three of them wear complete suits complete with black ties and sunglasses, even though it’s nearly 4:00 am and they’re inside. The last man wears a full three-piece suit minus the jacket and has a white tie. His sunglasses are purple-tinted. Odd.

After some back and forth with Moore and Dawson, the agents step out of the room to stand by the door. The man turns to the girls with a soft grin, “Alright girly, you ready to go? One of my teams is at your apartment as we speak to pack a few essentials for you two so that you have something when we get home. Let’s go.”

His smile falters when Carina ignores him, moving to give Aksana a side hug. The girls clearly have no intention of moving any time soon, he didn’t want to but he decided this was the only way to handle the delicate situation.

“Come with us.” The leader of the four men orders. The twins look at each other skeptically. Carina, in her bruised-up glory, steps slightly in front of her sister, hands tensed at her sides. The man raises a brow over his sunglasses, “No need to get hostile Ms. Vilkov. We are not here to hurt you, but we will be taking you with us one way or another. Now, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Explain our options and where we’re going, and maybe. MAYBE. We’ll come with you. If you so much as touch a hair on her head, I’ll rip your face off.” Carina snarls, words slightly distorted by her injury. 

“The easy way is you come with us willingly. We will take you to Mr. Mezzasalma’s personal jet. From there we will fly to Genoa, Italy where you’ll be picked up by your brothers. They will take you home. The hard way is this; You resist, we subdue you, you wind up in Genoa, Italy, and you meet your brothers. Either way, you will be going to Italy, meeting your brothers, and coming home. Your father awaits your return.” The man stares, face neutral as if he didn't just casually describe kidnapping. 

Aksana grasps Carina’s hand, making the younger girl relax slightly. The younger twin lowers her left hand slightly with a silent exhale.

“Alright…You say we have brothers? Why aren’t they here? Why did they send a bunch of gangster wannabes instead of picking us up themselves? Also,” she fixes her confused eyes on the middle man with a white tie, “Did you say Italy?! We can’t just up and leave the country! We have..like homework!”

The group of men stifle snickers at the futile attempt at excuses. Carina looks each man up and down, assessing their threat level. Her eyes scan the group before landing on a stocky, tattooed man. He has purple-tinted sunglasses and she has definitely seen him somewhere. 

The man smirks as he watches the girl’s brow furrowed in confusion. She can’t quite place where she’s seen him but she definitely recognizes him. He steps forward with an outstretched hand, “The name is Nicholas Stone, call me Nix.”

“You…” Carina’s face scrunches further, eyes scanning his face for something to give away the reason she knows him, “You!”

“Me!” There it is. She’s figured it out.

“...Thanks. You saved my ass back there.” A pale hand reaches to run through her hair. Carina nods to Aksana while giving her hand a gentle squeeze. 

“You said Italy? How long will the flight be, if you don’t mind me asking Mr… uhm.. Nix?” Aksana’s fingers tap Carina’s hand rhythmically as she speaks up for the first time. 

The men note that, while nervous, the girls work to hide it. To the untrained eye, they would seem mostly unbothered. Nix raises his right hand to his earpiece.

“Alright kids, your brother, my boss, wants wheels up within the hour. It’ll take Nearly 40 minutes to get there, leaving us only 15 minutes of wiggle room. I’m glad you’re cautious but we do not have time for this.” Nix swishes his hands, shooing the girls toward the door. The two men standing outside the door nod to their boss and the agents as the group walks toward the building’s exit. 

Aksana drapes her arm around her sister’s shoulders. All the older twin wants right now is to talk to her sister in private. She clearly won the fight but her face is almost half covered in bandages! What the fuck happened? Who was she paired against?! Both girls are clearly stressed, hungry, and exhausted. 

Two black Lincoln Navigators pull up in front of the building. Nix opens the back door to one, helping Carina into the back row before Aksana joins her. Before he shuts the door, a man with red fingerless gloves walks up with two blankets. 

“Ah Knuckles, what’s up? You got the stuff right? Boss wants wheels up in,” Nix checks his watch, “47 minutes.”

Knuckles smiles as he reaches back to give the girls the blankets, “Yeah, I figured they may want these, it's fucking cold man. The poor kids are in shorts for fucks sake. These were on their beds, I assume they mean a lot and honestly, they’ve been through a hell of a day.” He hands a fleece tie blanket that has white music print on one side and a lilac fabric with pastel stars and basketballs to Carina. He frowns seeing her messed up face. “Damn kid, the fuck happened to you? When’s the last time you had any pain meds? Shit looks like it hurts!”

Nix slaps the 23-year-old man upside the head successfully spurring him to hand Aksana a fleece tie blanket with the same music side but a pale pink side with darker pink floral stems. The strong bro hands Nix a little bag to give to the girls on the plane, it holds gummy bears, jellybeans, deodorant, new toothbrushes and paste, a few hair ties, and their phone chargers. Nix claps Knuckles on the back before climbing into the front passenger seat. Knuckles moves to the other SUV while a pretty young man and another woman take seats in the same vehicle. Two men join SUV 1 in the row in front of the two overtired teens. 

As the Navigator starts the 40-minute journey to the airport Nix turns around to look at the girls. “Carina, Aksana, meet my friends, coworkers, and associates, Beck, Smokes, and Watchman. Beck and Watchman here were in the room with us when you were debriefed, Smokes was on the squad that went to your apartment to grab a few essentials. She was in charge of the team Knuckles was on when he got your blankets. Nice blankets by the way.”

Carina offers a little wave as Aksana greets the woman driving the SUV and the two men sitting in front of the two. 

Nix pulls out his phone to inform his boss that they’re on their way to the airport as the car falls into a comfortable silence. 

Beck turned from his spot behind the driver’s seat to let the girls know they were nearing their destination only to find them asleep. Camera clicks sound as he snaps a few pictures of the girls snuggled up in the back. Carina’s head leaned on Aksana’s shoulder with the older sister having secured the younger in her arms. Both were covered in their respective blankets and looked cute as they finally got a little rest. Beck didn’t want to wake the two yet so he motioned for the rest of the car to stay quiet until they could get the girls onto the plane. The group’s collective idea was that it would be easier to carry the teens onto the plane and get them settled rather than coaxing them onto it. They were still on a schedule after all. 

[stealfromthedevil]

I was tagged by @laurfilijames to give four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !!

So here's mine

My Man! ❤️

Tagging @lunar-ghoulie @mallory2791 @kassylin

MY MAN!

I was tagged by @red-orchid and @justreblogginfics to give four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !!

(That is not the only thing they have me yelling)

I'm sure this won't be at all be surprising to you.

No pressure tags for @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @itspdameronthings @stealfromthedevil @navybrat817 @maggiemayhemnj @ramadiiiisme @middleearthpixie @sotwk and absolutely anyone else who wants to play and proudly show off their MEN 💗

[giorollz]

Bjorno i got no kidney plz gib me one im so desperate ToT (ur secret admirer)

i have a boyfriend

[thelazyhermits]

What abour BJØRNS like the band? Or....Bjorno Mars?

Black’s eye sockets go dark. “DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU.”

Pup just shakes his head with a sigh. Why people try to test his brother’s patience he’ll never know. 

[bjornthebearguy]

Breaks into tears.. ilysm broski

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you. 

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive. 

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead. 

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side. 

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done. 

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles. 

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants. 

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest. 

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired. 

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again. 

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again. 

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person. 

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet. 

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you. 

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them. 

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

[bjornthebearguy]

No idea how to do this (or if I’m doing it right) but @juvenillia tagged me to do this.. t h i n g ? Funky quiz thingy

I got Umber the first time I tried but ironically enough I forgot to copy and paste it or even take a screenshot. So I did it a second time(lmao) and got Forest instead,

fern leaves, greenhouses, cloaks, bookstores, pine trees, chokers, snake scales. your essence is forest: you are insightful and intense, possessed by your thoughts. you seek the impossible; you are pulled between pragmatism and romanticism, never sure which is right. often you rest in the spaces between black and white, lost in theory. you are the observer. you are the hypothesizer. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of green, sage, moss, and teal, who share your deep contemplation. you are also drawn to the imaginative souls navy and amber, who will help you grow and help you let go of the rational. however, you may struggle to get along with the theatrical personalities of magenta and gold who are too loud in their pride.

Not sure who’s been tagged already, but I’ve decided to tag the local bbg @starry-eyedblog and @soullessdianthus 💃💃💃

[stone-goddess-writing]

I'm not a Jarl's daughter anymore, I know that much. By Bjorno's words, I would presume I'm a whore of sorts, but I'm going to wait until I'm given that title before I assume it's true.

Via, Arnaholt, Unfinished Project

[theastralsea]

*hasnt drawn Bjorn in 80 years, really down about it*

*looks at a drawing I did months ago, whines over how much I love him*

Me, banging pots and pans together: DRAW HIM ASSHOLE

[laurfilijames]

I love you more than words 💗

As much as I only use this platform for enjoyment sometimes we all need to have a rant.

I'm not feeling good today and this is not by any means a pity post but more of an awareness one. We all talk to each other about our common interests and such which is great but sometimes it needs to be addressed that we might not be doing so great. Whether that be physical health, mental health. There's no shame in admitting that you're not ok, and today I'm not ok.

I have generalised and focal epilepsy, it is a neurological disorder that affects my life and how I live it from day to day. For any fellow sufferers (and I salute you) you will know just how much it sucks ass, and not in a good way!

This week has been full of highs and lows, from travelling and getting to enjoy a wonderful experience a few days ago to spending almost 24 hours completely incapacitated from a sudden onset of seizures.

Again, this is not for pity or sympathy.

The point is that we all have things in our lives that we struggle with at certain points and it's ok to talk about it.

So this is mine.

I have a neurological disability.

Feel free to talk openly here about anything that you find yourself struggling with, failing that my inbox is always open.

Let's support each other as much as we can because you never know who needs that little boost.

[laurfilijames]

The post was super long so I'm starting a new one!

Thank you for the tag @stealfromthedevil (Mrs. Bjorno, I don't know how happy Dave is with your result!)

You're stuck in a room with the last character in your gallery how safe are you

I'm safe, though my 🐱 is absolutely in danger 🥵

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[ultra-benjamin-blog1]

https://soundcloud.com/clubillusion/the-days-of-bass-set-4-02-00

[writing-by-katt]

Oh Brothers?: Prologue

Cesare sits at his desk, mulling over papers from the latest week’s jobs. A meeting with the Russian mafia (Bravata) leaders is scheduled for 3 months from now. He huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose, before standing abruptly and swiping everything off his desk. As he is about to throw the door to his office open, the handle clicks.

A dark-haired, average-height man, in a 3 piece suit stands in front of him with a perturbed expression. The young man scans the ornate office before gazing into Cesare’s storm-green eyes.

���Father. We need to talk…” The dark-haired man glances over his shoulder, “preferably in private.”

Cesare looks down at his son, jaw ticking, “Come in Viktor. I’m sure you have good reason to disrupt me when you know I’m busy.”

Cesare’s sharp tone and menacing glare don’t phase Viktor in the slightest. He simply steps over the mess that is his father’s office and lounges in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk.

Victor takes a calming breath as his father sits heavily, “Father. I don’t know how to put this gracefully.” He pauses.

“Aksana and Carina Mezzasalma have been located in New York City, USA. An extraction team has been sent to bring them to Genoa where Vito and Santo will meet them before driving here. Shall I have rooms prepared?”

Cesare is silent for a few moments. He is not an easily disturbed man but this. This disturbed him.

~NEW YORK CITY, NY~

3:20pm

An explosion echoes from the video on a screen. The middle-aged woman standing next to the projection pauses the video, leaving the room silent. One of her red curls brushes her umber brow. Brown eyes scan the room for a second before a grey-haired woman at the end coughs slightly.

“Agent Dowton. Care to explain what we just witnessed?” The red-haired chief fixes her gaze.

“Of course Ma’am,” Agent Dowton strides to the podium. Her cane tapping along the cheap tile floors, “As you can see, at approximately 4:37am, a warehouse in Harlem was obliterated by a massive explosion. Witnesses say the explosion was caused by a noxious chemical reaction at the warehouse. How do you ask? Well, it turns out that Mr. and Ms. Greg and Marisha Bjorno were involved with one of the local gangs, the Diamond Skull Syndicate. The DSS and The Kings have been spotted having conflicts for the last few months, we have been led to believe that The Kings targeted the warehouse in order to send the DSS a message. Dr. Bjorno was inside her lab at the time and Mr. Bjorno was in his office. While both were on opposite sides of the warehouse, the explosion was large enough that both were killed.”

A steely-eyed man at the end of the table raised his hand, “Why would the Bjorno’s be targeted by The Kings? Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to go after one of the DSS’s strongholds?”

“Thank you for your interruption Agent Cass, I was getting to that,” Dowton looks at the younger man sternly before continuing, “The Bjornos were creating and selling methamphetamines to not only the DSS but The Kings and a few minor gangs in other parts of the city. One of our witnesses, a member of the Jade Sisterhood, sent a tip just four hours ago, as it turns out, the Bjornos have two daughters. You are to locate them and bring them into custody so that we may find their next of kin.”

The elder woman taps her way back to her seat before Chief Kent resumes her position at the podium.

With hands clasped behind her back, she addresses the agents gathered, “Agents Cass and Wright, you are to go to Central High School and find Aksana Vilkov, dismissed. Agents Moore and Dawson, you will intercept Carina Vilkov, aka: Short-Fuse. She may be difficult to track down if you don’t find her before she makes it to the Jade Sisterhood hideout. Our informant was less than helpful when it came to the location. If you are unable to intercept her before she gets there, you will have a second chance at 2:30 am when she returns home to her apartment in Brownsville.”

“Hold up chief! What? Is this Vilkov sister part of the sisterhood? Shouldn’t we detain her or something? And why are we calling them Vilkov? They’re the Bjorno’s kids right?” Moore stands angrily. The sisterhood has been giving them issues since his days as a cadet. There is no way he’ll just roll over and let some brat get away with the crimes she has no doubt committed.

“Cool it, Moore. Vilkov and her sister aren’t part of the sisterhood, they’re just under their protection. If you actually read the file before the meeting, you’d know that the Bjornos have two residences. One in Tribeca and one in Brooklyn. As the Bjorno’s were below the law anyway, it is assumed that their daughters live in Brooklyn while Mr. and Ms. Bjorno lived in Tribeca. Our informant did let us in on a little detail though. Carina Vilkov started cage fighting after a run-in with a different gang jumped her and her sister on their way back from school one night. Turns out she is a little firecracker and wracks in the cash for the sisterhood. In return, she gets 10% from each fight and protection from the sisterhood.” Dawson’s hand brushes through their bronze hair.

“You didn’t answer my question about the whole name thing tho…”

“Marisha’s maiden name is Vilkov. Bjorno is the girl’s stepfather you dipshit.”

Dawson receives a slap to the back of their head for that comment.

“Alright, you chatty Cathys! Hop to it! Or do you want to be out all night!” Chief Kent snaps her fingers in the duo’s faces. She rolls her golden-brown eyes as they scramble over each other to get out the door first.

Left alone in the conference room, she turns to peer at the photos on the board in front of her. Pulling out her phone to make a call to the next of kin, she sighs.

“Let’s just hope this doesn’t end in a gang war…”