#krylaisvitlo

[takeabiteoutofyou]

@kryla-i-svitlosvitlo started following takeabiteoutofyou

“It’s been forever and some change, friend! How are you?!”

[cloningfailure]

“Y´know, Meathead, I don´t wanna persuade you if you wanna live at Alison and Donnie´s place, but you know you could also live with me and Kira in Mrs.S´house, yeah? I want you t´know that you and the boys would be welcome there, too.” 

@kryla-i-svitlo

[gopniik-blog]

@kryla-i-svitlo│ ♡

“Hnnng.”

A groan is what he answered the blurry figure hovering above him. He remembered company last night, but he was damn well assured he had been left alone as norm after their ritual gathering and smashing each weekend. Or had they stayed ? It wouldn’t be the first. Sometimes it happened, but now the man blinked confusedly at who was clearly an intruder in his room. Who ? Suddenly it felt chilly. And damn, the light was too bright — wait — this was not home. Not unless his shit apartment had been ripped of it’s roof. And walls. And…and…It took Solonevitch a few more seconds to realize his state of being. Or rather he felt it, because his neck and back muscles soon punched him for having slept in such an awkward position between a park bench and ground. Though that’s the least of worries to have when the hangover hits.

She probably asked if he was ok. But then again who ever stops on their way to ask just that while feeling genuinely concerned ? Avoidance was always the easiest route. Nonetheless, it had sounded like it in his groggy mind only because that was what he wished it to be instead of another I’m calling the police’ for having gotten intoxicated in a place were people brought their children to play. He was an eyesore, he knew, yet didn’t care as he waved a hand to shoo her away like a fly, knocking off the can of beer from earlier off the bench and onto his chest. “Blyat.”

He took it, weighted it and finding it empty tossed it listlessly aside. Fingers gripping the side of the bench he allowed his legs to drop off and pulled himself to a sitting position. Waited until the world stopped spinning, and when that didn’t work he shut his eyes before it made him more nauseous. Once it passed he looked at her again, more closely this time.

She didn’t look like the girl from yesterday in the cafe. The one with a blond lion’s mane who looked like a good fuck. The one he tripped over for laughs and had her spill her expensive coffee on an equally expensive brand shirt. Her hair is a blob of blonde, similar, but not the same. Her’s seems more wild. Definitely not the fancy, posh girl of the cafe. People like that don’t frequent this areas anyways, that’s his assumption, which doesn’t matter anyways when you stink of cheap beer, cologne and probably piss to reinforce it.

“Fuck you want ? Fuck off…” Anybody was free to sleep in parks.

[cloningfailure]

For the phone meme #

Her contact name is of course Meathead <3 Her photo would be this adorable one (x), ignore the others, her ringtone would be, you guessed it, Sugar Sugar by The Archies :´) Helena loves it and reminds Sarah of their awesome roadtrip. Her last message is:                                   don´t forget to buy cereal for richard meathead

(@kryla-i-svitlo)

CELL PHONE HEADCANONS (x) Accepting !

[ferocioushonesty]

1. What does their bedroom look like? 2. Do they have any daily rituals? 3. Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

headcanons meme

bedroom

Unsurprisingly neat— but not spartan (at least in modern verse; canon era it’s pretty much the essentials). He doesn’t like sleeping in too big a bed and sharing it is something that doesn’t happen super often, so he has a twin. It’s dressed in unpatterned sheets and blankets in complimentary colors or a series (blues are a reliable choice). The bed is positioned in a corner of the room flush against the walls, just enough space to allow for making it. A small bedside table holds whatever book he’s reading (always just the one) and his reading glasses. Opposite is a window, rather high set, looking out at the neighborhood. He’s on a middle floor so the light that does get through in the morning is indirect. The rest of the decor includes a chair matched with a desk of old oak, a rectangular rug by the bed on which are kept his slippers, a hook on the door for his robe, and a big print he likes and isn’t quite sure why, but he’s even had it framed. The walls are still the soft cream they were when he moved in; the reason for the rug is the rest of the floor’s unrelentingly cold linoleum.

daily rituals

The short answer is, of course he does. And if they’re messed with, he’s not a happy bunny.

He wakes up at the same time, usually without the aid of an alarm clock (although he keeps one for backup). “Breakfast” is coffee and maybe toast with jam when he has something not too sweet, like marmalade or even something savory like garlic. (That for obvious reasons tends to be relegated to weekends and days off.) Very occasionally when he’s having success with a case he’ll get a crêpe from a neighborhood place. In most cases these are eaten in transit.

Lunch he takes with him, most often salad and a sandwich. Dinner, if he has it, is at the same time, late even by French standards. Afterwards he reads until he’s sleepy.

exercise

Part of his ritual is, at least the days when he can spare the time, to jog to work. He lives in a neighborhood that’s relatively close to the prefecture but far enough that it’s a significant jog. Beyond that, he trains a lot in the gym and does savate (a form of kickboxing).

[ferocioushonesty]

What do you think about your mun’s shopping habits?

the great mun roast

He very nearly doesn’t manage to suppress a rolling of eyes… but failure belongs to those with less fortitude. “Rife with impulse buys— it could be worse though. At least they try to find quality and good deals.” The key word is try. In particular he’s thinking of a certain unicorn shaped mug that is neither quality, a deal, or even tasteful.