1. who’s the Blorbo that you’ve never posted about on your blog?
I've given one answer already, but let's give another one since I've never seen even a single post about this manga on tumblr. A big shoutout to my girl Shut Hell, who did many things to me when she ripped a man's throat open with her bare teeth.
3. was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made this character your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?
Back to Blade because I think this specific one is really funny. He was my blorbo even when I wasn't even playing the game yet. Ravi was telling me about him as they played the game and I looked up some stuff and it was such a critical hit KO I wound up starting the game a few weeks later. The effect a guy who can't die and so has "gets put in the blender" as a trait can have on me is impressive.
16. is your Blorbo canonically alive?
It's complicated.
19. when it comes to Blorbos, do you have a type?
Technically several, but the answer remains oh, absolutely. It's been proven time and time again that friends who know me well enough can come across a character and say "Ray would like that one" and usually end up being entirely correct.
24. if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?
I'd give him more screentime and a more significant relationship with the protagonist, though still not as important as the rest of his group has with them. It feels like a bit of a shame that he's so close to the other three but not with them at all even though they were a part of the group too. I'd make it so he was among the ones who taught them how to fight - their "brute force your way through everything" fighting style is very reminiscent of both him and Firefly...
I got tagged my @ultipoter, thank ya for taggin me!! I was actually just thinking yesterday that I hadn’t gotten one of these in a while.
1ST RULE: tag 9 people you want to get to know better
(do it if you want and tag me in it it so I can see it!)
2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true.
APPEARANCE: - I am 5'7 or taller - I wear glasses - I have at least one tattoo- I have at least one piercing - I have blonde hair - I have brown eyes - I have short hair - My abs are at least somewhat defined - I have or had braces (didn’t but I had the option back in the day)
PERSONALITY:- I love meeting new people - People tell me I am funny - Helping others with their problems is a big priority of mine - I enjoy physical challenges - I enjoy mental challenges - I am playfully rude to people I know - I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it - There is something I would change about my personality
ABILITY: - I can sing well (I don’t have many actual opinions on that but Still) - I can play an instrument - I can do over 30 pushups without stopping - I am a fast runner - I can draw well - I have a good memory- I am good at doing math in my head - I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute - I have beaten at least 2 people arm wrestling - I can make at least 3 recipes from scratch - I know how to throw a proper punch
HOBBIES: - I enjoy sports (no good at em but they’re alright yeah) - I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else - I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else - I have learned a new song in the past week - I exercise at least once a week - I have gone for runs at least once a week in warmer months - I have drawn something in the past month - I enjoy writing - Fandoms are my #1 priority - I do some form of Martial arts
EXPERIENCES: - I have had my first kiss - I have had alcohol - I have scored a winning point in a sport - I have watched an entire TV series in one sitting - I have been at an overnight event (unsure but I don’t think so) - I have been in a taxi - I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year - I have beaten a video game in one day (I feel like it has to have happened at some point) - I have visited another country - I have been to one of my favorite bands concerts
MY LIFE: - I have one person that I consider to be my Best Friend - I live close to my school/work (N/A) - My parents are still together - I have at least one sibling - I live in the United States - There is snow where I live right now (cold as hell but no snow barring very slight slivers in shadows, I’m not counting that though) - I have hung out with a friend in the past month - I have a smart phone - I own at least 15 CDs - I share my room with someone
RELATIONSHIPS: - I am in a Relationship - I have a crush on a celebrity - I have a crush on someone I know - I’ve been in at least 3 relationships - I have never been in a Relationship - I have admitted my feelings to a crush - I get crushes easily - I have had a crush for over a year (not like presently but) - I have been in a relationship for over a year - I have had feelings for a friend
RANDOM: - I have break-danced - I know a person named Jamie (I am he in fact) - I have had a teacher that has a name that is hard to pronounce - I have dyed my hair - I’m listening to a song on repeat right now - I have punched someone in the past week - I know someone who has gone to jail - I have broken a bone - I have eaten a waffle today - I know what I want to do in life - I speak at least two languages - I have made a new friend in the past year (I feel like I’m defining this a little stricter then most but Still)
thb oon nyt jo aika kyllästynyt tähän fanfic tropeen että sazed oli taakon bf ja raiskaaja... tiedän että siitä saa hyvää kirjallista draamaa mut alkaa jo yrjöttää.
ja mistä tää tulee että taako on trans? onko se vaan siitä kun se kielsi olevansa “man” kerran? mä ymmärsin sen niinkö ihminen tai w/e. ja justin on kuitenki sanonu että “male fellow” vai miten se oli. ei mul oo mitään probleemaa, headcanoninsa kullakin mutta eikö se oo aika epätodennäköistä että kaksosista molemmat olis trans :D ne on kuitenkin identtiset, eli niitten on pitäny olla samaa sukupuolta syntyessään, ts. molemmat poikia koska canonically, lup on transnainen...
@kyrpavuori ja @ultipoter huomasin että ootte taz faneja ni antakaas teidän mp :D
This wasn’t the story @ultipoter asked for, and I will most certainly get back to finishing the other one shortly, but I started writing this one this evening and managed to finish it in one sitting, so I thought I’d go ahead and post it!!
Please proceed to the story (2040 words) about bad cooking and an exploded family house under the cut :^)
The week had passed in relative quiet. Just like the week before, and the week before that, Ekram had spent a good majority of his time working in his study. Oksana didn’t really understand what “working” entailed most of the time, but whatever it was, it kept him busy for most of the hours in the day. Oftentimes, he’d finish in time for them to eat a late supper together, and as of late, she’d been trying new recipes every evening. She wasn’t the best cook in the world, and the first night she’d set a plate of something new in front of Ekram, she’d watched him take the first bite and he had visibly tried to school his face into a neutral expression. Thinking that he was just being picky, she’d shovelled a heaping spoonful of food into her own mouth only to immediately spit it back out into her napkin. That night, they’d ordered Chinese food and watched a movie instead. But as the days had progressed, she’d gotten both increasingly better at making different dishes, and increasingly creative with the dishes she chose. She tried a variety of plates from different countries. Some worked, while others had been tossed into the “do not make again” pile. All in all, it was nice. She got to spend time with Ekram in the evenings, and it gave her something to look forward to.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Oksana was preparing some ingredients for that night’s meal. Her short hair – she’d lopped the long locks off again recently, preferring the light airiness although Ekram always protested when she did so, sad to see the length go – had been pinned up on top of her head in a mess of red waves with glittery gold clips. The ornate vines and flowers that decorated them were inlaid with small, rounded cobalt blue stones that matched her eyes. Ekram shuffled into the kitchen a little earlier than usual, and took a seat at the table, watching her work. He still refused – to Oksana’s great dismay – to let her trim his hair, and the result was a style that matched her own; too long that it often fell into his eyes but short enough that it could only just barely be drawn and pinned away from his face without an interesting amount of time and effort. In this case, he would usually just pull as much of the unruly mop back as he could, into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. Oksana had grown tired of listening to his complaints when the hair wouldn’t obey him, and often chided him when he refused, time after time, to let her give him a trim. Oksana had come to think that he enjoyed his hair long, just as he enjoyed hers long too, but had taken up a hobby in complaining and just liked to make a nuisance of himself. But of course, even if he was a nuisance, he was her nuisance and she still regarded him just as fondly.
She had her hands under the tap, rinsing some vegetables when her phone rang on the table next to Ekram. He picked it up and looked at the screen.
“It’s Nikolai,” he said.
“Go ahead and answer it, see if there’s anything important.” Ekram slid his finger over the screen, accepting the call, and held the phone to his ear. Although Oksana didn’t hear anything on the other end of the conversation from her spot at the sink, she felt Ekram step up beside her and put the phone to her ear, holding it there for her to speak while she finished with her hands in the sink, placing his own hand on her other shoulder.
“Niko, what is it?” With her brother, like the rest of her family, she spoke Russian. His voice was strained on the other end of the line, the only indication that there was anything amiss at all. He wasn’t usually the type to show any emotion under duress, usually the one to be the calmest in the face of hard situations.
“You should come home, there’s been… an incident.”
Oksana’s brows knit together with worry, and she let the vegetables drop back into the sink basin before wiping her hands on her jeans and taking the phone from Ekram. “What’s wrong?”
When Oksana and Ekram arrived at her parents’ home, there was still a considerable amount of damage to the house itself. An entire section looked splintered, like someone had either blown it up, or driven a car through out. Quite honestly, it would have been a sight to make Oksana laugh had it not been a serious situation, which involved her parents, her own family. She stood, her face set in an expression of shock as she looked at the mess that had been made. Ekram slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her a fraction closer, offering silent support. This was a house that he, too, had been most familiar with. Although he hadn’t grown up in this house, as Oksana and Nikolai had, he’d spent a considerable amount of time there throughout his life, from the age of fifteen. The Belikovs’ father, Fyodor, had taken Ekram in in order to train his – at the time – young son, at the tender age of five years old. They hadn’t done any sort of intensive training, but little Nikolai had been a very attentive boy when it came to learning about weapons, and had been both a good listener, and when the time came, as good with weapons as anyone twice his age. Naturally his younger sister, Oksana who was at the time only four, had tagged along and wanted to do the same things as her brother. Ekram, fifteen years old, had tried his best to discourage her, but the more he tried, the more stubborn she became. Over the years, she had instead turned her attentions to Ekram, which had made him uncomfortable at first, with both the age difference of eleven years and later, as she grew older, the way she seemed to always try to catch his attention or shock him with her words. That being said, Oksana was just as much a master of weaponry as her older brother, and all that messing about never seemed to take away from her focus or cause her to make mistakes. She was serious when she needed to be, and Ekram had appreciated that. Eventually, the two had grown closer, and close enough that finally, he didn’t feel so uncomfortable at her advances, but rather simply wondered why exactly Oksana, who could charm just about anyone by batting her eyelashes, would still be so stubborn in pursuing him. He’d hadn’t, of course, ever asked her to clarify this.
The house was, indeed, in disarray to say the least. When Nikolai came to stand beside the two of them, Oksana and Ekram, his sister took his hand in hers and squeezed once before letting go. He informed them both that a few days before, there had been an issue with a job gone wrong. Fyodor was a weapons dealer, and usually dealt with some unsavoury sorts. This sort of thing didn’t happen very often, not very often at all she remembered her father saying. She’d never experienced any issues while living under this roof, and she’d been there for eighteen years before venturing out on her own (with her brother close by, of course). But this seemed like more than a “small incident,” as Fyodor was trying to explain. Oksana’s grandmother, Irina, had been injured at the time, which sent sharp spikes of worry through Oksana. Nikolai explained that she was fine, only a few minor scrapes, and that she would be fine in a matter of days. The old woman, nearly a couple centuries old, didn’t look a day over forty save for her shock of wintry blonde, almost white hair. It was a little strange to have such a young-looking grandmother, but Oksana still thought of her as being such, and worried about her just the same. Eventually Akilina, their mother, wandered over. A tiny, birdlike woman, she swept Oksana and Ekram up into a hug despite the fact that she was more than a full foot shorter than he was, and nearly a foot shorter than her daughter. She fluttered about them in greeting, pulling them down to plant kisses on their faces – even despite the fact that Ekram was a grown man. Akilina had always shown a fondness for him, and had considered her just as much a son as her own boy.
To Oksana’s dismay, some of her possessions had been destroyed during the mishap. She approached the mess, leaving her brother and mother with Ekram as she entered the house and sifted through the rubble in her room. Overall, nothing of terrible importance had been lost, although she was plenty distraught that her wardrobe had been remodelled in the blast and that some of the weapons wall she’d assembled over the years had met a most gruesome and untimely demise. Eventually, after she’d spent some time cleaning up the remains of her poor weapon-children, Ekram found his way back to her. She was sitting on the floor when he found her, dust streaking her face. She looked up at him with a smile, only briefly, before dragging a bag of trash and rubble to the corner of the room. Ekram glanced around, taking stock of the place. It reminded him fondly of his room at home, at the touches of Oksana that littered the place now that she spent more and more time there. She was generally mindful of where she left her belongings when it came to Ekram’s room, but now and then he’d find her clothing tossed over the back of a chair, a weapon tossed haphazardly in a corner. Here, the same had clearly been true, but to a far greater extent. He smirked a little, turning his head to glance at her desk, which had remained fairly untouched. He reached over and straightened a few of the knives that seemed as if they might fall off the desktop, when a particular, smaller blade caught his attention. He glanced once more at Oksana, who was still occupied with the remaining mess, and back again to the dagger, picking it up and palming it. The dagger was old, worn on the hilt from years of being handled. It was similar to his own favourite set of daggers, the sleek, dark ones inlaid with patterns of gold, opalescent and glittering when hit with just the right light. This one, too, was sleek, covered in designs of vines and thorns, small sharp blossoms interspersed throughout. The blade itself was polished to a shine, not a single speck of dirt, and it too was ornate and beautiful. Although it was ten years old, along the length of it were still engraved the words let your aim be true. He’d given her the dagger as a gift for her birthday when she was younger, after she’d mastered the throwing knives. She’d been delighted to keep the dagger close to her, though sometimes perhaps a little too close. He’d been afraid that the poor girl would slice herself open with the thing, and she often made him nervous that he’d given a minor a sharp weapon. Putting it back onto the desk, Ekram let out a little laugh, pushing away from the door frame where he stood and making his way over to Oksana now sitting in the middle of the floor. She was covered in a layer of dust now, and let out a small sneeze. When she’d finished rubbing her face, only succeeding in streaking her cheeks with even more dust, Ekram crouched and pressed a kiss to her hair, and wiped his fingers over the marks left on her cheeks, a smile in his eyes as he cleaned the mess from her face. Some things had changed over the years, but sometimes she still reminded him of the eager child who followed him around and clung to him, intent on learning just like her big brother.
oh!! Happy birthday! I hope you're having a good one <:
Thanks a lot! :) The sun is actually shining and it’s not snowing, so this year has already broken the trend of my birthday in the last several years. Hahaha.
