May 27, 2018
Can I please have some suggestions for a fc who could play a 17-18 year old Lorna Dane/Polaris? Preferably half-Jewish, but otherwise, any ethnicity.
joey king (18)
madison beer (19)
kira kosarin (20)
hailee steinfeld (21)
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Can I please have some suggestions for a fc who could play a 17-18 year old Lorna Dane/Polaris? Preferably half-Jewish, but otherwise, any ethnicity.
joey king (18)
madison beer (19)
kira kosarin (20)
hailee steinfeld (21)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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☠ (Klara)
“Esti fetita mea. Ты моя маленькая девочка.”
Comfort (Alex) (reverse if you want)
While Alex dropped in and out of the mansion frequently, Hank wasn’t expecting him back for at least another couple of months when he pushed open the front doors as if he were coming home. But he wasn’t alone, by the back of the neck he had a teenage boy with bandages wrapped around his head to cover his eyes. The stark resemblance, despite the bandage and dark hair, between Alex and the boy gave him pause as he opens his mouth to greet Alex. “Is that...?” he starts but it’s unmistakable.
To the others Alex looked proud, like he was bringing in the next generation of X-Men from his own family. He showed Scott around with a smirk on his face, introducing him to the Professor, and Jeannie, and got him settled in like he was going to college. Instead of a boarding school for mutants that had nowhere else to go. It didn’t take long for Hank to come up with a solution for Scott, the shades would keep him from harming anyone until he could find out a way to help him more permanently. Yet from the history that’d been shared with him, Hank didn’t think he could do much good.
It’s that night when the house grew quiet and they shared a beer in the kitchen that Hank saw right through him. Alex had never felt in control of his life, of his powers, of anything. And here he was having to watch his little brother, the most important person in his life, go through the exact same thing. Hank watches the tension rolling through the other man’s back as he lifts his beer to his lips again, the unfocused look in his eyes as he swallows slowly.
“Hey,” Hank says softly, setting his own beer down. He slides his arm around the front of Alex’s shoulders and yanks the other man closer to him with a hand planted in his blonde hair. “He’s going to be fine. Huh? He’s with family now, and we’ll take care of him.” He holds Alex’s stooped form to his chest for a moment longer before releasing him and placing a firm pat above his heart, a thousand watt smile on his mouth.
🎂
YOUR MUSE CELEBRATING MINE’S BIRTHDAY WITH MINE
“Oh you shouldn’t have,” Darcy drawls like she’s from the South, with a hand going to her heart. But if Reyna hadn’t brought her the cake, this very cake that looked like it had enough chocolate on it to send the healthiest person into a diabetic coma, she would have complained til someone bought her one. As her sister lights the candles with her fingertip, she looks at Isla who is basically buzzing in her seat and winks. Ophelia is behind Reyna, arms wrapped around her as she watches over the shorter woman’s shoulder while she lights the cake. “There are no hats, Reyna. I want hats,” the birthday girl continues, putting on a very convincing pout. “I want hats, and I want those noise makers the ones that go.” She makes eye contact with Isla before they both start making an obnoxious blaring noise with their mouths. Two very different noises, but annoying all the same.
❄ Klara
YOUR MUSE THROWING A SNOWBALL AT MY MUSE @moreweaponthangirl
When Pietro had agreed to work here, it was to keep close to Wanda, and now he had several reasons to stay. None of them having to do with shoveling the goddamn sidewalk. He was supposed to be a coach, damn it, not a groundskeeper. He mocks Hank as he shovels, “We all have to do our part, Pietro.” He makes his voice much higher than it is but that’s how it sounds to Pietro. Obnoxious and screechy. Full of himself. He imagines the iced over ground is Hank’s face just for a moment as he breaks it up. He’s throwing the shovel-full to the grass when it hits him.
His hand goes to the back of his neck to find a glob of melting snow, ice cold to the touch and melting even faster under his thanks to his molecules working over time to keep him warm out here. Shaking the snow off his fingers, he begins to look for the culprit with a fiery gaze. Ready to give them a good whack with the shovel once he found the little fucker. But then his eyes find her, a very out of place little wolf hanging by a tree. Coat and scarf neatly folded beside her. His gaze simmers to adoration and he shakes his head. “You’re going to get it, little one.”
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☕ (Lorna, ignore the other mug w no name)
YOUR MUSE BRINGING MINE A WARM DRINK @mistressxfmagnetism
She hadn’t spoken to him since they got back, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On one hand he understood, the things he’d done were terrifying in retrospect even if she’d had thought they were necessary when they were in the midst of it. But maybe Lorna had realized he wasn’t good for her. Good enough for her. He wanted to be her big brother, wanted to be someone she could look up to but he’d never been a role model. He didn’t know why he was trying to be.
So when she appears at his door, mugs in hand he looks at her with a guarded expression. Pietro couldn’t ruin her the way he’d ruined Wanda, the way he was currently in the process of ruining Klara. “Hey skinny thing,” he says somewhat affectionately and holds out a hand for one of the mugs. He could only assume one was for him and he’s sort of hoping for something alcoholic but instead is met with cocoa. Good enough. He hums, taking a sip and tapping the bed beside him. “How are you feeling?”
🎸 (Wanda)
YOUR MUSE PLAYING MUSIC/SINGING FOR MY MUSE @seeingscarlct
Beneath the bridge was filthy, but it was dry. They could always launder their clothes with some stolen coins but he didn’t have nearly enough money for a doctor should one of them get sick from the rain. So beneath the bridge they huddled together, listening to the rain and cars. The shouts and life of the city surrounding them. Pietro doesn’t remember the last time they’d seen green, miles and miles ahead of them there was just asphalt. America, concrete at every corner. He hated it, he wished for home. He wished for their uncle’s cabin and even for the farm he’d loathed waking up early to tend to every morning. He missed the goats, and the hens that followed him around trying to get feed from his pockets. But he had her.
He watches her from where his head is cushioned in her lap. Her dark hair looking slick like ink from the lights and shadows the rain was casting off the car oil and gasoline lining the street. He plays with her fingers, entwined with his on his stomach. And above all the noise surrounding them, he hears her voice. Like an angel, like one from their memories. A voice he hadn’t heard since they were barely out of diapers. She looked more and more like their mother every day too. Rich, caramel skin and round eyes that compelled you to love them no matter what. And he loved her, he loved her so much he could barely look away as she sung to him. She sounded better than heavenly, she sounded like home.
👶 (Prank)
YOUR MUSE REVEALING THAT THEY ARE PREGNANT WITH MY MUSE’S BABY
Maybe he’d have laughed it off straight out the gate if Roza hadn’t just shown up a few weeks ago with his undeniable, flesh and blood, infant daughter. Instead Pietro is staring at Reyna in abject horror, trying to do some math in his head. When was the last time they slept together? She still looked skinny as ever, then again he’d met women built like her who didn’t even look pregnant until their last trimester so it wasn’t like it was impossible. He holds up his hand, counting the months on his fingers while occasionally squinting at her like staring at her would help him remember. That probably made him look shitty, didn’t it? Not remembering when was the last time they had been intimate. That thought, in case she was telling the truth, makes him abruptly put his hand down and instead stare intensely at the ceiling above them.
“Not that I wouldn’t be.... thrilled,” he says tightly, trying to find the right words for this. Trying not to get burned quite literally for being a dumbass here. But as his eyes drift back to her he sees the laughter damn near about bursting at the seams of her lips. His face turns to stone before his eyes narrow and that’s when her laughter fills the room. “You little-” He makes a dive for her but he should have known she’d disappear into the shadows before he could reach her. “I will catch you, little shit!”