sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
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AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 27, 2017 9:13:00 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
He shouldn't have felt so nervous. [break][break] That's what he told himself for the umpteenth time while climbing the staircase. An elevator was readily available and the attendant on the ground floor directed him to it but he ignored them. Everything seemed as if it was just fading away in comparison to this one moment. Jean could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and a dryness in his mouth. As his hand raised to swipe against his neck, he could feel his palms were getting sweatier and the tips of his ears twinged red. There was no way that this could be the same Marco.[break][break] No, no. There was absolutely no way that was possible.[break][break] Marco died.[break][break] His Marco died, and whoever this was simply had the same name and he'd make sure that the people in Omega Five knew that.[break][break] They knew what they were doing to him. Using Marco's memory as a way to control him and then putting this fake in his path to keep him locked in. A classic manipulation tactic and he wouldn't fall for it. No, he wouldn't fall for it at all. There was only one Marco and that Marco was never coming back.[break][break] Jean steeled his resolve and straightened his back as he climbed the staircase. Every flight of stairs brought him closer and closer to the place where it would begin. A moment that would make or break him in ways that he couldn't possibly imagine just yet.[break][break] It's my room too, he reminded himself.[break][break] But he wouldn't share a room let alone a life with an imposter.[break][break] Taking out the key, he unlocked the door and twisted the handle, giving it a light push to crack open.[break][break] "Hello," he called out. "Is anyone here?"
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"] he does not know what he's getting himself into. Marco Bodt | [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 27, 2017 23:35:46 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: ahaha holy heck
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
When Marco opens his eyes that morning, wipes off the sleep, there's a strange feeling. Maybe it's just the fact that his nose is a little more blocked up than usual (crap, he'd better not be getting sick) or maybe it's because he takes longer than usual to find his glasses, but something doesn't feel quite...right. [break][break] But seeing as it's a weekend and he's managed to change around his shift with someone else so he can work later in the day, he's woken up just a bit later than usual. Sun streaming through the now-open curtains, he sets up the coffee to brew and grabs his laptop. He doesn't have nearly enough money to attend the university (yet), so he's been taking some free courses and looking through some English and Psychology textbooks. [break][break] He's pouring in some cream into his coffee cup when he hears a voice which stills him. Marco blinks. It's a voice from the past, hauntingly beautiful. He shakes his head -- it can't be. He must be hearing things. Maybe it's a remnant from some nightmare he'd had of dying. [break][break] But the telltale sign of a footfall on the entrance way tiles is far too real. [break][break] His pulse quickens, and, coffee forgotten, Marco steps his way towards the apartment entrance. It can't be, he thinks as he rounds the corner. [break][break] But it is. [break][break] It's Jean Kirschtein, in the flesh, just like out of his most cherished memories. He looks just a little more haggard than past Jean, but it's him. Or maybe not -- is Marco just hallucinating? Frankly, perhaps that'd be a step up from believing he'd died and rose again. [break][break] Marco's eyes are wide as he looks the man up and down. "Jean?" he asks, hesitantly, softly disbelieving. Is it truly...?
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 28, 2017 0:58:51 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Jean was used to the walls of his office where most of his belongings were hung up on walls adorned with post-its and notices. The atmosphere in the apartment was different than the room he'd lived in for so long. It was peaceful, warm, and yet he couldn't feel at home here. Someone was living in this space and they were supposed to be living with him. But how could he live with someone that shared his name but wasn't... [break][break] A voice called out his name and Jean's heart stilled. He felt sharp pricks to his eyes as someone turned the corner to stand in his pathway. The envelope under his arm forgotten, and the sound of his heartbeat reverberating in his ears. Freckled skin, a soft voice, dark hair and darker eyes that were focused on him. [break][break] Always on him. [break][break] And he could see himself in the reflection of those eyes. Warm tears brimming his eyes and slipping down his cheeks as he choked back a sob. This wasn't real, he tried to remind himself. It was just a mirage, a game that someone was playing with his head. [break][break] But it didn't stop him from dropping the envelope and rushing to gather him in his arms. Press his face against his shoulder to see if he'd phase right through him. Nestle a hand in his hair to make sure that he could take hold. [break][break] "Please be real." [break][break] The words were whispered and hoarse, wavering under the force of his plea to anyone that was listening that this wasn't a farce. [break][break] "You have to be him, please.." [break][break] Jean drew away and held his face carefully in his hands as if any sudden movements would break this. [break][break] "You're Marco," he muttered. "Marco Bodt, right?" [break][break] He drew in a stilled breath, eyes darting from left to right to take in all his features. This had to be him. [break][break] All wanting to expose Omega Five for the liars they were was pushed aside. [break][break] All he wanted was for Marco to be here and alive.
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
all of the bravado and all of the theatrics melt away when he comes home.
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 28, 2017 4:24:07 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: n/a
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
Marco's eyes roam, and he's glad he didn't pick up his mug of coffee -- he would've dropped it, let it shatter, and completely disregarded it. Because nothing mattered right now, no nothing except the man before him and that unruly hair and those hazel eyes. [break][break] And just as suddenly as he'd appeared, Marco finds himself enveloped in a crushing hug. He doesn't mind -- it brings warmth and memories and so much longing and it only serves to further confirm that this is a Jean of flesh and blood, and no phantom nor figment of his imagination. [break][break] Tears fall onto his cheeks, and the smile on his face is wide, far wider than it's been in years. His voice is choked, though it holds a gurgle of laughter to it. "I can't believe it," he murmurs, burying his face into Jean's shirt. He doesn't care that his tears are going to soak through -- heck, he could care less about anything at this point. Jean's here, and that's what matters. [break][break] The whispered question has Marco laughing in a strange combination of relief and happiness and excitement. "Yes, yes," he says, repeating the words to confirm the words uttered. He's Marco. Yes, he's Marco. Marco Bodt. [break][break] He is acutely aware of Jean's hands on his face. Of the long lashes adorning those seemingly lost eyes. The closeness between them. He has the sudden urge to kiss him, but he refrains. That...that is possibly just one step too far. It had been, before. [break][break] Instead, he reaches upward, wipes away a tear from Jean's cheek. "Jean, it's you, it's actually you," he murmurs. It's like a dream come true. He's spent all these years doing his best to forget, and yet -- here he is. Marco throws his arms around Jean, pulls him into another tight embrace. He talks into Jean's shirt, voice garbled by the fabric. "You're alive. You -- you didn't die, right?" he asks, wondering just how Jean had come here, come to the island.
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 28, 2017 5:46:59 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Relief spread through like wild fire as he heard Marco laugh. It'd been so long since he last heard his laughter and for it to be wrought with tears tugged at his heart. Jean could feel the tremble in his hands as Marco's face pressed against his shirt. His breathing stilled, the dampness making it all too clear that this wasn't a dream. [break][break] This was Marco. [break][break] He was Marco. [break][break] And Jean could care less about his shirt being soaked or the contents of the envelope left abandoned on the floor. Marco's laughter and the soft affirmations that he was himself nearly brought Jean to his knees. He couldn't help but take in every last bit of him as if it'd be the last moment he'd see it. As if this moment was just a dream and if he'd blink, he'd be waking up in his office alone and cold. [break][break] But Jean felt warm. [break][break] Marco wiped away a tear on his cheek and Jean cracked a little smile. His lip quivering and Marco grew blurry in his vision as the tears threatened to fall again. Nodding shakily, he sniffed and removed one of his hands to wipe at his eyes. [break][break] "Yeah, it's me," he whispered. "It's me." The corners of his lips hurt from smiling so much and his chest ached. Jean spent so many days crying alone and muttering the same name in his sleep but now, he was here. Marco was here and Jean nearly melted in his embrace, wrapping his arms around him as if trying to shield him from the world. "No, I didn't die." [break][break] But you did. [break][break] The words were caught on his tongue and he didn't dare say them aloud lest this be some sort of figment. Jean decided in that moment that he could put his cynicism aside. He could hold onto the person in his arms and just be. [break][break] "I missed you so much," he said. "I wanted to see you for so long. I—" [break][break] The words were lost on his tongue and Jean shut his eyes, burying one hand in Marco's hair and smiling softly.
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
all of the bravado and all of the theatrics melt away when he comes home.
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 28, 2017 18:02:25 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: n/a
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
Marco cannot stop shaking. Partially due to the sobs and crying, but most simply because he's trembling. It's as if whatever glue had held him together for half a decade has simply dissolved. Dissolved by Jean's presence, by the affirmation that it's him, that he's here. He's here. He's home. [break][break] There's a rush of relief upon hearing that Jean didn't die. At least, he didn't have to endure that pain and sorrow that Marco had. That complete disbelief that he was somehow alive again. Of phantom pains and nightmares. The agony of dying in the jaws of a Titan... [break][break] Jean's cracked voice says exactly what Marco's been thinking all this time. He's missed Jean, has wanted to see him, has wanted to know if he's okay, to know he's not dead in some Titan's arms, to just have him around for that smile -- [break][break] Marco sniffles, lets out another gurgling chuckle. "I missed you, too," he murmurs, his face warm and damp against Jean's shirt. His eyes are red and they sting with fresh tears, but he doesn't care. "But you're here. And I'm here." He doesn't want to let go, lest doing so means shattering some dream, and so he tightens his embrace. He feels Jean's hand in his hair, warm, comforting, and he smiles into Jean's shirt. [break][break] He's spent all those years pushing down those feelings, trying to continue this second life and leave behind the past, but damn does it feel good to have Jean in his arms. He feels so happy, as if he could burst. [break][break] And right now, he's content with holding on to Jean, content with staying in that embrace and making the moment last forever.
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
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AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 28, 2017 18:21:19 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Jean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and gave a long sigh. His cheeks hurt from smiling but he just couldn't help the feeling. Marco was here, and he was alive, and he missed him. Everything from their world could've been a horrible dream that anyone would be glad to wake from. But Marco missed him and wanted to see him and Jean never felt so light in his entire life. [break][break] Leaning out of the embrace so he could see Marco's face, Jean wiped the tear streaks from under his eye. "Red-faced with freckles," he mumbled. "You're going to look like a pizza by the end of this hug." He laughed at his own horrible joke, shaking his head and pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. All of that crying gave him a headache but he didn't want to let go. [break][break] I let go of him once, I'm not doing that again. [break][break] But something told him to turn around and look. So Jean reluctantly turned his gaze away from Marco to look at the envelope left on the ground. It was addressed to Marco, and he was sent there to deliver it, but he wondered what was inside. [break][break] Now that he had Marco in his arms, knew that this was his Marco, he didn't want him to be caught up with what he'd been through. Jean was prepared to throw away what little bit of his life was left for a crusade that he wasn't one hundred precently sold on. And looking at Marco— [break][break] Looking at the warm, smiling, wonderful Marco... [break][break] Breaking this for a little piece of reality just seemed too cruel. [break][break] "It's still early," Jean said. "I already ate but I can make you breakfast and we can talk."
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
jean-bo is about to whip it up in the kitchen. go cook for your boyfriend, jean. you got this.
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
[googlefont=Oswald:300,400,600] [googlefont=Roboto:400,700] [newclass=.manalishi]width:550px;background-color:#444444;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishil]background-color:#ffffff;border:solid 1px #eeeeee;border-right:0px;padding:34px;color:#555555;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop]margin:-35px -35px -115px -35px;width:350px;height:150px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltopp]border:dashed 10px #eeeeee;width:280px;height:180px;border-radius:100%;margin:-100px 0px 0px -60px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop2]font:30px Oswald;color:#999999;line-height:25px;text-shadow:-1px -1px 0 #ffffff,1px -1px 0 #ffffff,-1px 1px 0 #ffffff,1px 1px 0 #ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop3]font:bold 10px Roboto;letter-spacing:.5px;line-height:10px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost]font:10px Verdana;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost i]color:#aaaaaa;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost b]color:#999999;font:bold 11px roboto;line-height:12px;text-transform:lowercase;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir]padding:20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg2]border:solid 1px #999999;height:80px;width:80px;padding:4px;-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);margin:23px 0px -95px 25px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg]margin:0px 20px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg img]height:100px;width:100px;-webkit-clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2, .manalishir4]-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);height:33px;width:33px;border:solid 1px #393939;color:#999999;font-size:13px;line-height:33px;text-align:center;position:absolute;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2]margin:-2px 0px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir4]margin:-2px 0px 0px 83px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote]position:absolute;width:130px;height:150px;margin:-150px 0px 0px 360px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote1]font:bold 10px Roboto;line-height:10px;color:#999999;padding-bottom:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote2]padding:20px;background-color:#494949;width:90px;height:100px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote3]width:90px;height:100px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote4]font:10px Verdana;height:100px;width:150px;overflow:auto;color:#bbbbbb;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote5]width:90px;[/newclass]
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 29, 2017 18:37:33 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: duuuude
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
Red faced with freckles, Jean murmurs, and with the badly told joke (a pizza, of course only Jean would think up such a thing), Marco laughs once more. It's a laugh of relief and utter joy, because the joke only further confirms that this is indeed his Jean. [break][break] He's completely satisfied with just staying in Jean's embrace, but he can feel the other man shift to look at something, and so he leans backwards and rubs his cheeks and eyes with his sweater sleeve busily. He follows Jean's gaze to the envelope, but is quickly distracted by Jean's suggestion. His stomach growls at the thought of breakfast and he reddens at the sound. [break][break] "Y-yeah. That sounds good," he says quickly, trying to mask the grumbling of his stomach. "Um, I've got some coffee made," he adds. He's reminded that he's not even in proper clothes to go outside yet -- he's wearing a blue bunchy sweater over a loose white shirt and navy flannel pants. His pajamas. And his hair's probably all over the place. He must look a sight, he thinks to himself wryly. [break][break] Vaguely, he wonders if Jean will know how to use the new equipment -- how long ago had he arrived? Would he have already adapted to this new, futuristic lifestyle? They definitely didn't have these fancy electric stoves from their world. [break][break] "There's some eggs in the fridge and some mushrooms. I've -- I've been meaning to go grocery shopping," he remarks, recalling the emptiness of his fridge from memory. He'd planned to go shopping today or tomorrow. Obviously he hasn't gotten to it yet.
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 29, 2017 19:26:54 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Marco's laughter made him smile and laugh but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sounds of hunger. Jean folded his arms across his chest once Marco stepped out of the embrace and raised a brow knowingly. He's adorable, Jean thought. Marco's mused hair, a blue sweater that only drew more attention to his features, darker in comparison but charming enough. A part of him wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Marco's hair, just so he'd look at him and then -- [break][break] Stilling the thought, Jean pulled his hat off and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket. His hair was sticking up at various angles but it didn't matter. Marco wouldn't have judged him for it anyway, he thought. Nodding at the offer for coffee, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Marco's shoulders. Although the motion could've been considered a friendly one, he just wanted to stay near him a little longer. [break][break] Touch him a little more and make sure that this wasn't a dream. [break][break] "Don't worry about the shopping," he said. "I'll take care of it when I head back out." [break][break] His fingers tapped against Marco's shoulders as if he was judging the next few words that were racing from one corner of his mind to the other. A promise that he made to someone when he felt bold and confident. That he'd set things right, tell Marco everything, tell him how he felt when he saw him again. [break][break] And yet here he was chickening out again. [break][break] It was disgraceful. [break][break] "After all, I live here too." [break][break] He looked at him from the corner of his eye as they entered the kitchen. A little smile formed then disappeared just as quickly as Jean detached himself from Marco's side and went to fix himself a cup of coffee. [break][break] "Got any other mugs or styrofoam cups?"
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
lord have mercy, JUST TELL HIM BOY!
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
[googlefont=Oswald:300,400,600] [googlefont=Roboto:400,700] [newclass=.manalishi]width:550px;background-color:#444444;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishil]background-color:#ffffff;border:solid 1px #eeeeee;border-right:0px;padding:34px;color:#555555;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop]margin:-35px -35px -115px -35px;width:350px;height:150px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltopp]border:dashed 10px #eeeeee;width:280px;height:180px;border-radius:100%;margin:-100px 0px 0px -60px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop2]font:30px Oswald;color:#999999;line-height:25px;text-shadow:-1px -1px 0 #ffffff,1px -1px 0 #ffffff,-1px 1px 0 #ffffff,1px 1px 0 #ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop3]font:bold 10px Roboto;letter-spacing:.5px;line-height:10px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost]font:10px Verdana;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost i]color:#aaaaaa;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost b]color:#999999;font:bold 11px roboto;line-height:12px;text-transform:lowercase;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir]padding:20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg2]border:solid 1px #999999;height:80px;width:80px;padding:4px;-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);margin:23px 0px -95px 25px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg]margin:0px 20px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg img]height:100px;width:100px;-webkit-clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2, .manalishir4]-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);height:33px;width:33px;border:solid 1px #393939;color:#999999;font-size:13px;line-height:33px;text-align:center;position:absolute;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2]margin:-2px 0px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir4]margin:-2px 0px 0px 83px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote]position:absolute;width:130px;height:150px;margin:-150px 0px 0px 360px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote1]font:bold 10px Roboto;line-height:10px;color:#999999;padding-bottom:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote2]padding:20px;background-color:#494949;width:90px;height:100px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote3]width:90px;height:100px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote4]font:10px Verdana;height:100px;width:150px;overflow:auto;color:#bbbbbb;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote5]width:90px;[/newclass]
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 29, 2017 23:01:26 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: asdfajlsdjf;alsk
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
When Jean drapes his arm around Marco's shoulder, he thinks that the smile on his face simply cannot get wider -- and yet, it does. He instinctively reaches up his arm, pats Jean's hand. Almost like a suggestion to keep it there and around him. [break][break] Jean remarks that he'll do the shopping once he goes out, and Marco's brow furrows. No, he can't seriously trouble him to do such a thing. He's perfectly capable of getting his groceries, and in any event, he should be the one helping Jean, seeing as the other male's going to make breakfast for him. [break][break] "Ah it's fine -- " he starts, about to decline the offer, but then Jean adds that he lives here, too. Marco blinks. Wait, what? [break][break] "You -- you're...?" he utters, eyes wide with surprise. Marco's grin splits open again and he chuckles. "That's great! Uh -- welcome home," he says, scratching the back of his neck. He's ecstatic. Jean's going to be here, with him. It's like a dream come true. [break][break] He's snapped back to reality when Jean asks if he's got other mugs and he nods, reaching for a cupboard. "Yeah, mugs in here as well as plates and bowls. Um -- I can help with breakfast...?" he offers, realizing that all he's done to help so far is brew coffee. Jean looks busy, what with being up at this hour and delivering parcels and now apparently moving in to be Marco's roommate and offering to make breakfast? Seriously, when did Jean become so hardworking? [break][break] But it's great to see him flourish and smile like this. Marco can't help but redden at the memory of burying his face in Jean's shirt. A little embarrassing to have snot covering his face, yes, but -- heck, Jean had smelled good. [break][break] Marco shakes his head, distracts himself. "Cream and sugar?" he asks, moving to grab the sugar container. He'll grab the milk later -- he doesn't want to take Jean's arm off his shoulders quite yet.
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 29, 2017 23:48:53 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Welcome home.[break][break] The greeting was so simple but loved. He felt a swelling in his chest as he reached out to open the cuppboard. But this wasn't from some feeling of doubt or anger. He looked at Marco, smiling a little as he noticed the redness to his ears. [break][break] "Yeah, you can help."[break][break] Jean looked away from him to pull down a mug and set it down on the counter. But he suddenly became hyperaware of Marco's presence. His hand on his own, the smell of vanilla from his hair, and..[break][break] It wouldn't hurt to just try.[break][break] The traitorous voice in his mind tried to convince him that by taking the plunge he'd at least be doing something. He hadn't even been in Marco's presence for more than an hour and he was already hiding things from him. Guilt was a hefty weight to bare and seemed ever present on his shoulders. So he had to ask himself for what reason was he doing this?[break][break] He might reject me.[break][break] The voice in his mind voiced the concern that he wasn't willing to say aloud. A concern that he wanted to bury deep in his chest. But it was always possible. He would never force his affections onto Marco or expect the other to return them but -- What if he says no and I ruin everything?[break][break] Marco's smile.[break][break] His laughter.[break][break] Being able to see him without worry.[break][break] All of those things would disappear if he just took a chance and Jean's fingers curled into a fist around the handle of the mug. He could do this. He could just pretend that the feelings weren't there and proceed to live happily like this. With Marco, there would always be time.[break][break] Isn't that what you thought of last time?[break][break] His eyes widened by a fraction and he stole a glance to the freckled boy at his side. When he thought there would be time for them in the past, Marco died. And he was mixed into this shady business with Omega Five, who was to say that he wouldn't kick the bucket anytime soon. Worry, anxiety, fear of the unknown filled where love should've been and Jean steeled himself.[break][break] And then he remembered Marco's hand on his own. The feeling of warmth, safety, comfort, living. Jean's heartbeat slowed and he relaxed, loosening his grip on the mug. [break][break] When I see him again, I'll tell him everything. And then..[break][break] Pressing his hand against the counter, he leaned close to press a kiss to Marco's cheek. Leaning away Jean stared at him and waited.
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
...well, this went another way.
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
[googlefont=Oswald:300,400,600] [googlefont=Roboto:400,700] [newclass=.manalishi]width:550px;background-color:#444444;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishil]background-color:#ffffff;border:solid 1px #eeeeee;border-right:0px;padding:34px;color:#555555;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop]margin:-35px -35px -115px -35px;width:350px;height:150px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltopp]border:dashed 10px #eeeeee;width:280px;height:180px;border-radius:100%;margin:-100px 0px 0px -60px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop2]font:30px Oswald;color:#999999;line-height:25px;text-shadow:-1px -1px 0 #ffffff,1px -1px 0 #ffffff,-1px 1px 0 #ffffff,1px 1px 0 #ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop3]font:bold 10px Roboto;letter-spacing:.5px;line-height:10px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost]font:10px Verdana;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost i]color:#aaaaaa;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost b]color:#999999;font:bold 11px roboto;line-height:12px;text-transform:lowercase;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir]padding:20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg2]border:solid 1px #999999;height:80px;width:80px;padding:4px;-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);margin:23px 0px -95px 25px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg]margin:0px 20px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg img]height:100px;width:100px;-webkit-clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2, .manalishir4]-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);height:33px;width:33px;border:solid 1px #393939;color:#999999;font-size:13px;line-height:33px;text-align:center;position:absolute;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2]margin:-2px 0px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir4]margin:-2px 0px 0px 83px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote]position:absolute;width:130px;height:150px;margin:-150px 0px 0px 360px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote1]font:bold 10px Roboto;line-height:10px;color:#999999;padding-bottom:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote2]padding:20px;background-color:#494949;width:90px;height:100px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote3]width:90px;height:100px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote4]font:10px Verdana;height:100px;width:150px;overflow:auto;color:#bbbbbb;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote5]width:90px;[/newclass]
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Aug 30, 2017 8:16:04 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: n/a
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
Marco moves to grab the plates and cutlery for them both so as to prepare for when breakfast has been made. And try as he might to get himself to be serious and focus on cooking and helping, he simply cannot get rid of the smile on his face. There's this strange feeling in his chest, simultaneously light and yet so absolutely full that it feels like his heart's going to burst. [break][break] Sugar bowl in hand, he spoons out a teaspoon into his own mug. His question remains unanswered, and he looks upwards ever so slightly, tilts his head in Jean's direction. "Jean?" he asks. [break][break] And then -- Jean's lips on his cheek. It's sweet and caring and it's over before he can even truly realize just what had occurred. He blinks once, tries to wrap his mind around it, and it takes him a few moments to finally tell himself what he knows just happened: Jean kissed him. [break][break] Marco pauses, lifts his hand to brush the kissed cheek. He's tomato red now, he knows it, he can feel his ears and cheeks burning and his pulse is quickening at an alarming rate. It feels like a dream come true, like a wish fulfilled, and though Marco would be happy enough just like this, with Jean here at his side, it's not enough. [break][break] There's some part of him, too, that is unreasonably angry. Angry because he's spent half a decade trying to forget, trying to move on, and yet in one day the person he's been meaning to leave behind appears before him like out of a dream and brings him so much damn joy within less than an hour. Marco doesn't even know whether he's angry at Jean or himself or the island. [break][break] Or maybe he's not even angry at all. Maybe he's just shocked that after all this time of waiting and waiting, Jean might actually like him. The kiss -- maybe he's reading too much into it. Maybe it's just some gesture of surface affection. But Marco doesn't want to think of it as such. Whatever tangle of emotions he's feeling is enough to render him speechless. [break][break] It takes a few moments, but he finally finds his words, finds what he's going to do next. Finally gathers what he wants to say, though when he says it, he can't quite look Jean in the eye. "You're so unfair," he whispers, eyes stinging once more with tears like an overflowing of the soul. He looks up, meets Jean in the eye, and sets himself on the path to complete a wish he'd made all those years ago. [break][break] Marco reaches out with both hands and places them on either side of Jean's face, pulling him closer, and presses his lips against his. It's clumsy and awkward and impulsive but he keeps them there for a good second before breaking apart. He can't look Jean in the eye as his face turns red as a tomato. Instead, he glances to the side, clasps his hands together. His bunched sweater ripples as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. [break][break] Marco bites his lip. "Was...was that okay?" His voice is tentatively soft, gentle. Wary, even. Marco hopes he hasn't broken anything between them with this move, hasn't made something irreparable. He steals a glance at those beautiful hazel eyes, waiting with baited breath for an answer.
[newclass=.jarbtg]width:400px; margin:0 auto; border:10px solid #fff; display:flex; flex-wrap:wrap;}.jarbtgh { background:#aaa; width:400px; height:155px; position:relative; overflow:hidden;}.jarbtgicon { width:80px; height:80px; padding:5px; border:10px solid #fff; position:absolute; bottom:22px; left:22px; overflow:hidden; z-index:3; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgicon img { width:80px; height:80px;}.jarbtgtri { -webkit-clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); clip-path: polygon(0 0, 0% 100%, 100% 0); width:655px; height:655px; background:#444; z-index:1; position:absolute; left:-500px; bottom:-500px; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgtri { left:0px; bottom:-350px;}.jarbtglyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:900; font-size:70px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:-12px; line-height:100%; text-align:right; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgminilyr { font-family:Poppins; font-weight:600; font-size:20px; text-align:right; line-height:14px; color:#fff; position:absolute; right:-5px; bottom:48px; text-transform:uppercase; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtglyr { bottom:-202px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgminilyr { bottom:-150px; right:-155px;}.jarbtgnotes { width:200px; height:80px; padding:15px; border-left:3px dashed #ccc; position:absolute; line-height:100%; left:-250px; top:-227px; font-family:Poppins; font-weight:400; color:#fff; font-size:10px; z-index:2; transition:all 0.5s ease-in-out; overflow:auto;}.jarbtgh:hover .jarbtgnotes { left:150px; top:23px;}.jarbtgtag { background:#444; padding:7px; width:390px; border-top:10px solid #fff; font-family:Roboto; text-transform:uppercase; font-size:8px; text-align:left; letter-spacing:1px; font-weight:700; color:#fff; text-align:right; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px;}.jarbtgtag a { font-family:Roboto; font-weight:600; font-size:10px;}.jarbtgtextbg { width:400px; background:#aaa;}.jarbtgtext { width:280px; padding:40px; background:#fff; font-family:Roboto; font-weight:400; font-size:11px; line-height:13px; text-align:justify; border-left:5px dashed #ddd; border-radius:0px 20px 20px 0px; margin-top:5px; margin-bottom:5px;}.jarbtgtext b { font-weight:700;}.jarbtgcred { background:#444; text-align:center; padding:5px; font-family:Poppins; color:#fff; weight:400; width:400px; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;}.jarbtgcred a { color:#fff; text-decoration:none; font-size:8px; letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Aug 30, 2017 19:10:41 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"]
Is this what heartbreak felt like? [break][break] Jean believed that he loved Mikasa at one point in his life. He believed that he loved her for all that she was and he knew her in ways that no one else did. That she could understand him but he was blinded by rose-tinted glasses. Angered by Eren's incessant need to put himself in harms way when he had someone who was constantly chasing after him. But then he realized, that he didn't love Mikasa at all. What he felt for her was just attraction at the surface level, taking her strength and silence as indicators of her character, but when he saw her cry. [break][break] Saw her cry and hold Eren in her arms, he knew. [break][break] He knew that he didn't love her because he couldn't see the girl underneath the soldier. Jean felt he knew true heartbreak when he sat in a room among all of his sleeping comrades, back to the wall, thinking back on warm smiles and laughter. [break][break] Thinking back on Marco and all the things that he didn't say. [break][break] And then he cried. Cried because he was left alone despite being surrounded by so many people. Cried because he was stupid enough and blind enough not to see who was always at his side. He swore to make it right if he ever saw Marco again. [break][break] But looking at him now, dazed and confused, teary-eyed -- was it worth it? [break][break] He barged his way into Marco's life; a life free of Titans and the fear of dying. And in the matter of seconds was steadily unraveling what bit of comfort they had together. [break][break] Jean couldn't find it in himself to look away, shut his eyes and curse himself for being so stupid. His gaze was centered on Marco, everything else seeming to fade away as tunnel vision ensued. [break][break] You're so unfair. [break][break] His breath hitched in his throat as Marco met his eyes. [break][break] No. [break][break] No, no. [break][break] He didn't want to make him cry. And before Jean could open his mouth, beg forgiveness, Marco's hands touched his face. [break][break] Warm. [break][break] Soft. [break][break] Marco's lips against his own were soft, nice, and all too fleeting as he pulled away. Jean's hands were left in mid air as he took in the person in front of him. Unable to keep the smile from forming, hope arising where fear once was, and love. [break][break] Love. [break][break] He stepped forward to close the space between them, wrapping his arms around Marco to bring them together and pressing soft kisses to his face. [break][break] Behind his ear. [break][break] To his forehead. [break][break] His cheeks. [break][break] His nose. [break][break] Laughter came in the form of broken chuckles admist words. "Brush your teeth first," he said. "Then I'll kiss you." He smiled at Marco, raising a finger to tap against his lips. Tilting his head slightly, Jean pressed another kiss to his forehead, whispering against his skin. [break][break] He loosened his hold, reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead. "It was okay, Marco."
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
...well, this went another way.
| [attr="class","manalishir"] [attr="class","manalishirimg2"] [attr="class","manalishirimg"] [attr="class","manalishir2"][attr="class","ion-android-create"] [attr="class","manalishir4"][attr="class","ion-location"] |
[googlefont=Oswald:300,400,600] [googlefont=Roboto:400,700] [newclass=.manalishi]width:550px;background-color:#444444;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishil]background-color:#ffffff;border:solid 1px #eeeeee;border-right:0px;padding:34px;color:#555555;text-align:justify;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop]margin:-35px -35px -115px -35px;width:350px;height:150px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltopp]border:dashed 10px #eeeeee;width:280px;height:180px;border-radius:100%;margin:-100px 0px 0px -60px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop2]font:30px Oswald;color:#999999;line-height:25px;text-shadow:-1px -1px 0 #ffffff,1px -1px 0 #ffffff,-1px 1px 0 #ffffff,1px 1px 0 #ffffff;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishiltop3]font:bold 10px Roboto;letter-spacing:.5px;line-height:10px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost]font:10px Verdana;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost i]color:#aaaaaa;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishilpost b]color:#999999;font:bold 11px roboto;line-height:12px;text-transform:lowercase;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir]padding:20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg2]border:solid 1px #999999;height:80px;width:80px;padding:4px;-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);margin:23px 0px -95px 25px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg]margin:0px 20px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirimg img]height:100px;width:100px;-webkit-clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);clip-path: polygon(50% 0, 100% 50%, 50% 100%, 0 50%);[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2, .manalishir4]-ms-transform: rotate(45deg);-webkit-transform: rotate(45deg);transform: rotate(45deg);height:33px;width:33px;border:solid 1px #393939;color:#999999;font-size:13px;line-height:33px;text-align:center;position:absolute;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir2]margin:-2px 0px 0px 20px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishir4]margin:-2px 0px 0px 83px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote]position:absolute;width:130px;height:150px;margin:-150px 0px 0px 360px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote1]font:bold 10px Roboto;line-height:10px;color:#999999;padding-bottom:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote2]padding:20px;background-color:#494949;width:90px;height:100px;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote3]width:90px;height:100px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote4]font:10px Verdana;height:100px;width:150px;overflow:auto;color:#bbbbbb;[/newclass] [newclass=.manalishirnote5]width:90px;[/newclass]
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you fit me, tailor-made love, how you put it on
|
AGE 19, PRONOUNS he / him, JOB barista
CLASSIFICATION human, SOURCE attack on titan
45
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
|
Post by Marco Bodt on Sept 1, 2017 2:35:18 GMT
[nospaces][googlefont=Roboto:400,700|Poppins:400,600,900] [attr="class","jarbtg"] [attr="class","jarbtgh"] [attr="class","jarbtgtri"] [attr="class","jarbtgicon"] [attr="class","jarbtgminilyr"]and we're[break]standing side[break]by side as your[break]shadow crosses [attr="class","jarbtglyr"]MINE [attr="class","jarbtgnotes"]
NOTES: n/a
[attr="class","jarbtgtextbg"] [attr="class","jarbtgtext"]
Marco is unhinged. A tangled mess of anxiety and love and confusion and gladness. He hadn't actually thought through too much what he was doing -- his body moved on its own. His eyes are wide as he watches Jean, waits for a reaction. [break][break] The one or two second pause is enough for Marco's mind to swirl with endless apologies. Phrase upon phrase to try and make things right, if this isn't what Jean wants. Scenarios of him stepping back, turning away, silent, and simply letting it slide. And then -- the fake smiles, if need be. [break][break] But then Jean folds his arms around him, pulls him into another embrace, plants his lips on Marco's forehead, cheeks, nose, ear. And with each one, Marco's smile widens, bright like the sun. And then, Jean places his finger against his lips and grins that adorable quirked grin. [break][break] "Brush your teeth first. Then I'll kiss you." [break][break] Marco reddens, feeling the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. Crap -- he hadn't brushed his teeth indeed. Had his first kiss been coffee stained breath? Seriously? Way to mess up, Marco. [break][break] He nods at the request, raises a brow. "Okay. After breakfast," he says. Because it doesn't make sense to brush his teeth now and then again later. When Jean kisses his forehead, the smile breaks out wider than before, as if to seal the deal. [break][break] And damn if his heart doesn't flutter when Jean affirms that it was okay. That the kiss was okay. That Marco did fine. [break][break] As much as he wants to return the numerous kisses bestowed to him, he reins himself in and he pours coffee into his mug, along with sugar. Fetches the milk and pours in enough to satisfy and looks up at Jean. "Now to continue off from before -- cream and sugar?" he repeats, still smiling like a madman.
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sometimes i can hear his voice and it helps to drown out all the noise.
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AGE 19, PRONOUNS HE/HIM, JOB COURIER/OMEGA FIVE HITMAN
CLASSIFICATION HUMAN, SOURCE ATTACK ON TITAN
24
POSTS
RECENT
FUNDS
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Post by JEAN KIRSCHTEIN on Sept 1, 2017 20:41:36 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","manalishi"] [attr="class","manalishil"] [attr="class","manalishiltop"] [attr="class","manalishiltopp"] [attr="class","manalishiltop2"]I'M FOLLOWING THE MAP [attr="class","manalishiltop3"]THE MAP THAT LEADS ME BACK TO YOU [attr="class","manalishilpost"] If this was a dream, whoever woke him up would be beaten to a pulp. He wanted to scream and shout that the first time he took a chance it hadn't blown up in his face. Instead, he was staring eye to eye with the person that he wanted to hold for so long. And he liked him, Marco liked him enough to kiss him. Enough to miss him when they were apart from each other and Jean's heart should've stopped from how quickly it was beating. [break][break] It took most of his resolve not to reach out for Marco again. A fond little smile ever present on Jean's face even as he was offered the choice of cream or sugar. "Both," he muttered dazedly. He wasn't sure what it felt like to be a lovesick teen. His crush over Mikasa was just puppy love but this felt different. Almost like he was floating on air, his heart fluttering when Marco smiled in his direction. [break][break] "Oh." [break][break] Jean blinked and remembered that he had to at least pour coffee into his own mug. His face reddened in embarrassment as he turned away to do so. Sliding the mug over to Marco, he hesitated and stepped away from the counter. [break][break] "Do you mind putting it in for me, I want to try something." [break][break] He stepped behind him, reached out to wrap his arms around Marco's waist and bury his face against his hair. He felt so warm, and his hair was soft, even ticklish against his face. [break][break] "I really shouldn't have asked you to brush your teeth first," he grumbled with a sigh. "At this point I wouldn't have cared either way." [break][break] Jean pulled away, leaning down to kiss the back of Marco's neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed textbooks sitting on a table. After coming to the island he remembered being offered a chance to go to school but rathered to work instead. [break][break] "You're in school?"
[attr="class","manalishirnote"] [attr="class","manalishirnote1"]EXTRA NOTES [attr="class","manalishirnote2"] [attr="class","manalishirnote3"] [attr="class","manalishirnote4"] [attr="class","manalishirnote5"]
he got caught staring or at least caught himself staring and diverted the conversation, typical jean.
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