#'you have ADHD so you must like glitter!!"

[biathediamond]

i really do mean it when i say that ADHD is one of the most misunderstood/misrepresented mental disorders and that i genuinely can tell when you got diagnosed off tiktok

[cripplecharacters]

Sorry to bother you,

Your blog is wonderful! Since it's one of the most dialogue/explanation oriented, i wondered if i may please come to you with a more general doubt. i'm sincerely confused... Why is "curing" disability bad per se?

So far, the arguments (on Tumblr) seem to be,

i. Consent.

ii. Generalisation. ("Everyone will want this same thing".)

iii. The undercurrent ideology holding disability as a flaw to be "cured" (including the use of the term "cure").

On which we all agree, they're implicitly bad no matter if it's disability or a haircut. Very well.

But.

What of magical healing per se is inherently bad? Because being given a choice implies that for every given person agreeing, there are going to be others who won't. So we should still write our fantastical society around them, that's not in any way in question.

But these, the possibility of magical treatment and the non-necessity of the same, are not mutually exclusive. You don't have to "take one before the other", they can very well coexist.

Last question (i promise), is seeking treatment for oneself bad?

Like, if there came up a quest to get the glittering flower blooming once a millennia guarded by the Evil Dragon of Evil and capable of magically taking away OCD and PTSD, sign me up! Or if there's a spell to resuscitate my thyroid or an alchemical pill that solves ADHD's executive dysfunction. i mean, that's kind of what my medications should do if they weren't so costly and inaccessible, and that would be a one-time thing too.

Autism's doing alright, i'd keep everything, thanks.

Disclaimer, i'm obviously not advocating for eugenetics (as this term has been often used and misused in these discussions, better to precise).

All these conditions in one way or another define me and effect my life in a pervasive, quotidian way, or/and on a more existential scale. Not always in bad ways -my life is not a tragedy, and this i wish to make clear. i'm not saying that a "magic cure" should come before a change in society to accommodate disability. What i'm advocating for is their coexistence, as a choice -not evil per se, but nocive if inserted in a context of ableism, negation of individual consent, and, indeed, choice.

Or at least that was what i was arguing for until a few months ago. Now however, seeing as the collective opinion is one of strong rejection for these ideas, i believe there must be some important fallacies in my reasoning, and i wish, before everything else, to correct them. To understand.

Sorry for the monologue, but, may you help me?

Thank you for your time and for your kindness,

Anonymous Sloth.

Thank you for your ask! The reason curing disability is bad in media is because the disabilities cured often cannot be cured in real life. People with incurable disabilities already have so little representation, taking away the characters they see themselves in with an impossible cure is incredibly disheartening. I live with multiple incurable physical conditions, and I’ve accepted that I’ll live with them for the rest of my life. Day to day I already deal with people saying how much better my life would be if I didn’t have these conditions I had no choice in getting, I don’t want to see that in my stories! If someone has my conditions I don’t want the author to get rid of them with magic, I want to see that character going on cool adventures and being badass! Sure a magical cure might be nice, but that’s never going to happen. I’m going to be living in this body for the rest of my life, and I want to see stories where people like me get to live their lives with their conditions!

Disabled people should be allowed to see themselves in sci-fi and fantasy stories! People who can’t be cured, who can only have their symptoms managed, who have to be on medication/assistive devices the rest of their lives and who don’t want to be cured should be allowed to see themselves in media without the constant reminder that most able bodied people think their lives would be so much better is they would simply stop being disabled.

Additionally, even conditions that do have cures or ways to manage them aren’t realistically portrayed. There are never any symptoms, side effects or rehabilitation, it’s always portrayed as a magical cure that completely gets rid of the disability. This rarely happens in real life, and I don’t think it’s wrong for someone who shares a condition with a character to want to see that condition accurately portrayed.

It’s perfectly fine for a disabled person in media to want to seek treatment, plenty of disabled people in the real world also have to fight to get treatment (though the fighting is usually against insurance and doctors, not dragons and wizards). But like I said above, it should be at least somewhat realistic. The world is already over saturated with stories of people getting magical cures that make everything better forever, but what about cures with long lasting or permanent side effect? What about healing that requires extensive physical therapy? Or someone who needs to take potions for the rest of their lives to manage their condition? These realities should also be portrayed. Sure maybe some people want to see an escapist fantasy where their conditions could get cured, but not everyone wants that and it’s almost entirely done by abled authors who fathom why anyone would want to see a disabled person who isn’t trying to ‘overcome’ their disability.

We’ve also reblogged this post & answered this ask that deal with similar topics if you want to check them out.

I hope this helps! Have a nice day,

Mod Rot

-

Everything Mod Rot said.

Basically, it's like giving us representation and then taking it away. Readers with that disability are going to read that book and relate to that character. Having a character like you in a work can be so important. But then the character is magically cured of an incurable condition, and now they're completely abled. Good for them. But the reader is still disabled. The reader will still always be disabled.

Disabled representation is already so rare. It's not really nice to take away what little we have.

- Mod Aaron

Echoing what everyone else has said, I want to add an extra thing:

If there was a wealth of disabled characters in media, represented with respect and nuance and care and all that, some stories involving disability being cured wouldn’t feel out of place, because there would already be so much to see that it would be an interesting departure and not posed as the only option for a happy ending.

And if you’re writing something about curing a disability that you have because that’s your experience and it’s what you want, that would make sense as well.

But since so many representations of disability in media have the underlying message that the only way to truly be happy or worthy or whatever with a disability is to have it cured, to have the least amount of signs of disabilities ever, then adding more of the same to that can be not just frustrating but harmful.

An “overcoming” of disability, a “making invisible” of a visible disability, or a cure for a disability are not the only stories worth telling about disabled people—because they are also not the only lives worth living for disabled people.

— mod sparrow

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Hey so I’m confused about nevermore like… what is it’s actual purpose?

so i believe Nevermore was originally intended as a medicine for faeries living in the mortal world so they could withstand the high iron concentration in the atmosphere around cities. my sources have told me this is discussed at greater lengths in Modern Faerie Tales (particularly Valiant?), though i have not actually read the series myself.

in TFOTA, however, it appears to be used recreationally:

“[...] nevermore, a glittering golden powder so concentrated that it stupefies faeries and gives mortals the ability to glamour one another.” –The Cruel Prince, Ch. 12

there are some who suggest this difference is just an instance where Holly had an idea of what Nevermore was for MFT, and that idea morphed into something else later when she was writing TFOTA. that the difference is primarily just a world-building inconsistency due to The Passage Of Time(TM).

and while the former might be true, i'd argue that Nevermore, within the context of two separate cultures, would in fact serve different purposes.

i'll use the analogy of ADHD stimulant medication (since i am ADHD so it's my prerogative).

if someone with ADHD takes Adderall, it is a medication, because Adderall chemically balances something in their body which is inhibiting their everyday life (lack of dopamine, if you didn't know).

if someone without ADHD takes Adderall, they will experience a high. a stupefication, if you will. because they already have sufficient dopamine, and Adderall provides an influx of dopamine.

similarly, in the mortal world, faeries must chemically balance their systems to tolerate iron because human cities use iron in abundance. to do this, faeries living in the mortal word take Nevermore as a medication to balance the negative effects iron has on their bodies.

on the Shifting Isles of Elfhame, however, there is presumably zero iron. or at least very little of it since iron could potentially occur naturally in their environment. regardless, the people living on the islands don't need Nevermore to nullify an excess of iron in their systems, and therefore, Nevermore produces a drug-like effect in faeries as well as humans.

the reason it is still consistent is because we are receiving information about Nevermore from biased characters living in two separate cultures, who might not know how it is used in other Faerie cultures.

–Em 🖤🗡️

more theories & analysis

[gryficowa]

I get annoyed with people who argue that I should like Marinette because, like me, she is neurodivergent and traumatized by being a scapegoat.

But it's clear that Marinette can get away with everything, and so does Thomas, who wrote it so shitty because it's his imaginary daughter with his ex

And there's also a ridiculous argument that we don't like Marinette because of her flaws. Well, stalking is an innocent flaw, right, fandom?

It annoys me that many people use the argument about ADHD and her trauma of being a scapegoat as an argument, it's clear that the episode where they trashed Chloe and Kim completely took away your ability to think

Look what characters I have on my profile, so in this context you can see how I'm laughing at this argument defending Thomas' bad writing

Luz Noceda is also a neurodivergent character and has a similar trauma to Marinette (And the further away, the more serious this trauma), seriously, Luz also has flaws (And unfortunately, she was attacked in the fandom because she brought snakes to school, I FUCKING BROUGHT SPIDERS TO SCHOOL , MAYBE NOT VENIOUS, BUT I BROUGHT FUCKING SPIDERS, but remember, Marinette must be loved, because she's so poor, isn't she?)

Hell, I even like Beetlejuice from the musical (Even though my conscious is telling me: What the fuck are you doing? Do you like creep? YOU ARE AROACE), so the argument about Marinette's flaws is ridiculous and fandom, seriously, not every neurodivergent and scapegoated person will love Marinette like you because writing it downright insults neurodivergent and traumatized people, damn it, do you seriously like shit with glitter?

I have the impression that people are seriously crazy in these fandoms, they hated Luz Noceda, but they defend Marinette without a second thought (Because she's probably half white and Luz is Latino)

I am a national minority in my country (I am Kashubian) and from my own perspective I know that even smaller ones than me are treated worse by fandoms (Unfortunately, they are often called "Gypsies", even people from the USA call them that, and the word itself means "Thief", so yes, it has bad connotations) As seen in the case of Luz Noceda), seriously, because if Kashubians are relatively open, then in other areas of Poland not very, in the sense, Roma ( or other groups are often attacked (This can be seen from Facebook and comments on them, which is why I left it and ended up on tumblr)

A famous Roma woman is Viki Gabor (who unfortunately received a lot of hateful comments due to her ethnicity)

I don't know what it's like in the US with Latinos, but I have the impression that Luz Noceda had a bigger attack because of her origins (while Marinette had a smaller attack because of being half white)

So yes, you defend the stalker and explain it as neurodiversity/trauma, and you bash another character for the same thing

So stop telling us that we have to like Marinette just because of trauma and her being neurodivergent, because that's disgusting and you're negating other people that you prefer to trash because they don't fit into these groups that you can feel sorry for

[into-the-linkverse]

Of rupees and Koroks

my first LU fanfiction! I am horrible at endings so...yeah. i definitely went off the rails from my original plan (ADHD my beloved) and I am SO SORRY in advance if any of the characters are OOC.

“Okay, and that would come to…200 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio cheerfully stated, holding up the bottle of shimmering red potion for War to admire. The warrior actually scoffed upon hearing the intended price.

“Something wrong, War?” Legend asked, his back leaning against a rather large crate.

“No, no, it’s just…really cheap.” War pointed towards the potion. Both Legend and Ravio blinked blankly. Legend’s face soon turned into one of severe confusion, whereas Ravio’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“200 rupees? Cheap? Were you hit in the back of the head by a bulbin?!” Twilight almost shrieked from his side of the Barnhouse He stopped playing with the cows and quickly jogged over to Ravio’s makeshift shop.

“Back home, a red potion would cost around 10,000 rupees. Isn’t that the case here?” War stated eyebrow raised as Twilight began twitching at the mention of the rupee count. Ravio’s jaw practically dropped.

“My wallet can’t even hold that!”

“Hey, I heard screaming. Who’s dead?” The barn’s door creaked open to reveal Wind, accompanied by a sweating Sky and an unfazed Four.

“War said a red potion would cost 10,000 rupees in his world!” Legend blurted out, almost barking at the heroes. Four huffed for a second, then walked up to Ravio and snatched the red potion.

“Hey, 200 rupees, y’know!”

“This. Costs 20 rupees.” He pointed at the potion, as War soon broke down in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny, pretty boy?” Legend folded his arms.

“You guys must be broke! 20 rupees? That can’t buy you shit!” He managed to get out before banging his fist against the hay covered ground.

“Hey, watch your language!” Sky shouted, moving to cover Wind’s pointy ears. “There are children here.” He lowered his voice as Wind swatted his hands away.

“Okay, okay, I’m trying to run a business here. Let’s go…2,000 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio clasped his hands together, only to realize the item he was selling was nowhere on the table.

“Um…Mr. Smithy? My red potion?”

“Oh, sure.” Four passed the glittering potion back to the purple-haired hero, acting as if he wouldn’t be committing a crime if he didn’t hand it back.

“Here you go, Mr. Captain Hero Sir! Please come again!” Ravio smiled gleefully, having 2,000 rupees handed to him like it was nothing.

“Pfft- I guess War really is a rich snob.” Twilight sniggered, shaking hands with Legend in a mutual agreement.

“Hey, you take that back, farmers!” War shouted, fiddling with his glove as if preparing for a fight.

“War, you realize you’re saying that on a ranch?” A voice called from outside. The door was already opened (Wind forgot to close it) so it was easy to tell that the voice belonged to Time.

“Oh, hey, pops, wanna help us take on pretty boy?” Twilight greeted happily, only making Warriors more enraged.

“No, I’m quite fine. But thank you for the offer anyway. Hyrule asked me to collect you all. He’s having trouble with something. And for Nayru’s sake, behave yourselves.” Time explained to the group, trying not to bring up the fact that he almost locked them in the barn to keep them out of trouble.

“What do you mean “something”? I thought nothing happens on this ranch!” Wind protested, running his hands through his hair, obviously trying to make himself more presentable.

“I have no clue what the deal is myself. Wild and Hyrule are already investigating.”

“Those two? They were better hosts than us?” Warriors looked almost horrified at the idea of being upstaged by Wild of all people.

“Do you want to be cooped up in here all day?” Time asked, almost laughing at War’s sudden reaction.

“Come on, let’s get moving now!” Warriors announced, starting to direct (push) the other heroes out of the barnhouse.

Hyrule was ecstatic. He’d been picking up stray rocks for weeks in hopes to find the small beings called Koroks. Wild had told him all about the strange little creatures that hid under rocks and in trees, and Hyrule soon became intent to find one. At last, at the gates of Lon Lon ranch, Hyrule mindlessly picked up a rock and proceeded to shout in happiness.

“Wild! Wild! I found one!” He cried, perking the ears of the long-haired Hylian. Wild rushed over, practically throwing the Cucco he was holding. He jogged over, only to stop a few feet away from the brown-haired hero.

Hyrule’s eyes were alight with glee, his smile looked like an innocent rabbit’s. He tossed the rock aside, unfortunately landing on Wild’s foot, as he winced. He placed the rock to the side and crouched down to the Korok’s level.

“Yahaha, you’ve found me!” The Korok excitedly squealed, Wild rolling his eyes as he heard the line for the 400thtime. Hyrule nodded in response, too glad to speak and ruin the moment. Before he knew it, Hyrule was handed a small, foul seed. He looked confused for a second and looked up to Wild.

“Yeah…not that impressive, is it?” He sighed, snatching the seed from Hyrule, and adding to his collection. Hyrule blinked as he saw Wild open to pouch to see a mountain of the horrid smelling things. “Gotta get these back to Hestu sometime.” He casually stated, closing his pocket again.

“Buh-bye!” The Korok exclaimed, waving his small, rounded hand towards the two Hylians. Hyrule was not having this. He had spent two weeks searching for the little creatures, and when he does, he’s just supposed to say good-bye after minutes of meeting one? He reached out his arms and took the Korok up to his torso in one swift movement.

“I shall name him Peppers and he shall be mine!” Hyrule proclaimed loudly, much to Wild’s shock. He tried to wrangle the Korok out of Hyrule’s embrace, but the Korok spoke up.

“Actually, I’d love to be Mr. Hero’s friend!” It chirped, sinking into Hyrule’s green tunic. “Aw, see? He likes me!” Hyrule cuddled the Korok, adding a whiny tone to his words. Wild groaned, as he almost felt like Time, having to take care of someone like this.

“You’ll have to ask Time if we can keep it.” He sighed, poking the pointy nose of the leaf faced spirit. As if from nowhere, armored footsteps approached the two Hylians. “Keep what?” The firm voice spoke, making Wild jump for a moment.

“The Korok…?” Hyrule trailed off, still clutching the forest spirit. As the chain came into sight, some stood dumbstruck, whereas Wind’s eyes widened drastically. “Korok!?” The pirate pointed; mouth open wide as he bolted to Hyrule. “What in Din’s name is a Korok?” War groaned; his breath slightly hilted from jogging across the ranch.

“I’m not sure myself…but it definitely looks cute!” Time let slip a small remark of childish nature, a warm smile creeping up on his face. Legend soon ran up to his descendant and grabbed the Korok out of his hands.

“Where’s this little bugger from anyway?” He mumbled, turning the spirit face down to have a proper look at it. He furrowed his brow, then turned to Ravio, gestured to see if the rabbit hero had any clue about the creature. Ravio simply shrugged at him. “Hey! He isn’t some toy to be held like that!” Twilight shouted, scooping up the Korok from Legend’s hands. He held it carefully on his shoulder as one would a cat, as the Korok began playing with Twilight’s hair.

“I’m the best at dealing with animals here. I say we keep it,” Twilight nodded as the Korok’s hands started folding braids into his hair. “Peppers.” Hyrule quickly added, placing a hand on the little Korok’s back. “What’s this about p-peppers?!” Four almost leapt out of his skin after hearing “peppers”. Wild simply laughed and wrapped an arm around him.

“His name is Peppers!” Hyrule said once again, a smile dawning on his face. “Why peppers, though?” Four protested, his disdain for the food clear as day. Wind coughed a bit, trying to hold in a laugh. Sky gave him a light pat on the head and shook his head, mouthing “don’t”.

“Well, I think it’s a great name! Did…Did Wild pick it out?” Sky laughed wistfully, trying to discourage Wind from making fun of Four. “Nope, completely ‘Rule’s idea.” Wild answered, causing Four to instead eye Hyrule suspiciously. Legend folded his arms and let out a huff as Ravio giggled behind him. “Perhaps he’d be interested in renting?” Legend twisted around as Ravio flatly suggested.

“No one in their right mind would be interested in renting, Ravio.” He scoffed, turning back to face the rest of the chain. “I, personally, don’t want it. What if it steals our items and flees in the night?” War accused, pointing a finger towards the creature. A paranoid Warriors, Time couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, the Korok’s come from the Lost Woods. They’re the children of the Great Deku Tree, so I’d doubt they’d do that.” Wild explained, peaking the attention of Time. If the Korok’s were from the Lost Woods, he would have seen some by now, wouldn’t he? Or maybe they only showed up far after his era…

“Wait! You’ve met the Great Deku Tree too?!” Wind’s small figure jumped up, tugging on Wild’s tunic. Twilight eyed the older hero for a moment, he seemed…off. Korok still in arms, he strode up to Time and placed his free hand on his shoulder. “You alright, dad?” Time snapped out of his state of thought and quickly waved it off.

“I’m fine, just…glad that the Deku Tree still exists to them, I guess.” Time replied wistfully, his gaze trailing to the two blue-clad heroes, sharing their experiences with the ancient talking tree. “He was the…closest thing I had to a father.” His next comment caught Twili completely off guard. Does that mean he was related to a tree?

“Wait, your dad was a tree?! Are you joking?” Twilight exclaimed a bit too loudly, catching the attention of Four and Sky, who had been watching the unfolding chaos. Sky’s eyes widened immensely, full of curiosity as he quickly trotted over.

“Time’s father? A tree? My, that must be an interesting story!” Sky clasped his hands together in delight, eager to learn more about the mysterious Time.

“No, the Deku Tree was the closest thing to a father I ever had. I am not part tree.” Time had to hold back a snicker as he clarified that he was not of leafy descent. “I doubt that. Your hair is a very light shade of green.” Four pointed out, raising a hand to his chin in deep thought.

“I think that colour’s called yellow, dumbass.” Wind called from where he stood. Sky growled for a moment then proceeded to shout back: “Watch your language!”

For the rest of the evening, the chain shouted and argued, but settled on to keeping the Korok, naming it Peppers, much to Four’s disgust.

@bokettochild I hope you don't mind I borrowed Ravio's nicknames for everyone :)

[perseabethj]

glue guns and glitter

25 days of Christmas prompts by @annabethy.

Day 10: Christmas Crafts. Maybe putting two seventeen-year-olds in charge of seventy ADHD kids was not a good idea.

“Point that glue gun at me one more time and I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”

Percy laughed and lowered the glue gun, looking at her with a suggestive look in his eyes.

“I can think of at least four different things that I would rather you do in bed.”

“Okay, ew, ” Clarisse said, slamming her hand against the table and making Annabeth grin. “It’s one thing to have you drool over each other every day, but I Really do not need to know your bedroom habits.”

“That’s rude, Clarisse,” Percy said with a pout. “I distinctly remember you calling us lovebirds and throwing us into the lake last summer. You seemed pretty invested in our relationship then.”

“I didn’t know you’d be this disgusting then,” she told him with narrowed eyes.

Annabeth said nothing, playing footsie with Percy while she made popcorn garlands. She felt a little bit stupid, but Chiron has wanted to decorate for Christmas this year after two consecutive wars, and she found it sweet that everybody had offered to help (even Clarisse—that was the most surprising thing that had happened). Everybody that was visiting for Christmas was now sitting in the arts and crafts center, some expertly doing some craft and some—like Percy—being annoying and not helping with anything.

“I’ll have you know we are delightful,” Percy told Clarisse. “My mum’s obsessed with us.”

“Your mum is too nice for her own good,” Annabeth pointed out.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out here!”

“I also think your comment was unnecessary,” Annabeth replied, smiling sweetly.

Clarisse barked a laugh and pushed Percy, almost making him fall off his chair. Annabeth loved their dynamic—they kept complaining about each other, but they were somehow close friends as well. Annabeth was too engrossed in this thought and the popcorn garland to notice Percy picking up a ball of paper and throwing it at her, so it hit her on her forehead. She looked up at Percy and he grinned as if nothing had happened, but she was not dumb. She threw a piece of popcorn at him, and she just knew that that had been a bad idea. As Percy picked up another ball of paper and the younger campers around them picked up on the fight, Annabeth resigned herself to being reprimanded by Chiron later on.

“Can you please explain to me what happened?”

Percy and Annabeth stood in Chiron’s office, looking at him while he sighed and rubbed his eyes. They were both covered in glitter, popcorn, glue and garland, and they turned to look at each other with guilty eyes before looking back at Chiron.

“I put you in charge of Christmas crafts,” Chiron said, slowly. “You are both seventeen years old and the young campers admire you so much that they will do whatever it is you do, so I thought this was a great chance to convince a group of seventy ADHD kids to sit down for a while. However, it turns out that, instead of doing Christmas crafts, you decided to start a crafts fight of some sort, and so they followed your lead. Am I correct?”

Annabeth and Percy kept quiet, thinking that there was no way they could get out of this.

“Who started it?”

“Percy kept pointing his glue gun at me!” Annabeth yelled at the same time as Percy screamed, “Annabeth wouldn’t stop throwing popcorn at me!”

Annabeth turned to look at him with a furious glint in her eyes and pointed her finger at him, yelling, “You threw a ball of paper at me first!”

“Because you were mocking me!” Percy defended himself.

As Annabeth was about to speak, Chiron cleared his throat, and she knew the horse well enough to know that she shouldn’t keep talking if she didn’t want to be punished for a month.

“I think that’s enough,” Chiron said. “I must admit that I always thought you’d be less chaotic once you finally got together, but I guess dreams don’t always come true.” Annabeth and Percy blushed furiously and looked at their hands, saying nothing. “You are going to clean up the mess in the arts and crafts center and you are going to stay up as long as necessary to finish the decorations that were supposed to be made today. I will tell the harpies to wait outside so you don’t leave before it’s done. Understood?”

Percy and Annabeth nodded and turned to leave before Chiron’s voice stopped them.

“Percy, Annabeth,” he said, and they glanced back at him and saw him smiling. “Try not to do this again, alright?”

They nodded and left his office, both too ashamed to say anything until they were out of the Big House. They started walking towards the arts and crafts center, and Annabeth could feel Percy’s hand brushing against hers, silently asking if he could hold it. She grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze, glancing at him and shooting him a small smile. He smiled back and pulled her along, ignoring the campers that were looking at them (the fact that they looked like clowns probably didn’t help). As they entered the center and Percy closed the door behind them, he pulled Annabeth close to him and kissed her softly.

“I’m sorry I ruined today,” he whispered against her lips.

Annabeth smiled and kissed him again, lingering there for a bit.

“I mean,” she told him, “now we have the whole place to ourselves. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.”

Cleaning and decorations were forgotten as Percy laughed and sneaked his hands up her shirt; the last thing she thought before losing herself in his kisses was that the harpies would probably have to wait outside for most of the night, but that she would not apologise for that.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.

[northlight14]

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving. 

Reblogs >>> likes

[coffee-lover-666]

About Me

I’ve never posted a full ‘About Me’ so I guess it’s time! I’ll try and make it organized. More may be added over time.

Name

Nat

Relationship Status

In a Relationship {Committed, so please do not try and get with me, I’ll block you if you do}

Sexuality

Bisexual

Gender Identity

Non-Binary 

My pronouns range from he/him, she/her, they/them, and it/its. I understand the term “it” can be bothersome to some as usually “it” refers to objects and in this day and age people argue with others about calling themselves an “it” but that’s just who I am.

I don’t care what you use for me for pronouns, I fit in just about all and none so whatever you feel for me in that moment is fine, I promise. I won’t be offended if you say he/him and the others I’ve listed.

Neurodivergencies

Autistic

ADHD

OCD

Race/Nationality

Abenaki Native American

Languages

English

ASL (PSE) {PSE is like sign language only it’s in the same order as you’re reading this instead of kind of backwards, like Yoda. Sorry I forget the actual definition on it all.}

Pets

Kookie (Guinea Pig)

Legolas (Cat)

Special Interests (SpIns)

Entomolgy (this is my top SpIns)

Zoology (another top SpIns)

Different movies/shows (feel free to ask about which)

Photography

Encanto (Disney Movie)

My Voo ( @voothecrochetdoll)

Theories (mostly movies and the Titanic)

Paranormal Stuff 

Favorite Movies

Encanto

Legend of the Guardians: Owls of Ga’hoole

Rise of the Guardians

Turning Red

Twilight Series

Sonic the Hedgehog

Joker

Strange Magic

Leap (aka Ballerina in some locations)

Moana

Lilo and Stitch (all movies)

Spirited Away

Brave

Balto

Chicken Little

Rio/Rio 2

A Bug’s Life

The Ant Bully

Epic

Interview with the Vampire

Favorite Shows

The Good Doctor

Game of Thrones

The Big Bang Theory

The Simpsons

The Vampire Diaries

Friends

Rick and Morty

Family Guy

Rugrats

The Big Comfy Couch

Arthur

CatDog

Courage the Cowardly Dog

Dragon Tales

Zoboomafoo

Bear In The Big Blue House

Between The Lions

Sagwa, The Chinese Siamese Cat

Downton Abbey

Project Runway

Big Mouth

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic

Favorite Anime

Citrus

Sword Art Online

Vampire Knight

Blood Lad

Blood+

Tokyo Ghoul

Diabolik Lovers

Kotoura-San

Music

I listen to a variety of different music. I usually love Country, or anything slow but also like songs such as Cheerleader by OMI. I have an entire tag of songs that I like below listed under ‘My Tags’. I’m also open to song suggestions!

Religion

Leaning towards the Catholic religion, still calling myself a witch as I still practice witchcraft. 

Fashion

I love dressing in the goth style, but I also dress in just grey or faded colors. Clothing must not have glitter, sequins, or beads. Chains and straps are fine, though.

Relationships/Friendships

I have a wonderful partner, who I give my all to. I don’t have many friends but that’s okay.

My Tags

#coffee-lover-666 #coffee-lover-666-playlist #coffee-lover-666-SpIns

{Feel free to ask me about anything on my list!}

[khaleesiofalicante]

I’m reading chapter five of LBAF

Rafe with a motorcycle is wonderful. Should be cannon

Mark with a glitter card is unfortunately cannon. But he’s a broke bitch so we love him anyway.

Alec having a Consul voice that doubles as a sad voice is peek parenting

“Too bad we’re in exile” love that

“He wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those sweaters” HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA

Awwww. Tavvy!!

HES A COLLEGE BOY?!!!

They don’t care. Mostly because they’re dead inside.” Lol mood.

Also all the college classes are AP, why is Tavvy mentioning them?

Ldjfifydidhfufirurhdudhrh LILY LEAVE HIM ALONE!

Does someone have a crush~

Eekkk. Nevermind she’s terrible.

I just realized that they’re inside and I got so confused when they mentioned the tortillas. But like it’s day time. Why did I think Lily would be outside?

“Spicy”

“White”

Lamo.

No Rafe, get away from the grammar freak

What’s Anjail playing at???

Protective Rafeal!!!

Oh gosh!!! Please no love squares my heart can’t take it!!

Let short people wear boots. Just because you’re some freaky giant does it mean I have to suffer, let us be tall too. 

Also can I get some of those boots???

BAD RAFE!!

Jace has adhd and I love him.

Why do I feel like you mentioned Rosemary just to hurt us??

So where is Max” *wiggles eyebrows suggestively*

I did not expect a G-Force reference in this fic but good for Dani!

THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!! Why are the Cartwrights here?? Can y’all stop playing the pronoun game and get on with it?!

FUCK NEVER MIND NERV MIND NEVER MIND NEVER MIND GO BAKC GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK RIGHT NOW IMMA GONNA SCREAM THIS IS SO TERRIBLE

CAN I SLAP THIS WOMEN PLEASE I WANNA CRY!!

YESSS 👏 CAL👏THIS 👏BÏTCH 👏OUT👏

Why are we mentioning illness in this fic? Get that shit away from me! I don’t need another plague.

“You can’t just give a shit about children when it’s convenient for you,” Uncle Jace said. “Now leave my institute or I will have to report you to the Council.”

YESSS

Poor Rafe though, people talking about him like this!!! It’s not right! Also does this boy even want to be council??? Max doesn’t want to be a Shadowhunter but does Rafe??

“We will not let this go,” Irene Cartwright said. “The law does not allow downworlders to adopt nephilim children. A warlock cannot raise a shadowhunter. It cannot be allowed.”

Fuck off bitch!!!

HOW DID YOU MAKE BEING TALL AGNSTY???

Aawwwwww. Max being a good brother.

They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams

-okay but this is all too real. My therapist always asked me why I listened to other people, people who didn’t like me and it’s because they’re voice don’t go away. Negative attention sticks with us so much more than approve attention. The thing people say to us, they hurt and we try to adapt so that we don’t hurt anymore. But it doesn’t always work. Sometimes we hurt more.

😢😢😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh gosh!! Magnus talking behind the door hurts so much!! I can see him and Alec through the door. Hunched over with tear stains on their faces trying to figure out what to do. We can’t see them but we know they’re upset. The chapter started with Rafe trying to listen through a door and now he wishes he never heard a thing.

NOOOO!! DONT LEAVE!!!!

OH SHIT MAX IS GONNA BE DEVASTATED!! He legit might not dare David because of this shit. Because this is what his brain might associate with dating a Shadowhunters now and because of scandal and everything that’s going on it might make him close in on himself. Rafe’s definitely not trusting people after this. His walls are getting even higher than before.

MAX, YOU GREMLIN I DONT KNOW IF I WANT TO HUG YOU OR STRANGLE YOU

*sad dog noises*

Aww Juan and Juliette and their little werewolf Shadowhunter babies and downwarlder kids. I always liked their family.

Or Rafe will fall in love immediately afterwards and I was wrong. Also Milia is super cute and I love her and I feel like I’m gonna get hurt.

“You look taller,” Rafael told his brother who hadn’t grown an inch.

Rafe you shït

Aaawwwwwwww. Them reuniting is so cute!! Magnus bane is officially one persons bïtch. The rest of you have to figure out your own shit from now on.

Lol Tavvy

Also hopefully Max is a better driver than Alec

YESSSSSSSSSS. FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING LAWS!!

YALL DO THIS AGAIN IMMA BEAT YOUR ASS

“Do not compare us to Valentine,” Irene Cartwright sounded offended. STOP ACTING LIKE HIM

Lol Kit

Awwwww. Why must this family be so cute together!!

Imma fight this person!! Who’s calling my girl a bitch???

And so it begins. I don’t usually care about Romance but you’ve got my attention forever.

I love how you went from calling Anjali "terrible" to calling her "my girl."

Only character development I care about :)

[deliciouspeachpirate]

“If I hear this song one more time there will be blood.”

A/N Thank you so much for requesting this, I had a lot of fun with it! It didn’t exactly end up where I thought it would, but I’m happy with it anyway. Hope you like it! I’m working on the other prompts I have right now and hope to get the next up over the weekend or Monday-ish. Requests are still open, as always! Have a great day/night everyone! Enjoy! <3

Traffic was heavy from people coming into and leaving town for Thanksgiving in a few days. There had been a light snowfall the night before, but only a little bit actually stuck anywhere. Race and Spot were driving over to Medda's house to meet the rest of the family so they could plan out who would bring what for their annual Thanksgiving dinner. It absolutely could have been done over text, but everyone ended up deciding that it would be more fun to meet in person. 

The two of them had been having a heated debate during the last few days about when would be time to put up their Christmas decorations. Race had started dragging stuff out on November first, but Spot put a stop to it right away. Since then Race had been desperately trying to get him to change his mind, but Spot was insistent that they had to wait until at least a few days after Thanksgiving. That didn't mean Race couldn't have all the Christmas music he wanted though...

"On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me; NINE ladies dancing, EIGHT maids a milking, SEVEN swans a-"

"Race, shut UP!"

"SPOT HOW DARE YOU INTERUPT ME, ITS ALMOST THE BEST PART OF THE SONG!" Race yelled, continuing his song for what must have been the fifth time that day.

"Swimming, six geese a laying, FIVE GOLDEN RIIIIIIIIIIINNGGGGS!! Four calling birds, THREE French hens, two turtle doves, AND A PARTRAGE IN A PEAR TREE!!!!!!!!"

"Race, please, for the love of god, do not start the next verse or I will drive the car off the road." Spot said, his hands gripping the wheel like his life depended on it.

"Oh come on, Spotty, that song is a classic! I can't believe you don't like it!"

Spot sighed, flipping on his turn signal to change lanes.

"Race its not even Thanksgiving yet, there is no need for Christmas music."

Race gasped dramatically and clutched at his chest, "Spot I can't believe you, after all we've been through?"

"Racetrack Higgins, you may be my fiancé, but if I hear this song one more time there will be blood."

Deciding that continuing his song wasn't a risk worth taking, Race contented himself with pouted in the passenger's seat and checking his phone to see if he had missed anything.

Spot glanced over with a small small, putting his hand on Race's thigh and squeezing three times 'I-love-you.' It was a simple gesture that Jack had taught Race growing up. He, Race, and Crutchie used it whenever one of them was nervous, after nightmares, or they were in a situation where it didn't really work to say that they loved each other out loud.

The little reminder had always comforted Race and it turned out to be a big help for Spot earlier on in their relationship when he wanted to let Race know he loved him but still had a hard time saying it out loud. Spot caught on quickly with it, and it got to the point where it was almost constant. Whenever held Race's hand walking down the side walk, squeezing him closer to his side during movie night, even tapping his feet against Race's when they were at dinner with there friends, it was always present.

Race had spent most of his childhood in a home where the norm was to say you loved someone multiple times a day so it came as easy as breathing to him, but the words were always harder for Spot. That being said, those three little squeezes came just as often, if not more often, than Race's seemingly random and spontaneous "I love you's," even though saying it out loud was now almost as normal for Spot.

Race intertwined their hands and squeezed back, smiling softly at Spot as he did. People had doubted their relationship from the very beginning. They thought that Spot was too rough, too mean, or not caring enough for Race or that Race was too rambunctious, smiley, and emotional for Spot. Even Jack had been worried about Spot's well deserved reputation for being a bad boy rubbing off on Race or hurting him at some point, though he tried to be supportive for Race.

Even from the first months of their relationship when they started dating in junior year of high school, Race knew he couldn't have asked for a kinder, more supportive and loving partner than he had in Spot. Spot had always been there for him when he was going through a hard time. Everything from dance auditions, to routine school stress, to college applications, to when his ADHD and depression were acting up, Spot was always there for him, and vice versa. Their relationship had never been perfect, but they worked through what problems came up together and always came out on top. Race couldn't imagine loving another person as much as he did Spot.

Looking down at the engagement ring glittering on his left finger Race thought to himself; 'Who needs their true love to give them five golden rings anyway? I’m way better off with just the one.’

[udunie]

Okay, you guys, here’s the part of the Gerard fic that I love (it goes on to a sex scene that I don’t like, cause it doesn’t seem to fit the tone of this part)

Warning for: prostitution, drug abuse, addiction, generally heavy themes

Also, this is basically not edited or betaed at this point, I just want to pick your brains about how to go on with this, cause I feel like ‘monster cock and fake tits’ isn’t the way to go... Please let me know what you think :D

ETA: wow love it when tumblr fucks shit up, anyway, fixed now lol

***

Stiles was just a month or two over eighteen when his dad died. He didn’t like to think about it. Or all the things that happened after. It was like whatever self control he ever had was buried with his dad, leaving him destined to make one bad decision after the other.

Stiles just wanted to forget. Preferably everything; not going to college, not being able to pay his dad’s medical bills, being forced to sell the house, living in his jeep and turning tricks on occasion to survive… He just wanted to escape it all.

First there was the drinking and the weed, and when those were not enough anymore to get him through the day, he tried other things… ecstasy, cocaine, whatever. With his ADHD, drugs didn’t always work as they were supposed to. Sometimes a little too well, sometimes not at all, or in ways he didn’t enjoy. Nothing really stuck.

It was exactly on his nineteenth birthday when he met Kate. 

“Want to try something new?” she asked, slithering up to him in the club. Stiles saw her around before, he knew she was selling something, though never really checked to see what. Lately he didn’t have the cash to get anything serious. “You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. You’re cute, so I’ll let you have one on the house.”

Stiles was a bit drunk and a bit high and very stupid.

“Wha’s it?” he asked, voice slurring a bit. 

“Silver Bullet,” she said, holding up a pill. It reflected the strobe lights weirdly. “It will shoot all your troubles dead, baby. That’s a guarantee.”

Stiles popped it into his mouth without hesitation, chasing the bitter taste down with the vodka tonic he managed to flirt out of someone.

And the rest was history.

***

Silver Bullet wasn’t like anything he ever tried before. For one, it worked; getting him high and happy and horny every fucking time. He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t tired or cold or lonely when he took it. Everything was fun and easy and sexy. It felt like being in love with every single person around him. 

At first, it was easy. Almost too easy. He took a pill and felt like he wanted to make love to the world. He picked up a few johns, had sex that felt way better than it had any right to be and by the time he crashed, he had the money for the next few pills. 

Even when he was sleeping, he dreamed about them, about having a whole palmful of those pretty, white pills. Even in his dreams, he could see the tiny, metallic looking particles in them. When he asked about it, Kate said that was the magic and he believed her. Stiles couldn’t imagine going for a day without.

Then Kate raised the price. Then she raised it again. And again. ‘Welcome to the free market, where demand sets the price’ she told him, laughing. He tried to look around for another dealer, but nobody was selling Silver Bullet, they all told him to fuck off if he even just asked about it.

It only took a month for him to start begging her. He sold the jeep, he sold his parents’ wedding rings, he had nothing more to give.

“I will do anything, Kate, please,” Stiles told her. The music was too loud in the club, and the lights too blinding and the shadows too deep. For a second, he thought about just… taking the little tin box of pills he knew she had on her with force, but it was a struggle to even hold himself upright. He was always so tired when he went too long without it.

She leaned back against the wall. Stiles wondered if her smile was always that cruel.

“Hm… Anything?”

“Anything, whatever you want, I will do it,” he said, the words rushing out of him. 

“Tell me I’m beautiful,” she said, fluttering her lashes. 

Stiles remembered seeing her through the haze of the drug. She’d looked like an ethereal being, like an honest-to-god angel.

“You… you are beautiful, you are the most beautiful woman in the world, I’ve never se-”

“Am I prettier than your mommy was?” she cut in.

She was standing so close, Stiles could almost taste the pill burning his tongue.

“Yes. Yes, you are, so much prettier,” he croaked, mouth dry.

She laughed, loud and harsh.

“Unfortunately, baby, flattery won’t get you anywhere,” she said. Stiles wanted to cry. “This is a family business, you know? What sort of a girl would cut her father’s profits?”

Stiles felt shaky and like he was about to throw up. He must have looked miserable, because Kate gave him a long, calculating look.

“But you know what? I can take you to meet him. Maybe you can dazzle him with your… talents.”

Kate was really the most beautiful woman in the world.

***

He was shaking during the whole car ride. He hadn’t had a high in three days, and he felt like he was about to die. Kate made him lie down, his head on her lap, and she stroked his hair, nails too sharp as they scratched against his scalp. The man driving the car - her brother, Stiles thought - gave him a few disgusted looks in the rearview mirror, but Stiles couldn’t care less.

He was going to meet Kate’s dad and fuck him and get high and everything would be fine.

Kate’s father lived in a huge house surrounded by a park and iron gates. It was like something out of a movie, but he was way too anxious to really appretiate it even as Kate led him inside. There was a double staircase in the entrance hall, and Stiles was told to wait there.

The place was big enough that he thought there should be an army of servants around, but everything was strangely silent. Stiles tried not to stare too much. All he could think about was getting his pills. Or maybe stealing something and pawning it off so he could get cash. But… Kate probably wouldn’t sell to him if he did that, right? It was hard to think with his whole body numb with need.

He spaced out instead, staring into mid distance, imagining how good it will be to get his pill and feel alive again. Stiles had no idea how long he just stood there until he finally heard Kate calling him from the top of the stairs. She sounded annoyed.

“Get your ass up here,” she bit out when she finally had his attention. “You don’t want to get him in a bad mood.”

Stiles didn’t. He ran up to her, not daring to touch the polished railing.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said, but she already turned her back, leading him to a set of tall double-doors. 

“Daddy,” she said, pushing them open. She sounded very different than when she was talking to Stiles. “Here he is.”

Kate’s father was an old, old man with short, white hair and a stern face that had Stiles shifting from foot to foot with nerves. He was lounging on a sofa in pajamas and a brocade house coat. His eyes were cold enough to make him shiver where he stood.

“Stiles, this is my father, Gerard. Daddy, this is the boy I’ve told you so much about.”

Stiles doubted that random junkies were a regular topic at the family dinner, but he didn’t say anything. He had a goal in mind, and Gerard didn’t look like he enjoyed people mouthing off.

The old man looked him over, like he was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of his shoe.

“Strip.”

Stiles swallowed, glancing quickly at Kate. She nodded her head at him, smiling in a way that made him second guess himself.

“Go on, baby, try to make a good impression.”

Stiles licked his lips, and got to it. He felt stupid and weird with her watching him undress for her father. Without the warmth of drugs in him, he was acutely aware of how boney and pale and… ugly he was.

When he was finished, he just stood there, eyes glued to a spot over Gerard’s shoulder, wanting to cover himself but knowing that he shouldn’t. 

“Don’t you like him, daddy?” Kate asked, sounding like she was pouting, but Stiles didn’t dare look at her again.

“I would have preferred a girl. You know that,” Gerard said. Stiles would have pissed himself if that much disdain was directed at him, but Kate just laughed, her voice sweet and light.

“But I don’t want to have a little sister or brother,” she said, teasing. “Chris is enough of a headache.”

Gerard barked out a laugh, sitting up straight.

“Damned right he is. Fine.” He picked up a shiny, darkwood box from the side table, opening it in his lap. It was lined with dark green velvet and there was an injection needle in it. It looked like it was antique, with little rings at the end of the crossbars. Beside it was a corked vial, filled with something that glittered like mercury, though lighter in color.

“Come here and get on your knees,” Gerard told him, not even glancing at Stiles. He clearly expected to be obeyed.

“I… What… what is that?” Stiles asked, watching him stab the needle through the cork and pulling some of the liquid into the syringe.

Gerard looked at him.

Stiles made the mistake of meeting his gaze.

Suddenly Kate was behind him, her breasts pressing into his naked back. 

“That’s the good stuff, baby. That’s the real Silver Bullet right there, the same one you love so much, just a thousand times better,” she whispered in his ear. “And if you want it, you better be a good boy.”

Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off the syringe. Just the mention of the drug made all his cravings rush back tenfold. He wanted it. He wanted to feel it so bad.

He dropped on his knees in front of Gerard without any more hesitation. He didn’t like needles, and he didn’t like him, but he wanted… He needed the high.

Stiles didn’t expect to be backhanded hard enough to make his ears start ringing. There was a dizzying moment when he forgot where he was or why. Gerard grabbed his jaw, his fingers biting into him.

“When I give an order, I expect you to follow, is that understood?” he asked, sneering into his face from up close. 

Stiles whined. His right cheek was burning. It would probably bruise… But it wasn’t even close to being the worst thing he ever got just to get high.

The man stared into his eyes for a long moment, maybe waiting for him to put up a fight, but all Stiles wanted was the Silver Bullet. 

“Good,” he said finally, patting his face where it hurt. “Open your mouth.”

Stiles did.

Gerard trapped his tongue between his knuckles and pulled it outward and to the side. His fingers tasted salty and a bit bitter.

“This way, it will get right to your head,” he commented, Stiles closed his eyes as he saw the syringe getting closer. He just wanted to be alive again. “Don’t move.”

Gerard injected him at the base of his tongue. There was a sharp bite of pain that made him suck in a breath. He could feel his mouth flood with saliva.

And then…

Stiles remembered how happy he was back when he was just a kid and his mom bought him exploding candy. It was sweet and sour and like he had a little firework going off in his mouth. This was like that, but he could feel it in his head, his skull was filled with exploding candy, popping and popping and throwing sparks of flavors and colors and shapes and smells in every direction, every nerve in his body sizzling and popping and popping… The world was suddenly and inexplicably beautiful. 

Everything was so pretty and bright and pleasurable that it almost hurt. 

He could feel his hips pumping into the air, body convulsing like it was caught in an orgasm that just didn’t want to end. There were still fingers in his mouth and he moaned, licking and sucking at them eagerly. He felt like he was a flame, radiating pleasure and everything around him reflected it back, just amplifying it even more until he was drowning in light.

***

“What a nasty little slut,” Gerard said, letting the boy kneeling in front of him suckle on his fingers, slurping around his knuckles like he was trying to give the blowjob of his life. His eyes were glazed over and he was twitching almost alarmingly. “It’s been… what? Forty seconds? And he already came twice.”

Kate laughed, leaning against the doorframe.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Gerard did, but he didn’t want Kate to know. The girl had to learn to do better, even if she managed to do an adequate job with this one.

“Should have been a girl,” Gerard reminded her, pushing his fingers in as deep as they could go, nudging the boy’s tonsils. He didn’t gag, but his eyes did roll back. Ah, and he was coming. Again. “But I will take it.”

[mxsmwndr]

Little Do They Know

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x PJO (crossover)

Summary: Little do they know, the Great War is only the beginning, and the reason behind Voldemort's doings are different than anticipated. Little do they know, there's a whole other world outside of the one of the Greek Gods' and Goddesses', or that of the wizards'. Little do they know, one so called 'son of Athena' can change the all history (or all future), and one Slytherin boy can do just as much. Little do they know, Malcolm Pace doesn't exist, and Draco Malfoy isn't as bad as he seems. Or maybe... he's worse than they could have ever imagined. (Basically in short form, Draco has to choose between Camp, or Hogwarts. If confused, read author's note)

Terms: X

Warnings: None? If you haven't read Percy Jackson or Harry Potter, there may be spoilers... but I think that's it. People are a little OOC, too.

A/N: Okay, so a few things. First off, Draco is 15 instead of 16, and Percabeth/others are 13/12/whatever. The prophecy of the Seven isn't out yet, too, because it was the prophecy that Lucius was supposed to get (and failed to, so therefore Draco takes his place). Lastly, Hogwarts and Camp Halfblood are in the same country--you choose whether it's America or Scotland, or wherever you want, but Draco still has a different accent than Percy/Annabeth. (As requested by @marieskeez , let me know what you think! Sorry it's not completely the request, it I do hope you still enjoy)

Disclaimer: Idea was a request, so I don't own it. I also don't own Draco, Percy, Annabeth or any other characters/scene. Also, the part that describes the Dark Mark is from Wikipedia... or something like that. I did change a few things, though.

Draco hesitantly rose up from where he slept seconds before, the creaky bed below him causing him to flinch, while he tried not to wake any of his siblings.

C'mon, Malfoy. He told himself. You can't hide forever.

And he was right, Draco couldn't hide forever. Some day, they're going to realize that he isn't a son of Athena. That in fact, he isn't even a demigod. And when that day came, Draco didn't want to be there.

Draco opened an old notebook of his siblings', and scribbled a quick farewell after he took off his sweatshirt. He set it onto his bed. Then, he grabbed his packed bag and fled the camp, pushing the dread of his future away.

--

Draco noticeably shivered as soon as he stepped into the old hotel.

"Are you cold, my love?" A woman's voice asked.

Draco swallowed, "No," he said.

The woman cackled, and stepped into the faint light. "Are you sure?" She asked. Her blood red lips glistened, and her pearly fangs peeked. However, her eyes were still hidden in the shadows of her helmet. But that didn't stop their faint glow.

Draco nodded, scared, like a child. This isn't what Father would have wanted. He told himself.

The woman cocked her head to the side slightly, "Come here, my love." She said.

Draco dragged his feet over to her, and held out his elbow for her to take. The woman did just so, and guided Draco deeper into the Labyrinth, where Voldemort awaited his new tool.

--

All around, demigods cheered for their victory, hugging each other, clashing swords, and even a few scattered kisses from couples.

Well, most demigods cheered.

Annabeth Chase's happiness was short-lived when she realized what really happened. It meant Luke was dead, and Percy...

Oh, Percy! Annabeth's mind screamed at her. Her grey eyes widened, and she sprinted over to where she saw him last, but somehow missed him.

--

The mystery of Malcom Pace was still unsolved to Annabeth and Percy, but they knew he wasn't taken from monster.

At least, not a monster they knew of.

Annabeth Chase paced in her cabin, back and forth, back and forth, until interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming.

"Annabeth! I think I got something!" Percy's shouts echoed through Athena's cabin.

Annabeth shot towards him immeaditely, "What?!" She asked him.

Percy bent over his legs, and panted, holding up a finger to signal Annabeth to wait. Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Give me this," she said, snatching the paper out of Percy's hands.

Annabeth's grey eyes scanned the sheet of paper infront of her, while Percy's expression mocked her. Obviously, Annabeth noticed this, so she stuck her tounge out at him, and proceeded to read.

Finally, she asked "What the Hades is a death eater?" While handing Percy back the paper.

"That's the thing, I-I don't know. No one knows. I... haven't you read anything about it in your books?"

Annabeth looked back to her bookshelf, and back at Percy with a frown. "No." She simply said.

Percy squinted at her like she was crazy, but shrugged it off.

Something wasn't right here.

Annabeth must have noticed, because she walked over to her books, and started to scan though them. Percy followed her, and did the same.

Or, he tried to do the same. Dyslexia didn't mix well with ADHD and reading. Especially the reading part.

"Ha!" Annabeth cheered.

"What?" Percy asked, while scrambling over to her.

Annabeth pointed to a symbol on the paper.

"The Dark Mark is the symbol of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It refers both to a magically induced brand that every Death Eater bears on his or her inner left forearm, and to the same symbol summoned in the sky by curse.

"The Mark appears as a glittering green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, which is believed to have been inspired by a Basilisk emerging from the mouth of Salazar Slytherin-- Heir of Slytherin, and founder of Slytherin house.

"The symbol is believed to also may be related to Lord Voldemort, as he is a Parselmouth, and leader of the Death Eaters.

"The original Dark Mark that is tattooed on the forearm is black, while the Dark Mark conjured by spell is green. It is also said that the Dark Mark represents immortality and power, a reasonable symbol for the Dark Lord.

"Inactive Marks appear faint, placed on the inner part of the left forearm. Active ones are jet black.

"As both a sign of loyalty and a way of summoning them, Lord Voldemort placed the Dark Mark brand on his followers' inner left forearms. The full process of Lord Voldemort's allies is unknown, but anonymous sources have claimed that this was done by the Dark Lord pressing finger to any Death Eater's Mark, which turns black immeaditely and delivers a burning sensation. Feeling the burn, the Death Eaters then Apparate to Voldemort's side--"

"What does Apparate mean?"

Annabeth shushed her boyfriend, and kept reading.

"It is unknown whether all Death Eaters feel the burning, or if Voldemort can choose to signal a specific person or people. Well known traitors hhave been rumored to somehow reject their summons.

"The deepness of the Mark's colour is connected to Voldemort's physical health. When Voldemort suffered his first defeat, the Marks on the Death Eaters faded. As he began regaining his strength, the faded marks became clearer, and burnt slightly to some, an eager sign of Voldemort's return. Other sources claim the burn comes suddenly and stings rather sharply.

"Death Eaters could also use it to signal Voldemort by pressing on their Dark Marks, as their lord would do. However, only Voldemort's inner circle is supposedly branded with the Dark Mark, which is considered a great honour among his followers.

"As a signature of their work, Death Eaters can also use an unknown spell create an image of the Dark Mark in the sky. The appearance of the Mark in the sky is the same as the Mark on the forearm, but green. It normally appears where there has been a murder by the hands of Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort. Due to the terror Voldemort and his Death Eaters had brought to the world in the First Wizarding War, the Dark Mark being cast over a location brings deep fear to the community, even after Voldemort's downfall.

"The spells used to brand and conjure the Dark Mark were likely invented by Lord Voldemort. He may have based the spell on the Protean Charm."

"Woah," Was all Percy could say.

Annabeth's eyes widened once again, and she scrambled to her feet, taking the book with her.

"Wait!" Percy called after her. "Where ya going?" He sprinted after Annabeth, into the Big House.

"Chiron!" Annabeth shouted, waving her free hand to the centaur. "Chiron," she panted, once she reached him.

Chiron looked down to her, and smiled sweetly. "Yes?"

"It's about Malcolm... the mark on his arm. We-we know what it is! We can--"

Chiron's face grew pale. "Come with me." He said, his eyes flickering to Percy for a minute.

He led them to the beach, and Percy's muscles immediately relaxed.

"Now, I understand you--"

"It's called the Dark Mark!" Annabeth said. Chiron shot her a look, as if to tell her to be quiet. Annabeth winced in apology. "Sorry," she said. "But it's from this guy named Voldemort... we," Annabeth looked to Percy, as if to say 'him and me', "read this book, and it told us something." Annabeth explained, flipping though the pages of her book. "It said that the Voldemort guy has these... followers, named Death Eaters. And they wear the Mark on their arm. It's supposedly set by a spell, but that doesn't make any sense, right? Magic doesn't exist."

Annabeth stopped when she saw Percy, who was talking to a crab. She rolled her eyes, mentally cursing his powers.

"Okay, well that's besides the point! The mark appears--"

"Uh, Annabeth?" Percy called, backing away from the crab infront of him, staring at the darkened sky.

"Black on their arms, but--"

"Annabeth?" Percy asked again.

"Can be spelled into the sky, which will turn it green, and--"

"ANNABETH!" Percy shouted.

Annabeth froze, astonished at Percy's sudden tone of voice. "What!?"

"Look up." Was all the demigod could squeak out.

Annabeth gasped.

There it was, the Dark Mark, in the sky, with people apparating out of the sky.

"Malcolm!" Annabeth squealed, and sprinted towards the horse stables.

"Wha-Annabeth!" Percy shouted while he dashed after her. Chiron just chuckled from behind the two, and trotted after them.

"C'mon, Blackjack." Annabeth said, trying to lure the pegasus out of his stables. Blackjack looked to Percy, Is she for reals? He asked. Percy just shrugged, "It's Malcolm." He said. Blackjack winnied, but followed.

--

In the air, Percy and Annabeth suddenly didn't feel so confident in themselves. Percy shivered from the cold airs touch, and Annabeth got an 'off feeling' in her gut. (It's called instinct, Annie, but whatever.)

When the couple made it to the Mark in the sky, fear brushed over them. But unfortunately, this was nothing new.

Suddenly, a flash of blond hair flew past the two.

"Malcolm!" They shouted. Startled, Malcolm turned around, but it wasn't Malcolm.

It was Draco.

But of course, they didn't know that.

"What are you doin' here!?" He asked. His voice changed, though. A tad deeper, yes, but it was also his accent.

He was British.

"Malcolm..."

Draco pressed his lips together in an attempted smile, but struggled to hold the expression.

"W-we came to save you," Annabeth mumbled, her eyes drifting towards the Mark on his arm. The Dark Mark.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, Saving? He didn't need saving. He was fine.

"I don't need your help." He simply said, and tried to fly away. Annabeth had other plans, though.

"No, you're not. Come on, Malcolm. Come back to camp with us. You'll be safe--"

Draco's eyes widened, "Safe? Safe?! How can I ever be safe? Annabeth, I'm sorry but you know there's no escaping this."

Percy thought for a moment, and turned to face his friend. "What if there was?" He asked, right as Draco was about to fly away.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I mean, what if you didn't have to fight in... whatever this is. There's gotta be a way out, right?"

"'Fraid not." Draco mumbled.

Annabeth looked down, "No. No, there is a way out!" She suddenly exclaimed. "There is! And here's what we'll do." Draco inched closer to his two friends, and they discussed a plan.

--

Back at Camp Halfblood, life was no less messier than the usual, but Draco was there to help.

As Draco, too. Not as Malcolm.

After fighting his war, Draco was reluctant to go back to Camp, in fear of what others would think of him. What would they do? What would Chiron do?

The answer was, nothing.

Well, within reason.

When Percabeth and Draco returned to camp, demigods cheered. Again. But this time it wasn't because they won a war.

It was because Draco was back, healthy as ever. He greeted his 'siblings', and friends, but unfortunately, like any other good thing, his joy was short-lived.

"Malcolm!" Chiron said, excited that the demigod returned. Draco flinched, but reluctantly dragged his feet over to the centaur.

"Hey, Chiron," he said, and winced at the sound of his own voice.

"We are so glad to have you back." The centaur said. "But... I've been told that things are different, yes?"

Draco nodded his head.

"Very well. Come with me." Chiron said, and Draco followed, with his head hung low in shame.

"So," Chiron said once they made it into a more private area of the Big House.

"So..." Draco echoed, trying not to burst from emotion. He had finally found a place that loves him for who he is. Not for his mother. Not for his father. Him, for him.

"Look, I'm really, really... sorry." Draco said. "I never meant for anything to go this far, I just... it's so beautiful here, and I actually feel like I belong! But I just, I... I'm sorry." He said again.

Chiron laughed. He actually laughed. "No worries, my child." He said. Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

"What did you just say?"

"I said 'no worries'. Hakuna matata, right?"

"I uh, I have no clue what you're talking about."

Chiron laughed again. "It means 'no worries'." He said with a trace of fondness in his voice. "But anyway, don't fret. Percy and Annabeth told me everything." He paused, and then said: "And I believe you did the right thing."

Now, Draco was more confused than ever. Was Chiron mocking him? Was this a trick? Where's his punishment? Was this it?

Chiron must have noticed, because he smiled sadly at Draco, "I understand your pain," he said. No, Draco thought. No, you don't. No one does.

"But I do believe... you still deserve a second chance?" Chiron said. Although, it sounded more like a question to Draco than a statement.

So, of course he said: "If that's alright, yes."

"Of course." He said. "But I must ask, you're not a real demigod, are you?" He said.

Draco pressed his lips into a thin line, "No." He said. "I am a wizard."

Chiron nodded his head, "And I assume your name isn't Malcolm?"

Draco shook his head. "It's Draco." He mumbled.

Chiron studied the boy, and watched the way his eyes filled with panic. "That settles it, then." He whispered.

Draco heard him, and visibly flinched, expecting some sort of punishment.

"My child," Chiron said. "You don't need to worry anymore."

At that, Draco looked up.

"It will be our little secret."

Draco smiled. "But what will we say when they ask?"

"Hmm, family problems, perhaps?"

Draco nodded his head slowly and sheepishly. I mean, it's only partially a lie.

"Very well, then." Chiron said. "Off you go!"

Draco smiled wider at him, the worry lines across his face suddenly dissapeared, and walked out of the Big House, to find his friends.

But of course, not before thanking the gods.

[arosnowflake]

Dunno if you know Haikyuu, but Kageyama? Or maybe Howl from Spirited Away?

ANON I LOVE YOU

I don’t know Haikyuu (I mean I know the basics; volleyball sports anime, protag is the Actual Sun) (or at least he’s designed like it) but I love and support your headcanon although I sadly cannot write a fic for it.

THAT SAID I’m pretty sure you meant Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle bc I don’t think Spirited Away has a Howl (hmu with a second ask if I’m wrong), and I DEFINITELY love and support that one! Loud characters like Howl are very rarely headcanoned as autistic, and so I’m absolutely STOKED about this one as a loud ADHD autistic, and I really really love this especially in the book context bc in the book Howl is from Wales and moved to Ingary to be a dramatic wizard, and as an autistic with a special interest in fantasy I can confirm I’d ABSOLUTELY become a weird, dramatic, flamboyant wizard recluse with rumors that I’m going to eat women’s hearts if I had the chance. Also the reason his room is Like That is because he’s constantly understimulated and he needs lots of things to visually stim with.

I’m pretty sure you’re talking movie!Howl (bc of the Spirited Away mention), which is valid as all hell, but Diana Wynne Jones happens to be one of my fave authors of all time and I’m a massive fan of the book, so this is mostly based on the book (also sorry if this is not entirely canon compliant, it’s been a while since I’ve read the book/seen the movie) (feat. comorbid ADHD):

It was one of those days where boredom reigned and everything seemed to be too little and too much at the same time. His clothes itched, and he wondered if it would be worth Sophie’s complaining to magic them into non-itchy clothes. Only, he knew that at the moment, there was no clothing that wouldn’t itch, no clothing that would sit right and feel comfortable against his skin, and so he tried his best to ignore it, drumming his fingers and lazily conjuring up miniature fireworks over his head.

As it turns out, he would have done well to be worried about the fireworks causing Sophie’s irritation more than the chance of clothing.

“What on Earth are you doing in here?” she grumbled as she opened the door. “I can hear your explosions all the way down in the kitchen.”

“Miss Hatter, I’m afraid I’m dying of boredom,” he replied, making a blue star burst so loudly that Sophie jumped. “And if the boredom doesn’t do me in, my clothes will surely do it instead.” He picked up one of his coattails. “It itches to no end, and nothing I do will help.”

“Can’t you just magic yourself a new pair?” she asked, unimpressed. 

“Alas!” he cried, throwing one arm over his face. “I know from experience that nothing I wear will be any different. It’s the texture of the fabric, I’m afraid. Cotton doesn’t sit right with my skin.”

“What about wool? Or satin, even?”

“Wool is even worse, and the way Satin slides against my skin -” he broke himself off and shuddered. 

Sophie crossed her arms. “Surely there must be something you can handle? Your skin can’t possibly be that sensitive?”

For a moment, Howl considered explaining the concepts of autism, ADHD, and sensory difficulties to her. Then his sleeves rubbed against his shoulders wrong, and he decided that he really wasn’t up for that today.

“No, there is nothing. Simply the act of wearing clothes at all is torture.” He sighed, and let a bright yellow bee zoom through the room, following it with his eyes. 

He barely heard Sophie say “Well, don’t go around running naked, and keep the noise down or you won’t get any supper.” Then, he heard the sound of a door slamming shut. 

“Cruel,” he muttered under his breath, then sat back and tried to focus on the little glowing blue flies.

A week later, Sophie threw a suit at his face. “Since you insist on being dramatic,” she added, then grabbed a broom and headed off to sweep.

Blinking, Howl held the suit up to his face, inspecting its integrate diamond pattern and soft, pink fabric. He let it slide through his fingers. It felt almost... good?

Quickly, he changed clothes, and immediately, he realized that Sophie had weaved magic into the fabric. It didn’t feel like cotton, or satin, or wool, or anything else he’d ever worn; it was feather light, floating instead of weighing him down, and a brush with the sleeves gave him a nice, pleasant, tingling feeling. He did an experimental twirl, and to his surprise, he noticed the coattails leaving behind a glittering trail of stars.

“And to think she probably didn’t even do this on purpose,” he muttered, swinging his tails back and forth.

He stood there for a while, just rubbing his sleeves and stimming with his new coat, before running off to ask Sophie to make another ten of these. 

[allstarvending]

What Are The Top Bulk Vending Supplier Toys To Buy In 2021?

Whether you’re a squish collector or just looking to buy vending toys online for loved ones, there are lots of options to choose from. With most of 2020 spent on lockdown, soft squishy toys that release stress are some of the best toys. So with 2021 well and truly underway, what are the top bulk vending supplier toys to buy? Here are 9 of the best easy-to-get toys and squishes for adults and kids alike.

#1. Squishy Doughnut

Squishy doughnuts are usually brightly colored toys made in the likeness of a delicious doughnut. These top bulk vending supplier toys are made with squishy foam and are quite soft to feel. When pinched, the squishy doughnut returns to its original shape. Most squishy doughnuts are scented and so must be used by kids under the supervision of an adult.

#2. Mesh Balls

Mesh balls are another top bulk vending supplier's toys to buy online. They are non-toxic squishable toys that act as stress balls. Mesh balls are safe and great as party souvenirs and for kids with ADHD or autism. The high-quality materials used in making them ensure they do not leave stains on the hands.

#3. Neon Putty

Neon putty is one toy to consider when you buy vending toys online in 2021. Everyone should love a good colorful neon putty, and they are non-toxic and super fun to play with. Neon putties are soft to feel and have a firm texture that can be stretched, squeezed, or bounced. If you need little creativity at work, a neon putty in your hand should do the trick.

#4. Quackers

Quackers are not only a top bulk vending supplier toy for kids but are also a dog’s favorite snuggle buddy. They are realistic-looking duck toys and may come as plush toys with squeakers or rubber ducks for baths. Quackers are soft and flexible, can be glow in the dark, and are perfect for your vending machines.

#5. Squishy Eyeballs

Squishy eyeballs are fun, creepy, imaginative, and soft. They’re the perfect addition to a party favor. Squishy eyeballs are a great pick if you’re looking for a simple option when you buy vending toys online. They come in sets, and you buy in bulk in time for Halloween.

#6. Squishy Unicorn

If your young ones never get tired of squishy toys, then a squishy unicorn may be a great addition to their collection. Unicorns are magical, and the squishy unicorn is all that and more with lovely and bright colors. Squishy unicorns are made of non-toxic materials and are safe for kids to play with.

#7. Slow Rise Squishy

Slow rise squishes are probably the ultimate stress release, top bulk vending supplier toys for 2021. They are perfect in helping overcome work stress and get your creative juices flowing. But they are also a very fun and silly toy for the kids to play with. Give them a little squeeze and watch them slowly regain their shape.

#8. Flashing Puffer Balls

Flashing puffer balls are a delight to play with. You can squeeze them, toss them and watch them light up in a timed automatic flash. Flashing puffer balls are the soft and squeezable choice if you want to buy vending toys online.

#9. Care Bear Glitter Putty

Carebear glitter putty comes in lots of sparkly and shimmering beautiful colors. Glitters are a beautiful mesh, and carebears are absolutely adorable. Carebear glitter putty is soft to feel, and their boxes are cute as well.

Conclusion

From stress-relieving squishes to colorful and non-toxic mesh balls, there are a lot of toys in this post to choose from. All of the squishes are made with non-toxic materials and are safe for kids to hold. If you’re in need of a little stress release for yourself or toys to keep the kids occupied, these toys are the best to get from your top bulk vending supplier

[gideonloser]

Chapter One: Families are so intrusive

Theodore, or Teddy as he was called by his friends- though he wasn't exactly sure that anybody at camp had earned the title of friend just yet- was not happy. Why should he be? Sure, for the first time in a long time he was safe (well, from monsters, he was not safe from the dangers of camp that the others had grown so accustomed to they didn’t even blink an eye- seriously?! Everything was deadly here! He couldn't even wade in the canoe lake without crazy mermaid things trying to either drown him or seduce him- both of which he found equally unappealing) and the food wasn’t bad and the people were nice, mostly, but what good was any of that when he was expected to leave it all behind?

He didn’t want to. He hasn’t asked to. He wouldn’t even have thought it was within the realm of possibility- after all, many demigods didn’t get quests for years. Farrah had been here for six years and not a peep of a quest. So why in the world would he get one, after all of two months? He had barely even adjusted to the idea that all of this was real and not just a dream that he would wake up from any minute now. That was why he liked arts and crafts- it seemed childish to say, but everything seemed so much more normal there. Sure, he was using enchanted fur and monster remains, but he could just pretend it was normal pipe cleaners and glitter as he sat next to Farrah, who in addition to having a knack for stealing his dagger when he wasn't looking, made a mean piece of macaroni art. He was enjoying the normalcy of watching her craft when a light so bright it nearly blinded him swept into the arts and crafts cabin.

Initially, he thought the sun had just hit something at an odd angle and was willing to brush it off, but next to him Farrah looked up and when she saw what it was, gasped. Farrah had never been phased by anything in the time he knew her, so that was cause for concern. Across the table from him, a daughter of Aphrodite stumbled to her feet.

“My lord!” She stammered out, without the grace that she usually had, so Teddy forced himself to look back at the light and see what had thrown such usually capable girls off their guard. His eyes quickly adjusted to see a young man- he didn’t look much older than a teenager- who was built like a tank and had golden hair. He eminated light but didn't seem particularly interested in the fact that he was a human flashlight, or much of anything, as he just cast his listless eyes around the room, boredly.

"Who is that?" He whispered to Farrah, who didn't even take her eyes off of the figure.

"That's your dad." She sounded a little scandalized by the fact that he didn't know, but before he could come up with a snarky response, he was shocked into silence by the full weight of the god of the sun (and about a dozen other things that Ash had told him, but he couldn't remember) looking at him. They made eye contact, and he felt like he was being stripped bare of everything, that his father was looking at him and seeing everything he had ever said, done, or thought, whether he was proud of it or not. It wasn't a great feeling, but it seemed to be one sided, as the god just smiled in relief and started making his way towards him. Unbidden, Teddy stood up.

"Ah, Estelle's son. Just who I was looking for."

For as long as he could remember, Teddy had been told he had his mother's nose. Almost everyone who knew her remarked on it when meeting him. Occasionally something else was commented on, like his chin or his ears, but no one had ever, in his entire life, said he had his mother's eyes. And it was a strange thing to think about, standing here facing a god for the first time in his life, but all he could think was that they had never said it because it had never been anything close to true. No, he did not have his mother's eyes, he had his father's.

"...Hi." He managed to say as those eyes advanced while Apollo moved closer.

"Drew, go get Chiron." He heard Farrah say next to him, addressing Aphrodite's daughter across the table.

"You go get Chiron!" She shot back, and next to him he could imagine the stare down of the century, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from their guest. Farrah must have won, because shortly he heard footsteps but still saw the blonde out of the corner of his eyes. It was the exact same shade of hair of the god in front of him, which finally distracted him from the eyes as he tried to think if Hermes and Apollo were related, and it was possible the blonde was genetic. Again, a strange thing to think about, but his mind was all over the place, courtesy of his ADHD. Apollo's eyes slid over to his niece/cousin/granddaughter/whatever, seemingly amused by the stand off.

"Who are you?"

"Farrah." She replied, before standing up as well. Her shoulders brushed against Teddy's, and he was glad Drew had lost, as knowing she was there was unexpectedly comforting. "I'm Theo's friend."

He felt the urge to wave his hand, as if to say 'so-so'. Yes, she had always been friendly with him, and she was one of the few people at camp that he actually liked in any capacity, but would he actually say they were friends? Maybe not. He stayed quiet, though, instead watching his father size her up.

"Daughter of Hermes." He said after a moment. It wasn't a question, it was a statement, but she answered anyway.

"Yes."

He considered her for a moment later before evidently deciding she wasn't worth the time and looked back at Teddy, who internally cursed, not knowing what to do with the god's attention. Luckily, his father didn't seem to notice his son's hesitation, and continued as if nothing had happened.

"I need you to do something for me."

That didn't seem right. That an immortal god would need anything from some mortal. Next to him, he could feel Farrah stiffen and it dawned on him. Ah, yes. A quest. He had heard about these, though he hadn't even considered that he would ever go on one himself, let alone so soon. Apollo continued.

"I lost my lyre. I need you to find it."

"Your what?" Teddy asked. Even though he was the son of the god of music, he wasn't familiar with a lyre, and tried to understand who had been lying to a god, and why Apollo wanted such dishonesty back. Next to him, Farrah seemed to pick up on his confusion and whispered an explanation.

"It's an instrument." That only explained a few things, but she didn't give him the chance to reply and kept whispering. "Don't worry, we'll find it."

"We?" Teddy was finally able to tear his gaze away from the god, but only to look at her in confusion. Apollo told him to find the lyre, not her, or them. Despite his son's trepidation, however, he seemed to like the idea, clasping his hands together in glee.

"Oh, yes! A marvelous idea! A daughter of Hermes is a perfect companion to find my lyre. Take her with you." This was all happening so fast, Teddy couldn't process it, but Apollo didn't seem to care and prattled on. "Anyway, there's a concert at Olympus in, like, a week. So I need it by then. Preferably earlier so I don't miss soundcheck. So find the lyre, and bring it back, and I'll see you then. Any questions?"

He had so many questions, but it was difficult to get any out, especially when Apollo took his silence as a no and offered a dazzling smile, turning back to the door. As he did, Chiron galloped up.

"Apollo, my old friend!" He bellowed, and the two walked off together. Without his light, the room seemed much dimmer. As Teddy's eyes adjusted, he blinked in confusion.

"What just happened?"

Next to him, Farrah released a breath he hadn't realized she was holding and when he looked at her, she was suppressing a smile.

"We just got called on a quest."