#I forgot how to spell Robert’s last name

[marvelobsessed134]

UGHHH HE CANNOT JUST LOOK LIKE THAT IM GOING INSANE AHHHH I NEED HIM TO PERSONALLY TEACH ME IYKWIM

[sgsketchbook]

i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t excited to see these kids again on friday

anyways here they are at the cast party we deserved to see

[spookymonthincorrectquotes]

What happens when all the characters are on Tumblr-:

Skid: Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

Pump: LISTEN-

Robert: Not all of them. 30 and 50 aren’t spelled with the letter e in it …

Roy: father god

Ross: …if you can split a number in half evenly, it’s even. 30 and 50 are odd.

Roy: -_-’

Ross: (15+15=30 25+25=30)

Robert: 25+25 = 30? You sure about that??

Kevin: Lord have mercy….

Frank: Bye

Kevin: 3 days into 2018 smh

Fat thief: LMAOOOOOOO

Thin thief: One Three Five Nine And since everything else after that is a variant of these numbers, then all odds have the letter ‘E’.

Jack: 🗣YOU FORGOT SEVEN!!

John: It keeps getting worse.

Jaune: LMAOOO WHAT IS GOING ON

Radford: My head hurts…

Phil: This is why that Tumblr University shit was the dumbest idea ever just look at this

Patty: who failed yall?

Lila: IM SCREAMING

Moloch: You whole ass forgot about eight - a number with an e and is pretty fucking even

Dexter: why would 8 be brought up if it’s EVEN in a post about ODDS??????? the post said “every single ODD number has an ‘e’ in it” not “every single number with an ‘e’ is odd” what the fuck

Eyes: 3 days until 2019 and we’re still here

Radford: happy New year’s eve

Kevin: I’m going to bring this flaming dumpster into 2019 so future generations can see what a mistake Tumblr was

Fat thief: Er, guys two is odd and doesn’t have an e. Just saying…

John: did you deadass just try to tell me two is odd? i’m fucking crying throw the whole website away

Jack: Reblogging for the last one😂

Rick: The one thing I notice is that no matter how much you want to throw this site away, you just can’t.

Happy Fella (As in the actor): TWO IS ODD?!?! PFFFTT I’M SCREAMING

Sad guy: Wait what about zero that’s an odd number ,no?

Candy Dealer: ok but hear me out fifty and thirty make up for the fact they have no e by the way they are pronounces third-E fifth-E

Susie: bro why do 30 and 50 matter THEY’RE FUCKING EVEN

Phil: what the actual fuck is happening

Fat thief: 1 is an even number

John: I’m gonna smack you

Thin thief: -30 and -50 have an e in them

Jack: Wait why are we so quick to throw away the Zero idea

Happy Fella (Dexter doll (yes he died in the middle of the post lol)): Zero isn’t a number

Robert: It can’t be divided by two though, can it

Susie: It can??? 0/2=0??

Roy: OD NUMBERS onE thrEE fivE sEvEn ninE

Robert: OD numbers huh?

Ross: Anything that ends with a 0,2,4,6,8 is even and the rest is odd (1,3,7,9) stop freaking out y’all

Pump: YOU FORGOT 5

Kevin, whos lost braincells at this point: DUDE WHAT ABOUT FOUR

Radford: What about it?????

Kevin: THAT DOESN’T HAVE E IN IT

Radford: THAT’S BECAUSE IT’S EVEN?????

Lila: A R E Y O U G U Y S O K A Y

Eye: 21 days away from 2020, folks.

Kevin: Please tell me I can start the new freaking decade with a post arguing about something as stupid as this. Please. 🙏

Pump: This is art at its finest

Ross: one week to 2020 dudes

Kevin: I’m so done

Fat thief: Im so upset that even with all the “zero is odd” “no it’s not” stuff no one bothered to point out… It doesn’t matter. Zero, 0, zEro

Thin thief: But zero isn’t odd. It’s fucking the lack of a number. It’s neutral. It’s empty. There’s nothing there

Fat thief: Zero is a number.

Mr. Wonder: A definition of an even number is that it can be divided by 2 and the result is a whole number. Since you cannot divide zero, you cant divide it by 2 and that means that zero is an odd number. zEro, onE, thrEE, fivE, sEvEn, ninE, ElEven, and then the suffix -teen and every other odd number in english contains the names of the numbers 1 to 9.

Thin thief: zero is not a goddamn odd number what. even i know that and i’m not good at math. also you can divide 0 by 2, it’s 0, you literally just divide it and you just get 0 out oh my gosh. you can’t divide by zero but you can divide zero.

John: Quote from this one “ So, technically, [zero] is even. In fact, it is the most even number there is.” also does anybody on here ever look anything up or? this is making my brain physically hurt. christ.

Jack: NO. NO FUCK YOU ALL WE ARE NOT BRINGING THIS SHIT INTO 2020. WHOEVER BROUGHT THIS BACK DID IT ON PURPOSE AND I WILL FUCKING HUNT YOU DOWN FOR SPORT FUCK YOU. FUCK THIS.

Pump: This post was an absolute train wreck and I’m cursing my followers with it

Susie: Damn you

Fat thief: “Anyone can do math, even gay people”

Thin thief: Bitch, are you sure???

The clown (Yes it's speaking English, it's TUMBLR not actual speech): This post is amazing. The Chaos is pleased.

Phil: Is this fucking number discourse

Patty: Do you have an issue with that?

Phil: No but just out of all the things it’s about numbers Just that it’s weird is all

Rick: The internet is weird, you should be used to that by now.

Pump: Yeah that’s true

Radford: At least the cum soup post was less weird than this

Lila: Uhh I’m sorry the what

Jaune: Oh boy here we go again

John: How many times have I done this so far

Jack: I’ve done this like… three, maybe four times so far

John: Do you really want to know

Fat thief: You can turn back now

Roy: Please why did I have to see this post I had midterms today and my brain is already dead I don’t have enough brain cells for this

Skid: I had never seen this before today and I told my grandma about it and she’s shaking her head in both humor and disappointment. Good job everyone!

Pump: This is the longest post but yall forgot 6

Robert: And 1,3,5,7, and 9 are odd numbers. 5 is an honorary even number, but it is still odd.

Ross: Happy 2020 everyone! Everyday we stray further from god.

Roy: two years later and we’re still… tumblr

Pump: Reminds me of the recent pinky finger somebody that I used to know debacle on tiktok

[childrenofthenightt]

spellbound

pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of substances, one (1) swear and a little nsfw at the end

words: 3k

summary: when in new orleans, there’s always something new and exciting to experience. when the boys take shelter in a quaint jazz lounge, they discover a hidden gem.

author’s note: this was an idea born from @timetraveller4 and her lovely mind, so thank you for that ash <3 no beta as always, and i really hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

It was Bonzo’s idea, originally.

The drummer had proposed that the band, accompanied, of course, by the infamous Richard Cole, go to a lounge for the night. See what the music scene was like, outside of their little bubble.

Touring had become almost monotonous, the endless flow of groupies blending into a hazy background of alcohol and drugs. They were in New Orleans for the night, and needed a release from the antics; a release of pressure.

Walking along the cobbled streets, lit only by tall, blinding streetlights, the hunt for the perfect spot continued. Rain twinkled like stardust upon them, landing in their hair and falling down their backs. Jimmy shivered, burrowing further into his coat, a rich navy blue, butterflies made of sparkling sequins fluttering across his shoulders. Cigarette dangling from lush, pink lips, he sighed out a faint white cloud of smoke. His long, dark hair stuck to his face and neck, and a swear burst past his lips. His curls hid emerald eyes from view like a curtain of darkness, and he shook his head.

It’ll be fun, he said. Don’t worry about it, he said. Just relax.

Robert, unaware of the glare the raven-haired guitarist was sporting, strolled ahead, eyes catching on a glowing sign, slick with rain and slightly weather-beaten. The place must be old, he thought.

Sliding closer, he gazed up at it, ocean eyes squinting against the rain that seemed to pour harder, faster, the further they ventured from their hotel. The sign, neon lights blurring into haloes of colour, read ‘The Whispering Wind’. Underneath sat a truly artistic rendition of wispy winds fading into a cloud, the pure ivory of its light cascading across the damp sidewalk like a graceful stream. You could almost feel the warmth and hospitality behind the closed doors, and Robert, whose smile seemed to light the path better than any streetlamp could, turned to his companions.

“This looks like a fine place, doesn't it?”

“Let’s go inside. Better than staying out here,” Jonesy replied, slipping past the singer to grasp at the ornate golden handle of the mahogany door. The bassist pulled the door open and stepped through, and almost immediately, he was enveloped by the comforting heat that seemed to settle into his chilled bones. “Definitely better.”

One by one, the boys stepped into the lounge, smiling as they took in the atmosphere. By the door sat a long bar, maple wood shining in the dim light filtering out from the fixtures hanging from above. Paintings of old Hollywood royalty decorated the taupe walls, while a spotlight affixed to the ceiling bathed the wooden surface of the stage against the wall in faint yellow light. The ruby red of the curtains complimented the exposed maroon brick of the opposite wall, and booths, with scarlet upholstery streaked through with pristine gold, littered the floor.

It was cramped and dimly lit, certainly not fit for the rock gods it sheltered. It was perfect.

Jimmy stood just outside the door, taking a final drag of the cigarette burning between his lips. Glancing around the cove of the entryway, his eyes locked onto a poster plastered across the wet brick of the building. The silhouette of a woman stood against a simple black background, gripping a microphone stand in manicured hands, mystery and class in the subtle curve of her lips. Half of her body was painted in a silvery light, and Jimmy stared at the long crimson dress she was wearing. Tantalizingly long legs are just visible from the slit that splits the gown.

In bold white lettering, a collection of dates are scrawled across its surface, but it’s the name that rippled across the paper that caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Hm…”

Must be tonight’s performer, he thought. She’s gorgeous, from what Jimmy could tell; the sultry gaze, the teasing uptick of her rosy lips. The guitarist just hoped that she’s as talented as she is beautiful.

Jimmy let the cigarette in his hands drop to the floor, crushing it under his heel, smoky ash mingling with the scent of petrichor. Grasping the frigid metal of the door handle, the man’s ebony curls flew in every direction as he shivered once more. Slipping through the open door, a wave of comfort rushed over him, warmth settling into his core. The light din of unimportant conversation settled over him like a plush blanket, calming his perpetually racing mind.

Jimmy, spotting his friends at a table far back from the stage, sidled up to the bar, signalling for attention. Ordering his favourite of gin and tonic, the dark-haired guitarist walked back over to join the group, sitting down right next to Robert. The blond glanced over at him and grinned, wrapping a tanned arm around his shoulders.

“It’s a wonder you’ve stopped frowning, Pagey.”

“I was warned I’d get stuck like that, you see,” Jimmy grumbled, the hint of a smile that graced his lips shattering the image of dissatisfaction. “Hasn’t happened yet, but who knows what the future holds.”

“Ah. If it weren’t for your sunny disposition, we’d be in trouble.”

“You—”

The retort died on his tongue, and his mossy green eyes went impossibly wide.

An alluring voice, smooth and rich, rang clear and sharp through the air, charming the patrons of the lounge. The rasping tone made Jimmy’s mind go utterly blank, too entranced to react. Mingling with the droplets that danced from the black grand piano, the performer made his heart pound in his chest like a bass drum. Shaking Robert’s arm off, he turned to face the stage, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

“I put a spell on you, because you're mine. Oh, mine…”

Up on the stage, stood the most beautiful woman Jimmy had ever seen. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, a lovely contrast to the skin of her exposed shoulder. The woman fluttered around the stage, her dress, the colour of a midnight sky, swaying as she moved. She was full to the brim with restrained confidence: she knew she could dazzle the audience, but really, she didn't need to. They were already eating out of her palm.

Jaws hit the floor and every eye in the room was firmly trained on her, and the graceful smirk painting her features served as proof. She was a siren, and the audience her doomed admirers. Jimmy couldn't tear his eyes away through the whole performance, and his distracted clapping as she curtsied alerted his bandmates.

“You okay, Jim? Looks to me like,” Bonzo started, glancing over at Robert with mischief shining in his dark eyes, “You’ve got yourself a little crush, no?”

“I’m… She’s just—”

“Perfect? Gorgeous, talented,” Jonesy interrupted, catching the guitarist’s attention. A smug grin at home on his lips, the bassist shrugged, turning to face his friend. “And… standing right over there.”

Following the path pointed out by Jonesy’s outstretched finger, Jimmy’s eyes locked on a familiar figure, floor-length gown shimmering in the dim light. Stood at the bar, she rested her arms on the surface as she leaned closer to talk to the bartender. Throwing her head back in a genuine laugh, she bares her throat, and Jimmy’s mouth goes dry. The performer takes the drink offered to her, a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey in her manicured hands. A finger lazily traced the rim. The beautiful woman turned towards them then, locking eyes with the guitarist over her shoulder. She winked, and walked away, a ring of condensation on the tabletop all that was left of her.

“Hey, Cole,” Jimmy whispered into the silence that had fallen over the table, and turned to the man, whose only response was a telling smirk. “Would you… Could you, uh…”

“On it, boss.”

In a split second, the man shuffled away from the table, his parting gift a wink at the sable-haired guitarist.

------

As you step on stage, the crowd’s chatter continues, and you smile to yourself. Nights at The Whispering Wind were always like this: the snippets of conversation fading into a symphony of white noise. It calms you, being so used to the bustling New Orleans streets. This is a little slice of paradise, in your eyes.

You flatten down your dress, velvet soft against your hand, and gaze over to your pianist. Nodding back, he launches in, soft at first, but crescendoing soon after. His hand raised in the air, he looks over to you.

Your cue.

You take a deep breath, lungs filling with smoky air, and sing your heart out. Light and shade battle for dominance as you play the audience like a fiddle. Your voice, full of lust and desire, floats around the room, and you smirk to yourself, looking at the sea of faces in front of you. Everything is hazy, the spotlights blurring your vision, but you can swear someone is staring at you. A man, it looks like. His dark hair shines in the faded light, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence and, interestingly enough, appreciation. It takes effort to tear your eyes away from him, but you succeed, and belt out the last line. Your smile rivals the bright lights shining down on you, and you curtsy. The cheers of the audience serves as your soundtrack, as you step off stage, scurrying over to the bar. It takes a special effort not to gaze at the mystery man as you pass.

“Lovely evening for a drink, isn’t it? I’ll have whiskey, neat.”

“Coming right up, Madam,” The bartender winks at you, a smile blossoming on your face. He sets the drink into your waiting hands, and leans against the counter, smirking at you kindly. “Wonderful show, tonight. You’re a talent, my dear.”

“Well, thank you,” you reply, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Your smile grows brighter, and your giggle is featherlight as it floats past your lips, “It’s what I love to do.”

Your conversation is interrupted by the sounds of whispers from behind you, and you look over your shoulder. Those eyes, the bright shade of green you had seen from the stage, were looking right back at you. He looks shy, nervous even, almost hiding behind his tawny-haired friend. From your spot at the bar, you can tell, now, just how handsome he truly is. His dark hair falls in tastefully mussed curls, and his skin looks clear, almost like porcelain. His lips are petal-pink, and look soft. His jaw is sharp, and he’s rather thin; scrawny even, but he’s still gorgeous.

Holding his gaze, you wink, and his eyes go impossibly wider. You tip the bartender and walk away, a “thank you” thrown over your shoulder. A safe distance away from the mystery man and his posse, you chance a look back, and spot a man standing from the table, patting the black-haired beauty on the back. To your surprise, he weaves through the crowd towards you.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he says, catching up to you. He smooths down his button-up shirt, and sends a charming grin your way, holding out a hand to shake. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Y/N. And yours, if I may?”

“Richard Cole.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Cole?” This is met by a chuckle from the man, his hand going up to stroke his dark beard.

“Well, lovely, do you see that man over there, with the black hair?” You follow his outstretched hand, and your eyes fall upon your mystery man. He’s looking back at you, hands fiddling with each other. His gaze finally drops from yours, and the tell-tale blush rising on his cheeks makes you laugh softly. “He’d love to have a chat with you.”

“If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here himself and tell me that.”

Cole chuckles, and shakes his head fondly. Glancing over at the mystery man, he waves him over. From your spot, you can see the way he approaches on shaky legs, and you smile, recognizing him instantly. With a pat on the back of the curly-haired man, Mr. Cole is gone, and you're alone together. This is going to be fun.

“What’s your name, darling?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s not every day that a world-famous musician stops by ‘The Whispering Wind’, after all.

“I-it’s Jimmy… uh, Page.” His hands, you notice, are clenched into fists, and he shuffles from foot to foot. You press closer to him, and he blushes harder, cheeks almost aflame.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. I’m—”

“You’re Y/N, aren't you? I saw the poster outside, and I thought you were beautiful,” Breath hitching as he realizes what he just said, Jimmy slaps a hand over his mouth. His emerald eyes signal that he’s embarrassed, but you can only giggle. “I only meant that—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Jimmy’s thin hand flies up to scratch the top of his head, and his hair falls in his face, effectively blocking him from view. You can see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you. I, uh… you’re an amazing vocalist. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, your stage presence was… arresting.”

“So you admit to staring at me?”

“Well, I… You…”

I’m just playing, Jimmy,” Your laugh twinkles as it fills the silence, and Jimmy’s lips quirk up in a small smile upon hearing it. “If anything, I should be the one staring. Led Zeppelin’s a big deal, y’know.”

“You… you recognized me?”

“You boys aren't exactly rising stars. Being as famous as you are, I didn’t think you’d be this humble.”

He chuckles under his breath, and looks up at you through his eyelashes. It seems he’s grown more confident now, and you smile, gaze drifting down to his mouth. If you leaned in, just a little, your lips would meet, and you could finally know if his are as soft as they look.

“We’re in New Orleans for another day, uh… I was wondering if, well… God, I’m terrible at this.”

“Jimmy—”

“Could I… take you out, sometime?” His halting, nervous speech only makes him more endearing, and you gaze into his eyes as he squirms. Jimmy sputters, trying to take his words back, but you silence him with a hand on his bicep. Lean muscle ripples under your hand, and you smile at him.

“Jimmy.”

“Oh God, I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I? J-just forget what I said, I don’t know what—”

“It’s—”

“Seriously, it was probably a mistake to ask you that. I mean,” Jimmy’s head droops, hair shielding him once more, and you can’t help the fondness that rushes through you. Unaware of the smile that nearly splits your cheeks, he presses on, hands flying back and forth to prove his point, “You’re absolutely divine, and I’m just— Uh...”

Close enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, you put a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his coat. Your fingers catch slightly on the bedazzled butterflies that adorn it. His eyes follow your hands as they dance and twirl across the fabric, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath echo in the slight space between the two of you. A lone finger finally finds his chin, and you lift his head to look at you.

“Eyes on me, chéri.”

His gorgeous green eyes meet yours from under his curly fringe, and you push a stray lock to rest behind his ear. His cheeks redden even more, something you hadn’t thought possible, as he stares into your eyes.

Pressing close to him, his scent surrounds you, and your lips brush against the curve of his ear.

“Tu veux un rendez-vous? Tu dois travailler pour cela, chéri.”

You pull away, and he is left with the ghost of soft lips against his cheek, the scent of your perfume floating after you as you walk away. Jimmy stands in place, too stunned to even react, until a hand at his back makes him jump. Glancing over his shoulder, he spots his bandmates, smirks at home on their faces. Jonesy pipes up, looking him up and down.

“You okay, Page? You’re looking pretty red…”

“It seems, and correct me if I’m wrong,” interjects Bonzo, as he slips an arm around Jimmy, guiding him back to their table. Jimmy slumps into a chair, stunned into silence, a hand raising to his cheek. Bonzo chuckles, and continues, “Like your crush just got a lot more serious.”

------

Safe behind the door of his hotel room, Jimmy trudges to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Slipping out of his clothes, that he folds neatly on the bed, the guitarist steps in. Steam curls in tendrils around the small bathroom, and Jimmy takes a deep breath. Hand settling on his cock, he begins stroking it slowly; experimentally. The pleasure feels incredible, euphoric even, as his mind drifts to the intriguing woman he had met just an hour ago. Her image is seared into his mind, and every touch she had given him felt like a wildfire licking at his skin. His groans match the speed of his hand as he speeds up, gripping the tiled wall for support.

The scent of her perfume, something floral, unplaceable, lingered in his nose, and he wishes to see her again. To have that scent invade all of his senses, again. Jimmy’s whimpers, quiet, yet keening, echo off the walls, as he reaches his peak. He imagines her there with him, raking a hand roughly through his hair, her hands roaming every inch of skin they could reach.

His muscles twitch as warmth spills over his hand, a soft grunt slipping past his gritted teeth. He’s in ecstasy, something better than any drug. Something he doesn’t ever want to come down from.

As he recovers from the high he had just experienced, his gasping breaths fill the space. Knees trembling from exertion, he grips onto the slippery shower wall, and whispers into the steam that fills the room.

“Y/N…”

------

(the french sentence: you want a date? you have to work for that, darling)

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

[jayisgay]

So I’ve just started The Magnus archives, and I’m on season 2 (episode 52) now and i thought I’d make a list of characters so I can see if I actually know what’s going on (doubtful)

We got the main people:

John (Archivist), Sasha/Martin/Tim (employees), Elias (boss), Gertrude (dead archivist)

Recurring characters?

Mary Keay and Jared(?) Keay (I think there’s also a Gerard but no idea who he is someone tell me please if it’s not a spoiler), Leitner(not him tho just his books) this Simon Fairchild dude, Micheal with the weird hands, the delivery guys, that murderer dude who used to be a police officer (Robert Montork?) the dude with the burns who was killed by Jared/Gerard (no idea which one) the Lukas family (who are apparently patrons of the Magnus institute?) some dude whose last name is Salaissa (no idea how to spell that) that one dude who appeared in episode 17 with the Lichtenberg scars (forgot his name) Father Edwin Burroughs, that one dude with the creepy calliope organ (or I guess not him just the circus he worked for) and that one architect guy (Robert something or other maybe?)

Recurring things that aren’t characters:

Leitner tomes, weird messed up buildings, meat, bugs (spiders, flies, worms) rot, lightning related things, that weird fucking table

If I missed any character names can someone help me please lol

Also should I know who Gerard/Jared is

Loving this podcast so far but it’s completely incomprehensible <3

[bansheeoftheforest]

Us telling each other to go to sleep while simultaneously not sleeping

-

1) You can just stop writing the au if you hate it so much, or just take a hiatus. I know people like it but you shouldn't burn yourself out!

2) Have you ever heard of the Lykoi cat? Please search them up if you haven't

3) Diphylleia Grayi, is a type of flower that looks turns "invisible" when it touches water

4) Do you have a favorite spider?

5) Help I keep drawing porcelain Jekylls that I'll never post </3 /lh

6) hsjsvdjsgh I cant think of anything. Uhhh. The Wulver is a scottish creature that's a furry person with the head of a wolf and shares fish with locals. Honestly most drawings look like furries I've just noticed, why is no one drawing em with proper clothes

7) Similar questions to my last(?) ask. Do you have any thoughts on what supernatural/mythical creatures tgs characters would be if they were one? And what would your latest oc that I keep forgetting how to spell the name of be?

...The fact that that is accurate scares me-- I'm also going to save that meme for future references everytime either of us catch the other up late sdfds

1) THEORETICALLY YES... But I know that if I take a hiatus I will never finish it, and I know how guilty I would feel for not continuing it... Plus, most of my complaining is just dramatic but I'm not used to make chaptered fics and never will ever again. I guess it's just a mix between constantly having to worry about how the fic is perceived (especially since we are entering the more controversial/angsty chapters rn) combined with the deadline that makes... Me sad :'3

2) *frantic googling* OH MY GOD THEY LOOk LIKE THE DEFINITON OF A TRASH GOBLIN I WANT FIVE OF THEM IMMEDIATELY SFSDFSDF

3) oo h h m y god... It looks like ice... Are they edible? My brain is telling me to go absolutely bonkers on them. O o h h m y god

4) I had a very weird phase as a kid, who was also very afraid of spiders, where I tried to convince my parents to give me a tarantula because I saw that they were fluffy. I'm still massively afraid of spiders but otherwise I'd say redkneed birdspider (is that the english name???)

5) Bestie I know how it feels my entire sketch book is just drawings of my ocs that will never grace tumblr </3

6) Oh man. I love Wulvers. I know jack shit about them but I had planned to have Henry meet a wulver in the Irrbloos Au at some point, since they were benevolent and helpful I had planned to have a wulver lead him back and get him back to the real world at some point but I never got so far into that plotline. But honestly... All pictures of werewolves of all kinds look like furries. Did you know that they have werehyenas in africa, which is basically just reverse werewolves (i.e a hyena that turns into a human instead of the other way around)?

7) I'm going to start off by saying that Cederic definitely would be some kind of nymph-like creature like an incubus of some kind or just a straight up male nymph/siren, something very pretty and very seductive because, I don't know if anyone read his part of the updated OC masterlist post, he was originally a prostitute and very much uses that to his advantage to get what he wants. Something cat-like would also make sense, as his mother (in the actual DND campaign) is the egyptian cat goddess Bastet, but regardless, he still has his cat so it would fit no matter.

*cracks knuckles* alright here we go. Not going to go into a lot of context i'm just going to spew shit out.

Jekyll - Werewolf, really, that's no surprise but a werewolf fits so good. Having a monstrous side he tries to hide that only comes out at night? *chef's kiss*

Hyde - Imp or poltergeist.

Robert - Vampire.

Rachel - Selkie

Jasper - since he already is a werewolf, he would just be Some Dude

Frankenstein - Dwarf, or Baba Yaga.

Griffin - Ghost that does not want to be a ghost

Emma - A Huldra, maybe? A benevolent nymph? A banshee? I just love her and I wanted to add her to the list somehow.

Maijabi - a ghost who is totally chill with being dead. Maybe one of those spirits who like to fuck with humans (metaphorically speaking) by hailing cabs and then ditching them in the middle of the ride.

Lavender/Ito - those centaurs that are deer instead of horses I forgot the name sdsdfs

thats all i can come up w at the moment sdfsdf

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 5 "Pumpkin Patch" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

The theme was "Let Them Eat Cake," so my dad bought me this foreclosed McMansion down the street, and, like, 500 of my closest friends came dressed in 18th century attire, and, oh, the pool was filled with this, like, caviar slurry. And then at midnight, we just burnt the house down. When the firefighters came, they were actually strippers, and they put out the fire with champagne.

So walk me through this, honey.

Well, as you can see, every pumpkin in the patch is artisanal.

Then we move past the ice sculptures of demonic peeing cherubs, and yes, they will all be peeing vodka and Red Bull.

I'm sorry. Corn maze?

It's just that doing an exact replica maze from The Shining would have taken us way over budget on man power alone.

I told you money was no object.

Well, apparently, one of them died or something.

Do you have any idea what's at stake here?

Okay, well, it's not my fault that some guy died in the '70s.

I am tired of your sad-sack, I'm-a-total-downer-all-the-time schtick.

I'm over it!

Oh, my God, why are you so depressed?

Why do I have to be the homely one?

Just a second, nutbag.

God, do I have to spell it out for you?

You're a weird, psycho lunatic who's gonna end up in an asylum somewhere, staring at a wall, trying to nurse a watering can.

That's it! I can't take this anymore!

That is such a Mary Todd Lincoln thing to say.

You scream "I'm done with you" kind of a lot, and yet you're still standing here.

I think you know you have a good thing going.

You get to bask in my starlight as I do all the work and you get to grumble behind my back about how disrespected you are.

There's the door.

There's the door, bitch!

You did not deserve to be spoken to like that. Ever.

That is bollocks!

Clearly this fake kidnapping is a play to get the sympathy vote. So Gone Girl.

This is the biggest candle night of the year!

I hate you right now!

Halloween is the greatest night of the year. Greatest night. Because on this night, even kind of shy, kind of homely girls dress up like total sluts. I mean, every costume is just a slutty version of something. Slutty teacher, slutty nurse, slutty nun. I saw a girl last year dressed as slutty al-Qaeda!

See, Halloween it's a night for dudes with killer bods to walk around with our shirts off. And it's totally appropriate, as long as we call ourselves gladiators, Chippendales.

I have no idea how you got into this college.

Look, we'll just hang out and play charades!

This cannot be happening!

Hey, what about Black Hairy Tongue Disease? I mean, does nobody here care about Black Hairy Tongue?

What about my pumpkin patch?

I blame you for this.

[NAME], nice boobs.

Join me in saying you are not afraid!

Just baking some cookies for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

Uh, they're toenail cookies.

Pink fur coats worn in all weather, my idea. Flapper dresses made out of feathers, also my idea. Oversized sunglasses worn everywhere, my idea, my idea, my idea!

So why are you baking toenail cookies and giving them to children?

Okay, whose side are you on?

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I'm what you call

a "switch-hitter."

Wait, are you bisexual? Because that's what "switch-hitter" means.

Do you mean "double agent"?

What are you writing?

Do you know how big Halloween is in the candle community?

Is this an ant farm?

There's a mom ant, Deborah, who mostly just lies around and she has about 100 husband ants, who come around and give it to her good, which she really enjoys. And then there's about a million sterile daughter ants who feed her and are her slaves. So, an ideal family.

She'd win. And then I'd beg to be her second-in-command, while quietly pull the strings behind the scenes like Dick Cheney.

This plan involves a lot of circuitous logic.

Oh, my God! Those are, like, $100 each!

They're the highest quality candles that can be purchased retail.

What a brilliant and revolutionary idea.

Are you cheating?

This is a clear violation of the honor code.

You must be new here.

Who are you calling?

I'm gonna get you fired.

At least you wore something nice today.

Remember to smile for your mug shot.

I'm burping uncontrollably like Robert Durst.

They'll know I'm guilty!

I'm next in line and in charge here.

You can sum up my viewpoint on this with one word; indifference.

We are her only hope.

Sometimes, in order for a person to achieve their full potential, they have to do things on their own.

I am in charge here!

I love that you're a man.

This is the most sensual song ever written.

We need to do this right now!

I just saw her boobs.

Oh, a salad date is, it's like, it's more casual than dinner, but more formal than coffee.

Whose pants are these?

You know, you're a human being with feelings and needs, right?

Enough about me and my confusion and sad dead feeling inside.

It just really hurt my feelings.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my so-called friends are the ones that turned me in so I'm just feeling, like, super alone right now.

Man, I am your biggest Instagram fan!

I just think you are a style genius.

I will never be able to repay you for the kindness you've shown me in here.

Besties for life, I say.

Your bail's been posted.

I knew you'd bail me out.

Can I just say what a relief it is to be able to share it with somebody and not feel judged?

You know, I mean, all my girlfriends are like, "That's immoral." "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Ashamed? What the hell you got to be ashamed for?

You should be proud.

I could've lost my job.

I mean, it lasted, like, 45 seconds, and the whole time, it just felt like I was getting stabbed in the abdomen.

I tied him up and I kept my uniform on and proceeded

to read him his rights. My favorite being "You got the right to remain sexy."

Give me some!

You know he's sexy!

That was one of the best nights of my life.

Well, I've already contacted the police department, despite the fact that a person can't be considered "missing" until at least 72 hours has passed.

That's morbid.

I've already hired an investigator.

What, are you two a couple now?

What the hell are you doing?

You sold me down the river, bitch.

Wait, Gary Coleman's parents stole his kidneys?

I would never say that, because I'm pretty sure that never even happened.

Why does ratting me out sound like exactly something you would do?

You know, I've never thought of myself as a killer, but I am seriously considering ramming this pick into the back of your eye socket.

Maybe you'll get your head sawed off.

You have cameras in my room?

I have eyes everywhere, bitch.

The name of my future perfume is Revenge.

How is that something you just happen to know?

That is stupidest thing I've ever heard.

What's the password?

I just can't eat any more of these.

This ain't The Marriage Ref! This ain't Judge Joe Brown! We ain't on the Maury Show! We ain't standin' in line trying to get tickets to Dr. Phil! I am not Steve Harvey, people, and this ain't the Family Feud!

I'm tryin' to catch a killer.

Help me get the spy gear in the car!

How can you promise?

We're in a maze, you don't know where you're going!

I always knew it would come to this.

Why are we doing this right now?

I forgot the flashlights!

What am I supposed to do with this?

This is so creepy.

It smell like booty in here.

I'm getting a nervous feeling in my stomach.

I might start farting. If I cut some, you promise not to tell anyone?

Oh, my boob!

Stay where you are! I'll come and get you!

Ooh, this is nice.

It's really beautiful.

It looks like you just crossed some stuff out and wrote that in in marker.

Okay, can we talk about that for a second? Because it just happened a few hours ago, and I'm still really traumatized.

I need some cheering up right now.

Excuse me, darling, I'm exhausted.

Wait, we need to hear what happened to you.

Just wondering where you find a house with a pit. The market for them would be pretty limited.

Did you escape, or did you kill him?

I've always had a thing for bad boys.

That got way out of hand.

[ajokeformur-ray]

ok so for the match up thing!! name is loren, im 20, a 5'2 tiny goth kiddo who looks always grumpy and has a dark sense of humor i guess. i study philosophy and i write for a theatre company because i don't have the guts to act!! im,,, a shy mess. never dated before although i had some casual sex but really it felt so empty that i choice not to have it anymore unless im in love honestly. i own a typewriter! and im always dancing in my room because it feels good and it helps me when im manic!

also I have BPD and I cling too much to people, like really depending by em if they’re my fave at the moment and im very jealous and have anger issues but I try my best to be nice or polite at least!! i love cats, snakes and ravens. i love cozy days when you do nothing at all except for laying under a blanket and watch the rain or little things like this! i like to cook and being Italian, i can cook very well. i have glasses but i hate how I do look with em so I don’t ever wear em.

i love arthur fleck so fucking much i literally would die for him because he needs to be spoiled and cuddled and just thinking about him makes me cry so loud- but i love the joker as well, of course, being the smug bastard he is!! and daydreaming about him helps me going through the day which it’s not always so easy because sometimes it’s just too much, you know

ohhhh I forgot I wear a shit load of make up like literally I look like Robert Smith most of the time and I don’t give a fuck about people opinions ai literally go to lessons dressed like a gothic doll most of the time

i’m also a night owl

Arthur Fleck (I know he’s angry in this GIF but fuck he’s hot)

word count: 1, 131

We don’t know Arthur’s real age, but Joaquin (the gorgeous man that he is) is 44, so let’s assume the same for Arthur for a touch of realism, shall we? That being said, this means that Arthur would be so hesitant to even talk to you because of your age. You see him staring, though, you see him following you sometimes wearing that thin yellow hoodie he seems to love, and so you decide to approach him. He’s instantly smitten.

You have a dark sense of humour and so does Arthur, so this is perfect for his ego. His comedy is a sore spot, it always has been, because no one supports this precious boi in anything he does and it’s really fucking sad. When he cracks a really dry, deadpan and dark joke and you burst out laughing, love just blooms in his chest and he falls in love with you a little more. How are you real? He’s convinced you’re a delusion he’s concocted sometimes, but he dares not question it. Anything is better than the truth. Anything.

You study philosophy, so your intellect is definitely above Arthur’s. His handwriting is really bad (in the cutest way? Imagine handwritten letters from him that are filled with smiley faces and words scribbled out like 1000000 times because he can’t spell it right until he gives up and uses a word he does know how to spell) and because of how impoverished he is, that suggests that he’s uneducated. As such, when you write an essay or an assignment or you complete some other work, he’d want to read it but he wouldn’t really understand some of the more technical stuff. He’s not at all stupid, he’s very clever, and I think sometimes he’d ask you a question late at night about the thing you’re studying just so he can go to sleep to the sound of your voice. With his weary head cushioned on your chest, your heartbeat in his ear, your voice and your hands in his hair, he’d be asleep in no time.

I feel like Arthur would really love the fact that you’re shy because that means it’s easier for him to assume the protective role? So, like, he’d find your shyness frankly adorable and if you ever got shy over him then it just becomes a circle of shyness before Arthur bursts out into uncontrollable laughter and you have to comfort him through a fit. Just squeeze his hand, patiently wait it out, and reap the rewards when he can breathe again and his lips are on yours as a thank you.

You love to dance and this… Oh, this is a quintessential part of your whole relationship. When it’s late at night and Arthur is listening to music on the radio, he’d approach you, his body already swaying to the beat, and his hands would find your hips and he’d dance with you, doing that really fucking attractive shoulder thing he does. It ends up with the two of you in the bedroom doing a different kind of dance, if you get my meaning ;) Arthur understands how simple things can help you when you’re feeling a certain way, so when you’re feeling manic it’s almost 1000% guaranteed that he’ll just start dancing with you until you’re so tired you don’t want to do anything anymore.

You have BPD and you cling to people, which would actually really reassure our boi. He would need near constant reassurance that you’re real, that you love him, that he’s not hallucinating your entire fucking existence, that you’re not going to leave etc, etc. In return for all the coddling you (gladly) give him, he would do anything for you. And I mean anything ;) he would let you cling to him in any meaning - physically, mentally, emotionally. Anything. “You’re my Loren, it’s my job to take care of you.” and he’d do it so well you’d be ruined for anyone else in your life. Ever. He’s a jealous boi and though he’d take you at your word, if someone wasn’t getting the memo he’d have to step in. 

You both adore and live for cozy days inside his apartment. He has a special blanket that he likes to curl up under with you. It smells like the two of you and when either of you are missing the other because of work, studying or whatever else, then you huddle under it until the other returns. You can cook well, which is perfect because the best Arthur can do is really cheap microwave meals. He’s worryingly thin, not only because of the seven medicines he’s on but also because he just can’t afford to eat. It’d be really hard for him to even put any weight on, but at least you keep him regularly fed.

When you told Arthur that you would actually die for him and that you love him so much it just makes you cry sometimes, he’d be astounded. He’d just sit there, blinking for a few tense seconds before his throat rips with loud, intrusive laughter which is so hard and so uncontrollable that he can taste blood in the back of his throat. You’d hold him, love him, support him and cherish him and that right there means that he’s never going to leave you. Not ever. Sex with him reflects this. He’s so gentle, so tender and so loving that it makes your heart bleed. It’s not uncommon for one or both of you to actually cry during sex because you’re just so, so in love with each other that it hurts in the sweetest, most precious way.

You know who you are and you know what you want and you don’t give a fuck what people think about you. You wear what you want when you want and that’s such a fucking mood and Arthur would be so proud of you and he’d totally offer to do your makeup for you using his own work supplies! He’d be so careful and he’d giggle against the way your nose wrinkles when he’s a bit too careful with his brush and he’d want to kiss you again and again, ruining your makeup purposefully so he can stay closer to you for just a little longer and…. oh, I’m actually gonna cry writing this wow… (spoiler: I did.)

In the grand conclusion because wow I’ve rambled: you and Arthur have the sweetest, most precious relationship. It’s full of love. There are definite challenges, there are some arguments because things just get too much for the both of you sometimes and sometimes there’s more taking than giving on either side because that’s how it can be, but you never leave each other. Never, never, never.

Joker (fun fact when this part showed in the cinema I was with my mum and i legit went “Oh, fuck me” as in I properly moaned AND SHE HEARD ME. two weeks later and she still hasn’t said anything but I know she heard me)

word count: 1, 522

Whereas Arthur struggled to even think of talking to you because of the huge age gap, Joker really isn’t all that bothered. You’re a fully consenting adult who knows her own mind, so what’s the harm, right? So long as you’re both happy and comfortable with each other, he couldn’t care less. That being said, you’re 5′2 and Joker is 5′8 so there’d be some height teasing going on. He would put things up on a higher shelf in the kitchen just so he can come up behind you and ‘accidentally’ (on purpose) press his crotch up and into your bottom as he retrieves the item you’re after with a cocky grin on his face and fire in his eyes. Sexual teasing is a very normal part of your relationship and it’s a serious warning sign that he is not okay if he doesn’t do anything like that towards you all day. 

You have a dark sense of humour and you look grumpy a lot of the time, which means that, often, Joker will practically bounce up to you and use his index fingers to make you smile. It wouldn’t take long for you to actually smile from his actions, though, and that’s exactly why he does everything that he does; because he knows you can’t resist him, the smug bastard. Oh, but you love him, and he know the depth of your love for him. He’s so very honoured by it, though his way of showing it is sometimes to murder someone who irritated you last Thursday and not ever telling you about it. He’s a strange one, but he’s so free that you find yourself not minding. Just so long as he’s happy; when Joker is down, it means that something is hugely wrong and it reminds you so badly of Arthur that it hurts and you might have to crack out some of his own jokes just to cheer him up. For example, if you handed him an actual human heart and said, “I love you, Joker”, he’d burst out into loud and genuine laughter and would end up smudging his makeup from kissing you so soundly. Isn’t he gorgeous?

Joker isn’t political, religious, or anything of the sort. He tells you and others that he doesn’t believe in anything. But there’s one thing he believes in. Just one. It’s the love you have for each other that he vehemently believes in. if anyone even dared to suggest that your love isn’t as strong as you say - she’s just scared of being killed, that’s why she’s with him, or what a freak! How can she stand to kiss him? - then he’d go fucking apeshit. The last person he overheard doubting your love for him ended up swallowing several bullets in quick succession. Overkill? Perhaps, but he doesn’t care. No one gets to doubt your love for each other, not even yourselves. He’d be very supportive of your studies and I have no doubt that, if you ever got a shaky grade, it’d be changed very quickly by a shaking tutor who can’t quite look you in the eye. The smiley face on the whiteboard which looks like a child did it clues you in hugely, though. His actions are wrong but it comes from a very heavily guarded heart of gold.

Where Arthur finds your shyness cute and he would immediately adopt Protective Mode™, Joker would just relentlessly tease you just to see how deep your blush goes. “That’s an interesting shade of red, Loren. Where have I seen it before? Ah, yes…” *Twirls and fingers the hem of his red tuxedo* Be warned, though… Only Joker gets to tease you about being shy. If anyone else dared to tease you for being shy or for stuttering or for tripping over your words and oh god shut up, he’d rip them a new one. Only he gets to tease you. He does, sometimes, wind you up on purpose, just to see how far he can push you before you snap and want to punch something. He finds it incredibly amusing. Deep down, though, he’d be just as protective as Arthur and would find himself doing things for you that you’re too shy to do; in whatever means you need! ;)

You dance because it helps you when you’re manic but also because you enjoy it. Just like with Arthur, this is absolutely essential in your relationship with Joker. A lot of the time when you’re dancing, he’d step in flawlessly and you’d start dancing together like Fred and Ginger, with him dipping you, spinning you around, lifting you up with surprising strength, and it’s one of his favourite ways (other than makeup sex) to apologise to you. “Dance with me.” Immediately would his hands grab you, spinning you, his intense green eyes never leaving yours, that damned smirk on his lips as he sees that blush rising on your face… Again, like with Arthur, you do several modes of dancing together; some are more preferable to others!

When you’re out and about together in public, you’re basically glued together. Your hands are held so tightly by the other that you’re not sure whose hands is whose and, are your fingers getting a bit numb? Both of you have jealousy and anger issues for slightly different reasons; Joker because it’s borne from a place of deeply set abuse and abandonment issues, and you have your own reasons that he may or may not know about. He finds it baffling that you get jealous over him, though. So many of Arthur’s neuroses still live on in Joker, despite his bravado. You try to be polite, but Joker makes no such efforts; he will destroy someone for even glancing at you in the street. 

You both live for cosy days. These are the days during which Joker will relax his persona. He will cuddle with you, watching shows on TV, his fingers grazing along the underside of your breasts or even dipping under your underwear. You can arch your hips into his touch all you want, he’s not gonna give you what you want unless you’re patient. He loves foreplay more than the act itself; to him, anticipation heightens everything deliciously. You cook very well, and Joker would love to watch you cook. He enjoys the heat you summon into the bedroom, and he loves bending you over the counter, sweeping the dirty plates into the sink with a noisy crash (and you have to buy new plates at least once a week), and fucking you until you’re only upright  because of his arm wound tightly around your waist.

You once told Joker that you often think of him when you’re not with him, just because he offers you comfort and support from wherever he is. Just knowing he’s somewhere in Gotham wreaking havoc or even waiting for you to get home makes you feel like you can conquer the fucking world, and he was flattered. He did get a little upset, though, when you confessed that you would actually die for him if you had to. He kills for you, and sometimes because of you without a thought, but turning that idea around onto you makes him feel hot in all the wrong ways. I actually think Joker would crawl into your arms that night, needing to feel that you were there, and real, and even now he’s wondering how you could possibly love him knowing all that he has done and will continue to do. He would make you promise to never keep your word on this topic, because no one is gonna be dying in this relationship. You and him are forever a ride or die. For better or for worse.

You stand together at the bathroom sink putting your faces on. Your shoulders are touching, which means sometimes your elbows bump into each other and one of you makes a mistake with the makeup. “Oh, would you look at that? My makeup’s ruined,” Joker would hum, “what are you going to do about it, darling?” There’s only one answer to this, and it’s the two of you kissing each other so passionately that you have to wash your faces off and start again. Who knows, maybe you don’t get to leave the bathroom that day. Makeup is one of the biggest expenditures in your small household, even with Joker knowing where to go to get the good stuff.

In conclusion: dating Joker would be so very different to dating Arthur, but there is love, compassion, trust, adoration, so much sex you’re surprised you can still walk most mornings (he can and will go multiple rounds with you in a day; he’s a horny fucker, is our Joker), and there are definitely more emotional challenges than there are any other, but you’ve learned to stick it out with him over the years, You’d never leave him for any reason, even if he murdered everyone in Gotham (and a lot of the time he’s sorely tempted to burn the city to the ground and start all over again).

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Jealousy

Pairing: pre!Percy Weasley x Nicole Blake

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Nic realizes she’s jealous

A/N: This takes place during Chamber of Sec/rets because I hate that book and Percy having a girlfriend is good angst for the ship

When term started, everyone in Ravenclaw could tell something was off with Nic. She was more quiet than usual, her usual random fact rambles on the walks back from dinner ceased to exist. She spent most of her time studying in her dorm or in the library. Only her friends and roommates knew what was wrong, even if she didn’t realize it herself: she was jealous. The cause was known by only the prefects, at first at least, then slowly trickled to Nic’s closest friends when she accidentally blurted it out one late night after getting sugar-drunk from too many treacle tarts.

Percy was dating Nic’s most hated housemate: Penelope Clearwater.

From day one the two despised each other. They had a rivalry that, unlike Nic’s rivalry with Percy, started in the classroom and became less friendly over the years. No one knows what it was that started it. It might have been that time in Transfiguration class in first year when Nic corrected an answer Penelope gave Professor McGonagall, or in third year during their first visit to Hogsmeade when Penelope made fun of Nic’s sweater that resulted in Nic getting detention for using a spell to cut Penelope’s hair. From there the hatred for each other grew. Then fifth year Penelope was given the title of Prefect for Ravenclaw, and Nic was furious. She had worked herself to death in hopes of getting to be a prefect with Percy, but in the end she fell short to the one person she hated. And then over the summer, she learned her best friend was dating the person she hated.

She still wouldn’t admit she was jealous, though.

Nic sat at the table during breakfast, her friends sitting with her as they ate. They were discussing their schedules for next term, the final year. Except for Eliza, a fellow Ravenclaw and the closest person Nic had to an older sister in her house. Eliza was a seventh year and would be graduating at the end of term.

“Nic, what about you? Have you chosen your classes?” Eliza asked her, taking a spoonful of her cereal and eating it.

“Not yet,” Nic replied, stabbing her pancakes with her fork. “Normally Percy and I pick out classes together but…” she trailed off, not even entertaining the notion of finishing her thought.

Robert, a fellow Ravenclaw and a Prefect for the house, exchanged a look with their friend, Abby, who was from Hufflepuff. They all knew what this was about. But only Derek, one of the friends from Gryffindor, had the courage to speak up.

“Nic, don’t you think you might be um…” he looked over at their friends who sat shaking their heads at him, eyes wide. They knew what he was doing and he would be dead where he sat if he finished the question. “Jealous?”

Nic paused, looking up at Derek as Abby, Eliza, and Robert all shook their heads, Eliza letting her face fall into her palms.

“Jealous of...?” Nic asked.

Robert swallowed hard and chimed in. “Of Percy and Penelope’s relationship…” Her hand tightened on the fork she held and looked down at her plate. She stabbed the pancake as she spoke, not wanting her friends to see how her eyes started to water. Nic scoffed.

“Jealous? Of that toad faced, greasy haired bitch?” She started.

“Nic–”

“Why would I ever be jealous of her and Percy? My friendship with him is simply hitting a snag, is all–”

“Nic!”

“It doesn’t even matter that he hasn’t spoken to me nearly all year or studied with me at all, I’ve been passing my classes just f–”

“Nicole!” Eliza shouted.

“What?!” Nic snapped, looking up. She was surprised when she saw that her cup of milk along with the trays of food for breakfast were floating a foot off the table. Then again, Professor Flitwick was impressed with her ability to use non-verbal levitation charms naturally. She dropped the spell and stood from the table, grabbing her bag that was sat beside her. “I’m going to the library to study,” she grumbled to them.

Before any of the group could reply, Nic was already on her way out of the Great Hall.

She sat in the library, tucked into what used to be her and Percy’s studying spot. Most of fifth year they were found here when not in class or Percy wasn’t doing his rounds as prefect. They were never allowed to bring food into the library, but Nic always managed to sneak something from the kitchens which would earn her a lecture from Percy until she bribed him with the snack. Those days were nice, even if they didn’t talk much about anything other than class and their O.W.L.s.

She sat there, staring at the page of her Transfigurations textbook, trying to read the words. It seemed impossible as all she could think about was how much she missed Percy.

Nic heard some rushed footsteps that stopped near where she sat. When the footsteps started towards her, she was sure she knew who it was.

“Oh, Nicole, I thought I might find you here,” Percy said, walking up. He stopped by the desk she had her homework sprawled out on. “I need to talk to you.”

She flipped the page of her Transfigurations book, pretending to be reading. “You finally stopped snogging your girlfriend long enough to remember I exist, how lovely.”

“Excuse me?” He asked.

Nic closed her book and stood. “All year you’ve done nothing but hide with her in empty classrooms to make out. It’s like I don’t even exist to you.”

“That is not true,” Percy started, crossing his arms. “And that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here, Percy?”

“Penelope’s been petrified,” he said, barely able to get the words out. Nic finally realized how visibly upset he looked. It changed nothing for her, though.

“And?” She asked, rolling up her parchment.

“And? My girlfriend has been petrified and that’s all you can say?”

“I’m so sorry that I’m not heartbroken over the petrifaction of your girlfriend that’s made the last six years of my life a living hell.” Nic replied, sarcastically. She started to stuff the rolls of parchment into her bag.

“I expected you to at least have sympathy for your best friend who–”

Nic let out a bitter laugh, interrupting him. “Best friend? That’s rich for someone who’s been ignoring me all year.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you all year!” He protested.

“Oh my apologies,” she rolled her eyes. “I forgot, you say ‘hello’ to me in the corridors sometimes.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Nicole.” Percy hissed.

“And you’re being a horrible friend!” She replied. Nic did her best to keep herself from crying. “You don’t even know what classes I’m taking this year, or next year! And if you had bothered to read any of my letters over the summer you would’ve learned that Professor Dumbledore is teaching me Alchemy after dinner, and that I asked him if you could join too. But you never replied to my letter because you were probably too busy lip-locked with Penelope!”

Percy stood stunned for a moment. He had never seen her like this before. “Just because you’re jealous she was awarded to be a prefect and you weren’t doesn’t give you the right to act this way.”

“You’re kidding me, right? This isn’t about being a prefect! I don’t bloody care that she got it and I didn’t!”

“Then what’s this about?” Percy questioned, folding his arms over his chest.

“This is about you being a git!” She shouted, grabbing her bag and pushing passed Percy. He watched in shock and anger as she stomped away. A few students had looked over to see what the commotion was, but the crowd parted when they saw Nic walking towards them. She huffed as she left the library, wiping away the tears that started to fall.

As she rushed down the hallway, it dawned on her why she was so upset at not only Penelope but Percy as well. That fuzzy feeling she’s had in her chest since fourth year burned, the feeling she had been ignoring all this time. Her friends were right. She was jealous. She was jealous because she loved Percy.

Before she knew it, Nic was running down the corridor, ignoring the shouts of teachers telling her no running. Her feet took her up to Ravenclaw tower. She slammed the knocker and the painting spoke its riddle.

“What belongs to you but other people use it more than you?”

“Your name. Now let me in, please.” She begged, wiping away the tears.

The door opened and she rushed inside, running up to her dorm. She passed Robert and Eliza in the common room, and the two exchanged looks. Eliza ran upstairs after Nic and into the dorm.

Nic had thrown her bag across the room and threw her robe on the floor. Her glasses sat on the bedside table as she pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them. Her face was buried in her arms as she cried.

A hand was gently placed on her back. “Nic?” Eliza asked softly. Nic shook her head and didn’t respond. Eliza softly rubbed circles on Nic’s back to comfort her. “What’s wrong? Robert and I are worried.” Nic lifted up her head and wiped away her tears, sniffling as she looked at Eliza. Eliza gently brushed hair out of Nic’s face and tucked it behind her ear.

“I–I love Percy, but he–he loves Penelope,” Nic mumbled through tears.

“Oh, Nic,” Eliza whispered. She pulled Nic close and hugged her tightly, rubbing her back comfortingly. “I’m so sorry.”

“You guys were right. I am jealous of their relationship,” Nic choked out.

Eliza held her and did whatever she could to calm Nic down. After ten minutes, Nic finally calmed down. Eliza pulled Nic’s shoes off and put them on the floor next to the bed. She slowly pushed Nic down onto the bed.

“You should get some sleep, Nic. You tired yourself out with crying,” Eliza told her. She pulled the covers over Nic. Nic buried her face in the pillow and wiped away a tear.

“I don’t want to go to classes tomorrow,” Nic mumbled into the pillow.

“Worry about classes in the morning,” Eliza said.

Nic nodded and pulled the pillows closer as she slowly fell asleep. Eliza sighed and headed back downstairs to the common room.

[svankmajerbaby]

13, 20, 30, 40 !!

thank you so much for the ask!!!!!!

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished i’m not really sure, but i think i’d go something like this: i get the idea usually by either being obsessed with a property (whether it’s frankenstein, beetlejuice or barbie) or by thinking up characters and adding traits and backstory to them, and then thinking up possible dynamics for them to have with other characters. then, i try to figure out a particular context (place and time) that could fit these characters, and i make sure to think it up in such a way that it doesn’t really conflict with the source material (for my barbie-frankenstein fanfic, for example, i didn’t want to set it in early 19th century, because i wanted vivianna to be able to become barbara roberts at some point, and as such it was more comfortable to preserve the victorian aesthetic while also being closer to the 20th century); if there’s not a proper space and time these characters can feel comfortable in (whether because of a particularly tense political situation, persecution, or simply The Wrong Aesthetic Choice), i make up one. after that i begin to write dialogues and location descriptions, try to picture it all in my head as clearly as possible. then, after i have some scenes written and some interactions done, i try to organize them, thinking what should come first, what can lead to a good finale, what would be the most important moment for each character and so on. when this is done, i usually already figure out the ending and can structure everything to lead up to it. after that, it’s all a matter of sitting down and writing between the scenes i’ve already done, editing them and adding whatever new ideas i get in the meantime. usually this is what takes the longest, because by this point i’m losing steam and interest and become distracted by new projects... but sometimes i manage to finish it and by then the editing process starts on full, checking for any grammar or spelling mistakes, wrong pronouns or words or names, usually cutting down on redundant descriptions or dialogues, adding things if i think something is not clear enough or erasing things if they seem too on the nose, and then i do this over and over until i feel it’s good enough.

20.  How many WIPs and story ideas do you have? oh boy do i have plenty. i’ve sorta finished the first novel of the story of Olimpia Gómez -the first one is simply called “La Ejecutora, 1938″; i’m currently writing the second, the third and the fourth ones -”La Ejecutora, 1946″, “La Ejecutora, 1954″, and “La Ejecutora, 1966″ respectively. then i also have almost finished my stage adaptation version of “Corpse Bride”, which i renamed “Death and Marriage”. i’m a chapter away at finishing my toy story fanfic, “Sitting On The Shelf”. i’ve written a single chapter of a beetlejuice fanfic about the maitlands that i still haven’t found a proper name fore, but which i’m very excited about. i’m writing several chapters at once of a massive addams family fanfic, focused on most of the main family characters’ backstories or developments beyond the nineties movies, which i’m calling “Family Beyond Blood”. i’ve started a little princess tutu fanfic that i’m not sure if i should continue, but which is a stylistic deviation of what i’ve been writing so far, so that’s good. i’ve kind of abandoned another fanfic idea i had, “Vulnavia & Vulnavia”, from one of my favorite horror movies, “abominable dr phibes”, which i have to come back to... and like the madwoman i am, i’m planning on rewriting the star wars sequel trilogy, so i got that in my to do list, as well. besides those fanfics, i got a sci-fi novel being developed, called “Los Prototipos”, about two twins that escape the enclosure where they had been raised to find out they were being studied to make a single-minded working force (kind of like the replicants in blade runner) with an expiration date -all this set in a dystopic 1960s country somewhere in latinamerica, tackling issues of economic imperalism, forced labor and independece through revolution. this is one of my most political works, so i’m giving it a lot of space to breathe. i’ve also began some time ago a series of noir/horror short stories set in Buenos Aires, one of them based on a short movie script i’ve written, which i’m really excited to do -because i’m usually crap at writing short stories -but i’ve left it in standby until i finish the bigger projects first... and then I Have Scripts, Baby! “Mi Amiga Carolina”, about a possessed doll that emotionally manipulates a depressed teenager that moves alone into her grandmother’s old house; “El Moderno Prometeo”, a (mostly) faithful retelling of frankenstein set in Argentina, focused on the family drama of the frankenstein family and on the relationships between victor, daniela (justine, here being his older sister), quique (henry) and elsa (elizabeth); a screen adaptation of a novel of a friend of mine, “La Chica Que Trabajaba Los Sábados”, about a non-practising jewish woman in Buenos Aires who falls in love with a rabbi, and how their relationship ebbs and flows; and “Verano en los Manzanos”, about a boy who lives in rural Córdoba who falls in love with a girl from Buenos Aires (i try to write what i know, usually), and who as they grow up become a couple, have a kid, and ultimately wind up apart due to his struggle with depression and her own struggle with acute anxiety, all of this interweaved with his own return to the little forgotten village he grew up on, where he reflects on the life he used to have. so, in total... 16 WIP. plenty.

30.  Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet i just now realized that i forgot to mention it in the last point, but technically i havent’ even started, so yeah, it’s just an idea: a series of sci-fi books about a parallel history in which India was the first country to go to the moon, and in which South America has the ASADE (Asociação Sul-Americana D’exploração Espacial), where they train cosmonauts to explore the vastness of space: set in an alternate 1930, a team of specialists on several fields and from several countries (the ones I got thought up already are captain Alfonsina Shua, from argentina, and copilot Adolfo Chaviano, from a paraguayan-argentinean couple) go on the fifth ever tripulated voyage. on an exploration, copilot Chaviano gets lost and disappears in space, cut off from his crew, and ends up going through a wormhole and crossing a threshold between sci-fi and fantasy of a blooming star -rendering him immortal but extremely radiated, which allows him to continue exploring space (ending up in several planets, registering his encounters with varied extraterrestrial cultures) while back in Earth the ASADE and his family try to locate him and bring him back home -it’s basically “The Martian” meets “The Little Prince”. and then, there’s the sequel series, about the three grandchildren of Adolfo Chaviano, who, after his death, discover that their grandfather had been developing a time machine alongside Alfonsina to go back in time and look for a way to revert the effects of the radiation in him, in order for him to live longer -and, perhaps, to find the way to become immortal and continue exploring the deepest limits of space. set in an alternate 1971, where space travel is now commonplace, the three siblings, Lena, Majo and Laucha embark on a space mission, meeting all sorts of new characters similarly affected by radiation and some mysterious magical/space properties, in order to find Alfonsina and ask her to give them one more chance to ask questions and say goodbye to their grandfather. so yeah, i got a lot of ideas, but i haven’t been writing any scenes yet -it’s still all in my head so far.

40.  Share some backstory for one of your characters well, the original character i’ve got developed the most is Olimpia Gómez (whose birth name is Beatriz Moreno), the orphaned daughter of two spanish union workers who were killed in the Semana Trágica on 1919 by the mysterious Society (of course, working in cahoots with the repressive government), and taken in by that same Society and raised to kill supposed “criminals and dangerous subjects”. trained in the countryside, taught to always be ready to die an honorable death for peace and justice while on duty, she’s taken to Buenos Aires to prove herself by stealth-killing the targets she is given, who she is told are people beyond salvation. she’s never been popular, but her closest friend, Eugenia Menéndez, always tries to get her to open up and join her own attempts at having a normal social life -which is quite difficult when being a spy and “executioner”. Olimpia has a boyfriend, fellow agent Evaristo Gutiérrez, but by the time they’re nineteen their relationship feels cold and strained, and at the same time there’s the pull of one of the most powerful members of the organization, Azucena Velázquez, daughter of two high-ranking agents: she’s kind-of out as a lesbian (only able to be so because of her high status), and has always been interested in Olimpia; Olimpia has to wrestle with her own internalized homophobia, feelings of guilt and bisexuality in order to finally decide who she wants to be, alongside her discovery of precisely how the Society is corrupt and extremely politically motivated when electing its “targets”, which leads Olimpia to try to escape it -despite knowing that the Society is everywhere, and if she can manage to escape, it’s because the Society allows it in the first place.

[galaxy-parchment]

Vampire AU

1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6  : 7 : 8 : 9 : 10 (you are here) : 11 : 12 : 13 : 14 : 15 (coming soon)

Woops guess who forgot to link chapter 9 to all the other chapters. I hope the sheer length of this mostly explains why it took a while to write mostly because of the whole trying not to directly plagiarise the comic but also I’ve been really busy with thankfully good things like weddings and birthdays and award ceremonies and all that fun stuff.

Of all the things Lanyon expected while he was checking on why nobody had shown up the Bethnal Green for the cleanup, Henry being covered in blood and losing control of everyone in the building wasn’t in his list of possibilities. Thankfully Henry didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain but rather was staring at the chaos of lodgers running up the main staircase.

His shirt was completely covered in blood and not going out to feed since the Moreau incident certainly wasn’t helping that annoyingly ravenous feeling he was getting in the back of his mind. God, he really should have gone out yesterday. He took his mind off of it by instead looking at Henry’s face, which had much less blood on it and turned to the ground with a very worried look etched into his features.

“Henry?”

“What?” his head perked up, drawing him out of whatever thought he was lost to, he turned and noticed who it was, “Robert! What are you doing here? I thought you were helping out in Bethnal Green today?”

“I was, but the lodgers that were supposed to be helping out today never showed up, also you’re bleeding” Robert said, carefully avoiding looking down and doing anything out of turn.

Henry quickly glanced down at himself and met Robert’s eyes just as quickly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my blood” despite the apparent reassurance Robert was getting, Henry still looked quite nervous.

“Is… is that meant to make me less worried? Have you been getting enough sleep?” he reached up and felt Henry’s forehead, which was cold rather than feverishly hot like he’d expected it to be.

Henry glanced up at the hand on his head with a look of panic. He quickly pulled his hand down and laughed nervously “I’m fine, Robert, just a little off schedule but I have it under control!” a knife suddenly appeared under Henry’s chin.

“Doctor Jaaaaaay…” came the calm voice of Rachel from Henry’s right hand side “Where is Master Hyde?” she yelled abruptly. Robert was lost as Rachel bickered with Henry but struggled his way back to listening to avoid looking down at the blood that was soaked into Henry’s vest. The first word he caught was ‘Hyde’ and his eyes widened in alarm.

“What’s all this about Mr Hyde? You’re not still in contact with that scoundrel are you?” he interrogated. He quickly found himself bombarding Henry with questions about that criminal. Why on earth would he still be on speaking terms with Hyde? He was not only a criminal but he’d been outed as a vampire. As much as it pained him to say, he hoped that Henry would be reasonable enough to stay far away from affairs with vampires if he could help it. He hoped there wasn’t any foul play in all of this.

A small metallic beetle suddenly zoomed into the room and halted in front of Henry, surprising all three of them as it blurted out a robotic voice that Robert just made out to be “Transmission for Dr Henry Jekyll”

Before Robert and Rachel could process what was happening Henry was suddenly out the door and off to find the lodgers that he explained were out in Survey. Robert and Rachel simply stared for a moment before the former uttered “What just happened?”. 

Robert decided he may just have to take matters into his own hands.

-

Jekyll rushed to his room to get the bloodstained clothes off of him as soon as possible and tossed them into a bag and away from his sight. He touched a finger to his teeth to check them. Thankfully, most likely because he’d fed last night, his fangs were barely longer than usual and Jekyll took the blessing in stride. Now he had to keep himself covered for the trip to find Bryson and his crew.

He took out a top hat with a wider brim than most, flipped his collar up despite how unflattering it was to his jawline, picked up a parasol and put on gloves so that he only needed to cover his face while he was out to avoid suspicion.

He spotted the balloon a mile off and walked as fast as a gentlemanly stroll would allow him, careful to keep to the edges of the path where it was shadier. Eventually he made it to the crash site and grimaced at the ladder leading up to where the group was waiting. To his annoyance, Helsby was waving for him up to climb the ladder, so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Jekyll huffed, closed and tucked his umbrella under his elbow and looked down and awkwardly climbed the ladder, nearly burning himself on a spot of sunlight on his way up. He clambered up onto the elevated ground that the balloon was resting in and tidied himself up before looking to the men and giant octopus in the basket.

“So what have you been up to on this fine adventure, gentlemen?”

Bryson looked into the distance dramatically and went on a convoluted tangent about how dangerous and mysterious their latest ‘journey through the cosmos’ was. After a few minutes of monologuing Jekyll grew bored and clasped his hands together cheerfully.

“I see! So what you’re saying is you got lost!”

“If you must put it into unscientific terms,” Bryson deadpanned.

“Not to worry, I’ll have a team out here to extricate your dirigible as soon as they’ve extricated themselves from Frankenstein’s clutches”

Bryson’s eyes widened, “Frankenstein’s awake? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”, neither he nor Helsby wasted a moment climbing out of the basket and sprinting back down the path Jekyll had just traversed, the accompanying octopus monster dragging itself along in tow at an alarming pace.

Jekyll stared defeatedly as the last of the lodgers were swept up in Frankenstein’s spell. Somewhere in the back of his mind Hyde stirred. Jekyll could feel the smug grin on him from whatever shadow he lurked in.

“Oh, poor Henry! After all you’ve done for the lodgers they abandon you for some clown with a famous name! I guess no matter how hard you try to hide all of those ghastly vampiric tendencies, the can still see how much of a monster you are, fangs or no!” he cackled, revealing himself in the shade of the nearest tree. Jekyll climbed back down the ladder as he spoke and reopened the umbrella, taking his time in making his way back.

“Why can’t you just stop existing for a week? You don’t normally hang around while I’m in control, what makes this different? You’ve already been to Blackfog for a night, as agreed.”

Hyde let out a growl of anger, “What? So you can just stop worrying about me forever? How convenient for you to just let me disappear forever!”

“You know that’s not true!”

“Right, because who else is going to do the sloppy murder you need to do to stay alive? Face it, Henry, if we weren’t a vampire then you’d probably have tried to get rid of me ages ago!” Hyde fumed, his shadowy form becoming less defined, “and for the record, you’re lucky that bartender knows not to mess with a vampire, that was by far the shoddiest luring I’ve ever seen and you’re lucky you found some depressed bastard that was probably baiting himself to get killed”

“I really don’t need to deal with this right now,” Jekyll groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose and eager to avoid talking about last night, “if you’re going to hang around, you could at least help me get a handle on this Frankenstein problem.”

“Go to hell, traitor!”

“Don’t be like that! Frankenstein is our childhood idol, I need a way to win her over, but I can’t do that so long as she has this stubborn idea that I’m some kind of imposter scientist.”

“She’s not too far off, when was the last time you actually did any experiments? These days you’re just worried about making sure nobody figures out you got turned so that you can get them to throw money at your beloved Society.”

Jekyll looked up in realisation, “Huh… I think you might be onto something… I’ve been so caught up in keeping the Society afloat and focusing on hiding all of my secrets that I haven’t had time to follow my own scientific pursuits! Sure I’ve occasionally tried to make a cure but never anything I could be open about, of course Frankenstein would think I’m a fake!”

A confused look formed on Hyde’s face, “Uh- yes she… why are you agreeing with me? Where is this going?”

Before Hyde knew what was happening, Jekyll started out on a tangent about everything he remembered about alchemy and the various plants surrounding them and was adamant that he’d found just what he needed. Much to Hyde’s chagrin his insistence that Jekyll was simply blabbering and had no hope of ever winning over Frankenstein were ignored in favour of Jekyll returning to his enthusiastically wild scientific endeavours and explaining his plan all the way home until eventually he had to shut up to avoid suspicion from the sudden presence of other people who wouldn't take well to listening to Jekyll talking to thin air about the tiny flowers he had clasped in his hand.

[srebrnafh]

Excerpts from the novel - 4

Another piece, from a challenge on “long words”.

In Her Highness’s room the fireplace was roaring, which was a rare thing. Maybe it wasn’t really needed, as such, but it was nice to sit in front of it on the oversized cushions and listen to the others talking, soft and mellow.

“Wine?”

I must have floated away, watching the flames, as I hadn’t even noticed Robert approaching me with a glass in his hand.

We clinked the glasses in silence.

“So how does it feel, turning twenty-five?”

“Just the same as yesterday, but a day more. I don’t know. I don’t see any significant threshold or dramatic change. You should know yourself, you’ve already done it a few years back.”

“Indeed I did, but I thought that maybe it’s different for princes,” I kissed him. “So? Compared to last year?”

“Mmm. Not sure. Not precisely, but there is something, at the back of my head, but I can’t pin that feeling down. It has some relationship to, well, to comfort, to peace…”

“You grew up.”

“I fell in love.”

We almost managed to spill the wine, as we forgot we were holding the glasses.

“Children.”

Her Highness was watching us with a slight reproach, but it wasn’t a scolding. She glanced at her watch, and then outside.

“Robert, come here, sit in front of the fire.”

“Mother…”

“Sit down. It just might be the last syllable, so you should focus.”

“But…”

He glanced at me, somewhat unsure.

“Irene should know. You weren’t going to just hide this from her?”

“I’m not sure what the two of you are talking about…”

“Sit down, Robert. It is a tradition, back where I come from. Hard to say if it’s a real actual tradition, or something someone thought up and then added a legend to it. A young heir of the clan, so in the case if a witch family, the eldest daughter, or in case of a warrior family, the son, gets an everyday name, like everyone else, which they are baptised with, and one syllable of their final big true name. I was the youngest of seven sisters, but since my mother was sure we were all gifted, we all got our syllables. And so, we had to live with that ever since. My name came up to seventeen syllables. Robert…” she patted her son’s curls and he moved away with a huff, “Robert has twenty five, and so it’s time for the spell that will give us the next one, and maybe tell us it is the last of the set. Rob, sit up straight.”

“I am!”

“You’re slouching.”

“Mother.”

She stood behind him and put both hands on his head. I watched as he furrowed his brow - in anxiety? In pain?

I couldn’t discern it directly, since the intensity of power was only visible at high volumes, and mostly when hitting shields, and Robert was not resisting… But it was obvious that the princess was pouring a significant amount of power into him.

His cheek twitched, and I didn’t know if it was because of the heat blasting from the fireplace or from the flow of power, but it seemed as if he was trying to shut his eyes, but he couldn’t, as if…

…as if something was holding him.

[bak]

It wasn’t Robert’s voice. Or the princess’s. It was something else, something alien, something with additional harmonics that caused my own Fields to react suddenly. For the first time in ages.

They both dropped back, the princess to her chair and Robert to the cushions spread in front of the fireplace.

“’Bak’?”

“Spelled ‘baic’.”

“And what does that mean?” I sat closer and Robert laid his cheek on my knee, breathing deeply, as if after a long run.

“Back, but mostly in the meaning of the nape of one’s neck. So the point of contact for the Fields.”

I rubbed that point, feeling Robert relax slightly under my touch.

“And what’s the conclusion?”

“A reference to magic. So, probably, to the fact that Robert has finally got his Charm. And that it’s not the final syllable yet.”

“But what…”

Robert straightened and started to fix his shirt collar, grimacing slightly.

“It means that the family magic tells us that something interesting, that will define me as a man, can still happen over the next year. Lovely. Just what I needed.”

“Robert!”

“You said it yourself. The syllables keep coming, as long as one keeps maturing. I’m not sure I’m happy that magic says I’m not an adult yet!”

[wildflowerwattpad0217]

Clary Fray Gets Married. (My First Story On Wattpad) My Reaction After 3 Years.

So This story is going to be deleted from Wattpad on 12/18/2020. Due to how messy the story is. But I don’t reccomend reading it. So if you want to read the mess before then here is the link:

Clary Fray Gets Married

Masterlist

One paragraph is a single chapter

So Maia just got killed and Sebastian is back. That's a cheesy line. How would they be able to invite you to the wedding if they thought you were dead. Not that they would anyway. Clary is sacrificing herself for everyone. All these misspellings though, well it was my first story on here and I never edited it and I wrote it on my phone. That was short af. Well my original word count was 500 but later in the story I am pretty sure I switched it to my current 2000.

The incest plotline though, *throws up* I was trying to continue the idea of Sebastian thinking that the bloodline had to be pure. And Clary's pregnant. Jace's pov, the language was the worst in this story. Clary pov. Sebastian wants to make another demon child. Trama. Sebastian is a vampire but a new breed. Mark of Cain?

So we are starting this chapter with Trama warnings. Jace is blood thirsty and I don't blame him. This is the cringest this I've ever written and that's saying a lot. Clary made a run to hurt him. It can't be that easy.

Sebastian told Jace that was pregnant. Jace just cut of his head and he's still alive? These 500 word chapter get annoying fast.

Threatening Alec for Magnus to put up wards. That's one way to do it ig. You want the Infernal Cup too? Now he only wants Jace and Clary there.

Not much happened in this chapter but Sebastian raided Clary's closet from the Insitute.

A protective Jocelyn tho. This language is not how I would write this today.

It's like every other word is F*ck. This is so cringey. This is supposed to be first person pov not whatever you wanna call that. So much flopping back and forth between povs and I didn't make the pov change very noticeable either.

Really you're taking his head off again? Well it gave you time to get away ig.

This conversation feels forced. It doesn't flow right.

Clary is insisting on getting married before Sebastian can screw it up any more.

Magnus calling Simon by his actual name??? How did Jace just pop up like that?

What the hell was going on it that small pov with Sebastian and Lilith? "...revealing his father in a new form." Valentine? Wtf? Yeah it is Valentine and he hates what his son did.

Jace and Clary are finally getting married.

Valentine it pissed at Sebastian. Clary thinks it's halirious that he's a downworlder now. Karma is a bitch. Clary really just stabbed him in throat after he offered to help you kill your brother and Lilith?

Now why is Sebastian so worked up over a missing necklace? And Jocelyn just found out about Valentine and she shookth.

Jace has a half sister? And Luke has a niece? I don't remember this plotline but this story was all over the place.

Who is Lilith gonna bring back now? Carmen Herondale, Jace's sister.

Sebastian and Carmen reunited.

Sebastian never wanted this for Carmen? She's made at him but not for the reason you think. He was going to propose to her the night she was killed? Valentine is the reason she's dead? Clary just killed him.

Carmen is a murderer? And she got away.

I didn't even realize Simon didn't go.

Carmen you touch Alex or Max I will kill you.

He gave her the wrong spell thankfully.

Tessa is dead? The author's note was not it.

Even in a shitty fanfic Max is adorable.

Carmen's adoptive mundane father was a gang leader in Paris? What kind of crack was I smoking while writing this?

Simon compared her to Assassin's Creed. Why did Clary just pass out?

So the kid is basically going to be a full blown angel. Interesting. And the last thing she remembers is taking the pregnancy test?

That is some Twilight shit right there.

Aww Alec wants to propose to Magnus.

Her pregnancy is getting intense.

That line is so cringey wtf. Sebastian is back?

So I kinda remember the person who originally raised Lilith but tbh I regret writing Carmen's charcther because the next few chapter don't make any sense.

Clary's eyes changed colors. I really don't remember writing half of this because I was going through some stuff at the time.

The unnecessary pov switch tho. Clary just made a new Rune.

Magnus may have found a way to make Shadowhunters immortal?

Why would you try a rune on a trash can?

So everyone one agreed to going immortal. That would suck. And there was a rune made with the oil based paint Clary used. This is confusing af. I am sorry to anyone who has ever read this.

Max calls Clary, Aunt Clary. Wtf does he have to be so cute?

More Max being adorable.

Alec and Magnus are engaged. This makes me happy. Sebastian projected himself into the Insitute?

New Character is introduced: Emily Starkweather. Hodge's daughter and Lydia Blackwell's half sister and she hates her.

I made Lydia Blackwell very homophobic because I made Emily bi sexual and that's why they hate each other. Emily is traitor. Sebastian loves her? And is cheating on Carmen with her. This is very confusing. Emily is gonna teach Izzy how to cook.

Raphael got her addicted to Yin Fen. I really mixed The show and the book together. This bitch is lying her ass off to them.

Sebastian and Emily are planning to get rid of Carmen.

She's planning on killing so many people and pinning it on them.

Emily has some Trama TM

She is going to kill her mother.

Lowkey think Jace is getting sus of her. Carmen is dead.

They just found out she's a traitor.

Joyce, Luke, Myrse and Robert are all dead wtf and the baby is coming.

Emily has a good reason to trust Sebastian tho. He did save her life.

Lilith thought she was dead? Who do u think rose you from Edom?

They don't know Carmen id dead yet? Alec ripped into Lydia. Compared her to Valentine. Big ope. Emily is the 3rd Angel experiment.

Emily and Sebastian  are planning on kidnapping Lydia. Emily's angel blood is Lucifer's wtf? Emily called her sister a Stupid Ass Bitch and I'm living for it. And she's been kidnapped.

Sebastian just turned her? Ew. The left-handed joke. They summoned Lucifer for some reason.

Emily is absolutely crazy.

So she did kill her mother... I didn't make that very clear. Jace and Alec want them to make Amends so that she doesn't murder Shadowhunters. Sweetie I think it's far too late for that. Lydia is officially dead. How could she be preggers if she's a vampire? And now her mother is still alive? Jocelyn, Luke, Maryse and Robert are alive still too? Emily's mom admitted to everything. I also started going to 2000 word chapters.

Lilith is acting like a bitch, kinda. They are attacking the clave. Lilith summoned a shit ton of demons. The end of the chapter is kinda intense tho.

Raphael? Wtf are you doing here? Hodge?  They are testing by mortal sword. This is kinda confusing. Why was this the most read story on my wattpad before Avenging Riverdale?

Flashback scene to when they first met.

Then there was a short chapter. About a prochey

Time skip. The baby is coming. A blue and a black eye? Sebastian's eyes flickered green? Magnus wants to figure how to bring out the Johnathan in him.

Emily plans on making Sebastian stays Sebastian.

That was a shitty chapter.

And I forgot I discountinted it... Sorry about that.

Overall I am happy I discountinted you. It is a horrible book and I am embarrassed by it to be honest. This is my first book on wattpad so I think it's pretty normal but it wasn't my first piece of fanfic. My first work was on Fanfic.net but has since been deleted by the website. I don't know why it wasn't bad at all it was more fluff than anything. But I have decided that I am going to post this and then I'm going to take down the story in a month. I failed to put trigger warnings, failed to edit (to be fair that was back when I did all of my writing on my phone before I had am actual laptop). But I did have some good ideas when it came to the traitor part and Sebastian finding love and I deem this story on crack. So my final rating is a 2/10.

[time-qxeen]

tag twenty-one people you’d like to know better some questions may be ‘ ??? ’ instead of answered

01.    nickname: Nat 02.    real name: All my online friends call me Nat. Except like... two people. 04.    height: 5′8″ 05.    what time is it: 10:50pm. 06.    favorite musicians/groups: My Chemical Romance, Foo Fighters, Green Day, Papa Roach, Billie Eilish and Ed Sheeran. (Those last two sort of break the rock pattern, I know.) 07.    favorite sports team:  I have exactly zero interest in sports. 08.    other blogs: legendsofwholock is my main, and tfw-adhd is my adhd blog!

9.    do i get asks?:  Sometimes! Not very often, though.

10.    how many blogs do i follow?:  ...612. I have a problem. 11.    any tumblr crushes: Totally. 12.    lucky number: 11 13.    what am i wearing right now?: Leopard print shorts and a strappy pajama top. It’s 28 degrees. I’m dying. 14.    dream vacation: Man... Somewhere cold. And I like caravan parks. 15.    dream car:  One that can be driven. 16.    favorite food: If you mean a meal, then it’s toad in the hole. If you mean a singular item of food, then chicken nuggets. If you mean favourite thing to just pick up and eat, then pringles. 17.    drink of choice: Soft drink? Pepsi Max. Alcoholic drink? Raspberry gin. 18.    languages: English, and at one point I was learning BSL. I can barely remember it now, though. Same goes for French. 19.    instruments: Used to play piano and ukulele. I have no memory of the chords for either, and my limit is now playing the opening to The Black Parade. 20.    celebrity crushes: Oh, so many. Michelle Gomez, David Tennant, Jodie Whittaker, Tom Hiddleston, Jodie Comer, Robert Carlyle (I blame Kylie for my recent obsession with him), Ruby Rose... 21.    random fact: Hm. Can’t think of one. I’m not interesting, I suppose. Although, I did recently change the spelling of my real, actual name, which confused some people, and made some people think that they’d just been spelling it wrong this whole time. That was fun. (But considering that I didn’t actually write my real name here, that won’t mean much to you guys XD)

Tagged by @darkerdeariegold (LITERALLY TWO MONTHS AGO. AND THEN I CLICKED LIKE BECAUSE I WANTED TO DO IT BUT I FORGOT UNTIL JUST NOW SO THANKS FOR THE TAG IF YOU ACTUALLY REMEMBER TAGGING ME IN THIS AHFJKAKG)

Tagging: @idontdosecondchances @godsmuses @magaprima @ooswcld @theiracademydaysareover @asterobellis @beyondthetardis @mostincrediblechange @heartonanoose

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @alecisgay!

I am absolutely not a Fluff writer so this prompt was a challenge for me. But in the end I even had fun writing it. I've never written soulmate aus before either so I hope I did okay. I hope you'll enjoy this gift and that you spend your holidays with happy feelings and care!

Read on AO3

*****

Of spilled Coffees and Revealed Marks

Begrudgingly he looked over the report again. It wasn't as if he didn't know the whole agenda already, he just needed to be sure. To say he was stressed was a wrong use of words. He wasn't peculiarly stressed or even anxious. 'Uneasy' or 'discomforted' were more suitable words. He swiped his finger on the holopad. The cruel lack of allies was staring back at him under the form of a list of attendees. At least when Raphael was still the representative of the Night Children, Magnus knew meetings wouldn't be derailed easily. He didn't know who this Simon Lewis was and the way Tessa and Catarina had played it out he was still quite the fledgeling. Neither did he know who Maia Roberts was.

He knew he had been away from New York over fifty years now and things had changed ridiculously over short spans of time. Signing the newly established accords felt like only yesterday, an ordeal that had put down the wars between the Nephilim and Downworlders after Valentine Morgenstern's extermination. But here he was, on behalf of the Warlock council of New York, disclosing new accords that wouldn't only give more territorial rights to everyone but also rights to vote for clave representatives in Idris. Things were changing at a fast pace and Magnus didn't know how to feel about it.

Elation ? Relief ? Pride ? How long would it take for the Nephilims to change their minds and come back on their promises ? Which they had done so very often in the past. Their own interpretations of the 'laws' and 'accords' had cost many innocent lives only a year ago in the London suburbs. It had taken Magnus months to appease the tensions between the werewolf packs and shadowhunters who didn't want to stay in their lane. It was all easier if everyone stopped wanting to be superior toward each other. Alliances were a necessary evil when it was about co-existing as different species on the same soil.

He played around with his now empty martini glass. He still had the feeling he wasn't awake enough for this. Hopefully the meeting would be over as soon as possible and he could go back to London. Fleeing New York, trying to heal his broken heart, still felt like a sore thorn in his side. He disliked being here, disliked dealing with Nephilims, disliked needing to step in because the Spiral Labyrinth needed updated wards and he absolutely disliked the food around here.

He sighed, scrolling back through the agenda points. He stopped in his tracks. A ping echoed and a new name flashed on the attendee list.

'Inquisitor Alexander Lightwood'

He raised an eyebrow. Tessa had said there wouldn't normally be any high officials joining the meeting, but it looked like she'd been wrong. He sighed again. He hadn't dealt well with the last inquisitor he had met. Imogen Herondale hadn't been the most courteous woman, especially since she had lobbied to destitute the Warlock council of their privileges to meet for the winter solstice. The celebration required a large gathering of both mundanes and other Downworlders to complete a cleansing ritual. She had seen reason after a few weeks of negotiations and a promise of memory spells being cast upon the mundanes. It had been tedious.

Hopefully Alexander Lightwood wasn't as stubborn and would sway more in favour than against possible changes in the accords.

He made the holopad vanish with a snap of his fingers. He finished readying himself, choosing a more red and black colour palette of clothing, and leaving his hair like it was. There was no need for colour as long as he left his ears pierced with gold. Once his 'armour' was well set in place he opened a portal on the scheduled time.

He killed the feeling of dread that rose up and stepped inside.

There wasn't really a welcoming committee. It was an empty hallway that had a few shadowhunters guarding it. It looked very different from the Cathedral the nephilim used in England. It was smaller, but somewhat cozier. The wood next to the stone gave a contrast Magnus wouldn't have guessed to ever like. But he wasn't entirely swayed even if the renaissance paintings and the stained glass livened up the place. The oppression of the Angelic runes was omnipresent. The wards of the institute were strong and their magic was overwhelming. Magnus felt cornered. Even if Tessa's familiar magic rested upon the walls, he couldn't ignore how every single camera seemed to scrutinize him, scan him. The two guarding shadowhunters made their way to him.

"High Warlock Magnus Bane ?" Magnus squinted, surprised by the friendly tone of voice the shadowhunter was using. This was very different from the usual treatment he got. Perhaps change was indeed on its way.

"In the flesh," he said. The two shadowhunters nodded toward each other and invited him to follow them. He recognized Isabelle Lightwood from the description Catarina had given him. She was standing further away, talking with a seelie representative and someone else. Upon seeing him approach she ended the conversation she was having.

"Welcome to the New York institute. I'm Isabelle Lightwood." Her smile felt so natural, Magnus felt himself get momentarily disarmed. He had known her ancestors back when the Lightwoods were still present in London. Even if they had been good people, they were nowhere near Isabelle's open attitude. He shook her hand.

"Magnus Bane, thank you for allowing me to fill in for Tessa the upcoming weeks, our glamour wards needed an urgent recasting since that mundane plane accident almost made them drop." There was something about her that made him want to talk. She didn't look like the the type of shadowhunter to dismiss and make a comment about incompetence when it was about warlocks needing help.

"All the pleasure is mine, Catarina has said a lot of good things about you, I'm glad I can welcome you in my institute. Although it is smaller than the one from London, I hope you will find yourself at ease. We wouldn't be able to get things done without you." Magnus returned her smile he was about to speak again but they were interrupted by the small cough coming from the man standing next to her.

He was tall, his frame trapped in a simple dark blue suit with a black shirt, his gaze was reserved but confident. Magnus didn't understand how he hadn't noticed the man right next to the head of the institute. The way a rune framed his neck to hide underneath the collar of a shirt that had the two top buttons undone, the way his black hair framed his face, a bit wild, enticing to be played with… Magnus felt himself take an involuntary step forward.

'And who are you ?'

"This is my brother, Alec Lightwood. Inquisitor and clave consul from Idris. He will be joining us today. " Isabelle seemed amused but Magnus refused to look away. The way the inquisitor moved in short but calculated movements… the way they were fluid and strong. This man felt… strangely safe, reliable. He blinked a few times. Not really certain if his heart could follow what was happening in his head.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, High Warlock Bane." Magnus felt entranced, the deep drawl made a tense feeling curl up inside of his gut as he stared a bit too long at the extended hand in front of him. Long fingers of a calloused hand that had seen battles and a strong wrist neatly decorated by cuff-links momentarily side-tracked his mind.

He clasped the offered hand, feeling the warmth of the man's hand enclosing his. His heart involuntarily fluttered. Magnus' breath had been knocked out of him and he almost forgot to talk.

"All the pleasure is mine, I saw your name appear on the list earlier this evening." His mind swam and his whole body was just… tense. There was something, something indescribable. Something he couldn't pin-point. He let the hand go. He let his eyes roam over the inquisitor again. His mind clicked in place, understanding he wouldn't mind asking the man out for dinner.

"Yes, Isabelle thought it would be beneficial if I were to oversee the meeting today." The intense hazel eyes stared back at Magnus and the High Warlock couldn't help but smirk. He knew this look, the look of interest, the look of desire with a tinge of arousal, the look of mutual attraction.

"I must say that the very stern name doesn't live up to the charming face I see before me." Magnus instantly took a step backwards when instead of a blush or a well constructed quip Magnus' compliment was met with a scowl. The whole posture of Alexander Lightwood shifted into a defensive stance that made Magnus wonder if the man was planning on attacking him.

"We all have names with history and faces around here, Mr. Bane. But trivial matters aside I so do hope I can count on your complete cooperation and focused attention during this meeting. We will be discussing laws and proposals of primordial importance that will decide the future of the Downworld's society." Magnus knew how to stand his ground, and regardless of the inquisitor's almost unwavering tone, Magnus knew how to read between the lines.

"Oh flirt-lines a bit of a touchy subject with you, Mr. Lightwood ?" He bit back, he shouldn't have but the look on Lightwood's face was worth it. It was a complete stupefied expression that would have made Magnus smile if he just hadn't been dismissed as unprofessional. Because that was something that got on his nerve. How dare he ?

"My apologies, of course the fate of my people comes before any pleasantries and quips. You'll see me completely focused for the next upcoming weeks. No fear." He clenched his jaw, daring the inquisitor to make any other remark. It didn't come and right when either him or Lightwood was about to say something, an arm circled his and he was dragged away by Isabelle.

She said something about guiding him toward his seat. He didn't hear her correctly. His gut had twisted unpleasantly and it downed on him pretty late how Alexander Lightwood had gone from a charming face to a dismissive typical Nephilim in the space of a few seconds. The man had gotten under his skin and it wasn't even midnight yet. He inhaled, trying to concentrate on his steps. Let his energy flow to the ground. When they arrived at the table he already felt less on edge.

"Charming brother you have there," he said. He unlocked his arm from Isabelle, glancing toward the inquisitor who hadn't moved one inch from where he stood… Brooding ? A deep frown was creasing his brow. Magnus dismissed the need to soothe it.

"Oh, Alec is really not used to being flirted with." She sounded amused, which made Magnus turn toward her. She was even grinning. "A tip, if you want to approach him again, try to be less direct. My brother tends to close off immediately when he is feeling threatened." He wanted to retort something but he found himself unable to and she noticed. She noticed and even winked at him.

"Let him come to you, that's the way into his heart." He pursed his lips together, trying to tell her she was getting the wrong idea. But as he glanced back again at the inquisitor from afar who greeted another representative, he could feel himself being sucked back into contemplation. The 'thank you' he muttered through his teeth was almost inaudible.

She left him there as he took his seat. More holopads were handed out and twenty minutes later people gathered around the table. The inquisitor started the meeting with thanking them all. Thanking every one of them to come on such short notice to polish some of the proposals. His charisma was undeniably present, his posture was inviting him to listen to him and his ideas. He went over the agenda points one by one and Magnus realized it didn't cost him any effort to just listen. The deep drawl was focused and leading. Alexander Lightwood was patient and preventively stepped in when things were getting more heated.

And just like that Magnus started to feel at ease. Tension and worries seeped away to become a well-put professional demeanor. People around the table were here to negotiate and Magnus felt that his ideas were listened to. Things were alright. Even if the new Alpha of the werewolf pack of New York was a bit out of sorts she knew how to be argumentative. In a year or two she would make a fierce leader, Magnus was sure of it. Scott would have liked her, had he still been alive.

They were shortly interrupted. The young vampire showing himself was none other than Simon Lewis who apologised profusely for being late. A problem at the DuMort Hotel had occurred under the form of a dispute between two vampire families that had needed resolving. He approached the extensively long table . Lily Chen who had filled in for him made space for him to sit. Magnus saw it happen before the others did. The way where Simon Lewis then by accident bumped into the inquisitor's elbow as the man brought a fresh mug of coffee to his lips.

The pain was scorching, made him jump upright.

"Oh shit I'm sorry…" The vampire apologized.

He clutched his arm, but there was not a scratch to be seen. It hurt and burned and when he raised his sleeve to check his sudden injury there was nothing. His froze. His eyes laid down on the other man who had raised himself at the same time as him at the other side of the table.

Oh.

He could feel his heart hammer in his chest. His whole body tingled with every possible rush of adrenaline. He felt his blood go from intense warmth to icy cold in the span of a second as his eyes laid themselves upon the inquisitor who was quickly undoing the coffee soaked sleeve of his shirt to check the damage.

Oh.

It didn't look like severe damage was done and the inquisitor was quickly given a tissue to soak up whatever remained in the sleeve. Alexander looked up at him and they stared at each other and it was as if time froze. Everything just got tuned out as silence reigned between them.

His new soulmate was a Nephilim.

"Is everything alright Inquisitor ?" The question was left unanswered. Both of their fingers rubbed against their respective skins as if to minimize the hurt. Hazel eyes were looking at him as if he was coming from another dimension. As if Magnus had either punched him in the face or woken him up by throwing him to the wolves.

Magnus sucked in a breath, not yet ready to face the realization that downed upon him. Not yet ready but able to look away. So he did, he tore his gaze away and laid his hands on the table for balance, for grounding, trying to desperately refrain himself from either running toward the man or to fleeing the premises. His head swam, his mind sinking into both panic and euphoria.

Their eyes met again. The burning sensation of coffee still seeped through his arm and left an increasingly big red mark on his arm.

"I-" Alexander tried. His voice was low and broken, not living up to what Magnus could read on his facial expression.

And Magnus couldn't talk, his whole throat locked up. From underneath his skin his magic tried to reach out to Alexander Lightwood. It sung a thousand tunes of joy and rejoice, wanting to be close to his unveiled soulmate. He felt everything spiral. The taste of coffee coated his mouth as his body synced with the other man. He felt the angelic magic draw unseen patterns of runes on his arms, his neck, his chest. He felt everything Alexander felt as his senses attuned to the sour and dry smell of burnt-in runes. The lingering pain they could bring, but also their unimaginable power. He felt everything.

And when he thought it was over it doubled. Magnus felt himself drawn to another, a different kind of link, Alexander and someone else, a parabatai. Something Magnus would have never guessed to ever feel, from the rune right above his hip, Magnus felt the energy, felt their bond, felt Alexander's body as if it were his own. He would feel and see Alexander even with his eyes closed. He could see, feel their connection as if it was his own. His magic sparked, unseen, trying to reunite itself with his soulmate, with Alexander, to become one again.

Magnus wanted to weep.

'Where have you been ? I've been looking for you for so long now.'

"My apologies, we will resume the meeting shortly." Magnus could feel the increased heartbeat and the tensing of muscles. He could feel the ragged breathing and trepidation -or was it excitement ? - Alexander was trying to control as he tried to keep his voice steady. They both sat back down too much in sync, too mirrored. Magnus was thankful for nobody taking notice when he had stood up in surprise as well when Alexander spilled his coffee.

Alexander… his soulmate's name was Alexander and he was a Nephilim, inquisitor and brother to the head of the New York Institute.

A stele was taken. Magnus felt his skin prickle above his hip and the dry and sour taste of angelic magic coated his mouth. Any burning sensation on his arm melted away.

He couldn't concentrate after that. Even if he did, even when he advanced Tessa's points and arguments, even if when he talked people seemed to listen an compliment his proposals. Alexander's eyes never strayed away from him. Magnus tried to ignore. But his heartbeat was in his throat and he could feel and hear Alexander's from across the room. One injury… It usually took a few hours if not several weeks to have the soulmarks awaken and connect, to recognize each other. All it took was one small injury in the form of spilled coffees. Magnus glanced at Alexander again.

He tried to keep his voice strong but a flush was creeping on his neck. They needed to talk. They really, really, needed to talk.

So when the meeting came to an end and a few things were agreed upon, Magnus was thankful for it, even if he knew how to keep his head cool. He would be able to work once his- no their heartbeats calmed and quieted down. Now that there was no fear for injury anymore, their bond even became dormant again after a few minutes.

He didn't sign anything because he preferred to review with both Catarina and Tessa before he continued the negotiations forward. Currently they all entertained the idea of having a High Warlock placed in Alicante. Every party agreed it was an idea to be developed in further meetings, to create a proposal to present before the Clave. It was thrilling, exciting. It made his head spin. A new age of stability was something that was well deserved and needed. He would find himself sending a letter to Clary Fray, the one shadowhunter who had made this all possible. He couldn't wait to meet her if he could.

Isabelle stood up and recited the agenda points for the next meeting one last time before rounding off with thanking everyone. Some people immediately rose to leave. Others stayed to chat. But Magnus ? He was lost in thought.

He had dreamed several times of meeting his soulmate, imagined them to be of all kinds of races and genders. In different scenarios and imaginative dreams he would either save them or be save by them. Or they would even show casual conversations in a bar or a knock on his front door as a client. He would never have imagined meeting his soulmate like this. Not in a shadowhunter institute.

He breathed in, nerves lighting up in him. He started to walk toward the exit. Alexander noticed him walking as he made his way past the newly formed social group were Simon Lewis was engaging everyone in a conversation about the incident at the DuMort. Magnus clenched his jaw, trying to ground himself.

"I will be outside shortly," he said. His eyes locked with Alexander's and Magnus had to control himself not to take a step backwards, anticipating that the intense gaze would leave him breathless.

He forced himself to continue walking, to be casual. He was afraid Alexander wouldn't follow him but once Magnus passed the door he heard the inquisitor call out an apology to his friends because he needed to do something. Magnus felt himself speed up. Not sure why, but it calmed his nerves. He found the main entrance quite fast. He opened the door, making his way down the church's stairs.

"High Warlock Bane."

He breathed as Alexander called out for him.

"Magnus !"

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. There he stood, Alexander Lightwood, his cold and focused expression had melted away. There was hope, confusion, fear now. It was everything at once and he was a bit out of breath. The yellow street lights and high lanterns only visible to the ones with the sight played shadows behind him. Magnus didn't reply. He didn't know what to say. He… wanted to step forward but didn't. Alexander's rejection was still on his mind but Alexander's expression was squeezing his thoughts shut. There was curiosity on those fine and broad traits.

"Your name is Magnus." He moved down the stairs, scratching his neck while doing so as he stopped a step or two from Magnus. He looked beautiful, Magnus thought. "I-" he tried.

"You're a Nephilim," Magnus interrupted. He wanted to soothe away the frown on Alexander's brow, soothe away the fear. The phrase froze Alexander in place as he lowered his hand from his neck.

"You're a Warlock," he replied. Magnus took a step upwards. Breathing in wasn't easy. He felt his stomach twist, jump. He couldn't be aware of them all at once. It was too much.

But also not enough.

"I don't care." His voice wavered. He wanted to reach out. Touch. He wanted to touch Alexander. Feel him, touch him, make sure he was real. That all of this wasn't a fragment of his imagination, not some other dream he was having. He wanted Alexander. He wanted his arms around him, embrace him, have his lips on him. He wanted to kiss him.

"Neither do I." Alexander's voice was hoarse. Magnus took another step upwards. They were right in front of each other.

"I know we had a hiccup earlier. When I… rejected you. I'm sorry so sorry. I-" Alexander closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to find words. Magnus tilted his head to the side to let the Nephilim take his time to find his words.

"It's hard for me do these things- flirting I mean." He sounded embarrassed and Magnus felt himself tremble from the butterflies in his belly and his legs shake from their proximity. His head would almost be spinning if he let it.

"I know it wouldn't be appropriate for me to ask and you can always say no. But-" There was a blush coating Alexander's cheeks. "But by the angel can I kiss you ?"

Magnus felt his heart stop, thrum, throb. All of it. He felt all of it. His hands shook slightly as he reached out for Alexander's. He brought them up to his own face. Alexander had a loud intake of breath as their skins touched. Magnus let the hands go as they settled on his jawline and cheeks. He was still trembling and he reached out for the lapels of Alexander's jacket to ground himself again. He could feel the heat, the hot breath upon his face.

"You may, Alexander, you may." As soon as he breathed the words two lips laid himself upon his in the softest way possible.

Magnus floated, feeling every sense open up. He lost control of his glamour if not a little bit of his legs too. His magic roped them together. Like a wave and tendrils of light intermixing with the magic from their soul-bond. He felt his skin prickle as their marks solidified. The wetness of lips and the heat on his cheeks made him almost forget to respond to Alexander's kiss. But he did and Alexander dragged them closer together. He let his hands fall from Magnus' face to circle the warlock's shoulders. The hands felt steadier and when their kiss became more feverish, more them, more movements and nipping at lips, Magnus' head spun into oblivion, forgetting about time and space, forgetting about the world around them.

They had stuff to figure out, places to move, things and boundaries to talk about, political decisions to make, dates to go on to.

But it didn't matter.

Not right now.

Not when after years of searching, yearning and almost giving up, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of London, found his soulmate again.

The End

[cloud-quackery]

REDESIGNS

Brayden birch Jose Miguel Robert Louise Carlotta Aqua Carlos de spell-Quackery II

Age: 12 (oldest triplet by 6 seconds)

Personality: sweet, caring, intelligent, trustworthy,open minded,optimistic,self aware,shy,loner,saint,smart,daring,challenging,hopeless romantic,adventurous,friendly,kind,helpful,confident,independent,innocent,elegant,loyal,listener,not much of a talker,gentleman,curious,strong,gets flustered easily,fighter,quiet,honest,passionate,moody,clever,introvert,quiet

Parents: Agatha de spell and Poe de spell

Guardians: Alice and Marc serenity,officer Cabrera (he’s been going to her house ever since he moved),Eleanor Hart (acts like a mom to him)

Siblings and cousins: Bella and Bridget (triplet sisters),blaze (young bro),Roman and rosabella (first cousin),the de spell kids,Jacob featherweight,Theo lestrange,Luna and Christopher goodwood, Jacqueline Hart (acts like his sister)

Raised in: Fowldale but moved to duckburg when he was 7

Crush: he only has a thing for viv but feels like he should give up on her

He’s a siren

Brayden is a gymnast

He’s a guitarist

Learns Spanish

Doesn’t know about some girls who like him

Isa is his best friend ( @creative-draws-stuff)

He’s also a story teller he can make objects move with his guitar if he plays one tune and people love it when he tells story

He’s a gentleman but he always keeps his back straight for some reason

Secret singer and nobody knows it’s him

He’s great friends with Webby

He has good friends named Laurence,Laurin,and laurel (quadruplet brothers) But there sister (the youngest quadruplet) Lorelei dovetail has a crush on Brayden (btw Laurence,laurin,laurel,and Lorelei are all sirens)

Eleanor took care of him most of the time (and almost called her mom)

Good at most things and often helps a lot of people

He has a good throw and catch (like seriously)

Tries to make more friends But Max is making it hard for him

Rosabella is his least favourite cousins (and hers too since she doesn’t like sirens)

He’s knows how play the piano and violin

The best one in his fencing group

Has depression ever since he moved he cuts himself but only little cuts he does it three times a year

He sees Agatha in his dreams and has a music box that she used to sing them

And one of his powers are strength so he is pretty strong (really really strong)

Wears gloves to control his powers

He’s a junior woodchuck

Bridget Arianna Clementine orchid De spell-Quackery II

Age: 12 (younger triplet by 5 minutes)

Personality: flirty,attractive,matchmaker,sweet,kind,lady,optimistic,smart,passionate, trustworthy,self centred (not really),caring, adventurous, heroic,independent,confident,people person,elegant, intelligent,clever,charming,romantic,friendly,moody,helpful,daring,challenging,calm,honest,loyal,listener,talker.

Parents: Agatha De spell-Quackery and Poe De spell

Guardians: Layla and Oliver bluebell,Noah summer (acts like a dad)

Raised in: duckburg but born in st,canard

Crush: Louie

She’s basically the next Cupid

One of her powers are love so if she sees 2 people fight she’ll stop it with her power

Sage Starr is her best friend

called Noah dad when she was 5

She Wants true love

Basically flirts with every boy she sees or meets

Shes British

Doesn’t like wearing gloves but she will when she’s older

Mostly takes care of blaze

Wants to know gizmoducks real identity

She mostly spends her time with Fenton

Has the longest hair than Bella

Has a small friend group

She loves to sing and dance

She’s a junior woodchuck

Blaze oak Ashlyn De spell-Quackery

Age: 8

Personality: sweet, caring, trustworthy, intelligent,kind,heroic,independent , confident,optimistic,honest,talker, questionnaire,smart,adventurous,open minded,friendly,innocent,passionate,artistic,calm,helpful ,loyal,challenging,clever,charming,rebel ,leader.

Parents: Agatha and Poe

Guardians:Bella and Daniel

Raised in:duckburg

Crush: ???

Wants to be a hero

Was raised and named by Bella

Gizmoduck is one of his idols

Doesn’t exactly have many friends

Bella is his role model and idol

Plays the cello and a violin

Looks older because of his height

Trying to find that special girl (or guy…)

He helps other people

He questions Fenton a lot if Brayden or Bridget let him come over

Wears gloves (I forgot to add them)

Some people call him Ashlyn (because of his last name)

Doesn’t know who Agatha is