#JEAN MEANS SO MUCH TO CLARE I-

[claremikas]

I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about this part

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 8

I wish I could explain to you the absolute feat it was to complete these chapters. I’ve been having a TIME lol but like,,, not a bad time? Just a busy one. I’ll probably be gone for a bit (but who actually knows) since I’ve got a few end-of-year projects that have been taking up my time and brain. And I don’t recall if I mentioned before, but I’m on a 2-year medication that causes SUCH bad brain fog. anyway. That’s enough over sharing. Here’s the rest of were you sent by someone?

table of contents

i’m not pretending in the way you are

It becomes a routine, Jamie coming over. It doesn’t help that Madeline (the fucking traitor) vaguely endorses the whole thing after girl’s night at Keeley’s. 

“I genuinely think he’s trying,” she says. “He goes to therapy, for fuck’s sake. That’s got to mean something.”

“Fuck you,” you reply good-naturedly and Madeline just poses for another selfie with Clare. 

But she’s right. He is trying, trying in a way he didn’t when you were together. He’s almost reliable, although you’d never say it to his face. He shows up with flowers, doesn’t push boundaries, and more often than not he makes dinner. 

And he’s fucking brilliant with Clare. It’s almost unfair how good he is, with no practice whatsoever. She loves him, smiles whenever she can see him and giggles when he holds her.

You take her to a game, once. Madeline comes too, wearing an oversized Rojas kit and a miniskirt. You just wear a red shirt and jeans, but Bean has a Tartt onesie. You see Keeley Jones from afar and barely dodge having to talk to her. Jamie finds you after the match and Madeline takes a picture of the three of you. Jamie has his arms wrapped around you and you’re smiling. It’s a real smile too, and the picture ends up on your fridge. You’re not sure how because you definitely didn’t put it there, but Madeline and Jamie are there often enough that it could have been either one of them. 

Most dinners devolve into fierce arguments between Jamie and Madeline about who love Clare the most, but you aren’t complaining. She’s sleeping through the night now, so you let them argue while glued to your computer.

Jamie has taken to holding your hand whenever he can manage it. He always was one for physical touch, and it’s nice. He hasn’t made a move beyond that and you’re not ready for that but whatever you have right now is working.

Georgie visits, and that’s strange. You’d only met her twice before, and now she’s in your house holding Clare while Jamie sits on the couch next to them. It feels like intruding almost, the way they all have the same face and the same smile, so you disappear upstairs. They won’t notice, you’re positive, but there’s a tap on the door to your room and instead of looking up to see Jamie, it’s Georgie. She comes in and sits at the end of your bed at your invitation and says, “Are you all right, love?”

You smile, the one you use for photographs. Not fake, but not real either. “Of course,” you reply. “I’m glad you could come meet Clare. You’re welcome back any time.”

Georgie squints. “It must be strange for you,” she says, “going from being all alone to having the other side of Clare’s family. It was hard enough for me when Simon came ‘round, much less Jamie. And Jamie was older, too, so the poor baby was always worried Simon was going to leave.”

You nod. You’re quite familiar with the story. You still aren’t sure Jamie trusts Simon, but maybe he wouldn’t trust anyone with his mum.

Which begs the question, do you really trust anyone with Clare? Jamie’s been lovely for a whole month, but a month isn’t long enough to really tell. You wonder if the threat of him leaving will always loom over your head.

“Jamie called me, you know,” Georgie says. “It was right after he met Clare. He wanted to know how to un-fuck up everything and I told him he might not be able to. He was a right little shit, I heard. I just told him what I would have liked when I was in your shoes, but I know it doesn’t magically fix everything.”

And that… that makes sense. Not that Jamie couldn’t have figured out how to make things better on his own, but he did it almost perfectly. It makes sense why everything he did seemed to anticipate all your needs. He’d asked someone who’d been in your shoes, and hadn’t gotten the help she might have wanted. 

“He loves you, you know,” Georgie continues. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to pressure you to speak, which is good because you don’t have much to say. “I mean, he really, truly, spectacularly loves you. He speaks about you in all of our conversations, always going on about how amazing you are at your job and as a mum.” That’s interesting. You hadn’t known Jamie spoke to Georgie about you, much less what he might have said. You know Georgie can be many things, but she isn’t a liar. 

She hesitates for a moment. “You don’t have to treat me like your mum, but I’d like to treat you as my daughter. I always hoped Jamie would choose someone who’d make him want to be better. He’s a sweet thing, he is, but he gets funny in the head sometimes, you know what I mean?”

You smile. “Jamie? Funny in the head? Say it isn’t so.”

Georgie laughs. “Ah, that Clare is going to have quite the sense humor between the two of you I’m sure. You’ll have to come ‘round up north when you can manage it. I know Simon would be absolutely delighted to meet you both.”

Your eyes flicker. That’s a big step. A very permanent, potentially painful step.

Georgie catches it and leans forward. “Love, I’m not just here because of the baby. I’m here because you’re someone Jamie cares about. Simon and I want to be a support system for you.” She smiles. “And of course, we don’t want to step on your toes. James’s parents were always trying to take Jamie, and I fucking hated it.”

You hear footsteps on the stairs and Jamie appears with Clare. “Oi,” he says, “you lot having a chat about me?”

“No,” you and Georgie chorus and Jamie just squints. “Fucking lying, you are. Can always tell.”

You hold your arms out for Clare. At this rate, the kid won’t be on the floor long enough to learn how to crawl.

“Cruel,” Jamie continues, and you roll your eyes. So dramatic, he is. “Anyway, came up to see if you’d like to go out to eat tonight. I can’t do the fuckin’ dishes. I need a break.”

“Lazybones,” Georgie says, and it’s different now than it was downstairs. It feels like family.

—

Georgie’s been gone a week and you’ve been roped into dinner at Jamie’s with Roy Kent and Keeley fucking Jones.

Thank fucking god Madeline’s there as well with her on-again off-again boy toy who’s probably her soulmate and who she will most likely marry when she’s in her forties because otherwise you’d lose your fucking shit.

It’s a strange dinner without the fact that you can’t stomach Keeley, because Roy fucking hates Jamie.

You’re pretty sure he tolerates you, and he definitely likes Clare because he holds her most of the night before you put her down in her room to sleep. 

The feeling’s mutual, because she cries the moment you take her from him.

You say, “You’re good with kids,” and Roy just shrugs.

Back at the dinner table, Madeline’s had to dig her nails into your thigh. She’s definitely going to leave crescent fingernail marks, but if it stops you from being rude, you won’t wiggle away.

Jamie’s oblivious. He just seems happy not to be alone in his giant, far too quiet house. It’s a relatively uneventful evening, although you’re not the biggest fan of the way Keeley tells stories about Jamie like he belongs to her, somehow. Or like you don’t exist.

By the time she and Roy leave, you’re exhausted. The last thing you want to do is wake Clare, drive her home, and try to get her to sleep again.

Madeline and Isaiah (aforementioned boy toy) leave soon after, and you call, “Use protection!” as they walk down the steps.

“Worked well for you, did it?” Isaiah asks and you flip him off, but you aren’t mad. Like you said, you’re relatively certain he’s Madeline’s soulmate and he’s been around long enough that he’s allowed to joke like that.

The door finally closes behind them and you’re ready to collapse. You turn to find Jamie with a similar expression and without conscious effort, you make your way into his arms.

You close your eyes and sigh as you rest your cheek on his chest.

He asks, “You tired?” and you nod. “Want to spend the night? Can make up the room next to Clare’s. Won’t take long.”

You shake your head, and you feel him deflate a little. “I don’t want the room next to Clare’s.”

Jamie pulls away a bit to gauge your expression. “You mean-?”

You nod. “I hate sleeping alone. It’s cold and stupid.”

Jamie says, “Hm,” and uses one hand to brush hair away from your face. Your gaze flicks to his lips for a moment, but he definitely sees it. You have just enough time to say, “We’re not having sex,” before he’s kissing you, and you think that maybe forgiving him isn’t such a terrible idea after all. 

But you’re too tired to explore that idea further so when he breaks away to get some air, you pull him upstairs and to his room where you both collapse on the bed and fall asleep intertwined.

[mightydyke]

Top five Claymore warriors?

This is such a hard question to answer that I had to re-read lots of volumes of Claymore before coming to a conclusion. My answers are based on how I feel now but I will probably change my mind later on haha. Thanks for the question!

1.) Teresa because she's so cool and amazing and I love how much she loves Clare. I'm obsessed with her as a character but also her fighting style is so cool because of how unique it is. It's not particularly flashy or cool-looking but it's so cohesive with the rest of the techniques. Getting off topic but I love how the idea of yoma power in Claymore allows for so many techniques. With a lot of manga it just has a character yell out the name of their magic technique and no explanation but in Claymore the techniques make a lot of sense with the world-building.

2.) Clare. I love how she's rebellious and almost childish and very emotional but it's all beneath such a calm surface. Her relationship with Teresa and all her comrades makes me cry. I love initially she's weak because she's only quarter-yoma, but she becomes strong due to her relationships with those around her. The techniques she learned from Ilena, Rafaela and Flora all help her, and although Jean's block prevented her from awakening, it allowed Teresa to awaken, making her even stronger than ever. Her strength being due to all her bonds with her comrades is so amazing.

3.) Helen and Deneve. Putting them together because they come as a package. You can't separate them. I love how they both seemed like arseholes when they first met Clare and they kinda of are but they're still lovely people and very important to Clare. I love how in Claymore, female characters can be loud and annoying (Helen) and straight-talking to the point of seeming mean (Deneve) and they're still loveable, amazing characters. I also love how perceptive and clever Deneve is.

4.) Jean. Obviously the doomed yuri and the self-sacrifice, but a small detail about her character I like is when she introduced herself to Clare, she only said her name, not her rank, and later when Helen and Deneve ask them her rank, she says her name first. Just shows how she cares much more about her comrades as people, not their skill.

5.) Galatea. She is so sassy it's amazing. She's strong and she knows it. Her technique is really cool as well as her personality.

[oneshotnewbie]

I have no idea if I’ve already requested this. So sorry if I have. But could you do Veronica Hastings with a younger shy reader who is friends with the girls (after high school, obviously not a minor) and the girls find out about their relationship and get upset, so Veronica comforts the crying reader and then confronts the girls ( nobody hurts her babygirl) and it all works out??? I love Veronica and no one writes for her. I feel like she’d call the reader ‘honey’ and ‘baby’, and just be overall protective. I love all your stories❤️

A/n: I got carried away, sorry it's so long. As indicated in the request, the reader is older and about the age of Spencer today (28) so.. not a minor! Spencer lives in her own apartment and not anywhere near the Hastings house. Also Alison is not in the story. I hope it´s okay! :)

---

It was a grey, stormy and rainy day that A had chosen to clear the air with your best friends and drop the biggest bombshell of your life. The rain hit the window panes hard and transformed your otherwise calm demeanor into endless nervousness.

The air filled with silence, irrepressible stillness. A light breeze from the tilted window in Spencer's kitchen blew around you, giving the situation a superbly cold environment and brushing your long grown hair onto your shoulder. Your heart was pounding in your throat, your agitation evident in the trembling of your hands.

"Spencer, say something. Please." you spoke softly into the silence that was so unusual for the five of you. Eight pairs of eyes were immediately focused on you and your fear grew as their pupils dilated in shock. They stared at you wordlessly with their mouths wide open. You had no idea what was going on inside Spencer, quite not understanding the meaning and the truth behind the message that had reached you all recently.

"Is that true?", despite the unplanned incident that had ruined your evening, the one addressed was sitting on one of the bar stools acting calm and trying to understand it all. She raised an eyebrow in a way that sent a chill down your spine. "Why?"

"She´s your best friends mom, Y/n! How could you do that to her?"

You nervously wiped your sweaty hands on your tight jeans, hoping she didn´t notice how you were shaking, not knowing what to say.

What would she think when you would confess to her that you couldn´t think straight when Veronica was around. When your heart was beating as fast as it is now and you were afraid it would jump out of your chest when she stood next to you. When your skin started to tingle whenever her fingers touched a single spot on your body.

Her eyes were beautiful and had this warm shade of brown, a brown like you´ve never seen on anyone. They always reminded you of light chocolate or a warm autumn day. And every time you lost yourself in them when they stared at you with love and care.

"Mrs. Hastings is so much older than you, couldn´t you get someone your age?" asked Hanna and you couldn´t help but roll your eyes. You quickly rotated in your chair and looked at her seriously. "Oh, but Aria can start something with her teacher?"

"This is something completely different, Y/n! Don´t drag Ezra and me into this."

Inside, your encouraged yourself to let your opinion about everything they do and have done out but involuntarily held your breath. Then, you clared your throat and started to stutter, but this was immediately stopped by the raspy voice of the housekeeper. "We´re friends, we trust each other! We´ve been through so much and you´re hiding this from me, from us? How long?"

You tried not to show your insecurity but sighed in agony. Words just wouldn´t leave your lips and you would like to run away at this point.

"You know what? Forget it. I want you out of here. Get out of my house!" Spencer yelled and you jumped so hard that the coffee in your hand spilled over the rim of the cup and spilled onto the marble counter.

The pitch and tone, the way she pronounced every single term, gave each simple word it´s own special touch, a frightening one that made you shudder and jump out of your seat. Packing your bag and a few small things together, you squeezed past Aria and Hanna and disappeared out of the street.

Spencer shakes her head, letting go of her defensive position at the kitchen counter as she pushes herself off and surveyed the three ladies next to her. Hastily, she stroked her wrinkled forehead in disbelief. "I urgently need a drink now, otherwise I will go crazy. You too?"

All three nodded in unison and spread out to carry out glasses and the delivery cards for the food order.

---

It was well past midnight when you barged into the Hastings house and Veronica was sitting in the living room, paperwork in hand as she concentrated on revising a file. You didn´t know where to go at this late hour, you didn´t want to go back to your empty apartment alone, where you had to worry about whether your best friends still wanted to have anything to do with you after all this.

Frightened by the loud slamming of the door into the lock, her gaze turned up to you and looked into your eyes intently while she gave you a loving smile. "Hey, what are you doing here so late? I thought you wanted to spend the night with your girls?"

You didn´t answer and stood there still, the rain that had soaked into your scarf and your coat only dripping lightly on the expensive parquet floor. You ran your cold and shaky fingers through your soaked hair and brushed back some strands that had been blocking her view of your face.

Only when she took a closer look and the light of the dull lamp in the living room illuminated you, she clearly saw that instead of the usual water falling from the sky, real tears escaped your eyes and were running down your cheeks.

Immediately, the printed papers fell onto the table and she pushed herself up from her seat with her hands firmly placed on her thighs. With quick steps, she skirted the corner of the sofa and walked towards you with outstretched arms. You literally fell into her arms, sobbing into her embrace as she hugged you tightly and drew her fingers in soothing circles over your hair. "What´s going on my love?"

"The girls, they figured it out. They know about us." sobbing, you pressed against her and she pulled you even closer before the older one pulled away shortly after and wrapped her fingers softly around one of your wrists. "Come here."

Urgently, Veronica sat down in her previous seat and slapped her thigh with her free hand as a sign for you to sit on her lap. You followed her silent request and took a seat. Resting your head on her shoulder, you hid your face in the crook of her neck and wrapped your arms around her middle.

"From the looks of you, things didn´t go as well, huh?" gentle palms of hands slid from your hips to your shoulder blades, touching them tenderly and very lightly. Goosebumps began to spread over your body rapidly as her touch triggered a pleasant shiver and your stomach started to tingle.

The silence she got back in reply worried her and she pressed her lips together thoughtfully. She pulled away from you for a brief moment and sighed as she whispered your name into your ear. "Y/n." she whispers softly, her lips brushing over your cheek, lovingly.

But your gaze remained downcast and your posture showed no attempt that your eyes would soon swivel up to her. She set about catching your gaze herself and so her index finger pressed under your chin, slowly and carefully guiding your head towards hers. "Look at me honey."

"Spencer kicked me out of her apartment." you started to speak; your voice thick from the tears you tried to swallow. Your heart was racing when your glassy eyes met her maple brown ones and as if by reflex, one of her hands jumped into your hair and pushed you forth against her chest. "Her look was so cold and there was this pure disappointment in her eyes. And the other girls didn´t even say anything about it, they didn´t even defend me or anything. They just stood there and were appalled by me. Even Aria who was dating her damn teacher!"

Veronica had to swallow and couldn´t believe what she was hearing. Quarrels between you were normal, she had noticed them often enough and sometimes even had to separate you personally before you would have strucked each other´s head.

But Spencer had never kicked you out, no matter how bad the argument was. The lawyer was speechless and sighed in disbelief at the behavior of her own daughter. You were inseparable; have known each other for far longer than anyone else and yet she had managed to treat you like that and not stand by your side.

"Listen, I will get Spencer and the others over here first thing in the morning and sort this out. No one has the right to treat my girl like that, not even my own daughter." she hissed under her breath and leaned towards the table to grab her phone. With a quick tap of her newly manicured fingernails on the screen, she rushed a quick message into the text block and tossed it back to her side as soon as she finished.

"Everything will be okay, honey. I will explain everything to the girls tomorrow and everything will be back to normal. You know how Spencer is, she can never stay mad at you for long. You are everything to her."

You looked up at her again and you could see the truth in her eyes. They were like a mirror to her soul and you could see right away what she was thinking or if she was lying. But this time it was different, she meant her sentence and you had to believe her.

She was the last hope of reuniting with your best friends.

"Why are you looking at me like that, my love?" the brunette required; a slight smile playing around her seductive, curved lips. Her sunny smile gave you the warmth and security in that moment. It saved you from the swamp of despair and gave you confidence that things will be better between you and your friend again. "I love you."

"I love you too," her lips started touching your cheeks slightly before making their way to your temples, back to your nose and finally to your lips again. "But now we have to dry and warm you up my love. You are freezing cold."

---

"You took it too far!" you heard a harsh voice screaming from the living room and woke up from your sleep. Opening your eyes just a crack, you felt across the bed for your woman´s warm body, whose arms were usually wrapped around you at all times. But this time the place was cold, the covers thrown energetic onto the side of the bed frame, laying half over the edge and on the floor. "You´re overreacting!"

"We´re overreacting? Mom, you shagged my best friend."

With your elbows supporting you, you pulled yourself up and ruffled your tousled hair. For a moment, you thought about dropping back down and just throwing the covers over your head, but this argument was about you and you knew it would be worse if you didn´t show up downstairs.

"Spencer." Veronica looked blankly at her daughter, her eyes clear and fixed on her younger self as a serious and balanced expression formed on her face. She raised her eyebrows sharply and snorted out in anger. "Be mad at me all you want but leave her out of it."

You tiptoed down the wooden stairs and stopped in the middle of it; the perfect place to have an overview of the whole living room and kitchen. Up until now, no one had noticed you. "Leave her out of it? Mom, she is already in the middle of it!" the brunette suddenly snapped, pointing her open hand in your direction.

You swallowed hard when you saw the sparkle of anger in her eyes, it almost scared you if you didn´t know her better. All eyes were suddenly on you and you would have liked to sink into the ground, but Veronica stopped you, waving her arm as a sign that you should approach her.

You slowly walked to your girlfriend´s side and her hand gently snuggled around your waist. Normally, you enjoyed the warmth, the closeness and the gesture, but you didn´t want to let your best friend and the others get angry with you.

"Spencer, please." you almost sounded pleading and desperate. Tears welled up in your eyes and Veronica pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your temple. "I really love your mother. Tell me why you don´t accept our relationship.. what have I done? Do you think I am not enough?

"You could see Spencer wrestling with herself, your words and what you thought she was mad at you for hurt her a lot. Suddenly, she wasn´t sure anymore why she was that at all. Actually, she wanted to be happy for you, especially after the pain and loss you had gone because of A. She was sorry for what she had said to you and how she treated you. The brunette shouldn´t have put all that in your head.

Another minute passed as the girls stood at the kitchen counter, not making up their minds. Spencer eyeing the petite person in her mother´s arms and let her gaze wander over your when she caught your teary eyes.

Spencer could see sadness, fear and disappointment and felt the hurt she had set up in you. The brunette´s gaze automatically softened and a very light, gentle smile graced her lips.

You were her closest friend of all the girls and she could have slapped herself for hurting you. That brought her out of her thoughts and she tried to find the right words in her head, but your big, red and puffed eyes were an awful distraction.

Neither of you had said a word and just looked at each other. It was almost as if you were having a telepathic conversation, which in a way you were. You could see in each others eyes what both of you were thinking but couldn´t put it into words.

The youngest Hastings considered the best way to express herself, but for the first time in her life she seemed to have run out of words and decided to let action speak for itself. She quickly walked around the kitchen island and hugged you tightly. You were briefly perplexed and stiffened in her arms, but returned her hug and relaxed after a short while.

Being close to her was exactly what you needed at that moment. You clung to her and laid your head on her shoulder. You just stood there for a long time and enjoyed each others warmth- you both really missed each other in such a short time. Eventually, Spencer pulled her head back enough to look you in the eyes again, but didn´t let you go out of her grasp. "I am sorry."

She has whispered it, almost breathed it, and you could her the sheer seriousness in her voice. At the same time, it caused a warm shiver through your whole body- a feeling of happiness as everyone would say. You closed your eyes briefly and looked to the side where you saw Veronica´s smiling face. The girls had also had a happy facial expression and were glad that the argument finally came to an end.

You nodded back to Spencer and brought out a breathy "me too" as your voice cracked in the silent house.

Once again, she wrapped you in a tight hug and you tensed up slightly again, but not because you were uncomfortable, but to suppress the tears of joy that came up. The argument had taken a toll on you, more than you thought at first, but now you felt nothing but pure happiness that sucked all the pain from the last few hours out of your body.

[edwinspaynes]

(totally skip some if you want to) 4, 10, 14, 37, 55, 69, 70, 94 for the unusual asks? sorry if it's a lot, there were too many good ones😅

4. do you like your name? why? -> My name's Healy, and I like it very much! I like how it sounds, and it's a unique name that makes me feel like I stand out, lol.

10. how would you describe your style? -> Ha. This is fun. I'd definitely say I opt for casual-cute. In the summer, this usually means a well-fitting tank and cute shorts with sandals... or a sundress. In the winter, I wear a lot of long-sleeved v-necks, jeans, and boots/ankle boots. I also wear the same necklace every day, a replica of Cordelia Carstairs' globe necklace (that James gave her when they got married) in The Last Hours books! Pairs well with some cute bracelets and earrings.

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? -> Already answered - Canterbury!

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? -> I read every day. It's my passion, along with writing. My favourite book is Chain of Thorns by Cassandra Clare, the last book in The Last Hours trilogy. It makes me feel so warm and hopeful, and I love that for me. Besides the three Last Hours books and its prequel The Infernal Devices, my faves are anything by Jane Austen or Charles Dickens. Also a massive fan of KJ Charles's books.

55. what is your dream job? -> Novelist! I love writing, and I've written a couple of books before. I specifically write queer stories in the romance and fantasy genres. Now it's just a matter of publishing.

69. do you play an instrument? -> Yep! Cello.

70. what was the last concert you saw? -> I went to Eras last year in Foxborough, MA! Had a really wonderful time. I got the lower bowl seats of my DREAMS for a really low price within an hour. Which was insane considering all the Ticketmaster bullshit. I am BLESSED to have gotten the LoverFest boost.

94. favorite lyrics right now? -> And no matter what I've done it wouldn't matter anyway / Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake / here / at the park where we used to sit on children's swings / wearing imaginary rings / but it's gonna be alright / I did my time... (Do I like this because it reminds me of Payneland and how absolutely perfect they are together? Yes. Yes, I do.)

[lovemars03]

♡ ISIDORE AND SIMONE FIRST KISS ♡ (scene inspired in the TMI graphic novel)

TMI characters genderbend version from Cassandra Jean and Cassandra Clare.

I created this fanfic/imagine based on a scene from the TMI graphic novel and thinked of doing a genderbend version! English it's not my native language, so you will probaly find a few grammar mistakes.

Enjoy!

-------------------🪻-------------------

"I'm going to take Simone to the park and show her the faerie circles." announced Isidore, with bright smile in his face.

"Faeries?!"

Simone jumped in surprise from her seat in the Taki's restaurant. Her astonished pale face changing to a tender pink as her eyes landed on Clarence. The redhead boy was side besides Isidore, with a grumpy face looking nothing but irritated.

Alexa, Isidore's older sister, she looked bored, if not irritated, and not caring about the two mundanes at the table. Every now and then, her eyes would go from Jayce to her plate in quick seconds that (she thought) no one noticed.

"Cool! Are you coming, Clarence?" Simone asked, adjusting her glasses.

Clarence glanced quickly at his childhood friend, then at Isidore, before shrugging his shoulders and distracting himself with the pancakes he had ordered. Across the table, Jayce had a smirk on her face that irritated Simone.

"No" responded Clarence, averting his emerald eyes "I'm tired. I'm going back to rest."

Simone's heart shriveled like a balloon being bitterly popped by a sharp needle. She just nodded in understanding, squeezing the hem of her jean shorts until her knuckles turned white. She didn't noticed Isidore smiling.

"Well, okay..."

The night in the park was colder than the mundane and the Shadowhunter could imagine, it was almost autumn after all, and soon the orange leaves of the trees would cover Central Park like an embroidered cloak all in gold. But surprisingly, it was also very empty. Simone followed Isidore's trail. She looked him up and down. He was much taller than Clarence and the rest of the boys at their school, handsome—very handsome—and provocative-looking. The clothes he wore only served to show off the handsome face he'd been blessed with, wearing a white shirt that let his muscles show through his skin, where the flesh was marked by the whitish scars of the runes the Shadowhunters wore. He gave off a faint scent of vanilla that didn't bother Simone, but on the contrary, pleased her. He was totally different, if not the opposite, from Clarence.

Clarence was never a boy who cared much about his appearance. If he had been more dedicated to wearing fashionable clothes and taking care of his always messy red curls, they certainly would have attracted a lot more stares from the girls in high school. Clarence's father, currently missing, was a very handsome man, tall, with green eyes and red hair who commanded attention everywhere he went. Simone imagined that, when older, Clarence would look like his father.

"Thanks for the walk. I needed some air." said Simone.

Isidore peeked over his shoulder, flashing a quick smirk. Hm!

"We don't come here often. It's faerie territory."

"What do you mean?"

Slowing their steps, they passed in front of a fountain of water, where three women carved from cold marble stretching their bodies in a bent position and holding hands, as if they danced happily to a rhythm they could not stop, intoxicated by the madness and the music. and with smiles on their faces.

Isidore stopped his steps, lifted his chin, looking at a field of flowers behind the fountain.

"People think they can control green spaces, but they can't" he said, thoughtful "It's where fair folk are strongest."

Simone raised her eyebrows. Fair folk? Like the folklore? Simone tried to imagine what the fair folk would look like. They look like Tinker Bell from Peter Pan? She also watched many Disney movies and readed fairytales books in her childhood, but couldn't picture any of them. By the way Isidore spoke, they must have been something much more... machiavellian.

"And they aren't friendly?" asked.

"Some are, some aren't. Look"

Isidore pointed beyond the fountain, directly to the field of flowers where the beautiful petals were in bloom, lit only by the park's glowing streetlamps.Simone looked in the direction he was pointing, squinting through the lenses of her glasses.

"Can you see that one?" asked Isidore. There was a young green-skinned fairy dancing on the top of one of the flowers, with a huge smile on his face and humming a happy ballad.

"No, I'm not magic. I'm not like Clarence" Simone answered disappointedly, looking at the flower, where she couldn't see anything. "I'm just ordinary."

The breeze blew harder between them, Simone flinched, a small scream escaping between her teeth. It was too cold, they should be back soon! What would Clarence be doing...

Isidore, at her side, moved as lightly as the breeze blew through his short hair, as if he weighed nothing, he leaned elegantly over Simone. Her heart beat faster.

He smelled deliciously like flowers, the scent of which no boy at Simone's school had ever smelled. Not even the others girls with their expensive perfumes. Isidore, who wasn't a mundane, had an inexplicable charm that she couldn't quite explain… maybe it was something about that angel blood thing in his veins?

His dark brown eyes were too close, staring directly into hers. His face was too close.

"I don't think you're ordinary." He whispered softly.

With her mundane vision not allowing her to see anything but the boy crouching in front of her, Simone didn't notice as the fairies rose in a flurry of wings, flapping their wings. She closed her eyes as Isidore's lips approached hers, his breath warm and good. Isidore wrapped his arms around her petite body, resting his elbows on her shoulders as they touched their lips in a soft kiss as the breeze blew sending leaves and petals swirling between them as the mischievous little fairies flew towards him as if in a dance, admiring that moment. Isidore's fingers closed against the fabric of her T-shirt, pulling her slightly closer to him and deepening their kiss, the pressure between her lips hot and wet.

Simone didn't understand why that -beautiful- boy was kissing her. Not even Clarence had that interest. Clarence. For a moment, he was no longer there in her mind, like if she forgot of him. She imagined what his reaction would be if he knew she was kissing Isidore, if he would feel jealous...

Their lips part in a soft smack, but they remained with their foreheads touching, Isidore with a small smile on his lips. Simone had her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She already had boyfriends in school before, she'd kissed before... but this... this was totally different.

"Kiss again!" a fairy said to Isidore's, flying up his head. Isidore smiled, only he being able to hear that. Fairies were pretty sassy little beings, he knew well, having dated one before.

"We should go back to the Institute" Isidore said, in a soft provocative voice.

"Yes... "Simone agreed, still confused and drunk for the moment "We should."

--------------------------------------

[poppyprincessposts]

A Quiet Night

maleTzimisce!OC x femGhoul!OC

Summary: A Tzimisce and his ghoul enjoy a quiet night together. 

Word count: 3k +

Please be aware that this story contains topics that might be triggering to some. 

The story includes mentions of blood drinking and light anxiety. 

This is a work of fiction based on the table top roleplaying game Vampire: The Masquerade. None of described ideas about the World Of Darkness belong to me.

The idea for the story and its characters are however part of my own imagination.

The car doesn’t seem to acknowledge the young woman at all as it drives past her at high speed. Eloise tries to take a few steps back but the water from the large puddle in front of her on the road splashes against her legs anyway. Even through the fabric of her jeans, the cold sensation makes her gasp. They had already been wet from the falling rain but now they were properly soaked. She had kept her umbrella open, despite it not providing her with much shelter from the harsh weather. Now though, she decides that it is useless. Eloise sighs and closes the umbrella. Just a bit further to the old brick building she calls her home. Her pace quickens and thoughts of a warm shower take over her mind. Keeping her head low to protect her face from the rain, Eloise now starts jogging towards the end of the road and the small forrest that awaits there. 

Any other person would not just run towards the dark and tree filled area ahead. The streetlights that usually illuminate every corner of the pavement are now less frequent.  With the city becoming smaller behind her, Eloise now sees the large gate between the trees and opens her bag to look for her keys. She can feel eyes on her. Of course there‘s someone watching. They always are. ‚It‘s for your own safety, Eloise‘, she can hear his voice say in her head. Deep down Eloise knows he means well. But she might never get used to the feeling of eyes and ears following her every move. She turns the key and pushes the gate open. The metal creaks and seems to protest against her wet hands. Turning around Eloise pushes the gate closed again, using her body weight to make the lock snap back in place. As she turns back around the lights of the driveway turn on one by one leading her up to the victorian mansion. A smile creeps onto her face. Her domitor had insisted on having lights installed after he found out that Eloise had to use a flashlight to get through the forest at night. The darkness was never a problem to him but with a mortal now living with him, he found it to be a nessecary adjustment. 

Now that trees protect Eloise from the rain, she slows down and lets her eyes wander through the trees. There‘s not much that can be seen at this time in autumn. But she knows what lays there in the pitch black. In the beginning, the thought of walking through a cemetery every day made her uncomfortable, let alone having to live next to it. But with time she found peace at the sight of the gravestones. It made Eloise feel calm to know that someone found their final resting place so close to her home. 

She once explained this to her friend Clare. They both sat at one of the tables inside the little bakery they both had already spent so many hours waiting tables and selling baked goods. Clare‘s mouth hung open in shock as her hands tightly grip the mug in her hands. 

“There‘s no way you actually mean that!”, she shrieked and her arms flung around so violently that a few drops of tea landed on the blue tiles beneath her. 

Eloise giggled and took another sip of the hot minty beverage. 

“Ellie”, Clare spoke, “that is pure insanity.” 

She dragged out the last syllable to accentuate her point. Eloise shrugged and turned her gaze back to her friend. 

“Well, I guess you won‘t visit me anytime soon?” 

Clare looked at her. Her face crunched up in disgust and then she shook her head slowly from one side to the other. Eloise frowned playfully and put on the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. A moment of silence goes by before both women broke out in laughter that filled out the whole room. 

Her train of thought gets interrupted by a sound of multiple flapping wings. She looks up to the sky above her. She can barely see the flock of small silhouettes that make their way out of the trees and towards the skyline of the city. 

A sudden cold breeze makes Eloise shiver. It‘s motivation enough to keep moving forwards. 

A few steps further the bricks of the extensive building and a small set of stairs that lead to wooden doors appear in front of the young woman. She quickly climbs the stairs before once again grabbing the keys in her bag. 

When Alexander hears the clicking sound of the front door opening, he puts the heavy book down on the small round table next to him. The Tzimisce puts both hands in his lap and stares at the sizzling flames in front of him. The smoke makes it way up inside the walls of the fire place and leaves dark spots on the grey stones. He should tell Lucas to take care of it tomorrow. After all, his ghoul won’t hesitate to clean it up if he tells him to do so. At first Eloise seemed to think that Lucas was simply too scared to see what would happen if he was to refuse Alexanders commands. But by now she must have realised that he does feel fulfilled by serving his domitor. It could be his vitae that is running through his veins or perhaps he truly enjoys having the kindred‘s protection and hospitality. Sometimes Alexander likes to make himself believe that the latter is in fact the truth, but he knows better than that. 

The soft footsteps in the hallway to the living room catch the vampire‘s attention once again and he stands up from his spot on the sofa. He makes his way over to the source of the sounds and tries to do so as quietly as he possibly can. When he catches a glimpse of Eloise, a frown appears on his pale face. Eloise stands in the middle of the corridor. Her hair is sticking to the sides of her face and her clothes are drenched. One hand pressed against wall, she‘s standing on one foot while cleaning the shoe on the other.

Eloise‘s face is scrunched up and she seems to have trouble balancing herself. 

“Good evening, Eloise. Do you need help with that ?”, Alexander breaks the silence. 

When Eloise looks up, she sees her domitor leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

She scrunches up the tissue in her hands and stands straight up. 

“Good evening”, the ghoul bows slightly and smiles. Then Eloise looks down her body and starts fidgeting uncomfortably. “I‘m really sorry, Alexander. I cleaned the floor already so the wood won‘t get damaged.”

The vampire looks her up and down before opening his mouth again to speak.

“Oh, I‘m not worried about the wood. I am however worried about your current state.”

Eloise lifts her head to look at Alexander and a slight blush painting her cheeks pink. 

Her eyes shift back to the ground as soon as she meets his everlasting stare. It almost seems like the Tzimisce is looking right through her and into her very soul. His eyes are always cold and unmoving. There‘s no love behind them. But Eloise cannot help but feel warm inside when she‘s around him. It has to be the bond they share because there is no other explanation as to why she would feel this way. A bond has already been established on the first night they met. There was no time to see if a deeper connection could‘ve bloomed between them. A connection without an addiction to a drug that only he can provide. But then again, can a kindred love?

“You should get out of those clothes and into the shower. Put everything over the heater in the bathroom so it can dry overnight.” 

Eloise nods and makes sure to look up again. 

“I will”, she answers while wrapping her arms around herself. 

Now, she can feel the coldness of the house. It feels like ice invading her skin down to her bones. A shiver runs down her spine and she starts shivering slightly.

“Come downstairs when you‘re done and dressed in something warm, will you?”

Eloise is quick to respond to his request “Of course.”

Alexander then pushes himself off the wall and turns around to enter the living space once he emerged from earlier. 

Eloise stands in the hallway for another few second before snapping out of her trance. 

She‘s quick to rush towards the wooden stairs. Every step she climbs comes with a slight creak from beneath her feet. She always wondered how many people must have climbed these stairs before she was even born. In her head they wore fancy dresses and polished shoes. In contrast to this picture in her head, Eloise could feel the weight of her water-soaked pants and hoodie. 

She passes the paintings and sculptures in the long hallway. Worried about the carped, Eloise decided to walk on the wooden floorboards next to it. She quickly enters her room at the end of the long corridor.

Closing the door behind her she quickly sheds herself of her clothing. She feels some sort of excitement when she thinks about what the evening might bring. The sweater is easily pulled over her head, but the pants feel like they had been glued to her legs. After the struggle of getting undressed, Eloise makes her way to the bathroom next door. She loved having her own space. She immediately felt safer when Alexander showed the ghoul her own future living quarters. It is everything she never thought she could have. Paintings on every wall that she refused to take down, even though Alexander had told her to do so if she preferred empty walls. It made Eloise feel honoured to live in a place with so much history. She even kept the furniture since she loved how the matched the aesthetic of the room so perfectly. The only thing that Alexander had changed before she moved in was the bed. He made sure that it fit into the room and that it was larger than the single bed it was to replace.  

The bathroom could only be entered through her room. Eloise could not believe her eyes when she saw the emerald green tiles and the golden faucets. It seemed like a dream to her. A wonderful dream that wasn’t a dream at all. To this day it was hard to believe that this was all hers to use and enjoy. 

Eloise throws all clothing items over the heater in the green tiled room, her underwear included. Everything else could be taken care of tomorrow. The ghoul jumps into the shower and lets the hot water stream wash over her body. She sighs as the warmth slowly engulfs her. It feels like someone is embracing her body fully, keeping her warm and safe. Eloise quickly reaches for her shampoo and begins washing her hair. Her fingers work quickly and efficiently, massaging her scalp. It feels good to wash all the dirt off my body, she thinks to herself as she reaches for the vanilla scented shower gel. It doesn’t take long for Eloise to wash the soap out out of her hair and off her body. She quickly pulls a dark fluffy towel around her body and exits the bathroom. The floor is warm as she makes her way to her closet. The warmth of the shower does not last too long and slowly begins to leave her body again, leaving her shivering in the towel. The ghoul quickly grabs underwear and a pair of leggings with a matching sweatshirt. Upon noticing the wetness on her back, Eloise makes her way back to the bathroom, taking a seat on the closed toilet and grabbing her blow dryer. 

She wasn’t a patient person and in moments like these she got frustrated easily. Her right legs bouncing up and down, Eloise thoughts wandered to Alexander. A cold and dangerous man, as many of his associates seem to think he is. But his ghouls know better. Eloise knows better. He took her in when she had nowhere else to go. That fact alone made her feel fuzzy. She owes him everything. She owes him her life. 

Still seated Eloise begins drying her hair, knowing he would scold her if she came downstairs like this. He always seemed to worry about her. Even the smallest things could make him look upon her with concern laced eyes. In the beginning she thought that he might just be toying with her. Now she feels like he actually cares about her. At least, it was easier and much more comforting to tell herself that. All doubts left her mind when she saw him. It always feels like they never existed to begin with. And oh, she hopes that something inside of him softens whenever they’re together. A weak smile now appears on the ghoul's face. A smile full of desire. A desire for him and him only.

Putting the blow dryer aside, Eloise gets up to look at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks are still red from the hot shower and her hair tidily frames her face. After deciding that she looked presentable enough, Eloise quickly makes her way out of her room, not fully closing the door behind her. She walks down the stairs quickly and it almost feels like she’s levitating off the steps. As she wanders through the hallway downstairs and to the living room of the mansion, her heart starts beating rapidly. Alexander sits on one of the emerald sofas, his back turned to her. She can see his dark hair and one of his arms that rests on the back of the piece of furniture. As soon as Eloise enters the room, he lifts his head and puts a book on the table beside him. His head turns slightly. 

“Please, come in.”

Eloise folds her hands in front of her body and enters the room. It’s considerably warmer in this part of the house. The flames in the fireplace seem to be the cause of this difference in temperature. The ghoul walks up to the sofa her domitor is still seated on. As soon as she’s standing next to him he looks up at her, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Sit down next to me”, he speaks calmly. Eloise steps around his legs and takes a sits down next to him. His eyes watch her, like a predator would watch its prey. Who is she kidding, she is the prey. 

His hand then makes its way to her face and strokes her cheek. The caress is gentle but calculated. Eloise is used to his touch and to the feeling of his skin against hers. Her eyes close and she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

His voice is still calm as he speaks “You’re awfully tense. Are you alright, Ellie?”

There it was. The nickname he proposed to her after a few days of living with him. It almost made her melt in his fingers. She opens her eyes to look at him. His body is now fully turned to face her. 

“I’m alright. I promise.” 

The smile on her face is genuine. They sit there for a little while just looking at each other with exploring eyes and then Alexander’s hand leaves her face slowly. He gets up to walk to the armchair closer to the fire. Eloise tries to hide her disappointment as he sits down. She’s used to see him in this place but it still amazes her every time. He somehow manages to be so close to the hot flames. Eloise had never thought about it until Lucas pointed out that vampires avoid fire like the plague, turning almost animalistic if they get too close to it. The other ghoul was more than surprised since Alexander seemed to be perfectly fine around fire, even sitting right next to it. 

Now, in his chair next to the fireplace, Alexander almost looks angelic. 

He looks at her again before he murmurs “Come here.” 

Eloise doesn’t think twice about his request and gets up to join him. Standing next to him once again he reaches out to take her hand. His cold skin touches her with an unexpected gentleness. 

“I have not had the time to feed tonight.“ His fingers wander from her hand up her arm and down again. Another shiver makes its way down Ellie‘s back. She knows what he wants. And only she can give it to him. 

„Anything you need, Alexander.“ 

He smiles slightly at that, looking up at her again. He seems to be deep in thought for a little while. Eloise doesn‘t move an inch from her spot. 

“I‘d like to try something if you let me, Ellie”, his voice is calm. 

His hand now rests on her elbow. Even through the fabric of her sweatshirt she can feel the coldness of his hand.

“Sure?” It sounds more like a question than a statement and Eloise looks at him with an unsure look.

“Do you trust me?“, he asks looking at her with his dark eyes.

“Yes.” The answer is instant and no doubt can he heard in the ghoul's voice.

Alexander‘s smile widens before he pulls her arm forward and effortlessly pulling her in between his open legs. Both his hands make their way to Ellie‘s hips. He‘s slow in his movements, trying not to startle her. Ellie‘s breath hitches in her throat and she looks down at his hands.This position is new to the ghoul but as soon as she feels his hands on her body she feels relaxed and calm. 

“Still good?“

Eloise looks up at her domitor and nods.

Alexander squeezes her gently before speaking again “I need words.“

“Yes”, Ellie replies quickly.

The vampire then takes his time to stroke her waist, hands wandering up and down her body slowly.

“I’d like you to straddle me. Can you do that? Each leg on one side of my lap.“

Ellie doesn’t hesitate even if she can feel her breath quicken. There’s no doubt that she’s nervous. But she does trust him and she is more than curious to see what he’s going to do next.

His hands still on the ghoul’s hips, Alexander looks at her intently.

“Very good.“

His fingers now wrap around the back of her neck, pulling her forward. Eloise lets herself get pulled closer by him. They’re close now. So close that he can probably feel her rapid heartbeat.

“It’s okay”,Alexander whispers her ear while stroking the back of her head,“I don’t need much tonight. Would you let me?“

Eloise closes her eyes, excitement running through her body.

“Yes, please.“

Alexander smiles and leans down. She gasps as he presses his lips to her neck. It takes a while for her to realise that he’s actually kissing her neck. He kisses down her warm skin agonisingly slow. Eloise tries not to squirm in his lap, whimpering quietly.

After what felt like an eternity, Alexander’s fangs pierce the base of her neck next to her collarbone. She gasps at the sting and squeezes her eyes closed. But shortly after, the pain is gone. It almost feels like it was never even there. All Eloise feel is bliss. Pure bliss. It’s better than anything else she would have called pleasurable. She lost herself in the feeling of his lips against her neck and the warmth now spreading inside her body. She doesn’t even notice how her hands grab the fabric of the vampire’s shirt tightly or his hands that pull her even closer to him. She doesn’t feel anything but pleasure. Nothing could replace this feeling. Nothing could compare to this. Absolutely nothing. 

But the moment is way too short and his lips leave her neck much too quickly. She wants him back, to keep going, to keep drinking. Of course, Eloise knew what the consequences of this act would be. She always scared herself with the thoughts that presented themselves when feedings occurred. 

Eyes still closed Eloise stays in the same position until Alexander grabs her shoulders lightly and pushes her back to take a good look at her. His eyes wander over her face. The ghoul can see that he felt just as satisfied if not more satisfied. 

“Thank you, Ellie.”

His hands grab her cheeks, stroking them with so much care, Eloise could cry from all the joy she was currently feeling. 

And as Alexander then tells Ellie to hold onto him, she obliges and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself close to the kindred again. Alexander then stands up, one arm around Ellie’s backside, the other around her torso with a hand on the back of her head. He starts walking slowly, making his way to the door. The ghoul could barely feel his footsteps. She felt light in his arms. He carried her through the living room dextrously and then climbs the stairs, still holding onto Eloise tightly. He doesn’t talk as he makes his way to Ellies room. Pushing the door open with his foot, Alexander carries his ghoul over to the large bed and slowly lays her down. She then lets go of him and opens her eyes. Her domitor stands above her, a gentle smile on his face. She can feel him stroke her head, from the front to the back getting some of her hair out of her face. Ellies hand shakily moves up and she touches her neck where he had bit her.

“It’s alright. There’s no wound, no blood. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.”

His voice is a whisper, soothing her and making her feel safe. As soon as Eloise realises that she’s laying in her own bed, she lets herself sink even deeper into the cushions.

“Get some rest, Ellie. I’ll get you something to eat. You need to regain your strength. You had a long day after all”, Alexander tells her, still stroking her head.

Ellie panics slightly at his words “N- No. Please, don’t go anywhere. Please don’t go. Please?”

Alexander frowns slightly, touching her forehead for a few seconds. 

“You feel cold, Eloise.”

“Please…” Ellie’s voice is barely a whisper. She feels embarrassed for begging him to stay and embarrassed for the tears in her eyes. She shouldn’t be crying. But she felt so weak, so exhausted and she didn’t want to be alone. Not now. 

Alexander now sits down on the bed next to Eloise. 

“Ellie, breathe. You’re alright. Just breathe. It’s alright, I’ll stay here.”

Eloise sobs but smiles at his words. Of course, she knew that this was only the version of the vampire that she could see. An illusion of the monster that he truly must be. He was feared by many and she was aware of the powers he possessed. He could hurt her if he wanted to. He could kill her if he wanted to. But right here and right now, she wanted nothing more than him.

“Can you just stay a little bit? I’ll eat something afterwards, I promise.”

“Yes”, Alexander answers,”I’ll stay.”

Eloise instinctively grabs the hand on her forehead, pulling it to her chest. 

Alexander’s hand wraps around hers tightly. He gets up from his spot besides her. For a second Eloise thinks that he might leave after all but he does the opposite of that.

The kindred lays down next to her on the bed, pulling her close so her head is on his chest. He’s cool against her but her sweatshirt and leggings keep her relatively warm.

Alexander grabs a blanket from the other side of the bed, his long arm effortlessly grabbing the soft material. He pulls it over the both of them, making sure Ellie is fully covered. 

Seeing her like this made him feel some sort of pride. She was his and his alone. He would keep her here with him for as long as she may live and if anyone lays even as much as a finger on his prized possession, he will destroy them. Here in his arms, she was safe. It’s where she needs to be. The beast inside him stirs every time he stops drinking from her for the night. It wants him to finish the job, to take all of her life essence. But he bites back at the voice in his head. Killing her would mean to lose her and he could never let that happen.

She was his now and his tomorrow. She was his for the rest of his unlife. And nothing could ever prevent him from claiming her as his, over and over again. 

Eloise feels like she’s in a trance. She was somewhere far away from all the troubles that had been on her mind before. All the stress and anxiety from the day are now seemingly seeping out of her. And for once, everything is fine and nothing hurts. 

Hi there!

Thank you so much for reading!

Please let me know what you think. I’m always happy to get some feedback for my writing :)!

My requests are open!

Sorces:

Divider: https://pin.it/6XbCNpV

[dandylion240]

“I hope so,” she wasn’t sure why she had confided in Adam’s stepmom but it was comforting to know someone knew besides herself. Kind of like the truth was out there and somehow it would work its way to Adam. Not that she believed in such nonsense.

Jean smiled at the girl. She had seen the way she had glanced at Adam. The way she was so willing to take his side. How she blamed herself for not protecting him. The girl was as much in love with him as Adam was in love with her. On that, Jean would stake her life. “Let’s make some snacks to take with us,” Jean suggested moving towards the kitchen while the two men discussed how best to approach Windy.

“Ok,” Clare sighed, giving the mean a wistful glance as if she hoped they’d change their mind and give her a more active role to play than bystander.

[jtownraindancer]

Found an Associated Press article about the decision! [Full text below the cut]

By MARY CLARE JALONICK Updated 9:24 PM EDT, September 18, 2023

WASHINGTON (AP) — The stuffy Senate is now a bit less formal.

Majority Leader Chuck Schumer said Monday that staff for the chamber’s Sergeant-at-Arms — the Senate’s official clothes police — will no longer enforce a dress code on the Senate floor. The change comes after Pennsylvania Sen. John Fetterman has been unapologetically wearing shorts as he goes about his duties, voting from doorways so he doesn’t get in trouble for his more casual attire.

“There has been an informal dress code that was enforced,” Schumer said in a statement. “Senators are able to choose what they wear on the Senate floor. I will continue to wear a suit.”

Schumer did not mention Fetterman in his statement about the dress code, which will only apply to senators, not staff.

The changes prompted outrage from some of the chamber’s more formal members, eroding a bit of the good will that first-term Fetterman had earned earlier this year when he checked himself into the hospital for clinical depression. He won bipartisan praise for being honest about his diagnosis, which came in the wake of a stroke he suffered on the campaign trail last year. When he returned from treatment, he started donning the more casual clothes, which he says make him more comfortable.

Kansas Sen. Roger Marshall, a Republican, said it’s a “sad day in the Senate” and that the people who Fetterman and Schumer represent should be embarrassed.

“I represent the people of Kansas, and much like when I get dressed up to go to a wedding, it’s to honor the bride and groom, you go to a funeral you get dressed up to honor the family of the deceased,” Marshall said. Senators should have a certain level of decorum, he added.

Republican Sen. Susan Collins of Maine agreed, arguing that the relaxed rules debase the institution of the Senate. “I plan to wear a bikini tomorrow to the Senate floor,” Collins joked.

Walking to Monday evening’s vote in a short-sleeved button-down shirt and shorts, Fetterman said he wasn’t sure if he’d take advantage of the new rules just yet.

“It’s nice to have the option, but I’m going to plan to be using it sparingly and not really overusing it,” he said.

Asked about the criticism, Fetterman feigned mock outrage.

“They’re freaking out, I don’t understand it,” he said of his critics. “Like, aren’t there more important things we should be working on right now instead of, you know, that I might be dressing like a slob?”

When Fetterman reached the Senate floor, he still voted from the doorway. “Baby steps,” he told reporters as he got on the elevator to go back to his office.

Not all Republicans were upset about the change. Missouri Sen. Josh Hawley was wearing jeans, boots and no tie on Monday evening, an outfit he says he normally wears when he flies in from his home state for the first votes of the week.

“Now I can vote from the Senate floor on Mondays,” Hawley said, noting that he usually wears a suit and tie every other day.

Nearby, Connecticut Sen. Chris Murphy was also tieless. The Democrat said he’s been reprimanded by Sergeant-at-Arms staff in the past for not wearing a tie on the floor.

“They would tell us when we were doing it wrong,” Murphy said.

It’s unclear if the rules for more formal attire were actually written down anywhere, but Schumer’s directive means that staff will no longer scold senators for their choice of clothing or ask them to vote from the doorway.

For Fetterman, his signature hoodies and gym shorts were a sign of his recovery. Before he checked himself into the hospital, his staff had asked him to always wear suits, which he famously hates. But after a check with the Senate parliamentarian upon his return in April, it became clear that he could continue wearing the casual clothes that were often his uniform back at home in Pennsylvania, as long as he didn’t walk on to the Senate floor. He still wears suits to committee meetings when they are required.

In recent weeks, the Pennsylvania senator has become more comfortable joking around in the hallways and answering reporters’ questions. His words are still halting sometimes due to his stroke and an auditory processing disorder that makes it harder to speak fluidly and process spoken conversation. He uses iPads and iPhones in conversations that transcribe spoken words in real time.

“I think we should all want to be more comfortable,” Fetterman told a group of reporters on Monday. “And now we have that option, and if people prefer to wear a suit, then that’s great.”

___

Associated Press writer Kevin Freking contributed to this report.

I had no opinion on government dress codes before 24 hours ago, but my mind has been changed by the sheer magnitude of raw fury that has been unleashed among the professional conservative class in response to the ruling that Sen. Fetterman is allowed to wear shorts and a hoodie on Capitol Hill. It has been driving them crazy. I have been negatively polarized into the belief that we should ban suits and jackets entirely

[thegreatunknowablething]

Day 1 - Clare

Clare’s hammock was strung up between two trees in the common area of the Fallowfield Sudent Housing block. A comfortingly warm day, most other students had left the complex, venturing down to the Manchester city center or hopping on the train to trade the industrial metropolis for a more idyllic scene for the weekend. Her roommate Sofia, an Argentinian economics student, had sent around a PDF on their dorm block’s WhatsApp group inviting everyone to her annual “boliche en el campo” with a garish pink font plastered over a screenshot of an AirBnb listing in the Lake District. Not content with being the reason for many of the noise complaints directed to the University of Manchester’s student conduct board, she was determined to wreak havoc in the English countryside as well. Clare had wished her well, but chose instead to stay behind.

Around her was the noise of life lived without haste. Strains of music, discordantly mingling in the courtyard, came from open dorm room windows. A fly crawled on her jeans, making a circle around her left kneecap as it explored the denim for something useful. Occasionally it would take off, flitting around and buzzing by her ear before settling again on the faded blue patch. She thought about stretching her leg or leaning forward to swat it away, but the fly wasn’t hurting anyone. Who was she to get in its way.

The music in her headphones paused, replaced by the sound of an incoming phone call. It was a harsh trill and Clare grimaced as her fingers fumbled at the edges of her pocket, trying to reach her phone so that she could turn down the volume. Pulling it from her pocket, Clare glanced at the screen to see who was calling. Howard followed by a string of emojis scrolled across the screen. She declined the call, her good mood evaporating. She had been going out with Howard for three months and, while she enjoyed his company, could even see a world where she ended up loving him, she was getting bored. Of him. Of tedious conversations over sushi. Of his awful band and the songs he kept writing for her, or rather, about her. The band, Gaping Assholes, was set to play at a dive bar in the warehouse district that night and she hoped to avoid him until then. She saw a message from Howard appear on her phone but swiped it away. She could read it later. She could pretend to be napping. She could just turn off her phone and throw it in a well and never have to answer a message again in her whole life.

As soon as she had closed her eyes and settled back into the hammock the phone rang again. She peeked at the screen ready to decline, but saw that it was Sofia. She tapped the side of her earphone to answer.

“What?” she grumbled.

“Holy shit Clare, I mean holy shit,” Sofia sounded breathless, excited. 

“I’m not coming to your party Sofia, I don’t care who showed up or what sort of gimmick you have. You’re not going to convince me.”

“No no Clare it’s not the party, but also yes you should come out, skip Howard’s dumb show. You’ve got to come see what I just found by the lake. It’s just - it’s - I can’t explain it, you have to come see.”

“This isn’t going to work Sofia. Just tell me what it is or send me a picture or something.”

“It’s like, I mean, it’s huge for one thing, it’s just, it’s just — I can’t describe it. It’s undescribable.”

“In”

“What?”

“It’s indescribable. You said un.”

“Is it? Okay well exactly and I mean I wish I could just take a picture and send it to you but I’ve tried and it’s like the image bends around what’s there. It’s unphotographable.” She paused to breath. “Or I mean inphotographable.”

“How high are you right now?”

“Very high.”

“Ok well call me when you’re not. I’m enjoying myself here thank you very much.”

Clare hung up but the damage had been done. Her mood was shattered. She figured Sofia was messing with her, trying some last ditch attempt to get her to take the train out for the weekend. Part of her wished she had, that she had just skipped Howard’s show and gone to the lake. She thought about Howard, about the text unread and unanswered on her phone. She knew there was an expiration date on their relationship but figured she could put it off a bit longer, like milk that had just begun to smell but throwing it out would feel like too big of a waste. She got out of the hammock and began to untie its supports from the trees. 

[books-i-finished-reading]

(25)

City of Fallen Angels - Cassandra Clare

( The mortal instruments - book 4/6 )

24th March 2023

Her big dark eyes were alive suddenly, the way they only ever came alive when she was either hunting demons or thinking about hunting demons.

"... evil lawn gnomes."

"By the Angel, you don't know anything about your kind, do you? Do you even really know how vampires are made?" "Well, when a mommy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much. . ."

"You cannot hide your true self forever."

Alec and Magnus standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, Alec wearing jeans as usual and Magnus wearing a striped fisherman's sweater, leather pants, and an insane beret. In the Boboli Gardens, Alec was still wearing jeans, and Magnus was wearing an enormous Venetian cloak and a gondolier's hat. He looked like the Phantom of the Opera. In front of the Prado he was wearing a sparkling matador jacket and platform boots, while Alec appeared to be calmly feeding a pigeon in the background. "I'm taking that away from you before you get to the India part," said Jace, retrieving his phone. "Magnus in a sari. Some things you don't ever forget."

... he wondered, not idly, if eventually the dreams would kill him.

"I always dream about you."

"Sometimes I dream you're gone," ... "I keep wondering when you'll figure out how much better you could do and leave me."

... underneath the protective armour of humour and pretended arrogance, the ragged shards of memory and childhood still tore at him.

Normally she would have been excited to learn how to kill things with her bare hands.

"Blood calls to blood, under the skin. But love and blood are not the same."

You couldn't change the past. You could only go forward.

... he'd always liked traveling, because being in a new place had meant being away from all his problems.

"I hate dresses. I'd wear jeans to the wedding if I could."

"Clearly," said Luke, "something is going on that I don't know about." Simon looked over at him. "Sometimes I think that's the motto of my life."

"What's this?" "That's a mango." Simon stared at Jace. ... "I don't think I've ever seen one of those that wasn't already cut up," Jace mused. "I like mangoes." Simon grabbed the mango and tossed it into the cart. "Great. What else do you like?" Jace pondered for a moment. "Tomato soup," he said finally. "Tomato soup? You want tomato soup and a mango for dinner?" Jace shrugged. "I don't really care about food."

"Power is a magnet. It draws those who desire it. ..."

... her almost total lack of interest in other people's problems...

... an immovable wall of female rage.

"... I watch my brothers give their hearts away and I think, Don't you know better? Hearts are breakable. ..."

"... I swear on us." ... "Why us?" "Because there isn't anything I believe in more."

In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.

"... If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me."

"You could give me the past," ... "But Alec is my future."

... was she actually happy, or just smiling through the pain?

"... beautiful things are so easily broken by the world."

... staring ferociously into the distance.

"... You can't forget the things you did in the past, or you'll never learn from them."

"She said pretty boys were your undoing," Alec said. "Which makes it sound like I'm just one in a long line of toys for you. One dies or goes away, you get another one. I'm nothing. I'm-trivial." "Alexander-" "Which," Alec went on, staring down at the table again, "is especially unfair, because you are anything but trivial for me. I changed my whole life for you. But nothing ever changes for you, does it? I guess that's what it means to live forever. Nothing ever really has to matter all that much." ... Magnus stood up. "But," he added, pausing by Alec's chair and leaning in close to him, "you are not trivial." Alec flushed. "If you say so," he said. "I say so," said Magnus, ...

"Satrina is one of the seventeen names of Lilith, ..." said Alec. ... "And you have all seventeen names committed to memory?" Jordan sounded dubious. Alec gave him a cold look. "Who are you again?"

"I am not a man. I have no male pride for you to trick me with, ... That is entirely a weakness of your sex, not mine. I am a woman. I will use any weapon and all weapons to get what I want."

"Not really alive' isn't dead enough for me,"

Feeling unutterably lonely among the milling crowd...

"... I pictured having you for fifty, sixty more years. I thought I might be ready then to let you go. But it's you, and I realize now that I won't be any more ready to lose you then than I am right now." He put his hands gently to either side of Alec's face. "Which is not at all." "So what do we do?" Alec whispered. ... "What everyone does," he replied. "Like you said. Hope."

"... The more you try to crush your true nature, the more it will control you. Be what you are. No one who really loves you will stop."

Your faith in me is the best thing in my life, and I can't bear to destroy it.

His heart pounding as if it wants to leave his body and take up independent residence somewhere else.

[sebstanns]

Deserve

Summary: You broach a tricky subject with Bucky. Recovering / soft Bucky x female reader. Angst / fluff / smut.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Unprotected sex. Language.

A.N: I kept meaning to write for Steve but this happened. I usually write for Boyd Holbrook characters on my sideblog - Masterlist.

I didn’t tag anybody but let me know if you’d like to be, possibly a part 2 or a prequel to this. I’d like to thank @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook​ for her constructive feedback! It’s my first time writing for Bucky so please be kind!

Your heart skips a beat when you see Bucky waiting outside your office building, holding a bunch of flowers no less. He's awkwardly leaning against a wall, eyes darting around searching for you.

"You shouldn't have." You smile as you approach him.

"I was just passing." He murmurs, cheeks flushing as you kiss him.

"Passing a flower stall too?" You ask, accepting the blooms.

"Yeah, I guess so." He smiles.

"Mr Barnes, sorry to bother you." A voice pipes up. You turn and vaguely recognise the guy, you've seen him in the office building. What does he want with Bucky though?

Bucky eyes him warily. "Do I know you?"

"Oh no, I'm uh....I'm a big fan." the guy stammers, starting to sweat.

"So you're a fan of my work as the Winter Soldier or...”

"No no, I mean since then. Saving the world and everything."

"Sure, thanks." Bucky sighs.

You kind of feel for the guy, Bucky wasn't exactly known for accepting compliments, you know that better than anyone.

"Hey, can I get a selfie?" the guy asks, pulling out his phone.

"He's off duty, sorry." You say diplomatically, taking Bucky’s arm. "Let's get going."

"I'll never get used to that, " Bucky mumbles, as you steer him away from his fan. "I spent so much effort trying to hide and now..." He trails off.

"You saved the world, that's what people know you for now." You say, determined to put a positive spin on things.

"It wasn't just me." He says, as you cross the street. He moves his arm and grabs your hand instead, squeezing lightly. He's wearing gloves as is usual in public, concealing his gleaming hand in black leather.

You fall into a companionable silence as you head in the direction of your apartment. You can't help noticing that you're taking the route that happens to pass Bucky's favourite diner - where you first met in fact, a little over four months ago.

"Feel like coffee and pie?" He asks casually.

You grin at his predictability. "Sure."

Your flowers sit on the table in a kindly donated water jug as you and Bucky tuck into pie and ice cream, apple and cherry respectively.

"This...is...the...best...pie." Bucky says between mouthfuls.

"I knew you were going to say that." You tease.

He smiles, his eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners. Oh, he seems so happy and relaxed, you impulsively decide to broach a tricky subject, figuring now to be a good a time as any.

"So, you know my sister's getting married in a couple of weeks." You begin, glancing at him as you toy with your food.

Bucky's eyes flicker and he fills his mouth with pie. "Hm-hmm." He mumbles.

You take a deep breath. "Well, I was wondering if you'd consider coming with me, as my plus one?"

He pales a little and offers a tentative smile. "I don't know sweetheart."

"Clare wants to meet you, that's all. You don't even have to stay for the full day, just to say hello."

"Sounds more like a family thing." Bucky says tightly, shifting in his seat.

"Well yeah," you swallow, feeling yourself flush. "But you are my....I mean..."

He sighs. "I don't think it's a good idea, you saw what happened outside your office. Imagine that times a hundred."

"Everyone will be focused on the wedding, my family won't bug you, I promise. They aren’t like that.”

Bucky scoffs. “You might be surprised how brave people get after a couple glasses of champagne.”

You sigh impatiently, feeling something inside you break. "What are we doing here Bucky?"

"I thought we were eating pie." He half-smiles.

"You know what I mean. Us." You hated to push him like this, you really did, and you already knew that he wouldn’t react favourably to it, but your developing relationship had seemed to come to a standstill lately.

"We agreed to take things slowly, didn’t we? One day at a time." He says quietly, reaching for your hand.

"But that was four months ago, I thought that we might have progressed beyond that by now. It's like one step forward two steps back with you." You say, your voice cracking with emotion.

"You're not my shrink, ok?" He snaps suddenly.

You slide your hand away from his and reach for your bag, tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm going home." You say softly..

"Don't go, please. I'm sorry." He says, looking up at you, a note of quiet desperation in his voice.

"Enjoy your pie." You sniff, not looking at him. You’re halfway home before you realise that you've left the flowers on the table.

X - X - X

By the time you get home you're angry with yourself more than anything else, cursing the fact that you even mentioned the wedding. You had agreed to take things slowly, but the truth is that you’re falling for Bucky and you want him to be a bigger part of your life. The wedding seemed like the ideal opportunity to introduce him to your friends and family, but on reflection, you realise how overwhelming it might be.

Half an hour later when there's a knock at the door, you know that it's Bucky. He's carrying the flowers, still in the water jug.

"The waitress said we could have this, I think she just felt sorry for me." He chuckles dryly, following you into the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the image of him walking down the street with the flowers.

"I'm sorry." You murmur, setting the flowers on your coffee table.

"Why are you sorry? I was a jerk back there." Bucky frowns.

"I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

"You weren't pushing." He sighs.

"I spooked you.” You say softly, looking up at him.

"Yeah." He smiles. "A little. Look, I’m still trying to figure this out."

"I know. Me too. I've never been in a relationship like this."

"I should hope not." He says wryly.

You chuckle, fighting the urge to just throw youself into his arms.

"I like you, so much." Bucky murmurs, his eyes searching yours as he strokes your face. "But I can't help thinking that you'd be better off with someone else."

Your stomach drops. "No, Bucky-”

"I mean like someone who doesn't get spooked when you want to do regular relationship stuff, it's not fair on you." He says, brow furrowed.

"Look, forget the wedding, I'll ask one of my friends to come."

"It's not just the wedding though is it?" He sighs.

“I don’t want anybody else.” You state firmly, placing your hand on his chest - you can feel his ever present dog tags through the thin material of his sweater.

"You've been so patient with me, it's more than I deserve."

"This is what you deserve." You say, and kiss him gently on the cheek. "And this." then corner of his mouth. "And this." finally the hollow of his throat.

He lets out a soft groan and grips the nape of your neck, kissing you deeply, opening your mouth with his tongue. He tastes of cherry and vanilla, his lips soft but insistent.

"I want you." He breathes. "I want you."

Without a word, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. Bucky was so gentle and hesitant when you first started sleeping together, terrified of hurting you with his strength and self-conscious of his arm. You managed to convince him that you could take - even sometimes desired - a little roughness. He loved to take his time undressing you, kissing and touching your soft flesh as he went. And when you reciprocated, he'd been touch starved for so long that the feeling of your hands and lips on him was almost enough.

Tonight he didn't deviate, pulling off your clothes and kissing you everywhere as you laid on the bed. He hovers over you, still half dressed, and you stroke his hair, fingers entwined in the short strands as his lips travel down your body, making you squirm. Finally he kneels between your legs and tugs at your panties, eyes dark with lust.

"James." You sigh, touching yourself, wetness coating your fingertips.

"You're so beautiful." He says gruffly, eyes focused on you as he removes his jeans. You'd seen him naked a number of times now but you never failed to be impressed by his magnificence, even his cock, now hard and leaking at the tip, is a thing of beauty.

You hold your hand out for him to return to the bed but his hands reach for your waist, indicating for you to turn over; you comply and he moves behind you, lifting your hips and pushing into you in one swift movement. You cry out as he fills and stretches your pussy, digging your fingers into the mattress as you back up against him.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" He growls.

"Yes, please...don't stop." You mewl, as he buries his cock to the hilt.

Bucky’s flesh hand is between your legs, fingering your aching clit, while his metal one still grips your hip. You place your hand over his, interlacing your fingers with his vibranium digits.

The rhythmic clink of Bucky's dog tags and the sound of your soft cries fill the air, he continues to work your clit in tight circles as he moves inside you, leaning down to pepper kisses on your shoulder - it isn't long before you feel the familiar tightness building at your core.

"Oh, Bucky, I'm going to-" you trail off as he drives into you harder, making you come apart and you moan loudly as your orgasm rolls through you in hot waves.

Compared to you, Bucky's almost silent, quietly panting and groaning, his hold on you tightening as you feel him throbbing into you.

Afterwards he spoons you, his bionic arm around your waist like a vice, kissing your hair.

"Look, about the wedding-" He starts.

"We don't have to talk about it now." You yawn. “Let’s leave it until tomorrow. One day at a time.”

“One day at a time.” Bucky repeats, softly.

[sleepysloth99]

House of Ashes Cast in Quarantine (ft Clarice, Joey, and Merwin) Part 2 of ???

Merwin: "I'M NOT MARVIN AND FOR THE RECORD HIGH GUARDIAN SPICE IS TRASH."

Rachel: "You're trash. Your point?"

Jason: "Maybe I should just... Okay I muted Merwin and Rachel."

Rachel: Agh you bitch! Time to call my Discord Mod husband. @ Colonelcob I got muted :(

Merwin: Course Eric a Discord Mod.

Rachel: "HAHA MOMMY'S BACK BITCHES! HOPE YOU DIDN'T MISS ME TOO MUCH."

Eric: "Course we missed you. One sec Rach."

Jason: Hey! You muted me! >:(

Rachel: "Ha! How does it feel Jason? I can't hear you, speak up."

Jason: Rachel is such a (not nice dregatory word that I will not say because Discord Mod Eric is not sleeping.🤫) mean person.

Rachel: "Yes I am. Thanks Eric."

Eric: "Anytime Rach."

Merwin: "Course Rachel is a Discord kitten."

Rachel: "Excuse me? Last time I checked you were the one kissing a girl's ass (an egirl at that!) for nitro. I don't wanna hear anything from you Marvin."

Merwin: BITCH FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME SHZHEJSJ STOP SAYING MARVIN.

Eric: "Merwin is on thin ice."

Merwin: Eric stfu and go back to cuddling you Jean bodypillow.

Eric: "That's it, you're on time out."

Nick: "Haha, Merwin hit a nerve and now he's on timeout. Funniest shit ever."

Jason: "Smh. My head."

Nick: "Jason, I know you did not just say that in real life. Also who's playing Britney Spears?"

Salim: "Me. Figured we need to chill for a second."

Rachel: "Shut up everyone, I'm listening to Britney Spear's 'Toxic' through Salim's low quality mic."

Salim: "Rachel leave me alone, not everyone has a Twitch streamer quality mic."

Jason: "Thank god I have two of them. When are we streaming again?"

Salim: "We can do it right now if you want."

Jason: "Salim, it's 2:36 am right now."

Salim: "So? You're only 10 minutes away from me."

Jason: "Mm... okay. We're gonna go stream. Night guys."

Salim: "Yup. Bye."

Nick: "I might watch your stream. Night guys."

Rachel: "Night you two!"

Eric: "Night-night."

Clarice: "Send me your Twitch. Good night!"

Rachel: "Oh my god, you're alive!"

Eric: "I just realized, Clarice's mic was on for the past 9 hours and she didn't say a thing."

Clarice: "Yeah, I fell asleep."

Rachel: "On mic?"

Eric: "Ha. Funny. Well I hope you slept well. Also where's Merwin?"

Clarice: "Probably crying cause the egirl didn't pick him."

Rachel: "Ha! Good one Clare."

Clarice: "Thank you Queen!"

Eric: "Why don't I have a nickname."

Clarice: "Discord Mod."

Eric: "Am I really that bad? I'm a good mod."

Nick: "Oh my god guys he is not like the other mods! He's different... he's quirky."

Eric *laughing*: "Fuck off Nick. You're literally a furry."

Nick: "How???"

Eric: "You like Night in the Woods. Furry. You probably want Bea as a goth girlfriend."

Nick: "Ew no. She's a well written character. I haven't gone that mad from quarantine... unlike some people..."

Eric: "What's that supposed to mean?!"

Nick: "You! You went from a colonel with a stick up his ass to an ex-colonel whining about Jean's thighs in Genshin Impact. Genshin Impact of all games! *Sighhh*... I guess you either die a hero or live to become a villain."

Clarice: "Eric villain ark when?"

Eric: "Never. Heros live on."

Nick: "Eric shut up, you're probably a Light Yagami kinnie."

Eric: "That's outstragous. It's not my fault I'm better than everyone. Like I'm sorry you're so inferior to me. Sorry I'm kinda having a power trip here."

Rachel: "Bitches say things like this and wonder why I contemplated divorce."

Nick: "Well if your marriage ever flops... I'll be there for you--"

Rachel: "Thanks Nick."

Nick: "I was talking to Eric. Homies help homies."

Clarice: "Baha!"

Rachel: "Wowww the audacity."

(Might make a spinoff of Salim and Jason's twitch gaming)

~To be continued~

[supercalime]

TMI Graphic Novels Volumes 1-4 commentary

Volume 1:

- gosh Cassandra jean’s artwork is breathtaking isn’t it

- The little text from Cassandra Clare is so cute

- Geez, Izzy’s dress is a CHOICE

- I love how alec and Jace aren’t even trying to blend in with the crowd, I mean, sure they can’t be seen, but still

- Not having clary’s inner monologue makes her so much more likable, huge upgrade

- Hodge looks so much like a backstabber lol

- Alec in that oversized sweater is so cute

- Oh landline phones…

- Madam Dorothea is serving looks and I’m here for it

- I forgot how scary looking the silent brothers are, it’s like they are out of a wrong turn movie or something

- Why are they calling the city of bones “bone city”? It sound like a bad pun about sex lol

- Jace, honey, the falcon story is not a bed time story… it’s just sad and you need therapy

- Clary, what do you mean ‘tell jace’? You can’t just out people because you don’t think being gay is a big deal. Gosh… protagonists…

- Magnus!!!

- I forgot Simon turns into a rat! This book is crazy yall

Volume 2:

- Jace getting stabbed by Magnus’ words is so visually pleasing (can you tell I don’t care about him that much?)

- Raphael!!! My aroace king!!!

- I know we all appreciate Cassandra jean’s character designs (as we should) but I don’t see enough praise for her environment designs for the graphic novel. It’s breathtaking and so detailed

- Okay, I know conflict is inevitable (and I read COB so long ago I forgot how things went) but jace? What the hell? “It might be wise to mention you already have a man in your bed” she doesn’t own you shit, bucko

- And surely enough, Simon is also a little bitch about it. Gosh, triangles suck

- Hodge sucks, valentine sucks, everyone sucks

- Not you Magnus, you’re perfect, please carry on

- And so the pseudo incest storyline begins…

- Jace is so brainwashed by valentine, I honestly feel bad for him

Volume 3:

- malec cover? Malec cover.

- “Mostly extinct is not extinct enough!” I agree alec

- Maia! The, without a shadow of a doubt, most underrated main character in tsc

- Jace, you can’t say that all downworlders look the same, I’m pretty sure that’s racist

- Yeah… he fell…on his neck

- The passageway to the seelie realm is so cool

- The seelie queen loves some drama. I bet she’s into some weird fanfiction as well

- There’s no way to reverse Simon becoming a vampire…unless Cassandra Clare pulls up some random Mcguffin out of her ass so this character gets even further unrecognizable

- Jace has no chill. Everyone should stop outing their friends

- Yeah jace, join valentine, what could go wrong?

Volume 4:

- Here we have another of thousands of moments where clary is mean to another girl just cause.

- Dude, robert’s biceps tho!

- I love that one of jace’s special powers is jumping really high

- Every time I see max my heart sinks. I know what’s gonna happen and I’m not looking forward to it

- Again, Robert…miss Jean had no business drawing him that attractive, what the hell

- Clary and Jace, can you keep it on pants please? You still think you’re siblings, this is repulsive

- The boat scene is very cinematic, I really like it

- Simon sucking jace’s blood looked a little sexual…just sayin

- I love plot convenience! No I don’t

[fiendish-insanity-in-the-written]

Clare Archer (OC)

Name : Clare Archer

Date of Birth (& age): 11. September 1995 (25)

Gender: Female

Language: English

Family/Friends/Pets/Etc: Lives with her mother and two half sisters, she is the oldest child

____________________________________________________________ Physical Description

Height: 5′ 9′‘

Weight: 62 kg

Hair: Long, blood red, slightly curly

Eyes: Dark,emerald green with brown spots on the irises

Detailed Physical Description: Athletically built because of her love for athletics and martial arts, and she prefers judo. Long legs with wider hips, thin waist and long elegant arms. Prominent cheekbones and jaw, delicate facial features. Big rosy lips, long black lashes. She has several tattoos: a red and black tattoo of a Japanese demon mask on her shoulder blade, a black snake decorated with miniatures that climbs around her thigh all the way to her groin, a set of small demon skulls on her ribs.

Typical Clothing/Equipment: Usually dark clothes. Black jeans and grey top with a Harley Davidson leather jacket .

Personality/Attributes ____________________________________________________________

Personality/Attitude: Manipulative, very patient, sometimes comes off as aggressive, can play sweet and innocent when needed. Clare is a tortured soul and product of her sinister past. At first she will seem soulless, unwelcoming and somewhat an asshole, but her core is pure and has nothing but goodness. Her personality heavily depends on ‘character development’, in other words, in time spent with her, she will change accordingly. However, if you are aiming to really connect with her, it will be a long and painful process, and by painful I mean - it will take a lot of nerves and patience.

Skills/Talents: very good in martial arts, excessive knowledge in the field of biology and chemistry, high IQ and infiltrating skills

Favorites/Likes: ancient books with dark contents, rock music, dissection of people, playing with animals

Most Hated/Dislikes: animal cruelty

Goals/Ambitions: *depends on the role play*

Strengths: physical endurance

Weaknesses: if she gets emotionally attached to someone, she can become subjected to that person

Fears: narrow spaces, being buried alive

Hobbies/Interests: riding a motorbike, partying, studying the dark subjects

Philosophy of Life: Hell is here, devils are walking the earth, find the worst one and make him yours.

Attitude Toward Death: “As long as it is not me.”

Religion/Beliefs: Atheist

Fetishes/Strange Behaviors: sadistic men, being forced into submission, bondage

Occupation: Student of Biology / Scientist

Backstory:

Clare was born in a small town with not so loving family. Her mother was not particularly interested in raising children since she only had them by accident.She was a gold digger, a woman only interested in what a man can provide. Clare was her first “mistake”. Forced to learn how to take care of herself from a young age, she was constantly been fed lies from the people around her. Her biological father was a man who pretended to be interested for the show and others around him not to judge him, breaking promises left and right, and sometimes even forgetting Clare’s name, calling her Carla, Catty... Her father left when she was 5, and died a year later, and her mother re-married 2 more times, having two more children, Clare’s stepsisters Mel and Veronica, true daughters of her mother as they decided to follow in her footsteps, unlike Clare. She was disgusted with the concept of being a gold digger and a mindless toy for money, and her love and interest in complicated topics and dark content made her a black sheep in that family, so much that they openly hated her and casually locked her out side of the house, even when she was only 10. But she did not let them get to her, instead, she trained herself for years to shut down emotionally. The breaking point was when her mother took her to see her fathers grave at the age of 6 on Clare’s request, but the problem was that she left her there and it was just getting dark, telling Clare that she can do her a favor and just lay in to a empty grave that was next to her father’s.

She quickly developed the belief that gentile, love, affection = lies, and similar things are used as tools of manipulation, to get others to do your bidding or making them just useful for your needs. Perfecting her craft, she was using it through life, but her manipulation did not include much of those things, but the tricks of the mind. She gazed upon humanity with disgust in general, seeing only the selfish being and lying individuals, and in that moment she began fantasizing about killers. For her, they were examples of raw, unstained instinct and pointed to much deserved punishment of others that are truly evil. She knew she was no killer, she maybe could manipulate, help with the process of capturing victims, but something in her could not kill, yet she wanted to be part of the punishment. So her goal and plan was to find a killer and drill her way in his mind so she can join him, and finally be around someone who has no need or better said,just has no emotions what so ever, and is only “evil”, so when you know that and can’t expect nothing more, there is no danger of him ever hurting you emotionally.

Beside her plans and childhood, Clare was always a feisty one. Filled with energy and adrenaline. That is why she trained athletics and martial arts, to get the energy out, and built physical endurance plus be sure she can smite down anyone who stands in her way. She takes shit from no one,and even though she will not get physical right away, her sharp tongue will not hesitate to tell you things packed in a nice sarcastic dark humor that will bring you down from your high horse.

The only place where she did not mind people were rock parties and motorcycle conventions, since people there were similar to her. Dangerous from outside but still good from the inside, even though Clare hid her “good” very, very deep.

Although, her good side can come out and that is her weakness. When Clare gets attached to someone, they will find out that behind that wildcat facade hides a cuddling kitten, but those moments are reserved for someone who truly deserves it. Do you dare to try and be the one?

In her collage days, she did manage to get two friends that find her amusing and are not bothered with her flaming temper. Alice and Jake, who stick by her no matter how bad things are. But still, somehow Clare did not show her special good side even to them.

Extra information about Clare:

Clare’s childhood: - Preferences towards books

Clare’s demons: - Nightmare she hopes for

Clare’s jewelry: Blood vial bracelet

[ladyhindsight]

I remember that somewhere (maybe in the Tales, when Simon is training to ascend? Or in the Codex?) it was mentioned that mundanes can choose among the names of extinguished families only.

For example Simon could not choose Herondale, Morgenstern, Lightwood or Blackthorn because there are still heirs to carry on those names.

It rubbed me the wrong way because, if true, it means that Clare basically created and then killed George Lovelace just so that Simon could take that last name (which was also Jessamine's, because as another anon mentioned, Clare's books only stay relevant thanks to nostalgia). Without George, Simon would have had no connection with the name Lovelace and most likely would have chosen something else.

(Also, the whole thing is so contrived? George was a mundane. Mr Lovelace was stripped of his marks and exiled because he married a mundane woman. The two adopted George. So technically the Lovelace line is NOT extinguished, it's just that the Shadowhunters won't accept an exiled Lovelace among their ranks)

Honestly... This whole thing makes no sense?

Like, what's the point in carrying on a specific family name if the bloodline is completely different?

In real life, for example in the case of royalty, blood and family name are strictly intertwined. You can't just choose whatever name you like.

Clare wants us to feel like certain families ARE like Shadowhunter Royalty, and yet she throws bloodlines out of the window.

So long as she gets to use THE SAME DAMN NAMES OVER AND OVER AGAIN, logic doesn't matter.

She's so obsessed with a few family names, that she can't be bothered to make it make sense.

"The Clave is so morally grey and bad!" and yet mundanes can ascend into Shadowhunter Royalty after minimal training? lol sure Jean.

To me, this speaks volumes about how insecure of a writer she is.

It's like she believes that if she doesn't emotionally manipulate readers by using the same names and referencing past characters all the time, no one will buy her books.

And she's most likely right, but still...

She used Jace Herondale in TMI to get people to read about Will Herondale in TID.

Used Jem Carstairs in TID to get people to read about Emma Carstairs in TDA.

Then used both the Herondale and Carstairs names from TID to get people to read TLH.

And in the future she'll use the Blackthorns from TDA to get people to read TWP.

🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Like, what about writing a series about the Pinehollow or Joshi families? Too scared you won't make millions in royalties?

Tbh I think that even the publisher would not buy such a series, because they know it wouldn't make as much money.

^^^^^ Everything about this

Clare wrote about the ascension and name thing on her tumblr too if I remember correctly. The logic here is that there is a finite set of Shadowhunter names, and whether the name is use varies from time to time depending on whether the carrier is still alive or has someone chosen an extinguished name. What if all the names are in use and there is no name to pick? Have the Nephilim considered these names in every language or is just in English? Because, again, there are quite a few names that don’t go by the rule Clare has set for the Nephilim names.

It really seems like George was partly created to sell the nostalgia and partly just to die in order to show that there are High Stakes when it comes to ascending and not everyone survives it. Of course Sophie Lightwood did, there was never such fret about her. The name Lovelace just makes rounds to tie Jessamine, George, and Simon together.

I get the same feeling when it’s always Ithuriel who, at first, was in Tessa’s locket, and then later it was Ithuriel who Valentine summoned and whose blood Valentine used to experiment on Tessa’s descendant. Like, what are the chances that from all of the angels it’s Ithuriel on both occasions having a shittastic time?

The reuse of Shadowhunter names just puts more emphasis on the fact that the name seems to matter more than the person carrying it. Emotional manipulation is at the very core of Clare’s writing, and it is highlighter here also. Not just trying to win sympathies for rather unsympathetic main characters in order to make them seem better than they actually are written, but also trying to evoke some emotional connection readers have with characters bearing the same name.

I mean, if there ever was a secret Lightwood branch, I would probably go hell yeah. I’d be interested to learn more although no such basis exists regarding the Herondales, Carstairses, or Blackthorns to me. But that is just the same effect we’ve been discussing here in practice.

It’s really telling about the quality of storytelling if the driving force behind the series is just a bunch of proper nouns because you are unable to make compelling stories and characters without relying too much on the recognizability.