#let them let their freak flags fly next to pride ones!

[backbracebruin]

Seems incongruous for the NHL - a league whose players enthusiastically dress in drag and furry costumes at every available opportunity - to keep trying to kill off queer initiatives but, you know, you do you, Gary, et al.

[polyamorouspunk]

Yooooooooooooooo Good Morning!

i actually woke up feeling better than I have been so my plan is to try to be just a little bit productive. Maybe wash some clothes. Maybe clean up my room. The possibilities are endless!

Also! Last night was my niece’s birthday and I gave her present to her! I got her and I tickets to go see the offspring, sum 41, and simple plan in september! She was so excited that she dive bombed me and almost broke my glasses!! I think I won the birthday this year lol

Oh wow! Amazing! What a line up!

I met some cool people at the concert last night including a guy and his girlfriend who had been a fan of them since they were Chicago locals (he was next to me so I talked to him more than her but she kind of nodded and listened) and a woman who said she was going to let her wife know she was getting out of line with me. I’m not good at starting conversations at concerts really but it seems people always end up talking to me, or I chime in eventually. I hope you both have fun.

I know this was sent like yesterday I think and then I talked to you today. I said I was reading and then going to bed but right as I put my book down everything hit me again and I started getting freaked out again so I figured I’d answer your ask.

My mom put my table back up in my craft room, so I can start working on physical stuff again. Right now I’m working on a series of hand-drawn pride pins. The first one I did was asexual and the design was recycled from the pin I made my cousin for her bag (which I posted on here and sent to you) and it feels very cottagecorey but I made a bisexual one of just flowers and while I’m really happy with the design I feel like it misses the mark of the vibe I’m going for. As a consumer I’m more drawn to greenery and mushrooms vs flowers, but I spent so much time on it I’d hate to scrap it. I’m hoping I can make other ones that really capture that cottagecore feel more, but it’s very hard since I’m trying to focus on realistic things that include those colors in my pride flags. I’m hoping to do some poison dart frogs with the lesbian flag or the rainbow flag maybe, since frogs are cottagecore. But yeah.

I want to start working on my patch pants in case I end up going to SSC. I know I told you originally I was and then I wasn’t going to which I haven’t like announced anywhere because even then I was still thinking “fuck it maybe I’ll just fucking fly up and go” BUT my best friend is trying to plan her wedding reception that week so we can still go BUT I called it off because our other best friend’s brother’s wedding got moved to that weekend and her family is very over-the-top so it’s going to be a all-weekend thing at LEAST and while I’m fine with having her reception on a weekday because I gotta take time off to go up there anyway I know I’m not the only guest. I’d *like* to think I’m the closest thing to a Bride’s Maid of Honor, you know, which was the dream back when I thought we were all cishet but mildly weird, before we were both like “fuck church weddings” and also before she was like “I’m going to get legally married for the tax benefits and shit” so like you know back when I dreamed of being her brides maid of honor. I am racking my brains trying to come up with a good present for her (my literal best friend since I was 5) and I have a few ideas but they’re going to take research and effort. You know I can’t just buy her a post card or like the keychain I got her when we went to pride for her literal wedding present.

Anyway that’s what’s up here I think I’m going to go eat and take my meds and do the self care you told me to do and hopefully by then I won’t feel so jittery.

[backdraft-bimbo]

couldn't say just how I love you

Sam just wants to feel the warmth of another person right now, and that person just happens to be Bucky.

Yeah, that must be why, he settles; convenience.

Words: 1699

Chapters: 1/1

ao3 link

Sam squints across the shrimping boat as Bucky fiddles with his forearm. He’s barely made an inch of progress with it, yet the guy hasn’t asked for any help so far. It’s kind of ridiculous since Sam–the Falcon for crying out loud–is over here with two capable hands, ten beautiful fingers, and a proficient enough background in engineering to fix Bucky’s shit for him.

Broody Mcgee is either a whole ‘nother level of stubborn when it comes to accepting help, or he’s just a shy person, which Sam finds to be a hilarious deduction. Who the hell’s ever heard of a shy ex-assassin? Plus, this is the same guy who went chuteless out of a plane, flew face first into the trees, and had the wind knocked out of him–with all of it caught on camera. But for some reason, Bucky never asked Sam to delete the footage (before Redwing bit the dust), so he really doubts it’s a pride thing.

Maybe Bucky just needs a push.

“Do you even know what you’re doing over there, Buck? ‘Cause it doesn’t look to me–“

“No, I got it–“

“–like you know what you’re doing. You want some help?” Sam offers, raising his hands placatingly. “No shame. I worked on Redwing for years, so I’ve got my hands around tech before.”

Bucky grips his bradawl tighter, digging rather aggressively into his bionic arm. “No, seriously . I’m fine.” Sam cringes; he’s definitely doing more damage using one hand for repairs. The wires are all crooked in the part where the Flag-Smasher kicked it in–much more internal damage than Sam expected coming out of that skirmish.

“You are a stubborn man–and I don’t just mean that metal arm you've been poking at the last hour. I think the arm is the most agreeable part of you. It doesn’t complain any time I try to help it.”

Bucky groans, slamming his bradawl back on the boat table. “If I say ‘okay’ will you shut up already?”

“Definitely not,” Sam grins. “But your annoyance is noted.”

“Have you ever dealt with vibranium? ‘Cause if not–”

Sam stops him. “You had a titanium arm before, right? The one with the commie star on the shoulder?”

Bucky grumbles out an affirmation.

“Perfect,” Sam says, “how different can they be?”

A look of mild alarm crosses Bucky’s face. It’s kind of hilarious. “Well–”

“Forget I asked,” Sam says cordially, fully prepared to keep messing with Bucky. The guy is just so easy sometimes. He jogs over from the boat’s rusty bow pulpit and slaps his hands together. “C’mon, man, what’s up with your weird ‘I’d rather die than let Sam help me’ attitude?”

Bucky fleetingly glances at Sam, then back at his mangled arm, and furrows his eyebrows in that way he does whenever he’s deliberating whether or not to share something. Sam is unfortunately so used to Bucky shutting down that it comes as a surprise to him when the guy actually speaks up.

“It’s just frustrating, okay?” he says, voice rough and gravelly. “I know it’s stupid, but I don’t think I’m ever gonna be used to only having one arm.”

Sam sobers up a bit. So that’s why.

“I just...wanna be able to fix this shit up to prove to myself that, y’know...that I can do it.”

A few seagulls squawk overhead as Bucky’s words sink in. Sam doesn’t know why he’s never considered the possibility that Bucky might not totally be over losing his arm. Hell, Sam feels kind of foolish for missing it; he used to deal with soldiers coming back from war zones missing a limb or two.

“Nah, man,” Sam says after a thoughtful pause. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Bucky doesn’t respond to that, and Sam doesn’t expect him to. The guy silently shifts his bionic arm so that Sam can sit down and work on it, side-eyeing him like he’s weighing whether or not he should have said anything. I guess decades of being a Prisoner of War and brainwashed HYDRA assassin will do that to you, Sam meditates.

He and Bucky have had their share of falling outs. Hell, just a few days ago they were promising to take separate long vacations apart. They both said shitty things. So what? That doesn’t mean Sam can’t feel for the guy. He catches himself occasionally ruminating all that Bucky has been through and finds that he can’t go too long without needing a break. But that’s Bucky’s life; ain’t exactly like he can just take a pause from it. It sort of breaks Sam’s heart in a way he can’t explain; all those years Bucky can’t get back...

“Sam?”

Sam blinks, not realizing he’d been staring. The shadow of a smile has crossed Bucky’s face.

“Looks like I’m not the only one with the staring problem.”

Sam shakes his head, blinking some more. Geez. What were they doing again?

Bucky looks at him half-expectantly, half-amusedly. He gestures loosely at his arm. “Go crazy, man.”

“Right. Right, the arm.” Sam grapples with the tools splayed out on the splintery table, trying to recall what he needs with an odd sense of urgency. Why the hell is he forgetting everything? Last time he checked, empathy isn’t supposed to instill this kind of reaction.

“Take your time,” Bucky says... nicely? And all right, that’s another Bucky-related thing Sam has to set aside for later. It’s an extraordinarily long list, but Sam’s got shit to do right now. He exhales deeply and focuses all of his attention on the job before him.

It’s easy to get into a rhythm. The slight breeze and white noise waves blend together as Sam zones in on Bucky’s arm, the two settling into a comfortable silence. The atmosphere is sublime for fixing broken things–the Wilson family shrimping boat always seemed to do that. Sam wonders if Bucky feels it too; maybe it’s just his own nostalgia. Whenever Sam thinks of his parents on deck, laughing and telling anecdotes to their relatives...it makes Sam feel like an invincible kid again. He can do anything as long as he can tap into those memories.

When the wires start looking right, Sam can’t tell how long it’s been since they started. The freaking sea, man. Gotta be more careful next time. The sights and sounds of the shore are too hypnotic; before you know it, the seagulls have left and the sun is already setting on the horizon. Judging by the dimmer light, it’s probably early evening now.

Sam looks up at Bucky for the first time in what feels like ages. The guy’s resting his chin on his right hand, eyes closed as the invisible fingers of the breeze comb through his dark hair. And wow, he looks peaceful –a word Sam seldom uses when it comes to Bucky Barnes. The profile view is making him notice things, which is probably why Sam is opening his mouth before better judgement can grab him by the collar.

He stops fiddling with Bucky’s arm and leans forward.

“Dude, you got loooong eyelashes.”

Bucky shifts at that, eyebrows furrowing back into their natural state, and the idyllic moment is broken. All right, so Sam can admit that was a random, out-of-left-field observation probably suited for a different time. But give him a break, he’s been looking at wires for like three hours straight. Sam is nevertheless grateful Bucky doesn’t comment on his weirdness. The guy just glances down at his new and improved arm and gives Sam a stoic nod of approval.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Bucky says. “So, uh, thanks.”

“Still gotta test it,” Sam replies, strangely off-put by Bucky’s honesty. But, to be fair, there’s a lot of crazy new stuff happening today. For example, Sam must be getting old, because the moment he stands up from his chair, hoping to get some blood moving, a rush of lightheadedness washes over him, and he’s forced to lean his hips against the table for a second.

He shakes his head, laughing at himself. “Shit.”

“You okay?” Bucky asks skeptically, staring up at Sam with his big blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just test-run this thing, Cyborg Man. I need a nap.”

Sarah must’ve put something in the carrot souffle, because Sam is seriously on a roll with odd behavior today. It might be because it’s Saturday and none of his family are watching, or because he and Bucky aren’t out on a mission for once, but there’s absolutely no justification Sam can think of other than complete self-indulgence for why he wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. With his left hand, Sam lifts up the vibranium arm, bends it back and forth, nods to himself, and says, “Looks good.”

For a second, Bucky is craning his neck back, gaping at Sam like he’s grown a second head. As quickly as that expression comes, though, it’s gone a second later, and Bucky returns to his familiar guise of reservation, shifting his gaze to Sam’s handiwork, a faint tint of traitorous red rising to his cheeks. Sam leans forward farther, sighing heavily into Bucky’s shoulder, like they’re already at this stage of intimacy. But Sam lets the fact that this isn’t as per usual blissfully fly over his head, because he’s tired and sore and can’t give a shit anymore.

Sam just wants to feel the warmth of another person right now, and that person just happens to be Bucky.

Yeah, that must be why , he settles; convenience.

Bucky just sits there silently and lets Sam lean against him, the exhaustion drooping off his shoulders and into the creaky old wood of the Wilson family boat. He shifts for a second, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Eventually, Sam is moving up and away, sliding his hands off Bucky’s body, a strange fluttery feeling enveloping him. He tries not to think about how much he didn’t want that to end, or how badly he misses the touch when it’s gone, but–

For another time, Sam promises himself.

Neither of them say a word as they walk back to Sarah’s.

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 6: “Heartfelt Appeal”

You find two characters that click so well, look them up...and there’s no content! ‘Why?? Someone please make content!’ The pleas go unheard. You’ll just have to make it yourself. Show some love for your rare pairs today!

MORE FANTASYSHIPPING! 8D

Year 2’s Duel Monster Spirit Day! Friendly reminder that ‘Mana’ is the name Dark Magician Girl gave when she introduced herself to Syrus last year.

Colorful banners and streamers hang from the entrance hall once more, market tents set up in the main yard with flashy signs and flags announcing their wares or food or other activities. Syrus stares at it all with the same wonder as last year, and peers through the throng of students hopefully. His other friends have already gone off to find the activities they like best, be it duels or carnival games or the kissing booth, so Syrus is free to wander at his leisure and search.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, and Syrus still wonders if last year was a fever dream regardless of the way Christina keeps teasing him and the ghost of arms he sometimes feels around his shoulders. But still, he hopes and maybe this year he can confirm it for sure.

“Syrus!” a voice calls out that tickles his memory and Syrus swings to face-

“Mana!” Heat floods his cheeks. Dear Ra, did she get prettier or is he just hopelessly, stupidly crushing? “You...you just disappeared last time,” he squeaks out the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t a jumbled mess of pretty hug magic like, and wants to kick himself when Mana’s expression falls.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, looking so sad it physically hurts. “I didn’t want it to end that way. I lost track of the time and I wasted too much of it showing off.” Her voice turns a bit bitter before she shrugs it off and smiles again. “But not this time. This time you have my full attention.”

“No, no!” Syrus frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean- I what?”

Mana giggles and leans down. “Just for today, you have me all to yourself!” Winking, she taps his nose and Syrus wheezes as his heart makes a valiant attempt at pounding straight out of his chest. Leaning back, Mana clasps her hands behind her back. “So what do you want to do?”

“Ah, well, um, we, we could, we could check out the carnival games,” Syrus finally stammers out a full sentence. Gods he hasn’t been this bad about it since the beginning of the year!

Mana only giggles again as she takes his hand and heads off toward the game booths. “Don’t go hiding in a trashcan on me now.”

Syrus’ brain freezes for a full second. “YOU SAW THAT?”

“I see everything Chinatsu sees! Well, almost.”

Who the hell is Chinatsu?!

*

It takes a solid 30 minutes and two botched carnival games to finally work himself out of that last anxiety attack, but finally his heartrate feels normal and he doesn’t want to die of mortification. If he dies he won’t get to see Mana smile or hear her squeal over the stuffed Happy Lover she won from the last game. Her throwing arm is ridiculously good. She’s also amazingly child-like for...however old she’s supposed to be.

“Ooo! I wanna try that! I wanna try that!” she squeals, pointing animatedly at the food stall with an assortment of pastries. “The bean fishies! Chinatsu loves these! I always wanted to try one!”

Syrus orders them a taiyaki each and ends up going back for seconds when Manna practically melts where she stands. “It’s so rich and sweet~!”

The next half hour ends up devoted purely to letting Mana sample all the food at the festival and discover her favorites. They compare tastes and Syrus offers recommendations. Mana ends up leaning more towards milder flavors of the sweet and savory variety; too much flavor and she’ll gag on it even if she likes the taste. Syrus prefers saltier foods with just a tiny extra kick. Mana’s reaction to hot spices had been concerning but strangely fun.

“Hey, um, if it’s not rude to ask...” Syrus starts as they sit on a bench nibbling on dango. Mana tilts her head to show she’s listening and Syrus ploughs ahead before he can talk himself out of it. “Are you really the Dark Magician Girl?”

Manna chews slowly before swallowing. “What do you think, silly?”

He thinks she is, and he’d call it crazy if not for, well, everything else crazy about the last two years of his life. After literally sentient murder crazy light, he might be ready to believe anything. But then- “Why me?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me,” Manna says without missing a beat. “You didn’t just see a pretty face or a powerful mage; you wanted to know the real me beneath all of that.”

“Oh...” Syrus remembers that conversation. Christina asked him why he had a card crush on the Dark Magician Girl. Did she ask because...

“And because I want to get to know you too,” Mana continues and Syrus sputters as his poor heart makes itself known again. “I’ve gotten to watch you a lot but that’s not the same as interacting. I want you to show me who you are. And I want to show you who I am.”

“Me? But I’m...I’m not...” His eyes fall to the ground as he thinks of that embarrassing episode of hiding in a trash can, of his brother who he couldn’t even stand up to in the end, of the Society of Light that he did absolutely nothing to help stop and even got himself kidnapped by a digital woman and her duel monster lackeys.

“Syrus.” A hand on his cheek brings him back to face Mana’s deep green eyes. “You can do anything and be anyone you want to be. I mean, just look at you already.” She plucks at the yellow blazer and Syrus’ chest fills with pride at the reminder. That’s right. He did do that. All on his own. “You look so good in yellow!” Mana cheers and Syrus’ ducks his face away again. He doesn’t know how to handle all these compliments! “Believe in yourself, and when that’s hard to do, believe me when I say I believe you can do anything.”

Those words might mean more to him than any other praise or pep talk he’s gotten before, simply because they sound so genuine. He’ll hold those words close to his heart for the rest of his life, because someone as strong and powerful as the freaking Dark Magician Girl believes in him. Swallowing, he nods and clears his throat to find his voice. “So, um, what do you wanna know?”

Smiling, Mana stands and pulls him straight back to the carnival games. Oh, so they’re not talking more? Syrus has to admit to being disappointed.

“Favorite color?” Mana asks as they try to catch tiny goldfish and distracts Syrus from the extra shiny one he almost caught.

“Actually...it’s orange,” he amidst sheepishly. “But I look horrid in it.”

“Aw, I think you’d look cute in orange! Like a little pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?!”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was that an insult?” Mana asks with such genuine concern and confusion that Syrus can’t even be mad.

Shaking his head, Sryus flips the question around on her. “What about you?”

Mana stares at the water in the plastic pool. “It used to be purple...but I think I like grey a little better now.” She looks up and smiles and Syrus can’t help but feel like he’s missed something significant in that response.

“Favorite animal?” Mana asks once they’ve moved on to a ring toss game.

“Dogs,” Syrus says immediately, then feels self conscious about it. “I mean, they’re loyal and fluffy and I’ve always wanted one, they look fun to play with-”

Mana laughs. “Dogs are man’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Mine are birds.” Mana looks up to the sky. “Because they can fly. I always wanted that freedom.”

“But you can fly too, can’t you?”

“In spirit form. But I can’t go too far from my card. Like this I can only float a bit.” With a snap of her fingers, her feet lift a couple centimeters off the ground in demonstration.

“That’s so cool.” Syrus stares in awe as Mana sets her feet back on the ground.

“The silliest thing you’ve ever done?”

A deep breath as a laundry list of his most mortifying experiences assault him. Breath out. He digs deeper for an older memory less tarnished by years of ridicule and insecurity. “I wore a sand bucket on my head and called myself a king.”

Mana laughs, loud and sudden, and Syrus takes pride in his four year old self for managing to entertain two people. He doubts he’d share that memory with anyone else; it’s one of the few he has of Zane smiling.

“I used to hide in giant vases then jump out and scare the crap out of my best friend,” Mana says with a wide grin, and Syrus snorts because he can picture it clearly. “Master always scolded me, but his reactions were too fun.”

Her master? Dark Magician then? Syrus wonders what kind of person would get to hang out with both of them. Probably another powerful spellcaster. “What is he like? Your master? Or...is he here today too?”

“Mahad? No, his situation is different from mine so it’s harder for him to cross the border,” Mana says, scanning the festival for their next game. “He’s pretty strict, and doesn’t know how to take a joke. But he’s kind and selfless.” Her voice grows soft and wistful, then she shakes herself and scratches her cheek. “Honestly, we’re kinda opposites, but that’s what makes it fun.”

She points to a shooting game booth before eagerly charging toward it; Syrus shows her how to use the toy gun and manages to beat her at this game. He still lets her pick out the prize, giggling when she picks out a lucky cat keychain.

“Dream career?” The key chain sways as it dangles from her finger.

Syrus fidgets. “It may seem kinda obvious, but I wanna be a pro duelist. A really famous one,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the ground.

“I bet you’ll be more famous that Yugi!” Mana cheers and Syrus quickly waves his hand in front of him.

“No! No, I doubt that!”

“Do you wanna have kids?” she asks while they fish for balloons with little hooks on strings.

Syrus chokes and drops his string straight into the water. “I mean, uh, maybe?? I guess I’d like- like to settle down and- and have a family- eventually...”

Mana smiles, but it looks a bit sad. “Yeah. I definitely want that too.”

“Best childhood memory?” Nimble fingers rifle through the Senbonbiki strings before giving one a tug.

Syrus answers without hesitation. “Zane teaching me how to duel.”

The string is a dud without a prize attached; Mana turns from pouting to look at Syrus with curious eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah... we...” Syrus looks away, tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. “We had a good relationship back then.”

Mana hums, reaching out to take his hand and wander back through the festival. “I think...mine is meeting Atem for the first time.”

Atem. That’s Christina’s ace card. Syrus shouldn’t be surprised he’s a duel spirit too. “Are all monster cards duel spirits?”

“Not every card has a spirit attached, but I have noticed almost every design mirrors a creature or person that actually exists.”

“Weird.” Honestly, Syrus never thought about it before, but it’s really weird that a game on Earth could accurately depict creatures from another dimension. Sure, Pegasus based the original cards off carvings he found in Egypt, but those were 3000 years old! Some of the new archetypes look distinctly futuristic, and Jaden designed the Neo Spacians so explain that! Just thinking about it gives Syrus a headache.

“Have you ever lost a fight?” he ventures to ask as they nibble on chocolate bananas.

“Lots of times,” Mana laughs at herself. “Especially during training. And no matter how good you are there’s always someone stronger, so tactical retreat is necessary!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Syrus nods. The sky’s getting darker. Will Mana still be here for the fireworks? “What’s it like being a spirit?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. “It’s...lonely sometimes,” she admits, voice soft, almost forlorn. “Not many people can see us. We entertain ourselves by watching the world and taking bets on what kind of trouble Jaden will get into next.” Mana shrugs and smiles, an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, but Syrus can see straight through it.

“Oh,” he says, wishing he could put his emotions into words that wouldn’t hollow.

Mana glances out at the darkening sky, voice soft as she asks, “One thing you really wanna do before you die?”

“Huh?” The question startles Syrus as much as the oddly wistful tone. “I guess...” He hesitates. One thing? The thing he wants to do most? That he’d regret never doing? “I wanna be happy. With someone I mean!” he quickly amends and the word babble spills out from there. “I wanna get married and buy a house and share my life with someone. I know it probably doesn’t sounds that ambitious but-”

“No, that’s a great ambition.”

Syrus can’t really name the emotion on Mana’s face. Nodding, he looks down at his feet and fiddles with his hands. “Maybe...if we get to know each other better...you could be that person?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look up.

An intake of breath. “Syrus...”

The boom rattles through his bones and Syrus screams, flinging himself towards the nearest source of comfort and shelter, straight into Mana’s arms. Oh. Oh, the fireworks! Prying his eyes open reveals bursts of color lighting up the sky as another boom shakes the air. He laughs awkwardly and rights himself, murmuring an apology.

“I don’t have much time left,” Mana says, colored light illuminating her mournful expression, and the dread seizes Syrus by the throat.

“Ki-kiss me properly this time!” Oh gods his voice cracked and got really screechy, but he said it! His hands fist against his legs, trembling as her heart goes off on another marathon, and what if she rejects him? What if he read this all wrong? What if-

“Okay.”

Her kiss lingers on his lips long after the fireworks fade and she disappears back to being a spirit. He can still feel her hand against his own, and this time he knows it’s real.

[yodawgiherd]

Gone Clubbing

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Coming hot from the Red Flag update, I wrote this chapter that is in a very similar light. It fits the story, so you can't blame me :P Enjoy!

The interior of the club was looking surprisingly normal. Dark colors, tasteful wooden decorations, tables and booths lining the walls. There was a bar in one corner, but the center of the whole club was undoubtedly the raised stage. It was empty now, Darius’ performance didn’t start yet, so Eren took the lead and maneuvered them towards the reserved booth.

Looking around, he realized one thing. Hey, they even fit here! Mikasa was looking amazing as ever and her goth getup worked well with the overall vibe of the club. Eren, who was dubbed a clown by both himself and his friends, also got substantially better, because black lipstick and nail polish were very far from the most eccentric clothing they saw.

“Look, that catsuit is the same as one of yours.”, he pointed out, making Mikasa look.

“It is..”, she agreed, inspecting the latex bodysuit of one of the visitors, “I guess Darius is making big bucks with custom-made gear.”

“He is an artist.”

“True that. Everything we got from him is amazing, so I will never disagree with his statements.��

Mikasa’s grey eyes slid towards the bar, pondering the question of “not getting hammered.” She could handle a few more drinks, especially when she asks for something with less alcohol, and there was no reason to just sit here dry.

“Well, I’ll get us something to drink, because I might get thirsty over the course of the evening.“, Mikasa stated, letting the double entendre hang in the air as she stood up and walked in the direction of the bar.

That’s when Eren’s phone rang, and a quick check showed that it was his mother calling. As one does not let his mother go into voicemail, he picked up, curious what she might want. They did see each other a few hours back.

“Mom?”

“E-Eren, you freak!”

That made him blink.

“Come again?”

“I know what you did! Mikasa spilled the beans and now I know… Everything! I don’t remember raising you like this!”

Eyes flying to where his fiancé was, Eren’s mind worked frantically around the words. Carla knew… everything? What did that mean? What did Mikasa tell her? He couldn’t imagine his reserved girlfriend bragging about anything embarrassing in public, so…

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I know that you… you had s… sex in public, Mikasa said so.”

Statement one – Carla was drunk, judging from how she mingled the words.

Statement two- What the fuck?!

Statement three – What on god’s green earth made Mikasa tell Carla such a thing. Fine, it was far from the worst that they’ve done, but still. It’s not something that you boast about to family members, and Eren would rather bite his tongue clear off than walk up to Levi and say: “Hey friend, did you know that I often tie your little sister up and do all kinds of freaky shit to her?”

“Well, I mean…”

But Carla didn’t even let him finish, another accusation flying Eren’s way.

“And you have a tattoo!”

“You said that it looked cool!”

“Yes but…”, she sniffled on the other side, “You were just a tiny little baby yesterday, and today you have a tattoo and a girlfriend and… s-sex… and…”

The sounds she was making were suspiciously like sobs.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes... It’s…”, he could hear her shaky exhale, “I wasn’t here for such a big part of your life, I missed so much.”

“Mom I…”

“No, it’s my fault, I was the one who decided to leave. But no more. I promise that I’ll be around much more Eren, I want to remember what you do, I want to be a part of your life.”

“You are a part of my life mom.”

“Bigger part then.”

“Very well.”, he chuckled, “Do you want me to come over and talk?”

“No, I know when I’m drunk. Mikasa’s party was great but I feel like lying down now.”, Carla bit back a yawn, “Also, tell her that she looked beautiful today.”¨

“See? Even you tell me that she’s beautiful and you act all surprised when she tells you that we fu-… I mean that we are intimate. Like seriously, did you think that we were in some sort of celibate relationship where we kiss each other on the cheek and sleep in separate beds?”

“Okay Mr. Libido, where are my grandchildren then?”

If Eren was drinking anything, he would spit it out right now.

“Mom! What the hell?”

“I’m just saying Eren, if I die without seeing a single tiny bundle of joy from you and Mikasa, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”

“I…”

“Shush, I’ll get out of your hair now. I love you Eren and tell Mikasa I love her too. She’s like the daughter I never had.”

“Now that would make things rather awkward between us.”

“You know what I mean! Once you finally push yourself to action and marry the poor girl, she’s going to be my in-law anyway.”

“Wait, did you say poor?”

“Good night sweetie!”

And with a click, Carla was gone. Putting the phone down, Eren’s eyes were drawn to Mikasa making her way back towards him, two glasses in hand. She moved through the club with her usual predatory grace, easily weaving through the people there, completely in her element. Eren wasn’t the only one watching her, he noticed, several pairs and individuals stole a look at the enchantingly beautiful goth girl that walked in their midst. Maybe it should have made Eren jealous, but all he felt was a pang of foolish pride in his chest. Yes, she’s so incredibly gorgeous, and she’s mine. Look, but don’t touch or we might have a problem. Or who was he kidding, Mikasa would definitely take care of herself. She was the one who, in high school, broke a hand of a guy who touched her without permission.

Reaching her destination, Mikasa slid down to the booth next to Eren, putting the glasses on the table. A bit driven by all the stares, he immediately took the opportunity to grab a sort of possessive hold of her, angling her face so he could kiss her. Way more aggressive and deeper than necessary, but he was buzzed just the right way not to care. Let anyone see how much he loves her. They were in a freaking BDSM club anyway, this was by far not the worst that happened here.

“Well hello stranger,”, she said once they broke apart, her cheeks all flushed and the black lipstick smeared around her lips, “Didn’t know that you were this grateful for the drink”

Keeping one hand wrapped around her, Eren took a sip of whatever she brought up, pleasantly surprised. It was good, way better than he expected even, as one would not think that a club like this needed an amazing bartender. There were other reasons why people came.

“Mom called.”, he announced, putting the glass back down, “She knows about our public adventures because you told her. May I know why?”

“Eeh, I couldn’t help it.”, Mikasa had an apologetic smile on her lips, “We were playing truth or dare, and it sort of came up.”

Truth or dare? That did sound like fun, and Eren regretted the dumb argument he got into with the other guys at the bar. Pulling out secrets from Hitch or Krista, or hell, his own mother, would have been amazing. Then again, he was here with Mikasa, they had drinks and the show didn’t start yet. So…

“Wanna have a little game of our own?”

“Why? We know exactly what we did.”

“Maybe it’s just an excuse to get you drunk.”

“Ooh, you sly bastard.”, Mikasa’s eyes narrowed, “You’re on.”

“Good, I’ll be taking the first word then.”

Eren cleared his throat, raised his glass, and began.

“Never have I ever been suspended from a ceiling.”

“Cheap shot.”, she commented.

“Could be, but still.”, he tapped her glass, “Drink, shibari lover.”

She did so, revenge forming in her head.

“Never have I ever licked someone’s boots.”

“And you talk about cheap shots.”, Eren clicked his tongue but drank.

“Never have I ever done a pole dance.”, he shot back.

Mikasa’s eyes were calculating as she took a sip.

“Maybe we will have to change that.”, she said before firing her volley, “Never have I ever filmed us having sex.”

“That tape is going to be useful one day. And we have so many more to make…”

Mikasa ignored the tingle that it sent down her spine, frowning at her fiancé.

“Sure thing, voyeur.”

Rolling his eyes, Eren drank.

“Never have  I ever wore cat ears during sex.”

“Yet.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.”, with a mysterious smile, Mikasa drank.

“Never have I ever been in a chastity cage.”

“How the hell is that fair? You literally can’t even be in one.”

“There are similar devices for women, it’s fair play.”

“But…”

“No buts.”, she pointed at the glass in clear command, “Drink, puppy.”

Eren obeyed, eyes studying her even as he spoke.

“Never have I ever stepped on someone.”

“Oh please, you enjoyed it!”

“Sure did,”, Eren agreed,  “but that’s not the point of this game.”

Mikasa took a swig, a follow-up in her mind.

“Never have I ever come from a footjob.”

“Dirty.”, a sip, and it was Eren’s turn, “Never have I ever been taken against my will.”

“Can you really call it non-consent when I was the one who came up with the idea?”,  Mikasa wondered, clearly just stalling.

“Miki, I still have some of the photos I took of you back then. Should I pull them up as evidence and let the committee decide?”

Defeated by a sound argument, Mikasa drank.

“Maybe we could give it another shot, sometimes soon.”, she said, remembering how strange the experience was.

Terrifying and perfect at the same time, she was scared for her life when the Not-Eren threatened her, he managed to play the role of an abusive bastard so well. Maybe there was something about him being a bad guy in her dreams because at least party he could be such an asshole even in real life. If she begged nicely, that is.

“I’d have to ask Mr. Incognito if he has a free schedule.”, Eren joked, making Mikasa snicker, “But I have a faint feeling that he might squeeze you in.”

“Let’s leave it on open for now, who knows, maybe I will be the one in charge once we get around to the thing.”

That made Eren blink a few times.

“You want to do that to me?”

“Maybe..”, a bit of worry entered her face when she realized that Eren might not be into it. She had to be sure because Mikasa would never force him into something he didn’t want, that was a big No in their relationship.

“Don’t you want me to?”, she asked, but Eren shook his head.

“It’s not that I don’t want it, I honestly just have a hard time coming up with any scenario where I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Tsk, don’t you worry about that. If I want it, I’ll come up with something.”

“Fine by me. Open it is then.”

With that topic solved, it was time to continue their game. Mikasa’s turn, she thought for a moment before she tried her next line.

“Never have I ever deepthroated a strap-on.”

But Eren was having none of that.

“Nah, but you did, don’t you remember the “class” you gave me?”

“That wasn’t a strap-on, it was a vibrator!”

“Close enough. Drink.”

Murmuring about unfair rules and crooked referees, Mikasa drank with Eren mirroring her.

“Never have I ever had anal sex.”, was his put, and Mikasa snorted in amusement. She couldn’t even count how many times Eren was either the giving or receiving party in anal sex, so she called him out on his bullshit.

“Seriously? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”, Mikasa moved closer, whispering, “Slut.”

It was magical how a single word could make Eren’s crotch tingle.

“No need, I did it on purpose.”, he drained his glass, putting it down, “I like the stuff they serve in here.”

Chuckling, Mikasa followed suit, both their drinks empty. Then, just as Eren was about to get up for a refill, the lights dimmed and the show began.

The figure that walked in on the stage was undoubtedly Darius Zackly, and he was followed by not one but two women, the player. One was dark-skinned and the other very pale, almost as much as Mikasa. To contrast their natural look, each wore lingerie of the opposite color, white on black and black on white, complete with high heels on their feet. No one spoke, the trio bowed to the crowd instead, almost dramatically, while two rings descended from above, stopping to hover over them.

Keeping his mysterious air, Darius held out a hand and the pale girl moved, grabbing a rope from the cart in the back and handing it to him. With the silky thing in hand, Zackly began his performance. He worked on the black girl first, coming up with an intricate design. Even the rope was white, Mikasa realized, a stark difference to the model’s skin. First, Darius tied her hands behind her back. The second rope went around her chest, tying her breasts in a very familiar design. Then he guided a rope through the metal ring, one that went from her tied hands to the chest bondage. With that, the ring rode up a bit, forcing the model to stretch her body and anchoring her in place.

“Isn’t the chest bondage the one you used on me?”, Mikasa whispered to Eren, recognizing the shapes.

He studied the way Darius worked the ropes for a moment.

“It is, you have a good eye. Although the binding on her hands is different than the one I used on you.”

“Because you tied me all the way from wrists to elbows.”, she made a tiny frown appear on her face, “I couldn’t move my hands at all.”

“Only the most secure bondage for a beast like you.”, he chuckled, kissing Mikasa’s scarred cheek, “I can’t edge you unless you are properly bound, otherwise you take control of the situation.”

“You better keep those skills up then.”

“For you Miki? Anything.”

The performance continued while they talked, and Darius was now working on the model’s legs. He didn’t touch her right leg, but her left was picked up and bend at the knee. Ropes sneaking around the limb, Zackly immobilized it, and that was it for the black girl. She was now balancing on one leg, but with the ropes pulling her up it wasn’t that much of a strain. With one model done, Darius turned his attention to the pale girl.

Retrieving a few more ropes from the cart, black ones this time, he closed the distance to his partner. Following the same path as before, Zackly tied her hands and chest first, copying the pattern. But then the show changed. He didn’t secure the model to the ring, he made her lie down instead, kneeling and working on her legs like that, with her on the floor. The ring started descending at the same time, going very, very low. Done with the design, Darius pulled the rope up and into the ring, anchoring it. And that’s when Eren realized what was happening.

“He’s hanging her upside down.”

“Ooh, that looks like fun.”, Mikasa poked Eren in the shoulder, “Why don’t you do that to me?”

“Eh, I don’t prefer it. When you are upside down, blood goes to your head quickly, so you have to be very mindful of the time. When I tie you up, I like to go slow, really enjoy you.”

“Hmm.”, Mikasa’s eyes were back on the performance.

She was chewing on something in her mind, and Eren had a chuckle when he realized what it was. So many things that they’ve done and Mikasa still had trouble asking him for something.

“We can try it if you want.”, he offered, making her face light up.

She leaned over to press a chaste kiss to his lips followed by a gentle whisper.

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

Just then the whirring resumed, and the ring began ascending, pulling the pale girl up. Upwards she went, until her whole body was off the floor and hanging from the ring, her blonde hair cascading around her face. It was the hangman position, Eren realized. And when Darius took a step back, both Mikasa and he finally took in the thing Zackly created as a whole. Contrast, that was the centerpiece of his performance. One girl was standing while the other was hanging upside down, both in the exact same position. One was dark-skinned yet wearing white lingerie and tied by a white rope, while the other was pale, wearing black and tied by a black rope. It was bondage, but at the same time it was art, and from the murmur that ran through the club they weren’t the only ones who realized that. The old man was an artist, no matter how you put it.

With a bow from Darius, his performance was finished. Both Eren and Mikasa joined in on the applause that resounded through the club, the show he put on was amazing. Once the ruckus began to die down and everyone got their fill of ogling the beautiful bondage design, Zackly untied the ladies while talking to them, laughing here and there. It was an interesting dynamic to see them like this, relaxed around each other, it betrayed that they all have been in this business for some time.

“Hello?”

As they were both watching the stage, neither Eren nor Mikasa saw the couple approach them. The woman was tall, made even taller by the extremely high heels on her shoes. It was the one that Eren noticed earlier, dressed in a latex bodysuit of the same design as one of Mikasa’s. The man at her side was much less eccentric, wearing jeans and a shirt, but when he nodded his head in greeting Eren saw that there was a collar around his neck, marking him as a property of the lady next to him.

“Hi,”, the woman repeated, “Did you like the show?”

Mikasa took the lead in answering.

“Yes, it was great, very artistic too.”

“That’s Zackly for you,”, the woman smirked, “He is amazing at what he does.”

“But we didn’t come here to fawn over Darius,”, that was the man speaking, nudging his partner, “Did we, sweetie?”

“Right, no, we didn’t. We came to talk to you for a reason.”

“Which is?”, Eren asked.

The woman faced Mikasa when she spoke, the words aimed at her.

“I hope that we aren’t too straightforward, but my husband saw you at the bar, and he was quite taken by you.”

Eren had to bite back a laugh at how Mikasa’s eyes widened.

“H-huh?”, was all she managed.

“We were wondering if you would be willing to do a partner exchange for a night or two, maybe a weekend.”, the collared husband took the word, “If you guys are into it, of course.”

“He’s a bottom, as you might have guessed,” the latex-clad woman followed up, “and from watching you I’d guess that you are the top in your relationship? You have that air of dominance around you.”

“I-I do?”, Mikasa choked out, much to Eren’s amusement.

But he wasn’t spared either, as the woman’s eyes slid over to him.

“You don’t have to worry either pretty boy, I promise that I’d take good care of you. I’m an experienced dominatrix.”

Now it was Eren’s eyes widening. He and Mikasa looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. Seeing their slight panic, the man grinned.

“I feel like we started with a wrong question, we should have asked if you are in an open relationship first.”

“That’s right, our fault.”, the woman agreed immediately, “Sorry if we are making you uncomfortable with this.”

Finally understanding what this was about, Mikasa blushed but reached out, taking hold of Eren’s arm.

“No, we are not open.”, she said, meeting the woman’s eyes, “We are very closed.”

“Yep, just me and her, no one else.”

“Aw, that’s too bad, you guys are something else.”, the woman clicked her tongue, “Oh well, can’t have everything.”

“We will take our leave then.”, the man said, unbothered by the refusal, “Have a pleasant evening.”

With that, he walked away and deeper into the club. The woman stole a last wanton look at Eren before following, her heels clicking against the floor. The stunned silence that came didn’t even get a chance to properly cook before a new figure appeared. Familiar one this time, it was Darius who slid into the booth, grinning at the pair.

“Eren! Mikasa! I knew that I saw you!”

His joy was infectious, and the cold feeling was being melted by his presence alone.

“That was an amazing show,”, Eren complimented him straight off the bat, “You are so good with the rope.”

“Bah, just years of training. Plus judging from our talk, you are pretty good yourself, the forms you wanted to do were rather advanced.”, his gaze went over to Mikasa, “Isn’t that correct, miss Ackerman?”

She nodded, feeling way more relaxed around Darius than the two from before. But his mention of her, Eren’s significant other, combined with how the pair talked about open relationships and brought a question out of Mikasa, one that she was pondering ever since they entered the club.

“Darius, aren’t you married?”

“Sure am.”

“And your wife… does she know about this?”

“But of course, I don’t think that keeping such a big thing secret is a good idea.”, Zackly sighed, “I keep trying to make her come here, but this scene doesn’t interest her at all.”

“So she doesn’t mind you working with other women?”

“Not at all, she knows that I appreciate the art in bondage, not the sexuality.”

“That’s very open-minded of her.”

“I mean, I work in a sex shop,”, Darius shrugged, “I never kept what I like hidden.”

Smart approach, if they ever heard one. Seeing that he satisfied Mikasa’s curiosity, Darius put forward his idea.

“Are you liking the club?”

Two heads nodded to that.

“What about the performance, looked like fun, right?”

“For sure.”

Well then…

“The thing is, you guys could perform here too if you wanted.”

“W-What?”, Eren exchanged a bewildered look with Mikasa, “You’re joking, right?”

“Why would I?”, Darius continued, completely unmoved, “How long have you two been in this biz?”

“A bit over four years at this point?”, Eren guessed and Mikasa agreed silently.

“And I’d guess that you have the skills for it.”

“I mean…”

But they did, all the plays and scenes they did together amounted to a fair amount of skill when it came to the act. Mikasa knew how to maneuver her sub expertly, Eren knew how to tie her up without worrying that he might hurt her. The experience did matter. Having a quick mental conversation, they both agreed in the end.

“See? I’m willing to bet that either of you could easily take the stage. Forgive me for saying, but you two are very, very hot. In fact, I’d go as far as saying that you two are the hottest couple I’ve seen here, and you would be in high demand.”, he gestured around, “If I walked around the club and asked every single person in here if they would perform with you, I’m pretty sure that I could count the number of “No.” on fingers of one hand.”

He redirected his attention to the pair.

“From the various gear I sold you, I’d guess that you are both switches, right?”

This time it was Mikasa who answered, agreeing cautiously.

“See? Even better. The possibilities would be endless..”

This felt like the same conversation they had with the pair from earlier.

“Look, the thing is, I don’t think that either I or Mikasa would be willing to ever perform with anyone else.”, Eren cut into his monologue, “We are very… possessive of one another.”

Mikasa was again just nodding to his words, shuffling closer and wrapping her hand around Eren’s waist. He did the same, surprising her a bit when Eren pulled Mikasa to sit on his lap. Talk about needing to express your attachment physically.

“We are super exclusive to each other.”

Seeing that and hearing her words, Darius grinned.

“You guys are just adorable. This devotion you have, this is rare to see and it’s so beautiful.”

“T-Thanks.”

“But still, if you want, you could totally perform as a pair. Even exclusive, seeing one of you work the other would give the guests something to dream about.”

“Look, we will think about it.”

“Of course! No one will ever force you into anything.”, Darius calmed them immediately, “Your comfort and consent are the most important things here.”

He said his piece, got the offer out, and there were still several people he needed to talk to. So bidding the half-confused half-surprised pair a quick goodbye and see you soon, Darius stood up and disappeared towards the bar. Eren was the one who broke the silence Zackly left behind, rubbing Mikasa’s back in a soothing motion.

“So, what do you think?”

She shifted on his lap, chewing her dark bottom lip cautiously for a moment before answering.

“Ask me a year back and I would say No. Ask me two years back and I’d laugh at you. Ask me three years back and I wouldn’t talk to you for a week. But now…”

“Let’s add it to our pile of open topics.”, Eren proposed, “No need to worry about that now.”

With that out of the way, Mikasa grew more relaxed again. Just when Eren was returning from the bar with refilled drinks, she looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

“We should bring Ymir and Krista here.”

“Why is that?”

“Krista needs a confidence boost. She wants to top Ymir, but she keeps questioning herself, so uncertain about it all.”, Mikasa gestured around, “Being here, I think that it could bring her inner domme out.”

“From what I hear you are sure that there will be a next time?”

Realizing the meaning of her words, Mikasa smirked.

“I would want that. I like it here.”

“Ah, look at us ��� the quiet goth girl from the back of the class and the grade-a student. How far we’ve come.”

“Indeed, but I’m enjoying these changes. Do you?”

“As if you had to ask. When I’m with you, I’ll go for anything, and do you feel like stopping what we do?”

Mikasa’s black lips curled upwards as she shook her head.

“Hell no.”

This year’s birthday was amazing and Mikasa made sure to thank Eren properly once they got home. But the amazing night would have a sadder continuation because, despite all the great fun that she experienced tonight, Mikasa’s dreams were once again disturbed by an unwelcome visitor.

A nightmare.

[emmavhq]

isn’t that EMMA VANITY? yeah that is them, sitting there at the SLYTHERIN table with those other FIFTH years. when sybill looks into that crystal ball of hers, she sees a quidditch broom snapped in half, t shirts with ridiculous logos, newspapers spread across a desk, large breakfasts of muffins, eggs, and bacon, collections of autographed quaffels and snitches, makeup spilled over a bed. anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty PASSIONATE, DOTTY, and CYNICAL. apparently they’re a NEUTRAL and HALFBLOOD but i’m sure that’s not related.

September 3rd, 1960, a day that could live in infamy as Emma Vanity never let her classmates forget that she was the oldest person in their year. Overtly ambitious and clever, naturally born to lead, Emma Vanity exemplified the traits of Slytherin house. 

However, it was funny as neither of her parents were Slytherin, so she really came into the house knowing no one. Mr. and Mrs. Vanity  both were writers for the daily prophet. Her father being a sports cover and her mother a desk editor. They expressed some concern over it all, surprised that their happy-go-lucky daughter was not more suited to Hufflepuff as they both had been.

Emma’s first major decision at Hogwarts was to join the quidditch team. After years of following her father to games, sitting on the sidelines, the little blonde was extremely determined to go. At her first tryout, she offered to try and play whatever position was open, finding herself playing Chaser one year, seeker the next, (Keeper another) and often rallying between the two. It didn’t take long for her to become the team Captain, leading with a vigor and encouraging her teammates to dedicate their souls to each practice and game.

That all changed at the end of last year. Emma had not her focus, not seeing the bludger headed towards her. To this day, no one is sure which team’s beater was responsible. The ball smacked into her leg, Emma trying to keep herself flying instead was redirected into the nearest flag pole with her broom cracking in half right under her. Her body made contact with the wood of the pole the whole way down, landing on the support beams below the stadium seats. She sustained injuries to her arms, legs, back, and head. 

Nowadays, the scars on her arms are faded, but the one at the back of her neck would always be visible. She’d let her hair down since, a mask to hide her great failure. 

The experience, and weeks of attempts at St. Mungo’s to help her out of her concussion and coma left her traumatized and afraid of flying, never mind the sport itself. Emma’s dream was to play professionally, but now that dream was on the back of a shelf. 

Nowadays, she puts up a brave front, trying to put forward light hearted airs despite how disheartened she’s become. She’s quite aware how silly she can seem, but right now that almost feels better than being taken too seriously. After all, she had always been considered a bit of a goof.

She doesn’t want to be doted on, but she doesn’t want to bear the marks on her arms anymore either. She can hide behind her own jokes, a new found interest in trying out makeup, even a renewed interest in trying to improve her grades, but it’s quite clear how she feels. 

She spends plenty of time hovering over a little radio, listening into games, and wrestling her owl for the morning copy of the Prophet, jumping immediately to the sports section. But with the year coming to an end, Emma thinks she may have a chance to reclaim her spot...if only she can get the guts to do it.

FACTS

She’s a little tired of most of the slytherin student’ schtick about who they are

Lately she hasn’t been talking much to anyone in her house, the personalities just seeming farther detached from reality

She isn’t competitive when it comes to classes, but defends her teams to the death, even forcing people to stay quiet while she follows teams on the radio

For a former quidditch star she is quite clumsy on her own feet.

Emma is uncommonly clever but usually uses this as humor rather than to get ahead.

She values ambition almost above anything else, her own was to become a professional player but that dream has been placed on the shelf

Sometimes she feels as if people think less of her, leading her to come across prideful. She’s just become cynical over what is worth pursuing

Her parents think she could consider a sport career in reporting but she isn’t sure that’s for her. she needs action not reaction

PLOTS (I will make her full WC post in a little while)

- Quidditch bros 

- Friends who don’t get how such a doofy girl could be in Slytherin

- Tense relations with her classmates in Slytherin. She’s a halfblood, but also just thinks they take themselves so seriously and think who they are. 

- Oh, Captain my Captain, - The people who still want to see her get back up to the game

- Tutor - She’s trying to do better in school with OWLS around the corner, and she needs some help in several subjects

- Tell-All- Just her best girlfriend in the world, absolutely no secrets here between them

- Community - Emma seems a lot like a tv show character, so I could see her in this sort of “misfits/found family”crew.

- Crushes - She is the type of person to get a crush, never tell anyone about and just bury it deep down inside of herself and die with it

- Crush on her - Who wouldn’t love a quirky, not-take-herself-so-seriously gal?

- Maybe, maybe, maybe someone who is mutually into her? Like I said, she’d choke down whatever she’s feeling so this is someone with lots of confidence to pursue it. 

- The beater who likely performed an illegal move - My idea is that during the game, the bludger hit her because a beater defied some quidditch rule or other (isnt there like a million rules idk) This could have been a team member who was freaked she may want to try playing Beater next year, somebody from the opposing team, or just a total accident they feel guilty about!! The game was a rainy one so its possible it was never seen.

I WILL THINK OF MORE PLEASE LOVE HER

[thenamesseven]

Plot: You have a really bad feeling about Jisung’s race tonight. He keeps saying he will be okay but deep down you know that something might happen. In an attempt to drag him out of the race, you find yourself riding with him.

Warnings: Some swearing, mentions of death (but nothing too strong)

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Mafia/Street racer au!

A/N: Shoutout to the anon that suggested this! I‘ve never written something similar to this and it was pretty fun to do it! I hope you all enjoy this ^^

“Promise me you’ll be careful” 

The words escaped your lips before you even had a chance to stop them. No matter how embarrassing they were, how out of character it was for you to say something like that, the thought of losing Jisung because of a stupid car race scared you to death. 

Jisung smiled sweetly, jumping down to the ground from the hood of his car he had been sitting on besides you, with his hands in his pockets, Jisung lifted his eyes from the dusty ground to stare at you. Placing his hands on the hood of the car he managed to trap your legs between them, allowing him to get closer to your face “Are we going to get cheesy now?” He asked smirking, holding back a laugh when he saw you rolling your eyes as a response to his teasing, you honestly were not in the moods for his jokes tonight “It’s not like we’re dating, you rejected my dinner invitation”

“I said I would think about it” You huffed quietly, pushing him away when deep inside you only wanted to pull him closer to you. “Didn’t want to go on a date with you last night just to watch you die on the road tonight”

“I’m not going to die (Y/N), chill” Jisung chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms on his chest “I asked you out yesterday because I felt like doing it” He shrugged playfully, not realizing you were ignoring all his attempts to cheer you up “I thought kissing you before letting you go home would give me some luck for today’s race” He laughed at his own words but it all soon faded when he noticed you didn’t even smile at him. Since you heard his friends Jeongin and Minho talking about how dangerous is opponents were tonight really freaked you out which made you try to convince him not to race but him, being the proud mafia guy he is, would never ever back up from a challenge, not even for you, his biggest crush. “Hey” Jisung’s smile softened and sadness tugged his heart when he saw your eyes getting watery with worried tears, before you could say something or move away to avoid his touch, he pulled you forward into his arms engulfing you with him warm and hot body.

Your hands unconsciously gripped the back of his jacket as you dig your face against the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent “Jisung just back down this one time, please?” You begged, his opponents didn’t like to play clean, they were cheaters and didn’t care about people losing their lives “If you die I will never ever forgive you” You whispered desperate, attempting one last time to keep him safe and sound by your side.

“Let’s do a bet” He proposed with a small, hopeful smile. Maybe if you saw he wasn’t as worried as you were he would calm down “Like the one we did when we met, alright?” He leaned back, both hands cupping your cheeks as he looked into your still sad eyes “If I win, you’ll finally date me and if I lose you’ll never ever talk to me again” Both of you knew there was no losing in this one, he either wins or dies.

“Let me ride with you then”

The determined tone in your voice might have surprised him but it definitely surprised you too. Never have you ever, in all the time Jisung and you have known each other, proposed racing with him. He knew you hated cars and how dangerous they were, you despised and didn’t understand the shot of adrenaline he got whenever he stepped on the gas pedal to fly on the road, dodging other cars, dodging death. 

“You’re not coming with me tonight” He shook his head “I’ll let you ride with me in my next race but not in this one” Jisung shook his head, determined to reject your idea

He didn’t know how stubborn you could be when you really wanted something “You either let me ride with you or I’ll ride with that driver over there that hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he got here” Jisung glanced at the guy you were talking about just to realized that indeed, his eyes were glued to the curve of your ass “He’ll say yes before I can even blink” You smirked, pulling your hand up to wave at him with a bright smile, the guy waved back at you almost immediately. “You said you wouldn’t die right? Then take me with you”

Jisung moved away from you frustrated, knowing that the possibility of being seriously injured -if not killed- tonight was pretty high. He knew that you were too stubborn to change your mind once it was set on something and he also felt like even when you would still be in danger, you would be safer in his car besides him rather than riding with some random dude who didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Looking at you, he felt the pressure of having his life in your hands, really making him consider backing up from the race for the first time in his whole life. He didn’t back up because his pride and ego were too big, he wouldn’t back up of the race because even when he was crazily in love with you Jisung wanted to show everybody that he still didn’t have a weakness. You weren’t a weakness for him, you were a reason to be brave and get through every single dangerous obstacle life put on his way. 

“Get in the car” Jisung said sighing, running his fingers through his hair as he glanced down at his watch. The race was about to start.

Getting on the passenger side you saw how Jisung casually leaned back against his yellow Lamborghini Aventador, arms crossed on his chest as his eyes followed the car that protected the people he hated the most, an enemy he had since he started ruling these streets. The guys rolled down their windows and smirked when they saw you inside, making you feel slightly intimidated, why did they look so happy? Again, the bad feeling that had only grown worse since you got here, took control of you allowing anxiety to have the spotlight of the moment. Your chest seemed to get heavier and the temperature of your body decreased even when, for some reason, you were sweating as if you were wearing a jumper in the Sahara desert. 

“Last chance to join the public” Jisung said with a sympathetic smile as he opened the door of his side. By just taking a look at your face he knew you were scared shitless but the fact that you wanted to take the risk of dying in this car with him tonight meant everything to him. “I won’t be mad if you want to get out of the car (Y/N)” He sat down on the driver’s seat, buckling up right before fixing the reviewer mirror.

“We’re in this together” You muttered clearing your throat, straightening in your seat as you buckled up too “Ride or die, remember?”

“How could I not”

The following minutes passed in slow motion for you. As soon as your eyes spotted the girl standing between the multiple cars prepared for the biggest race tonight, everything around you started moving in a really slow pace increasing the sound of ordinary noises such as your own heartbeat mixed with Jisung’s and yours breathing. You could hear people cheering and making bets incredibly loudly in the background getting hushed just by the roaring engines of the cars, you could smell the gasoline, you could taste the anticipation as you saw her pulling the flag up.

“We’re going to win this and I’m taking you wherever you want in the world (Y/N), you better think of a place during the ride because we’re taking a fucking plane tonight after this”

You looked at Jisung hearing the tension, the fear in his voice. He was not only trying to convince you but also himself about the two of you winning this race. You saw the usual little frown that appeared on his face whenever he got too focused on something, you heard his knuckles tightening around the leather of the steering wheel and then the flag dropped.

Along with your heart. It literally stopped beating.

Your eyes automatically closed when you heard the lamborghini’s engine roar as soon as Jisung stepped down onto the gas pedal, you had been trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming, you had tried to look brave for Jisung but you turned into the scaredy cat you were when the car started moving. Your hands were gripping the leather seat, probably ruining it since your nails were digging into it, your back was pressed up against the seat too since the vehicle was going too fast for your body to even move an inch. 

Minutes and minutes passed and you refused to open your eyes, sometimes somebody bumped into the car, sometimes Jisung would take sharp turns or even speed up more, the only thing he didn’t do during the entire time was slow down. It wasn’t until you heard him laughing that you were tempted to take a peek of what was going on.

“We’re almost there (Y/N)! We’re almost there!” Jisung shouted laughing, hands still gripping the steering wheel with so much force that his knuckles were turning white.

A genuinely happy smile came up to your lips as you started shouting incoherent stuff with him. None of you knew what the two of you were saying but it was mostly along the lines of ‘fuck yeah!’ or ‘we did it!’. Laughter and happiness filled the car when the two of you heard the cheering of the crowd getting closer and closer, you could even see Chan and the rest of the guys already celebrating Jisung’s victory.

Unfortunately, the problem didn’t came until Jisung stepped on the breaks.

“Jisung?” The two of you were dangerously close to the victory line and Jisung wasn’t slowing down even one bit, you thought he was doing it on purpose, just to show off a bit more or even to let you enjoy the few meters that were left now that your eyes were opened but when you turned to look at him as he frantically stepped on the breaks over and over again, you knew this was it. 

It was game over for the two of you.

“I-I don’t know what’s wrong” He stuttered, his body tensing up once again “Everything was going too well...Those motherfuckers probably did this while we weren’t paying attention” Jisung gritted his teeth, pressing the honk so hard that it wouldn’t surprised you if the whole city heard it. People started noticing something was wrong, panick was getting control of the whole situation.

“Now what!? Jisung there’s a lot of people there!” He stayed quiet, looking through his reviewer mirror “Jisung!” You shouted desperate, people were starting to notice he wasn’t slowing down and you could see the uneasy look on their faces.

“We’re going to have to jump” He announced camly “Take off your seatbelt and jump as soon as I tell you to” You looked at him with your eyes open wide, your heart beating a mile per second “It’s going to hurt but you won’t die, I won’t let you” He muttered, eyes glued to the road as he prepared himself for what was coming “(Y/N), I’m not joking, if you don’t jump when I tell you to then you’re not getting out of this one...God fucking dammit!” He screamed hitting the steering wheel, losing his cool for a second

“Okay” You muttered breathlessly “I’ll be fine, I’m going to be okay as long as you are too” Jisung nodded, hearing your seat belt coming off just as he took off his.

“Open your door” He muttered seriously “I’ll jump after you, need to turn the car around so those people there don’t get run over” 

“What? You need to jump too Jisung! What if you die! Jisung you ha-”

“Jump! Won’t say it twice (Y/N)!” 

The glare he sent your way told you he was being deathly serious and if you wanted the plan to go well you needed to listen to him. Staring at the hard ground for a couple of seconds, you took a deep breath before closing your eyes and letting yourself fall forward out and away of the vehicle. 

At first, the shock was so big that no pain came to your body but then as you noticed you were still alive and rolling away on the road, the burning sensation of your skin being scratched and your head getting hit with the floor for a couple of times hit you hard. You let out painful and weak groans, struggling to stand the pain that was overwhelming your body. Eventually you stopped rolling, laying on your back as your head fell to the side just to watch Jisung jump out of the car seconds before it run over his enemy’s car.

Your breath got caught in your lungs when fire painted the dark night sky as soon as the two cars exploded, Jisung was nowhere in sight and you couldn’t find enough strength in your body to stand up and see if he was okay, if he was alive.

“Jisung” You whispered, eyes getting watery as you attempted to sit up but couldn’t “No..no...no” A sob escaped your lungs when your eyes kept staring at the fire hoping to see him, to see something that would tell you he was okay. “Jisung” You tried calling his name louder but it wasn’t loud enough.

Suddenly, as if he had heard you, a shadow appeared in the fire, fighting it’s way through it and towards you. When your eyes went up to the shadow’s face and saw it was Jisung, more sobs escaped your chest simply glad that he was alive.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted, running and kneeling down besides you as soon as he got to you. His hands were on autopilot and before he could think what he was doing, he pulled your upper body up against him, pressing you as hard as he could to his chest “We made it...I told you we would made it!” He looked at you with the sweetest smile on his face, eyes meeting as his thumb wiped away your tears.

“We made it” You repeated chuckling, keeping your arms around him while people started approaching the two of you to check if you were alright

“Ride or die, my love?” He whispered kissing your head “It will always be ride for us, no matter what”

[pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow]

Y’all, hear me out.

So we all already know that Crowley and Aziraphale are ready to protect every single LGBT kid/adult/person in London from anything, but consider, BEELZEBUB.

Beelzebub gets chucked onto Earth for a small mission (as punishment for the ‘crowley getting away’ fiasco or whatever) and ze isn’t exactly happy to be here, but then ze sees a little girl. The girl should’t be anything special, but she’s playing with the flies, chattering to some of them, splashing in the mud to get closer to them, and the sight makes Beelzebub uncomfortable enough to finish zeir mission immediately and spend the next ten years (demons and angels have a strange concept of time) drinking.

But ze can’t forget, so ze goes to visit the girl again. She’s older now, and she doesn't play with the flies anymore. Instead she draws and writes about how she is a fly, she screams and cries and breaks down and then gets up and draws and writes and speaks until her voice is hoarse. There’s something strange about this, and Beelzebub doesn’t know what until ze realizes something.

The girl is acting like some of the demons from hell. Not all demons are inherently evil and horrible, and even the ones that are aren't always like that 24/7. There’s plenty of more “soft” demons around, ones that fell for asking things, for not agreeing to seeing their friends fall, for trying to prove the innocence of a banished angel, and all of them do something similar. They all cry and scream and destroy the walls, but they also get up, keep going, keep the gears of Hell churning, and there’s something mildly upsetting about seeing a human girl do the exact same things.

Beelzebub watches as the door to the attic the girl is in opens, watches as the presumable father walks in and starts berating the girl for everything, escalating until he’s screaming in her face. He screams about how disgusting she is and how much of a freak she and her friends all are, how she’d be better off dead, all sorts of things, and then he rips off her bracelet, a pink and orange one, with different shades on it, almost like a flag. The man seems even more engaged whne he sees the bracelet, screaming about sinners and hell and lesbians and sodomy, and then he moves to hit the girl.

Something in Beelzebub snaps at this, and ze moves without thinking, biting the man’s head off and covering his body in a swarm of flies. The girl blinks in shock and seems to be able to do nothing more than stare. Beelzebub spots the bracelet and kneels down to pick it up.

“Here,” ze says and hands it back. She thanks zir and that’s when the shock seems to start wearing off as the scene sinks in and she scrambles away from zir.

That’s what ze gets for doing something Beelz muses as ze flies out. But as ze’s almost out of earshot, ze hears a scream. “Thank you for saving me!” and it’s loaded with so many emotions at once.

Beelzebub decides to stay a little longer on Earth, citing to the superiors that ze believes there might be a new cult based on this strange flag ze saw and ze wants to ensure they are tempted to sin.

Basic research shows the bracelet to have been a lesbian pride flag. More research explains that a lesbian is a woman who is attracted to exclusively other women. Beelzebub is a little behind the times, but ze doesn't fully get the concept of why pride is necessary for this. Or why it’s such a big deal. SHE wouldn't care in the slightest if some of Her flock were like that, but apparently this was something that mattered to humans.

Beelzebub walks down the street and then ze sees a silhouette on a rooftop, a young boy (Ze has the ability to read auras, and some can tell the gender through an aura as well), and he appears to be ready to throw himself off at any moment. Then Ze senses a demonic presence, and Crowley dashes up to the boy like a madman, and starts enigmatically talking to him. Beelzebub strains to hear, and gets snippets of reassurance and doubt and confidence and Crowley’s reassuring and comfort gradually helping the boy step back.

The duo makes their way back onto the street somehow, and as they pass zir, ze overhears Crowley telling the boy that nonsense, gender wasn’t what’s between someone’s legs, he’s all the more a man for being able to survive in a body that feels wrong, he’s trans too, really, let’s go to Crowley’s house, right this way, you’ll love it.

Several days later ze sees the boy walking down the street again, but now it’s with more confidence. But there’s also something brimming deeper inside, some anger, and Beelzebub decides to tempt them just a little. Steal it, ze whispers into his ear, it would make you so happy. And the pharmacy overcharges for hormones anyway, you should strike back against the man, steal it, steal it, steal it, and yet the boy ignores zir. Ze almost feels offended before ze reads the boys thoughts a little more, and the mantra of steal it, steal it seems to be playing on an endless loop in there. The boy’s angry and tired and upset, but he’s also resigned to his own fate. This is somewhat interesting.

Beelzebub does research and finds out about the stigma against LGBT people. Ze searches for them on the streets, and ze speaks to them. The gay kid punching the wall stops hurting himself and goes to beat up the guy who hurt him for so long, revenge and wrath in one. The bisexual girl finally kicks her father below the belt, punches dear ol’ mom in the face, and runs to the nearest shelter after almost a year of abuse. The trans woman steals hormones from the pharmacy for the younger kids, she wants hormones but she’d rather they have what they need before she takes any for herself.

Crowley and Aziraphale find them eventually of course. The boy shows up at the bookstore for their gay cafe event. The girl runs in screaming for sanctuary late at night. The woman is drawn to the shop after seeing the snake in the window, and all of them go in and heal the broken pieces. But it’s only because first they get their anger and brokenness out there in the open, shout until their throats are raw, hit until their fists are bleeding, run until they feel content, and Beelzebub helps them with this part. Ze helps them feel a little more sick anger and pride for a while, if they’re really as sick and depraved as everyone keeps telling them, why not be sick and depraved to the fullest, why not punch homophobes, why not date who they want to and snog whomever they damn well please? But most of them are also good people deep down, so they also help others, and they go to find help for themselves.

Crowley sees Beelzebub walking two teenagers to the shop, invisibly sending them thoughts of how if the owner gave either of them flack for their neo-pronouns or dress style they could always run away or smahs the bookstore windows with a brick. The two demons make eye contact, and Crowley nods a thanks to the Lord of Flies before saying hello the two teens and gently steering them into the bookshop.

There’s a strange form of friendship, or co-workerness, between them after that. Crowley still hates Beelzebub with a passion, and vice-versa, but they’re willing to come together on the idea that morally grey is also acceptable. At a protest Crowley is the one who causes havoc on the homophobic side by setting off sprinklers or turning holy water to vinegar, and Beelzebub tempts the allies and LGBT members to fight and scream with new passion, tempts the bible-banging homophobes to argue with one another until they tear themselves apart in hate. And both demons nod to one another, and part ways.

Crowley and Aziraphale take in the people looking for shelter and hope and healing. Beelzebub finds the ones who want to break and destroy and scream and helps them get the urges out of their system before ze brings them conveniently near the shop.

Crowley and Aziraphale protect the happiness and the healing, Beelzebub protects and supports the angry ones, and ze acts like a guardian demon to them, watching over London with a keen eye and small spies everywhere, the flies.

And even though neither of the ineffable husbands ever mentions it explicitly, they silently thank Beelz for sending the people their way every time another one comes to them. One of the earlier arrivals was a young femme lesbian, pale as death under her dark skin and she tells them the story of a swarm of flies killing her step-father and letting her finally run from home.

That was the proof that Crowley needed to know that there is a guardian demon in London, one that isn’t him, one that still does care about the humans, and it’s a weight off his shoulders when he sees the flies sitting on the windowsill, as though they’re watching too.

[mlovesstories]

You Know What You’re Doing Part 12 (Final)

Warnings: break-ins, obsessions with Hollywood stars, cussing

Word Count: 2100

AN- Last part, hope you like it! 

@spnbingo square- none 

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Come on! You promised!” YN dragged her foster dad through the house to the backyard.

“Okay, okay!” She tossed Jensen a baseball mitt.

“Ready?” She grinned.

“Please don’t kill me. I know you have a strong arm,” he winced.

“Ugh. Fine then.” YN threw it to him with little speed. 

“I can handle more than that, you weirdo!  Okay, give me what you got. Let me back up.”

Once he was settled into his place, she threw it as hard as she could. He jumped out of the way.

“YN! You are SO grounded!” He jokingly stood back up.

“Sorry!” She laughed.

“Don’t do that. Ever again. I’ll die of a heart attack or a freaking head injury!”

They played toss for a while before Jensen saying his arm was tired.

“Lame. Such an old man,” YN giggled.

“Whatever, small fry,” Jensen picked her up and carried her over his shoulder into the house.

“Ah!” She screamed with laughter. When he put her down on the couch, he landed on the cushion next to her.

“That was fun. Thanks, kid.”

“Too bad you’re too old to keep going!” YN rolled over, gasping for air through her laughter.

“Hey!” Jensen grabbed the TV remote and a basketball game showed on the screen.

“Who’s playing?”

“Dallas and San Antonio.” Jensen looked at her to see if she had any interest.

“Sweet. Can we watch it?”

“Until the munchkins wake up from their nap, sure.”  

YN felt so much better about her relationship with Jensen as he left for Vancouver. Danneel even noticed a difference.

“I know you miss hiatus, but school is about to start, and you’ll be busy,” she smiled at her foster daughter.

“Yeah. Yay for school tomorrow…” YN sighed.

“You’ll be okay, YN. You can do it,” Danneel encouraged.

————

“Hey, YN,” a boy walked up to her while on their ten minute break between classes on the first day of school.

“Umm, hi.” She looked him up and down. “Who are you?”

“Ryan. So you are an Ackles, huh?”

“No…” She started backing away from him with a skeptical raised brow. “I need to go to the restroom, excuse me.” YN turned on her heel and sprinted to the closest restroom.

YN text to Danneel:

This guy is creeping me out. He was asking how I was an Ackles. Whatever that means. It was weird!

Danneel:

Maybe he is just trying to be a friend. Now get off your phone and go learn!

YN:

Fineeeee

———-

“Hey, Ackles!” Ryan flagged YN down in her fourth period class.

“Umm. Hi, Ryan.”

“We have a few seconds before class. So what is it like being an Ackles? I mean, your family is famous.”

“Ryan-“ she tried to interrupt him.

“Your mom is hot! And your dad is so cool-“

“Sit down, everyone!” The teacher shushed the class.

————

YN practically ran to Danneel’s car.

“Get me out of here.” YN opened the car door quickly and climbed inside next to Danneel.

“What, why?”

YN saw Ryan trying to flag her down.

“NOW!”

“Okay, okay,” Danneel pulled out of the parking lot.

On the ride home, YN explained how Ryan kept bothering her.

“He kept saying I was an Ackles, and you were hot, and-“ she took a breath. “It made me feel weird.”

“Okay, okay. Just relax. I’m sorry you felt threatened though. That must’ve been scary.”

“Yeah!” YN sighed. “Can we just go home now?”

“Yep,” Danneel ribbed her foster daughter’s arm soothingly.

———

The next day, Ryan chased after YN in the hallway.

“YN Ackles!”

She turned around.

“I AM NOT an Ackles! My name is YN LN. Stop calling me that, please,” she took a breath.

I want to be but I’m not….

“Sweetie-“ he reached to touch her face.

“Get your grimy hands off me now, or I swear you’ll be on the floor in two seconds.”

“Aww, come on,” Ryan tried to caress her cheek. She blocked his arm and spun him around so that his wrist was touching the small of his back. YN kicked the back of his right knee to make him land in a kneeling position. “Ah!”

“Stay. Away. From. Me.” She let him go, and he fell forward. Everyone in the hallway looked at him, but they kept moving.

————

“Did the school call you?” YN entered the car after the last bell rang.

“No,” Danneel answered suspiciously. “Why?”

“Ryan tried to touch me, so I put him to the ground.”

“What?! Why would he do that? I’m going to talk to the princi-“

“No. I took care of it. I don’t think he’ll be bothering me anymore.”  

“Okay. I’m very proud of you, sweetheart. Good job standing up for yourself,” Danneel smiled.

————-

“Go to bed, please,” Danneel walked into the living room at 12 midnight.

“I have to finish this extra credit that’s due on Thursday.”

“It’s Monday. You have time. Come on.” Danneel bookmarked YN’s place on her assignment and shut the book.

“Okay- AH!” She screamed. YN noticed a light scanning the room and a figure in the tree outside. He knocked on the window.

“Get in the kitchen. Now!” Danneel screamed.

“Hi, Danneel! I love you!” The person screamed through the wall.

YN called 911 from behind the living room wall. Danneel met YN in the kitchen soon after.

Before they knew it, the screaming from the front window stopped.

“Ryan?” YN and Danneel stepped outside and saw the boy being taken to a police car. “What the hell?”

“Hi, Danneel! You’re amazing, and I love you!” Ryan yelled over his shoulder as YN and her foster mom watched in shock.

“He was trying to get close to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it!” YN shrieked and ran back through the house entrance.

Danneel chased after her.

“You didn’t know, baby!” She caught the girl’s arm and spun her around. Danneel pulled YN into a hug as the teen gasped for air with tears streaming down her face. “It’s okay,” the mom said soothingly. They were interrupted by Danneel’s phone ringing. She saw Jensen’s silly expression displayed on the screen. YN’s eyes went wide. “Don’t worry about that. Just breathe.” Danneel presses the red button to ignore the FaceTime phone call.

“I-I didn’t know,” YN hiccupped.

“Not your fault,” Danneel rubbed her back.

The phone went silent, but YN’s phone started ringing. Jensen’s face showed on the screen.

“Yes, Jensen?” YN wiped tears from her face.

“Diaz said there was a call to our house?”

“Who?” YN sucked in a breath.

“He’s a cop friend of ours,” Danneel answered.

“He said there was a disturb- why are you crying?”

YN started shaking. Danneel took the phone from her, and she explained what Ryan had done.

“I’m coming home,” Jensen commanded authoritatively. Danneel saw YN shake her head ‘no’.

“Stop, Jensen. We are fine. The kid is gone. We have to talk to the cops now. We’ll call you later.”

Jensen opened his mouth to disagree, but his wife hung up.

After talking to police, Danneel and YN found out that Ryan had an obsession with the Ackles Family. Danneel was his Hollywood crush, and he had no shortage of pictures of her on his phone. Once the investigative team left, both girls cuddled on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” YN whispered during a TV commercial break.

“Stop. If you say you’re sorry again, I’m going to make you watch one of Jensen’s golf tournament recordings.”

“No!” YN gasped but laughed. “Promise,” she grinned.

The ladies eventually passed out on the couch from their long evening. All of a sudden, the front door opened and slammed shut. Danneel and YN were startled awake. YN screamed on instinct. A phone conversation was heard, and the unknown person turned the corner into the living room. Danneel lied across YN in a protective measure.

“Jensen?”

“Hi,”’he smiled.

“Are you shitting me right now? After the night we’ve been through you couldn’t have called or texted me to tell me you were coming home?” Danneel clutched her chest in relief. She sat up from her position on top of YN and saw the girl she fly crying. “Asshole. You did that,” Danneel pointed to YN’s red eyes.

“I’m sorry, ladies,” he whispered as he hung up. Jensen turned on another light so that he could see them better.

“Jensen. Kitchen. Now.” Danneel stood, but YN latched onto her arm.

“No!” The girl screamed. “Don’t leave.”

Danneel crashed back into the couch next to YN.

“I’m going to put my stuff upstairs, be right back.” Jensen scampered up the steps. When he came back down, YN was rubbing her eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you, pretty girl. You’ve had quite the evening, haven’t you?” YN nodded. “Are you okay?”  The teen reaches her arms up to him from the couch. Noting her nonverbal communication, he pulled her into his chest. YN nodded into his plaid shirt. “Come here,” Jensen guided her back to the couch. He sat down and positioned YN into his side. The dad kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry that kid scared you. You couldn’t have known though. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

————

3 Years Later

YN’s 18th Birthday

“Jensen! Dee!” YN scrambled through the backdoor with a smile on her face after her friend dropped her off from school on a Friday.

“What?” Jensen ran into the kitchen with an alarmed look on his face. The teen ran into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Look!” She put a paper in front of his face.

“My daughter is on the Honor Roll at Johnson High School,” he read on a bumper sticker.

“The bumper sticker part is stupid, but I’m on the honor roll!” YN beamed with pride.

“Oh my- YN! That’s amazing!” Jensen engulfed her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair. Kissing the top of her head, he let go.

When Danneel entered, Jensen proudly told his wife about YN’s accomplishments.

“Wow! YN! You’re fantastic!” Danneel hugged the girl tightly.

“Thank you,” she responded in a whispered tone.

“Let’s celebrate tonight,” Danneel smiled. “Why don’t we go get some cake from The Cake Factory after dinner?”

“Could we?” YN grew excited.

“I don’t know why not.” Jensen grinned.

———

“James! I’m on the honor roll!” YN shrieked into the phone after her celebratory dessert outing.

“What?” He reacted. “I’m impressed and so proud. But I’m not surprised. Good for you, boo!”

“Thanks! I’ve never really cared, but I do this time,” she said, perplexed.

“You’re doing so good.“ The conversation was cut off by a knock at the door. YN hid in the kitchen. Still dealing with Ryan’s episode so many years later, she gave a scared reaction as Jensen walked toward the front of the house to open the door. “YN?” James asked. “You there?”

“Hi, Sarah,” Jensen said from the living room.

“James, I gotta go.” YN hung up quickly. She walked to meet Jensen in the living room. “Hey, Sarah!” The now-adult hugged her caseworker.

“Can we sit?” Sarah asked.

“Sure, come in,” Jensen guided the females into the front room. “What’s up?”

YN and Sarah grinned to each other.

“Is Danneel here? I would like her to be in attendance for this,” the caseworker asked. She winked at YN.

“I saw that, what’s going on?” Danneel entered. Jensen narrowed his eyes at YN. She wrung her hands in nervousness.

“Well. Now that I’m eighteen, I am officially out of the system. You promised me that I can stay as long as I want to.” YN took a breath.

“Yeah…” Jensen asked, confused.

“Thanks.”

“Why is Sarah here? We told you that months ago. This isn’t news,” Danneel put a hand on her hip.

“I was wondering… since I can stay, and you are paying for college, and all the stuff you would do for JJ, Zep, or Arrow-“ YN started shaking.

“What is it, sweetie? You’re scaring me.” Jensen took her hands in his.

“Since you treat me like your own, could I be an Ackles?”

“What? You are.” Danneel reacted, perplexed.

“No, like, have your last name,” she weakly smiled.

“You want to have our last name?” Jensen tilted his head.

“That’s why Sarah is here. I already started the paperwork. She has the documents you would have to sign if you want me to be an Ackles.”

“You ARE ours,” Jensen looked from YN to Danneel. His wife had tears in her eyes.

In unison, the Ackles’ responded.

“Yes.”

“See, Sarah, I knew what I was doing,” YN beamed at the caseworker.

“Yes, you did,” Jensen smirked.

————

THANK YOU FOR READING! ❤️❤️

If you want to enter my challenge, do that here: 500 Follower Challenge

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

You Know What You’re Doing 

@webcraft4eveh

@nothankyouhun

@fabinaforever11 

@bellero

@iamnerdperson

@wecantgiggleitsafandom 

Forever Friends (Everything):

@supernatural-crazed-girl

@katymacsupernatural  

@unicornblood4ever  

@ellie-andthemachine 

@fangirl-moment-x  

@empirialwolf

@winchesters-favorite-girl  

@super100012  

@waywardnewcomer  

@percywinchester27  

@waywardsuns  

@supernatural-jackles  

@mcallmestiles 

@mandyreese 

@sdavid09  

@kingandrear  

@bellero

@rosiewinchester

@seality​​​​ 

@blogsnowflakeme​​ 

@jaycc7983​​ 

@luci-in-trenchcoats​​ 

@cherryblossom1997​ 

@because-you-never-know-when 

@lauren-novak 

@sleepylunarwolf 

@fainthearteddaisy

@choosemyname 

@internationalmusicteacher

@mersuperwholocked-lowlife 

@find-sammys-shoe 

@encounterthepast

@spn-tw-37

@torn-and-frayed 

@dreaminemz

@giggles1026

@xiumin-girl99

@bertiemaklinn

@strangedeerconnoisseur 

@iamnerdperson 

@sbcamp08

@mangueweaschester

@girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

@skylarraker

@monkeymcpoopoo 

[cdrash13]

I survived your abuse.

I survived your stalking.

I survived you.

It’s not the first time that a man has hurt me, but it’s gonna be the last time; that’s a promise.

I lasted a year and one month. I ignored every red flag you put up while constantly adjusting my rose-colored glasses.  I told myself that you were justified in screaming at me...I told myself that NEXT TIME it wouldn’t last hours, I was wrong, it lasted days. Constant texts, facebook messages, and phone calls of your screams.

“You’re the worst girlfriend.”

“You’re so ungrateful.”

“You’re too loving. To giving. It’s such a waste of energy.”

“People don’t care about you.”

“Why would you go to the gym? aren’t you afraid of everyone laughing at you? You’re fat.”

“You’re so stupid.”

Sticks and stones may break my bones...but your words ALWAYS hurt me...

People who say they love you, wouldn’t say such heavy statements as if they’re fact: but your actions spoke louder then your disdain for me.

When I met you, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I was in the honor roll and struggling to distract my wandering mind from the heartache of losing my father. I worked three jobs and managed to still maintain a 4.0 GPA. I buried my feelings in the ocean of poetry and papers. I made a home in the computer lab and found solace in the work that told me: You have worth IF you apply yourself.

I applied myself.

That’s why you noticed me, so you claimed. You told me I was pretty, and that I must be pretty intelligent to go through so many books in a week; The truth was I just wanted to be the best that I could be. There were men before you...they told me I would never be anything.

They told me my worth was between my legs. They told me I could be glorified as a wife and child-bearer, not a human being. Deep in my heart, I knew your smiles were a ploy; you wanted me to love the facade you held up. Your goal was the same as the others before you: to cage me and clip my wings.

You stopped saying sweet nothings You started snapping at me if I walked too softly. You would shove me if I bumped into you. You told me I was sloppy if I left my things around your bedroom (even though you never cleaned.) Then the screaming started. If I became to passionate about a cause or belief, I was suddenly stupid. I wanted to fight for others...and you called me a punching bag for the weak. My heart sunk at your venom; for there was a time that I was weak...I needed someone, a protector. I wanted to be a fighter. I would be.

I didn’t let your words stop. I spoke out for those who were whispers against an ocean of screams. I took the shaming for those who couldn’t face the evil that was spewed towards their being. You laughed at me...you smiled, and told me that I was a fool. I felt confusion and pity for you. How could you be so heartless? what made you so callus towards those in need? How could you find pride in kicking people who were already down? Did you not realize that I was once in their place? Shamed and ridiculed for my suffering...no, because upon asking you, you confirmed that you had no empathy for people in the pit of suffering.

You didn’t even look at me, your voice was even. You told me that your heartache only suffered was in no longer being a child; you hated having responsibility. A part of me was angry at your response...how easy it must be for you. You told me with a smile that you had never been abused by your family, always had plenty of money to know you would eat the next day. You never had to worry about getting in trouble because of how wealthy your family is. I was so happy that you had been blessed...but when I would watch your family mock those who were less fortunate, I suddenly understood: You never stood a chance at knowing kindness.

The environment you were raised in only inspired pride. They told you that you would always be justified in tossing out hate to anyone who went against you; because you were a good kid. Would a good kid slut-shame women? Would a good kid mocks those with disabilities? Would a good kid curse those who are successful? Would a good kid break widows and punch through walls every time he was opposed? Your family encouraged Your bad behavior and didn’t question your outbursts, but I did.

It was three months in that I had ignored all the signs. It was three months that I had endured your insults, constantly mocking my drive to better myself. It was three months in that your shoving had become harder, even throwing my hand away if I reached for you; sometimes gripping my wrist tightly to threaten me for startling you. I stopped reaching for you...in multiple aspects.

Then the collision happened, the “accident”.

You had a vast knife collection, and enjoy twirling them as a habit. I turned at just the right time, the exact moment you decided to twirl the knife in my direction: with a jolt, I gasped. Looking down to my left hand that now had your knife in it. The knife was completely lodged into the side of my palm, all the way through and waiting to be pulled out.

I was trembling, trying to remember the basic medical training I had received in high school. I debated my options of heading to the hospital or stitching myself up with the emergency kit in my car. As I reached for the knife, bracing myself to pull it out...I heard your laughter. It was sickly sweet. I looked up to you and felt a tinge of nausea in how much you were smiling down at me.

“You’re so stupid. I can’t believe you stabbed yourself.”

What?

You should have apologized. You should have reached out to me, asking if I was okay. You should have freaked out at the fact that there was a knife through my hand, but you laughed at me. I told you to leave, informing you of what would happen once I pulled the knife out and the process I would take in repairing the damage that had occurred. As I stitched myself up, I wept silently. I knew that one day you would stop punching the walls...I knew you would stop breaking windows: I knew in my bones that you would come after me.

I was right.

One week before New Years, his lung collapsed. In the same week, my mother called me to tell me her cancer had gotten to stage four Lymphoma. I was inconsolable. I screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had lost my dad two years before liver failure: I couldn’t lose my mother. I couldn’t lose this man that claimed he loved me...because I justified the heartache. I told myself I had to try harder for you. So while working two jobs and going to school...I managed to stay three days in the hospital with you. I had stayed at your house, cleaning it from top to bottom so when you got home, you would be comfortable. Not even a thank you in my direction was ever spoken. I worked while staying at your home. You complained. Insisting I jeopardize my income to make sure that you had comfort in my presence.

I was at a breaking point. I was slipping. My friends reached out to me, my two dearest friends. They wanted to take me to a movie and make me a home-cooked meal; I remember to this day how the smile on my face felt when they loved me in that moment, that pit of heartache. When I told you I would be gone for two nights with my friends...you screamed and screamed and screamed at me. I couldn’t take the phone calls and constant messages, so I relented. I came to your home and found your entire family looked down upon me.

“You showed up. Good, he needs your support.”

I HAD BEEN THERE THE ENTIRE TIME. WHERE WAS MY SUPPORT?

I took my mother to chemo. I could hardly tell when I was sleeping or crying...it became a blur of sobbing in the college bathroom. Sitting on the bathroom floor and hoping that I could muffle my sobs as I begged God to not take either of you from me. I begged God to touch your heart, to make you stop screaming at me every time I entered the hospital room.

But then God spoke to me, like a soft breeze in the middle of Spring.

“Be still, for I am with you...”

The peace of the Lord covered me in an instant. I looked down to my left hand, the scar barely visible now...I wiped my eyes, I took a deep breath, and I decided that I would no longer be told that my love and effort was sufficient enough.

I told you it was over. I was leaving. You smiled at me, laughing. You said it was best if we don’t see each other anymore; you clearly thought I was bluffing. I remember the color draining your face when I got up, leaving you. Suddenly, we were back to square one: sweet words left your mouth like honey, begging me to stay, that you had changed...I ripped away from you.

And I ran. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. Each day without you brought peace, brought healing, and the weight of forgiveness. I wasn’t aware that you were outside of my workplace for months, I wasn’t aware that you were sending my friends messages about how you’re the only for me. I wasn’t aware that you were going to places I ate and shopped at, asking the employees about my well being.

But the phone came, the phone called that busted my sunshine, The phone called that made me want to vomit. A strange guy was outside of my workplace and had been for months.  I walked out, determination in my veins as I saw you standing there, faining innocence as I demanded that you leave me alone.

You would leave for a few days, but you came back. It progressed to weeks, and multiple new facebooks, adding me on every form of social media. You sent my friends messages, frantic and desperate to get me back. Back and forth through possession and obsession with me: you wanted to consume me.

I blocked every profile, clenching my left fist every time your name was mentioned. I told you this was it, leave me alone. For good. You begged and pleaded, like a wounded child. You told me you had changed, if that were true...you wouldn’t have to convince me. I screamed at you, I drew my line and told you to never cross it. I saw you falter as I stood my ground. I was free, I was finally free of you. You tried so hard to break me, you told me to love my cage.

I took one look and said no. I would fly, I would sing, and I would soar without you. I chose the sky, I CHOSE ME.

I sit here, and I look at my left hand. I remember how many times I have wiped my eyes with that hand. I remember how many times I got up each day, and did my absolute best to get through it all; the heartache and the suffering. I remember God’s words when I sat alone...crying my heart out as I listened to my sobs echoing off the walls...

“Be still, I am with you...”

I’m smiling now. My hand and my heart are healed. I will plant my feet on the ground and I will choose to never let a man treat me the way you did. My worth is enough, my love is sufficient, and I have overcome.

If you read this entire blog, thank you <3

This is the first of many blogs that I will be sharing. I hope that you found something, anything you needed in this.

Lots of love <3

[ti-bae-rius]

Pre-QoAaD release fic (Kitty) Part 2 of 2

(TW: The Cohort being assholes, mention of grief/death.) Obviously, LoS spoilers. This was kind of meant to be a fun little fic before QoAaD releases. Yes, I did leave this very late.

You can read part 1 here!

As soon as the portal guard checked their portal pass and marked it void with a stamp, handing it back to Ty, the two set off through the halls of the Gard. The moment they turned a corner, out o view and earshot, Ty stopped.  “Okay, the meeting is in the basement. I scoped the room and I found a place we can listen in from. Come on.” The two of them hurried down some stone spiral stairs and when they reached a corridor at the bottom, Kit looked along the walls that were lined to the floor with tapestries showing important events in shadowhunter history. Halfway down the hall, Ty reached out and drew aside a tapestry emblazoned with a depiction of Jonathan Shadowhunter and his sister Abigail. He saw Ty’s eyes linger wistfully on the art before he beckoned Kit. Ty pulled a hairpin from his bag and shoved it into the lock of a door behind the arras. “Don’t you have a rune for this?” Kit hissed as Ty jiggled the hairpin in the door. “My track record with open runes isn’t great,” Ty shot back. Kit nudged him out of the way impatiently and took the pin from Ty’s hand. In the fifteen years living with his father, Kit had learnt to pick a lock. The mechanism gave and the door popped open, the boys dashing in and shutting themselves into the dark room as Zara’s familiar voice came on the other side, along with dozens of footsteps. “That was close,” Kit breathed. A ray of light tore through the dark room. Ty had a small torch in his mouth, held between his teeth. He motioned to a ladder attached to the wall and indicated for Kit to climb. When Kit was a few rungs up, Ty started climbing himself. Pulling himself onto the platform at the top, Ty removed the torch from his mouth and put a finger to his lips. Kit took the hint. “Where are we?” he whispered, shuffling nervously closer to Ty.  “We’re in one of the box balconies. And down there,” Ty said, twitching aside the flag that hung over the balcony’s exposed side, keeping the boys hidden. Kit peeked through the makeshift curtain and saw the huge room below, a large circle of chairs dominating the space. A huge set of double doors creaked open and Ty readjusted the flag carefully. “Down there is the Cohort meeting,” Ty finished in a whisper, switching the torch off and casting the two of them into darkness, the space lit only by the half-light of the room below which was slowly filling with Cohort members. As Kit’s eyes adjusted, he could make out the vague shape of Ty beside him on the small balcony. Ty held his arm out and pointed to the rune he’d just drawn on his forearm by the minimal light of the main room below. He looked visibly uncomfortable and Kit understood why when Ty mouthed something: heightened hearing. Kit put his arm out and let Ty mark him with his second rune. It was strange, Kit thought, that all the runes he had were applied by Ty. No wonder Ty was uncomfortable; he was already way more sensitive to noise than Kit without runes. The burn of the stele as it touched his skin made Kit hiss in a breath and dig his nails into the meat of his palms. When the pain eased a little, the two of them focused their attention to the conversations of the meeting beginning below.

“My father being in charge is the best thing that’s happened to the shadow world for centuries,” Zara declared and a group mutter of assent rumbled through the echo chamber of a meeting. “Since Father has bigger issues to handle, I’ll be leading the meeting. Did you see he took the banner of that Downworld-lover, Alec Lightwood and put a photo of me up instead?” “It’s for the best. It’s not good for the shadowhunter children to see someone like that celebrated as a hero,” Samantha Larkspear said. Her twin, Dane, barked a laugh. “We could make a whole list of problems with that...I don’t even want to call him a shadowhunter.” “Well, he isn’t one. He’s with that Downworld whore, Bane, and one of his kids is a half-demon too,” Samantha said. “Gotta feel bad for the other kid though, the shadowhunter. He needs a real, shadowhunter family, with a mom and a dad. He needs saving from them.” Ty was boiling with rage. Magnus and Alec, and their sons, had come to look after them in London when Emma and Julian were in Cornwall, and they were the kind of family Ty had always kind of wanted. They were loving and affectionate and, regardless of the Cohort’s disagreement on Magnus and Alec’s child-rearing ability, Rafael and Max had two, doting and devoted parents, which is more than Ty had had in years. And the idea Alec didn’t deserve to be deemed a modern day Nephilim hero was so absurd Ty could hardly believe these people thought what they did. “We don’t have time to dwell on that mess of a family,” Zara said, though her voice seemed to communicate the fact she’d like to. “They’ve run off back to New York anyway. What I’m more concerned about is the fact that the Blackthorns have their tainted slut sister back.” She spat the words and they felt jarring and sharp, like venom flying from her lips. Ty wondered how many minds had already changed from that toxin, how many people had been poisoned.  “I can’t believe Jia Penhallow is Consul. How can she possibly be in government and let her daughter marry that?” Jessica Beausejours spat, the French lilt identifying her to Ty even though he couldn’t see her. He could feel himself shaking with rage, felt Kit’s eyes on him. Helen - his beautiful, caring, empathetic, understanding sister - was not a ‘that’. He forced his breath to even out, even as Jessica went on. “The funeral was...something.” “Yeah, something great,” Dane added. These four or so voices seemed to be dominating the space, though Ty knew there were at least another dozen people there. “I’ll give the Blackthorns this: they put on a show.” “I still can’t believe that Ty kid climbed onto the pyre,” Samantha grinned. “I can’t believe he didn’t stay there,” a new voice replied. Ty’s head jerked up in recognition. “If the freak burnt, it’s not like we’d be losing a shadowhunter.” Paige Ashdown, only 15, was part of the Cohort. And she knew too much. Ty knew there was a reason Julian had kept them separate from the rest of the shadow world, knew he was different. He wasn’t stupid; he knew his siblings weren’t the same as him. But Paige knew him. Paige could tell everyone what she knew, could ruin everything.  Kit looked across at Ty, who’d frozen. He was no longer shaking, just blanched and wide-eyed. Without a word, Kit shuffled closer to Ty and put a hand over Ty’s where it rested, braced on the ground, clammy and shaking. “Ty...” he began in a whisper. “Shh, I’m trying to listen,” Ty replied under his breath. He was moonlight pale but his jaw was set determinedly. If he was hurt - and Kit knew he was - he didn’t say anything, just focussed harder on the task at hand as the Cohort’s laughter died down and Zara spoke up. “We need to push for the Registry to pass. With my father being Inquisitor, we have the voice and clout in the Council we always should have. Families like the Blackthorns and now the Lightwoods prove that registering downworlders is necessary for maintaining pure, shadowhunter bloodlines. Honourable lines are being corrupted by tainted blood. As true, full-blood Nephilim, we can’t stand for it. It’s just simple facts; shadowhunters are superior warriors, so the purer the Nephilim blood, the better the warrior. It’s why I’m going to be the next Jace Herondale. I have pure blood. Father and I-” “Take a shot every time she says ‘father’,” Kit muttered and heard Ty huff a quiet laugh beside him that filled Kit with a strange sense of pride. When the two of them tuned back in, Zara was still talking. Shocker, Kit thought, rolling his eyes.  “Why should we dumb ourselves down to fight alongside-” “Say, ‘mudbloods’,” Kit said, under his breath. “Please say ‘mudbloods’.” “-shadowhunters who don’t have the same Angel-given talent because somewhere in their line, one of their family screwed around with downworlders and brought shame on the whole shadow world? It’s ridiculous!” The others muttered their agreement and Zara turned to Dane Larkspear. “Dane, what have you found out about the so-called honourable shadowhunter families?” “Well, we know the Lightwoods are corrupt now, but did you know that not only was Isabelle’s fiancé a vampire before he was a shadowhunter, but their ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, died of demon pox.” “No wonder the Lightwoods are so messed up,” Zara said. “It’s in their genes to be downworlders’ bitches.” “The Herondale line too-” Dane continued before Jessica interrupted.  “That’s not news, Dane. We all know that Tessa Gray bitch ruined their line. How Jace is still so amazing, I don’t know.” “I would totally kill that Clary for a chance with Jace Herondale,” Samantha giggled. Ty wondered how serious that death threat was. It was sinister paired with the playful laugh of teenage girls with crushes.  “You wouldn’t struggle. She’s like 5-foot-nothing and basically a Mundie,” Zara commented. “She really doesn’t deserve Jace.” “Anyway,” Dane said, clearly impatient with the girls’ gossipy chatter about Jace. “I’m not talking about that. That Kit kid is hanging around with the Blackthorns, he’s the lost Herondale from that traitor Tobias’s line.” He seemed satisfied with the wave of noise that went through the room at this. The mention of his name had made Kit’s palm sweaty where it rested on Ty’s hand. “Not only that, he’s descended from the First Heir, Auraline.” He paused for effect before he said the words that made Kit’s hand spasm. “A faerie.” However, this revelation was nothing compared to what Dane followed up with, voice alive with glee. “The Lost Herondale line have a nasty little habit of ending up dead in suspicious circumstances. It turns out, a little group called the Riders of Mannan tend to be behind it and they’ve already tracked Kit down and almost got him but Bane interfered. But, what that means is that the Unseelie King’s bloodhounds, the most deadly assassins in the shadow world, have their sights on one untrained fifteen year old with blood weakened by Faerie interference.” Dane almost growled the last words. “Kit Herondale doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Shit!” Ty looked across, about to shush Kit, but he stopped. Kit was rigid with fear, shaking like a leaf. From down below, a voice rung out. “Did you hear something?” “Kit, we need to go,” Ty said firmly, and flung his backpack onto his shoulders, turning the flashlight on and holding it between his teeth as he began to climb down the ladder. Kit didn’t move. “Kit,” Ty said awkwardly around the torch. Kit looked down and his fight or flight kicked in. He scrabbled to follow Ty and the two took off as a voice in the meeting hall confirmed knowledge of their eavesdropping. “I think we have a spy.” The two of them burst through the huge double doors of the Gard and out onto the crest of the hill, overlooking Idris in all its spacious greenery. Ty was mentally calculating. Kit was already breathing hard and Ty wasn’t sure the boy’s shaking limbs would hold out long enough for them to make it home before the Cohort reached them - they had horses after all. Diana’s weapons store was closer, but it wasn’t worth risking her not being in. Plus, seeking refuge there would mean having to explain what they’d been doing. Absolutely not. He could hear footsteps nearby. They were running out of time. If Livvy was here, she’d know what to do. Livvy. “Come on,” Ty said, and grabbed Kit’s hand, pulling him around the side of the Gard and into the private graveyard around the back.  Most shadowhunters went to the Bone City when they died. That’s where Livvy was, Ty knew, part of the monument of shadowhunters who’d died serving the Angel. But some families buried their loved ones in the cemetery behind the Gard. Kit walked dazedly over to a grave marked ‘Celine Herondale’. He faltered, a hand atop the tombstone. It felt cold and almost wet to the touch, like it had held centuries of rainwater and family’s tears in the stone. “I know she wasn’t from my line, but it feels weird seeing my last name on a gravestone,” he admitted. His voice sounded shaky and uncertain, like he wasn’t sure of the words before they were hanging in the tense air. The low temperature seemed to freeze what he said in place between them. “So, what now? That’s just it? Fifteen years of pleasant ignorance and now I have a target on my back.” He gave a laugh that sounded harsh and insincere. “This shadowhunter stuff sucks, y’know?” “You’re safe in Alicante,” Ty pointed out, lingering back a little. “The Unseelie can’t walk on Idris ground.” “So I just hide here forever?” Kit questioned, exasperated. “I just...hang out here with the Cohort until I die of old age or stress, whichever comes sooner?” “I’d hazard a guess at stress,” Ty commented. “God, I feel like I could cry,” Kit said, rubbing a hand across his face with a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Then you should cry. I won’t let them hurt you.” Ty sat down on the bench behind them. “I let them kill Livvy. I won’t let them kill you.” “You didn’t let them kill her,” Kit said, sitting down beside Ty. The stone bench held the same cold, almost damp feeling. “It wasn’t something you could’ve stopped from happening. One moment everything was okay and then...” “Then it wasn’t,” Ty finished. “Then it wasn’t,” Kit agreed. Ty looked out at the graves and sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “Is it bad I kind of wish Livvy had a grave?” “I don’t think that’s bad. Why do you wish that?” “I wish I could come and sit with her,” Ty said. “I could come and tell her about what I’m doing, about missions, about you and the others.” Kit glanced across and felt horror grip his chest when he saw Ty’s eyes were glassy. There was nothing he could say that would make this better. “I miss her,” he said softly, voice splintering like wood. It was the first time Kit had seen him close to tears since Livvy had died. It felt so much worse than the recklessness, but Kit knew it was definitely healthier than bottling everything up. Uncertainly, Kit edged closer until their elbows touched. “I know,” Kit said. He was casting furtive glances across at Ty and rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans before he put an arm around Ty’s shoulder. He felt Ty tense briefly, felt his own toes curl, then Ty relaxed and Kit felt the anxious knot in his stomach loosen a little.  “I know you do,” Ty said simply, looking out over the crest of the hill, above the headstones and turned dirt and yellowing grass. “That’s why I told you. I knew you wouldn’t think it sounded weird. Your dad died too.” “He was all I had.” “But now you have us.” Kit smiled down at his feet despite himself, “Yeah.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t care what the Cohort thinks of you, there’s a life out there for you, Ty. Maybe it’s a different one than it would have been if Livvy was here, but there is a life for you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but your life can go on. She’d want your life to go on, Ty.” “Will you come too?” Ty asked. “Wherever ‘out there’ is?” Kit nodded and squeezed Ty’s shoulder. “Of course I will.” He knew those four words were a promise bigger than he could fully comprehend, a solemn vow. He knew that and meant it anyway. Perhaps his life wasn’t as secure as it had been a year ago, a fortnight ago, an hour ago. But it was still a life, and without it he wouldn’t have felt Ty’s head loll against his shoulder, wouldn’t have heard Ty’s breathing slow as his cheek brushed the material of Kit’s jacket. It was still a life worth living, for as long as he could get away with living it. 

And that’s it! I hope everyone enjoys QoAaD. Once it’s released, I won’t be using tumblr too much but I’ll try and queue lots of posts (if I can remember how to queue after all this time!). I’ll still be online for a few more days, but I hope you enjoyed this fic. TDA means the world to me, and I’m so grateful to have journeyed through it with all of you. Here’s to TEC, TWP, and TLH. x 

[unspokenwordsofaginger]

Bearings of a B I P A N

This one is a special riff,

in which I shall no longer plead the fifth.

The mind it blurs the lines of time,

and memories get intertwined,

but these memories are not a gift,

they started in the grade of fifth.

It started with friend #1 and #2,

both of which I very well knew,

Friend #1

Of which will remain unnamed,

this stories hers all the same.

With many backgrounds from which we grew,

this one a blonde with a historic view.

Friend #2

which many of us know,

hung with the boys,

or so we thought so,

but one night, as slumber grew,

Friend #1, questioned Friend #2.

and as we begin to speculate,

flash forward to the grade of eight.

Friend #3 arrived in town--she’s new,

and did not know friend one or two.

She had an aura of something new,

self confidence, self esteem, and self love too.

We slumbered over many nights,

discussing many things in life.

Tooth and hair brushes, fantasies,

boys, crushes, and shaving above the knee.

These encounters brought up questions then,

but the exploration never did begin.

The feels, emotions, and secret sins,

kept in a vault, held deep within.

And as the joke, forms one more rhyme,

We head straight through seven and eight to get to nine.

In ninth we were divided still,

Transformed from Devils -----

into Rams, Crusaders, Riots and Witches too!

This new adventure, thus began,

a close inner circle, a friendship clan

I won’t disclose their names to you,

so, S M E A C K will have to do.

This school had many many floors,

with crooks and crannies and hidden corridors

Where rumors of teachers to avoid,

the whispers of which would leave you paranoid.

While many partied, in and out of bed,

I focused on my surrogate role, and remaining straight edge.

But as we rounded the ninth bend,

We entered grade number ten.

Now ten was fun, or I thought so,

it turned to be just a tub of Jell-O.

And in that moment, a timeline ends,

I lost one of my closest dearest friends.

And as the Fresh Prince’s Theme song sounds,

the next part is the story all about how,

my life got flipped upside down.

Friend #4’s story is relatively unknown,

but the pencil her dagger like the Sword in the Stone.

Her position on things is not yet know.

But she remained to be neutral and all alone.

Friend #1 had then found Friend #5

as she wasn’t afraid to let her freak flag fly

And thus began a dangerous crime,

of me using AOL Messenger to speak to older gentlemen online.

His name was “S”, and came from the state C---ticut.

And although I was quite naive,

I never sent any of myself to S –

But S to me I did receive.

There was some drama with #1,

leading to one such event, a personal one.

Above the garage, and in the house,

A Browser page and click of the mouse,

and in the darkness of the night,

my fingers found the maidenheads insight.

Grades ten through twelve were like no other,

filled with ups and downs and so much drama.

Friend #1 left to join #5

black and orange witches pride,

But Friend #1, had other female friends too.

And so the questions grew and grew.

Friend #6 joined sports and met her man,

and lost her card, one night in the back of a van.

Friend #7 we all know the cause,

I saved her life, a very close call,

I would have laid down my life to save you all.

Those three little words I said and still do say;

I mean them in the most sincerest way;

to all I meet and gain to trust.

Please know I love you all very much.

And then one night in the room with moons and suns,

I got to second base with Friend #1.

and Holy Shit, I mean Wow!

I wish I would have acted on this now,

for if I had I may have known,

the answers to the questions still unknown.

And so we close out that great time,

On prom night with Friend #9

He was a perfect gentleman,

too bad he preferred the gentle men.

College on the Island sowed,

unwanted thoughts, actions and prose.

Linda Jaivin’s Eat Me, raised a brow,

of this inexperienced novice cow.

And so met Friends #8, #10 and #11,

many of them familiar with Stairway to Heaven.

Socks and lanyards on doorknobs, you knew,

meant the two person tango that the humans do.

The kinks and cocks, before tik toks,

meant shops and raids of Dirty Dave’s (iykyk).

My first offense, a police raid,

polka dot tablecloth, a spike Chardonnay.

That was a great night a _ en WU,

something I told myself I would never again do.

This led me back to Black Bear’s Cove;

where Friends #12 and #13, as their stories go.

#12, A religious child, like Cinderella,

had done some sketchy shit with fellas,

but praying made all things right,

with things that take place late at night

#13 she could be the one,

her moms had known the meaning of fun,

and so had she on many occasions,

but she settled down with a man named -----.

Friend #14 was and still is my greatest wound,

I lost her friendship all too soon.

It was my fault in part to blame,

but in the moment I was ashamed,

or jealous, angry or upset.

That she’d chosen others without regret.

And later in life, I came to find,

She appears to be on the same side as mine.

Which makes me think, if I’d just been honest,

I wouldn’t be sitting here alone in this closet.

This closest of dust, and deep regret,

of questions which have no answers yet,

With more questions formed in entries filed;

#13 and #15 in this bloggers file.

I never was good with making labels;

so…

Hetero? Homo? Bi or Pan?

I think I might want to be part of the LGBTQIA+ fam.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi guys! Love the blog! Could you please rec some fics where Derek is Scott's brother? Thank you so much!

I’m so weak for a “Scott and Derek are Brothers” fic, can’t explain it but it really gets me where I need to be :P  Be sure to check out our Siblings!Derek and Scott tag for more fics as well.  Enjoy!  -Emmy 

Klingon by Angelwithwingsoffire 

(923 I Not Rated I Complete)   *polish!Stiles, scott/stiles

Scott and Stiles meet at a Star Trek convention and hit it off as friends. The only problem is that Stiles is Polish and doesn’t speak English while Scott is American and doesn’t speak a lick of Polish. However, both of them do speak Klingon.

So We Meet Again by stiless__halee 

(1,795 I Explicit I Complete)   *sterek, human au

Derek’s heart stops beating as he takes in the familiar face in the doorway. God, that creamy white skin dotted with moles looked even better than it did in his fantasies.

Finals Week by smokesforsterek 

(2,384 I General I Complete)  *sterek

When Derek Hale, your best friend’s weird, but totally hot, older brother shows up and offers to drive you and said best friend home for Christmas break the week of finals, how are you supposed to see it as anything but just a friendly gesture? And he definitely didn’t think about how weird it is that Derek asked if he could stay with him. Nope, not a bit.

or the one where Stiles is incapable of taking care of himself during finals week and Derek helps out. Scott ships it.

ADD, IED, and S-E-X by aqualewdity

(5,612 I Explicit I Complete)  *liam/scott/stiles

Scott barely sleeps as he’s either working on his films for school, or trying to drown out the sound of his brother Derek banging his girlfriend next door.  But one sleepless night with his friends turns their whole relationship inside out.  But maybe it’s better that way.

Let Your Freak Flag Fly by Laugh_at_the_girl_who_loves_too_easily, shakespeares_slut     

(6,107 I Explicit I Complete)  *steter, human au

It’s Scott’s birthday party and his Uncle Peter is being the chaperone . It’s Stiles first time meeting him and well, he is very attracted to him.

Little Spoon by bibliosexual 

(6,455 I Teen I Complete)   *sterek, roomates au

To save money while attending college in NYC, Stiles and Derek decide to rent one tiny apartment together. With one bed.

Approximation by inatshej 

(6,638 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek, human au, fake/pretend relationship

Derek’s type is a self-confident, blonde girl. Her grin is almost dangerous, her laugh’s loud, and she may seem arrogant – but if anyone has a reason to be arrogant, it’s her.Stiles’ type is a genius, strawberry blonde girl. She looks perfect no matter the time of a day, her taste’s impeccable, she’s popular as well as respected – but taken.They turn to each other, struggling with the choices and people around them.

Glad You’re By My Side by Reddwarfer 

(8,073 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek

Derek’s family situation has never been an easy one. Then, on a fateful night, it only gets more difficult. Thankfully, he has people to help him navigate it.

Sentimental Value by captaintinymite (augopher) 

(15,785 I Explicit I Complete)  *sterek, dragon!stiles, college student!Stiles, grad student!derek

Thanks to some pilfered cookies, Derek has nothing but disdain and suspicions about his brother Scott’s roommate when he comes to stay with them over the summer.  Derek will never admit he finds Stiles attractive, but he finds he’s having serious trouble avoiding his him, especially with the unsolicited, erotic dreams he keeps having at night about his brother’s best friend. As it turns out, the pair have more in common than first believed; they grow to enjoy each other’s company, and then some.But my how things change after a break-in results in a stressful situation for Stiles.

Pride and Werewolves by Benaya

(18,313 I Not Rated I Complete)

Pride & prejudice teen wolf style

Please Don’t Say You Love Me (Cause I Might Not Say It Back) by Tamyou 

(36,828 I Mature I Complete)  *sterek, mute!stiles

‘Derek glanced at Stiles, who’s smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards.

“Stiles is mute.” He said.’

AU in which Stiles is mute and Derek is a college drop out.

Of Joy and Faith by Jiaxing

(38,324 I Mature I Complete) *sterek, Supernatural crossover, rape/noncon, twins!Lydia and Stiles, past theo/stiles

Dean Winchester and his husband Castiel took their children, the twins: Stiles and Lydia and their younger brother Isaac to Beacon Hills. They were moving to Beacon Hills to replace the Argents as the guardian hunter family for the area. There was a treaty in supernatural community to have hunters to aid the werewolf pack that was serving and dedicating their life for the peace in one area against evil and dark powers. The Argents were betraying this treaty when Kate Argent was trying to massacre the Hale pack by using and deceiving Peter Hale and his nephew Derek. She was then killed by Peter before the said man went missing.

After Chris Argent died, after three years of vacancy, the Winchesters finally came to fill the role left by the Argents. Moreover, they were trying to escape the past that left Stiles broken and traumatized. Dean and Castiel were hoping the new place would be a good place for their children to start anew. Stiles was a bit pessimistic about this, until he met Talia Hale’s middle son Derek Hale. After all the heartbreak and betrayals, could Stiles and Derek open their heart to start believing once more?

The McCall-Hale Diaries by inlightofvisa, thestarkinmypants (inlightofvisa), whereisthebepis (inlightofvisa)

(42,635 I General-Teen I Series WIP)  *sterek

Basically, Derek is Scott’s older brother. Who steals Scott’s things and is generally kind of mean. And by that, I mean that he steals Scott’s best friend. And then starts going out with him. Who would’ve thunk.

But We’re Still Sleeping Like We’re Lovers by CharWright5 

(109,744 I Explicit I Complete)   *sterek, werecoyote!stiles, omega!stiles

There are several things Stiles Stilinski knows to be facts: he’s a werecoyote like his parents; his twin sister Malia could use a filter more than him; he’s an Omega and terrified of his upcoming heat; and Derek Hale-McCall will never see him as anything more than his kid brother’s best friend. Doesn’t stop Stiles from asking the Alpha to help him during his heat. Or from developing some serious feelings that go beyond the bedroom. Basically, he’s totally screwed, in more ways than one.

[darkxwonderland]

New RP Group (OUAT)

Once upon a time, the Evil Queen thought it would be interesting to curse everyone in the Enchanted Forest to a dark mirror world of Wonderland. In this new world, there is powerful magic that affects all inhabitants, making them slaves to their darker impulses. Greed, jealousy, lust, pride, vengeance, gambling…whatever their hearts desire but they were too afraid to do in the confines of their old existences.

The royal line in Dark Wonderland is divided. The Evil Queen became the Queen of Hearts and does remain a queen in title, but she enjoys her days of not ruling a kingdom and doing whatever she pleases, while Queen Snow and King Charming reign with their daughter next in line to the throne. What will happen to your favorite fairytale characters when their inhibitions suddenly don’t matter anymore?

*~*~*

The intent of this group is purely for dark, twisted, depraved kinds of fun. This is a mature, open-minded, judgment-free zone where you can let your freak flag fly.

If you are interested in writing for one of the open characters, please submit your answers via messages. Some of the following is a formality, but honest answers are expected.

Are you over the age of 18?

Do you have suitable knowledge of Once Upon a Time (you’ve seen at least the first two seasons)?

Do you have suitable knowledge of Alice in Wonderland (you’ve seen at least one of the movies)?

Are you comfortable writing dark and mature themes, including violence, sex, drugs/alcohol, and morally questionable content?

Which character are you interested in writing?

Have you written this character before?

What are your character’s dark impulses (list up to three)?

Give an example (between 1-3 paragraphs) of how they would go about fulfilling them in Dark Wonderland.

Open characters:

White Queen (Snow White)

Swan Princess (Emma Swan)

King Charming (David Nolan)

Alice Kingsley

The Hunstman (Graham)

Mad Hatter (Jefferson)

Cheshire Cat

Absolem

Rumplestiltskin

Pinocchio (August Booth)

Baelfire (Neal Cassidy)

Beauty (Belle French)

Cinderella

Sleeping Beauty (Aurora)

Maleficent

Tinkerbell

Red Riding Hood (Ruby Lucas)

Captain Hook (Killian Jones)

Robin Hood

White Rabbit (Will Scarlet)

Elsa (Frozen)

Aladdin

Princess Jasmine

(Ask if your desired character is not on the list; I may have forgotten.)

If approved to join, you may add all other members of the group, though you are not required to write with every member. Pick the storylines that call to you. There will be no activity checks, but if you intend to be inactive for more than a month, it is courteous to give notice. Life happens and we understand.

This will be a para to mutli-para zone, meaning you should have no trouble writing out three paragraphs if that level of detail is called for.

#Once Upon a Time #Roleplay #OUAT RP #Writers needed #Dark Wonderland #Alice in Wonderland

There will be no drama allowed OOC. We are all here to write and have fun, and we don’t need that kind of stress added to our lives. Giving out personal information is discouraged.

[femboyyghostface]

Nick Fury, Peter Parker, Hal Jordan(I know that's not marvel so you may not care), Black Widow, hawkeye, Loki, Thor

Nick Fury

sexual orientation headcanon

probably aro heterosexual

gender headcanon

cismale

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

NPD, Paranoid Personality Disorder

3 random headcanon

1) He doesn’t have and never will have social media, refuses to even think about it 

2) He’s a compulsive liar, it’s what happens when you have to keep government secrets for so long

3) He has a sweet tooth, mostly for cherry lollis. No one knows except for Coulson (who buys them for him on the regular)

Peter Parker

sexual orientation headcanon

Biromantic demisexual

gender headcanon

transboy

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

Anxiety and Autism spectrum

3 random headcanon

1) Is a Trekkie (AOS, mostly because that’s what he grew up with) who has tried to recreate the tech on it multiple times and has almost succeeded twice

2) One time as a kid he found a stray cat in an alleyway he probably got beat up in and tried to take it home, Aunt May almost let him, but the vet said she was dying and she didn’t want Pete to go through that

3) He built his first computer at 9 out of scraps of neighbors’s and what he could find in junk yards. Aunt May baked him a cake to celebrate

Hal Jordan

I’m sorry I’m not really big on anything DC that isn’t their awesome lady hero/villains so I have no clue about him. I wish I had something to give you :/

Natalia Alianovna Romanova

sexual orientation headcanon

demiromantic bisexual

gender headcanon

Ciswoman

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

PTSD, Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder

3 random headcanon

1) She doesn’t know how to explain her emotions (alexithymia), which is why people tend to get the impression that she feels nothing (except for when she does) Clint is the first person who knows how to tell what she’s feeling and act accordingly. Tony figures it out next, out of fear or understanding or a mixture of both. Next is Steve, then Sam. Each Avenger figures her out one by one until she doesn’t need the words she doesn’t have.

2) She’s very protective of who she considers Her’s. The Avengers all belong to her in her mind and it’s her duty to protect them. Every time someone gets hurt on a mission she blames herself, and if anyone hurts them she immediately plans revenge Natasha style (one time, after Steve officially came out, some guy posted a video saying some shit about how he needed to step down because “Captain America shouldn’t be a f*ggot.” A week later he was in jail awaiting trial for a crime he swears he didn’t commit.

3) She steals everyone’s clothes. One morning she walked into the training room in Tony’s shirt, Clint’s boxers, Bruce’s socks, Steve’s sweatpants, and a sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like one that was up in Thor’s room for when he was visiting Midgard. Tony and Bruce have a theory she does it to establish dominance (and it’s working), Steve and Clint think she just likes having something of her friends’s 

Clint Barton

sexual orientation headcanon

Pansexual

gender headcanon

Nonbinary (he/him)

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

PTSD, Dyslexia 

3 random headcanon

1) On missions when they get caught he hides his hearing aids and Natasha pretends she can only speak Russian. 

2) Once Bucky is back and he’s out of the ocean prison they become super close. Bucky sees a reckless blond and has to adopt him. Clint sees an angry cuddly assassin who speaks Russian and it’s almost a compulsion. They always make sure that through their bust schedules and missions and significant others that they have time for each other to hang out.

3) Clint falls asleep in the air vents of the Avengers tower probably way more often then a grown adult superhero should. The first two times it happened the entire crew was freaking out thinking Clint got kidnapped or something (JARVIS eventually let them know he was in the air vents above his and Natasha’s bedroom) after that whenever they couldn’t find him they just assumed he was in the vents.

Loki Laufeyson

sexual orientation headcanon

Greyaromantic Androsexual

gender headcanon

Genderfluid (ze/zir, they/them, he/him ) 

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Avoidant Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Oppositional Defiant Disorder

3 random headcanon

1) Loved dancing growing up. Ze used to dance with Thor all the time when they were younger. Ze still remembers Thor spinning zir around the old ball room when ze was still a young teen. Thor was clunky and never followed the steps they were taught, but Loki always enjoyed it

2) Freya used to read them stories every night when they went to bed. They would curl up with their head on her chest and she always used different voices for characters, Thor would sometimes join the two, on nights where he wasn’t claiming to be “too grown up for such things”

3) Thor and Freya never got his pronouns wrong. They always just knew. Odin was never one to pick up on such things and it took a glare from Thor or an elbow to the ribs from Freya before he would correct himself. It’s what started the rift between them in the first place.

Thor Odinson

sexual orientation headcanon

Panromantic pansexual (he just loves everyone so much okay???)

gender headcanon

Cis

mental illness / neurodivergent headcanon

ADHD

3 random headcanon

1) He collects Midgardian coffee mugs. Ever since he learned that you are not supposed to break them to show enjoyment he developed an attachment to the fragile glass. Everyone always buys him new ones with different designs when they know he’ll be stopping by (they have a picture library of all the ones he has so they don’t buy him the same one twice. not that he would mind)

2) He goes to every Pride parade he encounters. I’m talkin’ every single one. One year he spent the entire month of June bouncing from city to city (flying or having Heimdall totally “misuse” to Bifrost is dealers choice) to make sure he made an appearance at each one. Jane had bought him the pan flag and he had it in place of his usual cape. 

3) He has counted every single freckle and scar on Jane’s body, and Steve’s body (which doesn’t scar), and pretty much all the Avengers except Natasha (she told him she would flay him alive and “As intimidating as you are, a simple no would have kept me at bay.”) the Avengers and Jane think it’s kind of cute that he wants to know these details about his friends.

[brittanyyoungblog]

OkCupid Profile Examples for Women: Tips & Templates

If you’re having trouble with your OkCupid profile you’re not the only one. The app prides itself on having profiles that are longer than most dating apps, but you might be asking yourself what you could possibly say in 10 prompts that you couldn’t say in one short bio?

Well, quite a bit actually. I’m here to show you that you can (and should) say more in your OkCupid profile. Because on the OkCupid app, the whole game is to find your ideal match, whether your looking for a long-term relationship or one-night stand and that extensive profile is there to help two people (you and your future date) looking for the same thing find each other faster.

Here are some OkCupid profile examples for women as well as a quick overview of what the profile looks like and tips to give you some ideas and inspiration.

OkCupid Profile Overview Before we dive into profile examples for each section, let’s examine exactly what goes into an OkCupid profile since there’s more to take in.

General information This is the easy part and includes your gender, relationship status, orientation, height, body type, ethnicity, diet, drinking style, drugs and smoking style, religion, education, kids, pets, and language you speak.

My self-summary Well, in this case it’s your self-summary, but you get what I mean. This is where you’re going to need to use the bulk of your writing skills since it’s open-ended, is the first thing people see after your general info, and can include anything you want.

What I’m doing with my life This is included in almost everyone’s profile and can either be a short one-liner—something as simple as “I’m a teacher”—or a longer explanation of where you are in your life.

Additional profile prompts After the What I’m doing with my life section, OkCupid will give you around seven more prompts that include things like: I’m really good at, My golden rule, Six things I could never do without, The last show I binged, A perfect day, If I went to jail, I’d be arrested for, What I’m actually looking for, or Six favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food. Depending on the prompt you may want to answer with one sentence or a paragraph. It’s up to you but recommended that you do answer as many as you can.

OkCupid Profile Examples for Women

My self-summary Me: Just your neighborhood A dog-loving, marathon running, accountant. That’s me by day, anyway. By nighttime I’m tearing up the dancefloor at your local disco club. (Fair warning: I’m not a good dancer, just full of blind confidence.) You: Prepared to go on spontaneous adventures and luxurious vacations. Must love mountaintops and warm beaches. Sleep is for the weak.

Most people that know me would say I’m Fun-loving, funny, passionate and horribly addicted to my guacamole. Seriously. I’ll put avocado on anything. That said I’ll also share it with you, if you’re nice. Weekends are for binging BoJack Horseman reruns, improv, and picnics in the park. Mimosas anyone?

One day, I would like to climb Mt. Everest. Don’t you know it’s dangerous? Yes, I do, thanks. Aren’t you scared? Just a little. Don’t you think that’s a little… If you have any more doubtful questions, just move along. I’m a big girl and I’ve been climbing since I was a little kid. I want to stand on the tallest point in the whole world and no one’s going to stop me. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be end up in the party.

Tip 1: You in a Nutshell If you ran into the love of your life in an elevator and you had eight floors to catch their fancy, what would you say? This is a good exercise for writing a basic self-summary. Try boiling your life story down. It’s good to start with your job, your hobbies, your passions. Are your friends everything? Do you have a dog that you love dearly? Oftentimes, just this info can offer enough insight for someone glancing over your profile to decide if they should send you a message. So be genuine and be brief.

Tip 2: Passion is Sexy It’s okay if you’re not at the top of your career yet or don’t have it all figured out. The key is “yet.” Passion, confidence, and dreams are attractive, and you can share that stuff here. So whatever it is that you yearn to do in the bottom of your heart, shout it loud and shout it proud. It’s okay if you’re not quite there yet. There’s nothing wrong with that. And who knows, you might find a partner for the journey.

My patronus is A black and white cat. I was hoping for something noble like a lion or stag. Heck, a llama, even. Nope. I got a housecat. If you take the Pottermore quiz and get a dog or a mouse or something like that, feel free to message me. J.K. Rowling is trying to tell us something.

I like to make paintings. Wow, that sounds weird. I like to paint paintings. I’m a painter. Not quite Frida Kahlo, but miles ahead of high school art class. I’m self taught and always look for any excuse to get into my studio (read as tarp on my kitchen floor). Firm believer that there’s nothing quite like the feeling of a brush stroke on canvas or walking through half your house before realizing you’ve left trail of acrylic paint footprints. Artsy or fartsy, holler at me!

My weirdest quirk I was born with an extra toe on my left foot. (It was removed, so don’t ask to see it!) I’m also a competitive partner dancer, who can keep balance for the life of her outside of the dance floor. Is there a connection between ghost toe and my deficiency? I don’t know, mom, is there??

Tip 3: What do you do to pass the time For the doers and makers, movers and shakers out there, what are you doing and making? If you have a closet hobby, what is it? These little quiet passions add depth to your profile. They really help other daters get a feel for who you are. You don’t have to be a master cross-stitcher or certified metal worker, but these activities will make it easy for others to connect and give you something to chat about.

Tip 4: Quirky is in, so let your freak flag fly Yep, it’s true. We’ve officially embraced the weird. It’s a good time to be a nerd, geek, or just a little bit out there. There’s no perfect “normal,” so tell people what makes you different. Acknowledging the things that make you unique and loving them is a great way to show confidence, which is always attractive. Putting your quirks in your profile will always set you apart from the crowd.

Six things I could never do without Water, food, air, shelter, clothes, human attention. There’s probably more, but that’s the best I can do right now.

I value My family. I know it sounds corny, but I’m not ashamed to say it. Family comes first. Blood is thicker than water and all that. We’ve been through a lot together and in those hard moments our strength together is what gets us through. No doubt about it.

I spend a lot of time thinking about The universe and how small we are in it. I could watch space documentaries for weeks on end—that and listen to Neil Degrasse Tyson’s voice. I feel like I’m smarter listening to anything he narrates. Cosmos and chill?

Tip 5: We are what we need We all have the things we need—whether it’s family, god, or Taco Bell’s Crunchwrap Supreme, the things we love aren’t going to change anytime soon. Incidentally, they’re also a great way to show other daters what you’re about. Remember the key is to find common ground and show personality.

Tip 6: I am defined by If you have core beliefs that you can’t do without, best to get them out in the open. Waiting till your tenth date to reveal that you’re an environmental activist and ethical vegan may not be the best approach for finding a compatible mate. The things that keep you up at night keep other people at night too.

A book everyone should read The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. A friend group parties across France and Spain and teaches us that “classic” books don’t just have to be a slog. It’s a quick, fun read, but still makes you feel the feels. I finished it this summer in just one day and it left me lost in thought and wondering about my next raucous party.

My favorite bands in high school Smash Mouth, and Yellowcard. I know it’s embarrassing. Please don’t judge. I’m ready to be better now I swear! Message me with your most embarrassing fandom, so I know it’s real.

Best day of my life so far The first week after I got my puppy Benny we went to the dog park for the first time. He ran in circles for 10 minutes before tuckering himself out and passing out in my lap belly up. We spent the rest of the day munching on doggie treats and popcorn watching the Flintstones. It’s been three years and he’s still the love of my life, but we’re open to meeting new people.

Tip 7: Artsy and fartsy Talking about what we read and what we’ve seen is house we shoot the breeze. This is your opportunity to get intellectual with your obscure book recommendations or relive your angst of your teenage years with your favorite high school bands. This could be a genuine way to make a connection through sharing your refined current taste or poking fun at your poor past taste. That’s up to you.

Tip 8: The perfect day For some of us it’s finding 20 dollars on the ground. For others, it’s a day of hiking with your best friends. Either way, the little things that rub us the right way say a lot about what we like in our partners. Being honest and fun here will get you more messages (and will help give other singles some good ideas for dates).

My relationship with my mother is the perfect friendship, which is how it should be! We’re a tag team duo for yoga and brunch (sometimes back-to-back). I share almost everything with her, so if you’re going to be mine, you’re going to have to be hers, too. Proud mama’s girl through and through.

You should message me if you’re looking to date in a low commitment, long-term relationship. Finishing up school is my number one priority right now, and I can’t give too much to a deeply invested relationship. You should also message me you’re career driven (it’s attractive!) and can keep up a good banter (also attractive!). Driven, smart, funny, that’s the combo~

I will never date someone that thinks that vacations are for relaxing. Time away from work is for scuba diving, surfing, sightseeing, and anything else that involves not sitting still. I live for adventure and I’m looking for someone to tag along (and occasionally lead the way). Think you’re up for the challenge? Submit your application below. *Due to high volume of incoming applications, we sincerely apologize that we can only reply to the ones that we think are the best fit for this position.

Tip 9: Be upfront and open It’s okay to be genuine. In fact, it’s the best way to be. Being a vulnerable in dating means that you’re confident in sharing yourself, that you’re not worried about being hurt by what people think. Now that’s a good way to be.

Tip 10: Honesty is the golden rule Honest is the best policy. Always has been and still is. If you’re looking for a particular kind of relationship this is a good place to put it out there. Being forward about what you want may save some time and pain coming from mismatched expectations later down the road. On a more simple dating app, you might be able to leave this sort of stuff out, but because OkCupid is so comprehensive it doesn’t hurt to add.

So that’s it! Go ahead and get out there. OkCupid has a longer profile than most other apps, but in the end it’s not too different. As always, the key is to be funny, genuine, and honest. Your natural attractive qualities will shine through. Good luck!

The post OkCupid Profile Examples for Women: Tips & Templates appeared first on The Date Mix.

from Meet Positives SMFeed 8 https://ift.tt/2w1GtWX via IFTTT