#re: clary.

[paraheronstairs]

jace thinking of clary as “his Clary” means the world to me

[clarythericebot]

Francesca: Wow, this is intense. Do all runners have to do this?

Dr. Myers: Just the ones that want to live.

[karouvas]

so 😕 about how Tessa has all these moments in internal monologue about how deep down she’s always known Aunt Harriet making excuses for Nate wasn’t right and that he didn’t deserve all they both did to coddle him and that she always compartmentalized to see him as a good older brother, and how that’s all come to the surface now she knows he was willing to sell her out (though not the full scope of that) but then when Mortmain comes she still instinctively doesn’t tell Nate and goes instead ‘to protect him’ ugh. Like it feels so real as a depiction of a woman internalizing societal norms even though part of her is aware…

[inkykeiji]

Do you plan or expanding the tag! universe anytime soon?

I love how realistic it portrays addicts and the people around them (at least in my experience)

Sending lots of love clari ❤️❤️

oh gosh thank you so much for this!!! that fic is so so so special (& personal) to me, and it’s really special to hear that it resonated with others as well!! <3 ah unfortunately at the moment i have no plans to expand my tag you’re it universe aside from like, one tiny oneshot about dabi teaching reader how to fight that i have yet to finish (ha ha ha) but!!!!! i’d love to write a christmas series set in that universe tbh! or even explore the dynamics etc after the three of them live together. so, maybe one day! but anytime soon??? probably not (◞‸◟；)

[clarislam]

Writeblr Re-Intro: Feb. 2023 Edition!

Hi there, fellow readers and writers! I’m Claris (she/her).

I write a wide variety of works including poetry and fiction. I also post book reviews and fanfics weekly, though expect more of my focus to be on original works this year!

Click here to check out my website! Or, if you want to read a fuller-length version of what I’m up to for this month, click here to read my official February 2023 writing update post. 

See this Carrd to find links to my website, other social media, and fanfiction!

Fiction:

I published the first book in my murder mystery series, “Winner Takes All: A Harlow Mystery” in June 2022, and you can click here for more details about it! Please feel free to support me by buying a copy, spreading the word about it, or even requesting your library to get it in their e-catalogue. I appreciate all the support in my writing journey.

I’ve also had some short stories and poetry published in various literary magazines and collections, and I hope to have more pieces published this year!

Currently Pitching/Querying:

“Sadie’s Search For The Missing Necklace:” A kidlit fantasy book inspired by Gwyneth Rees’ Fairy Dust series and Daisy Meadows’ Rainbow Fairy series. As of this writing, I just pitched this book to a traditional publisher and (hopefully) they’ll let me know by late April/early May latest if they said yes to it or not! Wish me luck!

Current WIPS:

A fantasy novel inspired by the video game series King’s Quest. I am currently still writing its first draft and I’ve spoken a bit on this blog about how it’s going so far. I hope to figure out a working title by the time I finish writing the draft! The goal is to finish writing the draft by the end of this month.

"An Engagement To Die For:” The sequel to “Winner Takes All,” the murder mystery that I self-published last year (June 2022)! It’s currently going through some beta readers at this time.

Fanfiction:

You most likely know of my writing fanfiction for The Last Story, Bravely Default/Second, and Escape The Night.

I’m currently posting chapters for a The Last Story/Super Smash Bros. crossover fanfic! You can read it on either Fanfiction.net or Archive Of Our Own!

Check out the posting schedule on my site (or on my Tumblr blog) for what you can expect to see from me!

What I usually post here on Tumblr:

Links to my posted book reviews, and other important news from my official website

Links to any new fanfics or fanfic updates

Musings of a writer

Funny writer-related memes

Writing advice that I think can be helpful

Positivity!

Commentary on video games, fiction novels, and other fandom-related material that I usually don’t share on Twitter/Facebook/my official site.

I hope you enjoy reading my works, whether it be my original fiction, poetry, fanfiction, book reviews, or anything else I share!

Want to follow me? Find links to my website, related social media, and other works through this Carrd!

[bpdanakins]

i know it's a million years too late... but the opportunity they had with anakin and finn... them interacting... anakin mentioning the dream he had about freeing all the slaves... finn being the one to do it...

[cassandraclare]

Hi Cassie!! Sorry to bother you but I feel like Ty would be more likely to have panic attacks than Dru. I have evaluated the situation and Ty seems to have more trauma and anxiety than her. Adding onto that I’m hoping Kit and Ash don’t have too similar powers. I feel like Kit should be more powerful as Ash only as Ash didn’t get much powers especially since the king didn’t have the black volume the whole time he had Ash. I also think Kit she be more powerful than Magnus for reasons.

I've gotten a lot of emails about how Ty should be the one who has panic attacks, not Dru. Usually the idea is that he should have panic attacks because he has 'more trauma and anxiety' than Dru, specifically because of Livvy's death and Ty being "more close" to her.

The thing is, that isn't how characters work because it isn't how people work. “Amount of trauma” is not an objective measurable thing, and not everyone responds the same ways even to the same things happening to them.

Of course Ty and Dru have both experienced trauma. But it is not as if there is a certain "level of trauma", like "level 6" beyond which everyone has panic attacks, and Ty is a trauma 7 while Dru is only a trauma 5. None of that is how people work or panic disorders work or really how anything works. The question is a lot about, I think, an anxiety that somehow because Dru has panic attacks this means the narrative will consider Ty to have no trauma at all and be dandy about everything, and I can only say that that's not the case.

One thing I rarely see acknowledged in these letters is that Ty is not grieving Livvy currently. Everyone else in his family is, but he lives with her, she talks to him all the time, she's entirely present in his life. Yes, she is a ghost, but people can get by on a lot less than Ty has with Livvy. I think it's worth noting that what Ty is currently experiencing re: Livvy is not grief but denial.

At the end of the day, there are all sorts of ways of responding to trauma and grief. The acknowledgement that someone has been through trauma is not something they have to earn, nor are panic attacks a thing given to one character at the expense of another who has somehow deserved them more. What is important about how characters respond to loss and trauma is that it be consistent with the character and their growth, and that's something that can't be evaluated before a book is read. :)

As for Kit having the most powers of anyone, well, we will see. It's not really how power works in the Shadowhunter world. We don't spend a lot of time thinking about whether Clary or Magnus is more powerful because what they can do is so different, and what Kit and Ash can do is also very different. Also in evaluating who gets what power level I would say it's important to consider whether they will be friends or deadly enemies – which is something we don't yet know!

[echojulietfoxtrot]

I dip in and out of Taskmaster, but I am 100% here for Tumblr re/discovering Julian fucking Clary.

Even the "one of the Golden Girls grudgingly getting involved in this whole mess by accident" vibe he brings to Taskmaster is itself hilarious to me, because back in the 1990s I was literally not allowed to watch anything he was on, in case he did something like this, again, live, for an audience 13 million people -

(Lamont was a UK government minister who was present)

(Clary was effectively blacklisted from live tv for it, and several papers campaigned to ban him from television altogether)

(Incidentally I think that might be Armando Ianucci down in the bottom left corner at 40 seconds in)

[syluscore]

Mother’s Day ~ Various RE Characters

I did 6 different Mother’s Day prompts for Leon Kennedy, Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, Clarie Redfield, Carlos Oliveira, and Ada Wong x fem&mom! Reader

Specific content warnings will be included for each passage, so proceed with caution! There are triggering topics, especially in Chris’ passage so please please please read the content warnings before each passage.

Happy Mother’s Day if you’re a mom to any sort of living thing or if anyone has ever sucked on your titties. You deserve to be celebrated! <3

!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

Leon Kennedy: Going into labor on Mother’s Day

Content warnings: pregnant reader, talk of reader being uncomfortable in her pregnant body, feeling big while pregnant, contractions, water breaking

It had been a long nine months so far. You were almost 41 weeks pregnant, having gone nearly a week past your due date. For weeks now you’d been having contractions here and there, but you still hadn’t entered active labor. You weren’t sure if it was possible to get any bigger or if your body could hold this baby in any longer. If you sneezed too hard, you felt like maybe he would just fall out of you.

“He’s not gonna just fall out,” Leon said, holding back a laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d been speaking out loud, but you’re so out of it most of the time anyways. It’s been impossible to get any good sleep the last month with how uncomfortable your body has become.

“You’re right, I’d never be so lucky,” you grumbled as you tried to get up off the couch. “Leon, help me. I’ve no core strength, I’ve sunken in and might never escape the couch,” you threw your hands up in the air and waited for him to come and lift you.

He wrapped his arms under yours and pulled you up. Once you were standing up, you were immediately lightheaded and leaned your head into Leon’s shoulder as he kept you steady.

“It’s not fair, he was supposed to be here by Mother’s Day! I’m spending my first Mother’s Day blown up like a Beluga whale!” you whined into his shoulder.

“He must be comfy in there,” Leon said as his hands massaged the sides of your large belly. “When he comes out, I’ll give him a stern talking to.”

“Ugh, you’re really starting to sound like dad now. But he does need that stern talking to. I don’t care how cute he is, he must answer for his actions!” you laughed with Leon. He continued to hold you in his arms. He knew how exhausted you were and would do absolutely anything to help you right now.

“Oh shit,” you groaned as you felt your lower belly tighten up. You didn’t need to tell him, Leon knew it was another one of your sporadic contractions. He rubbed your back and comforted you as you breathed through the pain. After a few more seconds, the pain finally passed.

“Okay, okay I think I’m good now,” you spoke as you pulled your face from Leon’s chest and smiled up at him. Suddenly, you felt like you were peeing yourself as liquid poured from between your legs. It quickly soaked through your pants and started to puddle on the floor beneath you two.

You stared down at your feet confused for a few moments before realization hit you and you whipped your head up to look at Leon. His eyes met yours as you excitedly yelled, “My fucking water broke! Holy shit, it finally broke.”

“He heard us talking about his eviction notice,” Leon smiles cheekily at you. You breathe a sigh of relief, he’s finally going to be born and your body will be free at last. But the relief didn’t last long as the anxiety began to creep in.

“Oh fuck, I have to give birth to him now. No, no-no-no-no,” you looked at Leon with fear filled eyes.

“Well, that’s the only exit route unfortunately,” he said before gently kissing your lips. “Happy Mother’s Day, huh?”

“Ugh, he’s definitely your son. At least we already know he inherited his father’s terrible fucking timing,” you said, causing Leon to chuckle.

“Well,” he said, “I guess we better go have a baby now.”

~

Jill Valentine: Deciding to have a baby

Content warnings: divorce joke, talk of titty sucking, talk of baby making, reader not wanting kids until she met Jill

“Are you actually kidding me? Babe, what the fuck?” Jill couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve sucked on your titties countless times, Jill! I owe you a Mother’s Day present,” you pushed the gift bag closer to her. Jill shook her head as she pulled the tissue paper out of the bag. She lifted the plaque out of the bag and stared at you in disbelief. She rolled her eyes and turned the plaque so you could see the giant words ‘If I could have any mommy in the world, I’d still pick you. -Y/N’

“Did you get this fucking customized? What is wrong with you?” she spoke teasingly. She stood up and grabbed a hammer and some nails from a drawer. “Where should we hang this?” she asked you as she surveyed the room.

“You’re going to hang it in the living room?” you asked suspiciously. Out of all the reactions you’d been thinking of, her displaying the gift wasn’t one of them. “You don’t have to do that-” you spoke, but Jill cut you off.

“No, I’m going to treasure this forever,” she told you with a determined look on her face.

The next ten minutes was spent finding the perfect place and helping (getting scolded by Jill for not holding things for her properly) put the plaque up. She stared at it for a solid minute deciding if it was lopsided, before she finally decided the work was satisfactory and sitting back down on the couch with you. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something actually,” Jill said, biting her lip nervously.

You raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh God, don’t tell me you’re asking for a divorce on Mother’s Day of all days. I told you you’d never be able to get rid of me, I’m not going anywhere bitch!” Jill laughed at your teasing, some of the tension leaving her body.

“Oh please, you’re stuck with me, you know this,” she pulled you into her chest and wrapped her arms around you. “I’ve just been thinking about what the next five years of our lives look like.”

“I hope it looks good?” you asked confusedly while raising an eyebrow at her.

“It looks perfect, but,” she paused as she contemplated her next words, “Have you ever thought about having kids? I know we’ve talked about it briefly and we both weren’t sure, but it’s just been on my mind lately.” She looked off into the distance, worried about how you’d respond.

You were silent for a minute before you burst out laughing, “Jill Valentine, do you want to put a baby in me? You want to fill me with little Valentines?” Her gaze darted back to you as you stared at her cockily. Jill couldn’t fight back the smile that spread across her face, pulling her tongue between her teeth in an attempt to keep it at bay, but ultimately to no avail.

“I suppose that’s what I was getting at, yeah,” she blushed as the words left her mouth.

You placed a gentle kiss to her cheek before speaking, “You know, I never really thought I’d have kids. Never really wanted them for most of my life. But, god, at this point I am just a womb for you to fill. I’ll give you all the kids you could ever want and I’ll be so happy to do it.”

“Of course, I should’ve figured you’d be eager to have my babies,” she teased you. “But seriously, do you want to have a baby with me? I know you like to joke around, but I need to know if we’re seriously doing this,” her face was full of concern and it made your heart melt.

“Let’s make a fucking baby, Valentine,” you spoke, pulling her lips to yours.

~

Chris Redfield: Fertility issues

Content warnings: infertility, miscarriages, pregnancy loss, depression, more talk of baby making

Chris decided to take you out to a fancy dinner for Mother’s Day. You’d been trying to have a baby for about five years now and had talked to fertility doctors several times. In the end, they decided there wasn’t anything specifically hindering you from having a baby, it just wasn’t happening. You’d been pregnant a few times over the past few years, but you’d always lost the pregnancy. Chris never blamed you and always took care of you, but you still felt incredibly guilty. He wanted kids and you weren’t able to give them to him.

You’d told him repeatedly that you didn’t need to do anything for Mother’s Day. In all honesty, the day was extremely depressing to you and you weren’t sure if you could make it through a night out. But Chris wasn’t having any of that, he practically begged you to come out with him tonight and you finally agreed. The night had been going incredibly, but there was still a melancholy feeling surrounding you. 

Chris had just ordered the two of you desserts and another round of drinks. He wasn’t holding back at all tonight and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at how sweet he was. 

“Hey, I know you told me you didn’t need anything today, but I did get you a gift,” he told you, pulling a small ring box out of his jacket pocket. You raised your eyebrow in confusion before a giggle fell from your lips.

“Oh god, are you proposing to me again? We’re already married, or did you forget?” you teased him. He shook his head and smiled back at you. He handed you the box and encouraged you to open it.

You slowly opened the box and inside it was the prettiest ring you’d ever seen. The silver band swirled around in the middle, forming the letters spelling out the word ‘mom’ and two small diamonds were on either side of it. It was small, simple, and gorgeous. You bit your lip as tears swelled up in your eyes as you met Chris’ gaze.

“You’re just as much a mom as anybody else. I wanted you to have a constant reminder of your strength. Four little diamonds for each of our little babies,” he explained to you as you reached out for his hand and held it in a tight squeeze. 

“It’s gorgeous, Chris,” you told him as he grabbed the ring box off of the table and pulled the ring out. He held it in his big fingers as he reached for your right hand and slid it down your ring finger. “Thank you,” you said quietly, a tear falling from your eye.

“I’m glad you like it,” he leaned across the table and pulled your head forward to meet him in the middle. He gave you a firm, short kiss that had your heart melting. You both returned to your seats as the waiter came back with your desserts and drinks.

Once he walked away, Chris spoke, “Besides, I thoroughly enjoy trying for a baby with you. I think I’m perfecting my technique. Soon, I’m gonna get it right and put a baby in you.” You laughed as a blush rose up on your cheeks. He stared at you, smirking.

“Well, time’s a wastin’, Redfield. We have the whole night ahead of us, I think I’m gonna need you to try extra hard when we get home,” you replied, causing his jaw to fall open, going slack. 

He quickly whipped his head around and summoned the waiter. He needed to sign this check right this second and get you the fuck out of here.

~

Claire Redfield: Single mom

Content warnings: being alone on Mother’s Day, toxic ex, depression

You spent most of the day moping around your apartment. Your boss had given you the day off for Mother’s Day, because obviously why wouldn’t he, you’re a mom, it’s kind of your day. Your ex didn’t see it that way though, no matter how many times you tried to reason with him. The custody schedule has your daughter with him today, it’s not his fault it falls on Mother’s Day. You’d shed too many tears over the situation already, so you spent the day trying to distract yourself from your misery. 

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from the show you had been focusing on. You weren’t sure who would be showing up here right now. Of course, you could hope it was your ex dropping off your daughter, but you knew better. 

You got up off the couch and made your way to your front door. Another knock sounded before you got there and you yelled, “Hold on! I am not fast, but I am coming!” You swung open the door to be met with your girlfriend Claire, holding a bunch of balloons, a bouquet of flowers, and a large gift bag. Your jaw dropped as she beamed at you with that pretty smile of hers. You’d cried to her all week about not getting to spend the day with your daughter and had insisted you’d be fine spending the day on your own.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” she exclaimed as she pushed past you and into your apartment. “Chinese food will be here in like 20 minutes,” she informed you as she sat the items down on your coffee table. You were frozen in place at your front door, watching her in awe as she set things up for you. She walked back over to you and shut the apartment door.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here sooner, my love. There was no way I could get out of work early when all of the moms were out. Shit never stops, but I’m here now. And me and you are going to celebrate, even if the pipsqueak isn’t here, okay?” she spoke as her thumbs wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“I, I don’t know what to say,” you said dumbfounded as you stared into Claire’s loving eyes. She just giggled at you.

“I’m glad I could leave you speechless,” she winked at you, “I’ll take an ‘I love you’ and your company, now come and open your gift! I’ve been waiting all damn week for you to open this!”

~

Carlos Oliveira: House full of kids

Content warnings: none that I’m aware of, let me know if I missed anything!

“Shhh, you’re going to ruin the surprise for mommy,” Carlos told your toddler daughter. They were sitting in the dark living room, ready to surprise you when you got back from lunch with your other mom friends. Carlos and your five kids had gone all out for you today for Mother’s Day.

The room was filled with balloons, flowers, gift boxes containing your favorite things, and hand drawn decorations and cards from your children. Having five kids under the age of ten was extremely hard most days, but it was so worth it. Plus, with a husband as gorgeous as Carlos Oliveira, all you had to do was look at him and you had the possibility of being pregnant. 

You unlocked the front door and entered your suspiciously dark home. “Hello?” you called out and the reply was almost instantaneous. Your oldest son flipped the light switch and your jaw dropped at the site of your children running up to you through the heavily decorated room. You were never a major sap, but that was until you had kids. Your eyes started to fill with tears as you were pulled into a giant hug surrounded by your kids.

You looked over to where Carlos stood holding one of those Mother’s Day cards that was the size of a small child. Your kids pulled away from the hug, your toddler grabbed one hand and your second youngest grabbing your other. They led you over to the couch and you sat down as all of the kids scrambled around grabbing gifts and bringing them to you.

Carlos sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back and kissing you on the cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day, baby. I hope you’re happy with your gifts,” he beamed at you.

“Happy?! God, how am I going to make this up to you on Father’s Day?? You set the standards so high, ugh,” you said as you turned and looked him in the eyes, admiring him. “I love you so much,” you spoke softly, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you so much more, darling. You have no idea,” Carlos spoke softly. But looking around, you definitely had an idea of how much. And it was so mutual.

~

Ada Wong: Early in pregnancy

Content warnings: pregnant reader, reader throwing up, sick reader 

You were laying on the couch; a cold, wet rag placed firmly against your forehead and a small trash can just an arms reach away. You’d been beyond sick for a solid month now. You’d used up all your sick and vacation days at work and now you were on furlough. The doctor confirmed your pregnancy around 6 weeks ago and you were approaching the 10 week mark, but the sickness has persisted every single day since it first started. You had lost a few pounds since the start of your pregnancy, but the doctor reassured you that that was normal with morning sickness and after the fertility treatments. 

Nothing the doctor or you could say would ever ease Ada’s worries about you. She hated leaving you alone and was riddled with anxiety constantly. She never let you see that though, around you she was the face of confidence and reassurance.

You had been dozing in and out all day after having a rough, sleepless night. You heard the front door open and shut as quiet footsteps make their way over to you. You felt gentle fingers caressing your cheek, causing you to slightly open your eyes and give Ada a small smile.

“Hey baby, are you feeling any better?” she asked softly. You could see the concern in her eyes as she crouched down next to you so that her face was more level with yours.

“Never been better,” you grumbled, causing her to chuckle at you.

“Here, sit up. I got something for you,” she told you as she gripped your arms firmly, slowly pulling you into a sitting position. You whined as your brain felt dizzy from sitting up right. Ada brought your head to her chest and rubbed loving circles into your back as you adjusted. 

After a few minutes, you pulled your head from her chest and looked up at her, “What’d you get for me?” She told you to wait a minute as she left the room to grab whatever it was that she’d gotten for you. 

She returned carrying a bunch of random items; a plush blanket, fuzzy socks, a silk robe, balloons, and a dorky ‘World’s Best Mom’ mug. “Next year, I’ll get you the sweets and flowers and whatever else you could possibly want, but I wanted to get you things you could actually use right now,” she said softly as she sat down next to you, “Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”

“Happy Mother’s Day to you too,” you said smiling at her. She grabbed your feet and pulled them into her lap as she gently massaged the soles and slid your new socks on.

“Oh please, I haven’t done any of the work yet. Once November is here, you’re not going to lift a finger. I’ll take care of you and the baby and I’ll earn my next Mother’s Day,” she told you as you shook your head.

“You’ll do great with a baby, you’ve been taking care of a giant one for forever now,” you laughed softly.

She pulled your head down to her lips and gently kissed your forehead. “And I’ll keep doing it,” she spoke to you as she pulled her head back enough to look into your eyes. You couldn’t do anything besides stare up at her lovingly.

And then your stomach started turning, “Ugh, I’m gonna throw up.” She held your hair back the whole time and spent the rest of the night pampering you.

~masterlist~

[clarisinne]

hi there claris!

you inspire me a lot artistically, and recently i’ve come to the conclusion that my biggest goal with my art journey is to make a comic. but, it seems so daunting! i was wondering if you had any tips or tricks for things you do to make comic-drawing easier, more coherent, etc. i hope that makes sense? i’m just, interested in your process. thank you :D

I'm honored you think of me as an inspiration and you'd reach out to me for advice! Cracks knuckles this will be Long

Alright so first off I want to address the "daunting" aspect: it doesn't need to be! It's only daunting if you feel it has to be good good from the get go, but it doesn't! I actually recommend fucking around for the first few chapters god knows I did if you couldn't tell just to stay relaxed and positive

From a drawing perspective:

do not confine yourself and express yourself freely. If this means your characters change art style in the middle of your series, so be it! Harvey and Cringefail look so different in part 1, they will probably look even more different in part 200 or whatever, who cares!!!

I also want to prepare you for this: making a comic means you will be drawing a LOT. a lot lot. a looot lot lot. I'm personally insane and can do it for up to 14 hours a day but i do not recommend it. This ties to my previous point, drawing a lot = improving faster, so of course your art style will change and that's fine, actually do not focus on art style at all just do what comes natural

Writing-wise:

keep your notes app at hand because you will get random ideas in the middle of the night. Write down what you got, but remember you do not need to be faithful to it, and if you're anything like me you'll change things up a million time until it feels just Right.

Re-read your comic often (not all of it necessarily but at least the last few parts) and you'll get a clearer idea of where it needs to go. I usually know there's some "milestones" ahead and I adjust the pacing according to how I feel it should go, inserting filler scenes that will still be significant for character growth or for establishing some kind of element you might want to address later

For ideas: brainstorm, talk to the wall if you don't have a friend or s/o to torture, talk in your car

Generally speaking, youuu basically have to find what works for you. I openly struggle with OCD and when I give in to it I get NOTHING done as you can imagine. When I let go of control that's when I actually get some juices flowing, I need quite some wiggle room to actually feel relaxed enough to make art, it turns out!! If I feel like I have to stick to one art style, or to one plot line in one way I decided a few weeks ago I just get stuck. I need it messy and chaotic and unplanned

[paraheronstairs]

i love clary and jace’s first kiss scene SO much

the midnight birthday scenery

the greenhouse

the midnight blooming flower

the witchlight

the anticipation

the kiss

the intimacy

[witchlingcirce]

I don’t know how many of you read this, but it’s basically a collection of essays submitted to Cassandra Clare about shadowhunters and she edits them.

I have to say, this is probably one of the worser TSC books I’ve read. I read this like three years ago I think and I had SO many thoughts.

Some of the essays are really good. There’s this one called “The art of war” which in my opinion was the only one I thought that was really worth a read and worth the length. I had problems in this story about they talked about some of the other characters (Isabelle, Alec). But I really enjoyed the comparison between Valentine and Clary. Valentine being a very rule (of his own makings ofc) following man, and Clary being a dreamer. It mentions how Valentine consistently loses to Clary’s creativity (her making runes). And I think that’s such a wonderful thing to point out. I liked how it actually discusses Clary’s relationship with art I thought it was sweet.

Other ones I thought where good was the one about Simon, there’s one called “why the best friend never gets the girl” very 2012 but it’s pretty funny lol. Another one of these essays is about Malec, I would say the main thing wrong about this essay is that you can tell it was written in 2013 lol. Anyways, I thought it was really cute. I had no idea Clare got hate for making malec gay when the books were coming out!

Now let me get onto the NEGATIVES of this essay thing. So many of these essay points are literally just repeating things stated or so clearly evident in the book. You know for an English essay and when you can be bothered for it you pick the most boring topic and the most easiest and basic example from the text?? That’s what half these essays are. I don’t think some of these needed to be re-stated, when it’s SO Cleary present in the book?!

So many of these essays as well went onto certain tangents to the point when you where wondering when it would get back to the shadowhunter topic. Like there was this one which discussed woman not being allowed to get tattoos, which in of itself is an interesting topic but, it didn’t even relate back to TSC. It started off with talking about it and than went on this whole other tangent??

There is also one segment on this essay where it talks about incest… in a positive light?? It was so odd and borderline disgusting. I’ll never forget when whoever wrote that essay said that Izzy calling Jace “damn sexy” in the first book SPEFICALLY to push Clary’s button was worse than Clary and Jace kissing when they thought they where siblings… yeah let w settle in. There was also a bit where they said the incest between clary and Jace almost didn’t count because they didn’t grow up together, WHAT? I don’t know HOW this was approved… AT ALL.

Anyways, if u guys saw my Og goodreads review or this book you’d literally think I’d gone mad with rage. Worse book that resolves anything with TSC I gave it 2 stars

[khaleesiofalicante]

MEMORANDUM FROM: J. C. HERONDALE, NEW YORK INSTITUTE TO: ALL INSTITUTE HEADS IN RE: HAIR

Greetings, fellow Shadowhunters, Downworlders, and in-the-know mundanes. Jace Lightwood Herondale here, your favorite Shadowhunter and three-time winner of the Golden Stele for Most Attractive and Sinewy Institute Head[1]. Recently it has been brought to my attention that I have been the victim of a terrible slander. I present this report today, to be sent in fire-message format to all Institute Heads worldwide: to correct the record, yes, but more importantly to provide a more thorough survey of the relevant information regarding the New York Institute and its main officers. I. SITUATION REPORT As you know, a schism has caused our homeland of Idris to be occupied by an insurgent, reactionary faction of Nephilim. This has severed the Clave’s ability to enter Idris and to engage in normal governmental operations. As a result, the New York Institute has become a much more central and important location than ever before. Not only are we now the home office of the Consul-in-Exile, the Headmaster of the Shadowhunter Academy-Also-in-Exile as well as the Warlock and Werewolf representatives to the Council, we are also the closest Institute to said Academy and therefore charged with its defense. As such, the interests of the New York Institute can be said to truly be commensurate with the interests of the Clave at large. II. THE SLANDER A most dire accusation has been made against me, and in doing so, it has impacted the morale of my Institute, which, as per §1, is of utmost importance at this precarious time in Shadowhunter history. Specifically, I have been accused of DYEING MY HAIR.

III. THE RESPONSE The accusation is, unfortunately, not more specific than this. It is unclear if the accuser means to suggest that I merely add artificial highlights to my hair, or that I use dye to alter its natural hue -- or much more dire allegations. That I, perhaps, actually use bleach to lighten my hair to the blond color for which it is famous across six continents, or even that I might have need to mask the appearance of early-onset gray hairs. Let me be clear: none of these have any basis in fact. My hair is and has only ever been its own natural shade and tone, inherited genuinely from my parents and untouched by any treatment or modification by magic or chemical. Its thick texture, gentle waves, and brilliant luster are merely the result of good fortune and a regular regimen of washing and conditioning. To suggest otherwise is to undermine the cause of the liberation of Idris and to weaken the resolve of our allies. A few, more given to conflict resolution than I, have tried to find a position of compromise, suggesting that it is possible that my hair has been positively affected by the experiments my father performed on me as an infant involving angel blood. It is true that I cannot fully rule out the possibility. But I strongly doubt it, and I believe you should as well, for one can find (through rigorous searching) hair that is nearly as superb as mine even among the mundane population, who obviously have not benefited from any such magics.

IV. RELEVANCE TO THE NEW YORK INSTITUTE AT LARGE While the slander has been directed solely at me, the other main representatives of the New York Institute are also aggrieved, and feel strongly that an attack on the hair of one of us is an attack on the hair of all of us. To that end, and at their request[2], I want to provide reassurances regarding the current status of the hair of all of us here. I hope that it will offer comfort and optimism in this dark time. I have provided a helpful letter grade for each of those mentioned here, using the standard measure where “S” is the highest grade, followed by A, B, C, D, F. My own hair will be used as the S-tier standard. CLARY FAIRCHILD If anyone on this list qualifies for the highest tier, it is of course Clary Fairchild, the co-head of the Institute and my constant beloved. Her hair is of the finest red color, shining gold in the light and flowing around her face in waves that only serve to highlight the natural blush of her cheeks and the freckles which so fetchingly decorate her face. To look upon Clary is to be reminded of the beauty given to us by the Angel; to run one’s hands through her hair is to weep with the beauty of this world. RANK: S SIMON LOVELACE Unfortunately, Clary’s parabatai’s hair has suffered greatly, perhaps the most of any of us, with the rupturing of the Clave. Out of sorrow and discontent he has, unwisely, been dedicating a significant portion of his time to his rock band, in which he plays the electric bass guitar alongside several mundanes (of no other consequence). Under the wretched influence of these mundanes, he has made an attempt at lightening his own hair to create an effect he described to me as “kinda punk and a little emo, but also not.” I cannot tell you what this is intended to mean: only that applying bleaching agents to his previously completely acceptable brown hair has turned it an unpleasant color which Clary has labeled “chromium green.” For the moment, he looks as though he has a dead snake on his head. Both Clary and Isabelle have volunteered to shave the green out of his hair entirely, but he has so far avoided their clippers and announced he will wait for it to grow out naturally. All of us here are looking forward to his full recovery in time; rest assured that, like the loss of Idris, Simon’s appalling appearance is only temporary. RANK: D (under normal circumstances: B). ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD As in all things, Isabelle Lightwood’s hair is immaculate and worthy of the great admiration it inspires. The contrast between her and Simon Lovelace is always quite striking, but never more so than now, as her appearance lights up each room she enters while his prompts questions about possible chemical spills and comparisons to a fictional mundane character known as “The Joker.” (Again, his situation is temporary, and we trust he will be restored to full strength soon.) When braided and set for battle, Isabelle’s hair inspires her allies and strikes fear into demons. RANK: S ALEC LIGHTWOOD Here we have a curious situation, it is true that Alec Lightwood’s hair is the parabatai to my own. As such, it is attractive, steadfast, brave, and rousing. Alas, while the hair itself is fine material, he simply WILL NOT TAKE CARE OF IT THE WAY I TELL HIM TO. No matter how many excellent products are gifted to him, no matter how many times he is lured into a fine salon with a promise that it is actually an arrow shop, the Consul continues to look as if he cuts his hair in the dark with nail scissors. And yet - allowances must be made. Our Consul struggles beneath a heavy burden of responsibility, by which I mean he has two children who constantly put gum in his hair. Considering all he has to face, I cannot but feel that the hair of Alec Lightwood is hair that one would not hesitate to follow into battle, which is what truly matters.  RANK: A MAGNUS BANE At this moment in time, Magnus Bane, the Consul’s husband and warlock representative to the Council, has hair that cannot be achieved through mundane or even Shadowhunter means. Though largely black, it is shot through with flecks of gold, and at the tips it faded smoothly to an electric blue that closely resembles the color of his own magic. As always, Magnus takes a look that might not pass muster on a lesser man and makes it not only his own, but a target of envy from all around him. It is widely believed (though denied) that such an effect is what Simon Lovelace was hoping to attain in his recent unlucky tonsorial experiments. That the effect of his hair can only be created so perfectly with the use of magic does not diminish what Magnus manages to achieve here. RANK: A CHURCH THE CAT While the oddly long-lived cat known as Church is currently residing in the UK under the care of others, he was a longtime resident of this Institute and is still considered by most of us here as a kind of unofficial mascot. Recent photos have confirmed that, as befits a cat of the New York Institute, Church continues to have a fine, rich coat of  the slate-blue color normally associated with his Persian breeding. Despite his usual bad temper, he is a fastidious groomer and keeps himself free of mats and unsightly tufts of shedding fur. His color is set off by his luminous gold eyes, which provide an excellent contrast. His coat presents an excellent picture when seen as a whole, but special consideration should be made to its greatest details, namely the slightly lighter color between his toes, and the tufts that rise from his owl-like ears. RANK: S V. CONCLUSION I hope that the thoroughness of the information contained here has brought reassurance and inspiration to all those who receive it. To sum up, my own hair has never been better, and remains entirely natural in its source. The state of the hair of the New York Institute is strong, and with the exception of a single mishap, which we are recovering from, we foresee only positive developments in the domain of our hair in the months and years to come. Yours in the Name of the Angel, Jace Herondale [1]This award was created by Clary Fairchild and is presented once a year on my birthday by a jury consisting of only the most discerning and aesthetically informed Nephilim available: specifically, Clary Fairchild. [2]Or at least, with only their mildest objection. Note: From Cassandra Clare’s newsletter on 01/04/2023. 

[inkykeiji]

hi clari!! do you happen to be interested in ballet at all? i’ve been doing ballet for years now and i’ve been curious if of your iterations of touya would let reader be a dancer, for example a dance major in college? it’s such a “cute and girly” thing that i think they might like it but at the same time i could see them getting jealous of any potential duets with other men or how “revealing” the uniforms are

but either way i’d love to know what majors you originally have each of them doing since most, if not all, of your stories have the reader doing college?

hope you’re doing well!! <33

hi anon!! <3 oooh i actually love ballet so much and i will forever regret talking my mom out of enrolling me in it when i was 8!!! EEE ehehe it’s funny u ask actually because once upon a time i was writing a ballet au with dabi! i dunno if i’ll ever finish it tho hahaha >.< so since all of my readers are already enrolled in university by the time they meet touya/dabi, there’s no way he’d be able to control what their major is; they already decided on it on their own and most are at least a year or two into their studies when they first meet him, so he isn’t able to decide what it is they’re studying (which means yes, they’d be forced to ‘allow’ her to continue her dance major! no matter how much they don’t like it! they won’t be changing programs simply because their overbearing, overprotective, over-possessive boyfriend doesn’t like it).

that being said, you’re 100% right! my touyas/dabis would be totally torn between loving it because it’s so beautiful and awe-inspiring (they’re totally enraptured—enchanted—when they watch her perform) and being extremely jealous that literally anyone else gets to see their girl in such beautiful costumes dancing such beautiful numbers and that anyone gets to fucking touch their girl at all. out of my three main iterations, touya-nii would be the worst with his possessiveness and would definitely demand she never dance a pas de deux with anyone (despite the fact that she wants to, that it’s good for her career + exposure, or that her grade depends on it. tnii is way too selfish to give a fuck about any of that, and he’d much rather she stay in the corps forever—in his mind, he’s like why would she ever need to be prima anyway? when she has me? when i can provide for her? etc.)

good question! so their majors are intentionally left vague so you, the real reader, can project whatever you’d like onto them! in my mind, they study art of some form (probably literature and/or film since that’s what i studied HAHAHA but i also love the idea of studying fine arts or dance like u said!!!), with the exception of bmb reader, who in my mind studies psychology. but again, feel free to imagine them studying whatever you’d like to! i hope you’re doing fabulous, sweetpea! <3 thank u for ur question!!!

[ohtobeleah]

Father, Son & The Holy Shit // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Father, Son & Artificial Constructs] Bradley hears from his ex, your mother. You’re heading to North Island for the summer. Jake is immediately hooked on the young Bradshaw girl who’s dating his son.

Warning: Jake Seresin x F!Bradshaw Reader. Suggestive themes. Unspecified Age gap. Gaslighting/manipulation. Moral outrage. 18+

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw was a lot of things. He was a great friend, the life of the party. He was a dedicated aviator, decorated in fact. He was a pretty decent piano player and an amateur cook—he could make any dish involving instant ramen look restaurant quality. Soft boiled egg, green onions, little drizzle of sweet soy and all. 

But a good father was probably something that from time to time had been rubbed off that list—then written back over with pencil. Then rubbed off again, written again, so forth and so on. 

“She wants to spend the summer getting to know her father Bradley.” Claire sighed out in frustration on the other end of the line as Bradley held his phone up to his ear as he showered. He let the stream of scalding hot water cascade down his body—the motion of his other hand that had been wrapped around his length slowed to a begrudged halt as the conversation shifted from hellos and how are yours? To you. “She’s in college now—hell I don’t even think you’ve seen her since she was a freshman in high school.” 

Claire Littleton had been the girl Bradley Bradshaw lost his virginity to back when they were just a mere seventeen years old. It was both their first time. They didn’t know what they were doing and they sure as hell thought they were oh so in love. Up until the pregnancy test showed up with the brightest pink positive sign the pair of them had ever seen and neither of them knew what the fuck they were doing. They were both still kids themselves. How could they possibly have a child?

“I’ve just been re-stationed Clarie. I don't think it’s a good idea, I’ve barely unpacked.” Claire knew Bradley was in the shower, she could hear the water running, she could hear the echo in his voice, she could picture the steam radiating from his body as she closed her eyes and willed away the imagery of her daughter's father standing in the shower—naked and tan and toned and— “Hello? Clarie?” 

“Sorry, yeah I’m here.” Clarie brought her mind back to reality as she pushed herself up off the desk she was leaning on, sitting behind the computer at the reception desk at the doctor's office she worked at. “Her boyfriend’s apparently spending the summer in North Island interning for some Commander, I think it’s his dad from what I can recall her mentioning.” Clarie explained briefly as she looked around at the empty waiting room—there was still ten minutes till opening. 

Bradley chuckled softly to himself as he looked up to the ceiling, son of a bitch. She knew he was in North Island. Claire always kept tabs on where her favourite flightless bird was in the world. It made Bradley feel like at least there was one person roaming the earth that gave a damn. Well—besides Maverick that was. 

“You already knew I’d been reposted, didn’t you?” Clarie didn’t answer straight away but Bradley knew she was smiling on the other end of the line—he could see her clear as day in his mind as he closed his eyes, biting her bottom lip trying to hide back a shit eating grin. “Who’s Y/n dating Clarie?” 

“He’s nice, his mothers young, think we can relate on that note.” Clarie knew the last name would drive a hot iron into Bradley’s side. They had never been on the best of terms. “And I don’t want you taking it out on the kid because of who his father is alright?” Bradley had told Clarie a million times about a guy of the name Jake Seresin, she knew of her ex’s distaste for the man even before he did what no one ever expected of him and saved Bradley’s life a few years back. 

Rooster felt like he had no choice but to play nice nowadays—Hangman had saved his life and for that he was grateful. But it still didn’t mean the guy didn’t have an ego the size of Mt Everest. 

Commander Jake Seresin had gotten the band back together. He was Mirimars newest Commander and he knew the exact people he wanted on sight. 

Bradley, unfortunately for himself, was one of them. 

“Oh god don’t tell me she’s dating Kian Seresin—“ Bradley could have smashed his head against the tiles of his shower. Anyone but that kid. Anyone but a Seresin. Jake was never gonna let Bradley live it down. Couldn’t it have been a Floyd or a Trance or even a fucking Garcia! “No—no fucking way.” 

“They’ve been dating for over a year now Roos—“ Clarie was trying to soften the blow the best she could but it was to no avail. She heard the water shut off and sighed. “You’re overreacting, you’re daughter wants to spend time with you over the summer break and you’re—“

“No, she wants to spend time with her boyfriend in North Island and is gonna use me as an excuse to do so.” 

“So? At least she wants to see you, Rooster, there’s plenty of dads out there who don’t see their daughters anymore because they grew up and decided the bare minimum wasn’t enough.” Now Claire did have a point, Bradley knew he hadn’t been the most present dad in your life. 

But he cared. 

“You had over a year to tell me she's dating a Seresin and couldn’t send me a text? An email perhaps, hell I probably would’ve been happy with a messenger pigeon!” Bradley huffed as he stepped out of the shower, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he wrapped a clean towel around his waist. The hard on he’d tried to give some attention to was long gone now. It wasn’t the first time Clarie Littleton had given Bradley blue balls and it probably wasn’t going to be the last. “For the love of god Clarie I don’t even like working with the guy, now you wanna tell me my daughters dating his son?” 

Everyone knew Jake had a kid, a son. Kian. Much like Bradley he had him young. The two shared that and their love for the navy in common. They had both been young, dumb and oh so in love. The only difference between the pair was that unlike Bradley and Clarie who both decided amicably that they knew they could both have a successful future apart than together, Jake had married the supposed love of his life the second it was legal. 

Bradley and Clarie both did their best to raise you, but there came a point where Bradley had to give up his share of the custody agreement so he could focus on his career. 

“Bradley, your daughter will be in town at the end of the week, she either stays with you or she’ll stay with Kian and his dad.” Claire groaned on the other end of the line as she placed her forehead on the countertop. “And she wants to stay with you! So stop worrying about someone else’s son and use what time you’ve been given here to get to know your daughter in her adult life.” 

Jake Seresin had married his highschool sweetheart Nacy only three weeks after they both turned eighteen, which was six months after Kian was born. For Jake that was now three failed marriages ago and a handful of divorce settlements later. Bradley had never been more thankful to have someone like Clarie in his life—a support system he could trust no matter what. 

And someone to call late at night, you know—for when he was feeling overworked and under fucked. 

“Yeah—fine fine.” Bradley conceded as he looked at himself in the mirror, he did his best to be a good dad. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, it was just he thought you were a hell of a lot better off without him. “And for the record I was at her highschool graduation, and I saw her before I came out to North Island two years ago, I’ve got that picture of the three of us hanging in the hall.” 

It was Claire’s turn to chuckle, the memory had slipped her mind. Bradley Bradshaw was a good dad, he just wasn’t around that much. He paid his fair share and then some over the years, helped Clarie settle into her new life in San Francisco just after you were three and he allowed her to live a life separate from him. They shared their love for you though, and spent their entire lives pinning for one another. Bradley had always been there for anything and everything you and your mother needed. 

But not a lot of people knew Bradley had a daughter, it was just something that Bradley wanted to keep all to himself if he could. Some people knew. Pete, Natasha, Jake. Guess he was in on this and just hadn’t bothered to mention he knew for a whole ass year that his son was dating a Bradshaw. But it wasn’t like Jake and Bradley texted. 

“Oh my apologies, step aside for father of the year.” There was always a part of Clarie Littleton that wondered what life would have been life if she had wanted to be the Navy wife. What a life with Bradley could have been like. 

“Eat me Claire—“ Bradley wondered too. It was one of the main reasons he never really settled down with anyone else. He tried, lord knows he did. But he felt a guilt inside his soul that if he was gonna settle down with anyone it was gonna be with Clarie. It would be a disservice to you and your mother if he found love anywhere else. He had all the love he needed. 

It was just unconventional. 

“I’m sure you’d love that Bradshaw.” Clarie replied as she sat up in her chair. “Listen I gotta go, but you should call her, plan ahead and let her know you want her there—she’s not a kid anymore, but she’ll always be your baby girl.” Claire never hesitated to keep Bradley in-line and he always listened—always. Phoenix was convinced if Clarie called Rooster tomorrow and said she loved him he’d marry her on the spot. And he would. “Love you Bradshaw, take care of yourself.” 

“Yeah love you too—“ Bradley heard the dial tone ring in his ear before he had a chance to finish his sentence. So he left it at that and placed his phone down on the vanity. “More than you think you know Littleton.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~**

“All I’m saying is good and bad, right and wrong are just artificial constructs designed by society to kinda keep everyone in check.” Kian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as turned down the street you’d told him to turn. Your dad had given you his new address at the beginning of the week after he called. You knew your mum put him up to it, but you knew he had some of his own intention behind it. “And then you add religious beliefs into the mix and suddenly it’s on for young and old.” 

“All religion is just a foolish answer to a foolish question—“ You repeated before your boyfriend could, you’d heard him say it a million times. “I think it’s this one, pull up baby.” Kian was a man of science, not a man of faith by any means. He was a man of the mind, not of the body and soul. 

You knew it was your father’s home simply because of the Blue Bronco sitting in the drive. He loved that thing almost as much as your mum loved her rock climbing. You had vivid memories of beach days and sandy floor mats whenever you saw the damn thing. The butterflies in your stomach only fluttered with anticipation as Kian turned into the drive and parked behind the tried and true mode of transportation Bradley Bradshaw swore by. 

“Is that dear old pops sitting on the porch?” Kian chuckled as he parked the car, you were out of the car in seconds as Bradley stood from where he’d been perched waiting for your imminent arrival. 

“Hi stranger!” You beamed as you made your way over. Bradley chuckled as he placed a hand over his heart and faked weak in the knees. “Still got that stupendous mustache I see?” Bradley faked a shot to the heart.m as he laughed. 

“You mother didn’t mention you got so big—“ He took you in for a warm embrace as he spun you around and picked you up off your feet. “Far out kid what’s it been? Two? Three years?” 

“Uh yeah something like that, right before you reposted out here for that detachment.” You replied as your dad placed you back down. Kian cleared his throat softly as he rounded the car, not wanting to interrupt the moment. You smiled at your boyfriend then back at your dad. “Dad, this is Kian Seresin, my boyfriend.” 

“I remember—“ Bradley smiled as he shook Kians hand. “Yeah you were probably like four the last time I saw you man, on your mum's hip at one of our first Naval Galas.”

“It’s good to finally meet you sir.” Kian shook your fathers hand with a smile that couldn’t be faked or forced, he was delighted in every aspect to meet the man the myth that was your father Bradley Bradshaw—Although he’d met him in his less than formative years. “Claire and Y/n have mentioned nothing but the best.” 

“That’s a damn lie son, don’t I know it.” Bradley chuckled as he pulled his hand back and tapped Kian a few times on the shoulder. “Come on, I promised your dad we’d meet up at the Hard Deck for dinner, so get your stuff settled and we’ll head over.” It was self flagellation really, Rooster didn’t have any intention of playing happy family with Jake, but you looked happy and Bradley didn’t want anything to come between you and the happiness you deserved.

“Uh what’s the Hard Deck?” You asked as you walked with Kian back around to the trunk, watching as he and your dad grabbed your bags and walked back up to the house. The home that Kian would spend the first night with you in. Your dads place, before you'd stay the night at his dads. 

“It’s a bar.” Kian and your dad both said in unison. Turns out Kian and his father had a closer relationship than you did with yours. You and Bradley spoke often enough—Kain and Jake spoke almost every other day. 

“Oh, well alright then, I’m pretty pumped to meet your dad.” You trailed behind Kian. He stopped in his tracks to place a gentle kiss to your cheek. “We can play the who’s dads more of a deadbeat than the other.” Bradley looked at you as if you’d stabbed him in the heart, was he a good dad? Probably not but he sure wasn’t a deadbeat. 

“Uh, hands down mine.” Kian chuckled. Bradley raised an all knowing eyebrow. He sure wasn’t wrong. “But you’re free to make your own judge of character.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake Seresin was a lot of things. He’d been told from a few different sources that he was a bit of a prick, a scumbag—an overachiever who’d step over anyone and do anything in his power to be the best. He was a loyalist to the game that was the US Naval hierarchy and all he ever wanted was to be at the top of the pyramid. 

“This really pains you, doesn’t it Bradshaw?” But there was something Jake Seresin wasn't all that good at. He was a damn good aviator and he on occasion could understand the concept of what the definition of a team was. But Jake wasn’t a good father and worse off, he wasn’t a good husband. 

“More than you could possibly imagine Seresin—“ Bradley bit his tongue as he shook Jake's hand in a friendly gesture of gratitude. Despite their differences the two were amicable on a good day. The Hard Deck hadn’t changed in the two years that had passed since Bradley and Jake flew together on the Uranium mission that saw Jake's career skyrocket into the stratosphere. Hell Bradley was still a lieutenant to Jake’s Commander ranking. 

“Ah, but isn't young love a virtue.” Jake chuckled as he let go of Roosters hand. The pair had only been back in North Island for roughly a week and a bit before their respective spawn were chewing at their heels. 

“Not when a Seresins involved, that’s for sure.” Bradley mumbled under his breath, but sure enough Jake heard the jab. With three failed marriages, a slu of settlements and a child he treated more like a friend than a son, Jake Seresin knew nothing of love. He wasn’t capable of it. He’d burnt his first marriage down just for the fun of it and he’d built two more back up just to watch it all fall apart again. All three times, Jake had been at fault. 

But he’d never claimed to be a good man—so the thought of the broken hearts club that cried themselves to sleep that he had coincidentally formed, didn’t really keep him up at night. 

“Kian, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” Jake smiled as he finally turned his attention to you as you stood with your arm wrapped around Kains. “I’ve heard far too much about this beautiful young woman for her to still be a stranger.” The pair of you had been waiting for Jake and Bradley to greet each other. 

“Dad this is Y/n Bradshaw, Y/n this is my dad, Commander Jake Seresin.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled politely as you reached out to shake your boyfriend's dads hand. His eyes roamed your body like you had something he desired and for a moment you felt like you’d been put on display at some art exhibition. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“All good things I hope?” Jake sent you that signature smirk Kian had. It was a Seresin staple apparently. “How’s mother hen doing these days? Clarie? Isn’t it Rooster?” 

Jake could feel Rooster burning a hole into the side of his shit eating smile at the mere mention of your mother. Bradley had only told Jake about you and about Clarie, your mother, after the egotistical jerk saved his life. It was a can of worms he wished he never cracked open. 

“She’s good! Yeah her art is really starting to take off now!” You beamed as you looked at your dad who just had this light in his eye as you spoke about your mother. “She’s doing really well for herself, I keep telling her that she needs to quit that stupid doctors receptionist gig she’s got and just focus on her painting but she won’t. Doesn’t believe she could make it on just her talent alone.” You explained to the three men who stood around you. 

“I’m gonna grab us all a round of drinks—“ Kian mentioned in the lull of conversation. “Rooster? You want a beer?” 

“I’ll get a Canadian Club thanks kid.” Kain nodded, committing the request to memory. Your dad drank Canadian club. Perfect. Noted. 

“Dad?” 

“Just a budweiser buddy.” Jake said as he drank in the sight of you like he’d been walking in the desert for days without water. “Y/n? Drink of choice?” 

“Gin Sour—“ Both Bradley and Kian mentioned at the same time. For an absentee father Bradley Bradshaw still knew his only daughter pretty well. “Come on, tables this way.” Bradley huffed a little under his breath as you turned to follow him. 

If you hadn’t been so nervous you probably wouldn’t have noticed, but there was nothing unnoticeable about the way Commander Seresin moved his hand up your back to guide you over to the table. Your heart nearly jumped from your chest at the feeling of his touch. 

His hand sat perfectly against the small of your back like he’d done it a hundred times and would continue to do it a thousand more. He made it seem so innocent at first so you didn’t react as you followed your dad. You let him guide you—innocently enough, towards the booth tucked away in the corner of the Hard Deck. 

“How about you sit across from dear old dad sweetheart?” Jake suggested as he watched Rooster slide into the booth seat closest to the wall. “That way I can sit across from Kian and can keep an eye on Rooster here.” 

“You don’t wanna sit next to me Hangman?” Bradley chuckled as he shook his head. “I’m slightly offended.”

“Can’t help it if your cologne makes me uncomfortable.” Jake played his decisions off like they were barely even thoughts. But unbeknownst to all they were calculated and cunning. Jake still had his hand pressed to the small of your back as you stood near the booth. “Well, slide on in, we don’t have all night now do we kid.” 

Jake waited for the right moment, he waited until you were sliding into the booth to trail his hand across the expanse of your lower back down your ass. You kept a straight face as you felt the presence of his hand over the pocket of your jeans, collecting something in the process rather slyly. 

You cleared your throat as you fixed yourself up and situated yourself across from your dad. He’d seen nothing, and soon enough Kian was returning with the drinks he’d ordered. 

“Some lady at the bar said she’d give me twenty dollars if I told you Rooster was the better pilot.” 

“I’ll give you fifty just to shut up.” Jake snapped back without a second of hesitation in his voice. Every person at the table laughed, including yourself. It felt normal. It felt right to finally be meeting your boyfriend’s father—you’d been together for just over a year now and the whole aspect of your distant dads just seemed so untangable. But sitting across from your dad and next to Kians made your heart swell. The normality of it all brought a warm comfort to your soul. 

Except you were pretty sure he just copped a feel. 

“So what’re you studying Kian?” Bradley asked as he chowed down on his steak and veg. Kian finished his mouthful before answering as he looked over at you. There was something in the way his son looked at you that caught Jake's curiosity.

There was a look of lesser than he didn’t quite like behind his son's eyes. It would’ve gone unnoticed if you didn’t look down at your food to avoid the glare. You twirled your fork around in the pasta you were eating, filling in time as Kian fronted the career path he’d chosen. 

The one he liked to practice on you. 

“I’m studying Psychology—“ Before Kian could ramble on about what paths he wanted to travel down and what specialty he wanted to work towards Jake cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the napkin before him. He’d heard his son talk about college enough. 

“What about you sweetie?” He turned all his attention to you as you sat meekly in the corner, trapped between the wall and your boyfriend's dad. “What’s my hopefully daughter in law planning to be in the near distant future.” 

There was something in that tone Jake used when he coined you sweetie: something sinister, something secretive and dangerous. 

“Oh when you say it out loud it makes me wanna cry.” Rooster groaned, he still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact he was sitting with Jake and his son at a family dinner. All you did was laugh a little at your dad, he was doing his best to make it through the night. You appreciated the effort. You appreciated him. 

“I’m studying exercise physiology.” Through the corner of Jake's eyes he saw Kian roll his slightly at your statement. What was so wrong with that? “I uh—eventually wanna get to a point where I can do a masters in musculoskeletal physiotherapy—help people with neurological pathways that might be blocked, spinal injuries and stuff.” Your mother told you to shoot for the moon and far beyond, Bradley had been the one who paid for your college tuition. Together they were pretty good at supporting you emotionally and financially. 

Kian however, well—he didn’t really see physiotherapy as a real solution to a major problem that was the overburdened and understaffed health care system. He didn’t care all that much for allied health. 

“Because running track will pay the bills babe—“ Kian chuckled softly to himself as he took another bite of his steak. Bradley frowned, he didn’t like that one bit. Neither did Jake for a matter of fact. 

His hand slowly but surely crept up your thigh under the table. He took a sip of his beer and raised a steady brow as Bradley cleared his throat—unaware of that fact Jake's hand was resting utop your knee, creeping closer and closer to your core. You’d frozen in your place as you kept your cool—surely he wasn’t. You were misinterpreting things. 

The slight touch of your ass before and now this? 

“Well I don’t know about you guys but I need another drink.” You smiled as you remembered how to breathe again as Jake removed his hand from your jean clad thigh. “Dad, you want another? Kian?” Jake was quick to stand to let you out, there was a look he didn’t quite like written in the lines on your face. “Did you want another Budweiser Mr Seresin?” 

“Jake, or Hangman, please—“ There was a certain amount of list that dropped from Jakes tongue at the idea of hearing you call him Mr. Seresin over and over again as the idea of having his way with you ran rampant in his kind. “And sure thing sweetheart.” He smiled as you pressed your lips together and nodded softly.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll probably step outside to call mum too.” Once you were gone, Jake turned to his son and smacked him right upside the head. Kian gasped as he rubbed at the back of his head. All Bradley did was watch the interaction unfold—it wasn’t often he got to see Jake be a parent and sometimes it was pretty comical to watch. 

“Ow! What the hell was that for!?” 

“Don’t diminish your girlfriend like that.” Jake argued. “For a Bradshaw she doesn’t seem half bad and you just shit all over her college education like a fuckwit.” Rooster was speechless, he never expected Jake to defend you like that, ever. He kinda felt a little chuffed at that. 

“Didn’t you cheat on two of your three wives?” Kian fired back as Bradley choked on his final sip of Canadian Club. “That’s pretty diminishing if you ask me.” 

He wasn’t wrong. And boy did Jake hate that his son was far too much like him. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

As you stood on the front veranda of the Hard Deck, you took in the sight of a few Naval Aviators that had just arrived. You could hear laughter and chatter dripping out from inside the bar but you were pretty content in your own peace for a moment. 

“So—“ Jake didn’t mean to spook you, but as he watched with lustful eyes as you jumped and let out a small audible gasp, he held his hands up beside his head. Holding in his right the vape he’d pulled from your jean pocket before. “Does Kian know you smoke?” He tossed it your way, you caught it in both your palms before tapping it in the railing. 

“Yeah, he knows it's only when my anxiety gets bad.” You tried to explain. “When I feel under duress.” You shrugged your shoulders and pressed your lips together into a fine line. “I told him I was gonna quit after summer break.” 

“Those things are full of carcinogens.” You agreed with a silent nod, took a hit, breathed in the flavored vapor before exhaling slowly only to take a drink of your third cocktail of the night. “I’m sorry for what my son said about your degree.” Jake admitted as he stood beside you with his hands in his pockets. “It was a little outta line.” 

“The really ironic thing is he’s the one who’s studying psychology and can’t see how peaceful life becomes when you decide you no longer have the energy to argue.” You explained. “How peaceful life becomes when you’re okay with being misunderstood.” Jake wasn’t too sure what you were getting at but regardless he listened intently. “People only understand from their level of perception Mr Seresin—and quite frankly no argument is worth damaging my mental health over, including but not limited to Kians opinion on physiotherapists.” 

“You two doing okay?” 

“We’re fine—“ You lied through your teeth. This summer was all about trying to salvage the love you shared for one another. “We’re just going through a small rough patch.” 

“Ah, well unfortunately for Kian he doesn’t have the best role models to look up to in terms of relationships.” You chuckled softly as you took another sip of your drink and turned your attention to Jake. “But there's no excuse to treat such a fine young woman like yourself with disrespect.” You didn’t reply straight away, you stood in the silence on the front veranda of the Hard Deck with your boyfriend's dad for a moment until you heard a loud cry of cheers coming from inside. “Kain and Rooster are having a dart comp—“ Jake mentioned briefly as his eyes never left yours, the distance between the two of you was next to nothing and the alcohol in your veins made you brave. 

Braver than usual. 

“Why did you touch my ass inside?” You asked through a slur, you thought you knew what you were doing but then again you never really dank. So there was a pretty good chance it had hit you pretty hard. 

“I don't recall doing that sweetheart—“ Jake scoffed as he reached out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I wouldn’t do that, but I’m sorry if I simply grazed you when I was sliding in behind you.” Jake was hard, his jeans were straining tight against his length as he throbbed inside his boxer briefs. You were really something. 

“How’d you get my vape then?” You asked through a coy smile and battered eyelashes that made Jake want to shove you down to your knees then and there. “If you didn’t touch my ass?” 

“It fell out of your back pocket.” Jake had to grit his teeth together in order to maintain a level head as you walked your fingers up his chest. Slowly. “Careful there sweetheart you might give me the wrong impression.” 

“And what about when you touched my knee?” You continued as you reached back to pick up your drink. Taking another sip, Jake could smell the alcohol on your breath and he knew that you were inebriated. Perfect. 

“Friendly gestures aren’t welcome I see?” Jake tried once again to play his actions down to mere exaggerations on your behalf. He almost had you believing that it was all in your head. “You’ve got a little something on your—?” He paused, tapping at his lower lip to suggest you had something there. “Here I’ll get it.” 

Before you could protest, Commander Seresin, your boyfriend's dad, was running the pad of his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. He paused as he collected the alcoholic foam. 

“You know for a Bradshaw you really are a pretty little thing aren’t you.” He didn’t mean to be so forward, but then again if you were intoxicated he could spin this whatever way he pleased come the morning. This never happened. It was all in your head. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two.” You smiled softly.

“Hopefully my son knows how lucky he is, or else someone might just snatch you up.” Jake removed his thumb from where he’d been tilting your chin up towards his gaze. There was just something about you. 

He needed to be inside you. 

“Someone being?” You pressed, wondering what he could possibly say next. Wondering if this was really all in your head or if you had actually been flirting with your boyfriend's dad and he with you. Jake's answer set your nerve ending alight. You didn’t know how to process what he said before he turned on his heels and left you there standing on the veranda of the Hard Deck alone. 

“Me—“ 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~***~***~***~***~***~***~****~**

[kadieeverfree]

💖BRO-ZONE PERO SON MUJERES:💖

✨SIS-ZONE✨

aqui, grandes artistas nos hemos reunido parar traerles a este iconico grupo musical del Trolls Band together en version genderbend.

Asi es banda, despues de un largo tiempo, es mi honor presentarles este collab finalmente acabado. Todas las que han participado han hecho un trabajo excelente, sus interpretaciones del personaje que eligieron se ven sumamente bellas.

Tambien me disculpo por si llegue a ser medio intensa con sus partes del proyecto ;; Es que de verdad queria que esto fuera una realidad, pero al menos aqui estamos, lo hemos logrado, fue un honor colaborar con ustedes, reitero. Dibujaron re hermosas!

✨️creditos✨️

Flory(Floyd)🌈 yo🌈

Ramona/Brianna(Ramon/Branch)🌈 @/Sergiarts(instagram)🌈

Clary (Clay)🌈@/Cherryb0mb(🌈

Toñita/Brenda(Bruce/Toño) 🌈 @kaibee-art 🌈

Johanna Dory(John Dory)🌈@/ Branchifer Blue 🌈