#and i know that jake hates magical tattoos

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Cursed.

The Librarians S04E11 The Trial of the One.

[shrineheart]

DND Update Time:

A LOT has happened in our game and I'm not 100% sure where we left off but let me just cover some things about Roger and some of the shenanigans he's been in.

Fuck Roger Cummingham, born Roger Cunningham, is a tiefling from an upper-class family. This family practices the tiefling tradition of taking on the name of something important in your life. His father is Honor, his sister is Charity.

And he is Fuck.

And hoo boy does his family hate it. They thought he was joking at first but he's been firm. That is his name.

Most people call him Roger but he'll answer to Fuck too.

He always did poorly in his household because he doesn't quite fit in. As a result, he sought friendships in different areas of town. He fell in love with the idea of being a sex worker and performer. He could do his favorite thing AND get paid for it?

A friendly madam by the name of Kimora took him in when he was old enough and taught him the ropes. Well before that he was learning dance and various performance tricks from the folks at the brothels.

He fits in immediately and does quite well.

The usual exchange on introductions is something along these lines.

"Fuck Roger Cummingham, at your service."

"Who's Roger?"

"Me. I'm Roger. It's my name and instructions."

During his time working at the brothel he caught the eye of many customers. One in particular though... one became something more to Roger. A boy who went by the name Lauren.

The pair fell in love. The young man was from a noble family and knew his parents wouldn't approve. So the two made plans to run away together once he'd finished schooling.

And then it came out that Lauren wasn't the only member of the family Roger had been involved with. Due to the anonymity of the brothel Roger, without knowing, had had Lauren's mother and sister as clients.

Lauren's father was furious and sent men after him. Kimora arranged passage for him out of the city.

But Roger wanted to see Lauren to explain himself.

And it didn't go well. Lauren had fully turned on him. Calling him a whore and saying he'd never loved him.

When Roger pleaded with him one last time to listen to him, Lauren called for the guards. And Roger ran.

On board the ship out of the city Roger met a chef/wizard named Paul. The young man made excellent food and seemed rather... dense about things like flirting, innuendo, and dirty jokes. Curious, Roger kept hanging around him.

And eventually fell for him.

Paul is asexual but he fell for Roger too. The pair moved in together. Paul doesn't mind Roger's work and Roger spoils Paul any time he can.

NOW, for our Game. Roger has:

Traded sex to a gator merchant for a magical tattoo.

Now has three magical tattoos which can move around his body. One is a tentacle that gives him the ability to use Eldritch Maul once a day. Another is a tattoo that gives him the ability to use Disguise once a day. And the last is just a little tattoo that he can move around his body and use to spell things out or make images etc. We've joked that it's the emoji tattoo.

Somehow been the least horny of the group while making the most sex jokes.

Gotten a tiny fire elemental sort of companion who he named Jake... because all I could think of at the time was Jake from State Farm due to my sister and I cracking jokes.

He also got a bow that can be used to shoot spells from a distance using said elemental.

Surrendered himself to a villain to save two random slaves. Persuaded her to take him on as a pet. Survived three rounds in the bedroom with her and fled the scene. They ended up killing her not long after. He's got some feelings about that.

Been downed twice but survived both times.

Has, with the rest of the party, adopted a small orphan that they all love.

Managed to NOT be the person who taught the child curse words first. That was the cleric... Who specifically warned the group not to teach the kid curse words.

Has acquired a magic mirror that shows you how others see you.

Dealt with a bounty hunter who was sent by his sister to track him down.

Is trying to score a threesome with the Paladin and the spirit inhabiting the Paladin's sword. Who happens to be the BIGGEST himbo on the planet.

Pole danced his way into a town. Rolled with advantage and got a NAT 20. Ends the performance perched on top of the pole.

Has been abducted in a case of mistaken identity and forced to perform in an opera.

Become the secret keeper and resident emotional support tiefling for the party.

He's a blast to play with a thick southern accent and a pretty easygoing disposition most of the time. He's such a wholesome little dude too which makes the whole thing even funnier.

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw​ ily

[mundungs]

ϟ.  → robert sheehan : genderfluid : he/they/she : dealer of illicit objects and substances : the raven by the alan parsons project ϟ  did you see mundungus fletcher ? you know ,  31 year old halfblood who was formally in ravenclaw. some say dung can be quite furtive but are known to be unreliable. they are aligned with the order .  maybe that’s why they remind me of naming stray cats, flicking a lighter over and over again, falling asleep on the subway. ϟ 

some links for food

bio

stats

pins

playlist

history

ciannán o’donnell is a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with maeve fletcher does not last long. when she tells him she is pregnant, he moves on to a different woman, and maeve has her son alone, with her sister on her side. and thus, mundungus is born (and giving an arguably atrocious name).

he grows up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in limerick, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about — his father is a criminal, a prominent member of the irish mob. 

he meets his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for mundungus; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life. his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because it was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it. 

but ciannan, a flighty man, pushes and pulls. and so mundungus was fed disappointment by his father, liking love off a shiny knife rather than a spoon ( silver or plastic, what the fuck does it matter ). details omitted, long story made short: his dad sucks and his mother tries, but mundungus is pulled towards that what smells of danger.

DRUGS MENT. at hogwarts, dung is sorted into ravenclaw. not at all the booksmart type, he falls more into the chaotic-creativity, random-bursts-of-wanting-to-learn-everything-about-something type of ravenclaw. there’s two worlds, then: the muggle world, where he slowly dips his water further in criminal waters, and the wizarding one, where he’s chaotic and messy but a student. when he grows older, these overlap: dung starts selling some of his dad’s weed at hogwarts, and soon gains a reputation of being able to get people less-than-legal shit. 

not getting high off your own supply is not a sentiment he agrees with. not then, not later, not now. dung is fun, always in for a party and willing to supply the goods to throw it. if some rich purebloods lose a few galleons at said party, well, it sure isn’t him! END OF TW

he graduates with two newts, in herbology and potions, failing his dada and charms exams. he’s not an academic.

falling into the family business after graduation is easy. mundungus is attracted by the criminal underworld, both that of muggle ireland and that of the wizarding world. knockturn alley was a place frequented in teenage years, but now becomes more his place. he makes connections, exchanges strange potion recipes for other things. makes an odd wager on a bunch of stolen brass scales and turns a profit. 

a career is not something that interests him; he is more interested in bending rules and making quick money. thievery, selling illegal shit, heists, fraud, fuck-all. mundungus is not limited by one descriptor, one kind of criminality. he just does what he wants and hopes to make a good penny.

but then he almost gets sent to azkaban over some, in his frank opinion, bullshit. it’s dumbledore who talks the wizengamot out of it, saddling dung up with some community service and persuading him towards the order. he’s twenty three. the war is still fresh. he has no interest in it, but he owes the old man. fine.

mundungus does vehemently oppose blood purity and any kind of discriminatory ideals, an anarchist in his very bones, but he is also cowardly. to side with self-proclaimed rebels is not in his blood and yet it’s where he ends up, bringing shady ties to the underworld to the table and a sheer ability to sneak around and fuck the law. and maybe, amidst the ranks of the order, dung finds something he’s not very familiar with: a large family. and dung? well, he’s the stoner, gay, super-fucking-chaotic cousin.

personality

if jesper fahey and kaz brekker had a child, it would be dung. 

other character parallels: fezco ( euphoria ), boris ( the goldfinch ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ),  nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt )

technically he’s homeless. he’s got a bedroom at his ma’s place, has a ton of squatter connects in the muggle scene and couch surfes aplenty, but dung doesn’t rent a place. why? landlords are evil. he could afford a place, just doesn’t see the point. life’s better with some adventure.

appears very neutral in public as it’s beneficial to his role in the order??? 

.... tortured artist. writes poetry and loves to draw and paint. 

tattooed the fuck up. some are his own designs.

can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash. 

loves animals. he loves stray cats especially <3 they are his kin. 

an anarchist. a bit of a punk. a deep idealist with a cowardly heart so constantly betraying himself (and sometimes others?)

queer! enby! genderfluid! i used he/him pronouns throughout this intro but dung truly doesn’t give a damn what u use. loves to dress up in feminine clothes. 

has a ton of aliases, lol, the most important one being marigold fincher. 

cusses too fuckin much to be healthy :/

oh no he is a big sad insecure kid deep inside :/ dont tell anyone how embarrassing!!!! shhhh!! it’s a secret.

quick connection ideas

victim. wow please. if your character is rich. let me steal from u. pick ur pockets. break into ur house. get some of ur stuff and drop it on the black market. 

customer. dung sells. whatever u need. drugs. weird magical things. ask and ye shall receive. his prices are whack but he does deliver <3

pal. party friends! order friends! random encounter friends! dung has a trashmouth and loves to talk pls let him chat u up and u will never be rid of him <3

couch. he couch surfs. a lot. if ur character trusts dung enough to let him into their home (which they shouldnt) then pls let him sleep over for a night. he will leave a strangely expensive necklace on ur kitchen table as a thank u. or wilted flowers. no in between.

skeptic. ur char is in the order and thinks dung is a liability and maybe they have a point. a point mundungus would rather not face :)

dmle bitches. dung hates anyone authoritative but esp the coppers at the ministry (hit wix & aurors) (yea he calls them coppers sorry he doesnt respect them enough to call them aurors <3). give me that doug judy/jake peralta dynamic. or just someone in the dmle who is like ... sigh this guy again??? 

fwb/one night stand/fling/etc. he’s a bit slutty <333 give him some ppl he’s hooked up with / will hook up with.

[royalynx]

(   *  💀  /  daniel ezra, cis male, he/him  )  —  is that kingsley shacklebolt i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty two year old gryffindor, returning for their seventh school year, but their friends would tell you that they are grounded & commanding as well as opinionated & strong-willed. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re pureblood, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: the calming presence in the back of the room, muggle records hidden in drawers, steaming mugs of tea, the warmth of a hug, the burn of quiet fury.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Luke Cage (Jessica Jones), Kingsley Shacklebolt (Books: Order of the Phoenix through Deathly Hallows), Jake Reilly (Private Practice), Terry Jeffords (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), Alphonso ‘Mack’ Mackenzie (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Matt Simmons (Criminal Minds), Odafin Tutuola (Law and Order: SVU), Spencer James (All American).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: ???

LINKS: Pinterest (Coming Soon). Playlist (Coming Soon).

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

I N T R O

full name ➵ Kingsley Akiel Shacklebolt

nicknames ➵ King; Kings; Kas; Shack; Shacklebolt; Royal

pronouns ➵ he/him/his

orientation ➵ bisexual biromantic

birthdate / age ➵ May 8th, 1957, 15:32 am / 22 years old

birthplace ➵ Birmingham, England

childhood home ➵ Birmingham, England

current residence ➵ Hogwarts, Scotland

religion ➵ atheist

occupation ➵ full - time student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

P H Y S I C A L

height ➵ 5 feet, 10 1/2 inches / 179 cm

weight ➵ 78 kg / 171lb

body type ➵ mesomorph ( athletic; generally hard body; well defined muscles; rectangular shaped body; strong; gains muscle easily; gains fat easily )

hair ➵ black, shaved/cropped 

eye color ➵ dark brown

dominant hand ➵ ambidextrous

FC ➵ Daniel Ezra

voice ➵ Daniel Ezra

special characteristics ➵

tattoo of a lion on the back of his neck that roars when danger is near

acne scars on cheeks

perfect posture

smells of ➵

broom wax

toothpaste

lavender, anise, basil, bergamot and lemon; geranium, ylang-ylang and jasmine; oakmoss, vetiver, tonka bean, patchouli, vanilla and sandalwood - Brut by Faberge

E M O T I O N A L

zodiac ➵ taurus sun (x); virgo rising; virgo moon

MBTI ➵ ISTJ (“The Logistician”)

positive traits ➵  grounded; commanding; courageous; considerate; observant; dedicated; forbearing to an almost mind-boggling degree; put-together; knowledgeable; self-reliant.

neutral traits ➵ fearless; calming; stolid; diplomatic; paternalistic.

negative traits ➵ opinionated; strong-willed; quiet; stubborn; high-minded; aloof to some; reticent; stoic; overcritical; has very high expectations of himself & others.

likes ➵ playing Quidditch; freshly baked bread; playing Gobstones at 3am; a warm bed; muggle record players; purple; watching the sea; forehead kisses; DADA; organized notes; wearing rings; honeycakes; David Bowie; dragonhide boots; chocolate frogs; firedrakes; Charms; Firewhiskey; watching the fire in the Gryffindor common room; twenty; red wine; laughing with Frank and Alastor; Transfiguration; The Beatles; his sister

dislikes ➵ legilimency; bigotry; raisins in chocolate; Divination; messy desks; foggy London; Sacred 28; people flaking on him; his team losing Quidditch matches; pumpkin juice; using school brooms; sushi; magic quills; pixies; History of Magic; the treatment of squibs by wizarding society; muddy orange; gigglewater; the texture of mushrooms; feeling unsettled; licorice; rollercoasters; toads; the word mudblood; Turkish delight

amortentia ➵

freshly cut grass

roast chicken dinner

aftershave

sandalwood

M A G I C

blood status ➵ pureblood

wand ➵ Alder wood with cherry trailed over the front like the path of a river, or a lightning bolt, White River Monster spine core, 14 and a 1/4 inches, solid

whilst Alder makes for an unyielding wood, its ideal owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likeable. Whereas most wand woods seek similarity in the characters of those they will best serve, alder is unusual in that it seems to desire a nature that is, if not precisely opposite to its own, then certainly of a markedly different type. When an alder wand is happily placed, it becomes a magnificent, loyal helpmate. Of all wand types, alder is best suited to non-verbal spell work, whence comes its reputation for being suitable only for the most advanced witches and wizards. (Cherry, a very rare wand wood creates a wand of strange power, most highly prized by the wizarding students of the school of Mahoutokoro in Japan, where those who own cherry wands have special prestige. The Western wand-purchaser should dispel from their minds any notion that the pink blossom of the living tree makes for a frivolous or merely ornamental wand, for cherry wood often makes a wand that possesses truly lethal power, whatever the core, but if teamed with dragon heartstring, the wand ought never to be teamed with a wizard without exceptional self-control and strength of mind.) The use of a  White River Monster spine produced spells of force and elegance. 

patronus ➵ Lynx

E D U C A T I O N

Hogwarts class ➵ Gryffindor, 1981

extracurriculars ➵

Gryffindor Prefect / September 1980 - June 1981

Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team / September 1979 - June 1981

Gryffindor Chaser / October 1975 - June 1981

Charms Club / September 1975 - June 1981

Toothill Duelling Club / September 1978 - June 1981

Slug Club / December 1977 - June 1981

courses & exams ➵

Ancient Runes - O

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

Arithmancy - O

Muggle Studies - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O

now studying Alchemy ( predicted an O )

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

health ➵

strawberry allergy

pets ➵ 

Archimedes; the family owl ( great horned owl )

handwriting ➵ Sebastian Bobby

F A M I L Y

Ora Shacklebolt (nee Kayoude) ➵ paternal grandmother; socialite; alive

Kingsley Shacklebolt I ➵ grandfather; Wizengamot member; alive

Yara Audley (nee Idowu) ➵ maternal grandmother; homeschooled; apothecary worker; alive

Akiel Audley ➵ maternal grandfather; homeschooled; Quidditch supply store owner; alive

Alaric Shacklebolt I ➵ father; Gryffindor; Senior Auror for the DMLE; alive

Meera Shacklebolt ➵ mother; homeschooled (opted out of attending Ilvermorny / Hogwarts); apothecary worker; alive

Eralia Audley ➵ maternal aunt; homeschooled; Senior Assistant to the Jamaican Minister of Magic; alive

Gabrielle Shacklebolt ➵ paternal aunt; Hufflepuff; Ministry employee; alive

Edward Shacklebolt (took wife’s name) ➵ paternal uncle; Hufflepuff; job; alive

Khenan Shacklebolt ➵ paternal uncle; Ravenclaw; curse breaker for Gringotts; alive

Kingsley Akiel Shacklebolt (II) ➵ self; Gryffindor; Future Senior Auror for the DMLE; alive

Bianca Omnira Shacklebolt ➵ sister; fifth year Ravenclaw; unknown future; alive

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌

his parents used to say he was born for diplomacy. that’s what they’d drilled into him since he was born: fight the good fight, be honest and good and stay calm, always. they can only catch you off guard when you aren’t. he’d always been somewhat of a natural diplomat — the oldest child, expectations hung from his shoulders as if they were coats and he, a coat rack. he’d always been a quiet child, somewhat unassuming, almost shy, content to play and be alone, often found even as a baby, simply amusing himself with his fist over crying, wailing for attention. when they attended the galas and balls befitting of a family part of the sacred 28, little changed. in fact, he was praised for it — how level-headed he was, even when all he wanted to do was scream and shout and set fire to the curtains by the window to stop them yammering on about the importance of blood purity and their precious, precious privilege, how he smiled politely and shook hands and never, ever made a scene. he hated them. he hated every last one of them. their fake smiles and empty eyes, how they hated for no reason and believed themselves to be superior — a kernel of a fallacy that kingsley, even as a child, could never subscribe to.

but kingsley was nothing if not a good man, and a good son, and so, he stayed silent — at least, to everyone who never crossed the boundaries of their home. to them, kingsley was a young wizard who showed particular promise in their circle, but to those who saw him at home, his internal torture over it was obvious. he had muggle neighbours, even muggle friends, people who made him laugh and gave his parents presents when his beloved baby sister was born, and he could not abide the dual life his parents were living. when they were home, they were tolerant — amused, even, by the muggles they surrounded themselves with, something his mother always said was to keep them grounded, because she’d already lost one sibling to pureblood mania and refused to lose herself, or her husband, or either of her children. when they were at the galas, they were cold, a little aloof, they laughed along with jokes at muggles expenses, they shook hands, ate appetisers, danced and never seemed to show any remorse for the roles they had to play those nights, though he knew they had to feel guilty (he hoped they felt guilty.) he knew they felt they had to do it to survive — to thrive, even, in a world in which they weren’t always welcome, but he hates it.

he loves his family. kingsley loves them with every part of him, loves his younger sister with his entire heart, is never not seen at home without her practically hanging off his ankles, and then his knees, and then his hips, until she’s too tall and too old for that, he loves his mother and relishes her hugs and the way she always knows what to say to make him feel better, he loves his father and that deep, slow river of calm that seems to run through him, the same river kingsley has always felt took root in him, but he hates their legacy. he hates their part in the sacred twenty eight. he hates every part of it. he hates that they agreed to this — to what feels like a mortal lock, an unbreakable vow, tying themselves to this until the end of time. he hates that he understands why — their blood runs pure, he knows, in other wizards standards, but knowing what the sacred twenty eight stands for? what it really represents? kingsley thinks that their blood is the blood that’s dirty, that they’re the ones who ought to be ashamed of themselves for their existence, that they’re the ones who value opulence and power over people’s lives and that makes them wrong and evil and undeserving of their magic. it’s the first time — the only time — his parents have ever seen him truly angry — he remembers it well, being fourteen and all uncontrolled fury for the first time, how the quiet anger had burned and swelled under his skin until he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and how he’d made all the glass windows in the dining room shatter, the glass raining like sand when his father waved it away with a swish of his wand, kingsley’s chest heaving as he yells, raging against their indifference, feeling oddly soothed when his mother pulls him into his arms and whispers that she’s sorry. she’s sorry. she knows, she knows. he wishes that were enough — that apology, that acknowledgement that they were — are — hypocrites.

even still, his love for his family, flaws and all, remains, though he’s slowly pulled back from any engagement with the pureblood world over the years. he’s very proud to be his father’s son — the son of an auror, recipient of the order of merlin second class — and his mother’s. he’s proud to be his sister’s big brother, her protector. he’s even more proud when he gets his letter to hogwarts, confirming what they all already knew — magic is strong in the shacklebolt family. he picks up the family wand, purchased in america in the early 1920s — alder with cherry trailed over the front like the path of a river, or a lightning bolt, white river monster spine core, fourteen and a quarter inches, solid — and he feels a piece of himself slots firmly into place. hogwarts is where his father went, where his father’s father went (over ilvermorny), and though he can no longer pretend to be complacent to their every whim in regards to the sacred twenty eight (something which both his parents have since begun to shun), he knows getting sorted into gryffindor would make them both proud, and that’s what he wants, so that’s what be did — the bat barely touched his head before declaring him a gryffindor. even now, as a twenty two year old seventh year on the brink of graduating into a fully fledged war, he wants to make them proud. he wants to be a pillar of strength, safety, tolerance, love, support, he wants to be the friendly face ushering people to safety, he wants to be the one raining hellfire down on the prejudiced idiots who think that they’re any different to anyone else, with magic or without, on this planet, that they’re superior in any way because of their blood.

[colorfullfalls]

Warm me up

Embry Call x Reader

Between Forks and La Push, supernatural occurances were constant. Vampires, wolves, but the new visitors were witches. A coven of witches moved directly between Forks and La Push, which created a massive headache for the Cullen's and Quileutes.

The witches were unpredictable and everyone seemed weary about them. The imprints were strictly told to steer clear of them. Worry coursed through the wolves veins as the thought of the love of their lives being magically hurt in any way.

Y/N was bored. Embry was patrolling a lot lately for the Black Pack due to the additional supernatural beings. She admired his dedication and hours upon hours protecting the people. But she missed him. And even more so, she was bored.

"Sweetheart, please don't go anywhere without someone who is.. well... A wolf or vampire. It sounds dumb but we aren't sure with what we are dealing with."

Embry's honest genuine worries flowed through her brain every time she thought about saying fuck it and leaving the small house.

She watched movies, cleaned again and again, organized a thousand times, played with the dogs in the yard, danced in the kitchen, painted and even sewed. Still, she yearned to actually go out in public. Walmart roaming at 2 am seemed like an absolute dream, but Embry would go into cardiac arrest if you went there, let alone so late.

He always claimed that late nights made people lonely and that led to them doing bad shit. He was so paranoid that you would fall victim to someone's boredom gone wrong. He loved Y/N more than the world and God, he wanted to shelter her and keep her safe.

The imprints were alright with doing whatever their wolves said. Stay inside- they did. Don't talk to the cullens- they did. But Y/N was not like that. She was stubborn as a mule, and Embry knew better than to try to treat her like that. She was a free woman who refused to bend to whatever others wanted.

Embry grew up respecting women. Growing up with his mom made him realize how strong women are. Tiffany didn't need a man's presence, money, or help to raise her son. He knew felt proud to have his mom. He loved her almost as much as he loved Y/N. Which is an insane amount considering Y/N was his life.

Sitting on the counter with Embry standing between her legs, she knew shit was serious. His wide brown eyes held sorrow and fear as he explained how dangerous the witches could potentially be. And that he knew she hated trying to be told what to do, but she would save him loads of worrying if she would please listen.

Y/N solemnly agreed because she knew that this matter was serious. What she didn't realize was that he would be absent so much. She missed him. Having him home would make the time fly by. His very presence was all that she needed. Craved it.

Y/N had a sudden idea. Having a hammock would be nice. Two beautiful oak trees rooted close by would be a wonderful place to hang one. She could read on it, paint on it, and stare at the sky for hours. She blushed as images of her and embry on it ran through her mind.

Leaving was a bad idea. Her mind said, no. Be smarter than that. Her heart said that she wanted that hammock and needed it. She bit her lip as she glanced at the clock. Embry wouldn't even know. Y/N decided she would lie and say she had the thing all along if he were to ask about it.

That's it, she was going. She went, got it, and felt great. Happy. Fulfilled. Excited to put it up.

She was halfway home when her car slowly halted. Gas pedal was down but the car was not moving.

"What the fuck?!" She stated, hitting the gas pedal a few times. Y/N groaned as she threw her head back. If she wasn't home soon she would be found by a very angry and dissapointed wolf. A metaphorical dog house, ironically.

Tapping left to her head made Y/N jump, screams rippling out of her throat. Hand on her throat in surprise she turned.

Gorgeous piercing green eyes looked expectantly at her. Tattoos spread down her arms, but they were almost unnoticeable due to the black hair cascading over them. Y/N swore that she never saw such beautiful hair before.

The woman had a calm look on her face, but she was intimidating none the less. She opened the car door and all Y/N could do was watch as her heart beat out of her chest.

"Wolf girl.... Could sense you miles away." She said, leaning on the door.

"Im- uh- hah, I'm not a wolf..." Y/N stammered, clinging to her seat belt in fear. Embry was for sure going to scold her for hours now.

"An imprint, whatever. You have association with them. It's simple. See, you came from La Push, their territory. No one goes there really. So you're a wolf girl one way or the other."

Y/N sheepishly nodded, glancing away from the woman and to her phone. Maybe if she got ahold of Embry he could save her before anything happened. Her hand twitched to grab it but suddenly she gasped, crippling pain invading her body.

Y/N cried out in pain as she sank into the seat. An instant headache crept up the back of her head as tears spilled.bShit shit shit. This witch meant business, and wasn't scared to use powers already.

Flame like feeling stopped and Y/N gasped for breath in her driver seat. She hit the steering wheel a few times in frustration.

"God, maybe use your words next time?" Y/N venomously spat, glaring at the green eyes witch.

"Waste of my breath, hun. Girl talk isn't girl talk if you call your wolf man."

"Don't want girl talk." Y/N mumbled, still calming down from being hurt. She didn't want to anger her but sometimes it was hard to bite her tongue.

"Let's cut to the chase. You need to tell the wolves to lay off. Stop pacing around our area. Witch business is none of their concern" The witch knelt down and got closer to Y/N's face.

"Tell them that... You think they listen to me? Sure, I'm an imprint and I can voice my opinion, but the pack does as it chooses. I have no power over them." Y/N softly said.

"Seduction. You own your wolf. I'm familiar with how imprinting works. You control this man's life! So don't give me that 'I can't control anything' speech. You can and will relay the message."

Anger coursed through Y/N's veins. How dare the asshole witch act like Y/N can just suck off Embry and then he does whatever she says? He didn't own her, and she didn't own him. Insinuating that Embry was Y/N's toy made her want to scream. She kept calm and shook her head.

"You're oh so wrong..." Y/N mumbled shaking her head, "You should've talked to them because Embry is not going to be happy when he finds out you did this. Infuriated, actually."

"Wow, so Embry is his name? It's a handsome one, truth be told." The witch stood back up.

"Don't."

The witch's tongue poked out to wet her lips before she spoke in a scary calm tone, "Do as I say...you'll live. Simple. task. Look, I'm not stupid, I would never face a wolf alone and right now I'm the only one home. But you see, 'm getting rather fed up with all the sneaking around our place. I'm actually angrier than I thought...."

"shit" Y/N whispered

The witch looked at Y/N thoughtfully, "Maybe if I hurt you a bit, they would get the hint..."

Y/N shook her head, "You said you know about imprinting, but obviously not enough because going after a wolf is idiotically stupid. They're sacred. Not to be messed with. They would die for us."

At that moment snarking was heard. Y/N felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek as she felt relief rush through every cell in her body like a river that had been dammed up. Embry was about to save her ass.

The witch jumped around in time to see Embry approach. She flicked her wrist as if to hurt him the way she hurt Y/N, but she was quickly jumped on by Bella. Bella choked her so that she would pass out.

Jacob ran out of the woods to help Bella tie up the woman's arms and legs. Embry shifted back, scrambling to throw on shorts and racing to your side.

His hands grasped her face as he checked her for any injuries. His stony expression broke as he cried out in relief, kissing Y/N's face all over.

"Baby, thank God we found you!" Em exclaimed, hugging her to his chest. Tears flowed down her face. That witch scared the daylight of out Y/N, and Embry saved her life.

°°°°

Hours later Embry sat with his chin on the edge of the bathtub while his lovely imprint sat inside of it. Bubbles filled the area up to her chest. Embry's heightened eyes couldn't see anything besides her shoulders and head. Her hair sat delicately in a bun to avoid getting damp.

Embry smiled smittenly at how pretty she looked in the candle light. Her doe eyes stared back at him equally lovingly. She blushed, looking away and sinking deeper into the water.

Baths always made her feel better, and after the day the imprint had, she needed one. As soon as they got home Embry ran the water and helped her in.

50's music softly played through the bluetooth speaker as the couple shared such an intimate moment.

Embry interlocked one of his hands with his imprint's soapy ones, "Thought I was gonna lose you today..." He murmured, brining the interlocked hands up so that he could kiss hers.

"For a while there, me too..."

Embry whimpered and kissed her hand a few times to center himself. Seeing that witch in front of his soulmate awakened things inside of him that he never knew he had in him.

He wanted to rip the witch's limbs slowly one by one, her screams echoing through the land. He wanted the witch bitch to beg for mercy and apologize relentlessly until her last breathe. But then his eyes moved to his scared girlfriend, and all he thought about was getting to her as soon as he could. Holding her in his strong arms and assuring her that all would be okay.

"Talked to Jake and I'm not patrolling for a while. Can't leave you again." He said with every fiber of his heart.

Y/N nodded, understanding that his inner wolf was still going crazy from the danger she had been in. She felt guilty for being dumb enough to leave the house over a hammock.

"Thank you for not yelling at me. I deserve it, like big time. I went to buy a fucking hammock. All of this, over a fun outside prop..." Y/N ranted, angry with herself.

"I was going to, but three seconds after I realized you were in danger... Scolding you was the last thing on my mind. Telling you to stay home and then never being there was hard on you, I get that. I'm sorry." He confessed.

Embry blamed himself. He knew Y/N hated being at home and with him not being there, she would hate it even more. His Y/N was a social woman and restricting that wasn't right. Not without him keeping her company.

"Apology isn't necessary, but thank you. Im a grown woman who should have more common sense."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair. Embry stroked his thumb across her hand as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired and he could tell.

"Love bug, why don't we dry you off and go to bed? We could both use sleep, hmm?"

She sleepily nodded.

Ten minutes later Embry spooned Y/N, squeezing her close as he could without hurting her. He felt her body shake a bit. Concern filled his face as he lifted up to look at her through the moon light.

"Y/n?"

She turned and instead of crying, she was laughing. Laughing so hard that her body was shaking. Embry slightly smiled, unaware of how to react.

"I bought a hammock today. I risked my life... For a hammock. But hey," she laughed harder, "now we can use it whenever. Because we have so much time alone. Trapped here."

Embry now grinned. He knew she was delirious and tired, but he thought it was cute, "We can lay in it tomorrow, all day. Just us." He whispered, nuzzling his nose agaisnt her cheek.

Y/N stopped laughing, "Id like nothing more. I'm so in love with you," she whispered suddenly serious. He felt his heart flutter as her lips brushed against his. He lost his breath as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Tease" he mumbled, caressing her face to bring her in for a propper kiss. She hummed as she pulled her wolf closer to her, drugged by his closeness. His warm body heat made her toasty as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She slightly pulled away.

"Warm me up, wolf boy." She said, kissing him once again. Embry almost lost his Y/N, but God was she alive with him at 2 am. Very alive.

[holidayblindspot]

Season of Hate/Season of Love (part 1)

Written by RAnsomedR0gue for the Blindspot in a Winter Wonderland event. Part 2 will be posted on December 9th!

***

Remi is nervous.

Which is new to her, something she doesn’t like it at all. She wasn’t nervous on combat missions, assassinations. She wasn’t even nervous about erasing her memory, having her entire body tattooed.

But this. Christmas Eve date day with Weller. She’s extremely tense, admonishes herself for not having pre-emptively killed him to get her out of this situation.

Though she has to admit the chocolate banana crepes he made for brunch were, in themselves, almost enough incentive to let him live. Even if he’s now dragged her to a holistic spa for a day of relaxing and pampering.

At first she thought he was just dropping her off, giving her some alone time. But she should have known better. Weller has no concept of wanting space from his wife. And has endless ways of surprising Remi, despite all the research she’d done into his life before handing herself over to him.

Surprise of the hour, their couple’s spa date. Who would have thought the surly special agent would be into therapeutic massage, eucalyptus steamrooms, hot baths. She doesn’t know why it makes her so anxious, she’s been playing his wife for months now. And despite his recovery and her illness there haven’t been enough viable excuses to abolish sex from their relationship. That, and Weller can be particularly convincing, has insider knowledge on how to turn her on physically.

So, he’s seen her naked plenty of times, she’s gotten used to it even. At least here they’re both wearing swim suits, were given fluffy robes too. Still, spending the day in hot pools and then getting massages together sounds intimidating to her. Extremely exposed, much too intimate.

Remi sighs, knows she’s delayed too long already. She walks out of the changing room into the crisp outdoor air, sees that snow has started to coat everything in white. Begrudgingly she thinks how magical everything looks, how inviting the steam of the pools is.

She spots Weller already soaking by a bubbling jet of water, following her possessively with his eyes even though she’s still wrapped up in her robe. It almost makes her smile, seeing how much he appreciates her. Even if she is only wearing his wife’s skin, wants to hate him. His love is overwhelming at times, makes her forget it isn’t meant for her.

Remi takes off her robe, hangs it on a hook. She can sense Weller gaping at her, allows herself a satisfied smile when she turns around and he looks completely star struck.

It doesn’t seem to matter to him that she’s lost muscle due to an increase in her symptoms, less time and energy to work out. It annoys her that she feels the need to measure up to Jane’s high standards, that she’s the one who went through SEAL training but Jane ended up with the impeccable fitness reputation at the FBI. Especially now, with her body rapidly failing her. Remi feels on edge about losing her most prized asset, her physical abilities. Hates that she’s more skinny than strong, that she feels vulnerable without her clothes on. Body image has never been a problem for her before. But that was before all the tattoos, a defective body, a stranger for a husband.

Weller himself though, he’s not the problem. The look in his eyes when he rakes them over her never changes from pure adoration. It’s almost difficult to be revered that much but she can’t deny its appeal. She certainly doesn’t have to worry about her ‘husband’ having a roving eye when it’s constantly glued to her.

Right now though his intense scrutiny is making her anxious as Remi enters the pool slowly, adjusts to the heat of the water before stepping her way over towards him.

“You’re staring,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes. “I know,” he replies, with a self-satisfied grin.

She should hate it, how possessive he is of her. It makes everything harder, is a constant source of annoyance. But that look on his face, as if awestruck by his good fortune. It’s hard to remember she’s not supposed to want it, that is is absolutely not endearing how much he adores her.

“I can’t help it. You are just so damn beautiful,” Weller continues.

Shit. It’s not meant to feel so good when he says things like that. She’s supposed to be inwardly repulsed while outwardly responding just enough to play her mark. She should only want him to think that she’s attractive so she has a way to manipulate him. Not because it tints her in warmth, because it actually makes her feel beautiful.

Remi feels another genuine smile escape, tries to hide it by ducking her head away as she floats over. But then she’s there beside him, sitting closer than she means to and he brings his hand up to her jaw, runs his thumb over her cheekbone. Turns her head towards him, so she can’t avoid the intense blue of his gaze.

“You know that right?” he asks quietly.

She knows it’s not a rhetorical question from his solemn tone, the sincerity of his eyes. Weller is incredibly easy to read when it comes to Jane, has no ability to be subtle about his wife. And right now he is pouring his heart into convincing her that her failing body is still attractive, that he thinks she’s perfect. Because he senses that she’s lost confidence in how she looks, is determined to fix it by showering her in love and compliments.

No wonder it’s a constant shitshow disaster trying not to love him back.

“Yes, Kurt,” she sighs, struggling not to betray how much his comment really means.

But then he wipes his thumb over her cheek once more, tilts her chin up and kisses her sweetly, pulling back just as more urgency begins to develop.

“Good,” he replies. “Because sometimes I think you forget. But I remember every time I look at you.”

He’s so corny she wants to groan in his face. Remi tells herself she would have already done it without a speck of regret if it wasn’t for her Jane act. But instead she shakes her head at him, doesn’t bother fighting the smile that comes to her lips.

“You didn’t tell me that Christmas makes you so sentimental,” she admonishes, trying to deflect an onrush of emotion.

“Hmmm. I guess Christmas makes me sentimental,” Kurt admits with a shrug, followed by another soft kiss.

Shit, Remi thinks. It’s only early afternoon on Christmas Eve. She doesn’t think she can take another day and a half of Weller being adorable.

***

Weller has never been a big Christmas person, a result of a disappointing childhood. He was always nervous about the holidays, wanting to make it fun and ‘normal’ for his little sister so she didn’t realize all the things wrong with their lives. Certainly, since the age of ten, he’s never thought of Christmas as a joyous time. The holiday season only pointed out all that he didn’t have, highlighted all his perceived flaws.

He feels much the same about Christmas and his wife, their whirlwind relationship having sabotaged the holidays every year he’s known her. Which he takes upon himself as a personal failure, just one of his many regrets.

Her first Christmas was spent in a CIA black site being tortured by Jake Keaton. Her second she was on the run and he was too miserable to even enjoy Bethany’s first Christmas. Her third was just after he confessed about Avery and she left him again.

Now this year she’s sick and it’s breaking his heart. Kurt refuses to believe this could be her last one and yet he has to prepare just in case. It’s been making him extremely anxious, desperate to make things perfect for her. Especially because she’s been so closed off since he came out of the coma, even harder to crack than usual.

He understands it’s just her own way, that it’s his inclination too. To hide the hurt and the fear, to hunker down within instead of reaching out. Because talking about it makes it all too real, exposes everything. But it kills him that she won’t confide in him, makes his worry levels shoot through the roof.

Weller knows he has no control over it, isn’t even upset with her. Jane’s determined spirit, her tendency to want to take things on alone, it’s part of her and he loves all of her. He’s just angry at the circumstances that gave her a fatal disease, furious that he can’t do more to solve all of her problems, relieve her stress, take care of his wife.

So instead of stewing in his endless frustration, he’d thrown himself fully into one thing he could control. Giving her the best Christmas ever, to make up for all the terrible ones in their past.

However now, sitting in a hot pool, watching his gorgeous wife walk over and unrobe, Kurt has to admit this part of the plan is a bit self-serving. Even if his purported goal is to make her feel as beautiful as she is, despite her illness. He can tell she’s not satisfied with her own body lately, has noticed her frowning at herself in the mirror, exercising even when her energy levels aren’t up to it.

Of course it hasn’t changed how he feels about her, to him she’s as stunning as ever. He stares wide-eyed as Jane slowly enters the pool and walks over to him. There’s snow in her hair, sparkly flakes on her eyelashes. She looks like a fierce winter nymph, all fresh and deadly. Weller knows that he’s gaping, does nothing to try to stop it. She overwhelms his senses in the best possible way.

“You’re staring,” she grumbles, rolls her eyes at him dramatically.

“I know,” he replies, grinning broadly. “I can’t help it. You are just so damn beautiful.”

Jane lets a smile slip through, tries to tilt her head so he can’t see it as she sits beside him. He’s not fooled though, he can tell she’s still unsure of herself, isn’t entirely convinced. Which is not okay with him at all, needs to be immediately remedied.

He reaches his hand up to her jaw, runs his wet thumb over her cheek.

“You know that right?” he asks quietly.

Jane doesn’t avoid his eyes this time, looks at him and shakes her head fondly.

“Yes, Kurt,” she sighs.

He’d promised himself he’d be restrained, that he was not going to turn a day all about Jane into his own desire of making out with her in a hot tub. Still, he can’t help it as he wipes his thumb over her cheek once more, tilts her chin up and kisses her softly. Though he does somehow manage to pull back just as things get a little heated.

“Good,” he replies. “Because sometimes I think you forget. But I remember every time I see you.”

So often with Jane he finds himself voicing very un-Weller-like things. Sappy emotional stuff that should make him flinch just to think about. Yet he constantly wants to say these things to her, to make her smile, to make her groan, to let her know exactly how he feels about her.

“You didn’t tell me that Christmas makes you so sentimental,” she mutters, though he can tell she’s only pretending to be annoyed.

“Hmmm. I guess Christmas makes me sentimental,” he shrugs, even though it’s really Jane that makes him feel this way. He can’t exactly admit that though, not when she already thinks he’s being overly expressive.

Kurt pulls her in for one more kiss before tempering his longing and letting go. Reminds himself it’s not about his needs, that it’s Jane’s day and she hasn’t been as comfortable with physical affection lately. She still sometimes uses it as a tool to distract him, end disagreements. But she’s also more resistant to his advances, holds herself away. Which he hopes is just Jane trying to shield him from her illness, a result of her recent body image issues. Not a sign that she’s detaching from him, doesn’t enjoy the feeling of his touch anymore.

She stays at a distance for awhile, he can see her mind stirring. He’s learned not to take it too personally, her new need for space. As much as he wants to fix everything for her, he can’t control how she feels about being sick, how she deals with the spectre of death. All he can do is be there for her when she allows it, swallow his hurt when she doesn’t.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Kurt asks, wonders what he did to upset her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up how she looks, put that in her mind. Or she didn’t want to be kissed, touched by him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he continues, worry starting to collect in his spine.

Good one, Weller, he thinks. Way to screw it up less than ten minutes into a date he had wanted to make perfect.

Jane exhales audibly then finally looks up at him, her expression in between worlds. He’s had a hard time reading her since she was diagnosed, which just terrifies him more, makes him feel like he’s losing her already. At the moment she looks to be battling herself, resisting some inner inclination.

Just as he thinks she’s about to push him away, possibly run from the pool, Jane lets a smidgen of a smile through, bites the lower corner of her lip in that way that absolutely slays him.

“I’m not upset,” she confesses as she scoots over and reaches her arms around his neck, buries herself into his chest.

Weller wraps himself around his wife, utterly shocked in the best way possible. He relishes in the invitation to touch her, runs twin lines up her back and neck with his hands and feels her shiver despite the heat of the water.

When Jane looks up again, she’s wearing an expression he hasn’t seen since before they found out about the ZIP poisoning. One he thought he might never see again.

This time she pulls herself up towards him, kisses him with more passion than appropriate in a public pool. Not that he’s opposed to it, would break his personal code of conduct for this kind of encouragement from Jane anytime.

Kurt responds eagerly, has desperately missed this kind of heat from her. Even when he gently coaxes her into sex these days she’s holding something back, some piece of herself. Now though, it’s all of her, this woman that means everything to him.

When they finally pause for a breath, he tries to tamp down his arousal, remind himself where he is. Jane does not help though when she gazes at him intently, the green of her eyes lit with pleasure.

“You make me feel so good, Kurt,” she says sincerely, with an openness that’s been absent for so long.

His chest floods with warmth, absolute joy.

Kurt Weller can disarm bombs, stop terrorist attacks. Arrest murderers, save innocent lives. But this is what brings him the most fulfilment. Showering his wife with love, making her feel beautiful and appreciated on Christmas Eve.

[wintersxsoul]

You Saw Me (2)

Summary: You have the life you’d always dreamt of. The job of your dreams, the perfect boyfriend and the best group of friends. But what happens when that life is not enough and your soulmate is not who you thought it would be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: My lovely @all1e23 is the beta for this series so give her some love because she has to put up with my infinite bullshit because my brain was fried. A reblog and comment are always appreciated and what feeds my soul to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am. In order to be tagged, please send an ask, I won’t be counting comments/reblogs or pm, I am a mess and forget it so please do it!

“Natasha Romanoff, care to explain why the fuck you brought her, again?” Bucky muttered between his teeth, anger evident in his tone. 

You were laughing loudly alongside Steve at something Sam had said, ignoring Bucky’s comment. You met them all in college, you still remember the weird relationship Nat and Bucky had, and how they broke up not long after you met them. Natasha had explained that no matter how hard they both tried to make it work, they weren’t made for each other, they weren’t soulmates. You all believed in soulmates because you had seen them, you had seen how Steve and Peggs’ tattoos appeared in front of your eyes the day she stumbled upon your group so many years ago, both of them gravitating towards the other, it was like magic. You still looked at your body cautiously every day in the mirror, waiting for your date with Jake to show up, but neither of you had it, yet. You were sure that he was the one for you, that he was your soulmate, you still had hope and so did he.

Bucky was glaring at you from across the table, still talking to Nat in whispers, the redhead shaking her head, dismissing whatever that asshole was telling her. James Buchanan Barnes was your least favorite person in the world since the first day you met, his arrogance and childish behavior getting on your nerves every minute you spent close to him. You couldn’t even remember what you had done for him to hate you in the first place, but after all those years, you couldn’t care less.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled with that lovestruck expression Nat hated to see on you so much.

Honey, do you feel like going for a ride and having a pizza?

Your stomach growled and you typed the answer, already standing up and straightening your clothes.

Ugh love, how well you know me. And...what kind of ride are we talking about? ;)

You were chugging your second pint when you received the answer and you almost choked, coughing maniacally.

“Hey what happened? Is Mr.Perfect talking dirty?” Sam asked jokingly, your expression giving away all the information you were trying so hard to hide.

“Oh god, that reminds me...Y/n we have to talk about college.” All eyes were on you now, even Bucky’s, even though they felt more like knives.

“Uhm, no we don-”

“What happened in college??” Steve and Sam asked at the same time, all eyebrows in the table rising. You glared at Natasha, blushing like crazy. You would never hear the end of this. Never.

“So, remember all the parties and lessons these two missed because they needed to study?” Nat asked and once she saw the confused expressions and nods, proceeded to expose you.

“They were actually studying themselves. Can you believe they lied to us for almost a decade? Thinking they were pure souls?” Everyone gasped at the given information and started sharing memories of all the parties you had missed because you were too busy fucking your boyfriend. You were texting Jake to please hurry up because the morons were laughing at you when someone in the table cleared their throat.

“Can we please talk about something that is actually important and not someone else’s sex life?” You snapped your head towards Bucky and he was glaring at you so you just stood up, grabbed your things and called it a night. You huffed in annoyance when you got out of the bar and felt someone grabbing your arm to stop you and you knew exactly who it was.

“You better let me go or I will punch you straight in the dick.” When you turned around, all anger melted when you saw Jake, looking at you confused and a bit scared.

“Uhm, I assume Buck came as well?” You pinched the bridge of your nose and nodded, approaching him and pressing your forehead to his chest, instantly melting into his warmness, all anger and hatred forgotten. Jake hugged you, placing his hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair. He leaned in and kissed the top of your head, breathing in your scent.

“Please, let’s go.” You whined and he giggled, your whole body vibrating with his laugh. You smiled into his chest and pushed him away jokingly.

“Okay, you go say hi to the group while I wait for you here.” He nodded and gave you a kiss to your temple. You took out your phone and pack of cigarettes, and when you noticed the date you were at, the blood froze on your veins. You had forgotten your anniversary. You looked inside the bar and saw Jake talking and laughing with Bucky and Sam, Steve talking to Nat, a serious expression on their faces. You called your favorite Italian restaurant and booked a table, sighing relieved when they told you they still had plenty of tables and they actually had your special spot free. That restaurant was the first place you went for your first date and it was a tradition for you to go there on special occasions like birthdays, dates or just whatever you wanted to celebrate.

Once Jake parked the bike in front of your house, you hopped off and waited for him to do the same.

“So, the guys told me they discovered why we missed so many gatherings at college...I thought at least Tasha knew?” He held your hand and walked besides you, slowing his pace so it would take you longer to reach your apartment.

“Well, they never asked and it’s something private. I know they are my closests friends but I don’t know, it’s something between you, me and our furniture.” He smiled widely at you, a hint of mischief glowing in his eyes. You smirked at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, a soft moan escaping your lips as soon as he pinned you against the closest wall, his hands tugging at your clothes, yours already inside his pants.

“Open the door now, please.” He pleaded you, his lips brushing yours, both of you panting and eager to touch the other.

You looked at him while he brushed his teeth, a sudden wave of sadness hitting you when you didn’t catch a glimpse of his soulmate tattoo. You stood up and went to your mirror and searched for any little mark, any little number on your skin. But as always, nothing showed up, your skin was as blank as ever. Neither of you had found your soulmate yet, neither of you were destined to be with the other. But even though you knew that, nothing stopped you from trying, from loving him as much as you did, as much as he did.

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble-a-thon: Six, What If

Title: Behind Bars Rating: R [Gabe’s potty mouth and mentions of violence] Relationships: Vague references to Gabriel/Nancy Trigger Warnings: Mentions of gang-related violence and mentions of prison violence. A super vague reference to child abuse, but it’s blink and you miss it. Brief Summary: What if Gabriel never met Johnny?

Long legs stretched out across his prison issue cot, back propped up against the cold, white painted brick wall. He was dying for a cigarette, but he’d been banned from yard time for three months, like it was his fault that some guy had slammed his hand in a door over and over again until it broke. Sure, other prisoners had overheard Gabe threatening to break his hand, but he wasn’t even there when his hand broke, so punishing him for doing it was bullshit. Even if he “technically” told him to. It’s not like they could prove it, but shit like this was why he hadn’t gotten parole. 

Not that he cared one way or the other these days. To be fair, he’d sort of half-assed his interview anyway. He’d been in prison eighteen years. What the fuck was he going to do on the outside? Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he instead focused on his desire for a cigarette again. If he’d known that particular incident would get him solitary for so long, he probably wouldn’t have pushed the matter. He’d already given up a shit ton in his life; he didn’t plan on giving up smoking, too.

“James.” There was a knock on his door. One of the perks of solitary was privacy. Sure, there was a big ass window so they could see into his cell, and the slot to pass him meals and books, but he was mostly left to himself, which was nice. And he’d bribed one of the guards to bring him sketchbooks, charcoal, and watercolors. So, he wasn’t actually hating solitary. It still caught him off guard when someone knocked on his cell door, which was probably the point of the door, now that he thought about it. “You got a visitor.”

He put down the book he’d been reading and turned to look at the guard in surprise. “I got a what now?” Gabriel asked in confusion, more than surprise, as he sat up properly to look at him. It had been years since he’d gotten a visitor, and he had a very strict guest list. 

There was a time when Dusty kept sending lawyers to try to talk him into appealing to have his case reopened, but that had just led to a whole lot of nothing. There was one lawyer that had seemed promising, (Jake Matthews? Jared Martin? Joshua Murdock? No… Jonathan Michaels! That was it. He was some bigwig now, apparently.), but there had been a lock down on the day he was supposed to visit, and well, the consultation never happened. 

The only people allowed to visit him were family, but they didn’t visit. Well, and Cesar, his old cell mate, but he wasn’t actually allowed to visit until his probation was up. “I don’t get visitors.”

Despite that, he allowed himself to be led out of the cell. One of the perks of being in prison for so long was that, well, he’d been in prison for so long. Inmates knew who he was, and he had a bit of a reputation, which was probably the other reason he kept getting stuck in solitary. He was so rarely not in solitary these days that he might as well consider it his own personal cell.

The only way to get to the maximum security visitors room involved taking the main corridor and walking past the mess hall, the rec room, and the commissary, which was a path Gabe was pretty sure they didn’t want him going down. As they walked and other inmates saw Gabe, they dropped to a knee, like he was prison royalty. He knew what they called him: the Queen of Cell Block B. The bizarre part was that he knew it was out of respect. 

Inmates were the biggest gossips Gabriel knew. There wasn’t a lot to do in prison, and talking? Well, that was both the smartest and dumbest pastime a prisoner could engage in, but without talk Gabe wouldn’t have the reputation he did. There was a sort of magic that came with being a guy who talked, and suddenly the people around him injured themselves so he wouldn’t do it to him. Reputations like that meant two things: 1) you had connections on the outside, 2) you had connections on the inside. Regardless, over the years Gabe’s reputation had grown into the monster it had become and prison transfers didn’t help.

It was no longer just the men from his gang, the Saviors, who knelt when he passed, not standing until he waved a hand in their direction. No, it was anyone who didn’t want to get on his bad side. It was exhilarating, but it also meant the warden didn’t necessarily want Gabe in Gen Pop, which meant that Gabe got a cushy sentence and the fear of all the men around him. Prison life was pretty good for him.

“Can you make them stop?” The guard, Simmons, asked. “It weirds me out seeing murderers bow.” He all but whined, but by the time he’d mentioned it, they were already in the visitors room.

Gabe smirked, and looked in the mirror to double-check how he looked:

Slicked back hair? Check.

Collar popped? Check.

Sleeves on his jumpsuit rolled back to show the numerous tattoos, many of which he’d done himself out of boredom? Check.

Once he was sure he looked decent, he let himself get patted down before entering the room. A part of him hoped it was one of his kids, but he didn’t have that kind of luck. His luck was pure shit. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he swaggered down the row of cubicles before stopping at the number the guard had told him. 

On the other side of the scratched Plexiglas was a young man, no older than eighteen. His brown hair was shaggy and kept falling into his eyes, and his hazel eyes made his stomach sink. Gabe was sure he’d never met this teenager before, but there was just something about him that was so fucking familiar. That was why he sat down, and picked up the phone.

“Have we met before?” Gabriel asked the kid, but when the boy didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes and nodded to the phone. A look of surprise and recognition crossed the young man’s face and he all but scrambled to pick up the phone. Once he did, Gabe repeated his question. “Have we met before?”

There was something about the boy’s face that reminded him of Georgie - the way his brow crinkled and the way he could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, sort of. I mean, you were there at my conception.” Gabe must have looked confused because the kid continued. “As soon as I turned eighteen, I petitioned to see my foster care record. My mom gave me up when I was a kid. I guess there was shady stuff going on that she didn’t want me to grow up around. I think she thought I’d get adopted but I just got bounced from house to house.”

Gabe blinked. That was a lot of information to take in all at once. “Kid, kid. That is way too much, way too fast.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’m gonna need you to go in some sort of normal order. Can we start at the beginning? I’m Gabriel, and you are?”

The kid blushed. “Sorry, yeah, sorry. That part’s important, right, right.  Bennett Knoxville Scott. Most people call me Knox though.” He looked sheepish. “I, uh, got your name from my birth mother. She’s a little weird, right?”

Gabe barked out a laugh before the full weight of what the kid, Knox, was telling him hit home. He only knew one Scott, and she wrote him a letter once a year just to let him know that their kids were still alive. She never mentioned having a… son? God, this had to be Nancy’s son with her new husband, except…. why the hell would she give him Gabe’s name. “Wait…. why would Nancy give you my name. I haven’t seen her in-”

“Eighteen years?” The boy asked, a wry smile on his lips. “Yeah, I was born about 6 months after you went to jail. I just… I aged out of the system, and I wanted to find out why my folks gave me up. Nancy… she had her reasons, I guess. But you… you had no idea I even existed, did you?”

Gabe shook his head, unable to get words out. He’d been in prison a long time, and he was definitely not the same person he’d been when he went in. Emotions didn’t come naturally to him any more. They were pushed down and set aside. Emotions didn’t do him any good here; they were a liability, but now he could feel something lodging in his throat. This stranger was his fucking kid. 

“No.” He finally managed out. “I had no fucking clue.”

Knox nodded excitedly. “That’s what I thought, and that’s what I told them when I met them.” 

Gabe blinked, and it all suddenly clicked into place. He couldn’t figure out how the boy had gotten in to see him, but now it made sense. He came in with someone who was on his list. A blonde and a brunette squeezed into the cubicle with Knox, and Gabe lost it. The phone clattered to the small table in front of him. One of his hands went over his mouth and the other one went to the Plexiglas. He didn’t need to be told who those girls were. He hadn’t seen them since they were young, but he knew immediately who they were.  

“Dad!” Cordelia’s tinny voice echoed from the dropped phone. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he picked up the phone again, and started wiping at his face. When had he started crying? That was embarrassing. “I’ve never been better.” He managed out, his gaze shifting between his three kids. “This is the best fucking day I’ve had in a long damn time.”

“James,” Simmons was back and standing behind him. “Times up. I gotta take you back to your cell.”

Gabe looked at his children for a moment. “Lemme just sort this out.” He hung up the phone, and turned to talk to Simmons, his back to his kids so they couldn’t see his face. “Surely three visitors means I get three times the usual allotted time, doesn’t it?” His voice was low, threatening, and his eyes were narrowed, showing just how dangerous he could be when he wanted. 

Simmons swallowed and glanced at the kids before looking back at Gabe. “Twenty more minutes, okay?” He said before scampering off again. 

That done, Gabe turned back to his kids, his face already back to a happy smile. He picked up the phone again. “We got twenty minutes. Let’s chat.”

[noelacciari]

alright this is kinda bad but I'm gonna ask anyway. so I'm a new/casual hockey fan and this girl I'm friends w is super into hockey and I'm kinda having to bluff my way through convos rn so could you give me a basic summary of the roster and stuff pls :)))

okay babe, so this is how we’re gonna set this up for you… personality quiz style. (also wait I’m assuming you mean Bruins so. im very sorry if this was about another team lol)

Step 1: pick your star

- Do you strive for perfection? Do you look for stability in a relationship? Can you appreciate a good beard? Do you need a perfect man to project all your feelings regarding men onto and then you never have to even look at another man in real life? Then Patrice Bergeron is the guy for you. He’s perfect. Like legit. Has been nominated for the Selke Award (best defensive forward) approximately a gazillion times, eventually they’re going to change it to The Bergy. Gorgeous play maker, dominate on the face-off circle. Quiet leader in the room. A pillar of the Boston community. The only person who can tame Marchand (we’ll get to him later). Every person in New England is AT LEAST 30% in love with him, regardless of sexual orientation. (I’m not even kidding). Future Hall of Famer. Without a doubt. (Forward (Center), #37, first line)

- Do you enjoy carbs? How about charming smiles? Do you enjoy men who toe the lines of fashion? Do you like a show, flashy lights and stunning tricks? Do you like people who make you smile, no matter how bad your day is? Then David Pastrnak is your man. Better know as Pasta (said with a deep Boston accent), he’s been tearing up the ice from the moment he arrived in TD Garden. A member of the Best Top Line in the League (alongside Bergeron - and that other guy who we will get to later). His goals are always absolutely nasty, just. Sexy, sexy hockey. Off the ice he’s sunshine personified, known for his chipped tooth smile, wearing checked suits and floral shirt, and just being generally the best. (Forward (winger), #88, first line)

- Are human sized chipmunks something you think would be pretty cool? How do you feel about Long Island? Would you think it’s funny if a guy who was a star player on a Boston team dated the daughter of a Pittsburgh coach? Do you think it’s even funnier if a guy who tweeted “I hate the Bruins” then proceeds to get drafted by them? Then Charlie McAvoy is your star d-man. At the ripe old age of 21, Long Island native Charlie McAvoy already carries a huge chunk of responsibility on the Bruins defense core. A future leader for the team (captain. imo), Charlie puts up incredible minutes, and is the perfect complement to his d-partner Zdeno Chara (we’ll get to him too). Also known as Cheeks (on tumblr) or Mac (by his teammates), Charlie isn’t afraid to throw his weight around on the ice, and he looks good doing it. Dude is a Bonafide Stallion. (Defense, #73, 1st Pair)

Step 2: Pick your Dad

- Are you vegetarian? How do you feel about EXTREMELY tall men wearing easter bunny onesies? Do you prefer to bike to work instead of taking the train? what about pigeons? If you consider pigeons friends, then Zdeno Chara is your new dad! (Boogie Woogie Woogie). You know how Bruins fans like to say - Don’t Poke The Bear? Well Big Zee is that hypothetical bear. Our beloved captain and father earned himself quite the reputation on the ice, known for his hard AF slap shots and even harder punches. Clocking in at 6′9″ and 250lbs, Zad is still a beast at 42 years old - and he apparently has no plans to retire. While his age doesn’t appear to be slowing him down on the ice, Zee has shown his softer side off the ice with his inspirational and extremely cute Instagram. He came into Boston in 2006 and was named Captain upon signing, and has forever changed the culture of the Boston Bruins. Chara facilitates an inclusive but hard working locker room, and his legacy will live on in Boston long after his retirement. (Defense, #33, first pair)

- Are you a dog person? Also are you American? Those are really the only 2 qualifications you need to chose David Backes as your dad. Although some of us older folks like me (at the stunningly old, reaching retirement age of 26) might consider Backes to be more of a daddy, the majority of Bruins tumblr view him as their Dad. Common nicknames include Dadkes and Papa, and his effect on the team after being brought back into the line-up during the playoffs has endeared him to fans. While his deal is… not great (he’s expensive!!) and he hasn’t performed up to how much money he’s paid, it’s clear that he’s a leader on the team. The young guys look up to him, and the older guys respect him, and that’s what we’s appreciates ‘bout him. Also. He LOVES animals. Backes and his wife Kelly (who have known each other since kindergarten how cute is that shit) have their own charity that helps animals!! (Forward (Winger/Center), #42, currently 2nd line)

- Were you really into magic as a kid (or currently)? Have you always gravitated to your one friend’s dad who was super quiet but super smart and taught you how to play chess at that cookout one time? Then your new dad is David Krejci! Sometimes called The Wizard, Krejci is known to make magic happen on the ice. Between no-look passes and somehow being able to know exactly where his wingers are going to be before they even know, tbh. Krej is probably the MOST underrated player on the Bruins, but he’s always dependable, and always seems to be there when you need him.  (Forward (Center), #46, 2nd Line)

Step 3: pick your weirdo

- Have you never eaten a vegetable willingly in your life? Do you consider yourself a chef - specifically for children? Do you think getting your teeth knocked out is fun and exciting? Then Jake “JD” DeBrusk is the dude for you! Goofy AF off the ice and a sniper on it, Jake is extremely worthy of being your chosen weirdo. He has a lucky winter hat named “tuukka” that he’s been wearing all playoffs, and he might only have one brain cell but we love him for it. At one point called a draft bust, Jake has been proving himself to be an elite player, and has been a steady winger for Krejci all season. Plus. He’s cute af. (Forward (winger), #74, 2nd Line)

- Is getting under other people’s skin one of your favorite activities? Do you like to piss people off by being better than them at everything? Does licking someone’s face in the middle of a hockey game seem like a Good Idea to you? Back in step number one did you chose Patrice Bergeron as your Lord and Savior? Then Boston’s favorite Pest - Brad Marchand - is the guy for you! Brad started off as an undersized fourth liner, and has worked his way up to one of the top scorers in the league. Outside of Boston he’s probably the most hated player in the NHL - earning himself a reputation for being a pest (at best), and sometimes being dirty (at worst). This year we are proud to announce that he did not get suspended once! Though he did come in just short of 100 Penalty Minutes. Marchy was our top scorer this year, and has become an integral part of this team. (Forward (winger), #63, 1st Line)

- Are you secretly an arsonist? Are frogs your favorite animal? Do you have a crush on that Pretty Jock that’s in all your classes and sometimes smiles at you in the lunch line? Then Danton Heinen is the weirdo for you. Danton has been a quietly steady performer for the Bruins this season, spending time on the top line with Bergeron and Marchand when Pasta was out. He’s growing into quite the play maker, and he’s known for making good decisions on the ice that lead to goals. Danton also happens to look like a frog, which is an important character trait imo. He’s a tumblr favorite, but he’s a good person to like even in real life, because he makes an impact on the ice. (Forward (winger), #43, 3rd Line)

Step 4: chose your conventionally attractive white boy

- OKay we’re not doing the questions thing because judging by your ask you may not even be interested in men so i’m just going to dive straight into the description. He’s tall with a strong jaw and perfect curls and pecs of a God. Charlie Coyle is a Weymouth, MA native who Boston brought back home at the trade deadline. He’s been a bit of a hero this playoff run, and he looks damn good doing it. The B’s have been searching for a good 3rd line center, and Charlie has filled the role perfectly. Personally, I am deeply in love with him, in case you could not tell. (Forward (center/winger), #13, 3rd Line)

- an integral member of the Bruin’s all important Line 1A (aka the 4th line), Sean Kuraly has got it all. Piercing blue eyes? Check. Perfectly highlighted hair? Check. Cute little chin? Double check. Though he’s been photographed wearing jorts and an open flannel shirt with nothing underneath it, Sean is still a certified Babe. He’s been Klutch in every playoff run he’s had with the B’s, and is the scoring force behind the 4th Line’s brawn. Not to mention, his signature celly is a leap from the ice! (Forward, (center/winger), #52, 4th Line)

- Brandon Carlo… how do I begin to explain Brandon Carlo? Brandon Carlo is flawless. He has two bible tattoos and a designer bulldog. I hear his hair is insured for $10,000. I hear he does Tri-City Americans commercials… in Washington. His favorite movie is Miracle. One time he met David Backes on a plane… and he told him he was pretty. One time he punched me in the face… it was awesome (’cause he missed). In all seriousness though, Monte is a hardworking, defensive defenseman, who has really shone this season. He doesn’t show up on the scoreboard often, but he makes it really hard for other teams to get goals. Even though he struggles to score empty netters... he’s still a babe. (Defense, #25, 2nd Pair)

Step 5: Chose your shorty

- If you’re thinking - wait, shouldn’t Marchand be in this category? Isn’t he the smallest guy in the World? Then Torey Krug is the Short King for you. An ELITE offensive defenseman, Torey is absolute dynamite on the ice. In game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals Torey made history by becoming the first Bruins player ever to record 4 points in a stanley cup finals game. Krug is quick on his feet and can snipe from the blue line, but isn’t afraid to lay down the law when he needs to. Notorious for loosing his helmet so he can show off that flow, Torey also has a bulldog named fenway and a BABY on the way. (Defense, #47, 2nd Pair).

- Is talk shit, get hit a favorite saying of yours? Can you appreciate biceps the size of your head? Then Noel Acciari is your man. He might be short but he’s built like a tank, and he uses that bod to plow through guys on the ice. Noeldozer is known for laying down the cleanest hits, and we love when he takes out the trash! The Rhode Island Native got married last summer, and has a golden retriever named Thor. His mouth is currently fucked right up but I promise he’s actually kinda pretty. (Forward (winger/center), #55, 4th Line)

- Are you one of the apparent hoards of people that think a Boston accent is sexy? Could you get into a guy who says the fuck word on live television? Are collarbone tattoos a thing you admire? Do you like sexy, tough little son’s of bitches? Great! Matt Grzelcyk is the little guy for you. A BU grad who’s become a cornerstone of the Bruins d-core, Grz is a tough little cutie who works hard and gets shit done. More of an offensive defenseman, Matty G has been there for the team even when all of our other defenseman were injured. His Dad has worked at the Gahden for like a million years, and playing for the B’s is a dream come true for Matt and his family. He got taken out in Game 2 of the Finals, and the Bruins are currently seeking revenge. Dude’s got a good beard going too. (Defense, #48, 3rd Pair)

Step 6: Pick your goalie

- As much as we love Jaro, there’s only one goalie you need to know about when you’re learning about the Bruins... 2 U’s 2 K’s 2 Points... Tuukka Rask! The clear MVP of the Playoffs this year, Tuukka has been a brick wall in the net for the B’s. He’s known for being quick tempered and a little... wild, at times, having been caught on camera beating the shit out of a bunch of milk crates and on time brandishing a skate blade at the refs like a knife. Though some fans seem to never forgive Tuukka for the B’s loosing the 2013 playoffs, around these parts we love and respect and rely on his prowess in the net. Off ice, he kinda looks like the grinch (and knows it), though apparently Bergy thinks he looks like Harry Styles (i wish i was kidding). He’s also got 2 adorable little girls! (GOALIE, starter)

So now you’ve got 6 guys that you know about, right? I would pick 1 or 2 of those to be the ones you pay attention to. Listen for headlines about their goals/play, if you’re watching games, look for their numbers on the ice. All you gotta do is be able to say “Wow did you see that Coyle goal on Saturday night?” and all of a sudden you sound like an expert! (This works even better of you choose a guy not from the first category). 

If you have more questions about specific players or lines, feel free to reach out! I know not a lot but I know many people who actually do know things lol

(Also to any of Bruins tumblr who made it this far, I KNOW i’m missing your faves okay. Wagner, Clifton, Nordy, MoJo, Moore, and half the providence roster deserve a spot on here. But I’ve already written too much)

(Also Also, special thanks to Lil for helping me with Monte’s description) 

[yeetingmyfeeling]

A Rose Tattoo

Chapter 3

Today was a busy day at the florist shop. Remus wasn’t too sure why, he thinks it was some political day but he didn’t really care, it was also a Saturday. He was just happy to be getting business and selling his flowers. 

Although, he did have one lady come back in after buying a small bouquet and claim her song was allergic to that specific flower. Remus had no idea what to do and just gave her the refund she was begging for.

“Remus, you should know how to handle that situation better,” Lily scolded him once it had quietened down. “She did not need that refund, I saw that kid shove those flowers in his face,”

“She was a Karen,” Mary laughed. “Our poor little Remus had no chance,”

“Remus can’t stand up to women,” Marlene added. “He’s too kind,”

“He’s gay, what do you expect?” Jake asked. “Gay’s are like you’s, just, with a penis,”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Marlene stated. “Like, at all,”

“I don’t even know if that was derogatory,” Lily said, confused.

“Uh..” Remus spoke up, “I can stand up too girls, I just didn’t stand up to that lady because she was scary. Also what even is a Karen?”

Mary grabbed the boy, hugging him to her chest. “Oh sweet, innocent Remus,” Remus just tried to pull himself away. 

“Look who’s coming across the street!” Marlene pointed.

Across the street, James Potter was stepping out of the tattoo parlour. Everyone shoved Lily to the counter and went to their separate areas. Mary was next to her, going through the notebook. Marlene was checking some plants in one corner, Jake in the other corner. Remus just went to make some tea.

They heard the jingle of a bell as James entered the shop. “Afternoon James, how may I help you?” Lily asked in a very forced friendly tone.

“I have a question,” Remus heard James say shyly. “Um, about flowers.”

“Well, I’m here to answer your inquiries,” Remus could hear Lily’s forced smile.

“What’s your favourite flower?” Mary aww’d. 

“Well,” Lily was clearly stumped. “I quite like Zinnia’s,”

“Oh,” James breathed. “I have never heard of those but um thanks for telling me I’ll be off now,”

A few seconds after that was said, Remus heard the bell from the door jingle then Mary squeal, so he assumed James had left. His four workers walked into the back room where he was, and grabbed their cups without even saying thank you. 

Remus rolled his eyes and sat down, sipping his tea and getting ready for boy talk.

“He is going to get you those flowers,” Marlene stated. “He has to.”

“He didn’t even know what they were,” Lily replied.

“I didn’t know they were a flower,” Mary added.

“I do,’ Remus rolled his eyes. “Do you not work here?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Whatever, it was still cute.”

“Whatever,” Lily shook her head. “He’s gotten me flowers before.”

“But he never asked you what your favourite one is,” Jake countered. 

“I suppose,”

They kept talking about James and Lily, and the wonderful baby they would make while Remus daydreamed.

The next moon was coming up in three days, he was anxious. His hip was also playing up. Thinking about his hip, he instinctively rubbed it. The place he stayed when it happens, is a shithole. It is a metal container, deep in the middle of the woods. It was heavily chained and locked. Sometimes, though, animals would come up to the outside of it and make comforting sounds, which always made the wolf happy.

God Remus hated being a werewolf. It didn’t even make any sense, he lived in a normal human world, not to alternate magic reality. The world just had to throw him in the deep end and curse him. 

He knows there are others.

He remembers getting bitten like it was yesterday. He remembers his father’s protection over him and his mothers worry. He remembers the face of the one who bit him.

Remus, zoning back in, decided to do so in Mary’s thirsting role.

“Do you think he could introduce me to that Sirius?”

~~~~~

It was the day of the moon, and Remus was exhausted. He had been working hard this month, so he really hoped that was the reason. He was standing at the counter in boredom, just sort of staring off into space. Marlene and Mary were with him today. Marlene was in the staff room, organising through things, and Mary was doing some plant check up, as she liked to call it anyway.

Remus heard the phone ring,  and went to go answer it but Marlene was already there. 

“Hello Lupins Lotus’, how can I help you?” Marlene greeted the customer. 

Remus was watching his friends face, and watched as her facial expression went from confused to excited in a second flat.

“Hold on one moment sir, let me put you on to our uh… orders manager person?” Marlene pressed the hold button on the phone. “Remus,” She whispered aggressively. “Get Mary, It’s Sirius!”

“The situation or the person?” Remus questioned, deadpanned. Marlene just glared at him. He grinned and called Mary over. Marlene quickly explained what was happening to Mary and the girl excitedly took the phone. 

“Thank you for waiting sir, I am the…” Mary looked at Marlene with concussion, “..Orders Manager. How can I help you?”

They waited a minute or so than Mary giggled. “So an order for Zinnia’s that is for James Potter, but Sirius Black will be picking them up?” Another giggle. “We will see you tomorrow, Sirius.”

Mary hung up the phone. She turned to her friends and squealed. “So, POtter put in an order. But it was Sirius and Sirius is coming to pick up the flowers for Potter that are obviously for Lily tomorrow!”

“Oh my god!” Marlene exclaimed.

“What?” Remus’ head hurt.

“Girl stuff,” Mary and Marlene said, waving their hands and started to whisper to each other. Remus just rolled his eyes and went back to the front counter.

~~~

Lily picked Remus up from the shop just before closing, letting the other two girls close up. She drove him to the woods.

“Potter put in an order for flowers, the Zannia’s,” Remus mumbled, head against the window. “Sirius was the one who called, he’s picking them up tomorrow.”

He was looking out the window. He watched as the shops and houses got thinner and thinner, until they were out of the town. The sky was cloudy, great day to rain he thought, but it was warm.

“Oh,” Was Lily’s response. “Do you need to be there?”

“No, Mary is the ‘Orders Manager’,” Remus said, emphasizing the ‘Orders Manager’. Lily snickered. “But you should probably be there, it is for you anyway.”

“You don’t know that,”

“It’s so obvious,”

“Yeah..”

“Are you going to do anything this time? Hit him up?”

Lily laughed. “We’ll see,”

They continued driving and started to enter the woodlands. Remus could smell the damp dirt, the flowers, and other animals. They drove down the uneven dirt road until they couldn’t drive any further.

They got out and began to walk further into the woods.

“How are you feeling Remus?”

“Sore, itchy,”

The walk continued in silence. Lily lead most of the way, Remus trailing behind taking in the scents of everything around him. Eventually they arrived in front of the large container.

Remus turned to Lily and she gave him a comforting smile. She quickly wrapped her arms around him.

“You’ll go alright Remus, love you,”

“Love you too,” He returned the hug then retreated into the shithole. 

He sat down on the creaky bed and heard the chains being tied up then Lily’s footsteps walking away. They told all their friends that Remus goes away for a day or two to see his parents. When asked about why it was on the full moon, Remus had to explain because that was the day he was attacked, it wasn’t, and being home on that day makes his parents comfortable.

Now they all joke about him being a werewolf or a vampire. 

Well, he is a werewolf.

Remus could hear some animals running to hide and some coming out. It was getting dark.

The itch became unbearable and he knew it was time. He quickly took off his clothes, setting them under the bed neatly.

He felt his bones and muscles pulling. He arched his back, letting out a yell of pain. It was going to be a bad night. 

[bubblyernie]

Person who knows a little about homestuck tries to explain homestuck kids

Dave: He is a cool guy and wears round sunglasses. He likes swords and swearing. probably. i dont know actually, he seems chill. doesnt...smile much??? he can play some PHAT BEATS on his uh turntable and can fight his older brother who also likes swords

rose: is she the one who has the curl or the one with the headband i think its the headband. she likes to knit. and is goth...she also has a scarf? ?? i think

jade: she is a furry who likes gardening. and long skirts wait does she have the teeth thing or

john: hes the main guy, uh,, colour is blue. he wears glasses and is allergic to peanuts. he can........?i dont know actually uh he has teeth drawn onto his character wait ..yeah okay nvm. his dad is dad and uh

dirk: dirk is also a cool guy and wears impractical shades. he likes hats and i think he has a tattoo but im not sure. he has a complex to draw hairstyle and his colour is orange. i hate orange but i like dirk hes cool

roxy: okay roxy is the drinking one i think she likes to drink. does she also have magic wands or needles or whatever?? i cant remember ugh

jane: jane is cute she has cyan colours and likes baking. oh WAIT I THINK okay i think her last name is jane crocker. she is related to...betty crocker but thats a villain idk why tho i havent gotten to that part i think. jane is short

jake: he's my fav but also i dont understand him enough like.. okay he likes skulls and guns. he wears collar shirts but unbuttoned ?/ i think hes..kinda punk? but idk? maybe grunge, i think he likes grungy things. does...does he have an english accent bc like, i believe he talks a little different from everyone else? but idk how. he looks a lot like john.

[faithis2beawake]

All for the vaguely NSFW asks 😈😈

1. Are looks important in a relationship?~ yeah i think so,,,like not in a shallow way, though, everyone has different versions of what they believe beauty to be. but i do think that being able to find that beauty in someone one is in a relationship with is important & a lot of that has to do with the person’s heart in my opinion. i’m overthinking this lmao but looks do have a lot to do with a person’s soul & values.

2. Are relationships ever worth it?~ in my experience, no. but i’ve had a lot of bad experiences so don’t listen to me.

3. Are you a virgin?~ no

4. Are you in a relationship?~ no

5. Are you in love?~ i don’t know

6. Are you single this year?~ ??? uhhh for the most part yes ?

7. Can you commit to one person?~ i can but i’d rather not

8. Describe your crush~ nah i’m good

9. Describe your perfect mate~ someone who respects me & genuinely cares about me. y’know. the bare minimum.

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?~ no

11. Do you ever want to get married?~ no

12. Do you forgive betrayal?~ not truly. i really try to but it’s always very hard for me to actually forgive the person & stop holding it against them. something i’m working on.

13. Do you get jealous easily?~ nah

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?~ i don’t know stop lol

15. Do you have any piercings?~ yes 3 on each earlobe

16. Do you have any tattoos?~ nah i wish

17. Do you like kissing in public?~ no not rlly

20. Do you shower every day?~ no my skin is too dry for that lmao but i do most days

21. Do you think someone has feelings for you?~ yes

22. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?~ possibly

23. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?~ yeah

24. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?~ no

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?~ no

26. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?~ yes

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?~ yes

28. Have you ever been cheated on?~ not that i know of

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?~ no

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?~ not really?? one of my eyes is kinda lazy but it’s growing on me

31. Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?~ oh loads of times

32. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?~ yes

33. Have you ever had sex with a man?~ no

34. Have you ever had sex with a woman?~ yes

35. Have you ever kissed someone older than you?~ yes

36. Have you ever liked one of your best friends?~ yes

37. Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?~ yes

38. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?~ absolutely

39. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?~ yes

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?~ yes lol very bad poetry but poetry nonetheless

41. Have you had sex so far this year?~ yes

42. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander?~ if i’m sure it’s consensual? not long at all. i’m a horny gremlin

43. How long was your longest relationship?~ 8 months uhhh yikes

44. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?~ i guess 5

45. How many people did you kiss in 2012/2013?~ how do you expect me to remember things ? ig i was like 13 so no one

46. How many times did you have sex last year?~ oh god so many times i lost count

47. How old are you?~ 21

48. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?~ go for it lmao

49. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her?~ i do not

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?~ yes but that wouldn’t happen

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?~ yes

52. Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Why?~ yes. they are terrible, abusive, selfish people.

53. Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?~ no

54. Is there someone you will never forget?~ plenty of people

55. Share a relationship story.~ we just finished seeing mamma mia 2 in theaters & i took them outside & kissed them in the rain. it was kinda magical.

56. State 8 facts about your body~ I have a patch of freckles on my left thigh, I have stretch marks on my ass & thighs, i have short fingernails, i have terrible joints, my skin is super soft bc i very much believe in moisturizing, i have love handles, i am somewhat muscular but nothing too impressive, & my hair is naturally super curly

57. Things you want to say to an ex~ did you ever really care? honestly? (super dramatic ik)

58. What are five ways to win your heart?~ remembering the really important things, remembering small details, words of encouragement/affirmation, touch me for the sake of touching me & being close to me, & uhhh just be intimate w me

59. What do you look like? (Post a picture!)~ u may see me in my icon

60. What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?~ just about a year

61. What is the first thing you notice in someone?~ their voice

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?~ not to be not-vaguely nsfw & a Bottom but tie me up & make me beg

63. What is your definition of “having sex”?~ all individuals being satisfied & content in their experienced pleasure

64. What is your definition of cheating?~ when one gets involved with another without the other person(s)’ knowing

65. What is your favourite foreplay routine?~ i can’t pick a favorite

66. What is your favourite roleplay?~ i’ve never actually tried roleplay!

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?~ going to see a play on a cold night then maybe hot chocolate, hand holding, & lots of things that provide warmth

68. What is your sexual orientation?~ lesbian ig

69. What turns you off?~ selfishness, arrogance, lack of compassion/empathy, lack of good hygiene

70. What turns you on?~ basically the opposites of my turn offs & some other stuff that one may find out if theyre lucky

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?~ i lucid dream a lot & believe me, u don’t wanna know

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?~ anything that displays that i’m doing a good job and the other person(s) is/are feeling good

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?~ hug me for gods sake

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?~ im a sucker for some brown eyes dude

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?~ myles set up a little date for us on animal crossing it was genuinely so kind

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?~ i don’t remember anything i ever do

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?~ as long as it involves consenting adults then idrc

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?~ why would i tell u

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?~ when my cat gave love to anyone other than me >:(

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?~ i told my brother just now

81. Who are five people you find attractive?~ nah im not gonna do that lmao

82. Who is the last person you hugged?~ mars !!!

83. Who was your first kiss with?~ a guy named jake in high school <3 he was cool

84. Why did your last relationship fail?~ a lot of reasons

85. Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?~ it depends

yeah i was either super vague or too descriptive apologies~~ im super touch starved rn lmao so im a mess whoops ~ thanks so much for the asks tho <33 xxx

[whenislunch]

undefined

This summer I saw my favorite artist perform live on an island off of Manhattan that used to serve as a jail/mental health institution.

When Frank Ocean came out with his screen grabbed text file posted as a “photo” on Tumblr in 2012, I knew the platform was something special - the one niche he could safely post something so revealing and vulnerable and still not open himself to the direct hate-filled or homophobic comments of any other forum. I had signed up for Tumblr the year prior. I joined with the fantasy of becoming a famous food blogger (and later as a nail artist) so I could quit my publicity job and score all of the PR perks that I so readily dished out to any 'mommy' with a touch of digital pretense.

Personal space on the vast internet was never my craving. I resisted being too present, and enjoyed the ability to control how much I “put myself out there” on facebook, twitter, and later Instagram. With my original two tumblrs, like Frank, I could focus on sharing and following the things I cared the most about: in early cases, it was fan art of Bill Murray, gifs of Daft Punk, and mostly photos of food I had eaten from the everyday life of a new New Yorker discovering the cult nature of the restaurant scene (a similar practice to my behavior as a teen taking shitty photos at punk shows in St Pete, Florida to pin on my bedroom wall). Tumblr became my collection of “curated cool," and nobody cared how hard I was trying or what I put up there, except for me, and it became my favorite place on the internet. Eventually, I realized all of the writers I was admiring on The Awl were including their Tumblrs in their bios, and I was there to follow them. I saw Rebecca Black become a meme before her one-hit would become a wedding band wonder. If sitting at the open kitchen counter at an edison bulb-lit restaurant was the closest you could get to a food industry version of “backstage”, then a Tumblr dashboard filled with all of the blogging generation of the “fake news media” was the analogy. It’s human nature to want to be seen and understood. Selfies perform better than friendies on Instagram - and GPOY’s on Tumblr… well I challenge anybody on music.ly to define the acronym without that peeking at the Childish Gambino Genius page first.

And that’s the tip of the iceberg for where I stand with Tumblr now. After three years of hanging out in the same field, they invited me to meet them at the dugout. After four months of interviewing and pitching challenges and pretending like I was at a digital optimization workshop, I was offered a job. After five years, or nearly, I’m ready for another one. I had the BEST time and the BEST TEAM working at Tumblr. Sentiment is incalculable, and being the Comms professionals that we are, we can swear to the moon that the effect of press results on a brand is unquantifiable when one piece can qualitatively alter the nature of the public’s perception versus the reality of a goal. And I had the the immeasurable luxury to be surrounded by the smartest, most creative, intensely productive, and to borrow a food world phrase - hardiest colleagues in the history of the internet.

My first day at Tumblr also belonged to six others - together we endured a questionable onboarding interaction and then were sent with laptops and branded hoodies to our respective seats at our superdesks on various floors. There were dogs everywhere. I was told that I’d be introduced to the company on Friday and to submit two truths and a lie to help them get to know me. Here they are:

I have photo credits in the New York Times and New York Magazine

I appeared as a backup dancer in a rap video in high school

I watercolor paintings of crustaceans as a hobby

Leave your guess in the comments (oh wait, it’s Tumblr, you can’t). 

Friday lunches were my lifeblood for a couple of months. Every week for at least seven thereafter unloaded a new set of amazing humans to be introduced in some absurd way by Sean from recruiting. I remember @sexpigeon vs Homer’s owner in game of pictionary, Johnny and Jake quickly competing for my heart as #1 engineer dudes, and of course, the instant classic game of Mark Coatney/ Marc Cote/ Marked Coat. Tumblr ramped up fast thanks to Lee, a fundraising series and at the tireless behest of my personal champion, Lindsey Dole.

Meanwhile, more magic was brewing in the cauldron. I heard @amandalynferri talking about some game she invented called Pretty Little Lasagna box, or I heard Maddie recalling the time she had her palm read in 14th street psychic's booth seeking refuge from a snowstorm, or @lexkap who sat on the other side of the building with a dog on her lap DM’d me on hip chat to show me her own nail art blog. Then a few of us won a chance to see a sneak preview of a new arthouse film by Harmony Korine and featuring an ensemble cast of former Disney talent that had been filmed in my hometown with a y2k airbrushed aesthetic - there was something innately emotional tied to each of us with this first viewing of Spring Breakers. When we left the midtown theater alongside the ATL Twins, I realized that this company had curated a community to match the intended behavior of its user base. We all connected on a level beyond any workplace I had experienced before.

And there was the professional side to the job - the work wins came quick because I was so lucky to sit under leaders who wanted the team to succeed. Rick Webb and Katherine encouraged me to dig in, and get deep with these shiny new toys called “evangelists” - Valentine, Nate, Liba, Annie, Max, Rachel, Jen, and briefly DCH. An enviable group of brilliant minds and creative energy who have all gone on to accomplish even more for their respective industries than a marketing budget at a start up could have enabled - and I had the pleasure to help share their Tumblr stories with the world - from a puppy bowl to annual southby's to groundbreaking art auctions to thirteen fucking fashion weeks to 35+ art and music shows (brrr)?

And then Tumblr got acquired and the Jenna Wortham turned the New York Times blue, and I got to do something I’m sure will never happen again in my entire career: I threw a party where the goody bag included a free tattoo, and multiple brave souls got them (Tyler, @bryanasortino, Megan & Johnny, among others).

And then Karen (aka #takingitallin aka @beautifulliving) joined, and me and Katherine gained a new teammate at the same time that I gained a new soul sister (and because of her self-described passion for advertising I never had to write an announcement about a new ad product ever again.) I’ve never been more challenged to succeed as I have over the three years I sat next to Karen - a generous and driven woman with endless dreams of supporting others (literally, ask her about the gap in the undergarment sector), who will always find a spot to squeeze me into a photobooth. Even at her wedding.

And lucky us, because then we invited @lilders into the #teamcomms fold and wow, wow, wow was life good. It was my honor working with Lily as she grew from FIT intern into somebody we should all aspire to work for someday.

Which leads to me to the poker faced improv master of all - Katherine. Allora @alittlespace! I am so lucky she believed that this girl who came into talk about a hypothetical strategy to get Eleven Madison Park on Tumblr and then pitched her a fantasy football launch party hosted by Nick Kroll and Mark Duplass could fit in and have the privilege to join the Tumblr Communications team. KB - I’ve already written you the dopiest thank you letter and shared my orchid growing miracle secrets - but it can’t be said enough - I am so grateful to have worked for you for all of these years. You are the best boss, and we will always be the #bestteam.

Because of Tumblr (and @david), I had the pleasure of working with so many additional incomparable people on projects outside of my designated Marketing Comms position, wearing more hats than we even produced for branded activation swag:

Designing and contenting for months with the relaunch of the precious Staff blog with David, Peter, Damien, Tag, Toph, among others

Setting the inaugural year in review with Danielle, Amanda, Christine loose (and then doing it again and again and again, with the wonderful team at DKC - especially that time we added a serving Kale to America’s breakfast.

Marathoning dozens of events with amazing producers like Julia, Suzanne and Magic - and encountering the native talent that thrives on Tumblr like Humans of New York, Chloe Wise, Sam Cannon, Johnny McLaughlin, Jillian Mercado, to a point where I can honestly say “I knew them when.”

Participating in the first ever Sales Offsite aka the greatest bar mitzvah ever thrown by Lee Brown, Dan Walsh and Sarah Won and the rest of the coolest sales team ever assembled (here’s to you @katemaxx, @jeffdtaylor, Meredith, Ari, Kira, and so many more)

Reaching back into my fashion bag of tricks and launching three different clothing lines.

Creating partnerships to show off super surprises at nerd parties at Comic Con and another breaking the internet for Art Basel

Interviewing the CEO of Shake Shack for the one-time-only live episode of “5 with a side of fries" in front of the whole company.

Urgently dealing with Legal, Ads, Trust and Safety on one of the definitive news story of a generation after nine months of back channeling and reporting.

DOING IT FOR THE CULTURE: Racing with the content and analytics teams for stats on the contentious day of #thedress, and then bling rings, witches, boneghazi, superwholockians, wholesome memes, studyblr, emojis, and of course, the toe thing! Thus redefining what it means to “go viral.”

Cleaned a ball pit for the dude from the 1975 to make a splash into them and trolled a legacy music publication

And wow - it took me this long to mention Post It Forward…I am so proud of everyone who helped make Tumblr the most empathetic community on the internet: Nicole Blumenfeld, Jeff D’Onofrio, @skiphursh “Dolphin", @dougrichard, Andy Sebela, Jess Frank, Sarah Won @swon, @pauwow, the brilliant and diligent Michelle Johnson. From building the blog, commissioning the art, recruiting and onboarding the partners, writing the endless number of give/gets, planning the sponsored posts and social content, running the day to day on the blog (and bequeathing that role to Lily), then doing it again with the Mental Health Quilt and IRL with the Post It Forward Summit - I’ve found my new track as a special projects person who can take on any issue, even suicidal teens. If this is my legacy, I’ve planted seeds in the garden I might never see. And special thanks to Victoria, who allowed me to speak at Obama’s White House about why kids need a place on the internet that can help heal - so long as they can find each other.

As it turns out, adults need that, too. From tailing Frank Ocean’s Ferrari to the most woke, mentally aware community and on to, thank god, a bonafide company to match - I will forever cherish my time at Tumblr and I’ll forever been asking #whenislunch. But from every tomorrow on, it will be somewhere else. And you can find me on the internet! 

Here’s my LinkedIn, I’m looking. 

[screaminginternallyalleternity]

jane headcanons (+ others, because this girls relationship to other people is important to me)

ben can turn into a beast. like an actual beast. but he has full control over it, and he never ever does it unless he thinks he's in a life-or-death situation. jane knows about it and doesn't tell anyone cuz its none of their business but it does lead to weird looks when jane gives him something humans can't eat/drink and everyones like wait a sec

because ben can change and by definition he is Not Human but everyone forgets that (they also forget janes fae a lot too)

jane and ben are actually really good friends because Introverts™ need to stick together.

bens really protective of her but he'll never admit it unless someone asks (brother/sister but no one else has context for it so they come across as two random people that know weird amounts about each other). Do Not Hurt Jane Where Ben Can See It.

janes kinda like sherlock holmes, running experiments and doing stuff that looks really bizarre without context (and she rarely gives it because people don't ask and having a reputation as a weirdo lets her get away with doing stuff other people would DEFINITELY get in trouble for) (ben lonnie doug and sometimes chad know what the context is. they let her do it, because the bafflement on peoples faces is always funny)

she and her mother have a relationship kinda like gina and holt on brooklyn nine-nine: ones more of an authority figure, but have a rock-solid friendship (this does cause trouble when jane needs her to be a parent) because parental authority doesn't quite stick after the fortieth year of a humans life and that authority doesn't stick around anywhere near as long for fae.

you're equals in physical power and there isn't a full chance one will outlive the other why deal with that?? fae run on a different morality than humans okay, parental authority isn't gonna be a thing that transgresses species. (also FG has been more on the neglectful side when it comes to raising jane (not fully her fault she's a busy lady) and as jane ages she's lost the desire to have FGs attention. they are friends tho

like "mom i need your permission to do this thing" 

"you've never asked my permission to do this thing before?? why now??"

"because if i screw it up i don't wanna be the only one blamed for it"

(jane and ben have had this conversation too btw)

if jane and FG are gina and holt then jane and chad are gina and jake: they've influenced each other since childhood (jane on chad more than the other way around) but most people don't know they known each other that long so when the two do something weirdly in sync everyone not in the know is just???

but they love each other but jane thinks chad a douche now and is going to be forever Not Impressed™ until he cuts it out

she knows where all the clubs and bars for fae are and she drinks there once or twice a month. she keeps getting into arguments with other magic peoples, mostly over magic theory. it never really escalates except in volume because turns out janes really easy to rile up when she's drunk?? jordan has to drag her away

everything jane knows about magic is almost entirely self taught. FG won't teach her but she can cajole info out of other faeries when she plays her cards right & jane totally knows where EVERY store in the city that sells magic shit is. every. single. one. she's a regular at all of them

really hates that when audrey left she was put in charge of cotillion planning?? she's an introvert whats she doing this for. its her own personal hell.

Queen of Odd Friendships. well not really Odd Friendships, its just that she gives off the air of someone without many (any) friends, so when it turns out she's low-key friends with half the fae community in Auradon City (and some in Cinderella's kingdom) its jarring. the girl ignored in Auradon Prep is on first name basis' with a five hundred year old gargoyle and a vampire? when did this happen everyone asks. fours years ago, jane answers with a straight face. janes telling the truth

top student (doesn't need to sleep). refuses to compete or even let people know that she's a high-achieving student because she knows her classmates will go nuts trying to figure how she's so good (she hasn't slept in months. she does homework to fill in the hours to dawn. you cant beat her)

doug knows this, doesn't even try to top her in class. its not "be the best in class" its "be the next person after jane to be best in class". he's dealing w it. other people aren't.

when she's grateful to people she kisses her fingertips and then presses them against the persons forehead. its super cute and always (ALWAYS) leaves the other person blushing to their ears because who expects that from her??

loves scary movies. watched silence of the lambs when she was like. nine. whenever she's rewatching it she laughs at the most inappropriate moments. laughed when the dinosaurs ate people in jurassic park

she speaks a bunch of languages with varying fluency including the native fae language (which she and her mother use solely whenever they're alone. keep that heritage up ladies). can read about a dozen more languages (magic books are old a lot of the time and you need to be able to read them properly otherwise you mess up)

is a good bit stronger than anyone knows. like. she could flick a person across a room if she's angry enough. can totally cave someones skull in if she's got enough adrenaline in her. doesn't like that about herself and tries to hide it. because faery

(but she and jay spar all the time when jaynelos are in the flirting stage/awkward trying to figure out emotions stage and have no-holds-barred fist fights. janes SUPER brutal when she fights even when she's holding back. one time she kicks jay in the head and he's all Heart Eyes™)

anyone who knows takes bets whenever/if-ever she gets attacked on just how trashed the other person is gonna be. anyone who doesn't is freaking out because jane looks like Jane. she's tiny. why are you so calm about someone trying to kill her. (get to her and the attacker is moaning in pain on the floor. not-knowers are ????)

brenna d'amico is a really good singer and so jane is too. one of the tie-in books says janes in the acapella group and is an alto. she can play guitar and piano. also did ballet when she was younger and hated it - was forced basically at knifepoint. you Don't want her to kick you.

she does pole-dancing now. less for the 'sexiness', more for the cardio. pole dancing is exhausting.

she and her mother have a deal: jane wears the light blue shit during school hours/days and at formal events. on weekends, jane gets to wear whatever she wants. leads to weird looks when people need to talk to her and she's dressed like someone else. she refuses to explain herself.

blushes whenever someone complements her because people don't complement her much. is even cuter when she does it. complementer is blushing too. she's cute. its a loop of blushes. (she deserves all the complements. come on guys. be nice to her)

sweaters and knitwear everywhere. all winter she can wear a sweater every day and never repeat and outfit (she makes them)

has tattoos. will never tell, and they're really little and she can hide them under her clothes, but she has them. she's got freckles on her back that have been joined into constellations and a couple runes on her skin for protection (she was visiting her dad in starlight valley and he held her hand when she got them done) she loves them.

also has blue freckles and pointed ears. if mal gets to have magic green eyes and purple hair then jane gets to have magic identifiers too. (she covers the freckles up w makeup tho, it weirds people out)

[hawthornewhisperer]

hope, faith, and deserted islands

It’s the lovely @kane-and-griffin‘s birthday so in honor of this glorious day, have a Kabby LOST AU where they are somehow both Jack Shephard.

Screams.  

That was the first thing Abby heard when she opened her eyes— screams and the sputtering of an engine.

Clarke.  Her heart jumped and then she remembered the empty seat next to her on the plane; the hurled recriminations as she walked out of Clarke’s small beachside bungalow outside of Sydney.  Clarke was safe, for now.

Abby sat up and gingerly tested her limbs.  Everything seemed to work properly and aside from a few scrapes and a long gash across her calf, she was in good condition.

The screams continued and Abby jumped up.  Chunks of fuselage littered the beach and other survivors were sprinting around fires and explosions, calling for help, for each other, for their mothers.

She snapped into action.

For two days— 46 hours, to be exact— they made do.  Rescue was coming and all they had to do was hold on.  And then the lawyer walked out of the jungle and informed them he had found the pilot, who lived just long enough to tell them they were a thousand miles off course before promptly dying.  “Help isn’t coming,” Marcus told the panicked survivors in what he clearly thought was an authoritative but comforting tone.  

Abby cut her eyes at him and added another log to the signal fire.  He might have given up hope, but Abby knew her daughter wouldn’t give up that easily.

Griffin women never did.

Four days after that Marcus discovered caves with a fresh water spring a mile off the beach and announced they were moving, and Abby had her first face-to-face argument with the self-appointed leader of the survivors.  They had worked together warily for the first week, with Abby treating people as best she could out of her lean-to on the beach and Marcus taking charge of rationing, but here they found their breaking point.

“No,” she said flatly when he came to inform her it was time to move.

“There’s no water out here— it’s illogical to stay this far from our source and we can’t keep counting on rain water.  You’re a doctor, you know that.”

“We move inland and we could miss a rescue boat,” she replied.  She turned to her makeshift shelf and counted the remaining bottles for something to do.  His gaze made her uncomfortable; it was too direct, too open and vulnerable despite all his attempts at burying his fears under a layer of authority.  Abby had a soft spot in her heart for lost lambs but she couldn’t afford room for Marcus just now, especially not when he wanted her to give up on her daughter.  “I’m not going.”

“If you stay, so will others,” Marcus countered.  “You’re putting lives at risk.”

Abby frowned and started reorganizing her dwindling supply of bandages.  If he were here Jake would gently tease her about needing to keep her hands busy, but he wasn’t.  He was gone and all she could think about was not leaving her daughter alone, even if Clarke hated her right now.  “I’m not making anyone do anything.  That’s your department, not mine.”

“People trust you.  If you—”

“If people trust me, that’s up to them,” she interrupted.  “You might have given up hope, but I haven’t.  And if they haven’t either, I’m not going to make them.  I’m staying.”

Something like doubt flashed in his eyes but then his face hardened.  “So be it,” he bit out, and turned on his heel.

They lost four people to the cave in. 

Four of forty remaining survivors, dead in one day.  Abby had run straight for the caves the moment she heard, Jake’s wedding ring bouncing against her sternum in a rapid tattoo that echoed her pounding heart.  Marcus, she thought first, before reminding herself she was concerned about everyone, not just him.  But she breathed a sigh of relief anyway when she skidded into the cave and saw him covered with dust, heaving rocks away from a pile.  He’d stripped off his shirt and was already soaked in sweat, but Abby had bigger concerns at the moment, so she tore her eyes away and went to see to Diana’s clearly dislocated shoulder.

She found him that night, sitting just outside the signal fire’s light and staring blankly at the bay.  There were empty mini-bottles on the sand next to him— not enough to get him drunk, but enough for her to know he’d tried.  “You were right,” he said miserably as she approached.  “The caves were a terrible idea.”

Abby sat down and dug her feet into the cool sand.  Above them the stars were closer than they’d ever been but that only served to heighten how unreal the past few weeks had been.  Abby’s life was air conditioned fluorescent hospital hallways and antiseptic, not dark tropical heat and rationed hydrogen peroxide.  But the perfume of the jungle had its own kind of magic and despite all her worries and fears, she wasn’t unhappy on the island.  She had been so alone before, ever since Jake died and Clarke walked out in a storm of anger.  Her life had slowly narrowed until it was just the hospital, and it was only now she was noticing it.  Only now, when she had someone to sit next to and watch the waves roll in.  

“You did what you thought was right,” she said carefully.  She absently reached for Jake’s wedding ring and slipped her index finger into it, feeling the metal’s worn curves.  It was comforting, but not in the way it used to be.  “Hauling water for everyone every day would be impractical.”

“People died, Abby.  People died because of me.”  

Abby had experience with that feeling.  It came with being a surgeon and it came with deciding to take your husband off a ventilator because there wasn’t any hope of recovery, no matter how much it broke your heart.  No matter if it cost you your daughter.  “You did what you thought was right,” she said again.  “Sometimes, that’s all you can do.  And this island— this isn’t forever, Marcus.”

It was the first time she had used his name since the castaways split between the beach and cave, and his chin lifted.  “You still think someone’s coming for us?”

Abby thought about Clarke and all that had passed between them in the last two years.  She thought about the pain and anger in her daughter’s eyes when she last saw her and swallowed against the lump in her throat.  You can’t be that angry with someone you don’t love, Jake’s voice reminded her.

“I do,” she said fiercely. “I know she is.”