#went to new orleans pride and had so much fucking fun

[thouartachoochootrain]

#your turn sissy😜 #me #selfie #went to new orleans pride and had so much fucking fun #made out with two guys from miami #got kicked out of OZ for hopping a fence #had a little group of queers fan me while i danced like the fucking sluttiest dancing queen #10/10 should have asked off the whole weekend

[oh-phineas]

Thursday, November 30 -- SWYNRP Character Wishlist: A list of 10+ characters you’d like to see in the RP (for you to play or someone else!)

Soooooo, to be honest, I still feel VERY strongly about the majority of my suggestions last year and I couldn't bear to not include them. But I didn't want to cheat by literally copy/pasting last year's task so you will find them at the end. Let's goooo!

Luz Noceda

So I haven't actually watched much of the Owl House (Like... 2 episodes maybe) and therefore I am not the person to bring this character, but I just thought Luz was so adorable and so relatable I mean she is a fangirl just like us!!! And she would fit in perfectly at Pride U her story is so easy to adapt to Swynlake. We have so many awesome TOH people and I just think we should have our protagonist!!

FC idea: I think it's been said before but cutest girly ever Madison Reyes

2. Koda and Kenai

I went through this phase (probably inspired by TLOU tbh) where I really loved the idea of like Koda and Kenai from Brother Bear as a duo that wound up together because they were both hitchhiking across the US (Koda looking for his mom, Kenai looking for someone to break his curse) and it turns out Kenai killed Koda's mom!!!! That would be crazy right? Maybe somehow they end up in Swynlake and run out of money and otherwise get stuck here, and eventually the truth comes out about Koda's mom.... listen I just love Brother Bear and I love found family and I love a sibling-type relationship where one of them is a little shithead because they're hiding how they're actually really hurt and the other is a grump it's always just so fun. Someone take this idea away from me please.

I don't have FC suggestions off the top of my head but I highly recommend talking to Mak, the FC wizard, if that is a concern!!!

3. Izzy Hawthorne

I just think the Swynlake Rangers have a lot of potential (especially if it's like in Lightyear where the group is kind of a joke lmao and maybe even one or two of them are actually just there for court mandated community service). I love an idealist and a disney protag type girly with big dreams and I just think she'd be so much fun!!

FC idea: Jasmine Savoy Brown

4. Mama Odie

I think Mama Odie could be a lot of fun. She's a character with a sense of humor in the movie, she enjoys being kind of cryptic and even though she helps people she always makes them work for it. And I just think it'd be interesting to have her around and kind of challenge Tiana's ideas about New Orleans and what it was like being a Mundus vs. a Magick living there. And maybe could incorporate some stuff about her dad and the RAS? Idk just a thought!!

5. Collette

Another selfish Tiana connection request lol but PLZ. Let's do French cooking vs Cajun cooking! Let's do fine dining versus mid level dining! Let's do THE BEAR AU!!!! YES CHEF THANK YOU CHEF!!!!

FC Idea: Greta Lee I mean COME ON!!!! Have you ever seen a more Collette FC in your life.

6. Joe Gardner

I am simply a sucker for a story about ~what it means to live a good life~. I like the idea that Joe gets to come back and he's so determined to be a famous musician and then he realizes what makes a good life is the friends he made along the way etc. I also just want more Soul characters lmao. I love u Joe <3

FC idea: Michael B Jordan yes sir plz come teach me about music I'm listening

7. Bonnie and Forky

Sorry I just think this is the craziest and funniest idea I ever had. Like we all know what it's like to be under pressure as a creative but what if you were under so much pressure that your demon friend's life depended your ability to produce??? I just think it could be a really fun satire on like hustle culture especially in the creative world and I also think Forky is a hilarious character and I need someone to bring this.

Bonnie: I think Haley Lu Richardson has the what-the-fuck-have-I-done energy lmaooo

Forky: Pete Davidson because it would be funny

8. YUBABA PLZ

I am once again asking for an evil sorcerer... And c'mon wouldn't it be fun to join the 50+ Ladies Who Slay club... Seriously I have plot ideas for you I'm not even kidding plus we could even get a Zeniba and do the whole rivalry thing it would be great just trust me

Again no FCs off the top of my head but happy to help you hunt

9. PJ from a Goofy Movie

I love a sweet gentle boy and so do you. Ngl the majority of this idea is simply my love of the character Cheese in Reservation Dogs the sweetest person ever plz watch the show if you haven't... but yeah please someone get PJ and use Lane Factor as the FC

10. Cruella De Vil

Come onnnn, join the hunters, you know you want to!!! Cruella is a truly heinous villain but she also is a villain who slays. She would be so fun like just imagine her rubbing shoulders with Gen or making deals with Smee! She brings her own fabulous flair to the shady world of poaching and I would like to see it.

FC idea: Taraji P Henson

IDEAS FROM LAST YEAR THAT I STILL STAND BY

The Potato Heads as a couple that adopts triplets and then discovers they are actually powerful Magicks!

Mr. Potato Head as David Harbour

Mrs. Potato Head as Jennifer Coolidge

Massimo from Luca as Matty Matheson, a hunter who just does it because it's the only way he knows how to support his family

Dr Facilier as Jacob Anderson but he's a misunderstood guy who just got driven away bc people didn't trust his magic

Missy Fritter as Lea DeLaria

Or Melanie Field for a younger casting!

Darren Barnet as Jackson Storm

Jacob Elordi as Hans sorry Laur

And now for some FCs I would like to see.......

D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai

Teyonah Paris

Will Sharpe

Hari Nef

Rachel Sennott

Melanie Lynskey

Megan Suri

Ncuti Gatwa

alright that's all i got, please get these characters!!!

#swynwrimoemma #swynwrimo2023 #WE DID IT!!!

[lemonmeringuecry]

The Cubs at Disneyland

Hi, so I've been trying to do this for awhile (ever since I drew Lo in a Mickey Mouse hoodie) but when the queen herself, miss Hazel, said she needs them to go to Disney... well I wrote this. And drew it. Because I'm me.

So anyway, here's the drawing and below is the fic

Tw for a couple mentions of food but I think that's it

Credit for everything @lumosinlove

Leo bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, goofy smile at full force while he waited to board the plane. He had grown up going to Disney World with his family. Living in Louisiana, Florida wasn’t too far away, and Eloise and Wyatt Knut didn’t let being adults stop them from enjoying the magic of Disney. When Leo was born, his parents were beyond excited about the prospect of going as a family, getting mickey ears, collecting pins, and making memories.

The first time he went, Leo was five, his favorite Disney movie was the lion king, and an expression of pure joy was permanent in his pale, blue eyes. Over the four days they were in the parks he got to go on rides, eat themed sweets, and meet his favorite characters.

After that first trip, Eloise started a scrap book. The book, titled ‘Disney World 2006’, was soon filled with pictures of Leo at the entrance gate, Leo with pineapple dole whip halfway to his mouth, and countless of all three of them taken by the photographers.

A favorite picture of Eloise’s was near the back, this one of her son with Simba. When Leo had spotted the cast member dressed as his favorite character, he all but threw himself at the lion costume clad employee. Leo’s mama had taken many pictures of the two lion cubs together and they were beyond adorable.

There are more scrap books from 2008, 2011, 2014, and 2017. Throughout the years of pictures Leo never looks less than ecstatic. Even though New Orleans will forever remain his favorite place in the world, Disney is a close second to home, which is why this trip with his boys is such a big deal for him.

The Lions are currently on a short break in the season after their game against the Coyotes and the cubs are going to spend a few days at Disneyland in Anaheim.

Finn reaches forward to grab Leo’s hand who is standing in line in front of him.

“Sunshine, are you excited?” He asks. Leo tilts his head around to look at his boyfriend and nods eagerly.

“We’ll take that as a yes,” logan chuckles sleepily from behind Finn where he is standing with his head resting on the red head’s back. Evidently waking up at 6:00 in the morning to drive to the airport wasn’t ideal for him.

Leo lets out a low, impatient groan, still bouncing, “I need to be there like right now. Can’t we get on the plane already?”.

“We haven’t even been waiting that long. I think they’re about to call our section though, Peanut,” Finn answers him, trying not to let his amusement show too much.

A crinkly noise cuts off Leo’s response, “Now boarding rows 1-10,” a voice says from over the loudspeaker. Leo stands up straighter and turns to his boyfriends, “that’s us!”

“I know Nutter-Butter, go on, let’s get you to Disney!” Finn says as he pats Leo’s butt lightly, moving him forward, onto the jet bridge.

The boys get settled into their seats, Finn by the window, Logan in the middle for maximum cuddles, and Leo on the aisle for the leg room. For the first half of the flight Logan sleeps while Finn and Leo share a movie, but all three boys are wide awake by the time the flight attendants come around with drinks for the second time. The rest of the flight is spent chatting about practices coming up after the break, things they need for the apartment, and what they are going to do first upon arriving.

Once getting off the plane in California, they take the shuttle from John Wayne Airport to the Disneyland hotels. They are staying in the Adventure Land tower, closest to the park. By this point all three boys are buzzing with the infectious happiness of Disney. After unpacking and getting settled into their hotel room, the cubs proceed with their plans of shopping and getting dinner in Downtown Disney. First thing on the agenda is to procure mouse ears. Logan, Finn, and Leo make their way to World of Disney in order to find the widest selection of ears. Leo has a collection of his own ears at home, including his favorite pride Minnie ears, but for this trip he wants to get new ones along with Logan and Finn. Leo and Finn decide on classic Mickey ear hats, while Logan picks out Minnie ears with a lavender bow. They all get sweatshirts too, as is custom.

After a pleasant evening of enjoying the atmosphere and getting dinner at Ralph Brennan’s Jazz Kitchen (Leo’s offense towards their attempt at Cajun cuisine is only partially a joke), they call it night. They head back to the hotel, brush their teeth, put on pajamas, and cuddle up in bed. After a busy day the three boys quickly fall asleep, full of anticipation for the day ahead.

Something you should know about Leo is that when it comes to Disney, he is hard core. Their first morning there is an early entry in Disneyland park.

“Rise and shine, party people!” Leo calls as he entera the main part of the hotel room from the bathroom. Logan and Finn are just now waking up, but they aren’t remotely tired. The pure excitement radiating off their boyfriend is contagious as well as the promise of a day of fun.

“Butter baby, how long have you been up?” Finn’s question is alarmed yet distinctly amused.

“Since 5:30,” Leo responds off-handedly. Logan and Finn share a look, then turn it on Leo. Undeterred, Leo spins slowly in a circle in order to show off his carefully constructed outfit. He is wearing his favorite light wash Levi’s, paired with the crewneck he bought yesterday (light gray with vintage looking Mickey & friends). Underneath his sweatshirt he is wearing his Pizza Planet t-shirt, ready for when it gets hot later. Leo’s outfit is accessorized with his new Mickey ear hat, white air Jordan 1’s, and his Tinker Bell lanyard filled with pins from over the years.

“These things take time! Now y’all go get dressed, we have to be in line by 6:45,” Leo says. With that both Finn and Logan get out of bed and into their clothes in record time. On their way out of the room, they pick up their ears and backpacks from the desk by the TV.

After a brief stop at the Starbucks in Downtown Disney, the boys make it into the que of people lining up at the entrance gate. Once 7:00 hits, the lines start to move into the park. As Logan, Finn, and Leo enter, they gaze around in awe. At the end of Mainstreet sits Sleeping Beauty’s castle, tall and glorious. They walk hand in hand down the lane of colorful, old fashioned buildings, chatting excitedly about what to do first.

“Alright babes, what’s up on the agenda?” Finn asks.

“I don’t even know the options, what do you say Le?” Logan continues.

They end up heading over to Tomorrow Land first. They go on Star Tours and Space Mountain while the lines are short, then bounce around Fantasy land as they make their way across the park. Around 8:30 all three boys start to get hungry so they grab a bag or two of beignets from New Orleans Square. After breakfast, they hit their favorites in Adventure land (Finn fucking loves Indiana Jones), Frontier Land (Big Thunder Mountain Railroad is a fan favorite), and New Orleans Square (Logan might not stop singing ‘Yo Ho a Pirate’s Life for Me’ for weeks).

Around noon the cubs exit Disneyland Park and walk across to California Adventure. After lunch at Wine Country Trattoria the boys bop around Cars Land, Hollywood Land, Pacific Warf and Grizzly Peak. The lines are a lot longer now that it’s afternoon, so they take it in stride and spend their waiting time talking, cuddling, and playing games. They end up going on almost every ride as well as hitting the extra good ones twice like Incredicoaster and Guardians of the Galaxy (still a fan-fucking-tastic ride but Leo misses the Twilight Zone theme).

By the time they finish up in California Adventure for the day, it’s almost time for Fantasmic, and Leo has yet to tell his boys that he got them reserved seats. The cubs meander back to Disneyland but when they start to near Frontier Land Finn picks up the pace.

“Sweetheart, what’s the hurry?” Leo asks with a knowing smile.

“I wanna get good seats for Fantasmic, I haven’t seen it since I was little!” Finn replies.

“Orgasmic? I like the sound of that,” Logan slides in with a smirk.

“Baby, no!” His boyfriends exclaim at the same time. Logan giggles which gets Leo and Finn laughing as well.

“And Finn, I got us seat reservations for the show so no need to rush,” Leo tells him. Finn’s response is to jump on Leo with a fierce hug and a drawn out “Yay,”.

The cubs enjoy the water show immensely, all snuggled up and bundled in sweatshirts once again to fend off the cool evening air. They point out little details to each other with intertwined hands and gasp aloud at the pretty fireworks. Once Fantasmic is over they do a few more rides, then head back to the hotel, sleepy after a full day. The boys fall asleep quickly again, ready to do it all again the next day.

#my art #writing #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #disneyland #coast to coast #sweater weather #harry potter fanart #lumosinlove fanart #fanart

[crime-scene-psychic]

Some of my personal TFW Supernatural headcanons that you can either choose to accept or die

Sam Winchester headcanons:

Sam definitely watched Quantum Leap as a kid. Dean made fun of him because he said the show was nerdy (even though he secretly kinda enjoyed it). Now that they live in the bunker, Dean bought Sam the box set so he can watch it whenever he wants. He has now rewatched the show eleven times. (Sam ships Al and Sam).

 Sam was vegetarian while dating Jess because she was and had convinced Sam to go veg as well. Sam still tries to be vegetarian, but it’s hard while on the road.

Sam was religious growing up because Dean had given him a golden cross necklace that belonged to Mary. Sam keeps it in his secret box.

Speaking of Sam’s secret box, some of the things in the box are movie ticket stubs from dates with Jess, the program from his graduations (which Dean was the only one to attend both), a worn bible he “stole”, both of his diplomas (high school and Bachelors), Mary’s necklace, Polaroids of friends from college, a postcard from that time Jess went to France over the summer (it’s filled with X’s and O’s), a copy of Great Expectations that he had purchased in a used book store when he first arrived in California (it’s very worn and Sam has underlined a lot of passages), one of John’s many Marine medals, the beer cap of his first beer, and finally, a selfie that he and Dean had taken a while ago that Dean didn’t remember, but Sam definitely did. An engagement ring is also in there. It was meant for Jess. Sam was going to propose after acing his law school interview. The day never came to put it on her finger.

Sam considers going back to school sometimes, but isn’t sure it would be for law. He sometimes wonders if Classics would be a good major for him to pick up.

Sam knows Dean would support him going to college at Kansas State, he just is afraid to leave Dean and hunting again.

Sam excessively drinks Respect Wahmen juice.

Sam’s waaay too into politics and forced Dean to go voting (even though he just picks the ones Sam does).

Sam watches Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime religiously and is a Shaniac because Shane reminds him of Dean. He watches Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural when he needs a good laugh. It reminds him of the Ghostfacers.

Sam’s favorite food is mac and cheese with marshmallow fluff to this day.

Sam is a lightweight.

Sam’s favorite color is plaid. 

Sam still doesn’t know a damn thing about cars.

Sam was in a feminist organization while at Stanford.

Sam is proud of being a Midwestern and always retweets those Midwest memes because they are nice and accurate.

Sam doesn’t like to swear, but will when angry, which always takes Dean by surprise. Sam refuses to say “fuck”.

Sam is a bit head over heels for the archangel Gabriel.

But, Sam also loved Eileen Leahy.

Sam Winchester is queer.

Sam likes dogs so much because once when he was three he got separated from Dean in a park and was crying until a police dog came up to him and licked his tears away. The dog barked to notify that Sam was lost and he was found. He now would trust a dog with his life.

That purple dog shirt? His favorite. He didn’t get rid of it, it’s just at the bottom of his duffle waiting for the right time. 

Sam is not a fan of the Hot Dogga.

Sam kissed a boy in high school. 

Sam is into Marvel. He loves Bucky Barnes with all his heart.

Sam is more of a English and History kinda guy.

Trans guy Sam is a good headcanon, let me tell you.

Dean Winchester headcanons:

Dean isn’t sexist, stop that.

Dean is actually smarter than anyone gives him credit for. He dumbs himself down to lessen people’s expectations (especially while in school) and to shine light on how smart Sam is.

Dean is a fan of the Hot Dogga.

Okay, Dean isn’t that into Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime, but he likes Supernatural and Ryan because Ryan is a little like Sam (at least to Dean he is).

Dean is an amazing cook.

Dean has actually considered going to community college. 

Dean taught himself how to fix cars.

Dean is really good at math and science. 

Dean dropped out of high school to get a full time job to support Sam.

Dean is more DC than Marvel to the horror of Sam.

Dean doesn’t like pets. At. All.

Yeah, Dean’s into that kinky shit ngl.

Dean’s favorite show is NCIS: New Orleans.

Dean read once. It was awful.

He doesn’t really understand social media, but Sam set him up a Twitter and he kinda just bullshits his way through it. He somehow has over a thousand followers.

He can hold his liquor.

Dean is really good at dancing.

Dean hates sour candy.

Dean used to gamble pool when Sam was a kid so he could afford to buy Sam new clothes and books since all Sam got was hand-me-downs all the time. Sam suspected it was Dean’s doing, but Dea always denied it.

Dean doesn’t mind herbal tea, but he prefers black coffee mostly for the aesthetic. 

Dean collects beer caps in a Mason jar in his room at the bunker.

Dean’s favorite color is black (like his soul).

Dean had an emo phase. It lasted only two months and in those two months Sam roasted the shit out of him.

Dean is a really good singer. He sings Sam back to sleep when he has nightmares. 

Castiel headcanons:

He’s really into John Wayne movies because of Dean. He unironically says “yeehaw”.

He and Sam bond over the belief that all dogs are good.

He has indeed confirmed that all dogs go to heaven and so do cats.

Castiel hates when people write his name as “Cass” because there is only one “s” dammit.

Cas touched Dean’s butt once on accident but now it’s on purpose.

Cas watched porn once. It was alright, he guesses.

He still doesn’t trust snakes on account of the whole Garden of Eden thing.

No cops at pride, just Castiel smiting douchebags.

Sometimes Cas visits Sam’s heaven and talks to Jessica, telling her that Sam will be up soon to see her. She has chocolate chip cookies prepared.

Yes, he and Dean are dating, before you ask.

Castiel can make some mean scrambled eggs. He doesn’t even get the eggshells in anymore.

Cas uses too many emojis while texting. This annoys Dean and amuses Sam.

Cas feeds stray animals when they show up at the bunker.

Castiel misses Charlie a lot. He visits her heaven when he can.

Cas has a pet goldfish in his room. His name is Daryl.

Speaking of which, yes, Cas has his own room even though angels don’t need to sleep. It was Dean’s idea. He wanted Cas to have his own space whenever he needed it. He also wanted Cas to know that he is a part of the family.

Castiel was given a camera from Dean for Christmas and now takes as many pictures as possible. Sam takes him into town to develop them.

Cas is asexual.

Castiel wishes PB&J’s didn’t taste like molecules to him now.

Cas is 100% responsible for finding a bunch of hidden rooms in the bunker. Sam and Cas now have four different forts hidden away from Dean. They go there to read.

#supernatural #supernatural memes #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural headcanon #tfw #Team Free Will

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

-’Falling’ by Harry Styles

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

I’ve seen and read a lot of fanfictions where it’s told from the POV of one character and that inspired me to write this but... it’s not happy... much... and Harry Styles’ song just also inspired me to write out this fairly sad piece because that song is such a tearjerker man..

I like to this of this as an inside look of the witch's mind and thoughts as well as her opening up about her issues.

WARNING: This small piece contains mentions and/or references to suicide and intrusive thoughts. Reader discretion is advised.

Interestingly... I've come to realize that Amy's behavior makes sense if you know what Borderline Personality Disorder is and what the symptoms are. Many of which she actually checks out for. I study a lot of psychology in my spare time and to my surprise, Amy ended up showing some symptoms even though I swear to God it wasn’t my intention, it just kinda... ended up like that.

For more info or insight on BPD: 

https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/comic-perfectly-shows-jealousy-looks-232343129.html

https://psychcentral.com/lib/loving-someone-with-borderline-personality-disorder/

Amy’s POV:

Apparently most children get their quirks at the age as early as 3 or 4, but when I was 4 years old I didn’t get mine. 5, 6,7,8,9, still nothing. That was it, I guess that just meant I was going to be quirkless forever, on the bright side at least I would be part of a minority that I could one day fight for I thought. If I’m gonna be quirkless I would own it. That’s what I told myself.

But then one day when I was 9 years old I woke up over my bed, floating around my room until my mom came in to make sure I came down safely. She told me everything, how her side of the family has a bloodline of witches that dates all the way back in the 1800’s and one of my great great great grandmothers or something had the same genetic affliction. Just like that everything became different, when I thought it was awesome at first, started to learn just what I am and who I am, and the history of all the great witches of the past. Slowly but surely I discovered more powers about myself, more powers I would one day learn.

Everything was brilliant… until the following year my parents were killed by witch hunters. Dad wasn’t even a witch, he was just an ally, he loved my mom and I more than anything, and they killed him for that. Worst part? When the heroes got to me before I could get barbecued, they didn’t even kill them.

I suppose that’s where it all begins though, after that they decided I wasn’t going to be safe enough here and that my new powers that were manifesting would be too much for them to handle. And because they didn’t want to deal with me, they called on the other witches on the other side of the world. From then on out, I had to leave my old life behind, my best friend and his family who treated me like family. I went from orphaned, to abandoned, to a bloodbath. 

As soon as I got to New Orleans everything else was just as unsafe. Asshole frat boys, an actual Minotaur man, fucking zombies, voodoo witches and of course MORE witch hunters trying to kill us. And also an immortal racist, a Frankenstein Frat boy, a tongueless butler who has tea parties and sex with dead teenage girls, a wicked voodoo deity and an old, axe-wielding serial killer that was once a ghost in Robichaux. Yup. But that’s just a perfectly average day at Robichaux, and a perfectly average day in my fucked up life.

At least I had my sisters like Zoe, Madison and Misty, and Ms. Cordelia and how can I forget Ms. Myrtle? That woman needs to be a fashion icon and I will do justice by her and make sure the world knows who she was. And even Ms. Fiona. The bitch who used to be in charge was pretty badass, I mean if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be the strong, independent witch bitch I am today. Yeah I have a ton of issues because of the borderline emotional abuse she dished out on me and the other witches but still...

My new sisters were by far the least terrible part of the entire thing. Which is why it still breaks my heart to think about how some of them died, because not all of them came back... 

Through all of that I kept myself up though. I learned how to fight back and fight alongside my sisters. I learned how to be strong, how to rely on myself and my sisters because we knew that no hero was going to come to our rescue. I had to be strong, I had to have thick skin and an elastic heart. Yeah that’s right I referenced Sia, she’s an awesome singer, just like Stevie Nicks. Amazing women, inspiring...

Sorry, getting off-topic. Anyhoo, I’ve realized though that it’s better that way. Being with the witches showed me the truth of the world, how the world looks at us and how it wants us to look. We have to be perfect, we have to be charming, we have to smile and look pretty. Why? Because the heroes have to be there to save the cute and pretty damsel in distress so they can feel powerful. 

This idea of heroes and villains is really all just bullshit... all of these villains I’ve seen thus far... they’re kittens compared to the evils and horrors I’ve seen here. It’s not just New Orleans, but I mean Bloody Face was a monster back in the 50′s, then the man who made the Hotel Cortez, he was pure evil and still haunts that hotel to this day. James Patrick March. Evil. Pure Evil and he murdered just to feel something, innocent people who didn’t deserve it. Dr. Arthur Arden, a.k.a Hans Gruper, the Nazi doctor who hid under a disguise and performed horrifying experiments on humans in the insane asylum of Briarcliff. Instead of helping those poor people, he just murdered, butchered and tortured them for his sick experiments. So many lives ruined, mutilated. The victim’s last moments were nothing but pain and a desperate wish for death until he put a bullet through their heads.

Murders, monsters, all of them. They all murdered for fun, and then even normal people were evil, the ones who valued their pride and selfish desires over anything and destroyed innocence itself just to achieve that. 

Those are the real evil people. All For One? Overhaul? Shigaraki? They couldn’t slice a loaf of bread with the amount of sharpness they had all put together. 

Those ‘villains’ that All-Might and my friend Midoriya have fought thus far are nothing compared to the monsters I’ve seen. They’re all a bunch of kitty cats, but I’ve seen and known killers. Real killers. Real monsters. 

A woman from an old asylum once said that ‘all monsters are human’ and she was right, because the monsters I’ve seen were humans. The worst of humanity and I've seen it all. What heroes choose to ignore though is that it's in all of us, and that those who choose not to do shitty things is what makes a hero apoarently. What a crock of shit...

But I guess monsters are just another thing that the heroes like to glamorize so they can fight and save the world from what they deem as the real monsters of the world. When I showed that I wasn’t a sweet and gentle girl as he believed, Midoriya looked at me like I was a monster, which just proved to me that he’s a part of what I’m fighting, and that that’s what this society wants, a good little girl who does good things all for the sake of this society. And I’m a monster because I’m not a good little girl, my sisters aren’t good little girls, no, we’re not a bunch of sad girls who are just waiting to be rescued, we’re witches. We’re not giving those motherfuckers the satisfaction of saving the poor damsels in distress because we’re not, we’re powerful and we don’t owe them anything, not a thanks, not a hug, not a flash of our tits and especially not a goddamn smile that men just love to see on women. 

Men like that are afraid of women like us, they’re afraid of women who aren’t afraid to get ugly and dirty our hands with blood. Afraid of women like me. And I learned how to fight, I was able to keep myself flying, because that was my first power, flight. I can fly based on how I feel, or on how much willpower I put into it. My power comes from my emotions and no fucking misogynist can tell me my emotions make me weak because I can do anything I want based on how I feel and how much willpower I have.

Lately though, it’s been nothing but willpower, as the older I get the more I realized that I’m not loved in this place. I wouldn’t be missed if I disappeared and I know it. I know it. But in life young people like me have to keep going even though we’re also gifted with the power of being painfully aware of all the bullshit that adults try to tell us is the truth, but we know better than that, they just don’t get that we’re not as stupid as we look. Although the sad part is, some of us ARE and they buy into the bullshit and try so hard to be the perfect little shitheads these assholes want us to be.

I can’t do that though, that’s not me. I wish it was sometimes though, who knows, maybe if I was that kind of person then maybe I would be liked by everyone, but that’s not me. Maybe that’s why I won’t be missed, maybe that’s why I’m forcing myself to fly every damn day just to make it through. Forcing myself to pretend that everything’s fine and smiling like a fucking idiot just to make everyone happy and not let them be miserable as me, but this shit’s hard, it’s hard to act like you’re okay when you’re not.

And I’m too aware of this shit, too aware to be truly ignorant and I call people out if I think they sound ignorant. So I’m not surprised when they end up leaving me or trying to tell me to be nicer and that I shouldn’t be blaming anybody or anything just because I’m a cynical and miserable bitch. Yeah, I’m a bitch but I can’t help it. At least I know my shit, I’d rather be a miserable bitch than an ignorant one.

Yet here I am, constantly miserable, constantly thinking and constantly aware that I’m nobody’s favorite person.

That’s just it. I’m not surprised by anything, because everything I do, everything I say, there’s always something bad behind it, that’s the idea I give everyone. I know it, it shouldn’t bother me but apparently, I can’t bring myself to fly because I’m happy, because I’m not. And then there’s always something that shows up in my life, something to make me feel some type of way, not a good way though. I can’t help the way I react to some things, I wish I could though, a normal person would be able to just go out and live life the way everyone else does. But I’m not normal. I never was. And every single day I’m reminded of it, every single day I remind myself it.

Every time I fly it’s through willpower alone, not because I’m so excited that my feelings can make me fly. No, lately I haven’t been able to feel a goddamn thing, and ironically that’s what hurts the most.

For someone who’s first gift was flight and for someone who’s powers allow them to fly, I’m just… falling. 

Constantly, every time I fly, I just feel like I’m falling as the weight of this world just keeps beating me down until one day I eventually hit rock bottom.  I don’t expect anyone to catch me, not even my loved ones. I feel like I’ve hurt them enough. Everyone I love, I end up hurting in some way because I’m just a jealous, overzealous, toxic and cynical bitch. I don’t deserve them and they don't deserve this. All this poison, all this anger and problems, I don't want that for them.

So I don’t tell them that I’m falling when I’m flying. If I’m gonna fall, I’m not going to drag them down with me.

Rock bottom almost doesn’t sound like a bad idea at this point. There are times where I get so frustrated with everything, so angry and so pissed off that I need to get away from everything and everybody and I let myself fly upwards. I just fly as high as possible, so high that I’m in the clouds and I can no longer see the rest of the world beneath me. 

God... sometimes I get so high that I just want to stay up there. I want to stay feeling so high and so powerful like nothing can stop me. I’m invincible when I’m up so high. And yet that honestly terrifies me too, because when I’m up so high I forget everything, even the things and the people I don’t want to forget. How could I ever want to forgive some of the people I love the most? 

When I remember them, that’s when I regain my vision and I start to see how high I’ve gotten, and how far it is to go back down. Everyone can see me and they can see how far I’ve gone, even up that high I can still see their disappointed faces and that just no longer makes me feel so invincible anymore. Because then I start to think ‘here I am’ up on top and yet I’m all alone up here. 

Sometimes when I’m up that high is when I start to think about just letting go of the willpower and letting myself fall from such a distance, close my eyes and just let everything go. Let the gravity just bring me back down until I hit the ground.

 And then I wonder, would that matter at all? Would it be better that way?

But as usual, I can never think of a fucking answer… other than that I should probably just go back home because I have people waiting for me. Ashlen, Hitoshi, Katsuki, Madison... I hope they're not too worried about me... I know they want to see me come home even though I’m the last person I want around, and I honestly don’t know how they want me around. 

Yet I guess it’s enough to make myself fly a little more, just to go back to them, because in the end I feel a little bit of something when I’m with them. They’ve moved my wicked heart, even when I think I’m better off dead, they make me fly. 

I don’t know if I saved myself, or if it’s them who saved me, because frankly it’s too late to save me, but I’m still here. I’m still here so I can go home and see them.

God... I haven’t been home for a while, but I’m on my way back home, I know they’re waiting for me, probably worried about me too.

Ash, Toshi, Katsu, Mads... You guys don’t have to worry, I’m coming home now. After all, I wouldn’t miss seeing your smiles for the world. 

#amy martinez #american horror story #american horror story coven #ahs coven #ahs coven oc #ahs coven original character #american horror story oc #american horror story coven original character #american horror story original character #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha oc #mha oc #boku no hero academia original character #my hero academia original character #witches #sad #feminism #happy International women's day #mental health #ahs asylum #American horror story asylum

[embarrassingsmartphonegame]

Last Night (Explicit) - Nik Ryder x MC (Leah Mendoza)

Summary: “After last night I…I thought I meant something to you.” They have been breaking down each other’s walls and are a team, and they wait one night before meeting with the Fae.

Tagging: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @indiacater @aneutronstarcollision @ethan-jonah-ramsey @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @wildflowersandmessyhair

Author’s Note: Hi, this is a repost of the same fic and I deleted the original post. What happened is that when I reblogged/tried to edit it I accidentally deleted the text of the entire story and I honestly have no idea how to fix it besides reposting it. I tagged all the people who originally asked to be tagged plus anyone who reblogged it, in case anyone was wondering where it went. I’m still new to this whole fanfic scene on tumblr. Sorry about that! Also, warnings still apply that this fic depicts explicit sexual acts and it’s not for children.

They had barely made it out alive. Leah and Nik returned to Nik’s apartment with the agreement that they would all re-group in the morning to venture to Lamrian, Lord Elric’s realm. Nik cast a temporary ward over his loft so they would be safe for the night, but the ward wouldn’t keep them safe forever. Leah sighed and hung up that hideous pink dress, wearing only a white silk slip that stopped just above her knee. Donning that heavy dress to avoid the ire of the ghosts on the ship felt poetic to her; playing by the rules of the supernatural made her watch more closely where she was stepping as if she could trip over a long skirt at any time, and the gravity of her situation weighed heavy on her mind like the weight of the puffy layers. But unlike the dress, she couldn’t just take her situation off her body and hang it up for the night. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and her skin raw from scrubbing away the undead swamp and murder of the very witch who sent a killer creature after her. She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself in a tight hug. Her entire life suddenly became so complicated. 

As she waited for Nik to get out of the shower, her mind began to wander in flashbacks of her time in New Orleans and they inevitably focused on him: him teaching her how to fight in the alleyway and pinning her against the wall, his temple resting against hers as they pretended to be married and danced in Persephone, his lips brushing against hers softly as they sat on the edge of the bayou and again each time he bared his pain to her. She flirted with him at first for fun; he was hot and brooding and she was definitely interested physically. But the more time they spent together and the more they shared with each other, she began to yearn for more.

“I think I’m in love with someone here.”

In hindsight, Leah knew she shouldn’t have said that. But it was that secret that was eating away at her when she sat on the cold ground in her underwear, well aware of Nik’s eyes on her. She felt a rush of embarrassment in her cheeks as she remembered his searching gaze as the breath left her mouth, sound waves reverberating through the dilapidated room. Her cheeks flushed further when she recalled her knocking on his door that night and them together in a fit of passion only to be halted by the cold winds of fate (literally). She would have cursed at the Fate if the Fate wouldn’t hear her.

Leah heard a click as the door to Nik’s bathroom opened and the man in question stepped out, his dark hair damp and draped over his forehead, hiding seemingly permanent lines of worry. He was wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, and Leah stared before she could stop herself.

“Rook?” His unusually quiet baritone reached her ears, and she was brought back to reality. When her eyes met his, she shook herself out of her trance and unwrapped her arms from her torso.

“Sorry, was just thinking...about tomorrow,” she supplied a quick excuse. It wasn’t too far from the truth; she thought about it seemingly non-stop on the way home after Nik mentioned it. She didn’t know what to expect from meeting with the Fae, but she told Nik on the way home that she trusted his judgment and could have sworn emotion flashed through his face before he quickly composed himself. Nik nodded and began to walk out of the room. Leah reached out and put her hand on his bare shoulder to stop him; usually he would have supplied a snarky, flirtatious comment in response to her staring. He was more open with her since the bayou, but he could barely look at her at that moment.

“Nik? Is something wrong?”

“Just going to sleep. I’ll take the couch tonight,” Nik answered, his face in the same neutral expression.

“We can share your bed...you act like we haven’t slept in the same bed before,” Leah chuckled slightly, trying to make light of the situation and ignore the memories of the previous night and slight dampness between her legs as a result.

Nik muttered unintelligibly, and Leah raised an eyebrow and moved closer. “Come again?”

Finally, he looked at her properly, and her mouth went dry at the strange mixture of tenderness and lust on his face. His eyes skimmed up and down her body intensely, and he licked his lips while a slight blush dusted his tan complexion. “Leah...”

“Yes?” Leah’s flirtatious side emerged, and she decided then and there that she would let it flourish. She placed her palms over his taut chest, and her fingers danced subtly over his skin. Nik growled softly, and she knew that his self-restraint was wavering as he leaned into her touch. Leah stepped closer until her pelvis met his, and she smirked as she felt his cock twitch against her. 

“Leah...” The way Nik said her name again implied that he had more to say, but Leah did not want words at the time. All she wanted was him, all of him. She trailed her lips down his neck as her hands roamed over the webs of scars that marred his toned torso, and eventually they settled near the tent in his sweatpants. His breath hitched as her hands floated over his concealed arousal, just close enough to sense but not close enough for them. “What are you doing?”

“You.” 

Nik tried to stifle a grin; he both hated and loved her sense of humor. “Yes I can see that, rook. Trust me, no complaints there. But why now?”

“I think the real question is: why not now?” Leah countered, staring up at him with the perfect mixture of innocence and sin. “A bloodwraith is trying to kill me, Nik. I know it’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen, but it also reminds me that life’s too short.”

When she rose to her tip toes and kissed his neck again, she suddenly felt his rough hands grab her forearms and pull her to his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. Leah kissed him back with the same fervor, the white silk nightgown riding up slightly as she moved her hips with his. Nik growled softly and his hands began to travel up her thighs and over her hips. The kiss was reminiscent of what they started the previous night after meeting with the Fate, but this felt more urgent and as if there was no tomorrow. Hell, there might not be a tomorrow for her.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Nik whispered as their lips separated, holding her tightly and protectively by the waist underneath her silk slip. “And that’s not because it’s my job.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Leah rubbed his back with hands recently calloused from wielding weapons and werewolves. What really made Nik the one for her was the knowledge that while he would always protect her, she didn’t feel like a damsel in distress. He had pride written on his face when she expressed an interest in learning how to fight, and she held her own to help him in multiple situations. As someone who had been underestimated all her life due to her gender and size, this type of respect meant the world. “I trust you.”

“And I would never willingly hurt you.” He wrangled the guilt creeping up his chest as he gazed down on her now serene face, knowing that tomorrow she would inevitably be angry and hurt because of him; still he hoped his hunch was correct.

“I know that. I still want this with you.” Leah thought that his last statement was oddly placed but didn’t think much of it. She nipped at his jawline, silently urging Nik to let go and allow himself this pleasure. “Like you said, we’re a team, right? No matter what happens, I will always want you.”

At that, Nik finally let go and gave into what they both wanted. He kissed her again, tenderly and reflecting his rapidly growing feelings for her. She kissed him back and sighed contentedly; she would admit that she became weak whenever he showed vulnerability, and this paired with his hands pulling her slip over her head to expose all of her skin made her positively soaked.

Leah moaned as Nik’s hands traveled to her breasts, massaging her nipples until they stood on end. His tongue made its way down her neck and to her right breast while his hand kept massaging the other one, and he felt a deep sense of accomplishment at the sounds that he was coaxing out of her. While his mouth moved to the other breast, his fingers prodded her most private area. He pulled his hand away for a moment to marvel at how soaked she was for him, and in one swift motion he swung her around and threw her onto his bed, his lust going into overdrive. Leah yelped in surprise at the sudden movement.

Nik climbed on to the bed with her and kissed and nipped down her body one more time. “Spread your legs for me.”

Leah obeyed, and he began to leave small purple bruises on her inner thighs. She moaned loudly as his tongue glided over her labia and straight to the hood of her clit, which he began circulating with that damn talented tongue of his. 

“Fuck...” She cursed, but felt blessed as his tongue took her to heaven and hell and back. He took her clit in his lips with a powerful suck, and it took her all of her willpower not to scream out in ecstasy. She moaned loudly as he continued licking and sucking, unraveling her slowly and surely. After a few more minutes of him pleasuring her, Leah sat up and kissed him fiercely, her hands tugging his rock hard erection out of his sweatpants. Nik groaned as she bent down and took him into her mouth and he hit the back of her throat.

“Goddamn, rook,” He tangled his fingers in her chocolate brown waves as she bobbed her head up and down. Her tongue lapped precum off the tip and danced all the way down to the base and back up. Her mouth was divine, but he detached himself from her mouth and laid her down on the bed. “Are you sure you still wanna do this?”

“Hell yes…” she consented in a breathy tone. Nik swung her legs over his shoulders and prepared to enter her until suddenly she stopped him with a hand to his chest. Leah stood up while muttering something about getting carried away and took a row of condoms from her purse. Nik raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. “What? I came to New Orleans to party and hook up with hot people. Didn’t exactly party the way I thought I would, but the second one...” She threw one at him with a wink and he caught it, chuckling. As reckless as she could be half the time, Leah had her moments where she surprised him with her practicality. 

Once the condom was securely fastened, Nik gently laid her down on her back and positioned one of her legs over his shoulder. Maintaining eye contact, he held her close and slowly slid into her as she moaned and clung to him. Once Leah nodded, Nik began to thrust into her slowly at first and then faster and faster. Nik sucked on her collarbone as she dug her nails into his back, and sweat glistened on both of their faces and moans and profanities were sent out liberally. Leah was utterly in heaven as his hand reached down to rub her clit aggressively while he continued rapidly thrusting into her. 

“Nik, please…” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. He grunted and kissed her as he maintained the pace of his thrusts. Leah pushed on his chest and he folded, laying down on his back while she straddled him and lower herself on him slowly and deeper than ever. Soon she was bouncing on his cock while he thrust upwards on a steady, rapid rhythm. They moved together perfectly in sync in the same way they moved together as a team on the battlefield. Each thrust sent stars into her line of vision, and she came quickly with a burst of light in her head. Leah struggled to hold herself up as Nik gripped her hips and continued to chase his own release, and he came soon after. She collapsed on top of him and pressed her lips against his tenderly. The two took a few minutes to discard the condom and wash up before settling into his bed, both with completely satisfied looks on their faces. They continued to kiss each other softly as tiredness crept into their bodies, no words needed.

“Hey I just thought of something,” Leah eventually said sleepily, snuggling into his chest. “Since I did...ya know...I can now call myself a Nik RIDER!”

Nik groaned and shook his head as she laughed at her own joke. This woman will never change, not even after a serious conversation and sex. “Hand to god, Leah, if you did that just so you could make that joke—“

“And then I can take that further and call myself a d—“ Leah was cut off with a quick kiss, his hand cupping the side of her face gently. Nik kept shaking his head with a semi-amused grin; this woman will never change but he wouldn’t want her to anyway.

Leah eventually drifted off to sleep, feeling at peace for the first time since she stepped foot in New Orleans. The bloodwraith was still after her and everything about the supernatural world was confusing, but at that moment she could trust someone and forget. Being with Nik made her feel secure and that they could actually win. While she slept, Nik stared down at her head resting on his chest with sorrow smeared on his face, knowing that the next morning’s events may very well make her hate him forever. There was a silent mutual trust between them and the thought of breaking that broke his heart, but he told himself that it was all in the name of protecting her. All that mattered was that she was safe. But for now, as he closed his eyes, he would enjoy having her in his arms.

#nightbound #nik x mc #nik ryder #choices #playchoices #choices: stories you play #n*fw #n*fw text #phoebe writes choices #nightbound nik #pixelberry #anyway i'm not gonna touch this anymore and i hope it works

[holylangdon]

It Takes Time (Cordelia Goode x Daughter!Reader x Michael Langdon)

Request: “Cordelia x female! Reader. But like not in a romantic relationship just like a mother daughter relationship. Like Cordelia helps the reader move on from Michael and find peace and love in the coven and become a badass girl without the need of a man. I need that p l e a s e.” - Anon

“A Cordelia one-shot could be where the witch reader is in a relationship with Michael (she is bi), but then she finds out he is cheating on her and that breaks her heart. Cordelia has a crush on the reader and is there to help the reader recover. Slowly, they become closer and the reader heart begins to mend as she realize Cordelia was always the one. If you want to write this or change it up.” - Anon

Warnings: Mother!Cordelia/Daughter!Reader, ex-fiance!Michael, pre-Apocalypse but post-coven, cheating, slight plothole (Myrtle is alive when she shouldn’t be), a bit fluffy but also sad

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: These two requests went together so well... But also not at all...

Michael Langdon had always been faithful. The two of you had been together for two years before he finally admitted to you that he no longer was. You’d came home from work to find him sitting on the couch with a bottle of water clutched between his hands. He wore a nervous expression on his face. No, not nervousness. It was guilt. His eyes were red from the stress and his cheeks stained with dry tears. The boy’s blonde hair was a mess, tangled and knotted because he had pulled at it. Michael was a mess.

“We need to talk.”

He told you about the mistake he had made. Your fiancé carefully explained the damage that he had done, the hell that you were suddenly in. All it took for him to break his promise to you was one little kiss before he fell down the rabbit hole, giving in to his lust for some other woman. 

The words hauntingly echoed through your head, even now as you cried into your mother’s arms. He told you about the mistake he had made. He carefully explained what he had done, the damage he had done. You sat and listened to his tale before simply packing your suitcase and catching the next flight to New Orleans, and then a cab from the airport to the Academy. You weren’t sad until you laid eyes on your mom’s overjoyed expression, happy to see her baby girl again. 

But her happiness quickly faded as you uttered out the simple words. “Michael cheated on me.” 

Cordelia called for Zoe, asking her to take your bags. And then, you just absolutely crumbled into her arms. It all hit you at once. The tears flowed from both of you as she cradled you on the hot sidewalk, talking to you gently. An extremely confused and worried Zoe Benson stood behind her and auntie Myrtle was sure to show up any moment.

Somehow, over the course of the next few minutes, your mother was able to get you inside and away from the prying eyes of the students she harbored, comfortably resting inside her bedroom. They were simply curious what could have the supreme’s daughter in a state like this, and you knew that, but you couldn’t have them seeing you like this. Not in such a vulnerable position. That would cause trouble for not only you but your mother too, you were sure of it. 

Your mother sat with you on the soft bed, listening to your retelling of the previous events. She listened to every little word so intently, trying to keep her anger from showing. But Delia failed. You could see the pink flush over her face, the way her top lip curled in disgust when you said his name. The way her dingers drummed against the bed and how her body was now hot. 

She wanted to rip his fucking throat out. 

Cordelia knew Michael was bad news from the first time you brought him home. She told Myrtle about her feelings and the redhead assured her it wouldn't last, which, admittedly, was terrible but brought her a certain peace of mind. Imagine her surprise when you brought him back to her Academy for a fun weekend trip to the Quarter, only for the blond man to ask for her blessing. She pushed her own reservations away and allowed him to propose to you. She wanted you to be happy more than anything, and if he was the man you wanted to be with... Well, she’d swallow her own pride and allow it.

When the two of you came home the next night to reveal that he had asked you to marry him, everyone was so happy. Everyone except for Myrtle and your mother, that is. Both of the women feigned excitement over the issue because truly, the only thing both of them wanted was for their baby to live a good life. Myrtle held onto the grudge quietly as the two of you went back to Los Angeles, waiting for the storm.

And now that it was here... Well, can’t say she didn’t predict it.

But she didn’t hold it in your face or hang it over your head. She now sat beside you, across from Delia, on the bed, leaning over you with her arms wrapped around you and your mother both. She talked you through the sorrow softly.

Later, once you had composed yourself, you went down to dinner with your family and the students. Each pair of young eyes couldn’t help but land on you as everyone ate and asked questions about you. Cordelia Goode’s only daughter was a bit of a legend around the Academy. You had grown up there but left as soon as you were old enough to be appointed a council member. You served in New Orleans for a while, but ultimately moved to Los Angeles to deal with the coven’s business affairs there. Thats’s where you met Michael.

You really didn’t even remember how the two of you met. Maybe through mutual friends, or just in town. But you were sure of one thing; The second you laid eyes on him, you were head over heels in love with him, and him the same with you. Or, apparently not.

“So, how’s your boyfriend?” One of the teenage girls asked. The question stung. You knew it was simply childlike curiousity and innocence, but it still hurt. “Michael?”

“He’s good.” You quietly muttered, holding your emotions back. Your aunt shot the girl a certain dirty look, which you gave her a stern glance for. he girl nodded and gave you a quick ‘that’s good’ in recognition.

The rest of the dinner was fine. Small talk was made, and questions about Los Angeles and your life and whatnot were answered. No one said another word about Michael, much to your pleasure. You were certainly surprised he wasn’t a popular topic. It’s no secret that the boy is, or was, very attractive, and that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by a majority of the students. They were on their best behavior when he was around, just hoping to catch his attention. That was one thing the grown ups were happy about, at least. They absolutely treasured the silence and lack of petty arguments between the teenagers.

That night, you laid in the comfortable bed in your old bedroom. Your mom kept it around for when you visited, and right now, you were quite happy that she did. You let your mind wander freely as you laid in the dark room, the white walls only illuminated by the moonlight that poured through the window. A hesitant knock on the door broke you free of them.

“Dear?” Myrtle whispered, poking her head through the door. “May I come in?”

You nodded, sitting up to make room for her. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment before speaking. “Has he tried to call?”

You shook your head. “I told him not to while I’m down here. I don’t want to be crying every five minutes, and I know hearing his voice...”

“You’ll want to take him back.” Her warm hand laid on your lap overtop of the blankets. “Have you thought about that?”

“Not much.” A small frown or smile crossed her lips, you couldn’t tell which one. You laughed sourly. “I know you don’t like him, auntie. It’s okay, you don’t have to hide it anymore. I heard you and mom talking when we got engaged... Looks like both of you were right.”

“Darling... I’m not exactly fond of him, yes. But I want you to be happy. You’re a young butterfly who deserves all of the great things in your life. And if you want to be with Michael, if you somehow still love him? I’ll support it. And give your mother some time to... Air out her grievances. She’ll come to her senses eventually and realize the same thing.” You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to the older woman’s words. “We love you, Y/N. More than you could ever imagine.”

You almost felt like a little girl again as she stood up, placing a small kiss to your forehead. She repeated her “I love you” one more time before leaving, gently closing the door behind her.

But now, you were alone with your thoughts again. Completely and utterly unsure of what to do with the situation at hand. You laid back down and became comfortable underneath the covers. You found yourself praying that a good night of sleep would somehow magically help with your worries and doubts. And who knows? Maybe you were right.

#cordelia goode #cordelia Goode imagine #cordelia goode one shot #cordelia goode fanfiction #Sarah paulson #sarah paulson fanfiction #sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson one shot #american horror story #american horror story fanfiction #american horror story one shot #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs one shot #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven

[thegoods]

THE FRENCH QUARTER

I can literally drink anywhere except for church. *In my finest nawlins accent* “I’m home bebb-beh” Lol The trip I took to New Orleans, Louisiana was everything I knew I needed. From my first plane ride, the bomb ass Airbnb, the company, the street art, the hospitality and Jesus the food-- I felt so alive! Yes I lost my airplane virginity to New Orleans and I’ll keep going back for more! I loved every bit of the flight experience. The take off startled me but I fell in love with the clouds. Flying makes me feel so appreciative and blessed. Oh and those biscoff cookies were bomb! A few hours and a layover later Me & 2 good friends were ready for all that NOLA had to offer us.  All thanks to our “planner committee” we hit up all the local spots to make sure we got the full taste of the Bayou. My favorite, my diet breaker... MORROWS! Y’all a huge shout out to Larry Morrow. He knew what the fuck was up with this one! The attention to detail, the menu, the customer service, the location, and when I tell you EVERY staff member was attractive! (blew my mind) Our modern, minimalistic loft was right above his restaurant and every morning we were awaken by his staff prepping for the day while simultaneously blasting Anita Baker (which was no bother to us) it was our Vacation alarm clock. #morrowofthestory is... WHEN you visit NOLA Morrows is a MUST STOP. Ask any celebrity! Oh and order the strawberry mimosa(S) and the chicken Alfredo good lord! Next stop... Cafe Du Monde for BENGINETS. There’s literally like 4 things on the Menu: Water, Tea, Chalk coffee (best coffee I’ve ever had) and Benginets. Relatively cheap for Nola but it’s always packed night or day! For good reason, yet another well worth it diet breaker. Another honorable mention is Willie Mae's Scotch House-- make sure you get the mac and cheese and yams. Depending on when you go, there can be a line outside of the small restaurant and the wait can be up to 2 hours! The 3 of us opted to take an uber everywhere and split the costs however. Of course depending on where you decide to store your luggage that may or may not be necessary but ubers were relative cheap as well even late night trips to bourbon street. THAT LITERALLY NEVER SLEEPS. Heads up! — LADIES DO NOT WEAR HEELS, Hell some sandals should be off limits too. Bourbon street is NOT the place for heels or uncomfortable shoes. Between the police horse shit, the for sure vomit, potential piss and spilled.. I mean wasted alcohol lol your shoes just won’t make it and neither will you. However if you wanna be a baby giraffe who am I to stop ya? I literally wore Vans the entire trip and had the time of my life. We spent every night of our 4 day trip on Bourbon street and each night was better that the night before. Thousands of people from all walks of life happily bonding over alcohol just warmed my heart. Did I mention we went during decadence? Which is basically pride for men only. We had no idea it was the same weekend we went but it was so much fun. The drags, the harnesses, the energy, the butt naked confidence again warmed my heart. All the clubs on Bourbon St were diverse and played top 40. Oh and before I forget— when you’ve had too many hurricanes from Fat Tuesday or one too many Grenades (trust me you will) the ultimate 3 am un-fuck yourself pre-hangover cure is Willie’s Chicken-- Also found on Bourbon Street. We didn’t take the trolley like we planned because we were so busy getting day drunk in our Airbnb that we always missed the pickups but we heard good things about it lol. We did make it to the French Market which is full of vendors selling clothes, trinkets, food, ALCOHOL, touristy things, you name it. Make sure you bring cash money though— a lot of the vendors don’t accept debit/credit. Do yourself a favor and get roasted street corn and a pina colada from Organic Banana to wash it down because who drinks water in NOLA!?! Did I mention that there are full blown liquor stores inside of WALMART? Besides shopping you can literally just walk around, mingle with the locals, and sight see for the free. Just about every corner is photo worthy. The Street performers are mad talented so make sure you tip them! I'm sure I’m leaving things out but no matter what I say it won’t do New Orleans any justice. It’s a place you have to visit and experience for yourself. There was not one place I went that I felt uncomfortable or stuck out like a sore thumb. When I tell you Nola’s vibe is so welcoming I mean it. You’re only doing yourself a disservice by not adding it to your vacation bucket list. I bet you can’t go just once.

#neworleans #travelblog #travel #morrows #bourbonstreet #nola #cafedumonde #benginets #judgethisblog #shadeteacoffee #frenchquarter #frenchmarket #morrowofthestory #fattuesday #mardigras #decadance

[lieutenantcupcake]

End of the year thing, you know the drill...

1. What did you do in 2018 that you’d never done before? Drove from OH to TX and back. Went to Florida. Was actually in a Pride parade.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I didn’t really have any. This year all I got is get in better shape.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? No?

4. Did anyone close to you die? My grandmother. She was my last grandparent and the one I was closest to and lemme tell you, it really fucking sucked.

5. What countries did you visit? None

6. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? Again, the ability to truly not give a fuck. Maybe some confidence.

7. What date from 2018 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? When my grandmother died. I was at an Alex Cameron show in Columbus when my mom called.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Baby’s first New York credit? Running my own shop at a professional theater company this summer? Becoming a regular at my favorite town bar?

9. What was your biggest failure? Not getting in touch with my grandmother sooner, before she kind of lost the ability to carry on much of a phone conversation. I just didn’t want to cry on the phone with her every single time, but in retrospect, maybe that would have been okay.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I got sun poisoning in FL. What a moron.

11. What was the best thing you bought? A car, fucking finally.

14. Where did most of your money go? Rent

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Road trip with Bianca!

16. What song will always remind you of 2018? Runnin’ Outta Luck--Alex Cameron

Compared to this time last year, are you:

17. Thinner or fatter? Fatter.

18. Richer or poorer? Maybe slightly richer?

19. What do you wish you’d done more of? Enjoying the moment.

20. What do you wish you’d done less of? Overthinking

21. How will you be spending Christmas? I was at home. It was weird.

22. Did you fall in love in 2018? Maybe a little bit.

23.  What was your best costume of the year? Blodreina for Halloween

24. What was your favorite TV program? The 100

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Oh probably.

26. What was the best book you read? I had lofty goals to read this summer and I read about 20 pages of Blackwater and then never picked up another book.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Alex Cameron

28. What did you want and get? To go to New Orleans!!!!

29. What did you want and not get? Someone to hold hands with

30. What was your favorite film of this year? Maybe Blindspotting? I didn’t see a ton of movies this year.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 31 and I went on a Columbus shopping trip with Bianca and then upon our return was surprised by Joanna, Madie, and Jacob with a cake and fancy cocktails and it was really really nice.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? The faculty not being difficult?????

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? Lazy punk

34. What kept you sane? My fucking amazing friends

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Chris Evans and Ryan Gosling because I’m basic

36. What political issue stirred you the most? Everything all the time. The midterms?

37. Who did you miss? My home friends when I was in OH, my OH friends when I was elsewhere

38. Who was the best new person you met? Jacob and Heather. Jacob is wonderful and was an amazing roommate and I can’t believe I thought about not living with him. Heather is beautiful and fun and I can’t wait to get into more shit with her in the next year and a half.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

This is why events unnerve me They find it all, a different story Notice whom for wheels are turning Turn again and turn towards this time All she asks is the strength to hold me Then again the same old story World will travel, oh so quickly Travel first and lean towards this time

#end of the year #survey

[she-walked-away]

The twins + Hope going full Parent Trap after they meet at Caroline's School For Gifted Youngsters.

Okay, so this drabble is semi-canonish, and I know this won’t be many people’s cup of tea since it involves the magical babies. This is how the future of Klaroline is looking (ONLY ON THE SHOW) but I did have fun writing this drabble. It’s kind of cracky, but I’d been asked a couple times to write this scenario so I hope you guys like it :)

Enjoy!

It took Caroline only three months toregret admitting Hope Mikaelson as a student at the School for the Young andGifted.

She blamed Klaus.

It was nothing against the 8 yearold girl. Hope was one of the most talented students the school had everencountered, and that was including Caroline’s own magical daughters. She wassweet, thoughtful, and always eager to learn from her teachers. But ever sincethe arrival of Hope, Caroline’s life turned upside down in so many differentways.

First of all, she was up to herelbows in Mikaelsons.

Freya joined the school as an teacherfor three classes a week. Lizzie struggled the most with controlling herpowers, so she soon grew closest to the oldest Mikaelson witch, much toCaroline’s surprise and exasperation Rebekah was constantly sending Carolinelinks of school uniforms and how her niece desperately needed a wardrobeupgrade. She didn’t know how she was supposed to handle that, and would alwaysforward those messages to Hayley. Kol popped in every few months to check onhis ‘favorite niece’ and crack jokes about when the twins would become Hope’ssisters.

Josie overheard one time and was nothappy when Caroline shot that idea down.

After that, Kol was no longer allowed onschool grounds without supervision.

Josie and Lizzie immediately tookto Hope when she visited the School for the Young and Gifted in the MysticFalls chapter that Alaric headed up. Their bedroom in New Orleans, where theyspent the majority part of the school year, was littered with artwork down bythe youngest Mikaelson who had inherited her father’s artistic talent. Josiewas constantly begging Caroline to allow Hope to be their third roommate.

Caroline prided herself on beingable to compartmentalize her life. When she was working at the school, she wasfocused, driven. When she left work, her nights were spent with the girlsunless they were with Alaric for that time of the year, and then she stayed onthe couch, stuffing her face with beignets.

But of course, Klaus found his wayto weasel his way back into her thoughts.

Annoyingly enough, Klaus was one ofthose parents. He sent daily emails withsuggestions for the school (Caroline regretted including him in the parentsuggestion email chain), sent random checks once a month whenever there was aminor incident (Lizzie felt so bad about setting the sink on fire and whenKlaus saw he cry, he bought the twin a new bathroom practically), asked about fieldtrip chaperones, and made himself impossible to ignore.

As annoying as the daily emails werefrom Klaus, Caroline secretly loved them. Whenever he not so subtly mentionedparent teacher conferences, or how he wanted to fund a PTA, she found herselfamused and stuck grinning like an idiot at her computer more often than not.

He was not at all coy in reminding herthat his affections remain unchanged throughout the years. After Klaus and Hopevisited the school in Mystic Falls for the first time, Caroline found a fewsketches of her and the twins on her armoire in her house along with arectangle shaped black velvet box that contained the infinity bracelet that shethrew back in his face nearly ten years with a simple “thank you” note.

When she didn’t respond, he sent a 3million dollar check and letter.

Clearly, it was obvious that she neededto thank him in person. She took the twins with her because they were beggingto see Hope again after the first visit, and they all fell in love with NewOrleans. So, one year later, they opened the newest branch for the School forthe Young and Gifted and it had been booming ever since.

Her daughters loved Klaus, and it droveCaroline nuts.

He’d show up every once in awhile tovisit Hope during lunch time, taking great pleasure in the Caroline’sannoyance. The twins always talked about “Mr. Klaus” and the all thefun places that Hope would tell them about, or whatever new present he sent herin the mail.

Alaric was extremely concerned when thetwins befriended the young witch, but Caroline defended the friendship,pointing out that the girls were always going to be a lot safer in the magicalschool with an overprotective hybrid’s child than with any other school.

Klaus’ minions never quite left theschool, and Caroline started charging him rent for them much to his amusement.

However, it didn’t help that wheneverHope asked a question, she’d raise her eyebrows and press her lips together,giving Caroline an extremely uncanny familiar expression that reminded her ofthe girl’s father. She didn’t look much like Klaus, but her expressions were eerilyjust like him, and she was frustratingly perceptive when it came to Klaus andCaroline’s quasi-friendship.

“Ms. Forbes?”

Caroline looked up from her desk,offering the little red head a gentle smile. “Hey, Hope. How was your weekend?”

The school followed a boarding schoolpattern, but there were weekends where the students could go home if theywished. Since Hope’s family lived in New Orleans, she usually went home at leasttwice a month.

“It was good,” the eight year old smiledas she leaned up against Caroline’s office door. “My dad and I painted most ofthe time and I showed him the sage privacy spell that Aunt Freya taught us lastweek.”

Caroline’s eye twitched at the mentionof Klaus, but her smile never faltered. “I bet he was very pleased with yourprogress.”

Hope nodded, her grin widening. “He saidto thank you again for letting me come to school and sent you a present again.”

Caroline sighed good-naturedly and held outher hand. Hope smirked, handing over a paper bag. The blonde pulled out a shinyred apple and shook her head with a exasperated smile. Every time Hope wenthome for the weekend, Klaus would always send something back.

The first time, it was a pair of readingglasses, then a pack of pencils. There was always a school theme to them. Onetime he sent a ruler for disciplinary reasons and when Caroline sent him anemail about how paddling was no longer used in schools and shouldn’t he getwith the times?, he responded that he didn’t intend for her to use it on thestudents ;).

Caroline couldn’t answer his emails fora week without blushing.

And thiswas the kind of shit she had to deal with from him.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Someday he’sgoing to run out of presents to give.”

The young Mikaelson smiled. “Hesays he’s got a lot more up his sleeve.”

“I bet he does,” she mutteredunder her breath. “Tell him thank you for me.”

“Or you could just email it tohim,” Hope suggested with an innocent smile.

“How do you know about those?”Caroline asked, looking at her curiously.

Hope shrugged and looked away. “Can Iask you a question?”

She wrinkled her brow in concern andmotioned for the little girl come in and shut the door behind her. “Of course.”

Hope clambered into the seat in front ofCaroline’s desk and clasped her fingers in front of her, giving the woman acontemplative look. The blonde had to bite back a giggle at how familiar thatexpression looked. Sometimes she was a real Klaus mini-me.

“How do you know my dad exactly?”

Caroline startled, dropping the pen shewas holding on her desk. Hope arched a brow in response, quirking the corner ofher mouth up into Klaus’ signature smirk.

“I-uh, I knew him from when I was inhigh school,” she managed to get out, flashing her a pageant smile.

“Were you guys friends?”

“Uh- kind of, yeah,” she shrugged.

Tried to kill each other,flirted, threatened, fucked each other’s brains out, same thing.

Caroline coughed at that reminder,squirming uncomfortably. “Why do you ask?”

The redhead shrugged. “My dad said youwere-” Of course he did, Caroline thought with a tiny smile, “-but hedoesn’t really have many friends outside the family. Aunt Bekah says it becausehe can’t play well with others.”

Caroline chuckled warmly. “Yeah, hestruggles with that.”

“And I found an old sketchbook on Fridayand I think he was drawing you when you were friends,” she said mildly, fixating a curious look on the adult.

Caroline heart thudded as she chucklednervously, trying to remain unaffected. “Really?”

“When I asked him about it, he just tookit away and I got in trouble for snooping,” Hope said exhaustively. “I was justlooking for paper.”

Caroline pressed her lips together andoffered her a modest smile, shrugging wordlessly.

“Well, don’t tell him I told you, butMom told me that he had a huge crush on you a long time ago,” Hope continuedon, taking in her reaction closely.

Caroline’s widened and she blinked. Shedidn’t know whether to burst out laughing or cover her face in embarrassment.If only Hope knew the whole story.

“Oh?” she said lightly.

“Yeah,” the girl shrugged. “Mom stillthinks he does, but you can’t tell him that I told you!”

Caroline had to laugh at that, filingaway that thought for a later minor freak out moment. “I won’t. What broughtthis on?”

Hope’s expression turned wistful and shelooked down at her hands before shrugging again. “I don’t know. He seemslonely, and I want him to be happy.”

Caroline’s heart ached and she bit herlip, softening at her kind heart. “He’s not lonely, Hope. He has you.”

Hope looked up, giving her anunimpressed look.

“I know it seems like he is, but I sawhim when he was lonely,” Caroline explained. “And he’s nowhere near thatanymore. He’s happier.”

Hope brightened at that before hoppingoff her chair and reaching over to give the blonde a hug.

“Thanks Ms. Forbes.”

“Call me Caroline whenever we’re havingone of these talks,” Caroline laughed, pushing a piece of hair behind thegirl’s ear.

“Okay, Caroline,” Hope repeated, beamingat her.

She went over to the office door toleave and turned around. “Caroline? Can I ask you something personal?”

Caroline looked at her warily butnodded. “Always.”

“Are you lonely?”

She swallowed, that question hitting herharder than she expected.

Yeah, it had been a while since she lastdated. After she and Stefan broke up after he became human, and then he diedmonths later, Caroline threw herself into the school and getting it up andrunning. Why bother looking when she literally had forever to date?

Dating was last thing on her mind over thepast two years, but the arrival of Klaus had her contemplating it more and moreeach day. But, he didn’t have to know that quite yet.

“Sometimes,” she confessed quietly. “Butthen I have my girls and that makes me happy.”

Hope nodded understandably and wavedbefore leaving. Caroline blew out a sigh, her eyes falling onto the shiny applethat Klaus gifted her. She picked it up, running her fingers over the smoothskin before taking a bite.

She rolled her eyes.

Of course he’d send her her favoritetype of apple.

Damn his extra ass.

***************************************************************

She should have seen it coming after hertalk with Hope.

Once again, she was sitting in her officeand answering one of Klaus’ daily emails about field trips. He was constantlyoffering to be a chaperone, specifically whenever there was an overnight trip.He claimed it was because he didn’t want Hope to go on overnight distant tripswithout him and didn’t trust his minions to keep her safe. However, his rusewas founded out when he offered to room with Caroline to cut costs. It didn’thelp his cause when he suggested they share a bed in case the heat went out andthey would have to snuggle for warmth.

Subtle, Klaus was not.

Needless to say, he was on the bottom ofthe totem pole on the chaperone lists, and Klaus had been flirting with herthrough emails ever since.

She rolled her eyes at his other“helpful” suggestion email about curriculums, citing a need for a parentteacher conference about end of the year testing questions.

With a smirk, she began to type her usualparent response.

Mr. Mikaelson,

Thank you for yoursuggestion. Your ideas are very important to us at the School of the Young andGifted and we will take your needs into consideration.

Have a magical day,

Caroline Forbes

She pushed “send” and went back to the booksin front of her, gathering up the prints for the new gymnasium wing she wantedto add on. It wasn’t three minutes later, her email dinged with a response fromKlaus.

Dearest Caroline,

I look forward to my needsbeing taken care of by you.

Yours,

Klaus

Caroline snorted and shook her head,fighting down a smile.

Over the past couple of month, theemails between her and Klaus started to take on a different tone. He would send something that would come offsuggestive, making her blush and then she’d send him something even more suggestive or flirty.

The first time she wrote back something,he was so shocked that he didn’t answer for two hours.

The response he ended up sending had hersweating and squirming in her chair for two hours.

She went to respond, but jumped when sheheard a big boom outside her door. Her heart jumped in her throat and panicfilled her veins as she rushed out the door and down the hall to the library towhere a crowd of people were standing around the entry.

She pushed past the students to see herdaughters and Hope staring at a collapsed wall with smoke wafting off it. Theleft wing of the library was reduced to rubble, ash and flames being put out byone of the older students who were eyeing the girls disapprovingly.

“Girls, what happened? Are you okay?”she asked, quickly checking over them to make sure they weren’t hurt.

All three of the girls gave her asheepish look, Hope biting her lip as she ran a hand through her red hair.Caroline tilted her head before turning around and ordered the rest of thestudents out of the room, leaving her with just Hope and the twins.

“It was my fault Ms. Forbes,” sheadmitted. “Josie was trying to get a book from the top shelf and none of uscould reach it.”

“And I couldn’t find a stool,” Lizziechimed in.

“And Auntie Freya taught me a movementspell the other day and I thought I could use it,” Hope cringed, looking overat the smoking collapsed shelves and collectables from the Armory. “So, Itried-”

“It’s exploded!” Josie nearly shouted.“Mommy, it was so cool.”

Caroline gave her daughter a severe lookand she shrank back, shrugging. “At least Lizzie thought it was.”

“I did not!” Lizzie fought back.

“You did too!”

“Girls, quiet,” Caroline interrupted,shooting the arguing twins a glare.

“I’m really sorry Ms. Forbes,” Hopeapologized, looking at her feet glumly. “I know we aren’t supposed to use magicinside the library, but I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Caroline sighed, taking a look at thedamage. They were going to have to completely replace that whole section and itwould take a major dip out of the building fund that she kept for emergencyremodeling (it was frequently used with all the teen witch and warlocks hangingaround).

“Hope, I’m going to have to tell yourparents about this,” she said finally, trying to be firm. “Not only because youexploded half the library, but because you and the girls could have been hurt.”

Hope’s shoulders drooped and she casther eyes on the hardwood floor. “I know.”

“I think you three should probably go toyour rooms for the rest of the day,” Caroline suggested. “No free time tonight.I need to go call Hope’s parents.”

“But Mommy!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

The twins immediately protested untilHope nudgedthem sharply with her elbow.

“That seems fair,” Hope shrugged. “Ithink Daddy was coming for a visit today anyways, so you don’t have to call mymom.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow at Hope’squick acceptance of the punishment, catching a small smile on the girl’s facebefore she grabbed the twins’ hands and all but dragged them out of the room. Aflash of silver caught the light and Caroline’s confusion increased when shenoted the magic suppressing bracelet that Hope wore when she wasn’t in class.

That’s weird. Hope couldn’t do magicwith that bracelet on her.

Caroline’s forehead as she surveyed themess on the ground. There wasn’t any books on the top shelf, nor anything thatLizzie would have wanted. It had a few enchanted objects and hunter item ontop, nothing that a siphoner or witch needed. A movement spell wouldn’t havecaused an explosion either, probably just a toppled over bookcase.

Did they do it on purpose?

She pursed her lips together, puttingher hands on her hips as she tried to think of a reason why the twins and Hopewould want to blow up the library.

“Hello, love.”

A pleasant, familiar British accent camefrom behind her and she spun around, breath catching as she found Klausstanding in the room behind her.

“Klaus.”

He looked annoying hot with a loose grayhenley and black jeans, his signature necklaces procured around his neck. Hishair was styled messily, and a smug smirk plastered on his face. Caroline triedto ignore how her pulse seemed to race in his presence, and just crossed herarms over her chest.

He walked forward, raising his eyebrowsat the damage on the floor. “So, if I write a check to make this incidentdisappear, can we call it the Klaus Mikaelson Library?”

There were giggles heard from thedoorway, with a redhead, brunette, and blonde heads of hair poking out.Caroline rolled her eyes, letting out a groan.

Of course.

************************************************

“Did you seriously have your daughterblow up the library to meet with me? ” Caroline asked, glaring at the hybridsitting across from her in her office.

Klaus gave her an incredulous look. “Idid not.”

She studied him and he stared back, hisinnocent gaze unflinching.

“How did you know Hope blew it up?”

Klaus sighed, leaning back in his chair.“She did the same thing last week when she got angry at Elijah for taking away herbook at the dinner table. It’s a spell that isn’t contained by the bracelet.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Is sheokay?”

Klaus flippantly waved a hand. “She’sfine. It’s a rather devious spell that I would be proud of if she didn’t use itto act out.”

She nodded, filing that piece ofinformation away. “So she blew up the library because-?”

Klaus shrugged, fixing her with hissearing blue eyed gaze. “Your guess is as good as mine, love. She was fine thisweekend. The girls looked rather happy when they reunited Sunday evening.”

Caroline chewed on her lip thoughtfully,scanning her brain for any clue as to why Hope would act out. Klaus’ eyesdrifted to lips briefly before focusing back on her, a fond expressionspreading across his face as he smiled slightly at her.

She was hit with a realization and letout a groan. “I know why.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, folding hishands over his stomach as he settled back comfortably in his chair.

“Do tell, love.”

She rolled her eyes at the pet name, butshe felt a frisson of pleasure in the pit of her stomach.

“Hope came into my office when she cameback from visiting the Compound Monday morning. She was asking…questions,”she started lightly, shifting uncomfortably.

Klaus’ face was the picture of pureinnocence. “Questions?”

“About…us,” she managed, face heatingat the way Klaus’ eyes light up.

“So, there’s an us?” he asked, leaningin smugly.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. “Apparently shefound an old sketch book of yours from Mystic Falls with my face in it and shestarted asking about our relationship and everything.”

Now it was Klaus’ turn to blush, thehybrid clearing his throat awkwardly. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Apparently, they think we’re botha little lonely,” Caroline sighed. “I bet her and the girls came up with ascheme for the next time you were going to visit.”

The corner of Klaus’ lip quirked up inamusement. “That’s my girl.”

“Klaus!” Caroline chastised. “They blewup my library.”

He pressed his lips together to suppresshis amusement, but his eyes sparkled with humor. Caroline tried to glare athim, but the ridiculousness of the situation made a giggle fall out of herlips. Laughter filled the room, and she caught Klaus’ eye, the look in themmaking her stomach flip in circles.

“Oh my God,” Caroline groaned,shaking her head with a smile. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised. Josiemay not be biologically mine, but she’s just as cunning as I was in elementaryschool. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was her idea.”

“Hope’s just as devious as Iam,” Klaus chimed in.

“And Lizzie specializes inexplosions and setting things on fire,” Caroline finished. “They makequite a group.”

“They do,” Klaus said fondly,a small smile on his lips.

There was a knock on the door and itopened, Josie poking her head in. “Mommy, can I come in?”

Klaus and Caroline exchanged interestedlooks before turning back to the girl. “Sure, honey.”

The little brunette scooted into theroom, stopping dead when she saw Klaus sitting in the chair in front of thedesk. Her cheek’s tinged pink and she gave him a shy look. Caroline bit her lipto hold back a giggle.

While Lizzie was partial to Freya, Josieliked Klaus the most. She didn’t know what it was about him, but the two ofthem got along incredibly well.

“Hi Mr. Klaus,” she saidshyly, shooting him a smile.

“Hello Josie,” he saidpolitely, giving her a dimpled grin. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she answered,reaching over and wrapping an arm around his and gave him a quick side hug.

Caroline’s brows lifted in surprise,unable to stop the small smile that spread across her face at the scene. SeeingKlaus with her daughters was one of the strangest things, but now it wasturning out to be one of her favorite visuals.

“I was coming in to ask Mommy aquestion, but I think you can help answer it too,” Josie said seriously,looking directly at Klaus.

He winked at Caroline as he turned hisattention to the twin and she rolled her eyes, cursing the way her breathhitched at his smooth motion.

“What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask if Hope couldspend the night with us in the dorm this weekend,” the girl began.“She likes going home, but we miss her on the weekends and we wanted tohave a sleep over.”

Klaus gave Caroline a quick look, athoughtfully devious looking smile spreading across his face. Caroline narrowedher eyes at him, knowing that calculating look all too well.

“I think that’s is a fabulous ideaJosie,” Klaus responded, leaning down to in his chair to where he andJosie were eye level. “Actually, your mother and I had a betteridea.”

“We did?” Carolineinterrupted, arching her eyebrow.

“Of course, love,” he answeredpleasantly, Josie giggling at the endearment “How would you and Lizzielike to come over for a sleepover with Hope this weekend in the Compound?”

“Klaus-”

“Your mother and I have lots todiscuss about the school on Friday night, and it might bleed into Saturdaymorning,” Klaus continued and Caroline nearly choked at the innuendo inhis invitation. “So, she’ll be there to help chaperone. Sound good?”

Josie nodded enthusiastically. “Canwe Mommy?”

“Yes, love. Can we?” Klausasked smugly, looking over at Caroline’s gob smacked face.

She pursed her lips together at Klaus’glaring at his amused expression. Josie watched hopefully, her big brown eyespleading. Suddenly, an idea struck her and she sent Klaus a smirk.

“Sounds great,” she saidbrightly. “But I have a concern.”

“Oh?” Klaus quirked a brow.

“I think our meeting may last allthe way to Sunday night,” she said casually, enjoying the way Klaus’ eyesbugged out at that. “I guess we should all pack for the weekend.”

Josie whooped loudly, quickly huggingKlaus and then her mom before rushing out and calling a thank you behind her.Klaus set his dark gaze on Caroline as she innocently tapped a few keys on hercomputer to check her email.

“Love.”

She ignored him, chewing studiously onher lip as she continued to read her latest email.

“Caroline.”

“Mmm yes?”

“Are you serious?” he askedhonestly.

She gave him a innocently confused look.“You did say you were looking forward to your needs being taken care of.I’m just letting you know that it not a one meeting process.”

Klaus’ eyes darkened even more and headvanced over the desk to where he was looming over her, his scent making hershiver in anticipation.

“I wasn’t talking about theschool,” he murmured, pushing a hair back behind her ear.

She peered at him through her lashes,biting her lip. “Neither was I.”

Klaus grumbled in approval, pressing akiss to her temple. A stroke of heat flooded her body and she had to bite backa sigh at the simple, electric inducing gesture. “How many meetings areyou thinking for meeting our…needs?”

Caroline shrugged, winking at him slyly.“I’m thinking however long it takes.”

Klaus’ answering smile sucked all thebreath out of her. “It’s a deal.”

Review here :)

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #loving klaroline #my writing

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

I used to go to various spooky cities pretty regularly, just for fun. Aesthetic, fun, spooky dates and spooky love, tres goth, whatever. The past few years I have had much less time for fun, and that’s been mostly on purpose.

But the LAST time I went somewhere spooky for fun, it was Savannah, not New Orleans, in, hmm, summer 2015? Yes. The weekend before my best friend died, you see, not that I knew that was going to happen when I--well--I’m getting head of myself.

Bunch of highly personal spiritual shit under the cut. Don’t click if that’s not your bag. If it is your bag, I hope you like skeletons.

I grew up Santera, right. I was dedicated to Oshun at an early age. My mother got more into Vodou as time went on, and in Miami, at least, those lines are really blurry. But like all kids that grow up in bomb ass mystery religions, I went through a rebellious Wiccan early teen and-it-harm-none hippie dippe phase. As you do, honestly. It’s a thing.

And then, as an adult, for most of my adult life, I was an atheist. I never talk about this, and I kind of hem and haw and skirt the issue of what exactly I do now, despite the occasional witchy post. I was never an obnoxious atheist, and arguably I was never a really good atheist, because it’s not so much that I didn’t believe, but that I decided I shouldn’t, and that’s not the same thing. But time went on and I managed to bury that kernel of belief very deep. I didn’t want to come across as credulous. Give me my GMOs, give me my artificial sweeteners, give me all the fucking science and none of your anti-science bullshit that you wrap up in absurd and appropriated tidbits of mysticism.

(and a lot of that stands, actually. give me my GMOs.)

So: I was an atheist, and I was trying very hard.

Certain powers, you see, are patient.

I kept the aesthetic and my cultural pride, though--Oshun and Erzulie always got my hushed little prayers in quick mind whispers. Oshun got votive candles no matter how far from belief I allegedly got, and to Erzulie I gave my skin--and this was a devotional act, full stop, despite everything else I claimed to not believe. And the ocean, I never stopped worshiping the ocean in one sense or another, and even my poetic obsession with the ocean is devout.

however.

however.

Someone I shoved out of the picture entirely.

Certain powers, you see, are indulgent. They’ll wait for your silly little human insecurities to play out. up to a point.

In my dreams since I was a child I have been friends with a decomposing skeleton wearing a tophat. As I got older I recognized who that was supposed to be.

I don’t even remember when or specifically why I threw out my magic shit and put my Baron bust in a closet, but I did. I couldn’t get rid of the Baron Fabulous bust, even though I tried to make myself want to do that, so I climbed on top of my kitchen counter and shoved it into the back of a pantry far too high for me to reach.

And then and only then did I make any real progress in pretending to be a legit atheist. Out of sight, out of mind, out of life, motherfucker!

So the point is, I went to Savannah in full on sneering mode. “Hah! This hotel claims to be haunted! What a quaint marketing strategy. Midnight one man show of ghost stories in a historic theater? Sure, I like atmosphere and aren’t people so suggestible?. After hours tour of a huge famous cemetery? Hahaha sure whatever that’s cute, thanks for booking us for that, babe. Let me prance through here and not say hello and leave no offerings, let me laugh and sneer and make fun.

Anyway, so then I had the single most terrifying weekend of my entire life.

I have had a lot of mundane real life scary shit happen to me. And I’ve had a bunch of weird shit happen to me. And yet I have never, ever told anyone the full story of what happened to me in Savannah. I can’t. Even if I sat you down, looked you right in the eye, and told you everything, and you believed me--I would not be able to explain to you the DEPTH of everything, how it felt. What it meant.

And what played out soon after.

I joke about this weekend, but only because I’m making fun of myself. For being an idiot. And a rude idiot, too. So disrespectful.

I took most of this in stride at the time--sort of. I flailed around and I panicked and I knew I had to make some changes. Years after I had put him there, I scaled my kitchen counters, pulled the Baron out of my pantry closet, put him up on a prominent bookshelf in my apartment and said, basically, “MY BAD I’M SO SORRY.”

I mention this, sometimes, and I mention my best friend dying, and I think some people think that I’m implying a cause and effect relationship there. Absolutely not. In no way whatsoever. I don’t think magic works that way at all, and, frankly, I’m insulted you think my deity so petty.

I knew someone was going to die. I knew. I don’t mean in a nervous, jittery, “am i losing my mind?” kind of way. I don’t mean in an anxious gnawing preoccupation kind of way. I don’t mean in a doubtful dreading way. I don’t mean paranoia. I don’t mean fear. I don’t mean anxiety.

I mean that I knew. I knew someone close to me was going to die. I knew that was nothing I could, or should, do about it.

I was being warned, not as a threat, but as a kindness.

I knew. When we called the cops and the cops eventually called us and the door was getting bust open at 3 something AM, I knew. I was there and fully awake and well dressed.

Why? Because I fucking knew.

I didn’t put on pajamas that night. I showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

“What are you dressed for? Come to bed.”

Fine, I’ll come to bed. But I won’t sleep.

And I didn’t. Because I knew. I knew I was just going to have to get up and get dressed again, and I knew why.

And so it was, and at 2 something AM, we got the call, and I soberly drove us over to my best friend’s neighborhood, and I knew.

Did it still hurt? like a MOTHERFUCKER. like you will not believe unless you’ve lost someone that close to you, and if you have, I am sorry.

So it wasn’t the terrifying weekend that brought me back.

It was that warning, that kindness. That mercy.

And oh, did it still hurt. My friend who died was my best friend and also my best social outlet. We used to go dancing every weekend and he was a b boy in addition to being a personal trainer and a huge nerd. I adored him. Z adored him. And he adored us.

So his death was a big deal. And his death, so close to my personal decision to come back to magic, that was a big lifestyle change.

I’ve written about that before, and how then I slowly became a hermit in a tower. Hermitage. Spiritual hermitage along with the writing, along with the increase in physical discipline. I have learned many things. Not half as much as I’d like? Sure. Nonetheless.

But there was a lot of terror, at first. And a whole  lot of other emotions. And I haven’t sorted that out yet.

Here’s what I’ve only just realized, though.

That weekend, and what came soon after, and that process I went through? That is a bonafide reawakening, my friends. That is some born again shit. That might seem obvious in the telling, but it WASN’T, as it was happening.

You don’t realize that change is going to stick, sometimes, and even when you say “things will be different now,” you don’t know what that’s going to mean.

and don’t get me wrong: I was, for a time, VERY distracted from the spiritual quest.

There are shamanistic traditions that talk about cracking open the head as a form of initiation.

Now, I’ve had my head literally cracked open--or more accurately, carefully drilled open by a highly skilled neurosurgeon. So, check, I guess.

But when I look back at the absolute, like--

Everything that’s happened since then.

So much has happened since then.

And so much happened as a result of that weekend, and the thing is, it was a total confluence of events that brought me to Savannah, nothing of my doing, really. A hottie booked me a romantic trip and so I went, duh. Wouldn’t you?

But so here I am, all these years later, which isn’t even really that many years later, and my world is so fundamentally different. So much has changed and I didn’t even notice it changing at the time. And so much has remained the same, too, and I am forever grateful for those precious constant things. I love you, my constant star, and I always will.

But body, soul, aesthetic, skill set, academic knowledge, everything! So much is different! So! fucking! much! AND I lost all my material possessions!

And here I am, booking a hotel, grabbing a friend, and making my way to New Orleans. Just for the weekend. If a confluence of events brought me TO Savannah, it almost feels like this has been the opposite. I have been so stressed lately, about everything. I didn’t think I was going to be able to swing this, period, let alone last minute. But you know, really? So much fell into place for me, here and now. There’s been so much luck. So much grace.

So even if, like, nothing happens--even if I somehow manage to have the most boring weekend ever, which I’m SO not going to do, but whatever, even if--there’s still something, something...

An initiation? Not exactly, I don’t think. A rite? A proof? I don’t know, exactly.

A chance to apologize? Well, yes. Always more of those.

But I think of the last couple of years, and I think of the future plans I’m trying for.

And I feel, more than anything

That my divinity is loving to the point of indulgence, and understanding, and kind--

but ultimately, ultimately, if he holds out his bony hand

I still have to step up and take it.

Ten years ago, in my dreams, he asked me a question.

And only now am I finally saying:

yes.

What does saying yes look like? What will that mean? I can’t see the shape of it yet. And it honestly kind of doesn’t matter.

yes, yes, yes.

#personal

[talkinganddrumsolos]

I Went To New Orleans And All You Got Is This Lousy T-Shirt

Among the glib and oversimplified beliefs I find utility in repeating to others is this recommendation: all Americans ought to visit New Orleans. I mean something more specific, of course, something like: all Americans ought to visit New Orleans but only partly for bon-temps decadence and also to see the most eccentric but perfectly logical extension of what your country's economic system and institutional racism and general human ingenuity hath wrought. To see a place where the the problems of Everytown, USA are humidified into a crucible but also where young black men regularly earn social and financial capital from playing the tuba. To see a place that is doomed in the short-to-medium term to repeat its own mistakes and doomed in the long term to Poseidon, yet "still I rise" until the sea level counters again.

This also requires having a particular point of view — some desire to witness regional cultural experience, and some empathic consciousness toward the underprivileged whose communities often are the originators of said cultural experiences. These things manifest in basic questions that should occur to any witness, as in "why is there an elaborate parade today for no particular reason?“ or “who had the idea to immerse seafood in butter?“ or “how does this elegant baroque richesse coexist with such stark inequality and tropical decay?” Apparently even this half-woke perspective is harder to come by in America c. 2017 than it it ought to be, but when presented with such marvels it isn’t really a big ask. It doesn't really matter exactly what type of privilege or cultural experience you're curious about; in New Orleans, chase any thread far enough and the intersections of oppressions and creative pursuits both should get you to some form of the experience I have in mind.

OK wait. That all scans way too grim and medicinal, especially since my personal experiences in New Orleans have been, on the whole, really fucking fun. As a wee lad my immigrant parents convened a family vacation to Louisiana basically as an excuse to escape winter and imbibe seasoned crawdads; I was old enough to remember specific things being entertaining and delicious but not old enough to find any of it particularly enlightening. About six years ago I sent myself to the Jazz and Heritage Festival for work with a colleague who happened to be a New Orleans native, and Josh basically gave me the weeklong crash course in Crescent City Conspicuous Consumption 101. The pump had been primed by jazz music mythologies and some vague inference that the city in the news and other mass-cultural phenomena all the time was indeed exceptional living history, but that was the start of the love affair really.

Throughout this last trip I just completed, well-meaning people kept asking me why I was visiting, which struck me as superfluous. I just assumed they would just assume I was there for the same reason that any other out-of-place-looking dude was suddenly in the area code: tourism. Well, that and the convergence of a few boring personal motivations: trying to make the most of forcible unemployment; trying to be warm during an East Coast winter, trying to ride a bicycle somewhere warm during an East Coast winter, trying to use some frequent flyer miles (I paid $11.20 for the flight), trying to see what attracted some good friends from college to land there and stay there, trying to take a vacation from my own simmering existential crises. But also I went to try to better understand why the music and food I’d developed a taste for existed and perpetuated itself not just by reading about it, but by consuming more of it. Basically, tourism.

If I had to pick a centerpiece event of the week I was there, it was probably the 21-hour period in which I attended the first parade of the Mardi Gras/Carnival season — the profoundly politically-incorrect Krewe du Vieux, followed by the more broadly satirical krewedelusion — and the following day’s second line parade of the CTC Steppers (nothing to do with Mardi Gras), which crossed an industrial canal into the Lower Ninth Ward led by 6-7 floats blaring bounce and modern R&B ahead of the brass band. The mere regular existence of these traditions, where ordinary people build ornate floats to slowly walk around the city in costumes for no discernible purpose other than merriment, is an manmade wonder of the world in itself. They also form a handy contrast: the white-encoded Krewe du Vieux vs. a social aid and pleasure club thoroughly suffused in blackness, skewering others vs. prideful celebration of self, depictions of Donald Trump suffering sex acts vs. a fair amount of twerking, the most economically successful areas of the city vs. a poor area still very much recovering from post-Katrina flood damage, anarchy as aesthetic vs. actual barely reined-in anarchy. In some figurative respects, and a literal one, it was night and day.

(krewedelusion, a younger, more diverse and more female set of sub-krewes, took on some sharper and generally more clever targets. Among the many were anti-AirBnB protests, Guy Fawkes masks, an all-women sub-krewe, the Krewe du Jieux [say it out loud], and a group named after James Brown: the Krewe of King James Super Bad Sex Machine Strollers. Their “security” staff was members of New Orleans Ladies Arm Wrestling. It, like much of New Orleans, doesn’t quite fit as neatly into the duality I’m setting up.)

I didn’t quite eat as much shellfish or see as much live music as I had intended, though it was still quite a bit. I did do my fair share of “chill,” as did apparently most of the city. On aimless strolls or bike rides through neighborhoods, an awful lot of folks seemed to be porch-sitting or biding their time in coffee shops or otherwise not really up to much in the middle of the day. Obviously there are plenty of people invisibly doing the building and harvesting and oil drilling and construction and shrimp-boating and cooking, and plenty of tourists to skew the visible numbers, but it seems like an awful lot of folks are marginally employed, or self-employed, or underemployed, or employed in weird service-industry hours, or just not employed. Coming from DC, a place where work-life balance is both bad and boujee, a place where people have more time than money was welcomed if a bit confusing.

Maybe this, and many of my experiences this time around, were filtered through the truly fine folks I stayed with. My friend lives with her girlfriend and another gay couple and most of that household is students and freelancers. One dude also plays in a moderately well-known rock band. Counting their central social circles, the whole thing was a bit like the Dykes To Watch Out For anthology like the one on their bathroom shelf. Basically my whole experience of this Mardi Gras parade in the presence of queer folks and at a gay bar, which, it turns out, was a pretty awesome vantage point for the freak flags of Carnival time anyhow. New Orleans has always struck me as a sort of place where people can build their scenes with relative ease, and as a general statement I’m glad all my peoples down there have found their peoples.

You see things from one subaltern position and you begin to see them all, and not coincidentally my gracious hosts are involved with several social justice communities. One night we went to a panel discussion called “Black Liberation in the Time of Trump” (it was hosted by a white anti-racism group called European Dissent) which seemed apropos. Chalk it up to my artistic interests maybe, but I’ve always observed the predominant power dynamic around New Orleans to be why black communities define so much of its cultural life yet hold so little of its wealth, and are many times legally restricted unduly in the development of that culture.

(Sometimes this discussion too easily excludes underprivileged populations that don’t fit on it. A friend of a friend, an black EMT, is often asked to list the “race” of patients, and reports that there are only two categories on the form — white and black — which is curious given the large Vietnamese and growing Hispanic communities in the city. Again, shades of grey here.)

I guess some well-meaning white folk see New Orleans as defined by its European cultural history, as in French Quarter architecture or Cajun or Italian food or erstwhile Catholicism, and there’s certainly a lot of that to go around. Here and elsewhere though, the United States of America’s popular cultural history has generally been defined by black people repurposing things for themselves, which is how you get to the neighborhoods where people actually live, and black Creole cooking, and Mardi Gras Indians, and Congo Square and jazz and R&B and traditional brass bands and modern brass bands and bounce and Cash Money Records, and a black majority population after white flight and Robert Moses freeway projects, and gentrification and/or tourism co-opting these things to sell back to moneyed mostly-white people. You can’t really enjoy yourself down there without noticing this.

One wonders whether many of the other relative post-Katrina newcomer folks participate in this cultural life of the city in any meaningful way — if it’s just another dangerous city with economic opportunity and terrible infrastructure (my God the roads), or whether the city’s exceptionalism is worthy of their deeper understanding and time investment as well. The city’s longer-term residents, I suspect, alternately welcome and revile these newcomers, depending in part on these newcomers’ engagement with local concerns. Turfing and perceived ownership in the cultural arena is a tricky topic; having “covered” transplanted white jazzmen based there and elsewhere, there are few clear rules. Yet sometimes even the best intentions for allyship or even active complicity needn’t qualify you for a hood pass, and it’s best to shut up and listen.

As is my unfortunate wont, I’ve made this whole reflection overlong and not particularly coherent. Maybe an incident from my last night in town would illuminate my general point insofar as I was trying to make one. I found myself at a wine and cheese and tapas joint with a huge outdoor patio and a monochromatically pale audience, whatevs, to see a cellist named Helen Gillet. She does a looping and improv thing across idiom, singing French chanson and American rock songs and original compositions and generally getting rad, somewhere between Andrew Bird and Tune-Yards and Yo-Yo Ma. Her last tune, fittingly, severed the hair on her bow. It was all a reminder that the New Orleans music tradition isn’t necessarily about tresillo patterns and trombones, but more generally about good and creative music.

Anyway, throughout the performance, we were frequently interrupted by two blacked-out military helicopters conducting drills above an adjacent abandoned Naval building. They would hover alarmingly low, as if to pick up a nonexistent passenger from a rooftop, then elevate away, occasionally leaving an enormous and unidentified explosion in their wakes. To put it lightly, it was very disruptive. But Helen kept at it despite the deafening roar of rotors, occasionally joking that they were listening. What else was she to do, right?

That creativity and revelry and uniquely resourceful art is valued in such quantity in New Orleans that it can support many musicians with a significant supplementary or working-to-middle-class income is, I think, no small wonder. But those military helicopters were a stark symbolic reminder that cellos are not actually ordnance; that these cultural pursuits are circumscribed by colonial and police-statist and capitalist and white supremacist systems that are more powerful, more insidious, more invisibly baked into the fabric of everyday life than we can at once describe. (This, too, was on the day we woke up and learned that Beyonce’s Southern-, Louisiana- and black-centric critically-lauded album had “lost” a Grammy award to a contrite Adele, which as many commentators pointed out, is a prime example of what systemic racism looks like in the music biz itself.) This oppression both gives rise to and then limns many of the things I love about New Orleans, and yet those things still happen, at least so far.

To a privileged observer it’s all beautiful and all damned and rarely quite so simple as one or the other. To a local, it must be hard to get on with your day unless you somewhat accept that it just is.

[eldritchsurveys]

292.

Did you do anything stupid/anything you regret today? >> I’ve only been awake for like 2 hours, I haven’t really had time to do much at all.

Do you trust your doctor? >> I don’t have a doctor.

Have you ever switched primary care doctors? If yes, what was the reason? >> I’ve never had one in the first place.

Do you ever sleep on your bedroom floor just for fun? >> No.

What's the last thing you regret spending money on? >> I can’t think of anything.

Do you have a youtube channel? If so, how many subscribers do you have? >> I don’t.

What color are your nails painted currently? >> They aren’t.

Are you worried about your current financial situation? >> No, my current financial situation is fine for my purposes.

What was the last thing that made you cry? >> I don’t remember. Probably had something to do with Wednesday or rather the lack thereof.

Do you know anyone who's had a stillbirth? >> 

Who was the last person you know (or that you know of) that died? >> Only one person I knew personally has died that I know of, and that was over a decade ago.

What are you looking forward to doing tomorrow? >> Nothing specific.

What store did you shop at last? >> Meijer.

Do you need a new phone? >> I don’t.

What's something you are behind on? >> What We Do in the Shadows, but only by like one episode.

Name someone who has it worse than you. >> ...

Do you wish you were rich? >> I really don’t.

Do you miss someone who treated you horribly? >> No.

Would you rather get a big tattoo or small tattoo? >> I’d like to get a bigger one, all my current tattoos are small because those are what I can afford.

Are there any redheads in your family? >> No.

Do you identify as a supernatural being..i.e., unicorn, alien, goddess...? >> I think of myself as a singularity (the center of a black hole).

Do you block a lot of people on facebook? >> I don’t use facebook.

What's one thing you are tired of seeing or hearing about on facebook? >> ---

What is a secret you have? >> ---

Do you wait until the last minute to do laundry? >> No, we do it weekly.

Do you have any big regrets in life? >> No.

What color is the sweatshirt you wear the most? >> I only have one sweatshirt (it’s navy blue). I usually wear hoodies instead.

Do you consider yourself athletic? >> Not at all.

What's one thing you are not? >> Athletic. :p

Has anyone ever bullied you while you were grieving a loss? >> No.

When was the last time you went to the doctor? >> I don’t remember.

How many pills do you take every morning? >> Sometimes one (a CBD capsule), sometimes zero.

Do you own a designer purse? >> No.

Which twin is your favorite: Niki or Gabi? >> ????

Do you know anyone who is colorblind? >> I mean, probably. But I'm not aware of it.

Which youtuber do you feel like you relate to the most? >> I haven’t watched any that I feel I relate to.

List three people you hope to meet in Heaven. >> ...

When was the last time you cleaned your room? >> Aside from passing through with the vacuum, probably a couple of weeks ago. It doesn’t need cleaning often because I keep it orderly by default.

Do you have a prayer partner? >> No.

When was the last time you went to church? >> Easter.

Do you know what you're wearing for the 4th of July? >> I’m not wearing anything special, so no.

What was the last parade you went to? >> I haven’t gone to a parade since I lived in NYC. But I’ve seen a couple in my trips to NOLA, because they do that shit a lot.

Have you ever been in a parade, and if yes, doing what? >> Yeah, I’ve marched in NYC Pride a few times.

What is your favorite ride at the fair? >> ---

Do you wish you had someone you could trust? >> ??? I mean, I don’t really know what that means for me. I trust most people superficially (like, I trust them not to just randomly be a dick, I guess? or randomly try to kill me?), but any deeper kind of trust is like, alien to me.

Do you want a dog that looks like you? >> I don’t... I don’t think any dogs look like me...

What theme do you want for your wedding? >> Our wedding "theme” is a mix of paganism, death, and just New Orleans itself.

What theme would you choose for a baby's nursery? >> *shrug* I’m not really interested in themed rooms.

What color would you paint a baby girl's nursery? >> Pale yellow is the colour I’d choose for a baby’s room. Or maybe a pale mint green.

Does your first crush know that he/she was your first crush? >> ---

Do you know your first crush's middle name? >> ---

What is one thing you are scared of? >> Wasps. Fuck wasps.

How far away do you live from your favorite park? >> A few hundred miles. :T

What is the last thing you missed out on that you wanted to go to? >> I don’t remember.

Do you have a secret nobody knows? >> No.

Who do you wish were your best friend? >> ---

Who do you wish you could go on another date with? >> ---

Name a celebrity who has your natural hair color. >> Idris Elba. I mean, I have dark brown hair, and so do a lot of people.

Which family member did you get your height from? >> I’m directly between my mother and my father in height, as far as I recall, so who knows.

What color was the last popsicle you ate? >> ---

Do you feel stupid regularly? >> No.

How do you love yourself when you feel stupid? >> I don’t really know how to answer this question. I know I’m not stupid and any feeling to the contrary is just temporary.

What's a great piece of advice you've heard? >> “This too shall pass” is still pretty solid for me. Kind of encompasses any problem.

Do you like your butt? >> No. I’d love it on someone else, but it doesn’t suit my aesthetic needs.

What style of wedding dress do you want? >> I’m wearing a suit, thanks, and it’s bespoke and that’s all I’ve ever asked for in life, so I’m good.

What does your dream house look like? >> I don’t have one.

List ten girl's names you love. >> ---

List ten boy names you love. >> ---

Who was the last friend of yours to have a baby, and what's the baby's name? >> I don’t have any friends with children. Sparrow’s sister just had a baby, though, and his name is Elliot.

Are all of your friends having babies right now? >> ---

Who is the cutest baby you've seen on social media recently? >> ---

Do you know anyone who's given birth to twins? >> No.

What's your biggest regret? >> I don’t have one.

#surveys #survey #random survey