One Thing I Will Say About Cassandra Clare And Early Shadowhunters Stuff Is She Stood On Business Ten

Saw someone asking everyone to "stop posting so much Valgrace cause it's clogging the Jason tag" so Im coming here to remind everyone that one, you can block tags. And two, you should post more valgrace.

I control the narrative, I whisper to myself like a lunatic while the characters in the story I'm writing are not following my orders.

oooh this looks like a fun one :D

thanks for the tag!! <33

no pressure tags! @bowsinhair @fel1ra @the1astolympian @pain-is-too-tired @iamrizaka @owls-can-read @bleep-bloop-boo @starberry-muffin @starryssunflowers and anyone else who wants to join! <333

Challenging you all!

Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most!

Then tag Tumblr friends to keep the game going!

OMG I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAD A TUMBLR?!

ngl you are the reason why I ship Micheal x Jake and Castor x Lee

IVE BEEN OBSESSED OVER THE PAST FEW MONTHS LMAO

YEAH I DO! :D

omg seriously?? that's so cool! thank you! :D :D <33

I KNOW, IT'S A OBSESSION, TRUST ME, IT DOESN'T GET BETTER

question. do your irl friends know about your presence on this hellsite or are you in full hannah montana mode for life

argshsgshdgdggdbd YES

Thinking about domestic Sunforge chat.

Just early morning were Michael is waking up early(thanks Apollo) and Jake just whines and wraps his arms around his waist, not wanting him to get up.

Michael just chuckling and kissing top of Jake's head before getting up and making them breakfast.

Them talking about what to eat for dinner why in an active fight or just working.

Them planning out chores that best suit them(Michael can wash the dishes, and put up all but the cups and some bowls. He will try to climb the counter to try though-). Them having to separate their clothing to wash because their clothes get different types of dirty(Jake with soot and grease from working on stuff. Michael with different germs and such from working in the infirmary)

Michael tending to any cuts,bruises or burns Jake got from the forge.

Them having a cat and after it gets really dirty from something they have to give it a bath to wash it off and both trying the bath the cat gdhdg

Just. Them being domestic.

sat on my school bus rn and I've just had possibly the cutest but most depressing idea ever

what if Lee used to have a habit of collecting ducks?

like, plastic, glass, metal, whatever, just yellow ducks

hats, spots, stripes, accessories, this man has a whole army

and he made a habit of hiding them around cabin seven and the infirmary and when any of his siblings were sad or needed distracting he'd send them to find a specific duck and they'd be searching for the next hour for a fucking yellow and pink polka-dot duck with a tiara

and when he dies, everyone completely forgets about this until Will rummages through a drawer in the infirmary one day and BOOM

cowboy duck✨

and suddenly everyone's finding ducks everywhere, in shoes and drawers and the archery range storage cabinet and that one part of the strawberry fields where Lee and Castor used to hang out and whenever someone missed him they'd all go on a hunt for a duck until they had over a hundred of the fucking things

but still, even years later, after the TOA, Jerry finds a duck with a grapevine hat and a guitar, and Will, Kayla and Austin burst into giggles while he looks at them in confusion

'what? why are you laughing?'

'nothing. nothing at all.'

:D

i feel like we’re all little koi fish in the tumblr pond waiting for boops to be dropped in the water and when they are we all rise to the surface frantically

Lee does not immediately suspect something when he hears screaming.

That's his bad.

He will make it abundantly clear in his defense that the core value of this camp is violence. That is It. Not safety, not training, not worship or hard work or discipline or anything. It's violence. Didn't get the last croissant at breakfast? Violence. Someone used up all the hot water? Violence. Someone got in close to your face and insulted your dead mother? Violence. Can't decide whose nail polish colour is more well suited to their outfit?

You guessed it.

Violence.

His cabin is not immune. In fact, the Apollo cabin may be technically from some perspectives worse than every other. It is a little known fact that the solid gold walls of hubris are, in fact, sound proofed, and yet the midnight trombone continues to echo gently and unkindly over the midnight breeze. So when he hears, one beautiful and sunny July afternoon, intense, bloodcurdling screaming echoing from his very place of residence, he thinks: ah. Someone has once again used Leanna's sheet music practice and she is responding with brute force. Good for her.

But then, of course, the screaming pitches up high enough that four windows shatter and his hearing starts to go, and he thinks, again, ah. And then immediately begins to sprint.

"Whatever you're doing, cut it the fuck out," he barks, sprinting up the porch, and then very quickly turns to the side to wheeze silently. "Leave him -- oh, for the love of the gods."

Fortunately, his youngest brother is not being teased or tortured or in any other such way bothered. Technically. Unfortunately, the brother who he should have been more concerned about is pinning said baby brother to the floor, needles shining in hand, shrieking, "Sit still! Sit still! I swear to the muses, asswipe, sit still or I am going to end up impaling your brain!"

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts --"

"I have not fucking done it yet!"

"Michael," Lee says, dragging a hand down his face, "watch your fucking language."

Michael bares his teeth. "He pestered me for twelve fucking days, Lee. He is getting his ears pierced or I am going to pierce him between the eyes from a hundred fucking feet."

"He's torturing me!" Will hollers, straining away. "He's -- sticking me like a pin cushion --"

"That is how piercing works you little shit --"

"I'm reporting you to child services!"

"Good! Call 'em now! It'll take them half a fuckin' hour to get here, I'll have lots of time to kick your ass!"

On one hand, Lee is Practically and Adult. He is seventeen whole years old. He can vote, if he chooses to break the law. Hell, in some countries he's legally allowed to kill people with no consequences.

"None of that is true," says Diana from her bunk, flipping a page in her magazine.

On the other hand, it is a truly beautiful day. He could just...leave. He could take a walk along the beautiful shoreline and reflect upon the days when he was an only child of a neglectful mother, blissfully lonely and unbothered. Oh, those were the days.

"Hold still!"

On the mysterious third hand, it is really kind of funny to watch Michael wrestle with a nine-year-old and lose.

"Move over," Lee says, walking over to his sister's bunk. She does, giving him approximately one square millimeter of space. Wow. She's feeling generous today. "Wager?"

"Twenty-six minutes at minimum," Diana says. She pats around until her hand hits maybe the massivest bag of sour gummi worms Lee has ever seen, shoving at least nine in her mouth at once. "And its uneven."

Lee reaches for a gummi worm. She kicks him in the spleen. He pulls his hand away.

"I'll take that. He's getting some leverage, I think he'll get them pierced in twenty-four."

"You're on."

They shake, then settle into observe. Diana passes him a set of rubber ear plugs, which he gratefully accepts just before Will screeches so loudly Michael's ear drums genuinely begin to bleed. At least he got closer, this time.

(It takes Michael thirty-two minutes and he somehow manages to pierce one ear twice. Lee accepts his gummi-worm winnings with grace and integrity and anything Diana claims otherwise is because she is a bitter sore loser who likes to start rumours and discredit his good name.)

(Obviously.)

-- -- --

based on this and this drawing by @cometjuice

more cabin 7

gotta love flirting with your best friend and then friendzoning him-

He hummed softly, casually reaching out and twirling a strand of the other boy’s hair around his finger, and grinned as Jake blushed a deep shade of red, staring at him for a moment, then quickly looking away and clearing his throat. “Yeah, I take it back.” He said, voice strained. “You can definitely flirt. Gods, Michael.” Michael snickered, winking and leaning back, looking back towards Cleo, who had successfully got Max to fire a few shots close to the middle, which was impressive considering he was pretty sure the older boy couldn’t think straight right now. “Shame we’re just friends, then, if you’re that easy to fluster.” He teased, and Jake coughed again, voice still a bit tight. “Yeah, shame.”

🤦🏻‍♀️