ignore that excuse for a background

2

muhhahah ya I know I’m evil. I wanted to draw something angsty and I found this poem thingy on my computer and I thought PeRfEcT. Please don’t judge me. If you don’t understand this, their lions broke, as did keiths helmet and lance is sacrificing himself to save keith not even knowing if he’s gonna live bc he’s wounded and uncontios and stuff. I know this has a lot of flaws pls ignore them.

Caught

summary: 
“Phil, why are you sitting in a different location?” Phil reads off of the chat accidentally. Not even five minutes into the show and he’s already seeming suspicious. Nice. Phil’s cheeks tint pink and he hopes that it goes unnoticed to the people watching. He feels like he should care more about what he looks like, especially since Dan is kneeling just out of shot, mouthing over Phil’s growing length. (prompt here)

genre: smut

warnings: public kink, voyeurism (not rly tho is it), blowjobs, deepthroating ;)

word count: 1790

read on ao3!!!

a/n: heyoooooo this was a fun prompt, i’m so happy i wrote this. i also got really awesome prompts today so i gotta get on those. i’ll keep this short, but just reminding you that i’m updating The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty tomorrow!!! get hyped!!!!!! i hope you all enjoy <3333

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what is not racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and refusing admit that the ship blatantly sidelined a black male lead and his well-developed interracial relationship with the female lead.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and claiming that their blossoming relationship is not at all related to the writers’ decision to end the interracial relationship and denying that the ship was ended solely to allow the white man/white woman ship to begin. brownie point for backing the bullshit excuse that “"chemistry”“ is the driving factor behind that choice.

what is racist: shipping a white man and a white woman together and ignoring the alarming red flags in the relationship and bashing the interracial relationship that you claim was boring and lacked chemistry; meanwhile it was actually a good example of a balanced and healthy dynamic between two people in a relationship that also offered representation for interracial couples.

no one is calling you racist for “simply shipping two straight white people together”. people are calling you racist because you continually refuse to acknowledge the racism behind the creation of the relationship. because you choose to be dismissive and make excuses for the racist decisions made by the show’s writing staff. because you support and praise the writers’ choices for the relationship that has pushed minority representation and unique, interesting characters to the background in favor of a conventionally attractive white guy whose character traits are quite frankly boring, overused and one-dimensional. and because you ignore and deny the fact that a straight white man has taken precedence over every minority character on a show that, might I add, preaches how “diverse” and “progressive” they are.

just some food for thought since so many of you don’t seem to grasp why others are telling you you’re being racist.

Happier With You (Part Three)

Summary: Steve has had many regrets in his life, but his biggest regret was when he let you go all those years ago. Now, you’re with someone else, and you’re happy. And that’s all that Steve wants for you. But he knows that he was happier with you by his side. And deep down, you know it too.

Inspired by: Ed Sheeran’s entire Divide album.
Also, inspired by my friend, Tator Tot. Nothing spicer than Sriracha Steve.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1063

Previous Part: Part Two

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

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Excuse the shitty background. I drew it before i realized i couldn’t draw bleachers.

Here is part two of my Long Exposure fan art. I just wanna say, Jonas is super fun to draw and color. I just can’t get enough of these two. Here’s one of them being gross. @smokeplanet

This is pretty much a duplicate post because I’m a dumbshit and keep forgetting to post my art on my freaking art blog. sooo… yeah. Oh, and ignore the shitty shading. I got suupper lazy near the end of this. o_o

The short moment before the sun fully rose over the horizon… it was the moment of silent contemplation that was his alone. In the short moment before duty would call him back he allowed himself to let his guard down… to wonder… to daydream…

A random and quick coloring of yesterday’s sketch of Scott … some personal art in between commissions. Please ignore the crappy “background”… 

I decided this is more sunrise than sunset (also an excuse for “wrong” hair… he just got out of bed… who has decent hair after getting up?)

And I have to admit that my crush on Scott Tracy is starting to be problematic XD

anonymous asked:

do you think dylan and eric were ever jealous of each other? love ur blog!

Yes, they were jealous of each other for different reasons. 

In Dylan’s journal entry from November of 1997, he expresses his jealousy of Eric being in a relationship, and feeling left out because of it. At the time, Eric was in a relationship with Sasha, and Zach was with Devon. Meaning, that meant that Dylan was practically the only single one in his group of friends during that time (excluding Nate).

“I have no money, no happiness, no friends … Eric will be getting further away soon…. I’ll have less than nothing … how normal. I wanted to love … I wanted to be happy and ambitions and free & nice & good & ignorant…. everyone abandoned me …”

But then again, Eric may have had more success when it came to women, but Dylan had more success with making friends and maintaining them. This was something that Dylan could do and Eric couldn’t. Which is why Eric almost seemed possessive with Dylan because he was his one only really close friend left, and without Dylan he would have no one. Brooks talks about it in his book here:

“…Eric found excuses to hate me back in junior year because he felt I was threatening his friendship with Dylan…..Eric came from a background of constantly moving around with his family; who knows how many friendships were cut off for him each time? In Dylan, he saw a best friend, and he feared anything that could take that away.”

P.S. and thank you so much for appreciating my blog(: 

Youngest of the Pack

Originally posted by shami1412

Requested by Anon.

Request: Could you do a pack imagine where the reader is the youngest maybe in middle school? And she goes on a date and the pack follow her. Could you just make it really fluffy? 


Being the youngest of the Pack was horrible. Why? Because I could hardly do anything. Scott and them always look out for me, which I appreciate, but they take their job to the next level. Not to mention, I don’t even go to school with them. I’m in middle school. So when we have a Pack meeting, they always act like over protective parents, asking if anybody was bullying me, or if I was getting made fun of. They all made sure that my grades were perfect. It got annoying. 

Tonight, I was going on my first date. I didn’t tell the Pack, worried that they might scare him off. His name is Anthony, and he’s really nice. He was really nervous when he asked me to go to the movies with him. Of course, I said yes. 

I was getting ready to leave when my phone rang. “Hello?” I answered. 

“Hey, Y/N. We were wondering if your parents could drive you over to my place.” Stiles said. “We are going to have a Pack night and watch a movie.”

“Sorry. Can’t. I’m busy.”

“What? It’s not like you have a date or anything?” And Stiles laughed. When I didn’t answer, I could almost see his face. “You have a date tonight?! Who is he? Where does he live? Is he going to try anything? Where are you going?”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re going to the movies. We’re going to go see Wonder Woman.” 

“What? No, no, no. You can’t go.” 

“Too bad. You’re not my dad, Stiles. And besides, I’m getting in the car to go there now. Got to go. Bye.” And without waiting for an answer, I hung up the phone. Little did I know that some friends of mine were on their way to spy on me at the movies.

While Anthony and I were watching the movie, I couldn’t help but feel like somebody was watching me. I ignored it and just hoped that it would go away. It didn’t. I still felt like somebody was staring right at me, watching my every move. Again, I ignored it and thought it would go away at the end of the movie.

When the movie ended, Anthony and I walked hand in hand out of the movie theater. Still I felt like somebody was staring at me, so I turned around. And what I saw, infuriated me to no end. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Malia, Kira, Derek, Liam, and Peter were all hanging in the background. When Liam saw me look at them, he ushered everybody behind the wall. 

I looked at Anthony. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” I walked over to the corner and stood there. I crossed my arms and waited for one of them to poke their head out. Which Stiles did. 

“Oh my goodness!” Stiles jumped back. “Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” 

“Apparently being spied on. Did you guys really have to come and supervise me? What am I? 11?” 

“We just wanted to make sure that you were going to be okay with this boy. He hasn’t tried anything has he?” Scott stepped out. 

“No. Can you please just let me live my own life. I understand that since I’m the youngest, you all want to protect me, but sometimes you cross the line. This is one of those moments. I appreciate everything you do, but can’t I just have one night to myself?” 

“You’re right.” Lydia said. “We just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Thanks. Look, I got to go before he thinks that I ditched him. Bye.” 

“Bye.” They all said in union. And I ran off, hoping that I would have a little but more freedom from now on. 

In case you missed it... Pt 1

Gallavich moment 1: The Meeting– 1x03

This IS your spoiler warning. All of these posts will include spoilers from ALL 7 seasons.

So, something I’m certain is less than palatable for critics is how these two met. I’m certain so many people were turned off by their story because of violence–which is fair! Even the cast portrays the violence in their arc as bigger than it actually is. (SIDENOTE, I am NOT condoning violence of any kind in real life relationships. This is a TV drama that takes place in a world that I personally have no understanding of and I’m certain many of the fans have no understanding of. The premise of the show is that they are living in a ghetto area where the rules are different than the society I know I was raised in, and while this is not an excuse for any form of violence, it explains a lot and demands a sort of bend in typical rules; this is the premise I base my analysis on).

They meet on violent terms and maybe that got people unsettled to begin with? However, in case people missed it: Mickey was chasing Ian/threatening Ian because Mandy lied and told her brothers he raped her. I think this is a pretty realistic reaction for all different kinds of people. A lot of people don’t trust cops to handle situations like this or just feel the need to take matters into their own hands in general.

To remind: Mandy tried to jump Ian who is 100% gay and had no interest in her, and also has 0 backbone for telling  her to kindly fuck off.


When he does put his foot down, she flees the Gallagher house and tells her brother(s) (Mickey) that Ian raped her. Mickey and his brothers then hunt for Ian providing us with two of the most dynamic and effective character introductions on TV.

These shots established two things.

1. Mickey and his brothers are badasses (not in the complimentary way, like literally they are badasses and are not to be fucked with). Now, their introduction is a violent one and obviously we are scared for Ian because *WE* know he didn’t do anything; BUT let’s not get angry at Mickey just yet. He is trying to avenge an alleged sexual assault which he had every reason to believe occurred. The Milkoviches would never go to the police because they are usually the ones being picked up by the police, so could you imagine any of them calling an officer to their aid or any officer who frequents the Milkovich house giving their best effort to help? 

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Yeah, me neither. This is just one example of many that establishes what world they live in–one in which the rules of our perceived society with a foundation of law and order (one in which we call the cops when something goes wrong and can trust that they will/can help) don’t apply. In this world, you handle your problems yourself and often times you handle those problems with violence. If you as an audience member don’t like it, it’s probably because you recognize that it is an accurate depiction of life in neighborhoods like this, and it makes you uncomfortable knowing that there are communities like this. Which is the point.

So here Mickey is taking matters into his own hands to defend his sister (arguably an admirable action). He then spends the whole episode hunting Ian down.

This further shows how devoted he is to the people he loves. Obviously, this is a good and bad thing. Good because fierce devotion is rarely a bad thing and is usually an admirable quality. Bad because when this degree of devotion is bad, it’s usually because of a disregard for limits to what they will do for someone–including having no reservations for breaking the law.

Like tagging, assault, and stalking. The moral standing of this is debatable due to two major factors: 1. Mickey is trying to avenge his sister’s rape (the fact that it didn’t actually happen holds no weight against Mickey because he believed it was true). Had the assault actually happened, I feel like Mickey’s actions in this episode would not have been challenged as strongly. 2. His background. Though it shouldn’t excuse him, it would be an incomplete analysis to ignore how he was raised and how he learned to deal with his problems. If this were real life, these things would never excuse him, though could explain his actions so we would understand them, muddling the morality of the specific actions. I think that is a huge distinction that needs to be made: excusing versus understanding. Hopefully I am not the only person who has encountered people who say and do things that are wrong (though maybe not quite to the degree Shameless sinks to for virtually all of their characters) and while I don’t excuse these actions or statements, I may try to understand their perspective with the hope that some day that perspective will change and these offenses will become fewer and further in-between (as they did with Mickey throughout the series). 

I feel another reason some people don’t receive Mickey well is because he beats up Lip (though let’s face it, the smart mouth was kind of asking for a punch with his comeback about Mandy).

*Note, Karen backing away from him because she knows what’s coming. I mean, who can honestly expect to say something like that to even a reasonable person and not get hit? Say it to the neighborhood thug who scares grown-ass men and you’re not walking away with only a single punch.

 Lip fans may resent him for beating up Lip and scaring Ian just as I resent Ian for leaving Mickey at the border, but I will also understand Mickey’s perspective because the writers had to stay true to the world they live in. 

Finally, the chase is called off when Ian comes out to Mandy who promises not to say anything to anyone, and even offers to be a faux girlfriend so no one gets suspicious. This sparks a friendship that is questionable to say the least, but still one of the better aspects of the show (especially within Ian’s and Mickey’s plotlines). At this point in the show, Mickey and Mandy exist solely as accessory characters for Ian’s plotline, but clearly those roles are important because otherwise I wouldn’t be here typing up this masterpost to counter-argue criticism against Mickey and Gallavich. 

That’s all I’ve got for 1x03, but please feel free to reblog to add anything I may have missed or even counter-argue! Or show some love if you agree. 

Get the whole analysis

The One Next Door: Part 6

A/N: I FINALLY UPDATED THIS ONE!!! I can’t believe it tbh but it was really fun! Yeah this one shall continue!!! :D Hope you guys like it!

Originally posted by younas

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

As you stared at her, she marched over to you, having to pull her purse back onto her shoulder as she walked. Stepping back a bit, you grew worried being alone outside with her. There were still people walking by but no one was going to notice anything.

“You!” she exclaimed, obviously angry with you. “I need you to tell me the truth here,” she sniffled. Her eyes were red and puffy and you already knew why.

“What? I barely know you,” you mumbled, feeling intimidated by her.

“Just let me talk,” she sighed. “I’ve seen you around the apartment. Have you been sleeping around with Yoongi?” she asked you as if she wanted you to say yes and admit things that weren’t true.

“No! I’m your neighbor,” you scoffed, taken aback by her question.

“Don’t lie! There’s no way I’m the guilty one here,” she let out a sob as her eyes welled up with tears.

“What? What happened to you two?” you asked with actual concern behind your voice.

“Like you don’t know,” she rolled her eyes. “He speaks to you more than he ever spoke to me,” she sniffled.

“We spoke but we aren’t that close,” you tried to explain yourself. “I promise you that nothing happened. There shouldn’t be a problem,” you insisted.

“Well, there is. The fact that he seems so innocent is the problem,” she spoke more to herself then to you. Letting a frustrated groan out, she ran her fingers through her hair. Grabbing at her left hand, she snatched your wrist, putting something small in your hand. “Give this to him. I’m not giving up on him but he wanted it.”

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anonymous asked:

why are so many feminists hating on katy perry and saying horrible things? isn't that what we should be stopping?

Well, first of all, Katy Perry is racist. She appropriates and makes fun of other cultures and when she’s criticized she refuses to apologize and just makes excuses. The epitome of white ignorance and privliege. 

Second of all, she’s not very feminist herself since she literally went as far as to sabotage Taylor Swift’s tour in the defense of an abuser. Katy Perry defended John Mayer, who is known for treating women like shit, after Taylor wrote a song about his emotionally abusive behavior and literally stole her background dancers in retaliation instead of standing up for other women. 

Misogynists and racists aren’t protected under feminism.

“You’re not bad for a frat boy.”

for erengayer’s Cruise Control.


holy shit, this is such a sad excuse for a fanart, //sobs. this is from the third installment of the In the Midst of Youth series, which was actually among the first ereri fics i ever read (//yeah, i’m slow, stfu). and i enjoyed it so much that i screamed and convulsed for a bit, left a lengthy incoherent comment (smth bout cafe mocha, ya dig), followed stalked gayer on tumblr, and then made some random claims about future fanart. which i have finally accomplished.
be proud of me.

just ignore the shit goin’ on in back, because wow yeah this is why i don’t do backgrounds.
Model - Nathan Prescott x Reader

{Credit to gif creator} 

Fandom- Life is Strange 

Character- Nathan Prescott {Includes Max Caulfield, Victoria Chase, Kate Marsh, Warren Graham & Mark Jefferson (also mentions other characters)} 

Word Counter- 1199 Words 

Persona- Female 

Warnings- Language. Mentions of depression and self-harm.  

Request- aaa i loved your nathan fics could I request another nathan prescott reader insert where the reader is an artist and asked him to be her model for a painting but he’s kind of annoying about it and changes his facial expressions a lot to mess with her while she paints but its also rlly cute and fluffy or something like that?

It was monday morning, you were tired from staying up late with Victoria and Nathan in Victoria’s dorm, drinking wine and chatting shit to each other. But you loved them both and you loved spending time with them. 

“Headache?” Mr Jefferson’s voice makes your ears ring. You looked up from your notepad and nodded. 

“Do you have some tablets for it?” He asks and you nod, taking them out of your bag. 

You swallowed them with some water and they slowly began to kick in. You loved photography, but drawing and painting was your thing, much like Daniel.

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Pause.

“Hey you’re home!” she greeted me excitedly as she came out of our en-suite and saw me standing by the closet,

“Just walked through the door, relaxing shower?” I smiled back at her while throwing on an old army t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She didn’t answer, but as she crossed the room towards me I could tell that that silence meant yes. She delicately wrapped her arms around my neck and gently pressed her body against mine, our eyes locked together,

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as there seems to be some confusion about this question:

sirius telling snape to go follow remus if he wanted to find out his secret so bad was not part of the marauder pranks.

it was exclusively sirius’ idea and when james found out he ran to bodily drag snape back.

it was obviously an awful idea on sirius’ behalf.

it was sirius finally snapping, then go follow him if you’re so eager to know, after snape’s continuous attempts of uncovering remus’ secret.

it comes across as an impulsive decision to me as obviously sirius didn’t take into account how it would make his friend remus feel if he ended up injuring or killing a human being while in werewolf form, or into how much trouble either of them would get.

it was a fucked up thing to do and you won’t see me defending or excusing it, but i will put it in perspective.

snape was a teenage death eater and sirius had just managed to escape a family of pureblood supremacists, and to claim that he sent snape into a deadly trap simply because he was a bully or a psychopath means to ignore this background.

Face of an Angel Blood of a Demon (Klance shadowhunter!au)

Keith is a skilled shadowhunter with shady past and insane demon-killing skills. Lance is an unsuspecting freshman who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They meet and everything spirals down to madness.


                                                      Chapter 1

“Lance, I am not too sure about this. You know, it’s not too late to order pizza and watch x-files.”

Lance drew in a patient breath and turned to look at Hunk. His friend’s eyes were clouded with worry as he glanced at the long buzzing, buoyant queue that had gathered outside the club’s door. It was freshmen’s week and the student union had been restlessly handing out free drink tickets and club event adverts from morning until afternoon. Every fresher would be in the club, enjoying their first of the many nights to come of independence and young adult wilderness. It was their chance to meet new people, flip over a new chapter.

“Hunk, we can eat pizza and watch x-files any time of the week. Look at these people…” the boy wildly gestured at the laughing, flushed-faced teens in front of them. They looked as if they had had an early start on the beverages, it was ridiculously easy to get alcohol here, even people under the age of twenty one had saw they had a fake ID tucked neatly into their wallets. Fake IDs were a basic college rule. Everyone knew it, no one cared.  “…They are here to have fun, and meet new people. Come on, it’s not like we’ll get the chance to be freshers again. It wouldn’t hurt to see some fresh faces, especially of the attractive kind” Lance suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, an impish grin spreading on his thin face.

Hunk rolled his eyes and awkwardly adjusted his weight from one foot to another. He wasn’t wearing his usual khakis, and he looked rather uncomfortable in his new jeans that were a bit too tight on his rounded calves. “I get it, man. I am just kind of worried about you. Didn’t the doctor say that you ought to stay home and rest…you know, keep your distance from big crowds, especially after what happened”

“I’ll be fine” Lance’s tone was more biting that he had liked to. He dismissively shook his head and revived his boyish smile. “Look, we’ll just take a look at the people we’ll be studying with for the rest of the year, get a drink to loosen up and leave. We don’t have to stay until the club closes. We’ll even have time to get pizza. Sounds like a deal, big guy?”

“Fine” Hunk gave in, and, in Lance’s relief, a small confident smile flickered on his friend’s face. “I guess a drink won’t hurt anyone. But, if things get rough, you’ll let me know, right?” Hunk gave him a look and it was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Yes mom, can I have fun now?”

The queue had finally started thinning out and the closer they got to the door, the more deafening the music got. They could hear the heavy bass of whatever song the DJ played bursting out of the club, filling the otherwise empty street. The security guy was a big man with a balding head, sinking eyes and hung cheeks that made him look like bulldog, he seemed tired, as if he had had his fair share of youngsters for the night. He only gave but a short glance at Lance’s and Hunk’s fake IDs before absent-mindedly nodding and letting them in.

Booming music pulsed in their ears once they stepped into the tight-spaced club. In the dim lighting and dried ice, all Lance could see was bodies clumsily dancing and clinging to one another. He pushed his way in with Hunk following suit. They did their best to avoid stray elbows and people who waved open beer cans like flags over their heads, spilling the cans’ insides on the hair of unsuspecting dancers.

“I am going to go get the drinks!” Hunk had to yell to be heard over the music.

“Great!” Lance yelled right back. “I am going to find where the babes are at!”

Lanced didn’t see him do it, but he was certain that Hunk rolled his eyes.

The dance floor was packed, every single inch was preoccupied by shimmying limbs and Lance had to waddle his way through towards the right corner where the couches were. Despite the sudden rush of adrenaline and heat, it was one of those rare times which Lance felt safe among a crowd. It was like a moving blanket wrapped all around him, keeping him from harm. There were so many of them that Lance was invisible, just another body in a sea of hundreds. It was quite soothing to think that way.

He was on his way to claim one of the empty couches for himself and Hunk when he spotted him. He was dressed in black and casually leaning against the wall, a good distance away from the dance floor. His arms were tightly crossed in front of his chest and he seemed as if he were looking out for something. Lance wasn’t exactly sure what drew him to the lone boy; perhaps it was because he was so desperately out of place, with his stern, perfectly still posture as if he was a guard dog instead of a jaunty teen out to have a good time. Maybe, it was those wicked, dark tattoos that peaked out from the hem of his short-sleeved shirt and cascaded all the way down to his hands. Either way, he was extremely attractive.

He headed towards the hot stranger, his top ten pick-up lines flashing behind his eyes as he approached him.

“Hey…” he drawled, smoothing out his voice. The distance from the dance floor muted the deafening music and Lance, gladly, did not have to shout.

The boy turned to look at him. He had beautiful eyes, a dark hue of a colour that Lance couldn’t put his finger on due to the reflecting club lights. They were finely shaped and accompanied by expressive dark eyebrows that were currently knitted down in annoyance.

“Excuse me?” he cried, leaping back like a cat caught in surprise. Lance saw him staring him up and down as if he was genuinely shocked that he had noticed him.

“You are excused.” Lance grinned, choosing to ignore the boy’s peculiar antics. “So…what’s a pretty boy like you doing hanging out in the background?”

“How can you see me?” the boy had narrowed his eyes now in, if Lance was not mistaken, suspicion? Was he on drugs? He didn’t quite look like it.

“How can I NOT see you? You are pretty hot” Lance light-heartedly replied. “I just saw you hanging out all by yourself, thought you were cute and decided to come and see if you’d like some company”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed even further down, his nose scrunched (he had a very cute nose, Lance noted) as he carefully took a step closer to Lance.

“Have…have we met before?”

“No. Trust me…I would remember meeting you.” Lance carried on, still using his special, flirtatious voice that was a couple of octaves deeper than his normal one.

“Are you a shadowhunter?”

A shadowhunter? What the hell was that? “Well, I don’t know about shadow…but I certainly am a hunter.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows. The boy seemed to regret asking him that question immediately. He took a step back, a cold expression now fixed on his pretty face. He clicked his tongue in irritation.

“Never mind then” he indicated in a biting tone. “Go bother someone else, your flirting sucks” he gave Lance a dismissing look before walking away.

He was just a random boy that Lance had only just met; the reasonably thing for him to was to just roll his eyes and move on. There were plenty of people to meet, plenty of people to flirt with. It was just hurtful being turned down in such a cutting way, even by a weirdo.

Lance frowned, irritated with himself. He was allowing a boy he had only just seen get him down. He shook his head and swallowed down the crushing feeling. It was just a boy and it wasn’t like this was the first time he was turned down cold. Deep inside, he knew his puns were stupid, anyway.

The couches were almost fully occupied by mountains of jackets and coats or couples passionately sucking out each other’s faces. But, Lance managed to find a clean spot at the back. He sat down, hoping that Hunk would spot him in all the havoc. It was kind of depressing, how he sat there, fully sober and alone when on the couch next to him a couple, boy and girl were ready to take things on the next level.

He nervously started tapping his foot on the floor. He shouldn’t been feeling this agitated, not after he had assured Hunk that everything was alright. That he was okay. That he could do this. He’d better cheer up as soon as possible. Where the hell were those drinks?

“Hey”

A soft voice from his right side caused him to jump. Lance turned his head so fast that he felt his neck muscles tensing as they stretched. Next to him, was sitting a smiling boy. Lance wasn’t sure if he hadn’t spotted him before or if the boy had sneaked on the couch while he was brooding.

“Hi” he mouthed back, still startled.

He took a moment to take the boy in. He had a pretty face, like the strange guy from before. But whereas the tattooed boy had a tough, rough on the edges veneer, this guy’s face was soft, laid-back and relaxed, tousled light curls embracing his round face like a halo. He calmly returned Lances’ look, his smile widening.

“You seemed kind of…down the weather” the boy carried on talking. His voice was mellow and warm, and despite the music raging on in the background, it seemed to be the most prominent sound. “I saw you all alone, sitting still and pretty, thought you mind need some company”

“Yeah…” Lance drawled in a daze.

The boy chuckled. God, his laugh sounded just like those tiny Christmas bells his family hanged around the house during Christmas time, dainty and bright. “You are cute” the boy noted.

Lance felt his cheeks flushing. It felt almost absurd being called ‘cute’ by such an angelic face.

“Do you have a name to go with that cute face?”

“It’s L-Lance” he stumbled on his words; it had been a while since Lance had been the target of a good-looking stranger’s flirtatious attempts. It was usually he who initiated it.

“Can I buy you a drink, Lance?”

Drink…wait, wasn’t Hunk supposed to be getting the drinks? Where was he? Shouldn’t be here by now?

“Actually…my friend was supposed to get drinks. He should have been here by now” Lance diverted his attention back to the dance floor, squeezing his eyes in an attempt to spot Hunk among all these people.

“Hey” Lance felt a warm hand on his cheek, slowly forcing his eyes away from the dance floor. He found himself staring at the angel boy’s startling eyes again. He felt a peculiar feeling at the pit of his stomach; an all too familiar warmth overwhelmed him, it felt as if he were sitting in his house, all cozied up in a blanket with a warm cocoa in hand.

“Don’t worry. Your friend is fine.”

Lance believed him. His voice was so soft yet convincing.

“It’s getting a bit stuffy in here” The boy complained, lifting his free hand to tuck a curl behind his ear. Lance’s fingers itched to reach out and touch his hair. It was probably as soft and smooth as silk, like his voice.

“I need some fresh air” this time his lanky fingers moved down to unbutton the front of his shirt, revealing a slender neck, pale in the dim lighting of the club. Lance was starting to get hot, too, now.

“Will you walk me out, Lance?”

He smiled at him and Lance couldn’t seem to be able to look away.

“Sure” the answer dripped from his tongue unconsciously. He stood up, alongside with the boy. He took hold of Lance’s hand and Lance felt his heart jolt into his chest, everything else seemed to fade away, the music, the dance floor, even his concern for Hunk’s whereabouts. Lance’s eyes were fixed on the back of the boy’s curly head and before he realised it, he was led through the crowd outside the back door of the club.

The chilly September air hit his face and Lance shivered, roughly reminded of the fact that he had forgotten to bring a jacket with him. The boy let go of his hand, depriving him of his warmth. He looked around him; they were on the narrow alley right behind the club. It was where the club and the Chinese take away next door dumped their trash.  It was dark, cold and he and the boy were the only ones in sight.

Lance was about to remark on the strange choice of ‘fresh air’, when he felt the softest pair of lips plastering against his own. Arms slithered around his waist, pushing him back against the cold, humid wall. The boy’s warm body pressed against his, grinding his hips against Lance’s pelvis as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Lance’s mouth.

Lance felt giddy, it did not matter how cold and disgusting the wall behind him felt, he had never been kissed like that, like he was the only living person in this world worth to be kissed. All those lukewarm kisses he had awkwardly shared in the past…this was different, strong and passionate and the boy knew exactly how to move his tongue and hands in rhythm.

He felt lightheaded, his surrounding fading away as he shut his eyes, indulging him in the moment. Suddenly, his knees started buckling like jelly and the dizziness begun making him more uncomfortable. He stirred in the boy’s arms, but he kept kissing him…no he wasn’t kissing him anymore, he was sucking him. Lance couldn’t breathe, he tried to move away but the boy’s hands were clung onto him like vice, keeping him in place. He moaned and tried to bite him but his whole face felt numb.

Cold, paralyzing fright crushed his chest. The boy’s arms where the only things keeping him in place, his legs were useless, unable to move, it was as if his whole supply of energy was slowly being sucked out of him, black spots started flashing before his eyes. His lungs were ready to explode from the lack of oxygen; the black spots were getting larger and thicker. He was going to black out, all because he had been stupid enough to be lured by a pretty face.

Helplessly, he remained there, eyes wide in horror and waiting for his lungs to give up when suddenly, the swishing sound of a blade penetrated his ears. The boy cried out in pain and stumbled back. Lance collapsed on the street, his legs unable to hold his weight, his chest was puffing and his heart was pumping as his lungs hungrily breathed much needed air.

He averted his gaze and in his great horror, he saw the boy, the front of his shirt was splashed with blood, a nail-like blade stuck out of the centre of his chest. Lance felt panic rising like bile, he wanted to scream for help. But his mouth felt dry and the only thing that came out was a pathetic whimper.

“Fucking shadowhunter” the boy’s voice was no longer soft and inviting. It was rough and hoarse and it echoed in the alley. With a jerk of his hand he plunged out the nail and threw it aside. “Where are you little shadowhunter?” his eyes were now glowing red, maliciously narrowed as he turned around, searching for someone, probably whoever had pierced him with that blade…something that should have killed him. Lance recoiled against the wall. This couldn’t be happening to him. Had he been drugged? But how could he? He hadn’t drunk a single drop.

“…what a pain in the ass, don’t you know it’s rude to disturb one’s meal?” the boy growled. A black figure lunged out of the shadows and landed upon the boy who was knocked down on his back.

The black figure straightened up, a small black blade in his hands. Lance’s eyes widened as he realised that his rescuer was the mysterious tattooed guy he had tried to unsuccessfully hit on in the club.

“Aw, there you are…” the boy staggered back onto his feet, his hands covering the right side of his face. Steam and a black tar-like substance oozed out from his wound. The boy lowered his hand and Lance’s stomach turned. The tattooed guy had managed to slice the whole right side of his face, leaving a thick scar behind. On the periphery of the scar, the flesh was peeled back, like a banana leaf and the tar that kept seeping out of the wound burned the flesh away as if it were a plastic mask (it certainly smelled like it). Even more steam vapored from his face, or whatever was left of it because as it cleared, the angel boy had turned into a horrid creature. His pretty face had morphed into a coal-burned, wrinkly mask, as dry and rough as the bark of a tree, his curly locks were replaced by black, twisted horns spiking out of his skull and his hypnotizing eyes were now two burning red orbs glaring at the tattooed guy.

“Prepare to meet your demise, shadowhunter” his voice was scratchy and fiendish, like chalk scratching against a blackboard.

The tattooed boy, the shadowhunter, remained calm at the threats of this creature. He leaped into the air again, jumping higher than an average person should be able to. He began attacking, thrusting into the air to deliver curt and quick attacks, he moved as flexibly as a cat, thrashing his short blade through the creature while avoiding its own vicious attacks. This whole scene looked like something from a Spiderman film and Lance was absolutely terrified.

He wanted to get up, crawl back into the club and leave as fast as he could so he could go home and pretend that none of these had ever happened. Because, this, what he was currently seeing, could not be happening, not in real life. God, why was he always on the receiving end of the world’s freakishness? Hadn’t he gone through enough, already?

The creature let out a hair-rising screech of pain. The shadowhunter’s blade had pierced through the side of his neck. He plunged it out, and a waterfall of black tar cascaded down from the wound. The creature’s limbs started disappearing and dissolving into grey dust when, finally there was nothing left of it. Not even an ounce of black blood.

Lance watched as the boy tucked the small blade back into his thigh holster, his attention turning to him as he approached him. Unconsciously, Lance attempted to crawl back, pressing himself even harder against the wall.

“Are you hurt?” he could hear the panting in his voice from the intense fight with…whatever that creature was.

Lance shook his head, still unable to fathom what had just happened to him.

“Can you get up?” he carried on.

Lance pressed a hand against the wall and focused whatever ounce of energy he was left into standing up. His legs dangerously wobbled before he had a chance to straighten himself and he lost balance, he fell forwards, but the boy was ready for him. He caught him before he fell, straightening him up and wrapping a strong arm around his waist.

“I guess that’s a no” he mumbled. “Put your arm around my shoulder”

Lance didn’t comply.

“What’s wrong?” the boy asked, irritation lacing his voice.

What’s wrong? Oh nothing at all…Lance was merely just attacked by some sort of monster that sucked him dry of energy and almost killed him and then watched a weird guy with tattoos and a blade slay that monster which dissolved into bloody dust. Nothing was wrong, nothing at all.

“I don’t even know who you are…how do I know you won’t…do anything, like turn into a monster and try to eat me” he managed to respond, his voice barely audible.

“I wouldn’t go into all the trouble of saving you just to kill you, would I?” the boy impatiently pointed out. “And my name is Keith. I am here to help you. The thing that just attacked you is a demon…a life-sucking kind of demon. Had I not been here in time, he would have sucked all the life out of you and left you for dead.”

A demon? A life-sucking demon…what the hell was going on? Lance could feel his heart beat spiralling out of control, his breathing getting more rapid. He managed to hold down his panic. He couldn’t have a meltdown right now. Obligingly, he wrapped his arm around the boy’s, Keith’s, shoulder and let him lead him out of the alley.

They stopped outside the Chinese takeaway ship, its florescent lights blazing through the blurry glass with the faded letters reading “The Dragon’s nest”.

“You need to eat to get your energy back” Keith explained before Lance had a chance to question him. They stumbled into the shop, Lance still clinging onto Keith. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and not completely lean against Keith.

There was a middle aged man behind the counter who glanced at them strangely but said nothing. He was working next to a night club, he had probably seen weirder things than a placid looking teen being carried by another bloodied, tattooed teen.

“You’re here to order?” he asked.

“A large chicken lo main, please”

“That’d be 5.50 dollars”

“Do you have money, I didn’t bring any.”  

“Back-pocket” Lance mouthed, getting dizzier by the second.

Keith lowered his arm from Lance’s waist down to the back pocket of his jeans and reached for the wallet inside.

“Easy there, big guy” Lance breathed out.

Keith snorted. “You never stop, do you?” He snatched the wallet out and fumbled until he found some cash. He paid the middle-aged man and they both watched him as he retired to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, Lance was sat on the pavement of the Chinese shop, wolfing down the noodles as if he had never had food in his life before. Keith was silently sitting beside him, staring at the road as if he expected another demon to appear. Demons…Lance still couldn’t swallow that part down.

“You look better now, at least you don’t look like a ghost” Keith remarked.

“I always look dashing” Lance retorted, mouth full of noodles.

“Yup, you are fine” He stood up. He began to walk away.

“Wait!” Lance jumped. “Will I ever see you again?” he asked.

“If you are lucky, you won’t” Keith gave him one last nod. Lance watched him walked into the empty streets, until he disappeared into the shadows.

He stood there for a second, with a finished cup of noodles in his hands before he remembered…

Hunk. Shit.


 —-

@i-write-shakespeare-not-disney   I finally finished the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this. 

All this weird racial resentment stuff confuses and angers me. Theatre and Sociology degrees aside - I honestly don’t consider myself to be a particularly enlightened individual by any means. I’m a mulatto, grew up in a predominately white area in small-town PA. My parents made me read the Arts & Leisure section of The New York Times and my mother encouraged us to watch foreign films from time to time but aside from them that….I don’t come from a very cultured or sophisticated background, wasn’t really exposed to other cultures outside of books, films, etc. during my adolescence. Yet I instinctively knew that bigotry, racism, prejudice, etc. were fundamentally evil.

I see a lot of people making excuses for people who subscribe and/or sympathize with Nazism and white supremacy - these people are just ‘frustrated’ feel ‘left behind’ and are maybe a tad (just a tad) ignorant. That somehow absolves these people and these viewpoints. It doesn’t. You don’t have to have a Masters degree in anthropology to know that waving Confederate flags and Nazi flags are wrong and immoral. So enough with apologizing for these people and call them out for what they really are  - Unamerican bigots and racists.

It’s not that hard.

anonymous asked:

Rosy, hi! You're really experienced and intelligent person, so I want to know your idea - do you think reverse racism exists?

Racism, as we speak about it today, is not just the belief that one race is superior over another, but is actually a system of institutionalized bigotry and oppression that has been legally and culturally tied to one’s race, and it goes back to when they decided that American slavery was not just an economic system where one, of any color, worked and eventually won free of slavery, but was a way to dehumanize black people, and turn them into things to be owned by the nature of their very color, extending it down to their children. Black=property. No longer human. Things.

This system continues on today, long after slavery is gone. It can be seen in the prison system, education, the law, medicine, housing, economics, the media, and just about every one of our cultural institutions. Black people are, still today, a permanent underclass BECAUSE of our racist history with slavery.

Racism is *the system* that is set into place to create a society that dominates according to race. It is a product of bigotry and xenophobia and closely tied to classism and misogyny, and is also part of our economic system.

Reverse racism, as it’s used, is meant to accuse minority people of bigotry against white people, the dominant race. But if we’re looking at racism as a system that uses race based bigotry to oppress the minority population, then no. Reverse racism does not exist. Because the minority people do not have enough political, economic or social power to oppress the dominant white people.

There is no “reverse racist” system. Therefore, reverse racism is an argument that is rather insulting and made up to silence minorities when they speak out against racism. So stop that. Racism is a white problem. It is white oppression of minority people based on their race. Time to stop blaming it on the minorities who are being oppressed and looking for excuses to ignore it. 

Can minority people be racist? Yes. There is a lot of racism within the minority community. Not everyone is the same race, first of all. And there is also racism based on skin color and hair texture and features and background etc. And there is also quite a bit of internalized racism. Racism is an ugly business and we are all, white, black, asian, native, latinx, mixed and other, affected by racism.

Can minority people be bigoted against white people? Absolutely. Can their bigotry be based in race? Absolutely. It is not “reverse racism.” It’s bigotry. In some definitions, it might even be described as “racism,” in the way that it is hate based entirely on race, but because in our current conversation racism is the SYSTEM OF OPPRESSION, it’s probably clearer and more precise to call it race based bigotry. Unless you want to be an asshole. A lot of people who use the term “reverse racism” do want to be assholes, and there’s no reason for us to pretend that’s not what it’s about. If you don’t want to be an asshole and want to actually open up a conversation about race and whiteness DO NOT USE THE TERM “REVERSE RACISM.”

We’re all a part of this racist, bigoted, angry society, and none of us are free from the evils of it. And for some reason so many of us feel justified in spreading hate based on race, skin color, background, nationality, ethnicity blah blah blah blah. It sucks. It makes nothing better. Ever.