literally on repeat right now and i find nothing wrong with that

skam fic rec masterpost

so i love reading fic, its like my favorite pass time and that’s all i’ve been doing for the past three months so here’s a huge fic rec list of some fics that i have read and am currently reading and im in love with

big thanks to fic writers! yall are amazing and so important to the fandom <3

a lot of these authors are also on tumblr im sure but i don’t have all the urls so i’m gonna put the ao3 usernames for now. please if you’re on tumblr and would like your url to be in this instead of your ao3 username, just holla at me and ill change it! <3

(ps i’m so sorry i had to shorten up the summaries on some of them so it wouldnt be too long!!)

(pps i update this very frequently as i read so feel free to come back from time to time to look for any new fics!)

make sure you read the trigger warnings for some fics as they can get angsty

okay here we go :) happy reading <3

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Gil’s Story Is My Nightmare

You know, it normally takes weeks if not months for my feelings to settle on a subject relating to fiction. Like, my first time through, it’ll wash over me, I’ll consider it a while, and then, eventually, I’ll come to a conclusion.

But Gil’s story rubbed me wrong on first run, and I easily figured out why.

Gil’s story is my nightmare as a gay man.

I know I’m not the first to sum it up, but I am SO frustrated and pissed off by this (and Mass Effect Andromeda’s handling of M/M relationships in general), I need to work it out of my system.

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rocknrollphanda  asked:

Could you maybe make a list of your favorite 8th year drarry? I read Lumos and now I need more so I was wondering if you had anything worth recommending ;D?

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:8905

Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan.

Battle Scars by SeaweedPrincess Words:29831

Spiders, rats, wrongly-boiled Veritaserum, a couple of dangerous bets and drunk parties – all with all, it was bound to be a hectic eight year at Hogwarts for the golden trio. Trying to ignore the ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, however, turned out to be more difficult than ever before. Especially when he seemed to be as obsessed with Harry as Harry was with him. DRARRY. SLASH. Rating may go up in future chapters.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:21139

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that’s ever so cross.

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster Words:16024

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

Lumos by birdsofshore Words:41478

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Zero to Hero by Cheryl Dyson Words: 10,632

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his “8th year” in order to pass his N.E.W.T.s and make it into the Auror program. One of his classes is Muggle Studies and the new teacher has a brilliant idea to help them appreciate certain forms of Muggle entertainment.

The Ties That Bind Us by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:27890

An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

Matters of Influence by anathema91 Words:19198

Draco should have taken his NEWTs over the summer with Pansy and Greg. Repeating 7th year with Potter fresh off his saved-the-world tour struck Malfoy as the height of stupidity more than once. McGonagall’s diabolical plan only made things worse. Or did it?

A Time to Move On by SESHETA_66 Words:15500

With the war behind them, and wounds still raw, the students at Hogwarts try to work out what their futures might hold for them, and perhaps recapture a little of their lost youth along the way.

Lucky Break by naturegirlrocks Words:4700

The day before Halloween Harry crashes into Draco during a friendly quidditch match. Hidden secrets come to light.

An Old Habit by fireflavored Words:8800

The boys have changed a lot over the summer after the war, but Harry hasn’t gotten over the urge to spy on Malfoy.

Simulacrum by slashpervert Words:3011

Draco sends a gift to Potter and finds himself in a difficult but erotic position.

Snowstorms and Interventions by fr333bird Words:9095

Draco is pining after Harry, but is so sure that his feelings aren’t reciprocated that he wastes a golden opportunity. Pansy comes to the rescue and takes matters into her own hands to ensure a happy ending.

Marginal Notes by blamebrampton Words:9398

When you’re 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking.

An Act of Simple Devotion by blamebrampton Words:13368

It’s a age-old story. You fancy a boy and you think he fancies you. Sure there are problems – attacks on former Death Eaters, crazed tabloid journalists and your girlfriend – but you have a cunning plan. Now if he’d only explain the L. Ron Hubbard-like references …

Say Anything by alovelycupoftea Words:6000

When Draco loses his reserve and starts speaking his mind, Harry realises something is very wrong.

Deserving by Cassis Luna Words:2612

From the prompt: “What if one day everyone was brewing Amortentia and Harry walks in. Of course, he doesn’t know what they’re brewing, so the first thing he says is ‘Why does the room smell like it’s drenched in Malfoy’s cologne’ and then everyone, including Draco, just looks at him.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill Words:73173

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

Games Night by agentmoppet Words:6805

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much… tension?

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:20427

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Days Before You Came by panicparade Words:5476

Ten days before the end of his Eighth year at Hogwarts is when Harry realises that he probably, maybe, loves Draco Malfoy.

Who I Really Am by agentmoppet Words:8541

Draco seems to have changed since the war, and is insisting on making amends for his actions. But he’s still a Malfoy, for heaven’s sake… And, it would seem, a Malfoy with a certain kink…

The Standard You Walk Past by bafflinghaze Words:46201

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

Good Company by Greenflares Words:8223

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry’s return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn’t exactly fun. Somehow, it’s his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Instruction For A Misplaced Slytherin by bixgirl1 Words:8579

Potter stared at him with an intense, indecipherable expression. He cleared his throat. “You know what? It would be easier to learn if you just showed me,” he said abruptly.

In which Draco has a crush but fancies himself kind, Harry is oblivious but overly ambitious (and the teensiest bit sneaky), and things get dirty really fast.

Slammed by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:2038

Potter develops a worrying habit of randomly wall-slamming Draco all over the castle.

Mental by sara_holmes Words:186678

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

‘Ohana by plumeria47 Words:11717

It started off so simple: sex whenever they wanted it, with no further expectations. But life has a funny way of turning everything up on its head.

This Is Fine by yesbocchan Words:3177

Eighth years have their own rooms at Hogwarts. It’s nice, Draco thinks, until he starts to notice the fact that Potter’s room is just in front of his.

The Morning After The Night Before by Oakstone730
Words:3599

Waking up after the Hufflepuff New Year’s Eve Party is an eye-opening experience for Draco. Prompt: Walk of Shame. Eighth Year. Warnings: Slash, Explicit, Language.

He Had Time by jeni_andtheafterthought Words:689

Harry stays up late alone in the eighth year common room until one night, Malfoy joins him.

Alive by FleetofShippyShips Words:3185

After the war, Harry is just angry, until finally, he’s not.

Vanilla and Sweet Spices by FleetofShippyShips Words:19699

After the others leave an eighth year party, Harry still has the rum he snagged off Dean. But the only person left to drink it with is Draco Malfoy.

Making Malfoy Blush by FleetofShippyShips Words:18320

Malfoy walks in on Harry in the showers after Quidditch and is surprisingly flustered. Spying the chance to embarrass him, Harry teases him at every opportunity to bring that blush back.

It’s all harmless winks and lip biting, and maybe a few heated looks; until it’s a kiss, and then another, and then Harry realises he never wants to stop.

If only Malfoy was as clear about what he wants.

The LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna Words: 21436

It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. HPDM, oneshot, eighth year.

The Potter-Malfoy Problem by who_la_hoop Words:28939

The room of requirement’s gone mad — at least, that’s what Harry thinks. There’s no way that Draco Malfoy ‘requires’ him, of all people, but why does it keep dragging Harry there like he’s some kind of furniture, every time Malfoy enters it? Throw in Pansy the pervert and a clipboard-wielding Hermione, and things can only go from bad to worse. And that’s not even mentioning the pirates …

At Your Service by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:95752  

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

ENJOY!

angel on fire

Summary: Your job was supposed to be simple: watch over Steve Rogers. Never did it occur to you that someone else would attempting to corrupt him. || demon!bucky x angel!reader || oneshot (?)

Warnings: smut and all that entails it ends kinda abruptly though, shitty ending, cursing, mentions of blood/violence, dub consent(??????), overuse of the name angel 

Notes: @sanjariti helped me with the title lol, its from a halsey song, im sorry this is terrible

Originally posted by injectablefame712

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anonymous asked:

hc where dan is a new teacher at a school and he's v shy and he has a crush on the principle (aka phil) who's all professional and orderly and Phil goes in to dans class to watch him teach and do one of those evaluation things and Phil notices how flustered dan gets when they make eye contact and they fuck after class

Dan’s a good teacher. That’s what he’s worked for for years, right? Endless hours of schooling, to be a high school teacher at a somewhat-prestigious private school.

He smiled a lot, and was a good listener. He wasn’t the favorite teacher, or the cool one necessarily, but he was a good one. Even though he’d stutter and blush whenever the principle came within twenty feet of him.

Dan sighed, shuffling some papers on his desk. He was tired; he had gotten to school early to work, and he hadn’t even had coffee yet. He looked up when a boy walked in; a scrawny student with glasses, his nickname was Georgie and he loved Dan.

Dan tried to smile, running his fingers through his messy hair. “Hey Georgie,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Early again?”

The boy nodded. “I need to study for the test today.”

Oh. That’s right, the test.

“Mmh, that’s smart of you,” Dan muttered, pushing the stack of papers to the side of his desk.

“Professor,” he started, stepping forward and tilting his head to the side. “You know about the inspection, right? You don’t look very prepared…” Georgie pointed to the mess on Dan’s desk; the scattered papers and piled up coffee cups.

Dan frowned, his heart dropping. “Inspection…? I didn’t hear about an inspection…”

The boy raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, the check up for the teachers today. The principle’s coming around during class…” he trailed off.

Dan’s eyes widened. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “Oops. I didn’t cuss, don’t tell your parents.” Georgie giggled.

He hadn’t known. Why had no one told him?

They probably had. He had been rather spacey recently.

“Well I’m screwed,” Dan mumbled, biting his lip. “Georgie, would you mind helping me clean up a bit…? I’ll give you extra credit…”

The boy nodded immediately, slinging off his bag and tossing it on the nearest desk.

“Sir?” Georgie smirked slightly, helping Dan with some of the mugs. “Do you have a crush on Mr. Lester?”

Dan immediately flustered, his face going red. “A crush? N-No, of course not, it’s… I wouldn’t call it a crush…” Dan swallowed, stumbling over his words. “You w-wouldn’t understand.”

Georgie rolled his eyes, straightening his glasses. “Whatever you say, professor.”

The rest of the day, Dan was a mess. He was sweaty and his hands were shaking, and he stuttered far too much.

The students were noticing; a few times one of them would raise their hand and ask what was wrong, and Dan would just deflect it. He couldn’t mess this up; he actually liked this job, he liked the kids. And it would hurt to be fired by the literal most attractive man he’d ever seen.

Damn it, he needed to get it together.

His literature class was the last to be inspected, which just made it worse. When the door finally quietly opened and shut and Phil Lester stepped through, Dan actually jumped.

“Uh, great,” he breathed, flashing the man a shaky smile and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “Guys, your principle is here to check me out.” He instantly realized what he had said, and his face went magenta. “Er, I didn’t mean…” he let his face fall into his hands; some of the kids laughed, and one whistled. “Nevermind.”

Phil chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “It’s fine, Mr. Howell. Don’t worry, nothing too serious, I’m just here to observe.” He made a motion with his hand for Dan to continue. “Go on. Don’t mind me.”

The problem was, Dan did mind him. He was in the corner of his vision, in his fucking sexy tie and that look on his face…

Dan was sweating, and he stumbled over his words more than a few times, once even forgetting what he was saying all together.

He was a hot mess the whole time, and that’s why he wasn’t surprised when Phil stayed where he was after all of the students had trailed from the room.

Dan sighed, facing him and offering him a tight lipped smile.

“I’m sorry… that wasn’t the best class I’ve taught, I’ve been sick…”

Phil held out his hand, stopping him. “Please don’t worry, Mr. Howell. You’re not in trouble. I just have to ask you something.”

Dan frowned, his nerves getting the best of him, his stomach flipping. “Yes?”

Phil set down his clipboard, and straightening his glasses. “Are you scared of me, Dan?”

Dan raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question. “Scared… of you…?” Dan repeated.

Phil nodded, taking off the glasses and setting them down, stepping forward, and Dan’s breath caught.

“I couldn’t help but notice how nervous you looked,” Phil said calmly, and Dan swore he saw the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Your eyes kept… flickering to me, and you’d get distracted. Are you intimidated by me?”

Dan bit his lip, keeping Phil’s gaze, trying not to show how much of an effect he had on him.

“Was I? I suppose I’m just nervous about my job, I like working here…” he trailed off, sighing at the skeptical look on Phil’s face. “Okay. You caught me.” He laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I have a tiny crush on you, it’s silly.”

Phil raised one eyebrow, stepping closer again, backing him against the desk. Now Dan was positive he was smirking, just the tiniest bit, and it was attractive as hell.

“Is that so?” He asked, his voice going low, and Dan’s eyes widened.

“Yes?” Dan squeaked, and cleared his throat. Phil chuckled.

“Well I don’t find that silly, Mr. Howell. It’s actually quite flattering.” He placed his hands on either side of Dan, leaning against the desk, effectively trapping him against the wood.

“Oh yeah?” Dan breathed. This was definitely a move. His heart skipped a beat, and he let his eyes flicker from Phil’s eyes to his lips. If he kissed him, Dan would pass out.

Phil smiled crookedly. “Yes. And if I’m being completely honest, I have the smallest crush on you as well.”

Dan’s face tinted even more pink, and he bit his lip. “R-Really?”

“Yes…” Phil drew a line up Dan’s jaw with his finger, hooking it under his chin and smirking. He moved close enough to Dan’s ear that he could feel his breath against his skin. “I think you’re cute. But you won’t let that distract you, will you professor?”

Dan swallowed, and Jesus, this was turning him on.

“No, of c-course not, sir,” Dan breathed, stifling a moan as Phil’s breath brushed his neck.

“Mmh,” Phil hummed in approval, and Dan could practically taste his grin. “Good boy.” And then Phil’s lips were against Dan’s throat, sucking gently, and Dan lost it.

His hands flew up, grasping at Phil’s shirt, and he let out a quiet whimper-moan combination. Phil chuckled, letting his hands fall to Dan’s waist and pulling him closer.

Dan threw his head back, giving Phil more access and whining as he bit down on Dan’s most sensitive spots. It was crazy how he knew all the places that would make Dan weak, when he hadn’t even touched him before.

“If we’re still being honest,” Phil growled under his breath, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Dan’s hair and pulling his head back. “I’ve wanted to do this since you started working here.”

Dan moaned from the combination of the words and the rough gesture. “Please…” he whined, squirming against Phil’s touch.

Phil smirked, nipping at a spot right under Dan’s ear. “Please what, baby?”

“I want you,” Dan muttered in response, hooking his fingers in Phil’s belt loops and pulling him closer so their hips were pressed together. “Please, Phil.”

Phil grinned, pulling Dan forward by the shirt and kissing him open mouthed. Dan kissed back immediately, letting Phil take control, moaning against his mouth as Phil slipped his tongue into Dan’s, gripping his waist.

Phil’s hands roamed Dan’s body and soon it was frantic, kissing him roughly and touching everywhere he could reach. Dan whimpered, bucking his hips into Phil’s, making Phil groan and hold him still, grinding against him.

Phil pulled back, his hair messy and his eyes flashing with pure lust.

“Clothes off,” he growled, moving over to the door and locking it.

Dan hurried to pull his jeans down when he collected himself, kicking them away as well as his shoes, tugging his sweater over his head. When Phil got back he kissed Dan again, loosening his tie.

“Pants,” he muttered, an order, and Dan nodded, falling to his knees and working at Phil’s zipper. He tugged them down, mouthing at the visible bulge in his boxers.

Phil groaned, tangling his fingers in Dan’s hair with one hand and using the other to unbutton his shirt.

“Jesus, Dan,” he breathed. “You’re good with your mouth.”

Dan looked up at him, grinning and standing, pushing Phil’s shirt the rest of the way off. “Thanks.”

Phil pushed him back against the desk, kissing him hotly and grabbing at his ass, grinding against him. Dan moaned, a high pitched whine falling from his lips.

“Do you have…?”

“Yes,” Dan said immediately, moving to dig through the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a condom and then a small bottle of lube. Phil raised his eyebrows, and Dan shrugged. “What, I masterbate a lot,” he mumbled, coming back and wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck.

Phil smirked, kneading his ass and making Dan squeak. “Do you think about me?”

“Hell yeah,” Dan answered, breathless. “Now fuck me.”

Phil nodded, silently flipping Dan around, bending him over the desk. “Impatient,” he muttered, tutting and smoothing his hand over Dan’s ass.

Dan whimpered, burying his face in his arms and pushing back. “Please, sir, more.”

Phil tugged Dan’s boxers down swiftly, digging his nails into the soft flesh.

“Of course, babe,” he growled, pressing Dan’s face against the desk.

It didn’t take long to stretch him; Dan whined and pushed back on his fingers, transformed into a horny submissive teenager by Phil’s touch. It was adorable, and Phil could feel himself getting harder by the second.

Soon enough Dan was stretched enough, and Phil hurried to roll on the rubber and lube himself up, the anticipation in his stomach building.

He placed one hand firmly on Dan’s lower back and one was tangled in his hair, tugging as he pushed in without warning.

Dan cried out, muffling his moans of desperation by biting down on his hand. Phil groaned at the tight heat surrounding him, bottoming out slowly and digging his nails into Dan’s skin.

“So good,” he breathed huskily, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in. “So fucking good, Dan, so tight- look so good underneath me…”

Dan moaned, loud and feminine; Phil was a talker, and fuck, that turned him on. Phil snapped his hips suddenly, thrusting hard, filling Dan up completely and making him scream. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuck-! Phil, fuck, harder-!” He felt Phil press his face into the desk harder, and he practically drooled, panting desperately.

Phil listened to him, speeding up his thrusts and fucking into him rough. He rolled his hips, groaning and gripping Dan’s hips.

“Fuck, Dan-” he moaned, lining himself up to Dan’s body to kiss down the back of his neck as he thrust into him. “Oh Jesus, you feel so good.”

He sped up as much as he could, the only noises in the room being Dan’s noises of pleasure as well and Phil’s groans, and the slapping of skin.

Dan nearly screamed as Phil pounded into his prostate over and over again, hitting him in just the right spots, and he could feel himself getting close.

He came without warning, over the desk, his moans loud as ever and high pitched and whiny.

Phil made a noise low in his throat at Dan’s sudden change of pitch, and the tightening around his cock, and came into him with one last thrust.

The next day, Dan wore a turtleneck to class.

The key to love, my father told me, was to never love someone more than they love you. So when, after dating for five months, Christopher Moore was the first to say “I Love You”, I thought I had hit the “Love Jackpot”. I say this because, prior to him saying it at that very moment, I had never given thought to the possibility that I could love him in return. Standing in front of my apartment building, nervous and excited, facing him and his smile, I questioned whether love was the word to describe what I was feeling. High school love, after all, is quite trivial with it’s ins and outs. Nevertheless after weighing the theoretical pros and cons of love, I decided that I was in love, at least in some respects. He was handsome, smart, sweet, and I enjoyed his company. This is what I believed love boiled down to; four factors. Honesty, clearly, was something I overlooked. About a year and 7 months into our blissful love affair, after graduation had passed and we had spent the summer taking all the cliché couple pictures, Chris decided that he “just couldn’t go on lying to me anymore. “Jenine” he told me “this guilt is eating me alive!”. I imagine there wasn’t much of him left, as it had been “eating away at him” for 6 months. This is when I learned that there is no “key” to love; no guide, no tips, no 101 course, because love is lived and learned; never taught. Try as you may, to forgo the pain of love, you’ll find joy in knowing that it’s survive-able and moreover, sometimes the good outweighs the bad. No, Chris wasn’t the love of my life, but he gave life to my ability to love.

“Never” my father said “let love override your faculty of reason.” Easier said, than done. My next love was Jeremy Bishop. Before you ask, of course there were others between Chris and Jeremy. But this is a story about love; not “almost loves”,“semi loves”, and “could’ve beens”. Jeremy’s love was the worst kind of love. The kind that doesn’t have a reason to exist but somehow it does and you’re glad. Its sole purpose is to debilitate your mind, forcing you to follow only your emotions. While Jeremy was dreamy, I learned that the man of your dreams can sometimes be the root of your nightmares.

I met Jeremy my junior year at _________ University. It was a Sunday and I had been studying in the library for an anthropology midterm and decided that I would take a break. Putting my highlighter down & flexing my hand I stood up & headed towards the bathroom. As I walked through the stacks, passing my hand across the rows of books I’d never read, my friend Denise spotted me and waved me over. Walking swiftly I made my way to the table she was stationed it & gathered that she had been studying all day as all. Splayed papers, open textbooks, two highlighters, & her laptop with several window open screamed “cram session” to me. After having sat & talked for some time about school & it’s “scammagry”, I noticed that someone had taken a seat at the end of the table. You know those typical movies where two people look up at the same time & smile coyly at one another? Well that’s what happened with us…….minus the smiling. When Jeremy & I caught eyes it was more of an inquisitive stare down. I relented because who really stares at a stranger for lengths at a time? Apparently Jeremy does because every time I looked up he was looking at me or perhaps through me. Whatever the case was I asked Denise if she could “Excuse me for one second?” as I got up from my seat and sauntered over to Jeremy, running my fingernails along the wooden table that both separated and joined us.

He was brown skinned but it was a rich brown that I often found myself lost in. He had brown hair that was cut low to avoid maintenance & also to spite his mother who so much loved it longer. His eyes were almost black they were so dark, yet you never asked someone to hit the lights when staring into them. He had a slight dimple on the right side of face that only presented itself in the presence of his mother, its creator.

“I know you or something?” I said, to which he looked up & responded “No you don’t. But since you’re already here, I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you….” he said moving his hand in that circular waiting motion “this is usually the part where you tell me your name”. He was sarcastic & forthcoming and I liked it. “This is usually the part when I’d say Jenine. My name is Jenine. Though I’m not sure it’s nice to meet you.” “Well Jenine, do you have HIST 256 on Mondays & Thursdays? I think that’s where I’ve seen you before.” “Well Jeremy, had I known you were a stalker I would’ve stayed at the other end of the table” “A stalker Jenine? Really? I think you’re mistaking my keen eye for details.” “I stand corrected then. I just had no idea I was noticeable to your "keen eye”, I said, making air quotes. He leaned in & said, “Maybe Jenine, just maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know. I’d be happy to fill you in though. If you were ever free.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me, Jeremy, that you’re asking me out.” “It seems that way, because it is that way. But enough with this, would you be interested in going out?” “I’ll contemplate it.”

A week later Jeremy picked me up in his beat up silver 2010 Toyota Corolla. Got out & offered to close the door for me not because he was a gentleman but because I literally couldn’t close it myself. He told me he wanted to show me his favorite place in all of Brooklyn. We drove for about 15 mins and parked in DUMBO; my favorite place. As we walked to the pier he barraged me with every menial question from favorite color to top five movies. I stopped his questioning because I realized I knew nothing about him. “What about you?” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I’m a Taurus. Now back to you.” “Your sign. You gave me the third degree and in return you tell me your astrological sign??” “I’m really not that interesting. I kind of just go with the flow nothing special really.” “I could say the same about myself but you don’t see me spewing monotonous facts about myself” “That’s just it though. You’re very interesting. I see you twice a week & you never look the same to me. Always a different hairstyle, new lipstick, different outfit. You keep me guessing & well…I like that.” “Different outfit…Did you expect me to have the same clothes on like a cartoon character?”

Jeremy took my clothes off the way he took down my walls; slowly & intently. I never felt exposed or vulnerable. It was easy with him & who doesn’t like easy? The first time we had sex he kissed every scar and stretch mark on my body while he whispered beautiful and for the first time I believed it. This is when I knew I loved him; this is when I knew he loved me. We fell into a routine & inevitably, that’s how we fell apart. We saw each other four-five times a week in between work, school & our respective friends. I’d meet him after work or he’d meet me after class, we’d get some food or I’d cook, we’d talk, then go back to his dorm room or my house & somewhere in between there we’d fuck once or twice & that would be that. Talk, Eat, Fuck, Repeat. This, I should inform you, was the foundation for our dismantling. Jeremy grew tired of our monotony, I suppose, & because of that he started talking to a female customer who had “just so happened” to frequent his job. In talking they “just so happened” to find they had “so much in common” & somehow Jeremy’s dick “just so happened” to be in her mouth when I walked into his dorm room to get the spare phone charger I left there just in case. “Oh Mahh Gahhhh” is what Celeste said with his dick slighty tucked to the left side of her mouth because it wouldn’t have been polite to pull it out all together; though I’m sure there was no God she could ever call her own. Startled yet surprisingly indifferent I found my charger in the first drawer of his night stand now decoratively arrayed with ripped condom wrappers and I closed the door behind me.

Walking out of the apartment I didn’t feel anything but when I reached the stairs it hit me and when Jeremy came running out of his room, pulling his boxers up I looked up at him from the top stair I was sitting on & hit him right in the groin. “Shit! Ahh! Damn, J! Come on!” he winced . “Come on?? Excuse me?!? You’re such a fucking dickhead. Like what the fuck?” “I know. I know. I’m sorry babe. You gotta believe me! I swear it’ll never happen again.” & that’s what I wanted to believe after all; that this was just a bump along our road; that we could get through this because we could get through anything. So when Jeremy crouched down in front of me, put his hand under my chin, looked me right in the eye and told me he was “so sorry”, that he “really loved me”, that he was “mad stupid for doing that” I believed him & gave us another chance because I wasn’t ready to admit failure.

Celeste Soto was the average full figured broad who just “couldn’t help” falling for other women’s boyfriends, husbands, fiancés, you name it. Walking back into his room, I found her putting her left shoe on with one hand on his desk for balance. “You gotta believe mama” she said “I didn’t know he even had a girl. You feel me? I wouldn’t have done anything with him. Thas crazy disrespectful. My bad.” as she adjusted her bra strap and pulled her hair into a messy bun. Turning slighty towards Jeremy, I looked at him as if to say “really?!? THIS was the best you could do??” and he lowered his head, and stared at this one spot on the carpet that he could never get out. Not only had Jeremy cheated but he chose the lowest of women to do it with. “First of all, I’m not one of your friends so I don’t know why you’re calling me "mama” & no I don’t “feel” you nor do I intend to. Get your shit and get out!“ When she was gone I searched the apartment for remnants of her presence, prior to that days visit. An earring, a hair tie, maybe a lip balm. I found nothing or maybe I wasn’t really looking.

For eight months straight Jeremy was on his BEST behavior. He’d let me know where he was at all times as to ensure that he wasn’t out cheating; send pictures as proof on some occasions. I have to admit, though I was secure in his whereabouts, I was also sure that this was not how healthy relationships works. Nevertheless I looked forward to each notification because afterall "once a cheater……"you know the rest. One night I went over to his place to cook dinner, partially to ensure he wouldn’t be feeding Celeste or any other girl his penis but also because this is what I missed most about us. I had become so preoccupied with deciding whether or not I could trust him that I wasn’t concerned with trying to make us seem normal. After dinner we were in his bed tearing at each other’s clothes & after switching positions five times he looked down at me & said "I can’t do this”. Looking back at him I said “it’s cool I wasn’t feeling it either honestly”. “Not this” he said falling to my side, facing the ceiling “I mean like this….us”. Somehow though I knew that was what he had meant. This ball of something akin to both fear & anger welled up in my throat & grew until finally all I could say was “oh”. One tear fell from my eye & couldn’t allow myself to shed another. “This whole time” he said getting up from the bed “I wasn’t with you because I wanted to be. I was with you because I didn’t want to let you down.” He was pacing back & front at the foot of the bed, lifting his hands to his head then retracting them, looking over at me occasionally for assurance of my understanding. So he continued "I couldn’t let your last image of me be somebody who betrayed you. I had to prove you wrong & that’s selfish. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be in a relationship I’m not fully committed to. It isn’t fair to either of us J & you can hate me but I’d rather you hate me for being honest.” “Is this a joke? Please tell me you’re kidding right now” I said, half laughing half crying. “Let me get this straight” I said, sitting upright in his bed, pulling my shirt over my head “You cheated…..You lied…..YOU fucked up….You begged for another chance!…and my stupid ass gave you one. I’m just so lost right now.” This is when I realized I never should have sat on those steps & cried. I should’ve ran out of that building like it was on fire because guys like him will always burn you.

Some nights I could still hear his footsteps pacing the floor & I’d wonder when in the hell it would be over. When I’d stop crying; when I’d realize I was better off without him. But there’s this moment & I know it sounds cliche but you just wake up & you feel different you feel like you can begin again. One morning I woke up and knew Jeremy would never have a hold on me the way he did before, but more importantly I didn’t want him to.

The thing about baggage is that you never realize how much of it you carry around. In fact you assume that more often than not you don’t carry any at all because you’re “over it” or you’ve “moved on”. You’ll find yourself compromising because you just want someone to call at night; that wants only you. “Trust me.” my mother said “There will be others and don’t think that you have to look for them or that you have to settle.” My mother had a way with words. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a good thing but the fact remains that when she said those words to me I wished she had kept her opinion to herself. I would never settle…..or at least I didn’t think I would.

I knew I didn’t love Benjamin the first time he came inside me & I wished I had never come to his apartment, let alone into his room splayed with dirty laundry that he was “gonna get to”. More importantly I knew I couldn’t love Benjamin, not the way I wanted to at least, when he told me I’m just like my mother. This sounds stupid I know, but let me explain.

After a week of working overtime, my best friend Selene dragged me out of my apartment for a night of bar hopping. Upon walking into our third stop, Benjamin grabbed my hand & told me I was pretty. That was it. There was no drawn out conversation, no playing hard to get, it was very low stakes. I gave him my number & before I got to the next bar he had called & asked when he could see me again. “Tomorrow” I said.

The next evening Benjamin showed up at my apartment with no plan other than to show up. We decided to see a movie.

The movie we saw doesn’t matter. Neither does the fact that we went to the movies. What matters is that after we left the movies, Benjamin grabbed both my hands & kissed me. When he stopped & I looked up at him he said “You taste like stale popcorn”. I thought “what the fuck?” & then he reminded me that we shared a popcorn. Our entirely relationship was like this; constant reminders of things I should have been aware of.

Ben was different from Jeremy because he never lied to me. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s a good thing though. His honesty was one that I had to grow accustomed to. We had been dating for about two months, when I called him asking if he wanted to get dinner later & he simply replied “no”. No explanation, no rain check, no apology; he just hung up. Later he’d text me & say that we should get breakfast instead the next day because he liked being the first person I talked to in the morning. He never hid anything from me. Girls would text him, telling him how much they “missed him” how much “fun” they used to have & he’d show me his phone while laughing & ask what I thought he should say in his reply. It was almost inconceivable, how much he included me in his decisions when it came to other women. Co-workers would invite him out to dinner & drinks after work, over to their apartments, concerts & he would ask me, not if he could go (because he was going to do what he wanted regardless) or if I wanted to come with, but how I’d feel if he went it with them. We’d be waiting for our heart rates to drop back to normal after sex; our skin still dewy and tingling and he’d say “the last time was better” or “you faked it, but that’s cool” as he got up and ambled to the bathroom & I’d wonder if he had to be so honest with me all the time.

I woke up one day to him sitting at my kitchen table in just some sweatpants, signing a card. Next to him there was a huge bouquet of sunflowers. I walked over to him, fixing my bed hair into a bed bun & when I sat down he was startled. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early” he said & I looked over at the clock on microwave. “It’s after 11……does that even count as early?” I said. He looked up at me, then at the clock, then back at me & shrugged “I guess not”. I asked “Who’s the card for?” & as he sealed it, he handed to me & said “Happy Anniversary Sweetness” with no inflection. My face dropped to the floor, along with the card. “An anniversary?” I thought “have we really been dating a year? Maybe it’s like a six month anniversary? But that’s not even an anniversary!” After a few mental “Fuck!!”’s, I pulled myself together, awkwardly smiled as I picked up the card & opened it. It had been a year since I moved into my own place. In the card he wrote about how happy he was for me; that he knew how big of a deal it was for me to live on my own & he wanted me to know that it was just as important to him. I cried out of relief. He thought I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, primarily because as I closed the card, hugged him, wiped my tears and sniffled into his neck, I whispered “Thank you. This means a lot.”. One year of independence; something I should have been aware of.

The first time he told me he loved me, I opened my mouth to respond & he placed his index finger on my parted lips. “Stop” he said. “Not everything I say deserves or should be met with a response Jenine. I love you. That’s it.” I of course flew into defense. “So I can’t say it back? I can’t love you in return? What kind of bullshit is that Ben? You can’t just say something like that & expect me not to say anything back.” “I never said you can’t say anything back. But think about it baby, I said I love you & your first instinct was to respond. You didn’t even really take the moment in. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to love me back because I love you. I want you to love me because you actually love me.” I felt little, like a child, like I had been put in my place, handled, dealt with, but I wouldn’t let him know. “You’re such an asshole sometimes” I said “but that Benjamin, for your information, is why I love you. Because you’re only an asshole sometimes”.

There are two important things I remember from when I broke up with Ben:

1. It was raining.
2. He told me I should’ve ended us a long time ago.

I came back to the apartment from the gym. As I shook my umbrella walking through the door, Ben sauntered by in his usual attire, house sweats and no shirt, saying “You must love mopping.” in a condescending tone. I happily returned the tone saying “Definitely. I just love it! Can’t get enough.” as I rolled my eyes and the umbrella up, fastening it shut. I walked over to the kitchen & checked the fridge. All that was left was this chicken Parmesan “thing” I had attempted to make three days earlier & it looked like a big pile of mush at that point. I chucked it & decided that take out sounded good. I had a taste for some pad thai so the choice was easy. Picking up my phone & dialing the number I thought it might be a good idea to ask Ben what he wanted but I figured he’d eat whatever I ordered him. So I made the call, ordered Chicken Pad Thai and another peanut sauce dish with shrimp, and hung up. As soon as my phone had ended the call, Benjamin started an argument. “Why would you order food without asking me what I wanted?” he asked me walking out of the bedroom and I replied “I ordered food for us both. No need to say thank you”. He walked towards the window to look out but really it was all dramatics because our window looks directly at the alley behind our building that holds nothing but two dumpsters and a few forgotten cats. “Why would I say thank you to you for doing something I never asked you to do?” he said with his back turned to me “Sometimes” he scoffed, almost laughing, as he looked at the rain collect in the window sill. “Sometimes I don’t get you. Like after all this time you still do shit that irritates me and I wonder why the fuck I still want to lay next to you at night or wake up with you in the morning.” I was sitting on the sofa, absentmindedly playing with the tag on this pillow I bought two years before when he & I had just started dating. He told me the pattern on it reminded him of us; that the lines never intersected. They just changed direction. “Nobody is holding you here Ben. You can leave anytime you’d like.” I said as I picked up the remote & turned on the television.

Thirty-five minutes later I was annoyed that the food hadn’t arrived but also because Ben never left the window. He just stayed there staring at the rain while it sheeted down the window screen and when thunder roared he’d just sigh. “What could be taking this food so long? The place isn’t even that far.” I complained. “It’s the rain Jenine. Everything slows when it rains. People, cars, buses, trains, bikes, they all slow.” He paused “You also might want to factor in the idea that a bunch of people order take out on a night like this.” I answered back “I knew that!……why are you always telling me things as if I don’t know them? As if I’m not aware? It’s just annoying. You’re annoying.” Ben walked away from the window & towards the kitchen counter. He planted his two hands palm down on the counter, hoisted himself up to sit on it, looked at me & said “Maybe it’s not me that annoys you Jenine. Maybe you can’t admit that I’m ever fucking right! I can’t ever make a point without you saying “I knew that!”. If you knew it Jenine…..then why would you say half the shit you say or do half the shit you do.“ I paused the lifetime movie I had been somehow become invested in and pressed a metaphorical "play” on the scene that was unfolding in our living room. “I don’t know Ben. Maybe you’re right” I replied as I sat up, crossed my legs and interlaced my fingers over my knee. “Maybe I can’t handle the fact that you make valid points. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you can’t ever let me be wrong without making me look like a complete ass. You’re always so philosophical. "Oh thee "all knowing Ben!” Ohh he who knows more than anyone!“ I mocked. "It’s insulting. For someone who is just so wise you damn sure don’t know how to do your own fucking laundry, or wash a dish, or aim your penis directly into the bowl when you pee. Stop with the bullshit. We both have our faults.” My phone rang. The food was downstairs.

I threw on my worn out flip flops and shuffled down the 3 flights of stairs. Walking back into the apartment with food in hand, I saw that Ben had returned to the window. He walked over to the kitchen counter where I was standing, taking the food out of the brown paper bag & said “You said your ordered me food.” “I just ordered two things off the menu. I figured we’d just share.” I reasoned. “Right I get that but I don’t like peanuts. You know that. Don’t you? I’ve told you this. I’m sure I have as we’ve been together give or take I don’t know 2 & half years!” “Dammit! I whispered to myself. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking & I was hungry & I’m…..sorry. I’m just sorry.” “It’s fine” he said. “I should’ve just picked something up on the way home. It isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this. You’re like your mother in that way.” “Like my mother? All of this over some take out? Listen, good luck with dinner.” I said as I grabbed a plastic fork at the bottom of the bag & headed back to the sofa. “Yeah, like your mother.” he continued, following me. “You’re always complaining that she never listens to you; that you have to remind her of things you’ve already told her. Yet, here you are never listening to me. It’s not even about the apology. It’s that I just don’t think you’re really sorry at all.” he retorted. “Fair enough.” I said, putting my food down on the coffee table. “You wanna know what I’m really sorry about Ben? Huh? Fine. I’m sorry I moved in with you. I’m sorry I’ve been in this relationship for this long because we’ll never be good enough for one another. You know that right? We’re always going to be like this Ben.” I said, pointing at the pace between with both hands. “It’s never going to be enough that we love each other. There’s gotta be more to love than whatever the fuck we’re doing. I just don’t think this is healthy. I don’t think we’re growing here. Do you?”. “Now that J…that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me. You’re always saying what you think I want to hear and that’s my problem with you. You never say what the hell you want because you think too much about it. We are growing, it’s just apart from one another.” He sighed, finally saying “Look, I’m tired.” as he walked exhaustedly back towards the bedroom, on an empty stomach & closed the door behind him. I couldn’t figure out if he meant he was tired of us, of the arguing, of never really getting back to how we were or if he was honestly tired.

I slept on the sofa & I use the term “slept” very lightly. What I really did was stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was really it for Ben & I. If that was our last real conversation; if that even counted as a conversation. I planned out what I’d say in the morning after we’d both had time to think & reflect. I’d tell him I was sorry about going off & that it’s not that I don’t want to try to make it work but that I don’t even think trying is worth an actual try. I thought about it & felt like the whole relationship was a perpetual “try”. We’d just kept getting up, dusting each other off, & holding hands until we’d fall again thinking it didn’t matter because we’d fallen together. How many times do you have to fall before you realize that perhaps it isn’t the ground that’s tripping you up? That it might just be you. Do you have to scrape your knees a few times or fall flat on your face? How do you know when you’ve had enough?

I laid there falling in & out of sleep. I had this weird dream that I was baking a cake. I kept checking on it. Ben was there but he didn’t really say much. Finally I took it out of the oven & it was burnt around the edges. He shuffled over to the stovetop & looked at the cake with a somber face. “I told you it was done 10 minutes ago. You should’ve taken it out.” he said & I just stared at him blankly because he was right. I turned the pan over and the cake popped out. I let it cool, frosted it and cut a piece. Jeremy hunched over the counter top and watched me put the cake on a plate with confusion. “You’re just going to eat a burnt cake?” he questioned me. I had just taken my first bite and was going in for a second when I looked up at him and said “It still tastes good so what’s the difference?”. “The difference, Jenine, is that you know the whole cake doesn’t taste good. Only certain parts do. Why don’t you just throw it out and make another one?” he said walking over to the cake, lifting the plate up at different points and angles to get a good look at it. It was as though he was wondering how the frosting did anything but make the cake look even sadder. I licked the last bit of frosting off my fork and said “Because, burnt or not burnt, I still love cake.”

I woke up to a sliver of sunlight shining through the living room across the floor & stopping right at the front door. I sat up & checked the time. It was 7:06. I decided I’d go to the bedroom and get some real rest. I stood up & stumbled towards the bedroom. As soon as I reached the door, Ben was coming out of the room. He was dressed & had 2 bags with him not including the backpack he’d never leave the house without. All of the things I had planned on saying were forgotten. I could barely see straight, let alone gather the words I wanted to say. He looked at me then said “Sorry. Can I just get by?”. “Sure!” I blurted out as I moved to the left, almost jumping. He walked towards the front door & I asked “Umm can at least ask where you’re going?”. He stopped moving and turned, telling me “I thought about what you said J. About us not being enough for one another. I guess I just always thought it would work itself out. But I see what you mean. I don’t know the exact moment when you came to that conclusion, or maybe you decided it, but you should’ve ended us then instead of now. So I’m leaving. I guess I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff over the next couple of weeks.”. That’s it. He was gone. Whatever he had left, the “stuff” he mentioned, was never picked up. They were minuscule items really; a toothbrush, some body wash, a value pack of razors. Things that made you think of him, even though they were all replaceable. It didn’t take long for me to realize that much like the burnt cake, I still loved Ben.

To be continued or whatever…….

The promo and the GIF/photos inspired me…also on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/9621602

Sharing is trusting

Alec’s hands are griping Magnus’ shirt backing him up towards the bedroom, leaning down to kiss him passionately as they go, lips crashing together as he’s pulled against the hard lines of shadowhunter body.

 Magnus is loving this turn of events just days after their first date but can’t help wonder why Alec suddenly seems so forward when something dawns on him. Quickly he breaks the kiss, gasping for breath with a hand on Alec’s chest to try and keep some space between them.


“Alexander…wait a moment please.” Magnus smiles at Alec and takes a small step away, hoping to slow things down a little.

“You do know just because I told you about the 17,000 doesn’t mean I expect to add you to that list right away. I think you and I could have something really special here and that means that I want to treasure every moment with you.

We don’t have to rush this, you only get one first time and you need to be sure you’re ready. And then, when you’re sure we’ll make it special, meaningful. Most of the others I don’t even remember their names, they were just a way to pass the time on lonely nights. A quick bit of fun, you already mean way more than that to me already, you know that right?”

Alec blushes and looks away, unable to hold Magnus’ gaze.

“I…I…I just want to make you happy. I don’t want you to find someone else Magnus, someone who knows how to do this, who can give you a proper relationship with everything that involves. How can I compare to all those other experiences you’ve had when I’ve literally done nothing! ”

Magnus slides his hand from Alec’s chest up to the front of his shoulder and rubs small comforting circles with his thumb until the shadowhunter looks at him again.

“Alexander, you don’t have to compete. You have my full attention and there is no one I want to spend time with more than you. I love just talking to you, I’d love to snuggle with you while we chat, kiss you some more but only if you want it too. It’s ok if we take this slow, just try not to overthink everything. You’re not the only one that feels vulnerable. ”


Alec searches Magnus face trying to figure out why the beautiful, confident man in front of him could possibly feel vulnerable.

“What are you worried about Magnus, you’ve lived forever, had so many experiences. You must know how handsome and wonderful you are, how attractive others find you.” Alec says, no heat behind his words just feeling confused still.

“Well, I try…” Magnus chuckles gesturing at himself, drawing attention to his make up and jewellery before looking a little more serious when he continues. “But there’s things about me you don’t know yet. I’m hoping you’ll get to know them eventually but let’s just say not everyone over the years has been as tolerant of warlocks as you are. Not all experiences are good ones.”

“You know that how I feel has nothing to do with you being a warlock or not. It’s you as a person that I like.” Alec reassures.

Magnus smiles up at Alec before taking a deep breath, his face now reflecting his inner insecurities and doubts, deciding if he really wants to continue with what he’s about to do.

“What’s is it Magnus? ” Alec asks as he notices not only the expression change but also the way Magnus whole body seems to have stiffened slightly.

“I want to show you something Alexander, I think it’ll help. You’ve told me about your insecurities and fears tonight so it’s only right I share a big one of my own. ” he tries to smile at the taller man but it feels week even to himself.

“Only if you’re sure…” Alec repeats back Magnus’ earlier sentiment.

“I’m sure…its just…I’ve lost people who I was interested in before over this, I don’t want to lose you but I don’t want to hide from you. I trust you and it’s important to me that you know exactly what you’re getting into before you decide if you want us to go further.” 


“Er…okay?” Alec says as he watches Magnus closes his eyes, take a deep breath and seems to steady himself for a moment. He takes both of Magnus’ hands in his, interlacing his own fingers with the other mans ringed fingers trying to reassure the man in front of him.

Slowly Magnus’ eyes flutter open and Alec’s breath catches at what he sees. Gone are the deep brown eyes that he’s used to seeing Magnus with, the expressive eyes that always give away what the warlock is feeling and now in their place are honey gold orbs with narrow almond shaped pupils. They seem to sparkle in the light and Alec can’t help but stare. 


Magnus looks away blinking as he puts the glamour back up, sadness reflected on his face as he tries to turn away and Alec immediately realises he’s not said anything yet and had just been examining the warlock marks, his gaze intense and emotionless as he tried to take in every detail. He quickly lifts his hand to cup Magnus’ face in his palm and guides it back towards him.

“You’re beautiful” he whispers, his voice breathy and low “seriously Magnus, I got a little lost looking at them and I’m sorry if that made you doubt my reaction but your eyes are just mesmerising.” Alec leans in to gently place a kiss on Magnus’ lips before pulling back to smile at him.

Magnus lets out the breath he hadn’t even realised he was still holding and smiles up at his boyfriend, his heart squeezes in his chest and he’s pretty sure it’s the last fragments of the walls he’d built crumbling and falling away. 

They stand like that for a few moments, neither one saying anything just looking at each other and smiling. Alec is the first to break the comfortable silence.

“Don’t feel like you ever have to hide from me Magnus, I love your real eyes and I’m honoured you felt ready to show me them. Now can we get back to where this night was originally going. I might have started with all the wrong reasons but I’m sure now. I trust you Magnus and I want to spend the night with you.”

“Alexander, you never cease to amaze me!” Magnus whispers as he reveals his cat eyes again and this time it’s him who reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of Alec’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him deeply as they slowly start walking their way to the bedroom again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magnus stirs early the next morning, the rising sun shining in his eyes where he forgot to close the curtains last night. What catches his eye though is the perfect form laying next to him, the sheet covering Alec’s lower body but his torso is bathed in sunlight and Magnus reaches out to trace the runes across the muscled sholders and back. 

Alec yawns and groans as he slowly wakes up, rolling over to smile at the warlock as long fingers slide from his back, across his ribs to land on his chest as he moves.  

“Morning sweetheart” Magnus whispers as he places a chaste kiss on Alec’s cheek.

“Hi,” Alec breathes “so last night really happened.” A blush spreading on his cheeks. 

“You don’t regret it do you?”

“Of course not Magnus, it was wonderful, you were amazing. I just wish I could have made it as good for you as it was for me” Alec ducks his head, avoiding Magnus’ gaze.

“Darling, you have no idea how good it was for me too. Being your first was an honour but it was my first time too. The first time I got to be with you, a memory I will always treasure. It’s something I hope to repeat often though.” Magnus chuckles and gives Alec a fond look.

Alec just smiles and snuggles close and rests his head on Magnus’ chest.

“I think I like that idea…very much!”

“You know Alexander, I think I had to kiss a lot of toads first but I finally found my prince in you.”

Alec just rolls his eyes at the cheesy comment but suddenly every last doubt he ever had about not being able to compare to everyone in Magnus’ past has gone. They might have got to have a small taste of this magical man but Alec is the one who gets to keep him.

Close Call ~PART 4 (final)

Read these first!!!!!! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Catch this fic on AO3

It’s about Lance and Keith getting captured and separated, with an injured Lance. For a better summary go to the first part… I’m lazy.

Finally! The last part!

…pssst @dogsahoy @voltronpaella @taylor-tut I can now stop sliding these across the table- this is the end!

I wanted to try doing something with multiple parts to celebrate VLD’s anniversary (the first part went up on the 10th)… and I can’t believe how well received this was! Thanks so much to everyone who’s given me such kind feedback!! I’ve got lots of plans for future writing, so hopefully you can look forward to that and not be too sad that this is over now? I hope you like the way I ended it… enjoy!!


Lance tumbled out of the healing pod like he did so many other things; without warning. The others were sat around the room when suddenly the walls of the pod disappeared, and the blue paladin fell forward. He would’ve face-planted into the floor of the infirmary if Hunk hadn’t been there to catch him.

He looked around in confusion for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the bright lights, and met the gaze of his best friend.

“Hey, Hunk,” he smiled, voice raspy and uneven. “Miss me?”

Hunk sighed with relief, giving Lance a shaky grin of his own. “You know I did,” he admitted. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again. I was worried sick!”

Lance laughed, and let himself be wrapped up in one of Hunk’s signature, bone-crushing hugs. “Sorry,” he shrugged. “Guess I should be more careful. So, what’d I miss?” He looked around at the others with an expectant smile on his face, but it wavered quickly. The rest of the team all looked worse for the wear themselves.

Pidge’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, while Shiro looked even more worn down than usual. Allura and Coran both stood off to the side, with strained expressions of relief. Keith was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, stoic and silent as usual, but Lance could see the bags under his eyes. In short, they all looked exhausted.

“Um… you guys?” Lance asked uncertainly, voice catching. “Why all the grim looks? What’s wrong?”

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anonymous asked:

Hiiiiiii! May I give you a hc/drabble idea? Even's job is at a library... That smile welcoming people at the front desk? The conversations he starts with patrons by asking about their book choices? Getting caught in the stacks reading instead of shelving books? Bringing books home for Isak? y/fy?

hiiii!! okay so i took you idea and was like… hmmm yes i like this… but then my brain was like “okay but what if it was an au” and I was like “no.. but i like the in canon idea” but then my brain said “orrrr we can make it an au.”

So I hope you are alright with this au Anon!! (also warning, this is raunchy af)

——————–

It takes approximately .83 seconds after walking in the library doors fro Isak to turn around and try to shove his way back out. Unfortunately for him, Jonas and Magnus grab his shoulders and force him right back around.

But he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“I’m not doing this,” Isak says, “I’m not doing it. I take the loss- call me a pussy or whatever. But I’m not doing it.”

Jonas scoffs, “Shut up man, you’re doing it. You are doing it right now- what the fuck you talking about ‘backing out’.”

“We agreed,” Magnus says, entirely too gleefully to be called a supportive and loving friend. “You lost the bet!”

“Fuck the bet,” Isak lowers his voice, “He’s here.”

The other two boys are silent for a moment, looking from Isak to each other and then slyly (fucking obvious as hell they know nothing about sly) to the tall Elivis looking blonde at the counter, checking books out and smiling at single mothers and children and just being a generally beautiful human being.

Magnus lets out a loud whoop of laughter and The Boy at the Desk (along with every other library customer) look over. So Isak does what any well-adjusted boy would do-

He dives behind a bookshelf. And ignores Jonas’s look of utter disbelief. Whatever, fuck him too.

“Isak you’re doing it.”

His life sucks.

———-

He finds the book with little problem. Magnus and Jonas are sitting at a table in the far corner, snickering, nudging each other, pointing at Isak, and being general dicks

Speaking of dicks. Isak sighs and slides the book off the shelf, and then grabbing other science related books to try and maybe lessen the eventual humiliation when Isak has to check out. 

It’s so not fair, is all he’s saying. But when has life ever been fair to Isak Valtersen.

He can’t postpone it any longer, so he glumly makes his way to the counter, waiting in line behind a kind looking old lady who smells vaguely of fish and an older gentleman with bright white eyebrows. He clutches his books to his chest and literally feels his face heat up with every second that passes. 

When he’s up next, The Boy at the Desk glances up and smiles, warm and bright and all of his teeth are stright and his eyes are a dark sparkling blue and they crinkle a little at the edges and-

And he’s saying something.

Isak blinks, “What?”

“I said I like your hat,” The Boy (his name tag reads Even and what a hot fucking name that is why does everything good in Isak’s life have to end in agony?) repeats and then hold out his hands for the book, “I’ll check those out.”

Isak refuses to hand them over. “Um.”

Even raises an eyebrow, “Do you have a steamy romance in there? Is that the problem? I don’t judge you know- I’ve seen it all.”

Isak wants to die. The sad part is he wishes that were the case.

Apparently over his impatience, Even chuckles, leans over the counter, and plucks the stack of books in his hand. “I’ll take those and we will get you on your way to enjoying Swashbuckling Pirates or whatever.”

He gets through two of them before he sees it. The bet. The fucking bet that he was entirely too drunk to win and Magnus knew that-

Managing the Micropenis: A comprehensive Guide

Even blinks and Isak is ready to jump off the roof. “Um.”

Isak thinks quickly, “It’s not mine. The micro-dick- or like, the book. My dick is fine. Great even! Perfectly normal, if you want to know. Oh my god- wait that came out wrong.” 

Isak waves his arms, cursing the part of the bet that stipulated that he could absolutely not tell the bookkeeper that it was in fact a bet, “The book isn’t for me- see it’s a funny story. That I can’t really tell you because it’s a secret story. But- fuck.”

Even opens his mouth, blue eyes wide and swimming with amusement or embarrassment on Isak’s behalf or something.

Isak wants to die. Again.

“Actually, okay.” He leans forward on the counter and tries to quell his red cheeks, “So you see those guys in the corner? The ones laughing and waving like hooligans?” Even nods slowly, leaning in even closer, “Right so the big blonde guy? That’s Magnus. The book is for him. Sad story, man. And he’s so embarrassed, you know? Such a tiny dick for a big guy? So I thought i’d be a bro and get the book for him. Because I’m a great friend. And i have no qualms about… my own… fuck me.” He widens his eyes, “I don’t mean-”

“Isak,” Even says softly, “Your name is Isak, right?”

He swallows, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Even waves it off like it’s no big deal, “I believe that you have a nice, good size dick.”

“Jesus Christ,” Isak leans down to hit his head on the counter, “Thank you.”

Even finishes checking out the books, the corners of his mouth twitching harder with almost every second. He hands them back with a grin, “Here you go. Give my best to Magnus and his dick. And yours, of course.”

Isak blinks owlishly- “Right.”

He turns around to leave, but pauses. “So when I return this tomorrow– or whenever Magnus is done comforting his dick…. will you be here?”

“Mmmhmm,” Even nods, “You should check the inside cover of the book when you leave. Before you give it to your friend. Just- yeah.”

“Okay…” Isak gives him one last small smile, before hustling to the boys at the corner of the library. “I hate you so much.”

Magnus is in tears. “Your face is so fucking red.” 

They leave the library almost immediately after wards and as they are walking home, Isak covertly looks inside the front cover of the heinous book.

There was a phone number there. and below it:

My dick would love to take your dick out sometime 8—D 

-Even

Ayeee it’s my first time writing Voltron. (Also format might be wonky bc, yanno, writing on phones is hard).

The ending is suuuper abrupt I’m sorry, I hit that typical sick!fic wall.

📚: College au, sick!keith, klance


***

Keith wakes up in a panic. He bolts straight up in bed, hands immediately cupping his throat. It takes a few disoriented moments before Keith realizes where he is: his bedroom, stuffed into his twin sized excuse for a bed, and tucked tightly against Lance.

It was a dream, Keith tells himself, with a quick shake to the head. It was a dream, but he can barely remember what it was about, the narrative falling threadbare like a spider web that’s been hastily wiped away. What he can remember is choking and the guttural, almost feral noise he made trying to breathe.

Keith forces his hands away from his neck and takes a deep, even breath. A sharp sting scrapes down his throat and he realizes that the pain isn’t nightmare residue, it’s real. And it’s not just his throat. Keith aches - his head, his muscles, his chest.

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anonymous asked:

What would your response be to ppl saying that Clarke betraying the Grounders in the last episode is exactly like Lexa leaving the skaikru in Mt. Weather? I haven't watched this season so idk all the details of what went down with that bunker business and my hunch is that those ppl (i.e. blarkes) are once again twisting/over simplifying things to demonize Lexa/prop up blarke (they think the purpose of the "parallel" is to bash Lexa and present Bell as the real hero who will "correct" Clarke)

My response would be filled with very impolite words but I’m not gonna do that. Instead, I’m just gonna explain how that parallel not only is wrong, but it’s nonexistent. People are so busy demonizing characters that they miss what the show has been literally screaming at us for a few episodes now.

So, if you pay attention, you’ll notice how evident it is that the parallel everyone is looking for isn’t with Lexa, but instead, with the Mountain Men.

But let me go in order. Throughout this season (and even before if we consider all the interviews on this topic) it has been made clear what Clarke’s approach to the upcoming apocalypse would be: try to save everyone. No more Grounders vs Skaikru, us vs them. She transcended tribalism, as it was repeated more than once. Now, while I do believe this is something Clarke already had in her (not as much as some people in the fandom seem to think, but that’s a story for another post), this progress has been shown as a consequence of her relationship with Lexa. Even ignoring the romantic aspect of it for a moment, they did change each other for the better, and Clarke witnessed Lexa’s vision of unity and peace. 

Now, we get to season 4, and not only Clarke is grieving for Lexa, she wants to honor her as well. Throughout the season, Lexa is mentioned multiple times in relation to Clarke, and in a positive light. To make some examples

– She and her legacy are recognized and honored even by past enemies. (x)

– Clarke wants to try to save not only just her people but everyone, as many as she can. Admirable aspiration, which is recognized as something Lexa believed in as well, something she would be proud of. (x)

– We’re yet again reminded of Lexa’s vision. She made the Coalition. She wanted unity because she wanted peace and safety for all clans. Also in this same scene, Indra mentions that if Lexa were there, the other clans might have followed her, and also that Lexa was the only reason a war hadn’t happened before. So, we see that Lexa’s presence could have avoided several conflicts and problems during such a critical situation. So again, a positive mention. (x)

Now, we’ve seen Clarke being very much in line with Lexa, which has been shown a good thing. But there is another scene Lexa is mentioned in that is worth talking about. The discussion between Clarke and Roan in 405. (x)

The first time in s4 we see Clarke possibly reverting back to tribalism, it is portrayed negatively. Roan literally calls her out. And yes, it was a backup plan, but Clarke’s face during Roan’s speech makes it pretty obvious that there is some truth about her in what he is saying.

Now, why did I mention all this? Because I needed to make clear how Lexa and her vision and her legacy are being showcased. Again, in a positive way. Because what Clarke chose to do in 410 wasn’t influenced by Lexa, it wasn’t a parallel to Lexa’s betrayal in 215. It was a parallel to something else, to someone else. Who?

Dante Wallace. More in general, the Mountain Men.

Honestly, it’s right there. Literally spelled out by the show, and more than once.

Clarke has good intentions. We’ve seen it throughout the season. But also the apocalypse is coming and the stakes are insanely high and she keeps on losing hope. We see how all this is taking a toll on her, how it’s literally eroding her, and the harder it gets the more she slips back into a “we have no choice” mentality. We’re not supposed to see that in a good light. We’re supposed to be disturbed. And here comes the negative parallel. 

First, episode 408. Clarke decides to test the nightblood and radiation on the grounder scavenger, finding some sort of moral consolation in the fact that he’s a horrible person who tortured Emori (she doesn’t know it’s a lie). When the truth is revealed, Emori is chosen as the next one to test/sacrifice. This time, Clarke has no excuses. Nothing other than humanity will die if they don’t find a solution. Now, what other people would have been doomed to death (by radiation nevertheless) without committing unspeakable acts in order to ensure their survival? That’s right. The Mountain Men. The parallel becomes even more evident when Luna refuses to give them other bone marrow and they knock her out, strap her down and take it by force. As Raven says (x)

In this particular case, the final outcome is less grim than it could have been. Clarke doesn’t go all the way, she decides to inject herself instead of doing it to Emori. Through the episode, we see her being plagued by what she is about to do. She can’t even look at Murphy, we see her doubting her own choice, meditating on it. And eventually, she chooses not to do it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she ends up changing her mind after Roan mentions Lexa. Lexa is a reminder of what she’s been trying to accomplish, of who she’s been trying to be. At least, that’s how I see it. 

And once we get to Clarke injecting herself, she repeats Dante’s words. “I bear it so they don’t have to.” In doing what she does, she retains some of her morality, but also, it’s the first sign of the direct correlation being established between Clarke and Dante. When you think about it, she is doing what he was planning to do if his people had eventually left Mt Weather. He wanted to stay inside, to sacrifice himself. Here, Clarke is sacrificing herself as well.

And finally, we get to 410. Clarke’s “transformation”, so to speak, is complete. Now, I’ll try to make this as evident as possible going step by step.

  1. At the beginning of the episode, she’s still holding on to her plan/ethic (we have to try to save everyone). 
  2. Enters the threat of Luna.
  3. Jaha instills fear about the death of their people.
  4. Clarke initially ignores it and goes to talk to Roan but he won’t listen.
  5. Clarke makes up her mind and decides to steal the bunker.

This is 410. Now look at 215, from Dante’s perspective.

  1. Dante has been refusing to have any part in the killing of the 48, which means he’s holding on to his ethic. 
  2. Enters the threat of Lexa and Clarke, ready to break into Mt Weather with an army.
  3. Cage instills fear about the death of their people.
  4. Dante initially ignores him.
  5. Dante changes his mind and suggests a plan to save his people (deal with Lexa)

It’s so incredibly linear. Clarke and Jaha become a mirror image of Dante and Cage. And to make sure it’s clear, at the end of the episode, Octavia literally says

This is the parallel. This is the negative influence. Lexa is nowhere to be found here, if not in the fact that by doing this, Clarke, who wanted to honor Lexa’s legacy, is now literally betraying it. She has turned into what used to be the Grounders’ and Lexa’s greatest enemy. 

That’s it. This is what I think that scene and Clarke’s arc are supposed to mean. To analyze it further, we can only wait for next episode, when we’re going to see the repercussions of this choice and we’re probably going to delve into Clarke’s psyche much more.

In regards to Bellamy, again, I think the best thing to do is to wait for the next episode to air and then see.

But this is my answer. I hope I made my thoughts clear enough.

Imagine Bangtan: Mafia! Min Yoongi

Imagine Bangtan (Different Profession AU!): Jeon Jungkook | Kim Taehyung | Park Jimin | Jung Hoseok | Kim Seokjin | Kim Namjoon

NoteBased on the roleplay series that me and Midnight have been working on~ 

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

  • So let’s talk about Mafia Yoongs
  • I don’t really think he’d be the time to be directly involved in the assignments tho
  • No, no, no
  • He’d be the consigliere, giving advice to the boss, which would probably be Joonie and resolve any and all disputes that happen between the hitmen, mostly Jungkook and Tae because they literally fight over everything 
  • And you, you’re just a plain ol’ run of the mill, normal college student trying not to procrastinate your life and your grades away
  • He first saw you when you were running from one class to another because obviously, even after months of attending classes, you’ve lost track of what day it is and are rushing to get to the right class 
  • He finds it irrationally, insanely adorable and he’s slowly smiling to himself and then Jungkook gets back just in time to catch that and he’s like 
  • “Hyung, are you okay? You’re… smiling.” Jungkook speaks with a genuinely concerned expression on his face, “I didn’t think you had feelings, wow…” 
  • Which leads to a subsequent loss of dessert, extra snacks and even wifi privileges for the rest of the week

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private tutor | part one

request from anon: Can I request a namjoon in college!au? It can be about anything! Maybe a tutor? Thanks and I love your writing!!

Originally posted by yoonkooks

[Namjoon x Reader]

Genre: College!au, Humor

Words: 3535

—> “I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.” You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.” The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

A/N: Joonie can tutor me any day ;) hope you guys like this part one/intro of this series (i’m thinking three parts?)! xoxo


Well, this is awkward.

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Helicopter (NSFW)

Wade Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, controlling/judgmental parents, smut

A/N: Since it was most requested that I do this request next, and I had some time tonight I decided to bang it out real quick. No pun intended. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what else you guys would like to see, my inbox is starting to run low. Also, I’m gonna work on linking my rec list in my bio for anyone who wants it.


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anonymous asked:

Leela! This was my favorite live show! This one really felt so warm and cozy and he looked so happy and soft and was talking to us like a friend with how he was talking about his feelings and mental health and just trying to explain things without giving too much away and ahh I love Daniel Howell so much! I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

where to begin y’all. everything that you said and more–this live show was just so great. it wasn’t one of the ones that maybe necessarily gave us tons of new insight into dan or phil or their lives, but it was so good because dan is so clearly doing okay right now. he’s happy. it’s radiating off of him. maybe part of it is the stark contrast to how he was in live shows during feb/march, maybe part of it is our own confirmation bias and our desire to connect this dan—live and taking time out of his evening to speak with us—to all of the big changes we’ve been seeing from him,,, but regardless, in an absolute sense, dan is definitely happy and that is probably the fundamental reason why this live show felt so lovely. 

i went back to read some of my notes on his last few live shows before writing this one and it was surreal to see how many of my comments were about how negative he was being. he inserted a joke about wanting death or being an ugly rat or failing at most things in life so frequently. he constantly berated his own approaches to various things in his life and alluded to struggling with a lot of his own internal thoughts. in contrast, this live show contained a grand total of zero comments regarding death. zero comments about being ugly or terrible. he of course noted flaws in his approach to youtube and things of that nature, but he didn’t really criticize himself for them, and instead pinned them back to his own mental health and the way his personality works and offered up constructive ways that he’s thinking about dealing with all of it. it was like watching,, not a different person, but a strangely calmer person—someone who has clearly spent some time reflecting on these things and has gotten himself to a better and calmer headspace. 

the best part about the happiness in this liveshow for me is that it wasn’t really communicated through words (he never actually said that he’s really happy or excited or anything like that.) and it wasn’t like he totally avoided talking about his fears or his flaws in a way that would actually be disingenuous. it was all a bit more subtle and (to use his own refrain) ~authentic~ than that. it was there in the way he couldn’t get through so many sentences without breaking into a laugh or a big smile. it was there in the way he talked about the audience—a bit gushy at times, but mostly fond and appreciative. genuinely. it was there, of course, in the little asides he shared about phil and about their plans for the future. it’s fun to think about what may have helped this shift along. maybe it was time away in singapore, taking a step back to reflect on how far they’ve come and how much they’ve achieved and how very bright their future looks regardless of its specifics, or maybe it’s because the hard things he’d been dreading (like moving on some level bc it’s stressful, and also the ‘rebrand’) are now over and done with and he can just settle in the aftermath. and all of this sort of fits with what we know of the person that dan has been basically forever. he’s someone who spirals and even anguishes in the stretches of time before a decision is made. he doubts himself and he fears being scrutinized or judged. he’s afraid of what people will say but at the same time wants to be above all of it and make decisions that reflect what he really wants. it’s clear that the last couple of months, just from what we know and what he’s told us, have been filled with these sort of troubling internal struggles, but dan has also always been the person that appears to find solace and fulfillment in the certainty of a decision being made. he seems to be much more at ease once he has figured out the right way to proceed and actually executed it, because even if the decision backfires or goes wrong, he’s okay defending it, he’s okay because he knows he thought it through and did what felt best to him and whatever comes from it is of secondary importance. sticking to a choice you’ve made, or believing in that choice, is a lot easier than a belabored process of weighing between options and thinking about how each option reflects on who you are as a person. all of this to say. i’m glad that for the time being things seemed to have calmed down, and he’s happy. i’m glad he wants to share so much of that with us. i thought i’d go through some specific insights by general topic area, under a cut for once bc in actuality this is the longest thing i’ve ever written about them it’s obnoxious~~

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all that glitters is now gold

a/n: this is what i think should have happened after the rune party, and i’m hoping we get something similar when magnus and alec talk about magnus’ past in 2b !!!!! hope u enjoy !!!!

summary: after seeing magnus’ warlock mark at max’s rune party, alec begins to wonder why magnus never takes his glamour down around him. so magnus tells him. they get emotional.

word count: 3,842

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On AntiFascism in the US.

I don’t think antifascists in the US are really aware of what the situation in the US currently is and hearing the news from Berkley cemented this.

For people who aren’t aware, various Nazi groups organised a Nazi rally and were predictably met with anti fascist resistance. There was a police presence, people were armed with sticks, poles, knives, shields and improvised armour. Several people were punched and soon after about 20 people were arrested and then AntiFa dispersed and ceded ground to Nazis, who remained for a bit longer and then also left.

And depending on how you saw it, it was either victory for AntiFa or a victory for Nazis.  Wheter or not it was or how you saw it, one thing was clear. It displayed the weaknesses of the anti fascist movement in the US. Mainly a severe lack of organisation and a shallow goals mostly ammounting to ‘meet them out on the field and beat the shit out of them’.

In any other, less fascist time, this may work better than it would now. But i feel that with the current state of affairs in the US, what we’re risking is merely a repeat of 1920’s-30’s Germany.

During the violent and turbulent political and social climate of Germany at that time, the police was often essentially hand in hand on the field with Nazis and SA Stormtroopers. What we saw at Berkley according to reports by some was much the same.

A Weimar police officer with an SA stormtrooper.

Nazis at Berkley knew how to play up to the police and moreover the police in the US is more than likely to sympathise with them, given that the police in the US is absolutely packed with white supremacists, Nazis and other assorted fascists.

The police in the US are practically chomping at the bits to simply start shooting us in the streets. They’re already killing people of colour by the hundreds each year, and that’s while also pretending they did nothing wrong. What do you think will happen when all this pretense completely drops away and they’re allowed to kill protestors en masse?

I don’t know if open anti fascism in the US will work or flourish when we have the literal organs of the government against us out on the streets.

Nazis know this, they’re on the same wave lenght, and this is something US anti fascists need to start realising.

You’re not just dealing with a scattered bunch of Nazis out on the streets, clad in MAGA hats and Pepe pins.

You’re also  dealing with their police enablers who will use any justification to whip out the shields, batons and move in to disperse and beat the living shit out anyone they see, while the Nazis are safely tucked back, laughing at us as we’re bleeding out on the ground and tackled by a squad of armoured riot officers.

You’re dealing with the politicians they voted in who are right now trying to pass laws that will sabotage freedom of protest in the US by giving police more, and of course the victims of these laws will be antifascists.

Be sure, things are not okay and things aren’t easy, especially since the anti-fascist movement in the US has been utterly declawed due to decades of political disenfranchisement and a media narrative that is decidedly against us.

Nazis and right wingers in the US have literal decades of community ties, they have the benefit of old and experienced organisers and furthemore they have the benefit of, on average, being financially stable. Nazis at Berkley were able to bus in dozens of Nazis from surrounding areas while the anti fascists at Berkley were unprepared and local.

We failed on an informational level, we were not able to find out about their plans, their forces or capabilities and then adjust our actions accordingly.

Furthemore Nazis and right wing organisations in the US, as i said, have the benefit of support from police departments, politicians and when push comes to shove, the military. Be sure about that, if it comes to that the military will open fire on anti fascists in the US.

For all intents and purposes the AntiFa movement in the US has only now really had the chance to cut it’s teeth and it shows. Many AntiFa are absolutely ready to throw down, but throwing down is only one aspect and we, again, do not have as much experience in that regard.

There’s a legitimate threat that anti-fascism in the US becomes mostly performative and when faced with an actual fight on the streets,  it will fall apart.

Our support base is tiny and insular.  The mainstream left leaning figures want nothing to do with us and the majority of US society doesn’t pay attention, care, or see us as threats to free speech because that’s how media frames the conflict between these two groups.

And this is something Nazis excel at, the control of information and how these issues are framed. When an AntiFascist punched Richard Spencer in the face it’s not seen as resistance towards someone who is openly genocidal, they see an intolerant bully shutting down someone who by the virtue of free speech, has the right to say whatever the fuck they want.

Nazis know this, it is central to their frame of 'we’re the victims, we merely wish to engage in a democratic process that is behoven to us from birth as rightful citizens of the United States’.

That’s another AntiFascists don’t have:  reach.

Our terms and core beliefs are alien and unpalatable to the majority of Americans. Nazis abuse the already existing and inherent bigotries of the majority of Americans. They prey upon these insecurities and inculcated, centuries old cultural beliefs and work off of them to drum up support.

It is much harder for us to tear this shit down than it is for them to just work off of something that is already there.

Look at YouTube as a microcosm. Decidedly reactionary and fascist YouTubers have gigantic reach when compared to even the most popular leftists. They have weaponised memes to a frightening degree and will continue to do so. As fucking ridiculous as it is to say this out loud, memes have become a frontier OF propaganda in the US.

The leftists that we do have are under constant assault and many of them, especially trans people and people of colour, do not have a secure enough fallback to survive.

Nazis on YouTube are paid in literal thousands to rant out debunked propaganda for three hours.  They will survive anything barring being completely and utterly cut off from the Internet. Their audiences are greater by far, an audience i have not seen any anti-fascist being able to emulate.

And on top of that their information is much more palatable and regurgitated far easier. We do not have that benefit, as i said, to dismantle pre-existing and heavily ingrained bigotries that fascists so easily exploit.

So we’re losing the rhetorical battle as well, something that i think is massivley important, moreso than even just engaging them out on the streets. And of course mainstream media, in it’s twisted visage of 'objectivity’ is only proving itself to be a tool to enable fascists. So we can’t rely on that either.

We need to somehow make our info more acessible, more palatable, we need to make our reach greater.

I think that aside from strenghtening our information game we would do well to focus on uplifting and strenghtening our own communities so that we have a reliable fallback. We need to help each other more than anything so that we can live to even fight.

And fighting isn’t just phisically fighting. Not everyone is capable of doing that.

We need to also make sure that we uplift the voices that are the most marginalised in the United States especially, the voices of LGBTQ antifascists of colour. We should not allow for the discourse to be dominated by more white cishet voices to the point where LGBTQ folk of colour are shoved off to the background.

This shit isn’t easy and we’re currently not in an enviable position. Make no mistake these are extremely dire times. And honestly at this point i’m simply rambling and i just want to hear other AntiFa’s opinions on this.

@justsomeantifas @class-struggle-anarchism

Weird Habits

Word Count: 1,652

Note: Honestly, I feel like this is just me being cheesy, but I hope you like it!

You had a weird habit of remembering the meaning of names. For some unknown reason, you found it fascinating that something we simply use to identify someone could have such a deep meaning, not only that, you loved matching the meaning of the name to their owner. Just this morning you had done it with Frank Longbottom, whose first name meant ‘French man’, and laughed silently thinking he had nothing that resembled your idea of a French.

Your friends found it a bit odd, nothing particularly strange, but they still liked to tease you about it. The only one who wouldn’t do it was Sirius, who claimed to find it endearing. This, according to Lily, meant he fancied you.

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You’re My Mission (Part 2/?) (Avengers x reader)

Part 1

When Wanda and Vision arrived to assist Tony, you were barely holding onto your senses, and the strength you would need to get away was depleted.  He could have stopped, he could have quieted his repulsor at any point now, and you would still be their prisoner, but he continued until his backup could make sure that you were safely detained.

“Mr. Stark, you can release your hold,” Vision urged, kneeling at your side.  “Her power is significantly diminished.”

“Don’t…don’t touch me…”

“I do not wish to harm you.”

“You can’t help me, either.”

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