me about being in third place

The bond between Yuzuru and Shoma

Hero’s Special 170402

So, as opposed to the usual media angle of Shoma vs Yuzu, Hero’s has decided to put together a program about their relationship, as seen from behind the scenes footage. Most of the articles/reports are now focusing on the relationship between Yuzu and Shoma instead of the previous angle of rivals, because this time they had the shared role of Japan’s representatives as opposed to being individual skaters.

Shoma: Right now, when I’m practicing, my motivation is the desire to achieve the ability to win over Yuzu-kun. That’s the only motivation and, in order to continue growing, I would like to continue forward without changing this feeling.

Yuzu: I’ve often been told that I’m in a position of being chased by others but, if you think about it, just like how we found out with this SP, there are still many people I have to chase after. After all, after the SP the one who was standing in first place was Javier, and the one who was third was Patrick. Of course, the young skater Uno…Uno-san…U-Uno-san? *frowns at himself and laughs* Uno-senshuu** too (was in the top 3). There are many things that I don’t have, so in a manner of speaking, everything is to me, something/someone to chase after.  

In which we get a behind the scenes look at the bond between Yuzu and Shoma (as viewed by the Japanese media)

Full translation including video narration under the cut.

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No Pain-No Gain

Request:  I’m not sure if you do like one shots or stuff but I had an idea for a soulmate au where someone’s soulmate can feel there pain. Like a a person breaks their foot, their soulmate will feel it to, just not have a broken foot. Image how Clarks soulmate would react with all that stuff. I think it would be cute, but could be kinda angsty. Just an idea. Idc if you do it or not, just thought it was cool. Have a nice day.
Word Count: 9636.
Pairings: Clark Kent/Superman x Reader
WARNINGS: Lots of swearing. Mentions of: low self-esteem issues, traumas, bullying, weakness complex. Angst (personally, I don’t consider this very angsty but, you need to be warned). Also, I’m sorry for any typos since this was not edited and english is my second language.
Author’s Note: Hope this isn’t to cheesy and that you will be able to enjoy it. Also… NINE THOUSAND WORDS IN LESS THAN A WEEK?! That’s a record for me! Anyway, hope you enjoy this and that the anon who requested it isn’t disappointed.

Originally posted by sir-henry-cavill

Originally posted by amancanfly

Originally posted by amancanfly

Yes, I totally needed three gifs of Henry Cavill. You did too, don’t deny it.


I hate my soulmate, that’s for fucking sure. I totally hate him (or her, you never knew) and I don’t give a single fuck if I haven’t met him. Also, no, I’m not exaggerating in the slightest and yes, you can hate someone you haven’t met, thank you very much (and yes, even if it’s your fucking soulmate, especially mine).

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‘normal people agree with me’

an ask I got just reminded me of this story.

‘ask any normal person and they’ll agree with me,’ is a claim often made by antis when arguing that your bad ships are bad or your kinky fic is dangerous. and as it happens: I did have occasion to talk to ‘normal people’ about anti-shippers and get their opinion. as this is an anecdote it doesn’t actually prove anything, but as someone who has a fair amount of contact with non-fannish people on a daily basis I can say their reaction wasn’t exactly a surprise.

after the third doxxing of a she1th fan in the vld fandom (late last year, if I remember correctly), I finally became concerned enough that I decided to pre-empt any attempts on my employment by talking to my boss about the remote possibility that some strangers on the internet might contact our company and accuse me of being a pedophile.* in places that aren’t fandom, being accused of pedophilia is still very serious business - not the sort of thing one does lightly. this made me rather apprehensive about bringing the subject up in the first place, but I thought it couldn’t be avoided. 

I asked for a meeting with my regional manager and my immediate supervisor, who are both very much not nerdy or fannish, and had (more or less) the following conversation:

me: so I’m a fan of this cartoon called V0ltron

me: which is a kids show about a giant robot piloted by 5 humans, defending the universe from the evil alien emperor zark0n.

manager, supervisor: *laugh (as I intended)*

me: it got rebooted this year and there’s an active community of fans of the reboot online. i’m part of that community. and there’s a lot of people who are focused on romance, like which characters are kissing other characters

manager, supervisor: *amused looks* *expressions that clearly say ‘okay you weirdo, go on i guess’*

me: but because the two characters I like to imagine in a relationship is a guy who might be in his early to mid twenties and a guy probably in his late teens, there are some people who would say that i’m a pedophile

manager, supervisor: *both burst out laughing and don’t stop for a bit*

manager: what? are you serious?

supervisor: are they st*pid? you said this was a cartoon, right?

me: yeah

manager: that’s the most ridiculous thing i’ve ever heard in my life. so why are you telling us this?

me: because some of the people who would think this are also doxxing people and contacting their jobs to tell them they’re employing a pedophile.

manager: … wow, that’s fucked up.

supervisor: who gets this worked up about a cartoon?

supervisor: if someone contacts me to tell me that you’re a pedophile, I’ll laugh in their face and report them to the police.

after this conversation I had to talk to the company lawyer so he could be made aware of how being a she1th fan in the vld fandom made me a potential PR disaster. he gave me some legal advice on how to avoid getting doxxed and concluded with ‘if anything happens, we’ve got your back.’

in conclusion: 

  • no ‘normal people’ don’t always agree with antis about what counts as ‘pedophilia’
  • in fact, in my experience ‘normal people’ are mostly too busy pulling a mental ‘who cares brenda’ about the fact we’re all arguing about cartoon characters to even give a shit about the character ages. they think we’re all collectively ridiculous and/or obsessive
  • ‘normal people’ are way more bothered by doxxing than they are shipping choices
  • if an anti ever says ‘i asked normal people and they agreed with me’, take it with a grain of salt. because i can almost guarantee you they got the desired answer by how they asked the question.**
  • also the laugh I got out of this with my coworkers was really cathartic. if you ever need a reality check, talk to normal people about fandom drama. they’ll have your back.

*’pedophile’ being incorrectly treated as synonymous with ‘csa offender’, of course.

**framing is everything. ‘is it okay for a teen and an adult to have a relationship?’ is a very different question from ‘is it okay for people to imagine or write or draw about a fictional teen and adult in a relationship?’ but being precise isn’t a strong point for people who see everything in black and white.

Minimum wage part time is literal hell on earth jfc. Like I worked three jobs for a total of 133 hours in the month of September. Which is less than what a month at full time would be, but it is so much more fucking draining. I often had to run directly from one job to another with only half an hour to get all the way across the city. I frequently had to work until midnight (and then spend over an hour bussing home because bus service after midnight fucking sucks), only to wake up the next day at 7am to go to a different shift. There were whole weeks where I didn’t get a single day off. My sleep schedule was consistently fucked in ways I literally couldn’t fix because doing so would be incompatible with my capacity to work.

At $11.40/h, I technically earned $1516.40 for my month of work, but because of pay periods, the withholding of pay for training shifts (subject to a 3 month probationary period), and a payroll error, I have only received $694.10 of that money so far. Barely more than a third of the amount owed for the hours worked. Not enough to even cover rent in my city, much less to live on.

Three jobs. Three jobs and they don’t even add up to full-time hours. Three jobs and I can’t afford the cost of a room, much less an apartment. Three jobs and I can’t earn enough to live. I’ve been living in a trance. I stand for seven hours at a time staring into the middle distance, greeting every customer, getting harassed, being treated like a rudimentary fucking AI program who isn’t imagined to think or feel by its users. I have to smoke a bowl every night to fall asleep and take my vyvanse with coffee every morning to get through the damn day. At my newest job, one of my coworkers is applying to go back on welfare because with no health insurance and few hours at a wage that isn’t close to living, she can’t afford to keep her apartment and her medications.

At one job, on a day that earned me $79.80, I sold $780 in merchandise. Our boss there is complaining that our sales are down, harassing our manager to fix it. At another job my boss says I’m not making enough in sales to justify my wage, and then in the same breath berates me for quitting, saying I’m “betraying” her, I’m her only employee and I “lied” when she hired me by saying I cared about the place. At the third job I get 15 hours for the whole month: I’m told off for not being available for an open shift, and then four days later my boss texts me at 10:37am on a day I’m supposed to shift to say “don’t need you today after all, sorry.” because why should I deserve more than five hours notice.

Shift work is not unionized. Shift work comes with no benefits, no guaranteed hours, no health care, no promise of making enough to survive. We have no recourse when our bosses don’t pay us on time, or don’t pay in full, or threaten us or bully us. Reporting worker rights violations is an impossibility: it would only mean getting fired. And unions don’t want us. Most people are not in the jobs that unions were built around. Most of us aren’t working 40 hours a week with stable hours, benefits, bargaining power. Unions were meant to protect the most vulnerable and exploited in the workforce of the world, and now they refuse to even consider us. It’s bullshit and I’m sick of it. The service industry is fucking evil and the people working within it aren’t protected at all. That needs to fucking change.

Nightmares

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x reader

Requested: nope

Warnings: none

Word count: 969 (I know it’s small don’t judge please)


A/N OKAY, this is something I spent a lot of time writing, and actually got detention because I was writing part of it during an EXTREMELY BORING history class, so I really hope you like it!


                                                             ~-~-


   (Y/N) woke up into the night. The attacks were getting more frequent each day, and so were her nightmares. Sitting up and resting her head on the headboard of her bed, acknowledging the fact that she wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon, she grudgingly got out of bed dragging her blanket with her, and headed downstairs to the golden and red common room. 

   She threw herself on the couch opposite the fireplace. With a flick of her wand, a roaring fire appeared in it. She covered herself with the blanket, also covering her nearly bare feet. She was only wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt that belong to her best friend since third year, Sirius Black. Although his scent still lingered off of the shirt and provided some comfort, it wasn’t enough to help her fall back asleep. She shifted on the couch, so that her face reflected the light of the fire as she stared absent mindlessly into the fireplace.


   Sirius Black woke up in the middle of the night due to a noise that came from downstairs. After multiple attempts to fall asleep, he gave up and headed towards the common room.

   He had reached the top of the staircase when the light coming from downstairs made him wince. Once his ayes adjusted to the light, he saw his best friend, (Y/N) Lawson lying on t he couch.

“Couldn’t sleep, Lawson?” he asked


   (Y/N) turned upon hearing her friend’s voice, seeing him descend the stairs half naked. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a toned chest and a more-than-generous six-pack.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a smirk already finding itself on his face

“don’t flatter yourself Black, and no, I couldn’t sleep” she stated, and then, so silently so that he couldn’t hear “the nightmares are getting worse”

       But he heard. The smirk immediately disappeared from his face, turning into a frown. She sat upright, making space for her friend to sit besides her. He placed a hand around her shoulders, and she rested her head on the crook of his neck.

“How bad?” he sighed

“Very”

“Meaning?”

   She hesitated a bit before deciding to tell him

“I dream of… attacks… everywhere. We’re on the train, when suddenly a group of Death Eaters march in, heading straight for our compartment.

   Sirius sighed, (Y/N)’s parents are muggles, putting (Y/N) in great danger.

“they grab me” (Y/N) continued “use the cruciatus curse on me, torture me until I’m practically begging for death. Then, they kill me, slowly. The rest of you just sat there chatting, like you couldn’t see, or hear m, or you just didn’t care.”

(Y/N) hadn’t realized she had started crying.

   Sirius hugged her, pulling her even closer to him. His heart broke seeing her like this. (Y/N) was normally such a happy person. But ever since Voldermort had started gaining more power and followers, the mischievous glint behind her eyes was nearly gone.

   But that last statement had really shocked him ‘or you just didn’t care’ what the hell was she even talking about? Placing a hand under her chin, he gently pushed it upwards so that he was looking directly into her eyes.

“(Y/N) Lawson, you listen to me, and you listen to me good. You have been one of my best friends-if not my best- since third year. And being so close to me means that all James, Remus and Peter care deeply about you”he paused, not knowing how to continue “Remember in out fifth year, when that Ravenclaw broke your heart?” 

“Yeah..” she chuckled a bit despite the situation “you punched him, breaking his nose, James hexed him into puking birds for a little over a month and Remus, given his prefect status, gave him detention for a good two months.”

“Exactly! So don’t you ever think, not even for a second, that the four out of five marauders would abandon the fifth one during a death eater attack” 


   These words brought new tears to (Y/N)’s eyes, tears of happiness. Something about knowing that she had friends that would go to such lengths to protect her, and that one of them was Sirius Black, made her feel all warm, despite the chilly weather of February.

   Because, although she hated to admit it, she had developed a slight pretty big big crush on her friend.


   Sirius was watching his friend, ‘more than a friend’ he thought with a chuckle, closely. He had to admit that she was perfect. Her big, (Y/H/C) locks that framed her beautiful face perfectly, her big, (Y/E/C) almond shaped eyes filled with curiosity and mischief, her full, yet not too thick, lips that were just teasing him, her tiny waist…

   But, contrary to common belief, it was her personality that made him fall for her. She had a strong personality, that’s how they became friends. The marauders had pranked (Y/N) and the rest of the girls, charming the shower heads into turning whoever used them red with gold polka dots, the Gryffindor house colors. (Y/N), after removing the color with a simple spell, had managed to get them back by doing the same thing to them, with the sole difference that whoever showered using them, would be turned bright, vibrant, glow-in-the-dark, PINK. And the four boys were stuck like that fro a week and a half until, finally, Madame Pomfrey managed to find the antidote that would turn them back to normal. She was the first, and the last, person to have ever out-pranked them, and he admired her for that.


   She fell asleep on the couch, cuddled next to him. He watched her for a little while, admiring her, admiring her beauty and her strong personality…

   Sirius Black fell asleep with only one thought on his mind, he was in love with (Y/N) Lawson.



A/N

AHHHHH! HOW DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT? please leave feedback, follow me etc. etc Be sure to check Pt.2 & 3 (I’d put a link but something’s wrong with my computer and it won’t let me) .

School Crush

MASTERLIST

Request: Hey, I was wondering if you were able to do an imagine with Peter Parker x reader where the reader only ever hangs out and is friends with girls but starts developing a huge crush with peter while doing a project together? Can the reader be really shy and introverted and a huge nerd? PS I loved your first Peter Parker imagine you did

A/N: Geez… If you’re talking about the first Peter Parker imagine I did, that must mean this one is wayyy overdue. Hope you like this one, sorry it took me so long! ALSO, my undereducated (my fault), dumb North-European self had no idea if this is the kind of subject people do projects in school OR if all the little info I made the reader say is like common knowledge in there. So excuse me and the school system we have i here. We don’t learn about inventors that much. No requests for a second part, please.

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Words: 3,244

Warnings: “third base” is mentioned once, some (harmless) name-calling between friends


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By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part One, Chapter Three

Previous: One | Two





JULY 2, 1863
GETTYSBURG, PENNSYLVANIA

Gradually, the thick musket smoke begins to clear, and the regiment sets about taking stock of its losses. Mulder and his men begin the dreaded, painful process of identifying their dead, all of them clinging to a faint hope as they cautiously nudge each still figure lying on the ground, praying to themselves that the man has only been knocked unconscious and will spring back to his feet at any moment, good as new. Once in a great while this turns out to be the case… but for the most part, these men have been lost. The surviving soldiers carefully relieve the bodies of their personal effects, their photographs and their saved letters and their bibles, stowing them away to be sent back home to their families at the first opportunity.

Scully approaches Mulder, his freckled face downcast and a good deal paler than usual. He’s clutching a folded, bloodstained piece of paper in his hand, which is shaking slightly.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Private?” Mulder asks, as Scully stops in front of him. In answer, Scully unfolds the piece of paper, which, on closer inspection, Mulder can see is a relatively brief letter, written in Scully’s own careful hand.

The name signed at the bottom of the page, however, is Private James Halsey’s.

“I’ll have to copy it over again before I sent it,” Scully says, his voice subdued. “I don’t want his wife and son to have to read his final words on a piece of paper stained with his blood.” Mulder nods stiffly.

“That’s probably wise,” he agrees, his voice breaking. Scully pretends not to notice as he folds the letter back up and tucks it away, and together, they continue with the grim and grisly work of identifying the lost, of doing their best to make sure that no family back at home will be left wondering about the fate of their husbands or their brothers, their fathers or their sons.

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Pen Pals- Chapter 3

Parings: Tom X Reader

Summary: You’re Pen pals with Tom but you don’t know it’s Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry this seemed to take me forever to write.  I kinda love this chapter and I hope you do as well.  As always, tags are open and feedback is appreciated!  Enjoy!

Word Count: 2060

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Originally posted by tomhiddleston-gifs

The move went as smoothly as was to be expected.  You arrived a day before all your stuff, so the first night you were stuck on an air mattress.  The movers arrived the next day with all your stuff and you were so thankful to not have to spend another night on the uncomfortable blow up bed.  You were to start work the beginning of the following week, so you had some time to unpack.  You figured it would be a good idea to start; but you wanted to explore the new city too.

One box became two, and two became ten.  You emptied the boxes and broke them down.  Everything you were doing was auto pilot and before you knew it, the majority of the apartment was unpacked.  You sat down on the love seat and took a deep breath.  The cable company would be there in the morning and you were low on data so you didn’t want to use your phone.  Not knowing the city and not having data to use was going to be a slight problem. You figured you could find a local coffee shop and find wifi so you could connect and email Tom.

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broccolissoup  asked:

20. I don't want to have a baby.

submit a line from this, the generator, or just make something up and I’ll write it!

“I don’t want to have a baby.” Draco says, so quietly he almost can’t hear it himself. Harry stills in his spot in the center of living room. He is cross-legged in a sea of pamphlets on adoption and magical surrogacy that have fanned themselves out across their coffee table and have strewn themselves across the sofa and floor. In the midst of all the papers and books and several half-finished, forgotten cups of tea, sits Harry Potter. And Harry Potter looks like he’s about to cry and fuck, Draco thinks that he has never hated himself more.

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Request: Shine

Part two to Storm! Honestly I really didn’t expect the response that the first one got, but I was so thrilled!! I started this about four times, trying to get it to a place I wanted it so I could get a satisfying end to the first one, so you’ll have to let me know what you think… maybe even a third part? Let me know!

Word Count: 1,304

It’s good to be home. Despite everything, despite being completely unsure about your future, it’s nice to sleep in the same bed for more than two nights in a row, and it’s nice to know when and where your next meal is going to come from. It’s nice to have Bobby there, someone who knows you inside and out and understands – what isn’t nice is constantly having him lie to Dean for you. You’ discussed it, and more than once it had ended in tears, with you deciding that you didn’t want to face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

This limbo, it’s… easier than facing things. Whatever you do, whichever decision you make, it’s going to change your life forever. But while you’re here, admittedly hiding from everything, you’re safe from that change, sheltered from whatever havoc it’s likely to wreak on your life.

You sigh to yourself, rolling over and tugging the duvet up to your chin, enjoying the warmth – that’s another nice thing, not having to be up and out of bed at the crack of dawn every single morning. Bobby has been insisting on you getting proper sleep, and considering that it can take hours for you to fall asleep after tossing and turning constantly, you tend to make up the time in the mornings. You’re just about considering crawling from the bed and heading downstairs for a drink when you hear voices downstairs.

“We need something of hers. Will there be something in her room?”

“I- uh- it’s a mess, I’ll go up and-“

“It’s fine, Bobby, I know what she’s like. The sooner we’re out of here the sooner we can start tracking her properly.”

Dean. It’s him – he’s come for you. It’s been nearly two weeks – it would have come sooner or later. But you’d have appreciated some warning – some time to think about what you want to say.

Bobby doesn’t want to protest – it would give you away. You recognise that, and recognise that he’s giving you a chance to run; to hide, to get away from it all one more time. A substantial part of you wants to – to be able to live the lie you’d begun to persuade yourself of.

For once, you stand your ground, pushing yourself up and out of the bed, wrapping a robe around yourself – you’re not going to face him in just your pyjamas. By the time he makes it up the stairs, you’ve steeled yourself enough that you manage to stop your hands from shaking too much.

The door creaks open, and Dean steps into the room – he notices you instantly, His hands curl into fists and he freezes, just staring at you like you’re some kind of phantom in the night.

“Y/N,” He breathes, your name nothing short of a prayer on his lips. You want to be angry; be vindicated, but all you feel for him is sorrow. You take a half-step backwards, watching as the cogs whir in his brain, “How long have you been here?”

“The whole time.”

“You’ve been safe?” He whispers, words snagging on themselves and tangling like a loose thread. You nod minutely, wrapping your arms around yourself as he shakes his head.

“Very.” You reply, perhaps a little shortly. You find, however, that you have very little to say to him. All of the thoughts you’d had… they’re gone in the face of a real conversation.

“Y/N…” He presses his lips together, “I’m sorry.”

“You always are.” You swallow, taking another step back, “Don’t pretend to care if you don’t. Don’t do it for pity. I don’t want your pity, I don’t want your sympathy.”

“You don’t have it,” He snaps, perhaps a little too vehemently. It surprises you enough that it stops your mind in its tracks for a few moments, “I screwed up. Really, really screwed up.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Just like you don’t notice the tears threatening to brim over, blurring your view like a melted kaleidoscope, “I’m not mad, Dean. I know you think I am.”

“Then what are you?” He insists, raking his hands through his hair, “I know what I said was God-awful. I know I can never take it back. But I was terrified, and-“

“So was I!” You interrupt, staring at him with wide eyes as the tears begin to fall, “I was beyond terrified! You didn’t think that that was my absolute worst fear? For you to completely… do that?”

He can only look at you for a few moments, shaking his head, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” You realise, “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Sorry doesn’t take it back.”

The look of panic on his face is enough to break your heart – above it all, you love him. More than yourself, more than anything – but that doesn’t give him carte blanche to say what he wants and expect you to come running back the minute he realises his mistake.

“I know.” He admits, chest slowly deflating, “I know. And the second you say leave, I’ll go. No questions asked. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Neither would I.” You agree, slowly unfolding your arms and wiping at your face, before letting them fall to your sides, “But I’m not going to.”

“You’re not?”

“You’re an idiot. We agree on that.” You watch as he nods, taking the hit in the hope of a little redemption – which you can’t help but give him, “And I’m upset. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up. That’s not how this works. That’s never how this worked.”

He shakes his head, agreeing readily – only then do you notice the tears in his eyes – a change. You may as well have handed him a golden goose – he’d have been less thankful for that than anything else.

“Y/N, you don’t- you have no idea.” He says softly, swallowing hard, “You know I’ve always wanted a family. And then you came along and there was a chance, a real chance, of it happening. And now it is… now it might be…” Dean sighs again, “I screw you over. Because that’s what I do. Disappoint the people I love.”

“I’m not going to pity you because of your history of bad choices. That’s your cross to bear.” You inform him softly, but take a slow step forward, “I’m willing to forgive and forget and move on. I want to. What I don’t want is for you to feel coerced or forced into staying. Stay or go, but there’s no in between.”

He takes a deep breath, hesitating, and then shakes his head, “I’m staying. For as long as you’ll have me, I’m here.”

You can’t help but crack a smile, “So that’s that? We’re doing this?”

He nods, this time not hesitating, “Of course. In fact…” It’s the last thing you expect, but before you know it he’s taken both of your hands in his, “Marry me.”

“What?”

“I love you. I want to be with you forever, I want to make this official. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He rambles, squeezing your hands and offering a tentative smile.

“I’m not marrying you just because I’m pregnant. This isn’t nineteen-thirty-four.” You chastise, and Dean groans, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not because you’re pregnant! Trust me, Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t completely sure of it. I love you. I want to do right by you, because you deserve it. Just let me be romantic and spontaneous, alright?” He insists, his eyes catching yours – and you grin, nodding.

“Yes, then. Yes, I’ll marry you.” You decide, and then he grins, surging forward and taking your face in his hands so he can kiss your lips – and there it is. Past, present, and future, all in one.

Not Everything Is As It Seems

Summary: How about a Jace imagine about being really tough and unemotional, but one night in the middle of the night he finds you in the training room crying while beating the crap out of a punching bag. 

Characters: Reader, Jace Wayland, Hodge Starkweather, Rick the Douche

Fandom: Shadowhunters

Word Count: 1519

Request: @izzytheninja

AN: I didn’t know what to put as the picture so here you have Hodge Starkweather shirtless because a body like that doesn’t deserve to be hidden. (I’ve said to much)

Originally posted by clariesfray

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Toafo Uhila

Hey, Kat! It’s my birthday! Have a fic!

oOo

Their first meeting goes something like this:

It starts with a chūnin in a sandy village trying desperately to not die of boredom. It starts with a beautiful blond leaning up against a wall, dressed in casual clothing and watching the night life as it bustles around them. It starts with a drunk jōnin swaggering over and pinching the other’s ass, earning a yelp from the blond. “Very nice ass, sugar,” he slurs out and leans in to try and get a kiss, only to receive a fist to his face. He staggers back, dropping his bottle and reaching up to clutch at his now freely bleeding nose. His friends immediately leap to his aid, coming up in a defensive formation.

“How dare you,” the blond hisses and the hitai-ate with a leaf engraved on it gleams in the moonlight. Through his drunken haze, the jōnin staggers forward and raids the pouch on his thigh for a kunai, raising it high. Pale, white light glints off of the blade and the blond rolls his eyes.

“That is quite enough. I do believe I’ve warned you before, Eiji.” A redhead lands gracefully on the ground, lips drawn into a thin, unimpressed line. There’s a large gourd on his back and what looks like gold sand is spilling out from the opening at the top. “Consider yourself in quite a bit of trouble.” The blond shivers slightly, enjoying the glide of the redhead’s voice as it forms each word. Opposing village or not, it’s a silky smooth tone that he, if he was being completely honest with himself, wouldn’t mind murmuring filthy things into his ear.

Eiji snarls and takes a step forward, spitting out, “Look here, you—” but his friends quickly drag him into the nearest shadows and the redhead turns to the blond.

“You are well, no?” the redhead asks. “Perhaps you shouldn’t venture into things that you can’t handle.” Never mind. He wants to spike the other in the face. Preferably with the nearest, heaviest, sharpest object he can find.

The blond twitches slightly, the vein in his jaw spasming. “I,” he begins and it’s perfectly polite, a thin undertone of agitation gliding just underneath the surface, “am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The unspoken ‘asshole’ does not go unheard.

“Well then,” redhead says and the amusement in the tone makes the blond want to murder him right then and there, “I shall let you take care of yourself, then.” And with that, he’s gone, the sand below him swallowing up his form.

“You absolute asshole,” the blond spits, scowling at the now empty spot.

“Hey, kiddo!” The blond spins on his heel and turns the vicious glare on the now approaching male.

Yes?” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

Jiraiya raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender and smiles like he isn’t facing a pissy blond. “You ready for the exams?”

Minato’s scowl morphs into a sharp smile that’s little more than teeth. “Oh, yes.”

And that was the end of their first meeting.

oOo

Their second meeting kinda goes like this:

Minato actually does get around to punching the redhead in the face.

“That wasn’t nice,” the redhead slurs and his voice is still amazing, even with a severely bleeding nose. It’s not quite as smooth as usual, just slightly rough due to him pinching his nose to stop the blood from getting all over his jōnin vest, but it’s still enough to make Minato shiver with need.

He’s only a newly minted jōnin himself, but the blond is certain that with both the Hiraishin and his Rasengen, he can take on the world. Maybe.

“Yes, well,” he returns, coolly, “maybe you shouldn’t startle me while I am making seals.”

The redhead rolls his eyes and curls healing chakra around his nose, snapping it back into place with a rather sickening crack.

Minato’s lips twitch up just slightly. He had actually broken the other’s nose with the force of his punch. That had been one of the most satisfying things he’s done in quite a while. “I do apologize,” redhead drawls, sounding anything but apologetic and Minato barely resists the urge to leap to his feet and punch him again.

“Liar,” he mutters under his breath, mentally cursing his weakness for smooth voices.

The other still hears him. “I’m hurt, pretty.”

He raises his fist and shakes it just slightly. “Call me pretty again….” Minato hisses and trails off, blue eyes gleaming with promised death.

“Very well.” the redhead says, raising his hands in surrender. “I shall see you later….pretty.” And then he’s gone, leaping over the rooftops before the blond can retaliate.

“You son of a bitch!” Minato bellows after him, fury painting every single word. He sinks back down to the ground and picks up his brush, mentally vowing to make the other pay.

He still doesn’t know the redhead’s name.

That was the end of their second meeting.

oOo

Their third meeting goes a little like this:

Minato’s smile is like death, all thin and evil with his lips pulled back to reveal far more teeth than psychically possible. The redhead in front of him shivers slightly and takes a step back, understandably wary. “Good evening,” the blond says, smile widening even further.

“Ah, uh, good evening, pretty?” It’s definitely phrased like a question and Minato’s eyes slide closed into little ‘U’s when the redhead takes a step back. The other shinobi in Konoha’s bathhouse, the ones who know about Minato’s vicious temper, carefully sidle out of the blond’s line of sight. They have no interest in being caught up in the explosion.

“Duck,” Minato purrs out. The redhead blinks confusedly at him for a moment and then yelps when the blond punches him in the face, again, as hard as he can.

“The fuck was that for?” he slurs out, clutching at his freely gushing nose.

“I did warn you about calling me 'pretty’,” the blond says easily, dropping his towel and sliding into the water.

“Honestly,” a third voice complains and Minato glances up when Orochimaru steps into the hot spring. A dark glare is all that’s needed to clear the entire place out, leaving just the three of them in the water and the Sannin relaxes with a sigh. An evil smirk flickers over their lips. “I hope you realize, Namikaze, that I will not be explaining to sensei if this becomes an international incident.”

Minato’s smirk is just as sinister. “Well then, Orochimaru-sama,” he says sweetly, “if you won’t say anything, then I won’t tell sensei about you spending lots of, ah, time with Hatake-sama.” He grins innocently when Orochimaru slips underneath the water, surfacing with a loud splutter. “Oops, was that supposed to be a secret? So sorry,” the blond coos, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“You!” the Sannin splutters, coughing as they spit out a mouthful of water.

“Should I come back later?” the redhead asks, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here at this exact moment. There’s a crack as he snaps his nose back into place for the second time in a row.

“I will string you up by your balls and feed you your own liver if you so much as twitch,” Minato says, a blue eye flickering to glance at the other.

The redhead scowls. “I don’t even know your name,” he complains.

“Oh? So sorry. I should give it to you, then.”

“Well?”

Minato shrugs. “I don’t know yours.”

Orochimaru heaves a ragged sigh and drops their head into their hands. “You punched a Suna jōnin without ever learning their name. Great. Just fucking great. And here I was hoping Jiraiya hadn’t managed to infect you.”

A beaming smile is his answer and the blond leans back against the edge of the pool, basking in the warmth of the water and the sunlight. “Sensei has been nothing but a perfect role model,” he says, the very picture of innocence.

“That’s…that’s what I was afraid of,” the Sannin breathes weakly, looking very much like they wish they had access to alcohol at this very moment. They sigh and drag a hand over their face, shoving dark hair out of golden eyes.

The redhead takes the chance to bolt for the entrance; he abandons his clothing and escapes wearing nothing but a towel, yes, but at least he makes it out alive and in one piece. Konoha shinobi, he thinks, shivering at the howl of rage that echoes behind him, are insane.

And that was the end of their third meeting.

oOo

Their fourth meeting is explosive:

Rasa’s in the middle of speaking with two other jōnin sensei about the final part of Konoha’s chūnin exams when what feels like a bucket of water is dumped over his head. A quick swipe of his fingers in the substance reveals purple paint. Purple glittery paint. The vein above one of his eyes twitches, and he can already see his comrades causally backing away from his seething form. Laughter echoes above him and Rasa spins on the ball of his foot, gold dust already writhing as it escapes from the gourd on his back.

There. On the roof. It’s that damn blond from before; the one who broke his nose twice already.

On a better day, Rasa wouldn’t even consider trying to murder an allied shinobi. On a better day, he might even laugh at the prank, then go take a shower. On a better day, he wouldn’t be brandishing a kunai and trying to rip someone’s throat out. Today…today is not one of those days, and Rasa snarls furiously, lunging forward before he can even get a grip on his temper. The blond dodges to the side, flipping gracefully onto another roof and covers his mouth again, smirking between his fingers. Rasa sees red.

“I,” he hisses, so close to actually committing murder, “am going to rip your throat out.”

“Kinky,” the blond calls back and his smile widens further at Rasa’s snarl of rage. “But you’re going to have to catch me first.” His form flickers once, then vanishes in a burst of yellow; he reappears further down the road, waves a hand, and then vanishes again.

Rasa screams in fury, his comrades snicker, and he immediately leaps to give chase. He’s going to drown the other in their own blood.

He still has no clue to their name, other than their last.

That’s the end of their fourth meeting.

oOo

Their fifth meeting is even worse:

Murder is not an appropriate way to deal with frustrating coworkers.

Murder is not an appropriate way to deal with frustrating coworkers.

Murder is not an approp— Rasa cuts his thoughts off halfway through the sentence and growls at one of his fellow shinobi. Not even three hours after he had attempted to hunt down and murder the blond—He failed, pretty miserably too—and his coworkers are already smirking at him.

“Quite the spitfire, ah?” one says, pushing brown hair over her shoulders, lips quirked up in that infuriating smirk Rasa has come to hate.

I will drown you in your own blood,” he hisses, partially because he’s furious and partially because he can’t leave that response unanswered. She puts her hands up in the universal sign of surrender, but the smirk on her face doesn’t change. Rasa narrows his eyes at her, darkens his glare, and hopes that nothing else can go wrong.

The universe, as always, likes to prove him wrong, and then laugh at his misery.

With a flash of bright yellow light, the blond reappears on the rooftop. He doesn’t even look tired, and there’s a massive grin on his lips. “Wow,” he says, looking pleased with himself, “only three hours before giving up? That’s sad.” He shakes his head slowly, almost like he’s disappointed. “Not a lot of fun with a chase. Peaks really quickly without touch and absolutely no stamina at all.”

Beside Rasa the brunet chokes, then starts laughing hysterically, mouthing 'No stamina’ like it’s a prayer from Kami itself. On her left, the ginger begins cackling and slumps against a wall in an attempt to stay upright. Rasa fumes, and because he’s petty like that, pops the cork on his gold dust just so he can flood the area with sand.

Glancing around when the dust has settled somewhat, Rasa’s already feeling smug at the sight of the ginger and brunet cursing his name as they spit the grit out of their mouths. His gaze flickers upwards, and the redhead is already preparing for the sight of the blond in the same situation, when he actually gets a look.

That fucking bastard is wind affinity and running a Kami-damned slipstream, the sand-filled air shifting around him, never once touching the Konoha jōnin uniform. Rasa would be impressed if he wasn’t in the middle of contemplating murder.

Just before he can actually use his chakra to fill the other with spears made of sand, he laughs, bows, and vanishes in a burst of yellow. The veins in Rasa’s jaw jump.

And that was the end of their fifth meeting.

oOo

Their sixth meeting is simultaneously worse and better:

“I would like to introduce my successor, Namikaze Minato,” Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen says, gesturing towards the doors of the Halls of the Kage Council. Namikaze, Rasa thinks with a slight twitch, sounds awfully familiar. He glances up just as the doors open and snarls when a horribly familiar blond practically skips through.

“YOU!” Rasa bellows and slams a hand down on the table hard enough to spread minute cracks along the surface. The other Kages jerk at his volume, but the redhead is too furious to care.

“I wasn’t aware that you two knew each other, Rasa,” Sarutobi says, looking like he’s half an inch away from pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He broke my nose,” Rasa seethes. “Twice.” White eyebrows shoot up and Sarutobi actually reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose, an exasperated sigh escaping his mouth.

Namikaze smiles sunnily at him. “You startled me while I was working on my seals.”

“You punched me because I called you pretty,” the Kazekage informs him flatly.

“Yes, well, that too,” the blond says with a careless shrug, and Rasa makes a sound like a boiling teakettle. Namikaze merely beams in his direction and takes a seat. “Now, where were we?”

Murder is not an appropriate response to annoying Kage, Rasa thinks, sinking into his own seat with a mute sort of fury, but I sure wish it was.

You’re Spiderman? Peter Parker x Reader

Peter Parker x Reader
Prompt: Spiderman saved me once, talks to my friend Peter about my crush on Spiderman, discovers Peter is Spiderman, is embarrassed.
Warnings: Cussing, gun violence, not dealing with problems, idk

Originally posted by hardyness

   Maybe I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe this was karma for pulling that girl’s hair in the third grade. Whatever the reason was, I was definitely being pulled into an alley and being held at gunpoint.
   “Gimme your money, bitch,” the guy in dark clothes and a bandana around his lower face whisper-yelled at me and holding a handgun to my temple. ‘Sure, rob the broke high schooler. In broad daylight nonetheless,’ I thought.
   “Dude, I’m just walking home from school, I don’t have anything you want,” I confessed, holding my hands up and hoping he’d let me go.

Keep reading

George Weasley x Reader: “I’m All Ears”

Originally posted by georgeweasleygirl

Originally posted by relationshipaims

-Requested-

~

anonymous asked:

Could you write something fluffy about George after he loses his ear and the reader comes downstairs that night to visit him and they kind of like confess their love for each other and snuggle or something

~

You were currently staying at the the burrow with your best friends, the Weasleys. They were more like your family, since you didn’t really have one to call your own. They took you in after your first year at Hogwarts, the year you had become friends with the twins, Fred and George. Although, you had always felt something more towards George. 

Earlier this evening, you had rode on brooms to the Burrow, having to fight off Death Eaters on you way there. You had gone with George, and you felt sorry that you were unable to block the curse that cut his ear off. The whole thing had made you quite nervous, and even a little scared. Mad Eye and Hedwig had both died on your way there, both of whom you were pretty close to. 

You had just woken up from a horrible nightmare about it, so you grabbed your wand, because you didn’t feel very safe without it, and went downstairs to get a drink of water. However, you heard something, or rather, someone muttering to them self when you came down. 

“Lumos,” you whispered, and a small light came from the tip of your wand, but you realized you didn’t need it because of the moonlight shining through the windows, so you quietly whispered “nox”. Then you saw the tall, red-headed figure with a bandage wrapped around his head, and realized it was George. 

“Georgie? What are you doing down here?” He was looking in a small mirror with a distressed look on his face. He didn’t turn around when he noticed you were there, which was very odd of him. 

“I could ask you the same question, (y/n).” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Me neither. I keep having nightmares about…you know…” you were almost too scared to put the horrible things you were dreaming about into words, but you knew he would understand.

“I know, it’s alright.” He was still looking at the mirror, not turned around, but now, his hand was on the spot where his ear used to be. You walked closer to him, gently putting your hand on his shoulder, and quietly asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I wrap the bandage too tight?” Earlier, you insisted on being the one to clean him up, since you felt that it was your fault that it happened in the first place. 

He quickly turned around and looked you in the eyes. “(y/n)? Do I look ugly without my ear? Do you still like me?”

You replied, “George Weasley. You look adorable with or without both ears. And I love you with all my heart no matter how you look.”

You immediately blushed so much that your cheeks turned into a crimson red color and your face felt as hot as the sun. You thought, Did I really just confess my love to George?!

However, George smirked and pulled you closer to him as he gently placed his hands on your hips, and you stared deep into his gorgeous brown eyes. “You love me?”

Wait a minute, does he actually like me back? No way…he couldn’t possibly…

“(y/n), can I tell you something?”

“I’m all ears.” You replied. “Get it? All ears?”

You both laughed. “Haha, very funny (y/n),” he said with a smile on his face. “I love it when you laugh at my jokes and pranks, and you don’t think it’s immature when I do them, and you even like to do them with me!” 

At this point, you were still blushing, just slightly, and were looking down at your feet. He lifts up your chin, looks into your eyes, and whispers, “but most importantly, I want you to know that I love you.” He cupped your face in his soft, delicate hands, slowly leaned in, and kissed you. 

Not knowing what to do, and being pretty surprised, you finally realize that George Weasley, the funny, adorable prankster that you’ve had a crush on since your third year, likes you back! 

You close your eyes and place your hands in his fiery red hair, which you also found super hot about him, and started to kiss him back. The kiss was passionate, but also gentle, and there was something about it that said, “I love you, and I will take care of you.” 

He pulls away from the kiss, and you lean forward just a little, not wanting it to end. He smiles once again, and places his forehead against yours.. 

You open your eyes and look into his, and quietly whisper, “George?”

“Yes (y/n)?”

“Will you stay with me…until I fall asleep?”

“Of course love.”

So he grabs a blanket, the fluffy, maroon one that he knows is your favorite, since it’s warm and your favorite color, and then sits on the couch, and extends his arm out to you, telling you to sit next to him. You quickly walk over to him, on the couch in front of the warm, cozy fireplace, and lie down between his legs, your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, which you heard gradually slow down. He placed the soft, fluffy blanket over both of you, and you felt so warm underneath it, also wearing his maroon sweater with a G on it, and you also felt safe again, in his arms.He started to gently stroke your (y/h/c) hair, both of you just enjoying each other’s closeness. 

“Georgie?

“Yes (y/n)?”

“I really, really love you.”

“I’m madly in love with you too.”

And the two of you quickly fell asleep, but he made sure that you fell asleep first, and he never left you, the whole night. 


Ta da!!! My very first lengthy imagine!!! Thanks so much for reading it, and PLEASE please please, send in a request! Also, thank you to whoever sent me my first request ever! It was a wonderful idea! Thank you to those of who have already followed me and liked/reposted my very first imagine, Fred Weasley Imagine: Puddin: https://always-a-gryffindor-713.tumblr.com/post/156827576782/fred-weasley-imagine-puddin 

I can’t wait to post/write more imagines, so make sure to send a request, like, repost, and follow me! Thanks again! Love, Vivian ;)

Summer 2017 Anime Anticipation

My friends, the end of spring is upon us  yet again, summer is approaching bringing with it my first quarter-century birthday and a wave of new anime of which there are no sequels of interest for me, so the list of shows I may end up watching is unusually diverse and pretty wild. HeroAca, Virgin Soul and Re:Creators continue into the summer too, the first two being brilliant, the latter… eh. I’ll talk about it in my final review of the season

Top interest

Shokoku no Altair: Definitely my most anticipated show of the season. The manga’s been making waves all over the place and getting praised for its story and beautiful artwork and since MAPPA now has all the money in the world after Yuri on Ice became the fifth (potentially even third, time will tell) best-selling anime since 2000, I hope they’ll do something really good with it.

Ballroom e Youkoso: Production I.G. picking up another sports anime? And one based around an artistic-interpretative competitive sport? Sign me the fuck up a hundred times over! I gotta say though, that my excitement for this show has soured due to 1) the fucking giraffe necks in the concept art and 2) All the fuckboys rallying up around it saying “don’t worry, this one isn’t gay shit like Yaoi on Ice™”. But I still have high hopes for this

Vatican Kiseki Chousakan: The premise sounds so kooky and cool and fun and I’m weak okay? It’s definitely different and sounds interesting so I hope it delivers

Katsugeki Touken Ranbu: After the massive let down that was Hanamaru, my interest in this franchise has dwindled quite a bit. Since they’re doing this as a more plot-heavy historically-focused rendition of the characters, I’m hoping it’ll be more my kind of thing and that ufotable makes it look amazing.

DIVE!!: The other sports anime of the season and it’s about diving of all things! Diving is one of my favorite sports to watch, but the studio doing this is kinda new so I’m worried they won’t be able to produce the animation this kind of sport would require. Fingers crossed. Just hoping it won’t be another Battery.

High expectations

Kakegurui: Looks cool? Not a concept I’ve seen before so I think it could be very fun and unique. I literally don’t know, I’m casting a sort of wide net because there are no sequels of interest for me this season but there seems to be an abundance of “I’ve never seen an anime about this!” shows which is kind of a rare thing in the medium.

Isekai Shokudo: I’d usually pass on anything that uses ‘isekai’ on its title, but my interest for the growing trend of food-centric anime beats my zealousness against otaku isekai LN. Hopefully it’ll turn out sweet and fun

Keppeki Danshi Aoyama-kun: The concept sounds weird enough to work in the same way that Tanaka-kun, Sakamoto, Saiki Kusuo and Nozaki-kun did. I’m only crossing my fingers for a weird af comedy, I ain’t asking for much.

Who the fuck knows, could go either way

The Reflection: This has been in the works for a while and it’s actually a collab with Stan Lee so basically I have no idea of what to expect but it has 50/50 chances of being amazeballs/a train-wreck and I’m quite curious.

Centaur no Nayami: In principle I like the idea of a slice-of-life about centaurs, definitely looks like something more in my taste than raunchier monster girl shows, but since this is a Chinese coproduction and the main girl has huge tiddies I’m cautious about it.

Saiyuki Reload: I haven’t watched the original Saiyuki –I’ve meant to, but my pile of shame is so big- so I don’t even know if I’d be able to watch it, but if it turns out to be something newbies on the franchise can enjoy, I’m definitely interested in checking it out

The Fate Line aka I have no expectations whatsoever but still intend to check them out (maybe)

Fate/Apocrypha: Back when this blog was young I managed to anger the Fate otaku because UBW was shit, but as I said repeatedly back then, Fate as a concept is something I find very engaging. Do I expect this one to be good? Nope. Why am I watching it then? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I mean if I suffered rape-facilitator Archer in UBW I can’t imagine Apocrypha can have something that’ll make me quit… unless it’s offensively boring which can always happen

Konbini Kareshi: Everything below the Fate line I have no real expectations for, but if I have time to check this out it might turn out to be dumb and fun ala Starmyu or Dance with Devils. Who knows

Hitorijime my Hero: I mean, it can’t be worse than Super Lovers…. Right?

Netsuzou Trap: If there’s something I have even less faith in than questionable power dynamics BL it’s fetiche yuri. Still might try to watch ep 1, depending on the kind of reactions it gets

And that’s the season folks. Really lots of variety and with no sequels, pretty much everything on the list is a wildcard. Still I hope the top 5 shows won’t be a disappointment. Oh well, even if they are I’ll stillhave HeroAca and Virgin Soul.

What shows are you looking forward to for next season?

Blocked at every turn Pt 1

A/n - after watching earlier episodes and seeing how poor Magnus and Alec couldnt seem to catch a break with getting some alone time, this came out. As usual it took a life of its own so once again, be warned. If you like it let me know and i’ll post the second part

The boys were at Magnus’s loft and what had started out as a simple conversation had evolved into a make out session. They were sitting on Magnus’s sofa, Alec leaning into Magnus,  his lips locked to his, one hand sits on his thigh and the other is cupping his neck. Alec deepens the kiss, wanting more but he can sense hesitation from Magnus. He pulls back, frowning.“Ok, so what’s wrong?”“Nothing, Alexander, why would you think that?”“Because I can feel you pulling away from me. Am I doing something wrong?” Alec looked so dejected and confused it made Magnus ache. He gave him a smile and put his hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.“No, my darling, it’s not you. I don’t want you to think that, you’re not doing anything wrong”
“I’m confused so what’s the problem? I know I’m new to this but I can tell your holding back for some reason” Magnus looked away from him and sighed. He owed Alec an explanation but he was worried about his reaction.“Magnus, talk to me”“Alec, I know we’ve had a conversation about me being more experienced and you being new to all this and that we agreed that it wouldn’t matter, and it doesn’t. It’s just, I’m frightened that I’ll lose control with you and do something that you won’t like. I know who I am and as I’ve said before, I’m a lot to get used to. The thing is, being in love with you has caused me to have all these wants that I’ve repressed for so long to rise to the surface. There’s so much that I ache to do with you but then I remember that you are inexperienced and it would kill me if I lost control and did something you didn’t want to and you ran screaming in the other direction” Magnus felt himself holding his breath, waiting for Alec’s reply. It was hard to have such an open conversation with someone about such personal things when you had spent so many years closed off to the world.“First of all, I would never ran screaming from anywhere. Second, you seem to forget that I’ve been repressing my own feelings for a long time as well. The worst part was thinking that what I was feeling was wrong, not normal. You helped me realise that there was nothing wrong with me and I’m so grateful for that. Third, yes, this is my first true relationship and I’m well aware that I’m innocent about a lot of stuff but that’s why I need you to show me, teach me. I can’t think of anything that you would do that would make me want not to be with you. I love you too Magnus.” Magnus smiled at him and leaned over to place a soft kiss to his lips. He felt his body relaxing, the tension draining from him. He was right. He needed to stop treating Alec with kid gloves.“Thank you for being so honest with me about this, Alexander. Your right. I won’t hold back anymore. But I want you to promise me that if you feel uncomfortable about anything, you’ll tell me, ok?”“yes, ok. Can we go back where we left off now?” Alec reached for him, drawing him close again and covered his mouth with his own. This time when Magnus felt Alec wanting more he didn’t hesitate. He flicked the tip of his tongue out to touch his lips and heard Alec’s small intake of breath. He pressed back into him, encouraging him to continue. This time, Magnus darted his tongue past his lips, allowing it to explore Alec’s own tongue. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard the soft groan escape Alec.He pulled back softly.“all good?” he asked him. He could already see the answer all over his face. Alec’s eyes looked soft and his eyelids, heavy. Colour pinked his cheeks.“Shut up and get back here” he grabbed him by the front of his shirt and crashed his lips back to his. Magnus put a hand on his waist, slowly moving up his side, loving the feel of his warm muscled body under his hand. Alec still had both his hands bunched in the front of Magnus’s shirt, pulling him as close as he could against him. Magnus gave a small start when he felt Alec’s tongue give a small tentative flick to his lips. He widened the kiss and couldn’t help groaning himself when he felt his tongue touch his own. Alec let go of the front of his shirt and grabbed the back, fingers bunching in the material as he fought to drag it up. Magnus had lost himself in the kiss, his tongue exploring Alec’s mouth, a soft purr vibrating from him. And then he felt him give a muffled laugh. He pulled back, with a questioning look.“What’s wrong?”Alec smiled back at him, his eyes lowering. Magnus couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from that soft pink mouth, lips shiny from their kiss. He frowned and put a finger under Alec’s chin lifting his gaze back to his own.“It’s just, you taste good” Alec’s cheeks coloured, as he smiled back.“So do you, my love” Magnus grinned back, and leaned forward till their foreheads met.“I like that wine you’ve been drinking” Alec looked up at him from under thick black lashes. “Obvioulsy pizza was on the menu for lunch today at the institute” he replied and they both gave a chuckle.“I bet I know else would taste good” Magnus told him. Alec looked at him expectantly. “that deflect rune. It’s been driving me to distraction since I first saw you” He went to move towards his neck but Alec put his hands on his chest.“I want this off” he said, grabbing Magnus’s shirt once again.“Help yourself” Magnus, leaned back, his arms above his head. He smiled at the look on his face. He looked like a child unwrapping a birthday gift. Alec pulled the shirt over his head and off his arms, throwing it to the floor. He sat back, gazing at Magnus’s bare chest and torso. He saw him swallow, hard.“Your beautiful” he said softly, and reached out a hand placing it on Magnus’s pec muscles. He felt a thrill run through him from his touch, his eyes closing. When he opened them again, he heard Alec take in a breath before grabbing both his arms and pulling him into him, kissing him soundly.“By the angel, Mags, your eyes are so hot” he said, between kisses. Magnus realised with a start that he meant his demon mark eyes, that were amber and cat like. No one had ever said that to him before, usually they frightened people, that’s why he glamoured them most of the time. He must of let his guard down without realising it. He pulled back and reached for Alec’s t shirt, reefing it off him and throwing it to meet his own. When he went back to him, he headed straight for that deflect rune. He ran soft kisses from his jaw, feeling Alec tilting his head so he had better access. He mouthed its lines, working his way down to the pulse point at its base and gave it a playful nip. Alec gave a moan, his body arching into him.“Magnus! Aldertree needs you to come to………………….” Jace propped as his boots hit the rug in the living room. His eyes widened and he felt his face burn before he spun on his heal quickly, facing the way he had come in.“Oh damn, guys,…..man, I’m sorry I had no idea………” he spluttered.Magnus and Alec froze. Alec gave an impatient growl, throwing his head back and covering his eyes with his hand. Magnus sighed and rested his forehead on Alec’s chest.“Do you have any concept of privacy, Jace Wayland?” he asked, sitting back from Alec, missing his warmth immediately.“Ah, its Lightwood actually, and how was I supposed to know you two were in here getting some afternoon delight? I’m a Shadowhunter not a mind reader”“what about our parabatai bond? Couldn’t you tell something was up?” Alec asked, frowning. Magnus gave a small snort not daring to look in Alec’s direction.“Dude, lately it’s like your always ‘on’ so the answer to that question is no”Magnus cleared his throat and gave Alec a smirk. He smiled back, lowering his eyes.“can you turn around and at least tell me what was so important that it was worth ruining our afternoon for?” Magnus said.Jace turned but still had trouble looking directly at them as they sat back in the sofa, bare chested and breathing slightly heavy.“Aldertree needs you to track someone for him. He said he needs warlock tracking cause it’s stronger”“how urgent is this request? Can it wait till later?”“well, I’m not too sure, but I could probably stall him, tell him you were otherwise engaged till this evening.” Jace gave them a lop sided grin.“right, that’s settled then. You may go then Mr Wayland, Lightwood, what ever your calling yourself these days. Make sure the door closes on your way out” Magnus gave him a dismissive gesture with one ringed hand before turning back towards Alec. He reached up, pulling Magnus back to him by the chains that hung from his neck, his lips curved in hungry looking smile. Jace gave a cough and after mumbling something about getting a room, left the loft as quick as he could. 

So here’s something I’ve meaning to get off of my chest for a while now.

As you may have noticed, I have a love/hate relationship with this website.  There are some things I love about it, like amazing fan works, jokes, funny pictures, and puppies, and there is stuff I despise about it, like the broken-ass gender politics, the alarming amount of self-entitlement, the blatant spreading of misinformation, constant hypocrisy of users, and over-all pretentiousness of the entire website.

As such, it’s not uncommon for me to receive this simple question over and and over again.

“Why do you continue to stay on this site if most of it bothers you so much?”

At first I didn’t have a solid answer.

Sure the art is nice, and some of the people I have met were great, but there’s also all the other shit I mentioned earlier.

It’s also worth noting that there were times where I actually DID consider saying “fuck it” and deleting everything.

However, the more I thought, the more I realized that I had the answer this entire time.

It’s because I care.

You see, it’s no secret that tumblr is a host to many groups outside of what would be considered in today’s society as “normal”.  I happen to have many friends who fit that mould.  

This website, despite being very public and very open, is considered a safe-space by those who use it.  It’s used as a way for people to find others to relate to, and leave all of their emotional baggage.  To be open and free about whatever the fuck they like.  Social Media wise, tumblr is perfect for that kind of environment.  Politics and activist-wise, it’s one of the worst places for it.

You see, I have met many people who are outside of the cis heteronormative bubble.  They’ve told me their stories, their hobbies, their likes, but above all else they told me their struggles.  I have been told things that have moved me and broke my heart to the point of tears.  I welcomed these people into my life with open arms.

I’ll be the first one to admit it.  I’m an asshole.  But the thing of it is, if you come to me wanting to tell me something, I’ll be more than happy to listen when no one else would.  That’s the thing most people don’t seem to get.  They look at my posts and look at the videos I make and think to themselves “wow what a fucking asshole” but they’re not seeing the big picture.  I’m an asshole because I care.

I love my friends, and I would do anything I could to help them, even if it is as simple as a signal boost……..so when I see posts on tumblr, making the horrible shit they go through into a joke…I get mad.

scratch that.

I get furious.

My LGBT friends, particularly those under the trans umbrella, have enough trouble fitting in and being accepted as it is.  So when I see people saying mindbogglingly ignorant posts like

“gender is a social construct”
“trans is a choice”
“i wish everyone was trans”
“I’m a polysexual genderfab space bunny and all of my headmates are named bob”

I think back to my friends, and I think about how their struggles are already seen as a joke….now they gotta deal with THIS shit.

Here’s the thing about gender being a social construct.

If that was really the case, not only would Dr. John Money’s experiment be a legit success, David Reimer would still be a woman, and he would also still be alive.

Gender isn’t a construct….Gender ROLES are.  To tell a trans person that gender is a construct would be to tell them their dysphoria is imaginary.

Back on point, I reblog and piss and moan about tumblr because I care.  God damn it, I fucking care.  I give a shit when people I care about are made a mockery of by people trying to be “edgy” and “progressive” because their normal lives are just too mundane, so they spice it up by obtaining imaginary and quite frankly, bullshit labels so they can be “cool” and “hip” like all those trans and queer people they hear so much about…..because wanting to be part of a persecuted and abused group of people because “fuck cishet whitey” is the new goth phase I guess.

Tumblr is the only place I have seen where people actively go out of their way to out-marginalize each other, to see who can get the most oppression points to use as an excuse to be an overall terrible human being.  Before they tell anyone else to “check their privilege” they desperately need to check their fucking entitlement.

Another reason why I care is the grave-standing.  People using recent tragedies to attack problems that were completely unrelated to them to begin with, in order to further some twisted agenda.

The most recent example of this I can think of is the recent and tragic suicide of Leelah Alcorn.

When I read Leelah’s suicide note, my heart broke.  I couldn’t stop tearing up.  I didn’t want her death to be in vain.  I wanted people to know what happened to her, and that if they are ever in need of someone, they are not alone.  I was there to listen.

However, my sadness quickly turned to rage when I found out people were attempting to use her as a scapegoat to further their own twisted agendas.

To quote a specific example, Brianna Wu used her as an excuse to attack GamerGate, saying “look what GamerGate is doing to trans women” when Leelah never mentioned a single thing about the hash tag.

Others were using her to promote their twisted brand of feminism, claiming that her death was a result of misogyny, rather than asshole parents who drank too much of the Jesus Juice. 

It makes me so mad.  I can’t help but to talk about it, and there’s no way in hell you can convince me to keep quiet about it.

To tell me to get off the website if it bothers me is such a fucking copout.  It isn’t like watching TV and changing the channel if something you don’t like comes on, there are real fucking people at stake.  I can’t turn off something that could effect a friend of mine, hurt a genuinely good cause, or is deliberately spreading misinformation.

You know those stupid fucking pronouns I mentioned eons ago?  That they were making trans folks look more like freaks than people already make them out to be?

Well guess what?  Because of those morons, several trans friends of mine are no longer being taken seriously about their dysphoria by their parents.  And you want to know why?  They found one of those stupid fucking blogs, and assumed that their child was simply going through a phase that would pass in a year or so, and is now refusing to give them the help and therapy they need.

And you want me to just ignore that shit?

To turn it off?

To seep it under the rug?

Not a chance in hell.

I care about people I meet.  People I hang out with year after year.  Even if it’s only a few days a year at conventions, I still give a fuck about them.  I want to help them however I can.  And if helping involves being a blowhard asshole and putting idiots in their place then so be it.