#bitch if u had that kind of work environment you would not be the team you are now BE SERIOUS

[gayferrari]

i agree with everything you said about max and rbr under the last ask, i’m a fan of max sometimes, but it makes me roll my eyes when i see posts about how he deserves sm better than his team and that he’s the only one putting in the hard work 🥺🥺🥺. like why are you acting like he hasn’t had the best car on the grid for like 2 years until now, with the same team and strategists that helped produce all his wins.

Thank you for supporting my #team rights agenda! I feel strongly like that about any narratives about drivers carrying the team especially when it's a team that can compete for podiums. It's just not how F1 works. If you have a team where A DRIVER can make that much of a difference, it would simply not be the kind of team that makes it out of Q1. Now if we stuck both Lewis and Max in the Saubers, maybe they'll finally score points there, and it would also be really fucking funny. But that's Sauber

[prettyboykatsuki]

afflictions | u. ochako

♡ tags ; gn!reader, fluff, office relations, mentions of drinking, best friend bakugou (to ochako), from halloween that i just finished lol

♡ wc ; 1.3k

♡ a/n ; this is selfship content ngl. but its okay. ochako i want u sooo bad

♡ synopsis ; ochako has been avoiding her office crush post a halloween fiasco and it's starting to weigh on her conscience.

"You're way over thinking this, Uravity."

Bakugou casts Ochako a glance as she sighs over her cup of tea. He might be right, but for the minute it doesn't mean anything. She frowns, burying her face in her hands.

For the first time since highschool, Ochako Uraraka is head-over-heels pining. There's good news and bad news.

The good news is that the person she likes has a decently high chance of liking her back if the universe isn't just playing her like a fiddle. The bad news is that they work together, not even as Hero's. Ochako's in love with someone from the research department in the agency, a co-worker.

She can feel Bakugou's eyes boring lasers into her head but she can't help it. This whole situation has blown out of proportion and what was once a thirsty passing office crush is a full-blown romantic entanglement and Ochako is entirely too interested in seeing it through. That's why she can't keep her eyes off you, leaned on the side of a cubical, laughing at some joke that Kirishima is relaying to you.

She leans her palm against her cheek before dropping her head against the table.

"Bakugouuu," She whines, wanting to bury herself away "What do I do?"

"Stop being a little bitch and talk to them." He offers, without remorse. Ochako shoots him a glare.

"It's not that easy."

"Oh my god, Cheeks—yes, it fucking is. Are you an idiot? They make fucking heart eyes at you every time you talk to them. It's disgusting."

Ochako giggles.

"Wait, really?"

"Like I said, disgusting. Why the fuck would I lie to you? I'm not Denki, I don't give a fuck. I'm just not blind."

Ochako sighs. That's true.

It wasn't always this.. complicated. Maybe that's the word. At first, Ochako was just interested in your appearance. You looked more put-together than the rest of the people in your team and you had a sort of easy-goingness that she was naturally drawn to. She likes looking at you, soft features but sharp and bright eyes.

The first time you two spoke was out of necessity. You were gathering information on the effects of exposure to violence over time within a bunch of heroes and needed permission from a bunch of different people. You chose Ochako because of her unique position as a rescue hero.

And at first, your little meetings were all work related. Surveys and scans and whatever important stuff the job entailed. Ochako's fluttery feelings started surfacing half-way through then, when your jokes became more relaxed. Your demeanor changed. You were starting to be comfortable with her and she liked that.

She's always thought this but she's a little drawn to people who were a little mild. The attractive, smooth way you spoke stopped being a passing thought. Gentle, intelligent, not too familiar but open-minded.

The final nail in the coffin was at Sero's Halloween party where you'd shown up in a lazy werewolf costume with shitty clip-in ears and a leash around your neck - fake fangs getting in the way of your cup. Ochako went as red-riding hood, a coincidence. Maybe it was the alcohol or the comfortable environment.

She doesn't know. She does know that with a few shots in her, she was dragging you around by the collar of your shirt calling you her big bad wolf and you followed her every whim. Let her sit in your lap and even took her home when she got drunk - with a text the next morning reading "hope you slept well, red."

Ever since then, Ochako's been.. kind of avoiding you. She doesn't want to. She's just... too embarrassed to look you in the face. Given her drunkeness, she doesn't remember everything. How you reacted to her, mostly. What if you weren't into her?

It's assuring to hear Bakugou so confident about it but it doesn't ease her nerves all the way.

"You know that new intern that came in last week?"

Ochako hums absent-mindedly.

"She confessed to your little lovebird yesterday." Bakugou says with a sigh. Ochako nods at first before freezing, hand slamming on the counter.

"Wait are you serious?"

"Don't miss your chance, Cheeks." Bakugou says with a sigh.

She takes a minute to gear herself up before stepping out of the kitchen into the office. She catches your eye first, waving and you immediately seem surprised before relaxing into a smile.

Kirishima whispers something to you, seemingly, before you punch his arm and wave him goodbye. Once he leaves, Ochako walks over to you - stopping just in front of you. You give her a grin.

"Thought you ran away from me, Red."

Ocahko feels her stomach flutter with familiar nerves. She resents how good you are at making her flustered.

"I didn't run anywhere." She counters. You chuckle, leaning your head against the wall.

"Good to know. Thought for sure you were leaving me out to dry."

"I wasn't though," She whines, a little taken by your smile "I was just... y'know."

"Do I know?"

"Ugh, seriously. I was just embarrassed, okay? I wasn't gonna avoid you forever." She mumbles, arms crossed over her chest.

Your expression softens a little just for her, and if Ochako didn't see it with her own two eyes - she wouldn't be able to believe it. You smile a little more.

"Yeah? I'm relieved. Thought maybe I should've been a little more strict with you. Assumed I made you uncomfortable."

"Oh, god - not at all, I just couldn't... remember every single thing. I thought maybe you were mad."

"As if I'd ever be mad at you? C'mon now." And you're there again, charming the wits of off her "I had a good time. It was fun being bossed around by you. Maybe I should've applied for sidekick after all."

She covers her face in embarassment.

"You're the worst."

"Big bad wolves usually are."

"Oh my god, shut up. You're so awful!"

You put your hands up in self-defense and she's in a fit of giggles. Heart fluttering so hard she feels like a teenage girl again. She musters up some more courage and looks at you.

"I'm glad I didn't ruin your night."

"I'm glad I didn't ruin yours," You reply back, leaning in a little "Missed seein' your pretty smile."

"Jeez. No wonder all of interns are falling for you."

"Now where'd you hear that from?"

She scoffs a little, playful but sarcastic.

"I've got eyes everywhere, obviously. Do you talk to everyone like that or something? Those poor, naive girls. They don't even know what they're signing up for."

You huff some air through your nose, eyes lowered.

"And what would that be?"

"A wolf in sheeps clothing."

You laugh at her little joke.

"Have some faith me in, will you? I already turned her down."

"Really?"

She makes an attempt at masking her excitement but it's not with much effort. You nod, hands in your pockets.

"Yeah. Told her there was someone else I was interested in."

Ochako feels her heart pound.

"There is?"

"Sure is. Except, she's techincally my boss so I don't really know how I should go about telling her. Tough luck."

Holy shit. You mean her. You give her a coy smile, reaching a hand out to pat her head before you leave.

"I'll see you at lunch, Red."

"Y-yeah. See you,"

You crack one more smile before turning the other way, giving her a final wave before mozying off in the other direction. When she's sure your out of earshot, her knees nearly give in from what was basically a confession.

She turns her head back to the breakroom before running towards, stumbling back in to Bakugou over a cup of coffee. He gives her a bored stare.

"Holy SHIT,"

"Told you so,"

[kyu-bri]

Magia Rapport pt 2

@magiarapport​

August 24th prompt: What was your favorite event, and why? Is it because of gameplay or the story?

It’s hard to choose so I’m gonna just, gush a bit.

As you can probably tell I’m very biased toward the OG girls, I started Magia Record primarily because PMMM had become my new obsession and I wanted some sort of constant flow of content out of decade old anime lmao.

But another thing I think I hooked onto was Inu Curry’s writing. They really know Madoka Magica and aren’t afraid to really play with them- something the writers for a spin-off gacha game (as with most spin-off stories honestly) can be scared to do. Inu Curry made references, revealed secrets and built upon the story we already know- which lets be honest is what we always truly want from a spin-off series. Magia Record proper does this well by putting more magical girls into the world and letting us see things work out better for them than for the original cast, but what I really appreciated with this story was getting to see that old original cast get to get in on that, and these events managed to do that without watering them down any.

Under the cut is me going on for 3000 words about why I love these three events I’m so sorry. TL;DR at the very end-

I’ll go in release order,

A La Carte Valentine was one of the first if not THE first event I got in on. I was eager to bc 1 Gay Magical Girl Shit Guaranteed. And ofc 2 OG Cast participation.

I want to preface by saying I actually loved all the girls’ stories in this. I was very much still in a state of getting used to Iroha’s gang let alone trying to care about the secondary girls. I knew Tsukasa had this angsty Twins Separated At Birth Deal and liked seeing her home life (also I immediantly stanned Take. Regular well-meaning dude who has no idea whats going on just trying his best and hating his boss). I knew nothing about Ami except Cowgirl Meguca and getting the bulk of her personality in one short even I think really kept me from being absolutely sick of her, she’s just a cute silly teenage girl who could be in literally anything and I was able to just endearingly giggle at that. Hinano managed to do the heterosexual unrequited crush cliché without me groaning or missing any of her regular personality. Also was there a Ren part? I don’t remember because everything Ren does feels like a Soft Yuri Valentines Special. Also I love Momoko. Ok moving on to what I Really wanna talk about.

Madoka is genuinely my Least Cared About of the Holy Sextet. I don’t think she’s bad or even boring- Madoka has a depth to her character, like, really deep- but that’s not something ever really touched upon by the fandom. Even when people like her and make her the Heroine she’s Supposed to be, it’s usually in the context of “Girl who feels nothing but kindness and happy thoughts would cut off her right hand to feed to a hungry dog. Isn’t she so Good????”. And honestly, while I understand the point it was going to make, I wasn’t crazy about her sacrifice in the end of the series. (Team Homura “Rebellion Is Good Actually” ftw) All because I think that I’m an Adult Woman watching this like “You are 14yrs old and need to be home playing Sims and not sacrificing yourself for the greater good you stupid silly little baby girl”

So my point is here near all fan content I encounter tends to emphasize whats sort of my least favorite facet of Madoka. I don’t think she made the ‘wrong’ decision in the context she and the story were given, but it’s still a sad thing to show a depressed(!!!) insecure girl resolving to give away her very existence so that every other girl on earth has a chance to just Dream. Oh and they still usually die young. But that’s ok because then she takes them and lets them sleep peacefully forever in her Heaven Basement (Yes I am bitter stan Homura I would yank this savior complex infant girl out the sky too)

MY POINT BEING (The servers closing let me BLEED OUT ALL MY FEELINGS) This event did not do that!!! It made Madoka…….. EVERYTHING SHE SHOULD BE??? ALWAYS??? Showed her HOW WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO VIEW HER??? (Read: Happy and Alive and Confident at no foreboding or sacrifice of anyone else!!!!)

She is Sassy and Surrounded By Friends and Really Funny??? And we get this Ridiculous Oh My God On Crack metaphor about her being this all-powerful apocalypse bringing being which is representing her love for the universe through her Witch form of Wanting Everyone To Be Happy And Safe With Her??? And she still risks herself to save everyone as is her Thing to do but we get to have her do it without erasing her existence as a human being at the end and if that is not some GOOD SHIT????

Ok next:

NGL Sayaka’s (fav character, inarguable best girl, can u not tell) parts in MagiReco til like the last arc have always left me a bit disappointed. She was the only late comer of the OG girls from what I understand and it kind of gives her the air of what a lot of the second(/thirdary?) girls suffer from. You can tell the writers can’t even figure out a trope to apply her to to make her easy and two dimensional to write about so they just don’t know what to do. They definitely try to make up for it (especially in the anime which Praise Be but that’s probably Inu Currys doing) but she’s still lacking like, any of the depth of her personality. Which, I guess I could anticipate. Because most of the fandom tends to as well. (again)

Gonna stop complaining and get on with- That didn’t feel as much the case in her Valentine event. Sure it was still the same formula of “The Issue Is Kyosuke” but that didn’t play out as grueling as her personal story did with “Nine Episodes Of “The Issue Is Kyosuke””

There was one big glaring heart-aching detail of “Mami isn’t really there because SHES IN A FUCKING CULT RIGHT NOW” which kind of jarred the event out of the ho-hum silly valentines sidestory these events usually keep up.

Sayaka has this crisis about Doing Anything Meaningful With Kyosuke which we all know what That’s calling back to, but in this environment we get to have Kyoko come right up and be in a position with her to earnestly and affectionately Push Her To Do It. The lonely little tsundere bitch girl pushes her Not Friend to Give The Bastard The Gotdamn Chocolate Already and for a moment you can only think about What If’s and If Only’s. Sayaka’s is still the weakest of the threes stories in this event but it worked harder to show us different sides of the characters then 6 chapters of Another Story managed to do.

And then there’s fucking Homura.

I will be, eternally grateful for Kuro. As a character that becomes metaphorical for the 2D ways we initially viewed the feathers and just NPCs in games in general, and also like, giving Homura a friend she actually cares about that isn’t the tangled dark web of Bullshit she’s gotten tied up with Madoka in. Please ask me about all my AU’s where Kuro is Homuras first girlfriend.

Seeing Moemura in Magia Record has always been a bit surreal, we never really understand just what stage of Trauma this Homura is in because Multiverses Are Hell, but this event gives us a good chunk of a Homura who still has hope and faith both in the world and Madoka. Theres this wonder to her that while still bogged down by terrible experiences still has the energy to be Trying. And she sees a girl who used to be like her- which when you think about it is probably what Madoka saw in her- and she wants to help. Because Madoka helped her. And Madoka is the best thing in the universe and maybe Homura can be just a little bit closer to that.

Kuro is too far gone though, as is the reality frequently in this series, things don’t work out just because of circumstance. Kuro was a bullied, insecure little girl who realistically shouldn’t have had to become a rampaging monster because of it. We’re reminded of this being the reality of the Madoka universe. Homura, is reminded of this reality. Homura loses this one chance to bring hope into the world like Madoka brought hope into hers.

And then her story ties into the ending of Madoka’s. Madoka saves her life yet again, even as Homura continues to feel miserable and empty. But at least Madoka is with her. The girls then share a quiet, intimate Valentines together. And you sort of understand how Homura fell so far into the darkness that the only thing she was able to still care about and fight for was Madoka’s safety.

That shit slaps. It slaps you right in the heart and causes fucking bruising but then u want it to do it again because you’re masochistic and Meguca Is Suffering.

Anyway I hope Kuroe slaps our hearts more in season2

MOVING ON!!!!

~Nagisa’s Wish~

Ok, I don’t remember what got me so simp over Nagisa, I think it was the heart-aching irony that Mami adopts the witch that fucking ate her. But that is my baby now and I’d die for her. Fandom Charlotte whose pink and silly and loves her mom and is Mami’s cancer-riddled girlfriend is cool and all but she isn’t a tiny Halloweeny baby whose fucking bitter angry and manically obsessed with cheese due to PTSD.

I had saw a summary of Nagisa’s Wish reposted just to quickly explain Nagisa’s backstory, and as such immediately had to search out if that crazy ride was true- so I actually watched this whole event probably before I downloaded the game. It was surreal on its own but replaying it when it came to NA didn’t lessen it any- I got to process more of what I was witnessing and as result stanned Yu pretty hard.

I guess to explain my Emotions here, saving Yu for later- calls for me to just, describe who Nagisa is as a human being and my headcanons surrounding it all with what this event gave us. Whether you consider it canon or not it’s one version of events that we were given and that I am all for accepting.

Nagisa’s Mom was a celebrity, she could have been an actress though I also like the idea of her being an Idol. She met Nagisa’s Dad oh-so romantically and got knocked up- they very well could have been married but it doesn’t seem clear enough. He seems to have left too suddenly for legal matters like that. Nagisa is approximately 11, and while she seems to remember her Father, she doesn’t in the sense of having had a relationship with him or any feelings. Her Mother has to “explain” why he left, so Nagisa was probably still young even if not a baby. What I’m getting at here is the timeline for when Nagisa’s Mom Got Like That. Nagisa can remember her from before she was, and then says that she got sick after her Dad left. So what I’m wondering is did Daddy Momoe ruin this young rich girls life, give her syphilis and then leave her with a baby she was unfit to care for in poverty? I know half of this is running on anime logic but Holy Shit all the possible ways reasons and ideas for why things could’ve gotten This Bad.

Is it ridiculously dark and edgy that the original story we were given was “Girl wishes her dying mother could have her favorite cake but then realizes OOPSIE-DAISY I could have wished for her to Not Die instead!!!!” got turned into “11yr old hates her abusive mother so much she wants to make her suffer in the most symbolic way she can and then goes mental when she isn’t able to do it”??? Yes. But if I had the mental capacity to I have to admit I was in a position to be just as bitter at that age too. I can’t call it unrealistic. I may infact be projecting hard with how much I support and enjoy this backstory.

Anyway Nagisa was in such a state of trauma and distress at a horrifically young age when she died that it broke her mental faculties so severely that even when she came back as a literal Angel of God she had blocked it out so deeply and thoroughly she seemingly regressed to an even younger capacity and hyperfixated on the trait that she has before used to try to bond with her Mother who she had died hating.

And that also slaps u right in the heart.

A N D T H E N !

~Beachside Bonds~

Just the simple structure of this story was so enjoyable and nicely done. We finally get to see the OG girls in a context we wouldn’t be able to in literally any other scenario. They’re going on a summer vacation together and Homura is sentimentally journaling every single second of it. Is this mayhaps because she’s never gotten to be this happy and blissful with these girls she loves so much??? Of course this is are you not paying attention what the fuck. Homura is so optimistic and healed and hopeful she’s acting like what she might actually be doing as a normal teenage girl. (A heartrending contrast to the end of her Valentines Special)

We get nothing short of pure fluffy Slice Of Life shenanigans on the beach which even includes a bunch of the Kamihama girls that the OG crew knows! And they talk about it! And introduce eachother! And their friends commentate on it! Ren gets to see Kyoko Not Being A Bitch and then Sayaka teases her about having made friends and oh my god my heart is turning into cottoncandy as we speak Mom holy FUCK

Sayaka’s existence fucking matters in this story! It’s her families Hotel they’re staying at and she has relationships and memories with the creepy twins that live there and she talks like a fucking person??? And gives opinions??? That aren’t just copypasted “Justice is Good and Bad things are BAD!!!!”

Mami is fresh out of her fucking Cult Drama and she’s still trying to be cool Senpai but then she DECKS Homura in the face and gets scared by the ghost stories and then turns into pudding and waxes nostalgia at Kyoko out of nowhere IT’S ALMOST LIKE SHE’S A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL????????

G H O S T S ? ? ? ?

Y U ! ? ! ? ! ? !

(IS G A Y ! ! ! !)

This whole fucking backstory and truly horrifying Romeo and Juliet on Acid love and death story between Yu and her girlfriend and like if I wasn’t fascinated enough by Yu just being the creepy organ harvester before but apparently thats what she became after she literally made some sort of wish that erased all of her memories besides the nickname her sweetheart used for her and coincidentally also added to her the task of killing all Bad People?????

Yu made a wish to be able to get rid of All Bad People preserving the innocent version of herself who grew up with this girl and it was right after a failed double suicide attempt on fucking Doomed Lovers Cliff fucking Lifetime Will You Ever.

It then pairs with Homura whose PTSD gets to shine through a bit in being unable to believe any bad sort of Madoka which how could you try to force her to at this point while Also pairing Homura with Ren in the “Gay Love Saved Our Lives: Traumatized vers & Vanilla vers”

I don’t remember if there was a symbolic finale and tbh I have forgotten a lot of the details with Yu and her girlfriend Whatsherface because that shit was just so shocking and bizarre to read and much too painful to reread in a timely fashion just.

That shit hurted but it was full of so much love and hope both doomed and stolen but still was wrapped up in the comforting concept that This Is The Universe Where Homura Gets To Be Okay This Time.

She’s still scarred beyond comprehension and this ghost drama accentuated it all but at the end of the day this is still the Safe Universe where all of them are alive and the Holy Quintet are friends and they’re all going to be okay (Godoka & Aniplex willing) and so many of us love Madoka Magica because it shows girls fighting through the same pain we’ve been through and keeping their hope alive and here we get to see them actually find peace in a clunkily written fanservicey spin-off mobile gacha game and hey, that made me happy while I got to experience it. Thanks for the ideas and memories and tragic backstories and funny thirdary characters MagiReco I’m gonna take em all and Run.

Akjsladbfalkjfsbslk If you read this all without getting a migraine or blocking me ily thanks for listening!!!!!!

TL;DR

Me likey A La Carte Valentine bc it’s silly and gay and I simp Kuro

Me likey Nagisa’s Wish bc sawft baby is good and so are Tragic Edgy Backstories

Me likey Beachside Bonds bc Gay Ghosts and Our Girls Finally Get To Be Happy Peaceful(ish) Teenage Girls and that’s all I want for them ;w;

Reeses In Pieces ya’ll

1Ten 2More 3Words 4To 5Hit 6(3000 7Words 8Woo 9Boy 10Howdy

[irwinkitten]

knockout round | a.i

(gif credit to @asht0ns-world )

pairing: reader x boxer!ashton notes: so the who do you love video lowkey inspired this. even tho the majority of the video is lowkey pointless, the looks that ashton was giving the camera gave me such a boxer!ash vibe and lets be real i’m a hoe for possessive and jealous ash. thank u to @asht0ns-world @singledadharrington, @gorgeouslygrace, @sugarcoated-pain and @5sosnsfw for letting me throw out my ideas of this and killing you all with the potential plot ideas. also thank u christa for being the best cheerleader, i love u angel. and massive thank u to lena for finding the gif bc my laptop has issues warnings: violence, smut word count: 3.1k!! 

---

Boxing had always been apart of Ashton’s life. He’d never really known a part of his life without it.

As a child, his temperament was always short. Teachers called him the problem child and people never wanted to be his friend. But he still managed to find three friends and forge a tight bond with them that people often called them brothers without even realising there was no familial resemblance to the quartet.

When his mother had enrolled him into boxing classes, after expressing an interest in the programs that he watched with his parents, they soon realised that with the lessons that he went to, his anger simmered down and his fuse seemed to get longer with each passing year.

By the time that Ashton had reached his late teens, he was the lightweight champion of the area. As he continued to grow, put on the muscle, and move up in the divisions, he was making a name for himself. He was one that wasn’t to be messed with.

As his name gained traction with the media, so did stories of his childhood, his anger. And he was a lot more honest about his childhood than most boxers.

“I had a good environment. But I have anger issues and I know that I have them. It’s taken years of hard work to get to where I am today, but I know that the driving force has always been my anger. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

His competitors could never find his achilles heel. His love life was never a subject that he talked or posted about, and despite a few competitors going below the belt and making remarks about his mother that would’ve angered any man, he’d held his cool and then thoroughly beaten them the next day.

When she came into his life, it was steady. She’d just come from a bad relationship, her heart in tatters and the two of them shopping late night. He’d been running for last minute prep and she’d decided to drown her sorrows in alcohol and ice cream. She knew his name, knew his title that he held in the boxing world.

But she didn’t care. All she cared about was he’d picked up the last tub of her favourite ice cream and just at her absolutely defeated look, it prompted him to offer her a deal.

“Let me at least take you out somewhere for the day where we can be kids again. I’ve got some days off coming up anyway.”

His words had prompted the smallest of smiles as she accepted his offer as he handed her the ice cream and she gave him her number, under the stipulation that he wouldn’t be creepy about it.

And despite giving her a mock offended look, he understood her wariness of giving her number to someone who was essentially a complete stranger.

From then on, she became a rock in his life who seemed to have his back regardless. His three friends from childhood who’d all become apart of his management team as he gained status with his boxing, noticed how he was always in better moods, he stuck to the plans before fights and before long the friendship blossomed into a relationship that he was protective of.

But of course, whilst in the media spotlight, he knew that keeping such a relationship quiet was always going to be impossible.

But the day that it’d been announced that he was against her ex, the very one who left her a broken woman in the ice cream aisle, he knew that this fight was going to be important, whether she acknowledged it or not, this was payback for hurting the beautiful woman he was resolutely in love with.

He’d never been so revved for a match before.

Ashton knew that she was worried, that her bottom lip would be shredded beyond belief from her teeth. But he wasn’t.

Dean Martin has gone the wrong way to rile him up, to use his girl as verbal bait. And hearing the derogatory terms, Ashton wasn’t too sure if he was grateful that Calum’s hand on his bicep reminded him where he was, or if he was still annoyed over it.

He was certainly annoyed that the hand turned into a restraining arm when Martin had made a comment of bedding his girl, with or without her permission. He’d seen red and as rage flooded his body, his muscles locked up, ready to pound the fucker down.

Calum had hastily pulled Ashton away from his opponent, opting to keep the distance between them so that Ashton wouldn’t be tempted to knock Martin out before the match.

The headlines went wild with those shots and the look of undiluted rage on Ashton’s features. People were very quickly realising that even he has his limits and Dean Martin had managed to break those limits clean.

Being with her before the match, his hands were firmly around her waist as she stood between his legs. Despite his trainer telling him no distractions, she was never a distraction. Only an anchor. And right now he needed to ground himself because the last thing he wanted to do was lose this fight to someone like Dean Martin.

“Baby, you’ve got this fight in the bag.” She hummed softly, her lips ghosting across his cheek. Ashton sighed.

“I hate the fact that it’s your ex I’m fighting.” He finally admitted and she sighed, her fingers running through his hair. His eyes fell shut of their own accord, her touch soothing the rage that was bubbling under the surface. Martin’s comments still rang in his ears.

“He wasn’t a good man. You’re the better man, better partner.” The words were soft, almost caressing his soul and he felt reassured.

“Only because of you, sweet girl. I’m better because of you.” Her lips curved up into a wry grin as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’m proud of you Ash. You’ve got this fight in the bag, and if that boy tries what he did for the weigh in, I won’t be angry or upset. Lord knows you’ve told me time and again that anyone disrespecting me within earshot of you will earn them either a verbal lashing or a physical one depending on their words.” Her tone was teasing, reminding him that she wouldn’t be angry with him.

It’d been an issue at first, his verbal and physical responses to people being either disrespectful or derogatory about his girl. But only when he told her his reasons, how he was raised to respect a woman, regardless of any kinds of relationship, she understood that it was something that he could tone down but not necessarily control.

And they compromised on it. He tried to keep it to verbal smackdowns, and only if someone threw the first punch, did he defend himself. His reputation grew within months and soon when they’d been together for two years, he was at the top of his career.

“Irwin, ten minutes. Your girl needs to go.” Calum had re-entered the locker room, giving her a brief smile. “Seats for you are close to ringside. He’s on the blue corner.” She nodded, pressing another gentle kiss to his forehead before making her way, ruffling Calum’s hair as she did.

Ashton laughed at the disgruntled look on Calum’s face and he could feel his body begin to gear as he did the last minute stretches.

“Martin’s going to hit hard and fast. You need to be swift. Don’t use everything you have until he starts to wear down.” Ashton nodded, focusing on the aspect of the fight, rather than who he was fighting. He couldn’t let his anger cloud his judgement or moves, not so early on into the match.

Calum was soon hustling him to the entrance corner, both of them knocking fists together before he rushed ahead to prep his area. As the music began playing, he pulled the silk robe on, the hood falling just over his eyes as he made his way out, loud screams causing a smirk to slip on his features as he began the walk through, Luke and Michael following behind at this point and keeping people on the floor seats from mobbing him.

Martin was stood scowling, doing a last minute stretch as his gloves were being put on. Once Ashton was in the ring, Calum was there, pulling the robe off and getting the gloves onto his wrapped up hands.

“Remember, you might be fucking angry with him, but I swear to god Irwin, if you let this fucker beat you, I’ll kick your ass myself.” This caused Ashton to crack a smile before Calum put the mouth guard in and Ashton went and met the ref in the middle. He and Martin touched gloves before the bell went and the first swing came from Martin, aiming for the jaw, causing Ashton to bend backwards to avoid getting clocked.

The noise was deafening and Ashton knew his focus was slipping as Martin landed in some good punches. It was getting close and he could feel himself dropping as he lost the round, his lip bloody and a cut on his cheek, half staggering back to Calum who seemed to be trying his best not to berate him.

But then she was there beside Calum, her hands on his cheeks once he’d been checked over.

“Do me proud, Ashton Fletcher. I know you can beat him.” And his second wind came as the next round got ready.

“Gonna let your bitch lean over for me later when I win? It’s all she ever really was good for.” The comment was crass, but the fuse was lit.

“Irwin, don’t let anger cloud your judgement here.” Calum snapped harshly. The last thing they needed was his focus to be lost, but if anything, his focus was sharpening. And he could feel the anger bubble under his skin.

“C’mon Irwin. Make sure to share the spoils. I mean, she’s second hand goods, surely you’re not still with her?” Ashton’s eyes caught hers and he could see she’d heard his calls. His fuse seemingly got shorter as he gave her a reassuring smile, taking the offered water and taking a few seconds to calm his racing heart.

“How about this, I share her with some buddies and drop her back to you. She might be in reasonable condition if she doesn’t fight like she used to. Always feisty until I got her to see sense, if you catch my drift.” The smirk on Martin’s lips as the words left his mouth snapped something inside of Ashton and the anger that had been bubbling, flooded.

And he was furious.

The bell went and Ashton immediately had Martin on his back foot, unable to even get close for a hit as Ashton’s fists repeatedly went for him, reminding himself to not murder his opponent.

It didn’t take long before there became a real look of fear in Martin’s eyes and Ashton felt no ounce of sympathy as he landed a knockout and the crowd roared in approval. It didn’t take long before the last round was won and his arm was being raised, a bruised rib protesting as he was handed the belt and his lips curved into the widest smirk.

Martin was lucky to get away with the injuries that he got. Two visible black eyes, a few cuts and Ashton was almost certain he managed to at least fracture a rib with the force of his hit at one point. Part of him wished that he broke something clean but he’d take what he could get in this fight. Knowing that he’d gotten what he deserved, settled the anger to a simmer, the adrenaline still flooding his body.

As he exited the ring, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling his girl into his side, his lips meeting hers in a soft, sweet kiss, ignoring the disappointed noises. Once he pulled away, his gaze moved to Martin, staring at him out, his grip only getting marginally tighter until he left the opposite side.

Ashton retreated back to his side, his arms still firmly around her as the medic double checked the rib to make sure it was only bruised and not broken, before clearing him to go and get cleaned up.

She didn’t protest as he pulled her with, her back pressed against the cold tiles as his lips met her neck, the hot water beating down on his back.

“All mine to care for, to love on.” He murmured against her skin, lips and teeth gently pulling at the skin. Her fingers lifted up to run through his hair, gripping the damp strands gently.

“All yours.” She whispered in return, a sharp gasp escaping as his lips had moved to her breasts, his teeth pulling on one nipple carefully as his hand worked the other. She was whining softly, his name escaping occasionally.

His lips moved from her breasts, trailing down as he got to his knees, a whine escaping her lips.

“Shouldn’t it be me rewarding you, handsome?” He shook his head at her words, moving her fingers back to his hair.

“All about you tonight, doll.” She was about to argue, but his tongue licked a stripe up her folds, a startled noise escaping her instead as she gripped his hair, his lips attaching to her clit. He worked two fingers inside of her as he nipped and sucked on her clit, the noises were somewhat beautiful sounds to his ears as she got closer to her orgasm.

Her fingers got tighter around his hair as she called out his name, his lips immediately beginning a journey back up her body slowly sliding his fingers out as he stood up, lifting his fingers to her lips, tapping them gently.

They parted under his touch and her tongue swirled around his digits, a groan escaping his lips as she cleaned them. He wasted no time as he pulled them free, his lips meeting hers as he lined up against her entrance.

“You’re far too good to me, princess.” He groaned as he slid in, her legs lifting off the ground to wrap around his waist. His hands immediately moved to cup her ass as his hips began to move against hers, moans escaping the both of them.

He knew that he wasn’t going to last too long, not with the protesting rib, so one hand slid from her ass, moving to her clit as he picked up his pace. Her words were half begging, incoherent as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As she came, her eyes falling shut, his head dropped to her shoulder as he reached his own orgasm, her name tumbling from his lips like a prayer, her fingers still working through his hair, their breathing heavy as he pressed gentle kisses on the marks he’d left on her skin.

“I love it when you mark me like that. I know I’m always yours, but seeing them, just sets my insides on fire.” She murmured as he pulled out from her, finally allowing her under the stream of hot water. She kept her hair from the stream of the water as she allowed it to hit her skin.

“Just as I’m yours, sweet girl. I’m sorry if I hurt you though.” His fingers ghosted across the red marks left by his fingers, and she shook her head at him.

“You of all people know that I love seeing them.” She murmured as she reached over, taking the shampoo and working it into his hair. His eyes fell shut at her ministrations and didn’t argue with her. She always told him she loved seeing the marks, but sometimes it didn’t stop the guilt flooding him.

He worked the shower gel along her body as she conditioned his hair. They worked in silence until she’d gotten the suds of the shower gel off his body. His hands switched the water off as her lips slowly moved across from his shoulder, along his collarbone before finding the junction of his neck and shoulder, trailing her lips along the column of his throat.

A soft noise escaped his lips as she reached his jaw, before her lips reached his once more, her hands taking a hold of his head, her palms firmly planted against his cheeks. He knew better than to look away from her when she was this determined.

“I love you, Ashton Irwin, and that won’t ever change. We have words for a reason, and you know I use them. Please don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart.” His lips met hers briefly before a sigh escaped.

“Sorry angel.”

“Your forgiven. Now, we need to get ready and head back home. I know that the boys will want to at least spend a quiet night in celebrating with you.” Her voice held amusement, knowing that despite her want for the two of them to continue their own celebrations, the other three would deliberately ruin that.

Ashton laughed.

“They’re too frightened to cross you, y’know. If you said that you were taking me home, they wouldn’t argue.” He commented as the two stepped from the shower and dried off. She lifted her shoulders into a shrug as she got re-dressed.

“I know, but I don't want them bitching at me, because I want days with you, not just a few hours. So they get the few hours and then I get days. And they know better than to show up unannounced after a match.” The grin that she wore made him laugh as he got dressed.

Once they were ready, his hand slid into hers, fingers interlacing as they headed out back to the waiting cars to get the two of them home. Michael was the first to throw his arm across Ashton’s shoulders as they trio caught up with the two.

“So, we’re drinking at yours then?” She raised an eyebrow pointedly at Ashton, Michael’s words simply proving her point. He rolled his eyes before grinning.

“Of course. M’lookin’ forward to the headlines that are gonna come out from this fight.” Calum laughed as he threw his own arm around her shoulders.

“They’re gonna point out how no one can seemingly knock you down. You’re like a rock.” Luke teased and Ashton rolled his eye as Michael moved his arm from his friends shoulders.

Once they reached his place, the other three didn’t protest as she helped check him over before all but ordering him to put his feet up. The others were about to make a comment, but one look stopped the thoughts dead in their tracks and she received sheepish smiles in return as she finally settled into his good side.

It was worth it all in her eyes.

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @glitterprincelu , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @cosmocalum , @monsteramongmikey , @talkfastfletcher , @hereforlukescruff , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @5saucewho , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @empathycth , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @sunny-sos , @negative-love , @softboycal , @kinglycalum , @you-of-ghost , @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @drummerboy794 , @itjustkindahappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts, @abitloudforanaccousticset, @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @dweebluke , @calumculture , @lashtoncurls , @wildhearthood , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @zooniah , @cakeassx-blog , @paqueretteash , @rotten-kandy , @vipclifford , @musiclover1263 , @rosecoloredash , @jpgluke , @cathartichaoss , @5secondssofssummer , @cozyfivesos , @balsamichood , @cliffordstxngue , @lukesbellas , @myloverboyash , @cxddlyash  , @gabiatthedisco , @rosesfromcth , @gorgeouslygrace , @calumsssparkle , @valentinelrh , @meetashthere , @softforcal , @cakesunflower , @hotmessmichael , @fangirlforever0704 , @caswinchester2000 , @long-termplanwithshort-termfixes , @josierosie , @ashtoniwir , @raabiac , @burncrashbromance , @killerlukesqueen , @angelbabylu , 

[sevenseasofrog]

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 2982

a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha

ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!

Chapter 1: September

4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night

6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.

The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.

There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.

No.

Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across

“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”

He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little

“You are joking, right?”

“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?

You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.

“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.

“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.

“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.

“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.

“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.

“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.

Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.

“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.

“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.

“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.

“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.

“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.

“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”

The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”

“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”

“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.

“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”

“What about google maps though??”

“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”

The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,

“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;

“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”

“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,

“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.

“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.

“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.

You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance

“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,

“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.

The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”

“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,

“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.

“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.

“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.

“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,

“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.

Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.

“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”

“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”

“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.

“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.

“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.

“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...

Hope you enjoy !!❤️

Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)

[girlbookwrm]

James Rhodes and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

THE MIGHTY ENDGAME REWATCH CONTINUES WITH IRON MAN 2

Typing this up the morning after The Roommate @goteamwin and I watched Iron Man Two and upon reflection, the movie is about 800x better if you  think of Rhodes or Nat as the POV character, with Tony as the main villain -- because let’s face it, Tony is always the main villain of the Iron Man franchise (and other franchises too, sometimes)

ANYWAY ON WITH THE REWATCH.

Ivan Vanko hiding with his face in the corner, clutching a bottle of Vodka is extremely hashtag relatable. Also, is he feeding his dying father vodka-soaked ice chips? is this an old Russian folk remedy? The Roommate says: it’s a nice foil to CATFA: “ah yes. you haff procedure tyomorrow. make sure you haff plenty of vodka. stay nice and hydrated.”

hey we saw all this last time. back in the days when Marvel still felt the need to recap. now they’re just like “HOPE YOU DID YOUR HOMEWORK BITCHES.”

Tony Stark is dropping out of a plane, in a weaponized exoskeletal suit, over New York City, in 2010. I know he's Tony Stark , but he should not be able to do any of this. (but tbf presumably Pepper arranged this YEARLONG EXPO (holy shit) and Pepper Potts can do Literally Anything.)

The backup dancers feel like another callback to CATFA but this came out BEFORE CATFA so maybe the backup dancers are a callback to this???? but in-universe, it's the other way around???????

i mean of course Tony built a specialized gadget to test his blood toxicity but also TONY YOU BUILT A SPECIALIZED GADGET TO TEST YOUR BLOOD TOXICITY??? GO TO THE DOCTOR

is that olivia munn?

pooOOTERRRRR

IS THAT KATE MARA??

oh no gary shandling noooooooo

“he insists it’s a shield” ohohoHOHOHOHOHOHoho burn.

but no, actually a burn because it’s deffo a callback to the Great Works that Howard Stark Did.

RIGHT RHODES!!!!!!!

ah yes. an LG starkphone. before Vevo got their dirty paws all over the Avengers product placement money

it’s nice of JARVIS to sum this up for us. And So Snarkily!

seriously, Tony is giving away his worldly possessions, talking legacy, quitting his job... HOW DOES PEPPER NOT SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE

Natalie Russian?

The Roommate points out that she hated ScarJo the first time she saw this, but now literally cuts her hair to look like ScarJo

this got me thinking about what this scene is like from Nat’s POV. She’s a KGB assassin, trained from (birth?? probably?) and she’s been with SHIELD no less than a year (if the Winter Soldier shot her while she was working for SHIELD in 2009) 

And now she has to do this shit.

elon musk?

Tony literally looks HIMSELF in the eye and says: “You got any other bad ideas?” TONY IS THE VILLAIN OF THIS PIECE.

in what way is tony qualified to do this

Poor Nat. “Get close to him” they said. “evaluate him for the avengers initiative” they said. “a plush assignment” they said. fuck you nick.

Vanko: ~cool guys don’t look at explosions~

TONY YOU BROUGHT A CHAIR TO A WHIP FIGHT. TONY YOU’RE A HOT MESS. YOU LITERALLY ARE. YOU ARE ON. FIRE.

I love the way the iron man suits keep getting smaller. i feel like this is a real reflection of how technology has evolved in the real world -- keeps getting smaller and faster and more advanced.

good work to the blonde extra standing behind justin hammer she is giving 112%

Vanko in his budgie smugglers here. He had literally no plan? he’s just, like, making it up as he goes? actually, wtf was he doing on the racetrack anyway? he didn’t know tony would be there??

~cool guys don’t look at explosionsss~

So Vanko Sr got shipped back to Russia but Zola gets to stick around long enough to turn into a bank of computers?

RIGHT RHODES!

Q U E E N S

the scene where Nat’s helping Tony get ready for the party:

The Roommate: See this is why I didn’t like Natasha the first time she turned up. I thought she was going to break up my OTP. Like. What-- what’s she doing here? 

Me: It’s a test. It’s all a test. It’s always a test. And Tony. Is. Failing.

Tony. what are you doing. tony. stop.

James Rhodes And The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, but also.

wwwwwow, rhodey is

Very.

Hot. 

Tony yelling at his own reflection again, because he’s a strong independant protagonist who don’t need no villain he can be his own villain, clearly.

They crossed the streams!

Rhodey manages to make the Iron Man mask look Disappointed. *patrick stewart voice* ~acting~

eyyy! it’s that guy from IM1!

hey let’s make an aside here, because earlier in the movie Tony mentions Uncle Sam and let’s just all agree right here right now that Rhodey and Sam definitely know each other. They know each other before Sam becomes an Avenger. first time Steve brings Sam to the tower and Rhodes is there, it’s like “OH HEY MAN HOW ARE YOU? STILL FLYING WITHOUT A PLANE? GOOD TO SEE U DUDE.”

they’re going to get along so well with Carol I’m already excited

oh hey Fury’s here.

I love how proud Fury is of his daughter.

his adopted russian daughter. Such A Proud Dad.

“a vodka fueled rage” he says. “not a good environment to raise a kid in” he says. And what kind of environment was tony raised in?

“you can solve the riddle of your heart” they sure did make Samuel L Jackson say those words. 

PHIL’S HERE

god i love phil

I love that Rhodes takes the arc reactor out before Hammer gets here.

“I call it the Ex Wife”

The Roommate: ugh of course you do.

I also love how deadpan he is. “I think I’ll take it.” “Which one?” “All of it.”

The Roommate: James Rhodes here, continuing to be Very Sexy. Don Cheedle is definitely sexier than Terrence Howard FIGHT ME.

Me: why would anyone fight you on that YOU’RE RIGHT

To answer my earlier question: A scotch-fueled rage.

Howard 2.0 being very Walt Disney here.

“I didn’t come here to apologize” MAYBE YOU SHOULD, BUDDY.

Pepper: No.

The Roommate: Pepper’s superpower is calling the authorities and saying no.

i love that pepper and nat are bros now, like. it’s like that story when the girl meets her boyfriend’s side chick and they become BFFs.

Tony figuring out the thing with the pavilions:

The Roommate: Tony really actually is smart, but it gets lost in all the bullshit.

PHIL’S HERE

Fanboy Phil.

“Not that much.” God I love phil.

B I C E P S

tony should always wear tank tops

always

side note: this is tesseract material, right? i mean we’re all agreed that the element that Tony rediscovers is whatever the Tesseract is made of. right? 

Justin Hammer: Maybe I’ll get laid.

The Roommate: You Will Not.

Pepper and Nat in matching outfits I love this.

Ok as soon as that glass starts falling -- i mean. all these people are dead, right? everyone who came to the expo is pretty much dead now.

JAMES RHODES AND THE TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO GOOD VERY BAD DAY

Pepper and Nat are the real dream team here.

“nice work kid” SO CUTE

OMG PROPERTY DAMAGE????

We Do Not Care for ScarJo’s Wig Here. This scene would’ve been so much better if she left her hair in that bun it was in earlier. her hair is all in her face all through this scene NAT WOULD NEVER BE THIS CARELESS, HAIR LIKE THAT IS GOOD FOR GRABBING AS EVERY WOMAN WHO HAS EVER WALKED IN THE DARK KNOWS

subnote: happy she does not require your assistance. 

Tony and Rhodes are literally playing a video game here, they might as well be back at MIT in Rhodey’s dorm room playing call of duty or whatever game they played back in the day.

they’re crossing the streams! 

The Roommate: I like the little vroom vroom noises the suit makes

“you deserve better”

Me And The Roommate: Yeah, she does.

“you couldn’t afford me.” Dat Ass, Tones. Dayum.

JAMES RHODES IS A NATIONAL TREASURE, GARY SHANDLING, GOOD OF YOU TO NOTICE

oh hey phil’s here

[asplashofblarn]

Writing Prompt

: You're allowed to steal from stores at the mall. The security guards don't care. They're there to shoot the mannequins if they come to life.

u/JoshuaFnBoyer

ACT I

The slog placed on my list of burdens during the morning due to that early onset of blissful grog was nothing new to me. If anything I became thankful for it weighing my face down into the slab of chipped marble that was my counter as I attempted to preform daily hygiene using the toothbrush. See I already know I'm ugly, no need to dwell on it. Nor my teeth for that matter and stacking on top of that continuing to waste all of this time sitting next to a slumbered me would make me late for my first day at my new job. There it goes again that sloggie beast just passing by flipping me off, don't feel bad you sad husk of a beast I hate me too. I hate me so much today that I awoke this morning, right now, with the same grinning monster looking right at me. Victory is yours today slog. Well I also suppose it was yours yesterday too, but last Wednesday I never woke up, because I never went to bed. Victory.

Oh how leaving my wonderful mess of sea blue sheets and bits of popcorn poking at my bum was very oh so much saddening, but duty calls. I looked at my cat Tibblez on the floor next to my bed laying on top of my shoes that I majestically slid out of as I sprawled into my resting place last night. Last night. Last night was a long one, I got all dressed up and went to wonderful restaurant to meet my mother and siblings for a rewarding meal and conversation about my new employment. No one showed up and I had some rolls and pasta, overall the meal was a bit too salty for such a fine dining establishment; part of me rings food is food. Once arriving back at my apartment I took off my watch then stood in the shower with the water on the hottest setting it could muster and peered down at my garb, my ensemble unappreciated.

Knowing I had a new job to start today I managed to quickly get done with all of my morning activities such as: feeding Tibblez; he liked wet food in the morning and dry at night. Brushing my teeth, finding a food on the pyramid to jam down my feeding hole, shaving that section between my eyebrows and putting on clothes so I could appropriately walk outside of home. As I stepped out of my apartment door I had the pleasure of not running into anyone strolling about to gaze at me and the elevator was for bitches so I took the stairs, I hope to one day be faster than an equestrian with these climbs and descends I tend to make a habit of. Not that I've never used the elevator. One floor, then two. I have been living on the third floor in room 307. Once reaching the bottom of the floor sequence you can then leave through the lobby or choose to be adventurous and continue your momentum down into the lower sanctum of the structure. Today, like everyday that has came since I moved into this complex, I chose to exit into the wonderful world of lobbies. No hustle and bustle or snacks or well any signs of an appropriate lobby. It was a mess with a little sign that read “UNDER CONSTRUCTION”

Today was the first day at my new job that I had just gotten my big human paws on and I was prepared to begin the gnawing process. My interview was two weeks ago and I didn't have much trouble it would seem earning the spot at this nice little spot of a mall close to my complex on the east side of town. With my kind of record, experience and resuméI had been finding it rather difficult to land a nice spot so I could try to build anew. But here we were at the front end sliding doors and from there to the back of the store where I could place my stuff on and blend into the working environment, into society really.

The security room was down a not too long of hallway with a blue scratched up door and a horizontal sign that read “security” across it. This is where I was supposed to enter in order to welcome myself into the first day of my job I had supposed, I looked around myself a bit and couldn't find a better way to move forward with that task, so I opened the blue door. “There you are. Nice to see you managed to find our little spot in time for the morning shift.” There were three men looking at me when I entered into the room and the one speaking was an older gentleman with a dusty white beard and the chest of a young construction worker. “Happy to be a part of the team here sir.” My response was just as I practiced, strong and polite. With a small grunt the younger man on his left got up and walked into a small closet and pulled out of it: one black shirt, a yellow jacket, a white ball cap, and a pair of red chucks. All this shit was my size too. “Nice bro you already gave your size, smart move cause some cats don't put it on the paper and we have to ask them a question about the dressing.” We both looked at the stack of stuff placed on the table as the other two stared at their cups of joe to get that slog off their backs.

We all left as one unit in our gear, my first day in gear had me feeling some of that pride you can hear about. Before we departed out little haven of the mall that lay behind the blue door we already had a game plan. The right side man from the gray beard who had greeted me, pulled out a map of the area in which we were employed at and placed it on the table we all had gathered about. “Listen up young blood cause I ain't repeating what had already past been said you hear me? We have four men now so we can play doubles rather than being oddball we can begin to form solid groups, this hasn't been possible in the last two months okay; hopefully our guy upstairs can pull another good soldier out of the dirt and we can form platoons or something out here. Alpha team which will be our fresh slice here and you Lamont, y'all gon start at the Tops Are Hot store in the far corner of the second floor. Me and dusty neck over here are working this bottom level. Please throw a shout over the walkie talkie if anything of note should arise. Alright.” We all nodded looking at the map.

Alpha was my team name, we were Alpha team and from what I had gathered out of the map reading is this was the first time for even team balance since two months previous to today. Alright then my mans name was Lamont. Once reaching the second floor of the mall we began progressing toward our instructed goal to begin our patrol. “Okay listen up here young doe, we start from the back and comb each sector until we reach the front where we report down to B eta then comb front to back.” I chimed in, “Making sure to get each sector right.” Lamont looking over to me, “Yeah get em' right.” He wiped his nose with a cupped claw and passed me the baton slamming my head to the right I noticed some ruffians up in the cosmetics store getting all up in some eyeliner, filling their pockets till they had to remove shoes just for that space it contained within the structure which encapsulated the human foot for both style and practicality.

“Lamont, over yonder we got some ruffians filling their pockets, practically looks like they bout to move on down to their shoes with it next.” The continuous sound of our feet let me know something was amiss. “Let em, them fellas know what's good for them they'll clear out before noon comes. Moms probably took a couple from pop over on their side.” I knew in my head that they were doing something bad but I knew in my wallet that this didn't make any sort of sense. The merchandise we were losing had to be damaging to the mall correct. A few moments later as we passed out of their view I could hear screams echoing from that direction and in front of me I could see the Tops Are Hot store sign at the end of the way. It's neon glow lit me up to the point I barely recognized the machine gun on top of sandbags placed at the front entrance. “Must be about noon.” Lamont said.

[orchiideous-blog]

❝ oh, look it’s niamh finnigan-thomas, a sixteen year old half-blood witch attending hogwarts. she is a sixth year gryffindor student. their friends would say they are fiesty + independent but can also be impulsive + stubborn. they are known around the castle as the firecracker. some swear they look like simay barlas but they would disagree. ❞

    it’s ya girl britt back again with intro number two for my my trash, but slightly more lovable spazzy babe niamh ! once again, you can add me on discord on britt.#6471 or hit me up in ims and i will love you down, but her info is below the cut. 

okay so this is my trash child niamh

she was born to a muggle bother in ireland, the product of a fling between an engaged wizard visiting from america over the summer. her mother was only seventeen at the time and quickly grew very attached to dominic, who was older than her. when she told him she was pregnant, he left her and returned to america, leaving her mother, aiyla, devastated. 

despite wishing to keep niamh, her being a piece of the not so wonderful summer love she could hold onto, aileen was severely injured in child birth and would soon die from the traumatic birth, leaving niamh orphaned.

news of her death reached dominic in america and he had niamh transferred to a wizarding orphanage, though he would never lie eyes on his daughter.

however, it was in this orphanage were she would get adopted, just before her first birthday and thus found a new life with seamus and dean finnigan-thomas.

niamh loves her dads more than anything in the world. they are her sun and her stars and she is forever grateful for the life they gave her and bringing her up in such a beautiful and loving environment. 

they are huge influences on her activism and one of the reason why she is so unafraid to speak her mind. will throw hands to anybody who insults them or insults her friends. probably threw toy trucks and people that looked at her dads weird in kindergarten 

has the same type of love with her friends, would throw hands in 0.2 seconds

niamh was a very full on child, constantly full of energy and having a dramatic flair from a young age. though dean and seamus had intended to adopt again, they had found this child to have their work cut out for them, and they were not the richest family, living in a small cottage on the outskirts of the city.

they did however, periodically foster children in need, these some of the best times of niamh’s life as she was always a social child and had wished for a big family like she had seen growing up beside the longbottoms and the potters. i have a wanted connection up for this and i would adore for someone to take it up ! niamh would have been very attached to those siblings and no matter where they ended up, would still consider them as part of her family.

though, knowing the story of her adoption and the comings and goings of foster children left her with some bad attachment issues. she keeps her social circle as large as possible and is terrified of growing too close to someone, afraid that they will only leave her hurt, as so many did in the past. 

though she is a tough flower and doesn’t like to show off her weaknesses to many. 

she was a very spazzy child and had a very short attention span as a child, especially when beginning hogwarts. she used to always wear her hair in a braid she did herself and had to get her friends to teach her about make up 

now, she hasn’t changed all the much, physcially maturer and somewhat emotionally, but she is still just as lively and fiesty as she was as a child

she is very sporty, into running why bitch and into quidditch, a beater for the gryffindor team. 

she is not the most responsible however, always getting into trouble for something and has a very do now, think later sort of attitude.

dare her to something? she will do it. probably how she dies tbh

rules ? sorry she doesnt know them

loves a good party

generally just a very sociable person, she loved meeting other people and just being in the midst of everything. 

her one true passion besides sports would be astronomy, you can always find her out looking at the stars if she’s feeling low and wanted to be an astronaunt until the age of 7 until she found out what it required and decided it was too much work

she is at the same time very emotional while not emotional at all, she has many emotions that she suppresses to they tend to come out in weird bursts. 

she’s the type of person you’d go to if you needed cheering up, not really the type of person you’d want to ask advice on things however. though if you did she would really try and do her best to give u good advice ok even if it wasnt

a big figiter

liberal views

wants to get lots of tattoos of smiley faces made from her freckles

very comfortable with herself, probably consider becoming a nudist at some point ngl

loves pasta, you’ve never met a bigger otp than niamh and pasta

very into the flower child, 70s, hippie, disco whole vibe. wears lots of flare pants and loves the beegees and earth wind and fire. she collects records and will obnoxiously play them all the time.

also very into 90s and 2000s pop music, rihanna is her icon and she probably dreamed of being part of destiny’s child at some point. jealous that her dads got to grow up in that era

a big Meme tbh, the kind of person that would send u vines at 3am

also one of those people who has random bruises everywhere but no idea how he got them.

holy shit this is long imma stop but??? please love my spazzy child and she will love you back okay !!

i do have some wanted connections up for her, but i am totally game just to brain storm and would love all the plots so give this post a like and i will come and ask for plots !!!

[andranikolayi]

Gxrls Can’t Mix - misogyny and discrimination in the electronic music world

originally appeared online in Romanian for Revista Cutra

A brief note about this translation

I initially wrote this text in July for Romanian intersectional feminist mag CUTRA and they published it mid September. The focus was supposed to be on events that did take place locally, however, this summer there’s been a constant stream of tweets from female-identified and enby djs/producers about their horrendous Boiler Room experiences.

I wanted to shine a light on that and the endemic kind of sexism that boiler room is constantly facilitating and refuses to take any responsibility towards, as well as share some of the horrors from the Romania scene that nobody wants to talk about because we still live in a very homophobic, racist and sexist environment. As a local queer artist myself, I do believe it is our duty to speak up on these issues even if it may negatively affect our social/professional life. The local community leaders do know what they need to do in order to create safer, more inclusive spaces yet prefer to use a superficially woke discourse that looks good online, yet they would never take direct action or present an unpopular opinion.

Having spoken to Ceci after their Boiler Room and their scary bad experience (including receiving multiple death threats), it became increasingly clear that this text needed to exist in the world. Also running into Lakuti last week in Berlin and hearing how traumatized she still is after her experience playing in Romania, I was all the more motivated to translate it into English and make this available for everyone.

It may be sprawling at times, but I think it’s important to present a translation of the original published material, as it appears on the CUTRA website. Please keep in mind that CUTRA is not a music/dj-specific publication so certain aspects of the industry come with very ELI5 explanations.

First I thought she was just messing with us, but now i m starting to think that this girl doesn’t know what she’s doing

This is boring room not boiler room

Are they trying to put us to bed and broadcasting Schumann resonances?

She would have been better at spinning pizzas than records

Go back to the kitchen!

 These are just a select few from the over 2000 comments of the very first Boiler Room live stream taking place in Romania. Said comments appeared on the initial Facebook live post. The event took place in July 2016. At the time of writing this article [na – july 2019], all the comments are still publicly visible on their page.

I could probably write a thesis on misogyny in electronic music, but for this particular piece I’d like to focus on the following question: why do we saying that gxrls can’t mix?

I would also like to ask the follow up questions: should we be surprised that colleagues from the Romanian club industry would say that a female-identified person is a sick DJ but „a little too homely” to play a certain club? Or that another person I used to consider a close friend would tell me during a b2b set that because he just took some MDMA I looked like „a juicy piece of meat” to him? Or how when Electronic Beats Romania did their first feature on local producer Admina and they didn’t even know who to contact from the magazine to moderate the deluge of hateful comments? Or how nobody even bats an eye at the way industry men here always tend to grab you by the lower waist when talking to you in the club as if it were the most natural thing in the world? Try to explicitly say something and you would be instantly labelled an „unchill bitch”.

The answer is a resounding yes. We should be surprised, as well as angry and concerned enough to start actively doing something about this.

Miss I’s Boiler Room

 On July 6th, 2016, the promoters behind the Interval event and festival series put together the very first Boiler Room in Romania. For those of you less familiar with the club world, Boiler Room is a platform that organizes events specifically designed to broadcast a live video stream of the club experience. Think DJs mixing or musicians doing live sets, while also making a point in filming the audience and their reactions to the music. Since its inception in 2010, Boiler Room has become a global phenomenon, with immense pull in the industry. The project is equally revered and reviled to the point that there are parody YouTube channels (see People of Boiler Room). For most artists, being on Boiler Room is a make or break moment, sort of like a calling card highlighting your skill as a DJ.

Promoters, fellow DJs, agents and ravers all follow Boiler Room religiously. The platform’s increased popularity and growing volume of videos produced per week may have slightly decreased its influence due to sheer oversaturation, being on BR is still the highlight of many up-and-coming artists’ career. Unlike a mix, the BR videos don’t just physically show off your mixing skills, but they also document the audience’s reaction in real time. Oh, and as a DJ you only get 60 minutes to give it your best. Or, as with Miss I in the following example, you’ve just been asked to open the very first BR broadcast ever from your country. Miss I is one of the most beloved local female DJs, also responsible for opening the first vinyl only record store in Romania and highly appreciated in the minimal/deep house scene, so you know there’s gonna be eyeballs. But no pressure, u do u grrrrl.

For every Boiler Room event, the broadcast is livestreaming on their website and Facebook page. Reading the live reactions on the chatroom and Facebook comments is intricately related to the experience. On that humid summer afternoon in a rooftop garden in Rahova, the comments that started pouring just a few minutes into her set were absolutely shocking. The level and volume of vitriol had greatly surpassed the BR staff’s expectations. About 40 minutes in, the host publicly posted a call out comment.

However, while researching this article, I was surprised to discover that most of said harmful and sexist comments were still up online. There were no attempts on behalf of the BR team to warn or ban users. Hell, there was no moderation. But maybe there should have been.

The Boiler Room Effect

Part I - San Francisco Pride, 2019

This story took place in 2016. We could easily justify what had happened by claiming we don’t like to talk about gender politics at the club or how, generally speaking, the Eurominimal/tech-house scene the event was catering to is notoriously populated by aggro cishet bros who worship Villalobos. Unfortunately (surprise surprise!), this has not been the first, nor the last online scandal Boiler Room has been responsible for.

During the writing process for this material, initially meant to focus mainly on Romanian issues, I started paying attention to the comments on recent BR livestreams. This process, coupled with the increased number of artist friends talking about the backlash in the comments following their BR streams I was seeing on Twitter lead me to believe in the dire necessity of live moderators for the entire BR social media. These comments are not just mean spirited or unfunny trolling, they can be incredibly harmful and have a lasting negative effect.

On June 1st 2019, Boiler Room organized a Pride-related event in San Francisco where an artist I not only appreciate but happen to occasionally work with made their debut. Ceci aka CCL is a DJ, producer, co-founder of queer collective TUF and [at the time of publishing] agent working for Discwoman, an NYC-based talent agency created to boost womxn and non-binary artists. CCL identifies as non-binary and uses only they/them pronouns. Being AFAB and feminine presenting, they are often misgendered due to their presentation, even after clearly stating their preferences.

In the beginning of the video, the host does use their correct pronouns, but most people in the comments were still referring to them by using she/her pronouns. This might seem like a minor inconvenience compared to the bulk of the discourse happening below the stream, mostly comprised of people complaining about the music, ranging from how weird the selection is, whether or not that sound is a faulty cable and how bad their technical skills were. Later Ceci confessed they even received actual death threats. All this was happening at a Pride-related event in one of the gayest cities in the world and with a line-up specifically tailored for the occasion.

Being misgendered is always a bad experience, but when it happens during what is supposed to be a career-defining moment, the effect is even more traumatic. Besides, a torrent of sexist and negative comments cannot have a positive effect on anyone, regardless of their gender or sexual identity. Especially with BR, this only seems to happen when female-identified or non-binary artists are concerned. In CCL’s case, the misgendering may have not been the most atrocious part of the online response, however we do need to start implementing such habits as not assuming one’s gender or choice of pronouns. It may seem like a small step, but it does make a world of difference.

What Boiler Room continuously refuse to do is acknowledge the influence it carries in the industry and the responsibility that comes with that. BR could have avoided causing a lot of damage by simply adding a little blurb about the artist’s preferred pronouns in the description of the Facebook live video, for the users tuning in later or not familiar with their work.

It’s this kind of thoughtfulness and concern for the actual scenes they feature that is consistently lacking from their approach.

Part II - The Sherelle Incident

 In March 2019, a different incident took over both the online and offline music discourse – for approximately two whole weeks, all you could see on Techno Twitter were reactions to Sherelle’s Boiler Room. In short, there was clip of a POC female-identified DJ from the UK playing bass and jungle to a packed room going totally berserk until someone from the audience touches the CDJs and the music stops. This unwanted intervention coming from an unidentified hand created a meme-worthy WTF reaction. To nobody’s surprise, this snipped was the one Boiler Room chose to use as their preview advertising her set online. All of a sudden, her startled face in the clip was all anyone could think of, not the incredible atmosphere she created. Yewande Adeniran  wrote a thoughtful piece on the implications and how said “accident” took the discourse away from a moment that was supposed to be just about Sherelle and her skills as a DJ.

Following the incident, the Twitter community managed to ID the person who caused the hubbub, who turned out to be infamous UK DJ Riz la Teef, who was also playing the event. Online, he’s been bombarded with accusations of racism and misogyny to the point of having to delete his account. However, a wave of reputed DJs and producers jumped to his defense and justified his action. Keeping in mind that most of what we call Techno Twitter is comprised of people from/who live in North American, their argument was that his unwarranted intrusion was in fact a very common practice from the UK grime/bass culture. 

Known as a wheel up or to turn up, it consists on moving the jog (the little CDJ wheelie thingie) to rewind the track playing and increase the hype. It’s traditionally considered a sign of appreciation and supposed to be very flattering when your friends/fellow DJs perform it. Think of it as a hands-on rewind. Only in this case his attempt failed and the only thing he managed to accomplish was create a whole lot of confusion. Plus, they were friends and earlier in the clip you can see him come say hi and hug her. In true Internet fashion, think pieces from major publications followed, educating the poor American kids on the wheel up, as well as photos with the two hugging and making peace, telling everyone it’s time to chill out. As for Sherelle’s part, I’m actually curious what else was she supposed to do than say something along the lines of “OK, fine, let’s move on”? It’s already hard enough to break through in the industry as a queer black woman, the last thing you want to do is be that unchill bitch who can’t take a joke.

Our Daily Misogyny

Going back the shitty things that happened in Romania chapter, I want to talk about an incident that happened in October 2016 at a Queer Night party in Guesthouse. To give you a little context, Queer Night is a series of queer parties, the first of its kind, co-run by local choreographer/dancer Paul Dunca and DJ/singer Cosima von Bulowe for over a decade. Guesthouse is a club mainly associated with the Rominimal/tech-house cult, with a pretty cishet, homophobic audience. However, they occasionally host the odd underground event, like DJ Stingray or Lena Willikens. This particular event was a collaborative effort between Queer Night and the Interval (the people responsible for the Romanian Boiler Rooms – na) curatorial teams, who invited queer womxn DJ couple Lakuti and Tama Sumo to do an extended back to back set. Lerato Khathi aka Lakuti is an incredibly talented DJ from South Africa, who also runs the label and talent agency Uzuri and Tama Sumo has an extensive DJ career and also books for Panoramabar.

As Lerato was mixing, a guy standing in front of the booth reaches towards the turntables and touches the record that was playing and the music glitches. Lerato simply froze for a second but continues to carry on mixing. A few minutes later, said guy suddenly appears behind the booth (access to the booth and the backstage area requires a separate bracelet) and tries to get her attention and starts touching her. In that moment, Tama rushes in and extracts the person from the booth. In spite of his highly inappropriate conduct at event that promotes safe spaces, the security staff refused to kick him out of the club for a fuzzy array of reasons – friends with the owner, being a “house regulars” and my favorite “he didn’t beat up anyone” line. Considering the organizers’ credo and position as community leaders, they could have done more than simply trying to minimize the incident.

The rest of the night went well and their set was lovely, but talking to them the next morning, the entire experience didn’t sound like just a minor incident of a someone being an asshole: Lerato confessed that even though she traveled and played all across the globe, she’s never experienced anything remotely similar.

I’d love to be able to say that these stories are just rare occurrences. Unfortunately, being in the music industry reflects a much more grim reality of endemic sexism. Let me suggest a little exercise – take for example any Boiler Room video on Youtube where there are female-identified performers and within the first dozen comments you might something along the lines of “she can’t mix”, “great selection but her technique is lacking” or “X guy did this so much better in the ‘90s”.

Perhaps we all know by now that commenting on a womxn’s appearance is a no-no. Yet I still constantly hear various industry men making comments that womxn like Peggy Gou or Jayda G only got where they are now just because they’re hot. (How come nobody calls out Marcel Dettman for looking like a model I ask you?). Unlike jabs at someone’s looks which are easy to dismiss as harmful, commenting on someone’s “skill” and “technique” are seemly OK because they refer to an objective (they say) variable, easy to judge and quantify. I ask you this – doesn’t this all sound terribly familiar? Perhaps using the same arguments as those right wing Youtube personalities that post videos with titles such as „X DESTROYS feminists with FACTS and LOGIC”?

Consequences of the systemic sexism are starting to pop up everywhere, from Resident Advisor closing down their comments section due to the amount of harassment related to their recent focus on female artists to the petition against Giegling’s Konstantin. For a quick reminder, German DJ Konstantin used a bunch of “biological determinism” arguments in an interview trying to explain why he believes women don’t have the right kind of brain for mixing. In 2018, Konstantin was booked to perform at three major parties during Amsterdam Dance Event (ADE), a key annual gathering for the electronic music industry. A petition signed by thousands of fellow DJs, music journalists and electronic music artists circulated online to have him blackballed due to his comments and half-assed apology that followed. Unfortunately, the only result was the ADE organizers offering him even more exposure by inviting him to talk about his actions on a live panel.

This kind of discourse is very dangerous, as by accepting and normalizing it we’re offering it unwarranted legitimacy to the point that opinions such as Konstantin’s start being reiterated by the press. After this year’s Movement festival in Detroit (the birthplace of techno), a journalist in a local newspaper writing a piece on the women’s rising visibility in electronic music, cited a “veteran DJ” who claimed women lack the technical capabilities to mix and rely on laptops and software in order to do their job. Despite this not being the author’s argument, he chose to offer a platform to a blatantly misogynistic opinion. These positions are not just wrong and should be called out for their obvious sexism, but perpetuating them in the press further increases their destructive power. The more we will continue to validate them, the more present they will become.

And still, why do we keep saying gxrls can’t mix?

Are girls really all lacking in the rhythm department? Commenting on one’s ability to mix is still one of the most widespread forms of criticism that AFAB and female-identified persons get. Why is it so widespread?

Through mixing, the art that defines the modern dance music DJ, most people understand creating a story through a continuous body of variegated music but particularly having no pause between the tracks. When industry people talk about mixing, they usually refer to beatmatching, which is usually means blending two or more tracks, often of different tempos or keys. The overall tempo of the DJ’s mix can remain constant or experience subtle increases across their set. This style of mixing, using long transitions, no tempo changes and working within the same musical subgenre throughout is particularly appreciated in Eurominimal and tech-house, which is also the most lucrative part of the industry in places like France, Germany and Romania. As many talented DJs have proven over the years, from legends like Larry Lavan or David Mancuso and their cosmic or loft deeply personal, eclectic styles, the perfect blends same tempo school is by no means the only “right” way to think about a dancefloor.

At a time when dance music has exploded into a multi-billion dollar industry, the “perfect mix” paradigm became the dominant style. In this climate, to be a DJ is synonymous with knowing how to mix, otherwise you don’t exist. Or at least that’s the androcentric perspective. And once you frame things like this, the comments on womxn’s “technical skills” stem from the same sexist pool as saying womxn are not good at math/science/driving or other “men’s” activities. After all, they’re just being objective, right? “Oh my god it’s not like I said she was fat or something!”

Mixing is a learned skill that requires practice to be perfected. The portion of the population who is encouraged to learn skills that involve music and technology, who is not discriminated against and has access to often costly equipment (be it controllers, CDJs or turntables) is overwhelmingly cis, straight and male. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the “I don’t have a mix online/nowhere to practice because my ex bf had all the equipment” story. Or gxrls saying they never learned how to mix because they didn’t have access to equipment. Or the supportive “nice guy” story who invites you over to “teach you how to mix” but quickly loses his interest once you reject his sexual advances.

It’s refreshing to see groups like Room 4 Resistance, No Shade or Discwoman not only organizing events, but also putting together free mixing workshops for womxn and non-binary people. People are also trying to change things in Romania, with groups like Corp. or Queer Night trying to tilt the gender imbalance locally, only unfortunately their efforts are lacking the infrastructure, institutional support and ideological consistency.

 Where to Now?

 We’re in 2019. DJs like The Black Madona, Josey Rebelle or Octo Octa and Eris Drew are some of the most in-demand people in the circuit. They all approach the dancefloor differently and bring unique views of what a DJ set can be. Yet straight white boys are feeling threatened by their success and are constantly looking for arguments to delegitimize their success. “Yeah, but this person is getting booked everywhere just because it’s cool to be trans now” – as if anyone would go through the intense process of forever altering your body just because queer is “in”! “Oh if I had tits I would get more gigs” – another male DJ I used to call a friend told me when I started playing more in Bucharest. I’ve heard phrases like “but why do women only book other women?” or “how can the super talented boys ever breakthrough in this environment if women are getting all the attention?” more times than I can recount.

Straight white boys need to shut the fuck up! For decades, the vast majority of people in charge of running/booking clubs were straight white men who would only book other straight white men. Yes, there we certainly do see more womxn in line ups, but just as female:pressure cares to remind us periodically, the percentage is still predominantly male. The healthiest path towards building a more diverse and inclusive music world is not having the old gatekeepers trying to educate themselves and perform acts of tokenism, but make space for marginalized people in decision-making positions, because nobody could make more informed, coherent and inspired choices than a person who is deeply involved in the community. Just see Discwoman’s Frankie miracle work over at Bossa Nova Civic in NYC. And it is very likely that with the right people running the show, incidents of abuse and harassment will diminish as well.

Womxn have been so used to be touched without consent and constantly harassed that we’ve been programmed to dismiss such indiscretions as minor inconveniences, something that “comes with the territory”. In order to see an improvement of this state of affairs we have to become more radical in our attitudes against sexism and discrimination. We absolutely need to learn to speak up whenever we encounter misogyny, racism, homo and transphobia and, most importantly, believe womxn when they come forward with a story of abuse of boundaries crossing because whenever we brush it off with things like “he was drunk”, “it was just a joke” or “there are two sides to every story”, we become complicit and contribute to this toxic culture.

The good news is that we can all contribute to changing things. And no, you don’t have to go to a march or join an organization if you want to help out. Change starts in your own immediate community by simply calling out your friends when they say something sexist, not supporting the known abusers and problematic people in the industry and just coming out to see one of the local womxn artists.

We will continue to play, to defend the DJ booth as sometimes the only safe space we might have at the club, to record our music however we can and become ten times better than all male DJs who told us we don’t know, we can’t or we “don’t have the necessary biological conformation”. But, most importantly, we’ll keep making people dance.

images, in order of appearance

queer night at apollo 111, 2017

miss i boiler room, 2016

edited screengrab from comments in the miss i boiler room facebook stream

crowd at miss i boiler room, 2016

ccl at rewire, 2019

all photos courtesy of the author