#proud of everyone for speaking up!! protesting!! sharing on social media!!

[kvtnisseverdeen]

THE WORLD STANDS WITH PALESTINE 🇵🇸

[beyondspaceandstars]

dating bucky barnes

A/N: I kept seeing people on tiktok do random headcanons for their fave characters and I was like that's so fun and then I realized... i can do that?? no one can stop me I can make random hcs so here's some random thoughts about bucky barnes as a bf

Bucky was incredibly shy at first, almost in disbelief someone was making a pass at him when you two first met, but he slowly opens up. He absolutely did not have that brooding, grumpy persona he could have with others. Immediately, he was fascinated yet intimidated by you which confused and excited him.

Bucky seems like the type to find random ways to annoy you, lovingly, like hold stuff out of your reach or tap you on the shoulder randomly

Bucky only drinks black coffee but will get curious and take a sip of your drink when you order some creamer-filled, sugary coffee

Holds doors for you constantly, this is non-negotiable 

When you order in pizza, he’ll let you have the last slice despite your protests

“Bucky you’re a super-soldier, don’t you need like five thousand calories just to function?” “Honey, if you don’t take this slice of pepperoni pizza right now—“

Lots of photos. I think Bucky could be a real amateur photographer taking photos of everything and everyone (and definitely prefers physical cameras as opposed to phone cameras)

Bucky is the sentimental kind but in small, random ways, like writing you poems or leaving you love notes

Has definitely pressed flowers you’ve given him or he saved from bouquets he’s given you in his journal just because.

Speaking of flowers - you cannot go a week without Bucky buying you flowers. He buys them for every occasion. 

"Today's not a special day or anything, Buck," you'd say as he hands you a bouquet of daisies. 

"It's Tuesday and I love my girlfriend," he'd reply. "Is that not enough of a reason to buy you flowers?"

Branching off of that for a second, it definitely took Bucky a long time to say "I love you" but once he gets it out, he can't stop saying it. You get bombarded with "I love you" all day.

Bucky seems like the type of boyfriend to just pick you up. Like he lifts you when he hugs you or he’ll carry you bridal style if you’re too tired to move. He’s so effortless with it

PDA isn’t really a thing with Bucky but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to show you off. Any chance he gets to introduce you to someone is a great moment for him. He can be so proud that he managed to find someone to love and someone who loves him.

Date nights constantly revolve around eating dinner and watching movies. Unlike music, something about modern movies fascinates Bucky and he wants to catch up on it! But he also loves showing you the classics. There's probably a bunch he and Steve would sneak into and Bucky loves not only sharing the movie with you but also stories about seeing it.

He's absolutely one of those cliche boyfriends who just want to watch a horror movie so you can get scared and hold onto him

Also, going along with the movie thing, Bucky probably loves streaming services. Definitely a sucker for traditional media but loves seeing how far technology has come. He's without a doubt a secret nerd in that way.

Bucky is the type of boyfriend to let you steal all the blankets at night. He can make do with just a sheet for a blanket so long as his girl is comfortable. 

In fact, Bucky is big on sharing everything. Anything you needed, he has. A jacket? A snack? A pen? Bucky was always happy to make sure you were set.

He also shares any meal he has with you because he knows you're going to steal from it anyways.

"You're sure you're not hungry, doll?" "No, I'm fine-," "Add on another side of fries."

Despite all the photos he takes, he despises social media. However, he does love it when you insist on posting photos of you two. He'll never see the post but knowing you're showing him off makes his heart sing.

Doing simple, domestic things with him is never dull. Washing dishes together or folding laundry always ends up with you either laughing or having the oddest conversations. Bucky has lived quite the life and even if it's a bit extreme, he doesn't want to waste a second of it, this means he's gonna try to find excitement in everything with you. He's (understandably) moped around a lot but is ready to put that behind him.

Will hold your hand any chance he can get. Loves it.

In general, I think he can be a real touchy person with his significant other. Not much in public but in private his touch-starved side comes out. It's a newfound sensation for him but one you appreciate quite well.

Life with Bucky is just...soft. That's the simplest to put it. It's soft, natural, wonderful. He's got so much to give to another persona and will express it any way he can.

[kittyann]

#Dear_Eclipse Q & A

6) I think Khan needed time to grow into his feelings. When he realized that being with Thua and being close meant more than avoiding the scorn of bystanders, Khan found the courage to speak his truth. This was a gradual process : spending more time with Thua (Khan had been avoiding him at school for years), feeling jealousy toward Ayan, finding out about Thua’s step-dad, being Bruce Wayne, confronting Ayan, kissing Thua in the tent, meeting Thua at the protest, and finally confessing. The delight he feels being Thua’s boyfriend is worse the risk or feel of public disapproval.

7)Yes! AkkAyan, KanThua, Wat, and Namo(?) should all hang out as friends. The dynamics would be similar to the relaxed, playful atmosphere of Prefect Trio buddies, but there would also be a mischievous and lovey-dovey Ayan sitting next to Akk (or leaning on him) . Khan would be a clingy and affectionate boyfriend to his quiet, matter-of-fact Thua. Wat is a fifth-wheel and simultaneously utterly amused and completely over everything. He has a film reference or quote for every conversation. Namo pops in and out whether he wants.

8)I thought the drama would have a real curse, like the school was haunted or something. I hoped that the solar eclipse played a big role and that Akk was terrorizing the student body because something supernaturally worse would happen if he didn’t. I also hoped that time – travel or time loops were part of it. For instance, Ayan lived through all the events of The Eclipse once, but he lost Akk to suicide, like his uncle. On the day of the eclipse, a grieving Ayan was sent back in time to the day he and Akk first met. I’m weak for that type of plot Oh well.

9) I’m not sure whether things will improve at Suppalo because that coldhearted principal is still in charge. Still, I hope the individual teachers like Chadok and Waree are shaken by events enough to try and do better by their students. If I was a student, I’d have a low opinion of y he school and of Tecaher Chadok for knowingly putting students in danger. I wouldn’t want to come back to school at all, and if I was forced to be at school, I definitely avoid everyone involved in the big revelation (like P’Akk, P’Thua, and P’Aye) like the plague.

10) Petitions. Social media campaign. Email newsletter. Campus forums. Boycotts. Appeal to Teacher Sani as much as possible.

11) The kiss in Ep6 isn’t a daydream, but when Ayan tries to address it, Akk calls it a mistake or denies that it ever happened. Ayan is not convinced, but he lets Akk pull away. Ep8 remains the same. Change the ending to Ep.11 and give the characters more time to process and wrestle with the consequences of those major reveals. I’d like to see a conversation with Khan and Thua, a conversation between Thua and Ayan, a conversation between Akk, Khan, and Wat, and finally, a second conversation between Ayan and Chadok about Dika. Have Akk apologize to the World Remembers gang. Extend the entire show to 15 episodes.One or the final episodes includes a kiss on the judo mat initiated by Akk.

12) Ep12 My Way: Akk loses his scholarship and is forced to leave Suppalo. He and Ayan get into a nasty agreement because of something Ayan does, and the “I hate you” scene happens. The cliff scene with Akk is Ayan’s nightmare. Akk is so frustrated he screams in the shower. Akk and Ayan make up and share in some sweet maybe spicy fluff. Akk initates a kiss in bed. Final scene is them relaxing on the fishing boat together. Happy ending.

13)AkkAyan, KhanThua, and Wat spend their college years together. Ayan helps Akk explore new interests and experiences until Akk finally figures out what he want to do with his life. Ayan is a force for change and inclusiveness wherever he goes, and Akk is a proud boyfriend. He lets Ayan drag him along to events and book talks and such. Ayan is likely a social justice & business major. Khan plays college basketball and studies sports business or sports medicine. Thua explores his voice through a literature and writing degree. Wat is a happy indie filmmaker and is the school’s go-to person for human interest documentaries and dramas. These friends stay together and support each other as they navigate a changing world and clash with parents and others who don’t understand them. Ayan’s mom virtually adopts everyone.

14) “Over the Moon” by Khaotung Thanawat, especially the duet version sung with First. 🐈‍⬛🐈🌓

[yn-dreamlife]

Do I know you?

AU!denki kaminari X reader 

Warnings: breakup, angst, fluff

Description: in high school denki always spoke of his dreams of debuting as a musician and when he was going to give it all up for you you didn’t let him. And when you see him years later your heart breaks all over

“I got it... I’m gonna debut.” Denki whispered holding the paper loosely in his hand.

“Denki that’s amazing I’m so proud of you!” I hugged him but he shook his head. I pulled away confused. “what’s wrong?” I whispered placing a hand on the electric man I have come to love.

“I’m not going.” He sounded so determined but I could see how much it hurt him.

“What?! Why?! You’ve been working so hard, this is your dream!”

He shook his head. “no y/n you don’t get it!” He shouted and I took a step back. Denki never yelled at me. he sighed deeply cupping my cheek. “I’d have to leave Musutafu.”

“So? What does that matter Denki?”

He looked hurt by my words. “That means I would have to leave you!”

I tilted my head confused. “no you wouldn’t I would come with you!” But it dawned on me then. I couldn’t leave Musutafu, not while I had to take care of my father and keep going to school. “Denki,” I hesitated but steeled myself I would not let him give up his dream. Not for me. “you're going.”

“No, I’m not!” He protested, “I don’t want to leave you!” it was now or never I had to say it, no matter how much I didn’t mean it.

“But I want you to!” The look on his face broke my heart. I wanted to reach my hand out and brush away the tears but I can’t. “I don’t want to be with you anymore Denki.”

“W-what? Y/n stop this!” He said cupping my cheek but I brushed him off.

“No, I’m serious.” He stood not moving. “Go!” I yelled at him, the tears were so close to falling. If I broke now I knew it would never last, I would fall back into his arms apologizing and forever be guilty he gave up his dream for me. He left then and as the door clicked shut I whispered “I’m sorry.” As I crumpled to my knees and the sobs ripped their way through my throat. I pulled out my phone calling the only person I could think to call.

“What the hell do you want!” Katsuki said gruffly into the phone.

“Suki.” I whimpered.

“Shit- what happened?! Are you hurt?!” He spoke quickly but I could hear the worry.

“D-Denki he-” A sob stopped me.

“Hang on ill be right there!” He yells into the phone before hanging up. I don't move from my spot on the floor, I just sit and cry when suddenly the door is kicked open.

“Y/n!” I hear him yell as he slides on his knees over to me. “What did dunce face do?! Did he hurt you?! I’ll kill him!” He screamed as he looked me over.

“I-I broke up with him!” I sob.

“w-what? But you love him,” He spoke confused.

“I-i do but-” The sobs were too strong and I couldn't get my story out. He held me for a long while without saying anything. When he finally did speak he said he was going to call Denki and sort this whole thing out.

“No!” I cried ad he stared at me confused as I snatched his phone.

“I broke up with him because he was going to give up his chance at a debut because he didn't want to leave me!” I speak quickly my voice shaking.

His eyes soften even more as he nods and I break down sobbing again. Katsuki stayed with me for a while after that, making the trip to his hero agency from my house. He knew I couldn't be alone right now. I thought I had gotten better but then I heard his name on the radio and went all downhill again.

Katsuki comforted me once again, he knew the pain to some degree. He remembers when Kirishima got his first girlfriend before they had confessed to each other in high school, he felt like he was dying.

But he could barely imagine the pain you were in now. You and Denki had been together for four years, if not more. The truth is you always lost track with him, it just didn't feel long at all but it also felt like it had been over thirty years.

Your father sadly passed away a few months after your break-up, you never felt more alone in your life. Even with Katsuki there, you knew he longed to be back at his shared apartment with Kirishima, so you sent him back.

You pretty much had forced him to leave, he couldn't help it. You were like his sister he wanted to take care of you. Of course, he also felt bad for Denki, he was still his friend too. Luckily Kirishima handled him for the most part, Katsuki couldn't do both on his own without getting caught in a mix.

“Oh god Eij, I don't know what's gonna happen with her.” He said his first night back. “What if someone breaks in? What if she calls him? What is she hears about him on the radio or social media? What if-” Kirishima cut off his fiance's worries with a kiss.

“She’s a big girl, she can handle this. Besides at some point, she was going to have to learn how to live on her own again, so let her do it on her own terms.” He whispered caressing the side of his lover's face.

You hadn't gotten any better at your house, well you kind of did. You stopped crying, but now all you really felt was numb. You wanted him back, simple as that.

There was no ands, ifs, or buts you simply wanted your boyfriend back. But in the end, you were happy for him, he was going to live his dream. Even if he couldn't have you with him. Although you had considered calling him once your dad died but thought better of it.

He was probably busy working on his first album or something. What you didn't know is that he saw your father's name in the electronic paper and wished you had called. No, more than that. He wished he had called. You were mourning the death of your father, he should have called to check.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it. So instead he asked his friends, the only connection he had to you really. He sent them letters to give to you at random times, as well as sending pre-orders of flowers into local flower shops so they would be delivered while he was on his first tour and you would never know the batch of yellow roses were from him.

Each gift made you smile every time and the explosive blonde was always sure to thank his friend for what he did for you even if he was still under the impression you had fallen out of love with him.

It was a little over three years later. Denki was finishing up another tour, and he was a huge star by now. He was doing a show in Musutafu Japan and everyone from class 1A was coming. It was fitting since that’s where you all went to school.

I was shocked when I got my invite but I just assumed he had an assistant send an invite to all 1A students. The concert was in a week or so Denki wouldn’t be in town for a few more days so to say I was shocked at what was happening was an understatement.

I was just walking around the park near my apartment like always when I looked down at my phone and then seconds later ran straight into someone. I ended up almost falling except the stranger caught me.

I looked up only to see a familiar pair of golden eyes. “D-Denki?!” I stuttered out shocked.

“Uh...” he looked at me confused.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry.” I bowed deeply before I hesitantly stood back up straight seeing as he was still confused.

“Dens? You okay?” The nickname slipped out so easily. Just like his first name had.

“Dens?! I’m sorry do I know you?” I looked at him shocked and hurt tears welling in my eyes.

“Are you serious?” He raised an eyebrow. “Unbelievable.” I scoffed.

He stood there silently as I began to walk away “glad to know three years erasers four years worth of memories. I should have known better.” I scoff as I roll my eyes walking over to Katsuki's car that I see waiting to pick me up for lunch.

“W-wait!” I hear him call behind me but before he can I get into the car.

“Is that Denki?!” Katsuki asks shocked.

“Yeah,” I mutter bitterly. Katsuki gives me a raised eyebrow but I shake my head. He gets out of the car to greet his friend.

“Oi dunce face you weren't supposed to be here for another few days!” I hear Katsuki yell before closing the door and going to talk to him. I can’t hear anything but mumbled words. I try to ignore the way my heart hurts as I wipe the silent tears from my cheeks, missing the golden eyes on me.

“Hey, Kachan!” Denki says embracing his friend his mind still reeling from realizing it was YOU he bumped into. “I-is that-“

Katsuki cuts him off. “Y/n? Yeah.”

“Shit. I didn’t even recognize her.” Denki says embarrassed.

“Really?!”

“Well yeah. The last I saw her was three years ago and as much as I wanted to I’d never allow myself to look at her socials. It... it just hurt too much.”

That’s when Katsuki remembers, you two didn’t just break up YOU dumped HIM. The last thing he thought was that you fell out of love with him.

“Yeah, I guess a lot had changed.”

“Yeah, but once I saw her eyes it hit me. I’d never forgotten those eyes.” Katsuki could tell the second he saw Denki's eyes hit you, he was still in love with you.

“Hey dunce face there’s something you should know-.” Katsuki started but before he could finish Denki was getting a call.

“Shit it’s my manager I wasn’t supposed to leave the hotel. I-I’ll catch up with you later okay? It was really nice talking to you Kachan!” Denki says as he hugs his friend before answering the phone quickly rushing off.

Katsuki sighs As he goes back to the car. “Aw, the great and famous Denki have to leave already? Too good to hang around us commoners for too much longer?” You asked bitterly.

Katsuki looked at you shocked. “Don’t give me that! He didn’t even recognize me! I mean you’d think after four or more years of being together every day you would remember a person! But noooooo now your famous and too good to even remember the girl you were supposedly in love with!” You yell. Katsuki puts a hand in your shoulder and you look at him.

“It’s okay to still be sad y/n. You can let it out.” With that, it was like the damn bust. The fake facade of anger faded and the tears leaked from your eyes.

“I-it fucking hurts. I think about him every. Single. Day. And he just.... forgot about me.”

“You know he never kept up with you in social media....” Katsuki says softly.

“What?” You ask pulling away.

Katsuki begins to drive as you continue. “He said he never kept up with you on social media, it hurt too much. You gotta remember y/n/n in his mind... you fell out of love with him.”

It all set in then. And the rest of the car ride was silent as you thought about what he said.... he was right that’s how you ended it. Convincing Denki you didn’t love him that you didn’t want him. In his mind, there must be no reason for you to be upset because you left him.

It was the day of the concert and you had made up your mind you were going to talk to him. Explain, and at the very least after that get him to forgive you. At the best.... well you wouldn’t even think of that, it’s not possible.

You were standing in the front row staring up at the stage as you watched him come out. Energetic and bursting with happiness. You smiled widely tearing up, this was his dream... and he was happy. At the very least you don’t regret what you did.

You watched him perform his songs watching him dance and sing feeling the energies of everyone around you. The crowd loved him almost as much as he loved them. You couldn’t help but feel like you kept seeing his eyes flick to you but you convinced yourself that it was just the rest of the class he was looking at.

At one point he sang the song he used to sing to you. It was a love song he wrote, it described you and all the things he thought were so perfect that you thought were flaws. There was a full ache in your chest listening to it.

Remembering all the times he would hold you as he sang the words softly. Or when he would cup your cheeks and sing lines to you. The soft moments shared just between the two of you flashing in your mind. What you didn’t know if they always flashed in his.

The rest of class 1A looked between you two. Knowing that you both still so clearly loved each other. Even after so long apart.

After that, the concert had ended you and the rest of class 1A went backstage.

“Oi dunce face!” Katsuki yelled you giggled softly seeing Denki turn around a soft blush on his cheeks but a wide smile on his face. He embraced Kirishima, Katsuki, Hanta, and Mina.

You missed the way he instinctively went to hug you too because you’re weren’t looking at him. You all were catching up enjoying hearing stories and sharing bits of your own personal life. You didn’t talk much and when you did it wasn’t for long. Finally, people were talking amongst themselves and you decided it was time.

You went to look for Denki snd when you couldn’t find him you asked around. You heard that he was out meeting fans so you went to find him. What you saw was beautiful. Denki was beaming as he took photos and signed autographs. One of the girls looked up at his eyes shining.

“E-excuse me M-mr. Kaminari s-sir.” She stuttered.

“Hey there what’s your name? And please just call me d-Denki!” He said happily taking the photo and marker the girl handed him.

“U-um Naomi.” She stuttered before clearing her throat and straightening her shoulders. “I was wondering who was your last song about?”

“My last song?” He asked to clarify and she nodded a soft smile formed as he signed the photo handing it back and grabbing the next giving the girl a smile. “It was actually about my first love. We broke up when I debuted it just.... wasn’t the right circumstances so she ended things with me.”

“She sounds stupid.” One girl scoffed.

“Yeah what idiot would leave you? I mean I would drop anything to date you.” Another chimed in.

“I mean she couldn’t have been THAT amazing like your song says if she left you.” A third chimed in.

Tears welled in your eyes. You were stupid to leave him, and you weren’t the same girl his song described.

“Hey Guys c’mon don’t-“ Naomi tried to cut in only to be cut off.

“I think you should leave.” A low voice said and your head snapped up. Denki stood their shoulders tensed and eyes hardened.

“What?!” The three girls gasped in unison.

“I said leave. I’ll have you know that she was better than what my song described! And those circumstances she wasn’t willing to drop was her father who was severely ill. How dare you talk about someone you don’t know like that!” He says anger evident in his voice. Hell, it fucking radiates from him.

Denki gave Naomi one last smile before glaring at the other girls again and turning to walk away. When he did turn he got a few paces before stopping dead in his tracks his eyes locking with yours.

You stood there shocked the tears that had slipped down your face still there and your eyes most likely a little red.

“Y/n?! Sunshine what’s wrong?!” He says rushing to you instinctively cupping your cheeks.

“Y-you... t-they...” your brain wasn’t working. For once you were the one short-circuiting.

“They had no right to talk about you like that and I’m sorry you heard it. And I’m sorry about the other day too when I didn’t recognize you. I hadn’t seen you in so long.” He says as he rubs your cheek softly. “But then I saw your eyes and I heard that fiery attitude of yours and recognized you instantly.” He said a soft smile on his face.

“I don’t regret it you know?” You blurted out. His face dropped and he pulled his hand away. But you grabbed it holding it in your own okaying with his fingers as you continued. “I saw you up there... you were fucking glowing dens. The energy you radiate on that stage and the energy I felt from that crowd, I would never regret hurting both of us if it meant this for you.”

“Y/- wait did you say hurting both of us?” He asked tilting his head.

“Of curse both of us.”

“But you- you said that you didn’t love me.”

“I... I kinda lied. I- I knew you would stay and I didn’t want to take your dream away from you. So I lied, but dens you gotta know that there is nothing that hurt me more than that. God I still fucking love you but I would go through it all again if it means you get your dream- THIS dream.”

He softly whispers “You love me?” And your eyes widen. Shit, you did say that out loud? You mod closing your eyes waiting for the rejection. You drop his hand.

“Y-yeah. But it’s okay, you have thousands of wonderful eligible people. Hell, you might even be with someone. I wouldn’t expect you to have waited around all these years when you thought I didn’t love you.” There was more silence as you continued to avoid his gaze.

“I- I think I should go, get back with the others. Leave you to your fans. You can just forget everything I said haha.” The laugh was forced and pitiful, you both heard it and you inwardly cringed.

“Why would I forget it?” He whispered and you looked to him only to see the widest smile you had seen since you two were together “why would I forget the love of my life saying she still loves me? Am I crazy?!” And with that, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply.

His fans roared with applause and cheers, you found yourself blushing but not pulling away. “I sang my song to you for a reason sunshine, it's 'cause your still my whole fucking world.” He whispered. And you found yourself smiling just as wide.

The next day the chargers, Denkis fan base, had your ship name with him trending on Twitter. Thousands of pictures and posts of you two together and kissing exploded on the internet wondering if it was just a publicity stunt.

But those theories were silenced when Denki got past his PR people and posted a tweet about how he was finally back with the love of his life.

And when Denki saw a familiar face, the girl Naomi from the night before and the words of encouragement and love she sent towards the two of you in hopes of amending what her now ex-friends said. The girl found herself gaining quite a few followers. All with names suspiciously like the Baku-squad hero names. With pictures of people that seemed just a bit too similar to the hero’s and singer, she loved so much. But her favorite was “y/n/n0230” who sent her a quick message thanking her for the kind words.

The chargers were thrilled that you two were together but no one was as happy as the two of you.... well except maybe the rest of your squad, happy to see their two balls of sunshine shining once again.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA ENTERTAINER AU

(friendly reminder to remember that celebrities are people too! be respectful of and kind to them, both online and in person! ^-^)

(Talk Show Host) Vanya Blues is the host of a late night talk show called The Sleepy Show with Vanya Blues. She does what typical talk show hosts do - talks to her guests, makes up fun games, and brings attention to social issues. The staple of her show is that she plays violin for the last seven minutes, lulling her audience to sleep. Beyond her own show, she’s hosted events like the Emmys and the Oscars throughout the years, and often works with mental health support services, as her traumatic past of childhood isolation and abuse is well-known. She’s had a couple bouts of scandals, as her anger getting the best of her often leads to violence, but while these scandals tend to put her on hiatus for awhile, she always comes back stronger than ever. Though she’s not known to have many friends in the celebrity world, her favorite guests have her personal number: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five, and Ben. As for her personal life, she keeps it intensely private - it’s known that she has a wife and a son, but nothing else. At least, not until Leonard, one of Vanya’s abusive ex-boyfriends and a paparazzi nut, manages to get some photos of Vanya with her kindergarten teacher wife Sissy and their son Harlan, whom they won in a court case against Sissy’s abusive ex-husband Carl. It would’ve been fine, if he hadn’t released them to the entire world - but he did, and now no one in Vanya’s family is safe.

(Rockstar) Diego Towblaerman is professionally known as “Batman”, a rockstar and teenage heartthrob beloved by the media. (He’s not a teenager, but all the people who wanna sleep with him are.) He always wears leather and black, except around pride month, when he can commonly be seen wearing shirts, jackets, pins, and other materials sporting his bisexual pride, as he’s been out since the beginning of his career. He’s rebellious and intense, but also pretty laid back and incredibly kind, known for conversing easily with any fans he comes across and helping out in the small places where he can. He plays guitar, plenty of different types and models, and also the drums and piano, though those spots in his band are filled by other people. Eudora is his pianist and second guitarist, and his adopted sister. She helps produce his music and manage his behavior, and their relationship and dynamic is well-loved by the public, especially as Diego often brings Eudora as his plus-one to award shows. Also in his family is his mother, Grace, who he often has lunch with and shouts out on social media, mostly about the orphanage she runs that he grew up in. (Unbeknownst to him or most of the others, all of the other six passed through that orphanage at some point in their tumultuous childhoods.) There’s also Lila, his girlfriend of a few years and his band’s awesome drummer. She’s as badass as Diego - she rides a motorcycle, can pack a punch, and heads a lot of organizations against sexual assault, since she grew up in a bad home in a bad neighborhood. (What people don’t know is that their relationship is a PR thing for both their benefits, and that Lila and Eudora have been together for nine years and Diego is married with two children. Best be keeping that out of the media, me thinks.) Lastly, though, is the mystery member of Diego’s posse - someone they only know as “Séance”, from the countless number of songs Diego has written about him. Love songs. All happy ones, too, and listed as tracks two and four on his albums. Now, there are only two clues as to who this person might be. One: Diego is rather impatient when it comes to assholes, and there are plenty of videos out there of him punching and cussing out people who harass him or his friends - but most notably is the viral, dark and blurry video of him having to be pulled off a guy by a bunch of shouting people, only one of whom’s voice is clear: a soft, sweet, scared, Gogo. No one saw who it was he was defending - Diego made sure to drape them in his own scarves and jackets and go out the back way, but there’s a soundbite from the same night of what sounds like two people sharing a kiss, Diego’s voice smiling around the words I’ll see you at home, baby, and the sound of a car door slamming. Lila, when asked, only smirked and answered that she was probably too wasted to remember this. The second clue, and perhaps the most interesting, is the sheer number of quote tattoos Diego has, none of which he will explain. Only a few people in the entire world know what the quotes are from - a shipping cult of fans on tumblr, only about a hundred of them, who all found and liked a post that pointed out that all of the quotes only have one thing in common, besides being forever embedded in Diego’s skin: they’re all the words of beloved comedian Klaus Hellbyes.

(Actress) Allison Charmors is known for being so kind and charming that no one has ever said no to her. She’s also a bit of media darling and nightmare simultaneously: they adore her, and all of her work with human rights organizations, but they’ve also had to deal with more of her troubles than anyone else they document. She’s often labelled a “maneater”, as her on-and-off relationship with Luther Monkman still follows her around, she and her first husband Patrick divorced and he got full custody of their daughter, and then she bounced around with a couple of other men. (And women too, but nobody else knows that. She wears pan pride colors sometimes, but has never outright stated or implied it beyond a couple of unfiltered jokes in interviews. She dated Natalie Portman once, if anyone cares.) Allison never settled down with anyone until Ray Chestnut came along - a BLM leader and proud LGBTQIA+ and Me Too ally. They met when Allison helped out at one of his demonstrations, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. The media is fascinated with their easy-going relationship and relentless work and support for and of minority groups, their most recent project being a protest against Islamaphobia. Everyone keeps waiting for them to fall apart, but it’s been five years and they haven’t yet. Also in Allison’s lane are Klaus and Vanya, the latter of whom she had a huge falling out with a couple years ago, though nobody knows what about. The two of them often cameo in the films she helps direct, most of them winning a multitude of awards. They’ve also been caught on video with her a couple hundred times, especially in all the scandals she’s been involved with where she’s assaulted someone for their racist and sexist behavior. But even with her history of assault, serial dating, and bribery, the public still adores Allison beyond belief - and so does her family, even if nobody really knows who that is. Most curious, though, is her history of film - she’ll only ever participate in trilogies.

(Comedian) Klaus Hellbyes is the comedian of his generation, and probably of the generation below his too. He’s famous for his dark morbid humor and NSFW improv jokes, and also for swearing consistently in live interviews on shows where you’re not allowed to swear. He has an odd fashion sense and rejects any and all gender roles, mouthing off at anyone who dares to comment on it. (He only ever paints four out of his ten nails, for some reason?) He’s known for his witty comebacks and scathing sarcasm on social media, and for being incredibly protective of others, especially teenagers who are targeted by trolls on online platforms. He runs a staggering number of pride organizations and does anti-racist work, often organizing pride events across the country for people who can’t be out to their families or communities. Beyond his social justice work, Klaus works to bring attention to mental disorders and trauma, especially in youth. He’s open about his own childhood, running from foster home to foster home and never being adopted, though he makes it clear that he made himself a family with a few very special kids along the way. He speaks publicly and often about his own struggles with anxiety, depression, anorexia, self-harm, PTSD, and suicidal ideation, always addressing any videos or accounts of him having panic attacks onstage, going out in short sleeves with fresh bandages on his wrists, and his ribs showing through his skin when he goes swimming. He’s taken hiatuses and spoken out in support and defense of other celebrities and people going through the same sorts of things, and makes it clear that his self-healing comedy has never been about the fame for him. He’s a good friend of Taylor Swift’s and once got drunk with Ed Sheeran, and he often goes on Vanya’s show to discuss mental health with her. While he often makes fun of the other six, he’s incredibly respectful in his comedy, as it’s never about his hatred of a person but rather his love for them. Whenever he speaks about social justice issues, he makes it clear that he speaks for his love of humanity as a whole rather than his hatred of any one individual. He’s admitted to being a huge fan of Diego, and has disclosed that they’ve met a few times, but is frustratingly vague about the circumstances of their friendship. Most people suspect they became friends at one of the many foster homes each is known to have been in. As well as his well-known friendships with Allison and Vanya, Klaus is known to hang around with Luther and Five, usually by getting ice cream and riding trains. Klaus’ two most famous relationships are complicated - there’s Ben, and there’s Dave. Ben is who Klaus has mostly lived with for the past eight or something years, the two of them open about being queerplatonic partners, though Klaus keeps having to explain what exactly that means to them and to the community as a whole, knowing that it differs for everybody. Dave, however, is who brought him into the public eye - Klaus met him in the army, and they were married in between tours. On one of those tours Dave was shot and killed, and Klaus has been open about his struggle with grief ever since, using Youtube as a platform for coping with his pain. He wrote a book about two characters based on them falling in love during the Vietnam War, which became a bestseller, and, on the third anniversary of Dave’s death, released the special that launched him to fame, an in-depth look at grief through a lens of comedy and appreciation for all the good moments shared between them. It’s become a staple of pop culture, and is still often quoted and referenced today, making Klaus one of the media’s most frequent topics of conversation.

(Author / Artist) Five di Sappears is known for his work across multiple genres, and the mystery that is everything about him as a person. His family, including his parents, is an incredibly well-kept secret, the only person known to be related to him being his sister Aidy, who Five has proven he will protect with violence if necessary. As a thirteen-year-old genius psychopath (not ACTUALLY), he’s a controversial figure, though his talent will never be denied. While he’s violent and aggressive, his horror and thriller novels have never failed to top the charts. While his sanity is questionable, his art is beautifully crazy and nonsensical without a single metaphor within it. While he’s proudly asexual aromantic and has gotten into physical and verbal altercations defending that, his romance novels published under the pseudonym Evipha Murdress are hailed as some of the most honest portrayals of love that literature has to offer. He can sing like fucking hell too, and is considered a trans icon, though he keeps his chosen name as much of a secret as his dead one, offering only the explanation that he fears for the safety and privacy of his family should it be released to the public. (His name is Aidan Alone, off the record.) Agnes is his kind and well-loved publisher (owner and founder of Donut Publishings! Books guaranteed to put a smile on anyone’s face!), and Dolores is his best friend/partner/comfort mannequin, which greatly confuses the public but doesn’t concern Five. She travels everywhere with him, and often cameos in the movies made off his books, and he’s gotten into plenty of fistfights over her. He doesn’t care if you don’t understand her importance, you don’t touch her. Hazel is his bodyguard and Cha-Cha is the main actress in his horror and thriller films, all of which are directed by the Handler, who produces his movies and likes to change the details behind his back no matter how hard he tries to make her adhere to what he’s written. Unfortunately, he can’t report or remove her, because she’s offered Hazel and Cha-Cha handsome salaries to hand over whatever information they know, including photos they’ve taken of when Five’s parents come to see how his projects are coming along. They blackmail him into silent fuming, but that all backfires soon enough - Five gets into a car accident in which he takes the brunt of the impact for Aidy, alerting the world to Klaus and Diego’s relationship and Five’s parentage when they come screaming from their cancelled events and into his hospital room, without concern for the millions of photos taken and only worry for their beloved son. No matter. Five will just kill anyone who dares to say a word. After all - those rumors that he writes his novels based on his own murders are not exactly unfounded.

(Influencer) Ben Deadengon is one of the most subscribed-to Youtubers out there, famous for his videos about human rights, kindess, and positivity. He often features Klaus as a guest, since they’ve lived together for a long, long time and are committed partners who like to help each other out, but those videos usually dissolve into them dressing up as pirates and princesses and improving stupid skits. (Not that anybody has any complaints.) He runs a lot of charities, which means that he has indeed met the President, and he’s one of the most beloved and scandal-free people on the Internet, though he’s often involved himself in Klaus’ controversial shit in defense of his partner. He’s been on Broadway and travelled the world, but his main claim to fame is that he was in an accident in which he died for six minutes before coming back to life, therefore earning him the moniker Six. Curiously, the moment he gasped out his second first breath happened exactly as Klaus touched him, prompting a lot of conversations and theories about them being soulmates or some shit, despite soulmates not actually existing (as far as they know…). But Ben’s happy with his life, as it is - he has an at-home butterfly garden (seriously, his windows are all screens and there’s plants and butterflies fucking everywhere, I’m not kidding) and a lovely(?) niece and nephew he gets to babysit when his beloved partner is out. That’s the good life, baby. Plus, ya know - he’s not dead. So that’s automatically awesome.

(Athlete) Luther Monkman is one of the largest men in existence, all of his muscle earned in his rigorous training for the Olympics. He’s won one gold medal every time the tournament comes around, and he plans to keep on doing so. So does Reginald - his abusive trainer and professional cheater. Luther also works with Pogo, a kinder coach who tells him to always believe in himself, but is also frustratingly defensive of Reginald’s horrifying practices. But Luther himself is well-loved - he’s awkward and handsome enough to be a teenage heartthrob, and he’s been single since Allison left him for the last time, though they’re still good friends. He’s known as a gentle giant, having lunch with Klaus and Vanya often and enjoying a bickering and competitive yet loving relationship with Diego. He’s completely free of media scandals, a complete sweetheart - until he’s caught on video choking a guy against the wall, and shit hits the fan. (Nobody cares about Five in the background of the video, standing behind Luther with his fists clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbing under bruises.)

Welcome to my world, bitches.

[inagetawaycarxo]

Dating Kyle O’Reilly Would Include

❛❛ Can you do a Kyle O’Reilly dating would include? If okay if you can’t❜❜-@shieldgirl18

A/N: Kyle is a national treasure. Got a Kyle O’Reilly or WWE request? Send it in. Requests are open!

Kyle loves you so much. Plus adores you so much.

Course you love/adore him so much as well.

Cherishing each other.

He can be a little bit awkward sometimes. Well, most of the time. Nonetheless, you find it adorable.

He is the perfect boyfriend.

And the perfect gentleman.

Opening door/car doors for you.

Holding the door open for you.

Pulling out your chair for you to sit on.

Walking you to the car or door.

Always listening to each other.

Being loyal to each other.

Kyle only has eyes for you. Vice versa.

Going grocery shopping together. Kyle, of course, pushes the trolley. Sometimes pretending it’s a car.

Respecting each other.

Getting/picking flowers for you. For no reason.

Offering you his jumper/jacket when you get cold.

When he sees you shiver, he will strip his jumper/jacket off, then puts it on you.

Though you protest. “Then you will be cold.” You whined. Pouting at him.

“I’d rather be cold then watch you be cold.”

If you have a jacket on and you are still cold, he will pull you closer to his side. Wrapping his arms around your shoulder.

Messaging you at random times. When both of you are away from each other he sends you text messages. Asking how your day is, or just random messages. Though he likes to call/facetime you.

Massaging each other. Back massages, shoulder rubs.

Helping you with household chores.

Helping you cook.

Helping you clean and wash the dishes.

Encouraging each other.

Carrying your bags. When you travel with him.

A lot of compliments. He likes to compliment you. And you like to compliment him too. Which makes him blush and get all flustered.

A lot of dates.

Being intrigued by what you say.

Also taking interest in each other’s hobbies. Even if Kyle or you don’t like it.

Bike rides.

Walking together.

Always being interest in what each other have to say. Even when it is just random rants or venting.

Gaming together.

Giving you piggyback rides.

Kyle never falls to make you laugh. He loves hearing you laugh.

Never falling to make Kyle laugh.

A lot of “I love you’s.”

Sexting each other. Though Kyle was awkward at first when both of you started to do it.

Never interrupting each other when speaking to each other.

Kyle making you breakfast in bed.

Being his biggest fan.

And a number one supporter.

Feeling shocked and heartbroken when he gets hurt.

Especially if it’s a bad injury. That puts him out for a while.

Nursing him/ being there for him.

Being proud of each other.

Praising each other.

Holding each other’s hands.

There isn’t a lot of PDA, maybe a kiss good luck before his match, hand-holding, and a peck on the cheek.

He mostly shows a lot of affection when its just him and you.

Watching his matches in the front row. Like every one of them.

Sitting on his lap.

Feeling his muscles/thighs.

A lot of communication between both of you.

When you get your period he always looks after you. Getting you pad and tampons, as well as a lot of comfort food. Heating a heating pad.

Taking his dog for a walk. His dog liking you.

A lot of cuddling.

Spooning. Sometimes he likes to be the little spooning.

When both of you are sleeping, he likes to have his arm around you. While you are snuggled into his side. Your head on his chest.

A lot of kissing. On the lips, neck, cheek, nape, shoulder, hand.

A lot of make-out sessions.

Comforting him when he is angry. Since you are the only one that calms him down.

At first, when you saw him anger you were kind of scared. But got over your initial fear to calm him down.

Rarely ever fighting. A lot of pointless bickering though.

Playing with your hair. Well twirling it. Sometimes braiding it or putting it up in styles.

Being friends with Bobby, Roderick, and Adam.

Kyle getting jealous when someone flirts with you. Though you reassure him he is the only one for you.  He gets slightly clingy and pouts a lot.

Mostly asking you a lot if you love him, which you respond with of course I love you, then go on a rant about what you love about him, and why you love him. Which leaves him in awe.

Comforting him when he loses.

Being goofballs together.

Finding it cute when he plays air guitar on the championship.

Both of you are pretty much hopeless romantics. And everyone teases him and you about it.

When he gets insecure you comfort him.

Kyle worships you, and your body.

He is kind of vanilla in the bedroom. So, it is mostly missionary. Though you aren’t complaining.

Though he takes good care of you after sex.

He likes to take his time. Kissing every inch of your body.

Though he likes your thighs. Whether it is grabbing them or kissing them.

Giving each other oral.

A lot of teasing.

A lot of dirty talk.

Both of you like to whisper dirty fantasies to each other.

Leaving love bites on each other.

Posting about each other on social media.

Taking selfies, even goofy ones.

Road trips.

Living together.

Tracing his tattoo.

Wrestler!Reader;

A lot of the aspects above this section apply to this one.

Kyle likes to post pics of you randomly on social media. Mostly just boosting about you. And praising you.

Like “That’s my girl, breaking limps.”

Praising each other on social media.

Pointing out mistakes to each other.

Kyle feels heartbroken whenever you get injured especially when its an injury that leaves you off to the sidelines.

Comforting each other if either him or you get injured.

Patching each other up when either him or you get injured. Comforting each other.

Always supporting each other.

Sparring with each other. And Bobby, Adam, and Roderick.

Good luck kisses backstage.

Before you joined the undisputed era, you used to watch his matches/promos backstage.

Joining the undisputed era. Which makes him happy.

Being ringside at his matches, plus the rest of undisputed era.

Cheering for him. He cheers for you.

Couching each other.

Encouraging each other.

Being a ride or die for him and undisputed era.

If the opponent is getting the upper hand you either distract the ref or their opponent.

You always put your body on the line for them.

It works but, Kyle worries about you. But countless times you’ve told him before going out to the ring not to worry about you and focus on the match and winning. Though he still worries about you.

He quickly rushes over to you when the match is over. Fussing over you. And telling the medics to well help you. Bobby doesn’t help either yelling at the medics to help you and well Adam and Roderick they keep yelling profanities at the opponents.

Being ringside when you are injured as well. You are mostly there for moral support for all of them.

Carrying your bags for you.

Working out together.

Travelling together. Plus, with the rest of the guys.

Sharing a hotel room.

Celebration sex after winning a match. Especially if it is a championship.

They like to interfere with your matches. And well be ringside cheering you on and supporting you. Being there for moral support.

Telling you that you are so much better than them and so on.

Helping each other train for matches/ppv.

Helping you put tape on your wrists/hands.

Kyle playing air guitar on the championship, or the nxt women's championship, when he is holding it at ringside.  

[littledreamybeth]

Our little secret

A/N: Happy new year, everyone! Let's make the first post of 2020 a fluffy one! I hope you like it! I haven't properly proof read everything, so I apologize for mistakes beforehand. Comments are highly, I stress highly appreciated.

Picture does not belong to me. Credits to the owner!

“Are you ready?” It was not impossible to overlook how nervous the young couple was. Trembling fingers interlocked, they looked at each other’s faces, searching for confirmation, or even doubt. Harry couldn’t recall being this nervous. An uneasy feeling had settled in his gut since he was sitting in front of the camera. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t really do what they were about to do, however, he also knew keeping this secret forever wouldn’t help either, because at the end somebody was going to find out anyway- as usual. He had promised Y/N he would do this, and they had talked everything out. They had taken drastic precautions, doubling their security guards and placing cameras almost everywhere in their home, so he wouldn’t be worried anymore.

“Only if you are, love,” His raspy, deep voice filled the room.  

The young woman, his partner, soulmate, wife- his love, nodded.

“Alright, here we go…” She gave her sister-in-law, Gemma, who was standing behind the camera, permission to start the recording.  The brunette woman held her thumbs up, smiling assuringly and encouragingly at the couple. Harry squeezed Y/N’s hand in comfort before he let go of her. He knew she was going to articulate with gestures. Besides, he needed to calm down himself. He was sitting there, his body in a tensed form. He had to relax. Breathing deeply in and out, the British man and his wife stared into the camera.

Here goes nothing...

“Hello everyone!” It was Y/N who spoke first. She was going to speak more since it was mostly about her. “Welcome back to my channel! I know it has been a very long while since I’ve posted anything, and I’m aware that many of you guys were concerned for me. I just vanished out of nowhere after all.” Not that anything bad had happened, no- she had a reason for all of that. But one thing after another, right?

“I highly appreciate your worry, guys. I know I owe you an explanation, and here I am, finally giving you one.” Harry’s wife had started a YouTube channel after they got together, uploading videos so that his fans could get to know her better. She was the person who rather spoke through actions than words. The amount of love she received was mind-blowing. She had never expected the support. Her videos always reached millions of views. Some of them were even with Harry and her doing couple stuff or challenges. If it wasn’t for his love, Harry would never agree to things like this. He’s private as we all know.

“First things first, I’ve seen many people speculating that Harry and I allegedly divorced, but as you can see, Mr. Styles is sitting right next to me and I’m still wearing my ring.” She pointed at the diamond ring on her finger. “I’d like to happily confirm that your assumptions about us were wrong.” She leaned over to give a kiss on his cheek, sensing how tense he was. She whispered “It’s gonna be fine” into his ear, running her hands through his brown locks before she focused on what was in front of her.  

“I want to get to the point quickly,” She stressed. “The reason why I disappeared, why I never have accompanied Harry to any special event for the past year, why I wasn’t active on social media, is because something has happened that changed our lives forever. Today, we want to share it with you.”

It was Harry’s cue to stand up, walking behind the camera to have Gemma handing him over something, or even better, someone. When he came back and sat down, he had a bundle of joy in his arms, wrapped up in a pink blanket. The tiny human being underneath, who was sleeping before her father came to get her, let out a little whimper of protest for interrupting her sleep. Harry weighed her back and forth, shushing her softly. “It’s okay, angel.”

Harry’s eyes were full of love for this little miracle. Everybody could see it. He basically had her name written in them. Whenever, their baby girl was mentioned, his eyes lit up and a large smile covered his lips. What could he say? He was a proud daddy.

Y/N blended out the camera for a second and reached out to play with her daughters tiny fingers, then directed her attention back to it. Flustered, she said, “World, meet Olivia Rose Styles. Our daughter…”

She could imagine the amount of confusion and shock their announcement would create. People for sure wouldn’t stop talking about this for weeks. (Online) Magazines and newspapers would report about them. And Twitter? Twitter was going to freak out. She chuckled at the thought.

“It’s true, people,” Harry confirmed, his attention tightly fixed on baby Styles. “We’ve become mummy and daddy.”

“Yeah, we’re parents.” Y/N nodded her head. “That’s why I disappeared. Because I was pregnant. We wanted to keep it a secret.”

It was pretty easy to hide her baby bump in the first couple of months due to the fact that she wore and always loved to wear oversized clothing. Her entire wardrobe consisted mostly of oversized shirts and pullovers, and a few of Harry’s belongings. But the bigger her belly became, the harder it was to cover up the evidence. So, she decided to step out of the spotlight and enjoy her pregnancy to the fullest without any factors that stressed her out. Y/N belonged to the category of people who were easily stressed over the tiniest things; reading negative articles or tweets about her alone was enough to drive her insane, and because she knew that everything stressing her out would also affect the baby, Harry and her had agreed that she lived somewhere else with a better environment; a place where people wouldn’t chase after her and follow every step she did. Not that they would ever admit it, but Harry had bought an island for his Y/N as a wedding gift before they got married (he even ordered to build a house there), and that’s where she had retreated to for the rest of her pregnancy.  She really loved nature. Lying at the beach whenever she pleased felt so refreshing. Knowing that no one was going to snap pictures of her made her feel at ease. Being out of civilization, far away from negative influence, was very therapeutic for her. She attempted to use less social media, or media in general, only requiring it if she wanted to watch a certain event that Harry attended. Of course, she wasn’t all alone. Her husband would never let her. Instead, Harry had bodyguards around her that kept watching her and made sure she was safe when he wasn’t around. Anne and Gemma also kept her company. Harry, on the other side, couldn’t spend much time with her as he hoped, because of tons of work. He at least tried to leave the weekends unoccupied so that he could be with his wife. When it came to the control checks and appointments, Y/N was flown back to the city, with strict measures taken in order to keep her hidden. Or sometimes, her doctor would pay her a visit.

“This was my first pregnancy, and I wanted it to be a memorable experience. I wanted to be at peace, and vanishing seemed the only solution for me.”

Gemma’s voice behind the camera rang. “Explain why you’ve never been seen at a hospital.”

“Oh yes! I almost forgot about that. I gave birth at home!”

Harry, diverting his attention to the camera lens, added, “And it was truly an amazing experience.”

The day, Y/N delivered her baby, both of their mums, Gemma and a midwife were present. Their fathers were waiting outside the room, because Y/N found it embarrassing to give birth in front of her father, or in front of Des. It was painful and exhausting, robbing all strength in Y/N’s body. Harry couldn’t bear to see his poor wife in pain; he felt completely powerless over the situation, only holding his love, encouraging her and eventually, crying with her. He even blamed himself for putting her through so much ache. But, the moment they heard the shriek they were desperately waiting for, the young man completely broke down. When he held her for the first time, his heart felt so full and complete.  She looked like a copy of him, a baby version of himself. And her eyes… a shade of bluish- green.

“For the last three weeks, Harry and I have argued back and forth whether we make a wise decision,” She explained. “We discussed the advantages and disadvantages, and to be completely honest with you; even though the cons overweighed, we still decided to share out little secret with you before some strangers have the chance to release unpermitted information.”

Now that Y/N returned back from the island to their home, the chances of being discovered with a stroller was high. Besides, they didn’t plan on keeping Olivia in between four walls; they planned nice family trips for the future, so addressing their secret was the best.

Harry added, “We are in constant worry about her. You cannot really expect what people can do with an infant, especially if it’s my child. I hope you can understand that we don’t want anyone, except for family and friends, around her.” His expression became hard, his eyes transforming into an intense shade of green and his voice deeper than ever. “I may be kind, and don’t address certain things, but even I know how to destroy people’s lives, so be warned. If you come any closer to my daughter, I’ll end you.”

His statement startled Y/N. She had never experienced him like this before. Overprotective.  She looked at Gemma, who shared the same emotion as her. Y/N pulled herself together and continued talking. There was another point she aimed to address.

 “Please, don’t expect me to pull out the Kylie Jenner card and release a pregnancy journey video after all of this, because it’s not gonna happen,” Y/N informed, shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, not sorry guys. The past couple of months have been the most joyous and adventurous period of my life, something very special and intimate, and I don’t want to share it with the world expect for the people involved- our family and friends. That’s why I ask for acceptance and understanding.”

Indeed, Y/N had every moment recorded. Sometimes, she would even send a video to Harry while he was at work, mocking him for how much he was missing out. One day, she had sent him footage in which baby Styles had kicked for the very first time, and it had Harry almost jumping out of his socks. It had been in the middle of a meeting with his band when he had received the message. He had gasped loudly, covering his mouth in shock which had attracted everyone’s attention and having them stare at him confusedly. Harry, on the contrary, had tears pooling his eyes. And being the little show-off he is, he went around and proudly showed everybody what his unborn daughter was capable of doing now- not forgetting the occasional ‘That’s daddy’s girl!’ leaving from his pink lips.

“We don’t want anyone to expect too much from us. We are against the idea of sharing pictures online until she has reached a certain age, and we insist that this should be okay for everyone.”

The baby in Harry’s arms slowly became restless, a cry escaping her throat. Everyone took this as a signal to end the video. “Thank you guys for watching this short announcement video. Take care of yourselves, and please don’t overreact too much, okay? Bye!” Everyone winked at the camera, and the recording was done.

After the video was cut and properly edited, Y/N posted it on her channel. Not a even a minute had passed before it had scored thousands of views. Scrolling through the comment section, Y/N chuckled at the fans’ reactions.

Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr… every social platform was a mess. She received lots of comments on her accounts. Famous artists and influencers reached out to her, congratulating them for the new addition to the family.

It was just as Y/N expected; the world was going crazy…

[lideria]

Give Me a Few. | Johnny

Request: hi hi can you write smtg with johnny? like anything hhhh im soft for the man

Author’s Note: I miss school. Yes, that might be a crime but hear me out: this quarantine’s got me missing school and having crises over assignments and quizzes and tests, which is crazy to me. So, this shall be a college fic.

Warnings: A few swear words and a little anxiety. English is my second language so there might be errors + my brain is pushing a writer’s block on me but I won’t let it so there might be some complications with the flow loves I’m sorry.

Word Count: 1.752 IT’S SHORT.

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you like squint really hard, college!au, platonicfriends!au

Hope everyone who reads it enjoys!! 💚Have a lovely time, and good night for me lol

“The fuck?”

Johnny’s head bolts up at the frustrated question. He sees you hunched over the printed papers with your mechanical pencil in your hand and your phone in the other, scrunched eyebrows looking at the white surface scribbled all over with equations and formulas. The desk has eraser dust all over it, all from the past few hours of tussling with questions he thought must simply be too difficult. “That doesn’t make any sense, you sure that’s right?”

He can hear the faint “Dude yes, I used the calculator.” of your friend on the other end of the line, and sees your hand spring up to your temple, rubbing the spot as you let out a sigh. Shortly after, though, the mechanical pen comes back in contact with the paper. “Okay okay. Just guide me through that one more time please.”

Your friend cleans their throat so clearly Johnny can hear it, and with that he returns to his own share of notes. He is much more relaxed than you are since he has left his fair share of difficult examinations behind, and although he has a lot more memorizing to do still, it is whatever. Just two more to go.

It takes a few minutes for your friend to go over everything they had just told you, with you writing the formulas and equations down step by step, circling the ones you deemed important. You thank your friend for helping before hanging up.

Which is when the mechanical pencil is thrown out of your hand and onto the desk. “I’m gonna fail this final so bad,” You whine out. “Why make the course mandatory if half the faculty doesn’t even get it?” Leaned back on the chair, you rub your eyes with your fists. There is nothing more you want other than being done with the finals already and to never have to be acquainted with this course ever again— but you also have to pass it in order for that to become true.

“Should I just help?” Johnny suggests, his own studies long forgotten at that point. Not that he had been doing a particularly good job at focusing on them.

He sees you hunch back over the desk, looking at him with your hands tiredly placed on your cheeks. “Hasn’t it been like.. 2 semesters since you’ve taken this? Plus, you have a test tomorrow.”

Johnny clicks his tongue. “It’s history anyway— I couldn’t care less, it’s easy. Multiple choice.” Shutting his notebook close (which still amazes you how he can take notes by hand of a class like history where it is dominantly lecture material that matters), he stands up and instead takes a seat on the chair beside yours. “I’d rather struggle with formulas than read about every revolution there ever was.”

“Easy to say when you ace tests without studying for them.” You mumble, which makes Johnny smile. He could not protest that because it was true. He was a good listener during class, which helped him tons with assignments, which in turn helped him not forget the class material. The only type of courses that truly got to him were the ones where most things are dependent on discussions, arguments or debates where he needed to improvise. Not because he is bad at any of them, just because he is the type to take problems more subjectively rather than objectively.

Johnny tells you to take a breather for a few minutes while he tries to get what is going on in the question. You see this as an opportunity to take a few sips from your sugary drink that is supposed to get you through this night’s study session that is sure to become an all nighter considering you still have a couple of pages to work out. Then you check your phone, scrolling through your social media for a little, until Johnny’s hand lightly lands on your forearm. “I think I figured it out.”

“You did?” The question sounds more hopeful than it should have. “Mhm,” His eyes land on your phone momentarily before he continues speaking. “Let’s have dinner first, though.”

For you to agree he almost has to literally drag you outside of the study room the two of you had occupied, but he manages to bring you out by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and waddling his way out until the door closes and locks behind you. The two of you then make your way to the cafeteria just because you could not be bothered with making any food or asking for delivery.

While you eat, Johnny tells you he is almost sure you could not get the question because your brain was fried rather than being unable to do it. Although not knowing if it is true or not you are thankful that he says it, because it gives you a motivational boost.

Both because you are hungry and because you really need all the studying you can get, you hurry up eating— barely even tasting the food before you leave to get back to the study room.

When you are back both of you immediately go back to your seats, putting your phones on flight mode before abandoning them at the far end of the desk. Johnny takes your mechanical pencil and eraser, erasing your jotted answer before starting to re-read and rephrase the question for you. He writes down the answer step by step, making sure you truly understand everything and stopping when you need to get your head wrapped on some things.

And when he erases his writings so you can write the answer down, he gives you encouraging pats on your shoulder, letting his hand rest there as a reminder that he is there if you need to ask something.

At some point he places his chin on your shoulder as well to watch you. Not you writing your answer down, but you. “You’re being annoying right now.” You mumble, to which he chuckles slightly. “Am I?”

“You are,” Confirming the statement, you tap down at the desk. “Just look. I got the right answer this time.”

He does. The smile that spreads across his face soon after he does so makes you proud. “See, I told you it was only your overworked brain.”

With a roll of your eyes you thank him, before turning back to the many practice questions that awaited you. The questions start coming as a breeze for the first couple of hours as you gather help from your textbooks with your freshened mind. Johnny starts to play one of his many playlists with chill songs on it, reaching out for his phone to do it before also reaching out for his notebook and highlighters, returning to history out of the sheer fact that it would make him feel better if he studied while you were.

The music in the background provides a nice ambiance in the room, much more lighthearted and relaxed than how it has been for the whole study session so far. Johnny and you take turns leaving the room to walk around, partly to get some exercise and partly to delay the point where you would get sleepy.

The night seems to go by faster after you start studying for the second time. And surely after some time, you had to start leaving the study room not for short walks, but to wash your face in order to stay awake.

Letters slowly start to form a gibberish language in your mind, numbers becoming a jumble of weird lines and strokes. What really breaks all that you have left of wakefulness, though, is when Johnny starts softly humming to the songs on his never-ending playlist.

His voice is deep and strains when he is using such a low tone to hum to the songs, but it is still quite the attention catcher. You cannot help but start listening to him, and you certainly cannot help your hand that trails off of the practice questions. Within a few songs’ time, your eyes get droopy and your world gets droopy, too. But you honestly try to fight off the sleep.

Yet, sleep is much stronger than whatever is keeping you awake.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” The announcement comes as a surprise even to you, but you reach out for your bag and drag it until it is in front of you on the desk. “What’re you doing?”  Johnny throws a soft yet questioning look at you even though it must be obvious what you are doing. “I’m gonna use it as a pillow.”

“Just lay your head on my arm,” He says as if it is nothing, and shrugs a little when you look at him with your own pair of questioning eyes. “My cardigan’s thick and soft enough to be comfortable for both you and me.”

You smile at him, and pull your bag full of books and binders aside. Reaching out for his left arm, you hold his hand lightly— even though he is fully capable of lifting his forearm to place it in front of you— and drag his arm to the space previously occupied by your bag. He returns to his notes, unbothered, and gets back to humming along to the songs.

When you place your head on his forearm you smile at the scent of his cardigan, the scent of the coffee he had had before you started studying still embedded into the fabric.

You shut your eyes that do not have the motivation to fight off the sweet invitation of sleep. And if anybody ever asked you, you would say you fell asleep before Johnny finished the line he was humming to.

And if anybody ever asked you, it was the one of the best (and deepest) sleeps you had; your face engulfed in him and his cardigan’s warmth, your arms closed around his forearm, hunched over the desk in a position that is surely going to ache your back— until there is a scratch at the top of your head and through your hair. “Hm?”

“An hour’s passed.” He whispers, his hand still in your hair. You draw his arm closer to you, nuzzling your face into the fabric. You were not the one with a test tomorrow, and you were surely not the one with a test tomorrow that you could ace with your eyes closed. “Gimme 15 minutes.”

You hear him laugh. “Okay, big baby.”

[theunderdogwrites]

2020: The Year I Lost My Ass

Well, we reached the end of that toilet roll only to start another one, because that is what we do for as long as we are allowed to continue revolutions around the sun – we keep going.

2020 was a terrible year for so many. My brain is incapable of processing the number of losses suffered on a global scale. Be it jobs, security, rights, sanity, relationships or life. My brain is not just incapable of these calculations, it has plain refused to entertain those thoughts on behalf of my heart. My heart, that sensitive little blood pumping work horse who not once allows itself to stop. Thank goodness.

I don’t believe the majority of people are willing and able to bring themselves to fully comprehend what was lost in 2020.

Here is a list of a few more losses suffered last year:

- People lost their shit. And over the most ridiculous things like toilet paper, having to wear a mask to secure toilet paper and being held to the consequences resulting from not wearing a mask when asked to while attempting to purchase toilet paper. Pause for a moment and let that last sentence hang around in your mind. 2020 made that happen. I didn’t make it up! Recently I saw a news piece showing a man (40’s) lying down on the floor in a Costco to protest being asked to wear a mask. He spoke loudly, he beat his hands at his sides and wildly kicked his legs when an employee asked him to get up. Now, I am not judging for I too have participated in such behaviour MANY times. Granted I was three, but hey… some of us mature faster than others.

 - People lost their damn minds. 2020 should be dubbed “The Year of The Karen”. For those of you not in the know about the Karen phenomenon, here is a description courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

 “Karen is a pejorative term used in the United States and other English-speaking countries for a woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is appropriate or necessary. A common stereotype is that of a white woman who uses her privilege to demand her own way at the expense of others.’

 Basically, a Karen is a I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER type person (There is a male equivalent, but it seems no one can agree on the name… Chad, Terry, Kyle, Kevin, Steve). You can often find a Karen on her cellphone calling the police to report a black man who lives in her neighborhood, simply living his life in her neighbourhood. I didn’t make that up either.

 More recently a Karen was videoed in a UPS store claiming that she didn’t have to wear a mask because that space was government property and not a private business. Would it be safe to say that most Karen types suffer from a lack of oxygen to their brain? Possibly. But that would involve science and Karen types DO NOT enjoy hard facts.

 As always when I download my thoughts into reality, I must go within and search myself. Am I a Karen? My immediate answer is: no fucking way. I can honestly say I’ve never once asked to see a manager or called the police to report someone eating their lunch on a park bench. I do not enjoy confrontation. Unless there is a bully involved. Then I will drag that person to hell with me. I much prefer discussion over going straight to the ‘I triple dog dare you!’ approach to the world. (If you got that reference, you are my new favourite) Because that is who a Karen really is… someone who jumps right to the most extreme action in order to satisfy their need to be superior. Truly, we should feel sorry for these people because instead of engaging they’re raging. And how awful must their insides feel… always full of anger, fear and self doubt. I say instead of judging these Karen types or putting them on blast on social media, we should hug the shit out of them. Just grab them and squeeze as hard as you fucking can until they stop talking. Peaceful solutions my friends, peaceful solutions.

 - Pets lost their faith in us. Children a close second. If you are a proud owner of a pet or a child, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve always operated under the notion that my cat loves it when I’m home and hates it when I leave. 2020 has taught me it might be the other way around. Because our animals are, well, animals we just believe our presence is the greatest gift in their lives. Remember when you were old enough to be left alone by your parents and once you had the taste of that kind of freedom, you just wanted more of it and couldn’t wait for them to go out? I feel it’s like that with our pets now. We might not think animals have a routine or preferences or enjoy some alone time, but we’d be wrong.

I think at first our pets were thrilled. If we are home more it means more time for prolonged petting, walks and the opportunity to ritualistically train us to respond to their caterwauls for more food and treats than normal. But then as the weeks of lockdown and working from home increased, so did our pets desire to kill us in our sleep.

 I’m pretty sure my cat has asked me several times using her feline glare: “why the fuck won’t you just leave?”. It would be naïve of us to assume we don’t disrupt their day with our constant noise making and snacking and scotch drinking that leads to a good buzz that leads to showing too much affection to our pets. To the point where they run and hide when they see us coming. Please tell me I didn’t describe just my own experience.

 There is such a thing as everything in moderation, we know this, so I think it can be applied here. People, get away from your pets. Give them the space you often desire from human beings. Because if you don’t, that random turd in your shoe could be pointing to a much larger, more alarming problem you’re about to encounter.

 I had the absolute blessing of being able to assist in caring for and raising of my three nephews (12,9,6) for the last 11 years. So, when I say: ‘children are always watching us’, I feel I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been mimicked so often by these young boys that I’ve had to pause due to mortification. Children will hold you accountable without even knowing it. I’ve had some behaviours of mine corrected by a 5-year-old and let me tell you, it stings like hell.

 As adults, when our world was thrown into turmoil because of Covid-19, we looked to our medical health professionals and our politicians for guidance. Basically, we searched for those who would lead us. The children – looked to us. And while many adults handled this responsibility the best they possibly could, many more failed miserably and displayed attitudes I can only describe as juvenile, damaging and pathetic. I suppose it doesn’t help if the people the adults are looking to for help are themselves - juvenile, damaging and pathetic.

 When I say we still have not grasped just how much has been lost over the past year, I’m hinting at integrity, compassion and creditability. Three vital qualities you’d hope people want to instill into their children. But if they themselves are unable to display such valuable traits, what does this say for the children who are looking up to them as an example on how to act when life gets challenging?

 For myself in 2020, I gained by losing.

When they locked our gyms down for four months last spring, I came close to being one of those people who lost their shit. While people were moaning about wearing a mask for 20 minutes in the grocery store, I was contemplating if murdering those people could be considered a cardio exercise and would that hold up in a court of law.

To reflect on that time period now (especially since our gyms are closed AGAIN at the moment) the loss of the gyms brought me the knowledge of how important the routine of going to and being in the gym is to my mental health. I won’t launch into how I feel about shopping malls being open and gyms being closed despite their proven benefit to one’s overall health because then I really will lose my shit.

People always say getting to the gym is the hardest part and once they’re there it’s easy to workout. And for many that is the truth, but for me it’s all a part of the workout. Getting to the gym is the psychological effort. Putting in the work at the gym is the physical. You can’t have one without the other. I became so pathetic that I’d often walk to the closed gym from my house, stare at the closed doors and then walk home. 1.5 hour round trip. True story.

Remember a few years back everyone became obsessed with that Netflix show ‘Tidying Up with Marie Kondo’? It is the show where that lovely woman from Japan showed us all how to declutter our homes by getting rid of anything that didn’t bring us joy. Those acid wash jeans from 1989… sit with them… hold them close to your chest… if they don’t make you happy, remove them from your space. Well, the same idea can be applied to people and ideas and even feelings. And 2020 was a great year for simplifying our lives. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they can’t wait to get back to ‘normal’… not me. I’ve already started my ‘new normal’.

The loss of drama has gained me peace and a better understanding of the importance of remaining true to who I am instead of trying to please others in hopes it wins me points. Because it doesn’t. Because its inauthentic and only brings you more loss and more drama. And anxiety. And sleepless nights. And an overall sense of hatred for everyone. 2020 gave me the option to no longer care about the things that don’t make me happy and to embrace the process of letting all that stupid bullshit fade away.

It was a year of gained focus.

It was a year of gained appreciation.

It was a year of gained gratitude.

It was a year of gained love for myself.

 I’m going to leave you now, but not before I share one of my favorite songs by the Tragically Hip:

In A World Possessed by The Human Mind

Just give me the news

It can all be lies

Exciting over fair or the right thing at the right time

Everything is clear

Just how you described

The way it appears, "A world possessed by the human mind"

 Then I think I smiled

Then I think you said, "it's fine"

And quietly I dressed, in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 We're in awe of no one

We've none of their fear

Fighting's goin' nowhere and we stay right here

Where everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

"In the shadow of the law and with colours of justice"

 Then I hope I smiled

Then I'm sure you said, "It's fine"

They got no interest in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

Quiet enough to hear God rustlin' around in the bushes

Oh, but it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

 Then I hope I laughed

Then I hope I said, "it's fine"

And quietly undressed in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Oh it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgXphurrsE0

[phroyd]

The Proud Boys want the public to believe that they’re a “drinking club” who only resort to violence to defend themselves from anti-fascist protesters during political rallies.

But in private, these extremists have discussed injuring and even killing their adversaries, plotting tactics and optics for months in order to assert a claim of self-defense should they face charges.

According to private chat logs obtained exclusively by HuffPost, the punch-happy, pro-Trump street gang was particularly excited for its “Resist Marxism” rally, scheduled for April 6 in Providence, Rhode Island. With the right plan of attack, members said, this one could put them back on the map.

This mother f**ker needs to meet a 7mm [Magnum rifle] from about 500 yards.Proud Boy Shaun Hufton in private chats.

The group had been floundering ever since 10 of its members were arrested for assaulting protesters outside a GOP event in New York City last year. Their leader, Vice Media co-founder Gavin McInnes, reportedly arranged for his followers’ surrender.

In the chats, covering a time period between February and March of this year, members claimed they needed a conclusive “win” this time around, which they defined as a bloody battle against “antifa” in Providence. If this brawl were bigger and more violent than previous iterations, they might regain some of the street cred and followers they’d lost.

“We’ll grow this group of patriots and we’ll never back down,” wrote the event’s organizer, Proud Boys member Alan Swinney, in the private chat messages. “If we win, it will make more patriots come to the next rally. We just need to go there and we’ll beat them. We’ll have enough to crush them at some point.”

A source with direct knowledge of the exchanges confirmed to HuffPost that the logs were authentic. Swinney also responded to several screenshots. When asked about discussions of violence in the chat logs, he told HuffPost, “They’re warriors. ... Choir boys don’t go up against people like that [anti-fascists]. It takes a person with a certain type of mindset.”

The logs contained a revolving door of up to 30 Proud Boys and their allies, including militia members and other “patriots,” as Swinney called them. Those named in this story either publicly identify as members of the Proud Boys or affiliated groups, or have been identified as such in national news stories or by the groups’ leaders.

Looking forward to Providence, members in the private channel were pumped for the opportunity to cause mayhem. One Proud Boy named Anthony Mastrostefano said:

“All I want to do is smash commies too. Actually I’m lying, I’m way past just hitting them. When the time comes I will stop at nothing to fully eradicate them all!”

“We’re A Drinking Club”

The Proud Boys have a yearslong history of violence, and they’ve built an entire brand off of the fights they’ve helped organize in American streets, from spars in Los Angeles and Portland, Oregon, to attacks in Providence and New York.

McInnes created a set of rules by which his gang members could gain clout in the organization, which include forgoing masturbation, getting a Proud Boy tattoo and fighting in the name of the gang.

Their leadership has always claimed that such violence is incidental, acts of self-defense necessitated by their anti-fascist opponents, who show up to each of their purported free-speech events in protest.

They’ve gone as far as to file lawsuits to maintain that facade ― on Monday, several of their members stood at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., and announced that they were suing the Southern Poverty Law Center for labeling them as a hate group. McInnes himself filed a defamation lawsuit against the civil rights organization in February.

“We’re a drinking club that stands behind Donald Trump,” said Proud Boys chairman Enrique Tarrio at the D.C. event. “That’s enough to earn hate of the left.”

But private chat logs leaked to HuffPost fly directly in the face of that sentiment, showing Proud Boys premeditating violence they hope to commit. They spent months before the April rally meticulously planning strategies for injuring protesters.

Members discuss what weapons they might use against the “commies” they’ll meet in the street, which police officers might be sympathetic to them, how they’ll raise funding to fly out their long-distance compatriots, and how they’ll “bait” protesters into throwing the first punch so that they can claim self-defense.

HuffPost has reviewed dozens of private messages shared among a small group of Proud Boys and their allies, mostly on the social app Telegram, in the months leading up to the “Resist Marxism” rally they had planned for April. The chat logs were leaked by a source who wished to remain anonymous out of fear for their safety.

The rally ultimately didn’t happen, but the logs provide an inside look into the extremist group’s strategy as well as evidence that such planning continues to this day.

The Proud Boys Premeditate Violence

“Group, meet Kindness,” wrote Proud Boy Jason Cardona on Telegram, above a selfie in which he’s holding his pet, an ax.

“Ahhh, Kindness,” crowed Proud Boy Peter Scott in response. Scott then posted a picture of himself holding a large knife. Another member, Jake Adkins, posted a short video depicting an unknown device, asking the group, “Think I can get this thru in a checked bag?”

On Telegram, the Proud Boys privately fantasized about the weapons they might like to use against anti-fascist protesters at the rally in Providence. But they were also cautious about what weapons they told others to bring, as they didn’t want to face more arrests.

Scott noted that mace is “100 percent legal for self-defense” and directed everyone else in the chat to “armor up boys!” Makeshift armor is a common sight among Proud Boys, militia groups and other far-right extremists at these rallies. Depending on where a gathering occurs, concealed guns are also a possibility.

“If you’re in a state that can show up with your guns that’s fine. Up here in New England you can’t but some of us still show up,” wrote Proud Boy member Kenny Lizardo. HuffPost reported on Lizardo last year after he showed up on the doorstep of a comedian to intimidate him over his tweets

“I carry but it seems like to [sic] much could go wrong with that,” wrote Proud Boy Jason Lewis. “Big patriot fists and boots will do just fine.”

The gun-measuring contest was interspersed with analysis of street-level warfare. They explored how to counter “black bloc” tactics used by anti-fascists, in which protesters wear all black to make it hard to distinguish individuals, and they shared stories about previous exploits, most of which included getting a solid punch in without getting caught.

In some chats, the Proud Boys claimed to have ties to local law enforcement, though it’s unclear how legitimate those relationships were. As reported by the Portland, Oregon, alt-weekly Willamette Week, the Proud Boys and Patriot Prayer ― their close allies on the West Coast ― have had some success garnering police sympathy during their fights.

“Last year we had two different cops ‘admiring’ our work,” said John Stewart. “One told us ‘they don’t want to fight you guys again they are pussies.’ The other thanked us as we walked by him.”

But they would never learn if their apparent clout with police would help them stage their April 6 rally in Providence ― it fell apart before it began. The national Proud Boys “elders” announced at the time that the gathering was postponed while they focused on the trials of those 10 Proud Boys arrested and charged over last year’s attacks in New York City.

They Know What They’re Doing

The Proud Boys repeatedly acknowledged that their plans could get them in trouble.

“I advise all of you to only speak in terms of self-defense and never speak of premeditated violence,” wrote a man who identified himself as Kyle “Based Stickman” Chapman, an extremist who has previously been convicted of violent felonies and is known for his attacks at rallies and repeated parole violations, among other crimes.

He added: “I could be liable for what happens in Providence. So please stop making it easy for these people to prosecute us by putting threats of violence in writing that can be used against us later.”

Few seemed to listen, and leaders like Swinney had to attempt damage control on a regular basis.

For example, Proud Boy Shaun Hufton at one point made a direct threat to kill an anti-fascist activist who goes by the pseudonym Antifash Gordon on Twitter:

“This mother fucker needs to meet a 7mm [Magnum rifle] from about 500 yards,” he said, to which Scott responded, “Do not post any threats on here, the feds will use it against [us] in court.”

For his part, Swinney often repeated the “defense-only” deflection, demanding that other Proud Boys characterize their “rallies against communists” as acts of preservation and their presence as a security detail for rallygoers.

In an interview, Swinney corroborated the authenticity of chat screenshots HuffPost showed him and said he personally agreed with statements about “smashing commies” like Mastrostefano’s.

“He specifically said ‘when the time comes,’” Swinney told HuffPost, adding later: “When the time comes, and the order is given, I’ll do whatever it takes to stop these people. The constitution is the greatest document of freedom ever written. I’ll give my life to defend it if nessicary [sic].”

Phroyd

[ill-will-editions]

CALL TO ACTION FROM  FIRST YELLOW JACKET ‘ASSEMBLY OF ASSEMBLIES’

Translated by Ill Will Editions

Photo caption: “We will no longer live like slaves” 

The following call to action emerged from the first Yellow Jacket “Assembly of Assemblies” held near Commercy, France, in late January 2019. We recommend checking out this statement [includes English & German subtitles] issued by the Montreuil Yellow Jackets in the lead-up to the assembly, if only for the plain-spoken beauty with which they express a revolutionary disposition toward the present. Lastly, although the present text was initially translated into English by others as a call for a ‘general strike’, let it be noted that the wording of the Commercy assembly is more down to earth, and consciously steers clear of this arch-syndicalist mythologeme.  -IWE

*** 

A call to action proposed by the Assembly of Assemblies at Commercy. Offered for adoption to every local assembly.

We, Yellow Jackets in the roundabouts, parking lots, squares, assemblies, marches, came together on the 26th and 27th of January 2019. Our "Assembly of Assemblies" gathered one hundred delegations who replied to the call from the Commercy Yellow Jackets.

Since November 17th, from the smallest hamlet to the greatest city, we have risen up against this violent, unjust, and impossible society. We won't let each other go! We revolt against a life too expensive to live, against precarity and misery. We want dignified lives for our friends, family, and the next generation. It's unacceptable that 26 billionaires hold as much wealth as half of humanity. Let's spread this wealth instead of misery! We must end social inequality! We say everyone should have raises: wages, welfare, and pensions should all pay more. Everyone has the inalienable right to decent housing, education, and free public services.

It's for all these rights that we daily occupy the roundabouts, that we organize collective action, protests, and debate everywhere. With our yellow jackets, we reclaim the right to speak, we who have never before had it.

And how has the government responded? Repression, contempt, and insults.  Deaths, as well as thousands wounded by the massive deployment of weapons designed to mutilate, eviscerate, wound and traumatize. Over a thousand people have been arbitrarily condemned and imprisoned. Now a proposed "anti-riot" law aims to bar us from protesting. We condemn all violence against protesters from police and violent gangs. None of this will stop us! Protest is a basic right. End impunity for the forces of order! Amnesty for all the victims of repression!

And what a sham is this ‘great national debate’, which is in fact nothing but a media campaign of the government designed to co-opt our will to debate and decide! True democracy is what we practice in our assemblies, on our roundabouts, it is neither on TV-sets nor in the pseudo-roundtables organized by Macron.

After degrading and deploring us, they spin us as a hateful, xenophobic, fascist mob. But we are the exact opposite. We're not "racist, sexist, anti-gay.” We are proud to come together with our differences to build a solidarity society.

We are strong in our diverse discussions. Even now, some assemblies are proposing new and sweeping demands. They speak to real democracy, social and economic justice, working conditions, climate and ecological justice, and the end of discrimination. Among the demands debated and strategies contested, we find: the end of all misery, the transformation of institutions (plebiscites, new constitutional assembly, end of elected privileges, etc.), ecological transition (energy insecurity, industrial pollution, etc.), the equality and respect for everyone regardless of nationality (dignity for the disabled, equality of the sexes, restoration of working-class neighborhoods, rural life, and overseas territories).

We, the Yellow Jackets, invite everyone to join us with their skills and abilities. We call for the Acts to continue, (Act 12 against police violence will take place in front of their stations, Acts 13 and 14, etc.), for the roundabout occupations and economic blockades to continue, and to build toward a massive, renewable strike on February 5th. We call on everyone to form committees where they work, study, and everywhere else, to ensure that the strike is built up from the base by the strikers themselves. Let's take matters into our own hands! Don't remain alone, join us!

Let’s get organized in true democratic fashion, autonomously, and independently! This Assembly of Assemblies is an important step that allows us to discuss our demands and actions. Let's federate together and transform society!

We ask all Yellow Jackets to share this call. If it suits your group, send us your signature to Commercy (assembleedesassemblees@gmail.com). Don't hesitate to discuss and prepare proposals for the next Assembly of Assemblies that we're already preparing.

MACRON MUST GO! ALL POWER TO THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE, AND BY THE PEOPLE.

[samwrights]

Perceived Imperfection

Another submission done for @madmadmilk and her 5k Celebration! I really wanted to get this done and posted before submissions closed. I was feelin’ real low and it totally inspired a plus size!reader/ED blurb type of thing., so I hope y’all enjoy but also feel empowered.

Pairing: plus size!reader x Tom Holland

Prompt: Body positivity piece

Warning: Mild talks of EDs

Being Tom Holland’s girlfriend was pretty cool. Okay, it was more than pretty cool. He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you, and that had nothing to do with his fame. Tom was your best friend, your hype man, and just an all around amazing partner. You loved him even without the fame—especially without the fame, or rather you’d prefer it if he weren’t famous. But at the end of the day, you supported his dream, his art, his passion for acting. You would never stand in the way of that.

Even if that meant going to red carpet events or interviews with him, much to your dismay. Being in the public eye was so difficult for you with your constant struggle of accepting and loving your body and your own self. How could you even accept and love yourself, knowing you were maybe a solid four on a good day while Tom was a perfect ten? Plus the rumors of Tom and Zendaya dating? That had absolutely killed your self esteem the first time you heard it. Because why wouldn’t he want to date another perfect ten instead of dating a fat, frumpy potato such as yourself? But at the end of every single, self doubt filled day, Tom reassured you he loved you, curves and all.

Currently, you were standing off stage while he was a guest on the Ellen Show. He was laughing along, answering question after question that Ellen Degeneres could ask about Spider-Man: Homecoming. “So, Tom. There has been a photo circulating around on the internet of you and who I’m assuming is your girlfriend?” His face lit up at the mention of you.

“Yeah! That’s Y/N, she is so amazing and she comes with me to all of my events and premiers and interviews—“

“Oh, is she here now?” Ellen asked. Tom said yes, but was fully prepared to defend you from coming onto the stage. He knew how much you hated being in the spot light. “Let’s bring her out!” Much to your protests, a stagehand guided you to the couches and sat you down right next to Tom. Immediately, you reached for his hand as a nervous habit before crossing your legs and using your free hand to cover your stomach. “Tom, I must say your girlfriend is beautiful! What’s your name, honey?”

“H-hi. I’m Y/F/N Y/LN.” You said with a shaky breath. At this, Tom placed a kiss to your temple in hopes to calm your nerves. The crowd cooed at the motion, making Tom smile brightly.

“So this is the first interview you’ve actually done with Tom, is that right?” You nodded, allowing Ellen to continue. “How long have you two been together?” Tom looked at you, encouraging you to answer.

“We’ve been together for almost four years.” The crowd cheered at this, making you smile and hide your face in slight embarrassment. As Tom knew, being in public was incredibly difficult for you due to severely low self esteem.

“Wow, four years! Congratulations, you two. Now, I’m dying to ask, Y/N. What is it like being Spider-Man’s girlfriend?” You let out a soft chuckle, nerves starting to ebb away at the very familiar question that had popped up on your social media.

“Well, it’s an honor, for sure. I’m so proud of Tommy and I’m his biggest fan.” Though the audience was overwhelmed with cheers once again, you couldn’t help but notice a few of the women in the crowd were glaring at you. You were trying your best to ignore it, but squeezed Tom’s hand tighter to let him know your anxiety was coming back. “He really is just the most supportive person, and I try really hard to reciprocate that.”

“And she’s amazing at it.” Tom adds.

“And what would you say is the most difficult thing about your relationship?” Ellen asked. You felt your stomach drop, and it must have been incredibly apparent, as the entire studio went quiet as people awaited your answer.

“It’s okay, love.” Tom whispers, gripping your hand tightly back to let you know he was here for you.

“T-the hardest thing would probably have to be the commentary on his social media posts.” You tried your best to keep a strong, brave face, but you could feel tears welling in your eyes. “He gets a lot of hate comments for dating a plus-sized, normal girl. I’ve had to read a ton of hateful comments and it’s really painful. I-I’ve, um...struggled with body dysmorphia my entire life and it’s hard because you don’t see yourself for what you really are, so on some days, it just feels like a single comment adds another pound to my body.”

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, that sounds so terrible. I’m so sorry.” Ellen put her microphone and cue cards down before standing up and making her way over to you. Before you could comprehend the situation, Ellen Degeneres was hugging you. Tears began to stream down your face as you silently sobbed in the talk show hosts’ arms. You were unsure of how long the two of you stood there in a solemn embrace, but she had to pull away eventually. When she returned to her seat, Tom wrapped his arms around you, peppering kisses on your cheeks until your sobs stopped. “Despite the nastiness of the internet, it doesn’t seem to put a strain on you two.” Ellen said, gesturing to Tom’s arms that were still around you, refusing to let go of you.

“Not at all.” He answered. “If anything, it makes me love her more. I make sure to tell her every day how gorgeous she looks, because I want her to be able to look in a mirror and see that someone else recognizes her beauty, and that she should be able to see it too.” You felt so much more secure with his arms wrapped around you, as you always did. Just his presence was enough to remind you that this amazing man loved you and thought you, of all the people in the world, were beautiful.

“Tom has learned how to handle me having my episodes in such a way that is so uniquely him.” You decided to add, building up on the topic and your confidence very slowly started to show through. “Like pretty much every day, I rip apart my closet and try on five hundred different outfits until I find something that looks okay and flattering and doesn’t make me feel like a whale. But he puts up with it and tells me which outfit he likes best.”

“Ooh, ooh! And she models them for me in our bedroom so I get to have a private runway show of the love of my life.” You looked at Tom in adoration, never knowing that that was how he felt about those moments. Sure, he was your hype man and he always told you that you looked incredible in anything, but hearing that just warmed your heart.

“That is so precious!” Ellen cheers, along with the crowd.

“Y/N is really just so wonderful and there’s so much more to her than just her beauty. She’s the most understanding, hardworking, strong, and graceful human being—I truly love everything about her.” Tom was still gushing over you after what had probably already been at least fifteen minutes. But hearing him announce how he felt over and over was helping you build the courage to speak. 

“Ellen, I just want to add something real quick.” You said quickly, wanting to share a message you had to keep in mind to move you through harder days. “I know a lot of the time, I really do struggle with my body. I hate what I see when I look in a mirror because all I see is a blob. But when I just look at my body through my own eyes, it’s a completely different experience. Like when I look at my legs, I think of the decade I spent training in gymnastics when I was younger. Or when I look at my arms, I know I can go toe to toe with Tom in a boxing match, but they are also delicate enough to create different kinds of art. I think on my worst days, I try remember what my body is capable of versus what it looks like because it’s so much more important.” Tom looked at you, stunned at the bravery and courageousness it took for you to give that little speech.

“That was...beautiful, Y/N. I’m so glad Spidey has such a strong willed woman by his side.” Ellen said before clapping, creating a ripple affect and causing the entire audience to applaud. “You both are such goals and a huge inspiration to everyone. Let’s give it up for Tom Holland and Y/F/N Y/L/N! Thank you, and goodnight!” You and Tom both raised one of your hands, still holding onto each other’s other one with fingers intertwined, as the crowd continued to clap. The light that signaled that cameras were rolling finally stopped after the applause had died down.

“That was amazing, love. You were amazing.” Tom said after the two of you had exited staged right. He gave you a tight hug, pressing you as close as he could to his body.

“Thanks to you, Tommy. Thank you for loving me for me.”

[arts-su]

Darkroom Update

Hey guys, your Education Officer here!

I’ve been dying to share some great news with you all - the darkroom bar at LCC will be re-opening! This is a direct result of the student lead #savethedarkroombar campaign which took place last term. Being part of a campaign is far from easy but this is a clear example of the changes that can happen when students band together, to fight and support one another. I am so extremely proud of everyone who participated in the campaign. Whether you signed the petition, attended meetings, designed posters or helped to organise the protest, you were instrumental in achieving our goal.

I have heard many versions of what caused the closure of the bar but the truth is that the darkroom bar is one of several commercial spaces that the Student Union own. Your SU is funded by UAL. Due to the lack of funding coming from the university at the time, the SU was forced to make a challenging decision – either cut back in other areas (such as our student lead activities) or close the bar indefinitely. Additional factors that played a part in this decision were the unfair restrictions, the prohibition of advertising the bar, the mistreatment of our bar staff and the unreasonable opening hours.

LCC’s Darkroom bar is the only existing student union bar across all fourteen of our sites, But It’s not just a bar it is the epicentre of LCC’S student community. The bar serves as a networking hub and is used to socialise, relax and build communities. Tutors are often popping in and out for drinks, this is an environment where students and teachers are able to connect and unwind. Some of my best experiences at university happened in the darkroom bar!

As a former LCC student and elected officer I felt conflicted, I was frustrated because essentially the student union had been backed into a corner. However, the SU have a responsibility to act on the students behalf and I felt it unfair to close the bar without hearing your voices. The decision to launch a campaign was basically a no brainer.

The #savethedarkroombar petition gained over 600 signatures and the overwhelming response helped to propel the campaign to the next stage,. In reality it is the small things such as sharing and signing a petition that make the biggest difference to the scale of a campaign. Our regular campaign meetings attracted various groups of students and staff, there were often new faces showing up. Students ran regular stalls on campus to increase petition signatures and organised a successful poster and social media campaign to generate awareness. By putting pressure on UAL and lobbying the students union the campaign was not going unnoticed.

On Thursday the 6th of November a group of LCC students from the #savethedarkroombar campaign protested against the closure of the bar. By joining forces with students from the ‘UAL, End Outsourcing’ campaign’ they were able to deliver an enormous win on behalf of UAL students. Student representatives from each campaign were invited to speak at our fortnightly meeting with the university and I have to say a massive, massive well done to Amber Moya Goneni (CSM) and Tenz Kotomah (LCC) for delivering your points across so well!

Despite the group being small, we achieved a massive win, and as a consequence of the amazing campaigning the darkroom bar has been saved and will be restored this term!

Attending university can be an extremely tumultuous experience, it is tough and it is expensive! However, it can also be the start of an wonderful journey, through campaigning I was able to become part of a community, meet individuals I probably would never speak to and I felt empowered to be an advocate for change. Whether it is two people or two hundred people your voice is important. There is no campaign too small that can’t have a win!

So what happens next?

Well, you can keep up to date on all things darkroom by joining the Facebook group: Save The Darkroom Bar

Or by emailing me at: a.israel@su.arts.ac.uk

Once we have a launch date this will be put out on all our socials so make sure to check the SU Facebook page: Arts SU: UAL's Students' Union

We are currently turning our focus to the UAL end Outsourcing Campaign As workers and students at UAL we support the cleaners who are calling to be brought back in house. We do not think it is acceptable that the workers who look after the areas in which we work and study are employed by a separate company on poorer terms and conditions. Our cleaners need your support! To find out more follow the page UAL Justice 4 Workers.

If you feel like you want to launch your own campaign or have ideas for a campaign you would like the Student Union to run, we would love to hear them so please do get in touch.

I look forward to having a drink with you all soon!

Anita xox

[girlgossipclub]

How might activists use social media in the future?

Before I start to share how activits use social media in future, we must understand what is activist from thousand years ago, activism is a derives from the verb to act. As an activist is someone who is actively in campaigning for a change, normally this is on political or social issues. And this methods they use in oreder to bring about change.

Have you guys see how active activist in western and europe on issue about animals skin especially in London fashion Week, to remind people that there’s nothing fasnionable about exploiting animals, as the women are topless stood proud showing off bold writing across their chest that read, “Wear Your Own Skin, and this events they also record it and to show in social media for people to sign-up and be part of the change.

As we all know, social media gained a reputation over the years for fake news, but it’s also important platform for activist group to spread awareness about social issues, and bad politions. And this is something, people must scared of especially politions who have done corruption.

Social media is a powerful tools for us as citizen to speak out about something is not right about our country, let’s flasback on what happened to Najib Razak, when people start to aware about his bad politic and everyone start to protest and just a blink of eyes he just lost all his power. And I believe, the most richest person in this world are someone that believe in them.

Apart from that, the killing of George Floyd in May 2020 wasn't the first instance of police brutality to be documented on camera. Even when others shared it on social media, it wasn't the first. However, a potent mix of outrage over the video and a lockdown that kept millions confined to their homes and hooked to their screens sparked a summer of protests in the US and elsewhere.

Everyone was stranded at home, so many people went to social media to offer comfort. It all began when their profile photo was altered. However, social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter also functioned as hubs for organising livestreamed public protests that took place in person.

As we talk how they use social media for activism in future, but we must understand that they all already use it know, the images, video and coference of certain issues to be publish in social media. However, we as people behind the screen must concern or aware about what they want us to see. To be honest, I have seen activism in social media or perhaps in mall where someone ask me to sign-up for change in the world.

But I do not understand why the wealthiest individuals, such as Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos, should be in charge of bringing about change in the world. When the earth is close to apocalypse, it appears that they have already reserved another planet. In conclusion, if these people do not act now, protests and activism will continue to exist as they do today. Social media is merely a tool for disseminating information; in contrast, schools are the places where everything begins, where the new generation is taught about change because it is so difficult for the older generation to effect change because everyone has their own beliefs and opinions.

Okay done I rent about activism

Cheers, Hanisha

#MDA2009 #Week7

[truthofherdreams]

people can surprise you (or not)

Friday

also on ao3

Maria is the one on Nastya Watch when Anya wakes up the following day. She’s made herself at home already, sitting cross-legged at the dinner table with her laptop and graphic tablet in front of her. The strong aroma of coffee fills the room, and the last notes of a Panic! At The Disco song fade away, Paramore’s guitar riffs rising in the silence of the apartment.

“The emo playlist, really?” Anya asks as she makes her way to the kitchen so she can pour herself a cup of coffee. She adds two sugar and a drop of milk, head bobbing to the music. It reminds her of being a teenager, singing along to rock songs and dancing on her bed with Maria and Alexei, playing at who-would-be-the-more-dramatic. (Her, always her.)

“It’s still solid, stop complaining,” Maria replies, not looking away from her screen. She’s drawing a mermaid, and it’s probably part of the children’s book she’s been illustrating for weeks now.

“Am not,” Anya says as she comes back to the living room, and sit on a chair opposite Maria. She puts her feet on the chair, arms wrapped around her legs and chin on her knees. “You could have bought croissants, though.”

Maria takes one grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and throws it at her. Anya catches her with her mouth, the grape exploding on her tongue before she swallows it around a proud grin, to which her sister only replies by rolling her eyes.

“The bakery is just next door, feel free to go whenever.”

Anya pokes her tongue out at her sister, before she looks down at her phone. Emails have been piling up since yesterday and it will take her hours to go through all of them – not that she has anything else to do. She can’t remember the last time she took that many days off work, but it would be lying to say she doesn’t deserve them. She’s been working so hard the past few years; she deserves a break, even if it comes with an almost mental breakdown and an identity crisis.

She’s in the middle of sending a requested to DisneyLand – lots of kids want to be in the happiest place on earth as their Wish, after all – when Maria’s phone blasts Alexei’s personalised ringtone.

“Yeah, baby bro? …Okay, wait. I’m putting you on speaker.” She moves the phone away from her face and presses here and then on her screen, before she adds, “Okay, you can speak now.”

“Nastya, what’s Dmitry’s surname?”

She frowns, both at the question and the hurried tone. “Sudayev. Why?”

“You need to check Twitter,” is all Alexei says instead of answering. “Now.”

The sisters frown at each other above the top of the laptop screen, before Maria pushes her graphic tablet and Anya stands up to walk around the table. By the time Anya stands behind her sister, both hands on the back of the chair, Maria has opened Twitter already. It’s her profession account, the one where she posts about her work and current projects, but it’s not the most important part right now.

Because Anya’s eyes are drawn to the Worldwide Trends list on the left of the page, and they widen when she reads through it.

BuzzClick is trending, and with it Dmitry Sudayev. Worldwide.

Maria’s mouth hovers over the name, before she pauses and looks up at her little sister. Anya is aware that she’s waiting for something, for some hint of approval that she can click and discover what is going on. But she just can’t stop staring at the screen, at the name. Just a bunch of letters aligned in one specific order, and yet her heart is in her throat, beating so fast that she’s afraid her breakfast will go out the wrong way. Maria is silent, and so is Alexei, and Anya is staring and staring and staring.

She isn’t sure if she offers Maria a nod, or a jerk of the head, or just that her entire body is trembling. But at some point she moves, and Maria clicks on the link, opens the floodgates, releases the kraken. And Anya, with her heart in her throat and cotton in her ears, and her damn fucking mind playing tricks on her, Anya leans closer to the screen so she can read.

The first tweet comes from the Huffington Post, of all places. ‘How one Frenchmen called out incel-friendly online magazine,’ reads the title. Next tweet is from a feminist organisation. The one after from a politician. Then another feminist, some angry dude, a smaller newspaper, a YouTuber, random person number one, random person number two. It goes on and on, and on, until Maria scrolls back up and clicks on the HuffPost article.

“Sudayev, who had been working for ClickBuzz for the past five years, posted the article early this morning,” Maria reads out loud for the both of them. “It stayed online for three hours before it was deleted – but not before people could screencap it and share it on social media. The article soon went viral and…”

Maria stops then, goes back to Twitter, finds the screencaps. It’s four of them in a row, sentences after sentences, paragraphs after paragraphs. The style is messy, all over the place – she pictures Dmitry sitting in front of his computer and typing angrily, or going at it on his phone, before hitting the ‘Publish’ button in a spur-of-the-moment fit of rage.

That raw, unguarded flood of emotions, she felt it too.

It’s hard, to come to terms with it, with the fact that Dmitry may be going through the same heartbreak she is. A small, angry part of her wants him to suffer, to feel so sorry for his crimes that he will come crawling back to her and beg for forgiveness. But, at the end of the day, that is not who Anya is. That is not what Anya wants. She just wants… she just thinks that Dmitry messed up, and is as broken as she feels, and probably was drunk when he wrote and posted this.

She thinks that he would never have said some of those things, sober, to her face.

Maria’s phone beeps twice loudly, startling Anya out of her reflexion. It’s another call, from Olga, and Maria is fast to merge the two conversations together so they can share a big Romanov conversation.

“Did you see it?” are Tatiana’s first words.

“Yeah, looking at it right now,” Maria replies.

“How’s Malenkaya holding up?”

“You’re on speaker,” Maria says, at the same time that Anya replies, “I’m fine.” But her voice is flat and small, and her eyes are still glued to the screen, and she isn’t even convincing herself. She doesn’t feel fine. Actually, she doesn’t know how she feels at all about all of this.

The Dmitry she knows – or, well, thought she knew – never would have done that in a manipulative way. Despite what some of those tweets are claiming, he didn’t do it to throw a pity party for himself, or for Anya to feel sorry for him. If Dmitry is half the man she thought he was, he meant every word he wrote. And perhaps that is the most terrifying part.

“So what are you going to do?” Olga asks, her voice so soft and gentle that Anya’s eyes start prickling.

“Well, she can’t exactly…”

“I think that’s quite romantic and…”

“She should just call him to see if…”

“...obviously manipulating her and…”

“...if he really means it, it could…”

“...benefit of the doubt and…”

“...doesn’t deserve her anyway, she’s too…”

“...but what about second chances and….”

“HOW ABOUT YOU ALL SHUT UP!” Hands in her hair, pulling a little, she is still staring at the screen and ignoring Maria’s wide eyes, enjoying the silence that settles over the phone. Not even Olga makes a comment about her language, which says a lot. “My love life isn’t some kind of democracy where you all have a say!”

A pause. Then, Alexei, “Well, more like an oligarchy because…”

“Oh shut your damn mouth, okay!”

Alexei may shut his mouth, but Maria’s jaw is on the floor. Olga weakly protests about not talking to her brother that way, not that Anya pays her any mind. She’s just focusing on breathing properly again, deep in, low out, so as to calm down the anger building inside her. She loves her siblings, she really does, but sometimes they forget about boundaries. Which would be fine any other day, but her mind is too much of a mess already for her to take into account everyone’s opinion on the matter.

“I’ll call you all back later,” Maria hastily says, before she hangs up despite her siblings’ protests.

The silence that follows is deafening.

It’s only when Anya goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, only to struggle with opening the bottle, that she looks down at her hands. They are trembling so hard she can’t make them stop, even when she clasps them together. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against the cold metal of the fridge’s door, willing her heart to stop beating so fast, her entire body to calm down.

Maria’s hand, warm and soothing, settles on her back and runs small circles against the fabric of her shirt. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her comforting presence do the job, and Anya has to admit it is effective. After the noise and mess of her siblings, some moments of peace with the other half of the Little Pair might be exactly what she needs right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Maria asks softly.

Anya scoffs. “Is there anything to talk about? This doesn’t change anything.”

She isn’t so sure who she is trying to convince here but, as always, Maria isn’t fooled. She doesn’t say anything for a while, her lips pressed tightly, as if carefully pondering on her next words. Maria has never been the wiser of the lot, after all, especially not when it comes to relationship advices. She got her heart burnt too many times before meeting the love of her life, and yet she kept throwing herself back in the game every time. Anya has no idea how she did it.

“But he said you were the love of his life,” Maria finally says, her voice soft and careful. “That has to change some things.”

“You think I should forgive him?”

“No.” Simple. Final. “Because what he did is unforgivable, I stand with Tanya on this. But… But Nastya, you owe it to yourself to find some closure, don’t you think?”

It’s dangerous -- she is afraid of what might happen if she confronts Dmitry again, if she looks into his eyes only to find something she doesn’t want to see in them. Or does want to see. What then? Fall back into his arms, only to get burnt once more? Walk away from him anyway? She doesn’t know what she wants, what she needs, what she expects. Why does everything about all of this have to be so complicated, her mind at war with her heart?

“I don’t know…” she starts, before she pauses. Tongue darting out to lick her lips. Hand rubbing one of her eyes.

But perhaps not knowing is exactly why she needs to do that. Perhaps it will shed some light on the situation and allow her to make sense of everything that has happened since Wednesday night. And, like Maria said, it might help her get some closure, might make it easier for her to move on after this. So she sighs, and looks back at her sister.

“Yeah, okay.”

Maria smiles, soft and protective, before she takes out her phone and opens the maps app. “Let’s go to BuzzClick, then.”

[antoine-roquentin]

The first and third incarnations of the Klan—the cross-burning lynch mobs and the vigilantes who beat up and murdered civil rights workers in the 1960s—seem beyond the pale of today’s politics, at least for the moment. But the second Klan, the Klan of the 1920s, less violent but far more widespread, is a different story, and one that offers some chilling comparisons to the present day. It embodied the same racism at its core but served it up beneath a deceptively benign façade, in all-American patriotic colors.

In other ways as well, the Klan of the 1920s strongly echoes the world of Donald Trump. This Klan was a movement, but also a profit-making business. On economic issues, it took a few mildly populist stands. It was heavily supported by evangelicals. It was deeply hostile to science and trafficked in false assertions. And it was masterfully guided by a team of public relations advisers as skillful as any political consultants today.

Two new books give us a fresh look at this second period of the Klan. Linda Gordon’s The Second Coming of the KKK is the wiser and deeper; Felix Harcourt’s Ku Klux Kulture offers some useful background information but then, reflecting its origin as a Ph.D. thesis, becomes an exhaustive survey of Klansmen’s appearances, variously as heroes or villains, in the era’s novels, movies, songs, plays, musicals, and more.

The KKK’s rebirth was spurred by D.W. Griffith’s landmark 1915 film, Birth of a Nation. The most expensive and widely seen motion picture that had yet been made, it featured rampaging mobs of newly freed slaves in the post–Civil War South colluding with rapacious northern carpetbaggers. To the rescue comes the Ku Klux Klan, whose armed and mounted heroes lynch a black villain, save the honor of southern womanhood, and prevent the ominous prospect of blacks at the ballot box. “It is like teaching history with lightning,” said an admiring President Woodrow Wilson, an ardent segregationist, who saw the film in the White House. Wilson’s comment underlines a point both Gordon and Harcourt make: the Klan of this era was no fringe group, for tens of millions of nonmembers agreed with its politics.

The founder of the reincarnated Klan in 1915 was an Atlanta physician named William Joseph Simmons, who five years later fell into the hands of two skilled public relations professionals, Elizabeth Tyler and Edward Young Clarke. They convinced him that for the Klan to gain members in other parts of the country, it had to add Jews, Catholics, immigrants, and big-city elites to its list of villains. Tyler and Clarke in effect ran the KKK for the next several years, a pair of Bannons to Simmons’s Trump.

Simmons signed a contract giving the two an amazing 80 percent of dues and other revenue gleaned from new recruits. They are believed to have reaped $850,000—worth more than $11 million today—in their first fifteen months on the job. The whole enterprise was organized on a commission basis: everyone from the recruiters, or Kleagles, up through higher officers (King Kleagles, Grand Goblins, and more) kept a percentage of the initiation fee ($10, the equivalent of $122 today) and monthly dues. The movement was a highly lucrative brand.

Tyler and Clarke polished Simmons’s speaking style and set up newspaper interviews for him, gave free Klan memberships to Protestant ministers, and assured prominent placement of their blizzard of press releases by buying tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of newspaper advertising. To appear respectable, they made these purchases through two well-known ad agencies, one of which had a Jewish CEO. Simmons, however, spent much of his share of the take on horse races, prizefights, and drink. Several rivals who lusted after the KKK’s lucrative income stream maneuvered him out of office with the help of Tyler and Clarke.

A plump, diminutive Texas dentist, Hiram Evans, became the new Imperial Wizard in 1922. He, in turn, his eye on Tyler and Clarke’s 80 percent of revenues, was able to force them out because of a scandal—the two were sexually involved but each was married to someone else. Linda Gordon gives Tyler major credit for the Klan’s success: “The organization might well have grown without this driven, bold, corrupt, and precociously entrepreneurial woman, but it would likely have been smaller.” About other women in the Klan, such as one group called Ladies of the Invisible Empire, Gordon dryly notes, “Readers…must rid themselves of notions that women’s politics are always kinder, gentler, and less racist than men’s.”

Significantly, the new Wizard moved the Klan’s headquarters to Washington, D.C. Membership skyrocketed, reaching an estimated four million by 1924. The revenue remained enormous: beyond dues, there were sales of Klan insurance, knives, trinkets, and garb. Those robes and pointed hoods were made to an exacting pattern, sold at a big markup, and, until his ouster, could only be purchased from a company owned by Clarke. The temptations of this fountain of money led to further rivalries and embezzlement, compounded by the conviction of several Klan leaders for various sordid offenses, most spectacularly the Indiana Grand Dragon for the rape and murder of a young woman who worked for him—a crime that left his bite marks all over her body. All of this made the Klan largely collapse by the end of the decade—but not before it had helped win an enormous legislative victory, and not before there occurred a curious episode involving the Trump family.

Before we get to that, however, there’s another odd parallel between the Klan of the 1920s and the present day, which has to do with the sheer value of getting attention in the media. Many newspapers campaigned against the KKK, and no less than five such exposés won Pulitzer Prizes. The first was for an excoriating series of stories in the New York World in 1921 that revealed secret Klan rituals and code words, gave the names of more than two hundred officials, and listed violent crimes committed by Klansmen. The heavily promoted articles ran for three weeks, were reprinted by seventeen newspapers throughout the country, and provoked a congressional investigation. But instead of crushing the organization, the exposé did the opposite; one historian estimates that the series increased Klan membership by more than a million. Some people even tried to join by filling out the blank membership application form the World had used to illustrate one story.

Being denounced by a liberal New York newspaper, it turned out, gave the Klan just the political imprimatur it needed, and spread the news of its rebirth across the nation. Imperial Wizard Evans exulted that the exposés had provided “fifty million dollars’ worth of free advertising.” People loved the idea of joining a fraternal organization with secret rites and extravagant titles that included judges, congressmen, and other prominent citizens, and that legitimized combat against the forces that seemed to be undermining traditional American life.

What were those forces? Movements heavy on ethnic hatred and imagined conspiracies flourish when rapid changes upset the social order and people feel their income or status threatened. In the heyday of European fascism, the threat came from the enormous job losses of the Great Depression, which in Germany followed the humiliating Versailles Treaty and ruinous inflation that wiped out savings. Among many of Trump’s supporters today, the threat comes from stagnating or declining wages and the rapid automation and globalization that makes people feel their jobs are ever less secure.

We don’t normally think of the heady, expanding American economy of the 1920s as a period of threat, but Gordon offers a broader cultural and feminist analysis. “The Klan supplied a way for members to confirm manliness,” she writes, in an era when many traditional male roles were disappearing. “As more men became white-collar workers, as more small businesses lost out to chains, as the political supremacy of Anglo-Saxons became contested, as more women reached for economic and political rights,” the Klan “organized the performances of masculinity and male bonding through uniforms, parades, rituals, secrecy, and hierarchical military ranks and titles.” She quotes an admonition from one Oregon chapter: “Remember when you come to lodge that this is not an old maid’s convention.” A man who by day might be an accountant or stationery salesman or have a wife who earned more than he did could, in his Klan robes, be a Kleagle or Klaliff or Exalted Cyclops by night.

Not all Klan members were men, of course, and the Klan was not the only organization that offered ceremonial dress and fancy titles: it’s telling that the first place Klan recruiters usually sought members was among Masons. But Gordon’s is a thoughtful explanation of the Klan’s appeal in the fast-urbanizing America of the 1920s, which was leaving behind an earlier nation based, in imagined memory, on self-sufficient yeoman farmers, proud blue-collar workers, and virtuous small-town businessmen, all of them going to the same white-steepled church on Sunday. It was a world in which men did traditionally manly work and women’s place was in the kitchen and bedroom. Even city-dwellers—perhaps especially city-dwellers—could feel this nostalgia. (Although, as with many idealized pasts, the reality was less ideal: many late-nineteenth-century farmers and small businessmen went bankrupt or deep into debt, casualties of a string of recessions and declining world commodity prices.)

All these feelings, of course, came on top of centuries of racism. And that hostility was surely exacerbated during the 1920s when the Great Migration of African-Americans out of the South was well underway, making black faces visible to millions who had seldom or never seen them before....

Sometimes what doesn’t happen is revealing. If upheavals that threaten people’s jobs and status provide the classic fuel for movements like the KKK, then in the 1930s, when the Depression threw a quarter of the American labor force out of work and left hundreds of thousands living in shacks of scrap wood and tarpaper, why didn’t the Klan come back to life stronger than ever? One answer is that Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, despite its shortcomings, was a far-reaching and impassioned attempt to address the nation’s economic woes and injustices head-on, with a boldness we’ve not seen since then. It gave people hope. Another answer is that although FDR made many compromises with southern Democrats to get his programs through Congress, he was no racist. The more outspoken Eleanor Roosevelt was a fervent proponent of anti-lynching laws and of full rights for black Americans. The tone set by the White House matters; it creates moral space for others to speak and act. Perhaps it’s no surprise that these were years when the Klan lay low.