*raises white flag*

promises

*request —> komihannie said: So can I request for Yuta scenario? :) y/n n Yuta are an arrange marriage couple, but lately Yuta actually falling for her n he got jealous whe seeing her with her boy bestfri, then they fight n he confessed to her >< Thz u n I luv ur blog so much ❤

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

author’s note: 1,362 words. I was initially expecting more angst but this ended up having more softness to it. 

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May 13th 1862: Robert Smalls’s escape from slavery

On this day in 1862, Robert Smalls made his escape from slavery by stealing a Confederate ship. Smalls, the son of a house slave and, allegedly, the plantation owner’s son, was raised in the family home. As a teenager, he worked as a day labourer and sailor on the waterfront in Charleston. When the American Civil War began in 1861, Smalls was hired as a deckhand on Confederate supply ship the Planter. Smalls meticulously noted details of the ship and planned navigation routes, preparing to make his escape. In the early hours of May 13th, 1862, while the white crew slept in the city, Smalls and a small group of slaves - which included his wife and children - sailed the Planter out of Charleston. Smalls applied his knowledge from months of working on the ship to provide the correct signals at checkpoints, enabling the ship to sail to the Union blockade. The Planter raised a white flag of surrender, and was accepted by the Union ships. Smalls brought him not just recently-freed slaves, but the valuable Confederate plans and weaponry found aboard the ship. His daring escape earned him accolades from Congress, and his subsequent speaking tour made him a visible spokesperson for African-Americans fighting in the Union army; Smalls himself served as a naval captain. After the war, Smalls bought his former owner’s house in South Carolina and established a business. He entered politics after the enfranchisement of African-Americans, and served in the House of Representatives from 1874 to 1879. However, Smalls’s political career was marred by racially-motivated accusations of corruption. Robert Smalls, war hero, black activist, and Congressman, died in 1915 aged 75.

seunghoon; sweet nothings

Originally posted by kpop-kdrama-kvariety

sidenote: dancer!AU where in which Seunghoon falls for a dancer who happens to be Minho’s best friend. 

Fluff, scenario of 2k words. 


The first time he met her, she was spontaneous.

Laughing breathlessly as she chased Minho through hallways that looped around the building’s practice rooms. He stood by the far right, startled as the two of them burst into the dance room, with her cackling on the floor when Minho collapsed into his embarrassing lack of stamina.

Seunghoon had long forgotten about the track he was contemplating on while he observed the odd pair wrestling over a phone that was presumably hers. He couldn’t help but be a little entertained at how oblivious she was, pulling Minho into a playful headlock making the fellow rapper whined in defeat. For someone her size the victory was quite impressive, that, or Minho was just being careful.

She wobbled as she got to her feet, brushing the disheveled locks off her flushed face in a hurry.

“Must you be so violent?!” Minho groaned into his hands and rolled onto his back.

“You could’ve just deleted the photo, Minho!”

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anonymous asked:

You and Eternity scare the shit out of these assholes (wanker, fatboy and BG included). Both of you are smart but even more importantly you're both street smart. You've got a different eye and mindset from the rest of us and our also two of the first who called this #shamzie relationship as bullshit. These bullies know they can't intimidate either of you and you're not afraid to call them out for the lying assholes they are. I'm glad you're both here. Fuckers went too far this time.

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII 

BY PABLO NERUDA
TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,  
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:  
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,  
secretly, between the shadow and the soul
.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries  
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,  
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose  
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,  
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,  
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.


“We could summarize this poem in four words: this guy’s in love. But we’ll give you a little more, just so you know what to expect.

The speaker is addressing his lover, and begins by saying that he doesn’t love her in the way that someone would love beautiful flowers or gems. Great; so how does he love her? Well, first, he loves her in secret. Scandalous! He also loves her as if she were a flower that wasn’t in bloom, which is full of beauty on the inside. And in fact, that flower (his lover) produces an aroma that he carries inside of him. A rather interesting metaphor, don’t you think?

After spending the first eight lines trying to describe his love, Neruda uses the remaining six lines to raise the white flag: he can’t explain his love, he just plain loves this girl. His love is simple and humble. The speaker ends with the image of him and his lover, intertwined, as if they were one body and one soul. He may not be able to define his love, but his attempts sure are evocative.” -Shmoop.com


😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜😜

Soldier of Love

Summary: Roan teaches you how to use a sword.

A/N: Growing quite fond of Roan, so decided to give him a short feature. Don’t despair, more Bellamy pieces are in the works. I still love him as much as you all do, but other characters need love too. Also, let me know if you’d like to see ships and preferences included on this blog! 

Originally posted by daisy-ridlley

You were panting, your body drenched in perspiration, as you adjusted your grip on the hefty sword. You had been practicing swordsmanship for the past hour, fumbling around in bulky fur lined gear, while Roan continually made a fool out of you. The amount of times he disarmed you far exceeded the length, in minutes, of your lesson and quite frankly, it was discouraging. Roan wasn’t letting his affinity for you interfere with his teachings and he was by no means going easy on you. If you wanted to be part of the Ice Nation then you had to work for it.

“Eyes on me,” Roan said.

Your eyes locked onto him as you steadied your stance, making sure that your feet were balanced, yet poised and ready to attack.

Roan was circling around you like a lion stalking its prey. He was waiting for the precise moment to unleash the raw, wild energy he had hidden behind his menacing glare. He held out his sword with a swift flick and spoke, “The eyes can be deceiving. Look here.” He tapped the point of his blade to his chest.

You watched him closely, anticipating his next move while planning yours. You saw your opening and lunged towards him. Roan parried, effortlessly evading your strike. He impishly smacked you on the behind with the width of his blade, to which you responded with an agitated grunt. Now, he was simply teasing you and you were getting tired of it.

You turned to Roan, without giving yourself the leisure of drawing a necessary breath, and blitzed him. You hacked away at him, fueling your assault with all of your aggression and annoyance, as your swords clashed with strident clangs.

There was no shortage of blood, sweat, and tears in your labor as you toiled doggedly to get Roan off his guard. You were calculating each step and gauging each strike, yet your efforts seemed more like child’s play compared to Roan’s abilities. He seemed to know exactly what you were going to do before you did it. He was too fast, too big, and too strong. Each time he overcame you and once again, you found yourself at his mercy.

Roan knocked the sword from your hands and then kicked it across the courtyard.

“Again,” he said plainly, spinning his sword in one hand with remarkable dexterity and control. He had hardly even broken a sweat while your face was glistening in the daylight.

“Roan,” you said with an exasperated groan. “I can’t do it!”

“You can and you will.”

Feeling exhausted and defeated, you crossed your arms while shaking your head in defiance.

“Y/N, pick up the sword,” Roan ordered in a stern, husky growl.

“I’m tired.”

“You’re no longer skaikru. You’re azgeda now and azgeda warriors don’t complain.”

“I guess taking a break is out of the question then,” you huffed.

“Go ahead. Take a break,” Roan said, spreading his arms out and slightly bowing his head.

You finally allowed your fatigue to catch up with your body as you let your posture sag. Just as you thought you were in the clear, Roan grabbed you from behind and held his sword to your throat.

“Seriously?” you grumbled. You knew that your training wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but Roan’s methods were a tad excessive. He was literally breathing down your neck, not giving you a moment’s relief until he was satisfied with your progress.

“The moment you get tired is the moment that you submit to defeat,” Roan said, tightening his grip on you. “You can rest once you’ve won the battle or you can rest in pieces. Your choice.”

He freed you from his grasp, leaving you with two options: try again or raise the white flag and essentially be deemed a quitter. Your body was telling you to give up, but your determination wouldn’t allow you to back down. 

You took a deep breath to steady your growing frustration and refocused on the task at hand. You had to judge this battle from a mental standpoint because Roan was always going to beat you in terms of physicality. Perhaps, you were overestimating him. He was a highly skilled fighter, no doubt, but he wasn’t invincible and his overconfidence accounted for half of his intimidation. There was weakness in his arrogance and you could use his hubris against him.

You picked up your sword, now with more peace of mind, and returned to fighting formation. You were counting on the fact that Roan would underestimate you again, that he would use his strength more than well-rounded technique, and that he would slip up because he pegged you as an easy opponent; however, this time, you would catch him.

As you suspected, Roan was being slack about his footwork, relying strictly on his muscle, as he hammered away at you with his blade. For the first time ever, you were able to knock him off balance and disarm him. A triumphant grin spread across your face as you watched him surrender to the end of your sword.

Roan met your gaze with a look of pride as you removed your blade from his throat. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you into a close embrace. You closed your eyes as his lips nearly met yours and felt his warm breath cascade over your skin. You expected a kiss, a well-deserved reward for your victory, when you heard him mutter, “Again.”

War of Love (Lafayette x Reader) Part 10 (Final)

Words: 4749

Tags: @pearltheartist @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandomsinabookshelf

Warnings: violence, cursing, unwanted advances, ?

A/N: GUYS THIS IS THE LAST ONE! I’ve been working on this for about two weeks (yea i know) and its finally here! ive had a lot of fun writing this and im sad that its over. Well, that’s all i have to say. enjoy!

Previous Chapter // Extra Scenes


“You, what?” Lafayette said. You smiled, looking down at the ground. He lifted your chin, making your eyes focus on him. He moved closer, leaving less than a foot between you two. “Please say that again, Y/N. I want to make sure what I heard is true.” You blushed at the proximity.

“I love you, Gilbert. I have for a while now.” He laughed, letting go of your face. You watched him jump in glee, and you were surprised at how relaxed he was. He was always straight and proper around you, it was nice to see him loosen up. Once he was done doing whatever he was doing, he turned back to you.

“I love you, Y/N. I am sure of it now,” He walked back to you, closing the distance again. Your heart couldn’t take all the stress that you placed in its care, and when he said that to you, it finally relaxed, letting out a deep breath. You were leaning on a tree, and Lafayette had his hands on either side of you.

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Lack of sleep and energy. Lack of faith and humanity. Lack of trust and hope for a better tomorrow. I am slowly killing any life that’s left in me. I’m living in a place where no one can find me, a place where walls are built high and darkness lives in me. When light seems to shine in, I destroy it, I stomp on the flowers that are being planted, and then I ask myself why it is love, that I cannot find. I beg you, I beg that if you love me you understand that I am broken. I will not be fixed, in a day, a month, or even a year. I am a clay pot that has been dropped one too many times. I am spinning, spinning, spinning, just trying to get back to the way I once was. There is a lack of confidence, a lack of many things. But I promise you that there is no lack of love in us. I love you, I swear, I really do. I am just a broken person, trying to find trust in allowing the light in. I beg you, I beg that if you love me, I beg for your patience in rebuilding us. But if you walk out the door, and raise your white flag, I will not blame you a little; I will not blame you at all because love is a living contradiction: we will have bad days and we will have good days, but if the bad days are days you cannot have, then I promise you, that I have loved you all of my bad and good days. I will not blame you a little, I will not blame you at all. If a white flag is raised high up in the sky, I promise you that I am a broken person, but a broken person who understood that bad days were days not meant for us.
—  I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine.
Bedroom Window

Prompt: Hey I love you’re writing!!! I was thinking you could write a story where Clarke and Lexa are in high school and live next door to each other and one night Lexa accidentally sees Clarke changing through her bedroom windows! Thanks!!!!!

The summer had gone rogue, running roughshod over June and July, and strangling the whole of mid-Atlantic in the chokehold of a terrible and relentless humidity.  By August, those who had waited patiently for the season to raise the white flag of surrender found their hopes dashed, as the temperatures climbed even higher, and the brutal heat wave gave every indication that it intended to poke its ass into September.  In Martin’s Addition, Md., the thick, heavy heat sent most people scrambling off to air conditioned rooms, and dark, cold basements, desperate to find relief from the weather.  However, as a new school year loomed sullen and ominous on the horizon, the village’s younger residents clung desperately to the last vestiges of their liberty, braving the stifling heat to squeeze the final precious ounces of freedom from their summer.  All of them, save one.”

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My eyes on You and only You
So lost in You ain’t got a clue now
I’d rather be found in You
Letting go of the world thinks of me

I surrender, surrender
White flag raised above my head
Hands held high
Stand in awe, stand in reverence
Even if it means You’re the only one
Who understands me

Your reality is perfect
If I would lose it all You’re worth it
Ain’t nothing I could do to deserve You
So I’m laying my crowns down
Laying my crowns down

2

The Fake Battle of Manila

 The Battle of Manila is a forgotten part of history and rarely mentioned as part of the Spanish American War. On May 1st, 1898 the US Pacific Fleet under the command of Admiral Dewey trashed the Spanish Far East Fleet in Manila Bay.  The US Fleet blockaded Manila, preparing for a long siege and waiting for US ground forces to arrive. In July, around 40,000 US soldiers and Marines arrived, around 11,000 of which were devoted to capturing Manila itself.

The Spanish dug in with 13,000 troops of their own, but it was clear that they could not hold out.  Along with the American soldiers were 30,000 Filipino fighters of the Philippine Revolutionary Army. Spanish general Fermin Jaudenes saw the writing on the wall. Surrender was an inevitability, but the last thing he wanted to do was surrender to his former Filipino subjects.  Thus, he secretly began negotiations with Admiral Dewey to not only negotiate a surrender, but to stage a mock battle so that the Spanish could save face while the Americans could take all the glory.

Without informing their Filipino allies of the faux assault, the Americans began the battle on August 13th.  Although a peace accord had been signed the day before, neither side had yet received news that the war was over.  The Americans began by shelling Spanish forts, the gunners taking care to only hit abandoned buildings. Then US troops advanced, firing above the heads of the Spanish while the Spanish did likewise. For the most part the mock battle went off without a hitch. The shooting stopped when the Spanish raised the white flag of surrender, and US troops quickly occupied Manila before the Philippine Army could enter the city.  Only two thing went wrong. First, the gunners of one of the American ships had not been informed that the battle was staged, purposely shelling Spanish fortifications. Second, a group of Filipino fighters joined the battle thinking it was a genuine battle, causing a real firefight with Spanish troops leading to the death of 49 Spaniards, 1 American, and an unknown number of Filipino fighters.

After the Spanish American War, the Americans would claim possession of the country.  Enraged at the American’s unwillingness to grant them independence, the Filipinos rebelled.  What resulted was a long and bloody war which lasted decades.  Americans responded brutally, committing many atrocities, leading to the death of thousands.

What He Means To Me - Draco Malfoy Imagine

Prompt: You, an actual ray of sunshine, help Draco, the grumpy jerk who is also your best friend, ask out the person he likes

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters

(Y/N) stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, surveying the room in search of Draco. She spotted him in his usual table, his shoulders slumped and his chin in his hand as he watched the Gryffindor table in front of him. She rolled her eyes and waddled over to him.

“Draco!” (Y/N) made her way to where he sat, ignoring the jeers that were aimed at her. She stood next to him and opened her robe, releasing a handful on snacks on the table. “I raided the snack pantry in the kitchen.”

Draco’s sullen look was suddenly replaced by a cheerful one. If anyone could make Draco genuinely laugh or smile, it was (Y/N).

He sat up, turning his body slightly to face where she was about to sit. “When aren’t you in the kitchen? You practically live in there,” He chuckled. She scrunched her nose, mocking him in a playful way.

(Y/N) could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. She wanted to turn around to see who it was that held such a intense hate for her that it was almost tangible, but she was never good at confrontation. She wasn’t even sure she had a mean bone in her body.

“Why do you always bring this Hufflepuff to our table, Draco?”

She relaxed her shoulders, and rolled her eyes. Of course it was her, no one else at the Slytherin table treated her with such hostility.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, “Piss off, Pansy.” (Y/N) could hear her suck in her breath in surprise at Draco’s comment. His face was stuck in a grimace, dead-eyeing Pansy and the rest of her crew.

(Y/N) shook her head, placed her elbow on the table, and wafted her hand, dismissing Pansy and anyone else who tried to direct their word toward her and Draco. “Forget her.”

She gently rested her chin on the edge of her palm, stuffing her face with one of the cookies she had taken from the kitchen. “So tell me,” she said with a full mouth, “have you asked him yet?” (Y/N) looked up at Draco, a huge, smug smile plastered across her face.

Draco’s face turned a deep crimson, blushing at the mention of Harry. “No,” He groaned, letting his head fall on the table into his folded arms. “What if he says no? I mean a Gryffindor and a Slytherin? Highly unlikely.” His voice was muffled slightly, but (Y/N) could still hear him about to raise his white flag in the air.

“Oh please,” She took a swig of water from the cup in front her, washing down the cookie. “I’m a bloody Hufflepuff. We are polar opposites, but that doesn’t stop us from being best friends,” She sang, pulling his arm from under him. “Here,” She handed him a piece of bread as soon his popped his head up. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Draco nibbled at the bread, shaking his head. “(Y/N/N), food is not the answer to everything.”

Her eyes widened as her hand froze midair, about to stuff another cookie in her face. “Lies!” They stared at each other for a second, then burst into a roaring laughter.

(Y/N) continued eating her stolen snacks as she listened to Draco ramble on and on about how perfect the Gryffindor boy was. Not even she could make Draco’s eyes light up as bright as they did when he talked about Harry, and if somehow she found enough courage to do it, she would kill to keep him happy.

The golden trio stood up from their seats, gathering their things as they prepared to leave. (Y/N) gasped excitedly, “Now’s your chance.” She stood up quickly, tucking a few sweets into her robe, and tugged on Draco’s arm, “Let’s go.”

“No, he’s gonna say no.” Draco stood up, following behind lazily.

(Y/N) huffed, turned around, and pointed a menacing finger at Draco. “I have stood by for the last few years, watching you fawn over him. I am tired of watching you put other people’s happiness before yours. Even if he says no, you are asking him today! Today, Draco!” She hadn’t realized that she was practically yelling.

He pushed her hand down, and looked over at a couple of Gryffindors who sat a few feet from where they stood. “This is why you shouldn’t make a Hufflepuff mad,” He chuckled, pushing (Y/N) out of the room as they followed behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Draco and (Y/N) strayed behind, hiding behind the wall as the trio turned the corner. “Well, I’m headed to the library to study,” they heard Hermione say. They watched as she disappeared past the corner, leaving Ron and Harry behind.

“Okay, here’s the plan: I’ll distract Ron, and you’ll go and talk to Harry.”

“Mm…” Draco hesitated for a second, but ultimately agreed.

(Y/N) walked over to the boys, her face beaming with excitement. “Hey guys!” She grabbed Ron’s hand, turning toward Harry, “Do you mind if I borrow Ron for a second?”

Harry shrugged, “Go ahead.”

“Great.” She pulled Ron back to where she stood before, pushing Draco out into the hall toward Harry.

“What’s Draco doing?” Ron asked, fixing his robes.

“What do you think?” She offered him one of her snacks. “We’re about to watch the most overdue love scene in the history of the world unfold in front of our very eyes.” Ron took a cookie, his face showing how nervous he was.

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Shut up,” She stuffed the cookie that Ron held in his hands into his mouth, and poked her head out past the corner, Ron following suit. They both ate nervously, watching the awkward conversation between the two boys.

Draco looked over at (Y/N), hoping she would save him from drowning. She motioned with her hand for him to hurry up. Ask him NOW, she mouthed.

“So Potter… Do you… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Ron and (Y/N) sucked in their breath, their bodies tense as they waited for Harry to answer.

“I would love to.”

(Y/N) stood up straight, throwing her hands in the air in a victorious manner. “Yes!” She yelled, turning around and throwing her arms around Ron. “Fucking finally.” She jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement. At first, Ron wasn’t sure what to do, but then he hugged her back, laughing.

“I guess what they say is true.”

“What’s that?” (Y/N) let him go, her smile unwavered by Ron’s comment.

“Your happiness is bloody contagious.” Ron said, grabbing the back of his neck as he blushed. “(Y/N)… would you want to go to Madam Puddifoot’s with me?”

Her eyes lit up, and as she opened her mouth to answer him, she was interrupted by two house-elves running down the hall.

“(Y/N)!” She leaned over, looking past Ron. “We told you to stop stealing from the pantry!”

“Oh crap,” (Y/N) grabbed Ron’s hand, running in the opposite direction of the house-elves. “Let’s lose ‘em, and I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.” She looked back at Ron, who wore a scared look, but as soon as he met her eyes, he smiled.

“Congratulations!” They yelled, running past Draco and Harry, laughing so hard that she was sure it would sting later.

awesometurtletails  asked:

I'm raising the white flag with your parties. Apparently Stretch takes away my shame cause now I can't even look at my own lollipops anymore.... [The turtle has hidden in her shame closet]

I saw what you did to his sucker, and damn, I approve.  Turtle-kohai, you’re going down the proper sinning path.  I’m proud of you for embracing it.  xD  

anonymous asked:

If the Nordics had a GIANT snowball war, what would the outcome be?

This would be amazing!!! O_o


The Die Hard: Finland
Finny would be pretty vicious. Let’s face it the cold doesn’t effect him much and he had dealt with much worse in the  past. That plus let us not foget he is a sniper, I mean the guy is awesome with his aim and the whole 9 yards. Don’t mess with the Fin. He may bake and be warm and fuzzy, but he can destroy you…

The Stubborn Ones: Sweden and Denmark.
These two are so stubborn, that they would not give up. They would take hit after hit and the hits would actually make them more determined to try harder and become more resistant. Of these two Sweden would take the cake. Den is stubborn, but he would raise his white flag after a while. Unless it is serious and life or death the Dane knows then to throw in the towel.

The Logical Fighter: Norway
He would be very good at planning and figuring out when and where to strike. He would be great to be on anyone’s team. He is organized and thinks his plans of attack out pretty well. Though he would not be in the last of the battle, as he would like Den know when to call it quits. It does not mean that he would not be on his A game though.

No Plans, No Rules, Just destroy: Iceland
He would find it pointless at first, but once a few snowballs got thrown his way, he’d get annoyed and begin to wail on everyone. He’d be the first out, due to his lack of strategic planning, but man he’d do some pretty good throwing and damage. He’d really surprise everyone and would easily be a great addition if they did a team fight one day.

And the final results…

First out: Iceland.
Second Out: Denmark
Third Out: Norway
Fourth Out: Sweden
Victor: Finland
Fin winning only by a little as Sve would be hot on his heels.

Headcanons for Modern Day AU George William Frederick (King George iii):


• George was born into a wealthy family from London, England. He’s a descendent of British royalty (or so he says…he could be making that shit up) and he brags about it all the time.


• ‘King’ George moved to New York to go to college. (Mostly because he wasn’t intelligent enough to attend Britain’s finest schools no matter how much his parents could pay.)


• He’s not that good at sports and he’s not smart enough to choose a major. But the only sport he knows how to play is polo, so that’s pretty much all he does.


• His absolute goal was to make new friends and he tried to get close with Hamilton’s group. That didn’t work out. The boys hated him right on sight and it got worse once George began kissing up to teachers trying to outsmart them. Mostly with Alex, it became a non-stop battle for dominance and power. When Alexander figured out what he did to win Washington’s affection, it became an all out war. And after a while, George became the laughingstock of the whole college.


• He cries alone in his dorm every night.


• George looks and acts exactly like Draco Malfoy. He has straw-like blonde hair, he always wears red to show his pride, and he wears the tightest fucking pants ever. Like he’s the cringiest human you will ever meet, and you can’t help but just laugh at him.


• But, nonetheless it is sad because he gets cyber bullied on every form of social media and everyone bullies him in real life as well. He constantly is thrown into garbage cans, beat-up, and harassed in general. You’d think that young adults would be a little bit more mature, but that’s just not the case.


• Eventually, after all of the harassment he raised his white flag up high and surrendered. He moved back to England where he belongs.


• To sum it all up, George is a British rich asshole who can’t seem to make friends and is hated by everyone.

anonymous asked:

drabble prompt: cuddles! c;

ooooOOOOOOh i like your thinking anon!

notes: it’s longer than my usual drabbles oops. couldn’t resist. <3 also: forgot a read more oops.

summary: it’s past bedtime, and he’s beyond her wildest dreams.


It’s way past her usual bedtime, but she doesn’t mind in the least. The air is just a little chilly, because it’s December, and snow is in the forecast, starting some time around midnight. This is her favorite time of year. The air is crisp and the night sky is cloudy, and it’s as beautiful as the holiday lights decorating all of Paris. Her cheeks are just a little flushed, and she blames the cold entirely.

Well, almost entirely. The kitty cat beside her does tend to make her go a little red. Only a little, though.

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Monsta X’s All In Theory (Complete)

Hey everyone!

I know I posted a theory for All In earlier, but I was overexcited, I’d just watched the music video, and it was quite late at night where I’m at, so that theory left out a lot of details and had a few holes in it. In light of that, I spent my afternoon and night watching and rewatching All In, dissecting the scenes, and forming a new and improved theory.

First off, a lot happens in the music video, obviously, and if I tried to explain my thoughts in chronological order according to the scenes in the music video, things would get confusing quite fast. Therefore, I’ve structured this into six parts. Part one of the theory consists of pieces of background that’re of importance. Part two talks about the significance of the blue flowers in the music video. Part three is follows the storyline of Hyungwon and Minhyuk. Part four follows the storyline of Shownu. Part five talks about Kihyun and the role he plays. Finally, part six ties in other little details of relevance.

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Cigarettes

Often people ask me “why do you smoke,”

Truthfully I don’t have an answer for them,

Except because the earth is sometimes ugly;

And can be hurtful beyond compare.

So because hurting in a good way

Is better than hurting in a bad way

I indulge in the numbness of my heart.

Inhaling the ugliness, the distaste,

Surrenderance to the things permanent.

Solemn by the end of my cigarette

I raise a white flag in honor of life;

In honor of creation and nature

As well as hot embers and destruction.

During the nicotine it’s beautiful,

Infinite and passive and holistic.

– Jacoby W.

Beenzino - No Secrets, No Lies

Originally posted by beenzin-o

You were caught by surprise when your spotted your ex boyfriend in the crowd. Your body froze for a moment and you just stood there rooted to the ground for several seconds, before you recollected yourself. You blinked and turned around hastily and started walking in the opposite direction with your head down low.

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