all shot for peace

Going to the Women’s March on Washington with Harry Imagine

Or when Harry fangirls over feminist icons and chants feminist chants…

“You sure you’re going to be alright going to this?” you fidget with the zipper of your puffy winter jacket, zipping it up and down. “It’s just they’re predicting there will be nearly half a million people there.”

Harry puts his hand on yours, stopping your fidgeting. “I’ll be fine, it’s an important day, it’s an important issue, it’s important that I’m there.”

You look up at him and smile. Sometimes you can’t believe how lucky you are to love someone like him and have him love you back just as much and sometimes more.

Harry glanced down at his watch. “C’mon then, grab your sign, I don’t want to miss anything,” he gently taps your bum as you walk away to grab your sign. The night before you both had stayed up late, sharing a bottle of cabernet and painting your sign. You were quite proud.

“Trans rights = lgbtq rights = black rights = muslim rights = immigrant’s rights = women’s rights = human rights,” the sign said. Harry had contributed by drawing on hearts and inclusive gender signs inside flowers.

You hold the sign up above your head and smile wide at Harry as you walk towards him at the door.

“Utter perfection,” Harry murmurs, pulling his phone from the back pocket of his skinny black jeans. You start to bring your arms down to get ready to go. “Nuh uh, let me get a picture of ya like that, this is history I need to preserve.”

You roll your eyes but lift the sign back up and smile.

“Got it,” Harry pushes his phone back into his pocket and zips his coat up, pulling his hoodie up and sunglasses onto his face. “Can you tell I’m Harry Styles?” he laughs.

“Not at all,” you lie, bopping him on the nose. “Let’s go then,” you say, walking out the door and waiting for Harry to follow so you can lock the door to the flat.

You take the metro to the mall, the car nearly completely packed with women in pink hats. Harry stands close behind you as you both hold tightly to the metal pole in the aisle, every once in awhile he tugs on your braids beneath your black baseball cap and chuckles, knowing how much it annoys you.

You step out of the train and are immediately overwhelmed by the size of the crowd. Then Harry grabs your hand and your anxiety lessens immediately. You both exit the station and follow the stream of people towards the museums and the crowds.

You’re a few blocks from the metro station when you hear it. “Oh my god, that’s Harry Styles, Susan, That’s Harry,” a younger girl with a bright pink hat on screeched at her friend. They immediately approach you and you feel Harry’s hand tighten around yours.

“Hey there,” he smiles down at them. “I like your sign,” he points to the ‘women of color matter’ sign in one of their hands.

They both look at him in awe. “Can we please take a picture with you and our signs?”

“Of course,” he smiles brightly, then turns to you with an apologetic look. But you’re used to it and honestly don’t mind. Harry’s fans have never been rude to you, at least in person. Twitter is a completely different beast.

You take the iPhone from the girls with a smile and step back to fit them all in the shot. Harry flips off his sunglasses and puts up a peace sign as the girls beam and hold the signs in front of them. You take four pictures and have to admit they are adorable. You hand the phone back to the girls and step back into place tucked into Harry’s side.

“Thank you so much Harry, we’re so happy you’re here!” they grin.

“It’s an important cause, women’s rights are human rights,” he smiles. The girls grin even wider and run off. “I’m going to tie my hoodie a little bit tighter,” Harry mutters to you and you giggle, it’s impossible for him to disguise himself, especially with those curls poking out of his hood.

“C’mon, the speakers are starting soon,” you skip ahead of him, catching up to the crowds before coming to a stop next to the Vice TV bus. Harry chases after you, coming up behind you and grabbing you by the waist hoisting you in the air for a brief second forcing a rather high pitched screech from your mouth.

You keep walking until the crowd comes to a standstill. You’re next to a big screen but not close enough to see the actual stage. Harry stands behind you as the crowd tightens around the two of you, his feet on either side of yours.

Throughout the speakers you hold the sign high above your head and chant along with the crowd. Every once in awhile your arms get tired and the sign falls back and hits Harry in the head, making you giggle and Harry whine.

“It’s Angela Davis,” Harry gasped suddenly as a new speaker came on screen. “Holy fuck,” you look back at him and his look of awe and can’t help but grab his cheeks and kiss him hard.

“Black lives matter,” he shouts even louder than you.

“Say his name,” he yells passionately as Janelle Monae and the mothers of the slain boys perform and say their names. You even see a tear drip down his cheek as your own eyes water.

When the speeches seem to be coming to an end and the crowd turns to march to the White House, Harry grabs your waist and mutters in your ear, “we just witnessed history, I’m so glad I experienced it with you.”

After marching to the White House and screaming at the top of your lungs you are completely exhausted. You drop your head onto Harry’s shoulder and he carries the sign as you walk towards the nearest metro station.

Once you’re back to your Airbnb, you both crash onto the couch, nearly instantly falling asleep your head tucked into his shoulder and a big smile on your face.

anonymous asked:

I agree there is a "you know I know you know" kind of situation right now at the festival. I'm very curious to see how it goes. Also I can't help to feel disgusted by King Fritz oh so wonderful plan. His peace is a total lie: Armin's parents and Erwin's father were killed by the police, Mikasa's family was persecuted, there has probably been not a single day Levi hasn't fought in the underground city, Sasha's known famine. And this doesn't even include the danger of the titans. And what cont.

           abt the rest of the world? Marley has fought at least 2 wars in Reiner’s life, probably more, excludign the one with Paradis. Great job King and Tybur Family, that’s exactly what I call peace. What’s worse is that they were incredible arrogant because they made it incredibly difficult to change things for their successors. Even if the King’s peace was the best solution (and it wasn’t) at the time, there was no guarantee things would have kept going the same way forever. Also, Willy’s story cont.             

           leaves out very important aspects, maybe because he himself doesn’t know them. At the end of the day the power of the titans remains a mystery, I wonder if we will ever know more abt Ymir and how she obtained the power in the first place.             

The definition of peace for Eldia and Marley seems to be, “We get to choose who’s being terrorized and murdered.” And as long as they’re the only ones choosing, life is happy and grand! Yay!

I’d love seeing the original Ymir, but I don’t have much faith when it comes to people providing answers for how their magical plot powers function. I like the idea that it’s just lost to myth.

Still, the more research done about Titan powers, the higher the chances of someone coming up with a way to keep it from being abused. People dropping dead every thirteen years through no fault of their own also kind of sucks, so knowing how it all works could provide the setting’s endgame a shot at a more genuine peace.

Pretty Things

Member: Jeonghan
Genre: Angst (and a lot of it)
Word Count: 856


You never wondered what was on the other side of the ocean. You lived on the shoreline, and all of your friends were intrigued by the beautiful water. You, on the other hand, feared its secrets and mysteries. Who could tell what was under that sparkling surface? Besides, Mama said to “be careful of pretty things,” and Mama was always right.

Your day had gone so poorly. From spilling coffee all over your new and pricey white top, to tripping down stone steps, you had enough. To calm your nerves and get some well-deserved peace, you decided to take a nice walk along the beach. It was time for the sun to set, so the view in front of you was absolutely sublime. It was, for lack of better words, pretty.

Finding a smooth rock, you sat down and closed your eyes, taking in the cool sea breeze. It was quiet and so very serene. A perfect evening in your opinion. The sweet melody in the background made it all the more peaceful.

Your eyes shot open and you frowned. Singing? Where was it coming from? You were alone on the beach, as far as you knew, and your phone was still in the house. Your concern began to dwindle somehow, feeling safe with the singing. Your mind focused on the voice as you closed your eyes again. It was smooth and soft, yet powerful. It made your heart swell and your mind cloud. Despite the song being in a language you couldn’t understand, you knew exactly what was being said.

“My eyes see only you.”

“I am your future.”

And so, you did. Against the backdrop of a blood red sky, you saw a rock out in the middle of the horizon. You never remembered seeing it there before, but you did not care anymore. Perched on the rock was a boy, his mouth turning into a smile aimed directly at you. You were not sure what you felt, but fear was not one of them.

“Take one step closer.”

“Reach out, so we can save one another.”

You got up from the rock and moved towards the shoreline. The boy’s words and his vocal range pulled you to the water, and you felt yourself move closer to him. You began to get deeper and deeper, and the boy was getting closer and closer. His voice, his beautiful music, was getting louder and clearer. Your mind was getting cloudier as you got closer.

Eventually, you reached the rock, and waded next to it. The boy smiled beautifully and held out a hand. You took it and climbed up the rock.

The boy was an angel, a pristine version of the heavens sent to Earth. His blonde hair was long and free, past his shoulders. His hands were soft and perfectly fit with yours. His eyes were as if the creator combined the moon, the sun, the stars, and all naturally beautiful things in one. He was absolutely perfect, almost ethereal and unnaturally so.

“Who are you?” You asked, not letting go of his hand. His voice was melodic and had a rhythm that no human should possess.

“I am Jeonghan. And you are my prey.” Confused, you tilted your head. You felt the cloud in your mind begin to fade away, and with it, Jeonghan’s unnatural perfection.

His pale skin began to shimmer, as if becoming covered in scales reflected by the moonlight. His hair began to turn a menacing black, a shade you had never seen before. Jeonghan’s smile turned into a smirk, filled with sharp teeth. His voice became ominous and dark, while you saw the ocean ripple and reveal a tail where his legs should have been. With a gasp, you looked around. The shore line was almost out of sight, just a blur of lights on the horizon. Even if you managed to escape Jeonghan, what promise could you make to yourself that you would be able to navigate this far out in such darkness?

“N-no. Your song. No,” you panted. His eyes shone a bright sea-green, full of angelic innocence. But now, you knew. Your heart began to race, and you felt your lungs tighten. Cold water began to slap at your ankles. You were sinking into the darkness, and fighting it was futile: you were paralyzed on the rock. You turned your head to face the once-beautiful Jeonghan, who was singing once more.

“You were my past.”

“There is no warmth at all.”

His song was right, there was no warmth left for you to hold on to. How could he continue to sing so beautifully while you struggled and suffocated? As the water rose to your chin, your nose, your eyes, Jeonghan smiled again. He became the beautiful creature that led you into the darkness. His form became watery as you were pulled completely below the surface. Ice began to run through your veins, your lungs filled with water. But you could still hear Jeonghan’s melodic voice as it sung you to eternal sleep.

“Didn’t Mother tell you to be careful around pretty things?”

-t

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Thoroughly Confused

Request- I was wondering if u could write a short story about George Wesley and the reader were dating and he found out that u were best friends with Draco because ur in Slytherin. Thank you! xx

__________________________________

“‘Sup, beautiful,” George greeted, adding a dramatic wink with finger guns as you passed by the Gryffindor table.

You laughed softly, giving your boyfriend a two-fingered salute as you made your way to the Slytherin table.

You plopped down in your usual seat next to your best friend Draco.

“Hey there, ugly,” he greeted jokingly.

“Whaddup, obnoxious,” you joked back, taking a muffin from his plate.

“Hey, I was gonna eat that!”

“Not anymore,” you grinned, taking a bite of the muffin.

You two wrestled for it, ending up with your hand shoving his face away as his two hands were stretched out trying to grab it.

Blaise rolled his eyes from across the table, “You guys know there’s more muffins over here, right?”

You two stopped fighting. “But you see, Blaise, if either one of us went to get another one, we would be giving up the one we were just fighting for, giving the other person the satisfaction of winning,” you explained, taking another bite of the muffin, resulting in another ‘Hey!’ from Draco.

Blaise face palmed. “For Merlin’s sake, just split the muffin and shut up, you two.”

Draco and you laughed and fist bumped at successfully annoying Blaise this early in the morning.

-timeskip-

You and boyfriend George were taking a stroll after classes outside. He had his arm around you and was talking about he and Fred’s plan to let a bunch of nifflers loose in the trophy room.

“You know Filch is gonna go mad, right?” You laughed.

“Pfft, when is he not?”

“You’re impossible,” you chuckled, elbowing his side.

“I like to think I put the 'fun’ in 'dysfunctional’,” he grinned.

“More like the 'hot’ in 'psychotic’.”

“Heck yeah, I do,” he agreed, pretending to flip his hair.

You burst out laughing, “You’re adorable.”

“I thought I was impossible?”

“That too.”

As you both continued to walk, now hand-in-hand, you spotted Draco with a couple of your fellow Slytherins.

Draco glanced sideways and spotted you as well.

He smirked at you, glancing back and forth at you, then at your intertwined hands, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and smiled back.

George, who was busy trying to avoid the group of Slytherins, did not notice this of course.

Once you two were within three feet of them, Draco broke away from the group to greet you.

“Fancy seeing you here, shorty,” Draco said to you in his usual playful voice.

George’s face went angry. Right when he was about to say something to Draco, you butted in.

“I am not short, I am simply vertically challenged,” you replied matter-of-factly.

Draco laughed, “Wow, great comeback.”

“Wow, better comeback,” you replied, laughing as well, and reached out with your free hand to ruffle his hair.

“Hey! You know I spent an hour fixing that this morning?”

“I know. There’s about an hour’s worth of hair gel in there.”

Meanwhile, George was looking back and forth at you two with an overly confused face.

“Hold up,” he said, raising up both his hands. “You two- I- When did- What is this?”

You and Draco exchanged confused looks.

“Ohhhh!” You exclaimed in realization, “Dude, did you seriously not know that Draco and I were best friends?”

He shook his head silently.

“Welp, we are. See?” You and Draco did your super secret handshake, which was a complicated mix of pinky grabs, highfives, fistbumps, etc.

George was more confused than ever.

“Anyway, gotta go, (Y/n). Treat her well, Weasley,” Draco warned, waving goodbye and turning to rejoin the group of Slytherins.

George nodded assuringly, “No worries, I will,” smiling down at you.

You turned toward George again, and kissed him on the cheek, “So, how about returning the favor and introducing me to your friends?”

“Sure, love. They probably wont be as a surprise as Malfoy, though,” he laughed.

“No problem, I think we’ve had enough surprises for today,” taking his hand in yours again.

____________________________

Yo.

Emily here :-)

Second imagine: done.

Hopefully you enjoyed :-D

There was quite the heavy amount of sass in here, which I am quite proud of to say the least.

Anyway, yours in demigodishness and all that. Peace ✌️️

Maybe One Day - Part 5

The world is a scary place right now. Sending love and hugs and peace to you all. ❤️❤️❤️ 

 A collection of one-shots of Jay Halstead as a dad. Because we all need that in our lives. Co-written with @halsteadpd

When canon gives you lemons, you make fluff…

Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 


Erin’s cell phone buzzed on her desk and she quickly grabbed for it, not wanting to distract her colleagues. But the noise still caught Jay’s attention. As she checked the message, he watched as her face fell, then shot her a questioning look. She nodded her head in the direction of the break room; they’d never needed words to communicate, even less so since they got married. Erin and Jay could read each other like a book.

Jay followed his wife into the break room, quickly closing the door behind them and glancing back through the window at the rest of the team. “What’s wrong?”

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Friday Night

A/N: From an AU prompt on Tumblr. “you caught some guy trying to drug my drink at the bar so u punched him and now we’re at my place where i’m cleaning the blood off your face and endlessly thanking you” au

Altered just a little bit(because I can’t see Levy taking a guy home the same night she meets him). 

A/N 1-12-17: SO! Tumblr did in fact eat this post when I tried to edit it a few days ago! So this is a REPOST, many of you will have already seen this, just a heads up!  Sorry for that!!


“Come on, just hang out for a lil. I don’t bite,” the glassy-eyed male slurred to her, leaning precariously on his stool.

The blunette wrinkled her nose at the stench of gin. “No, thank you, I was just leaving actually,” she feigned a polite, stiff smile at the persistent drunk on the stool next to her and crossed her legs, angling her shoulder towards him.

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I see black all around, spots floating behind my eye lids. It makes me question life, such a simple experience, seeing the floating lights, I’m high on life; it’s so peaceful here with my eyes closed to the rest of the world, shut them out, all the negativity shot to the ground. I lay in bed with a peaceful head, eyes closed to count the blue and purple spots, or am I only dreaming? If so, I wish not to stop.

Imagine trying to have a conversation with Crowley while your vibrator buzzes away under your covers

Original Imagine: Imagine trying to have a conversation with Crowley while your vibrator buzzes away under your covers, highly distracting you
Author: withthedark
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 1658
Warnings: first oneshot… please be kind.

After weeks of chasing down demons all over the country to no avail, you finally got a chance to stop home for a few days and relax. You rarely got a chance to be in your apartment, but after struggling to scrounge up money on the road to pay the rent you were damn well going to enjoy it. 
It’s the little things you missed: the view from your window,your favorite fuzzy blanket,the way coffee tastes from your own coffee maker instead of that crap diner stuff… Oh, and your vibrator. It’s not like you could take it with you when you usually have to crash with the Winchesters. God forbid Dean goes in your duffle for toothpaste and finds the giant pink monstrosity.

The sun was heading down and after watching a movie or two you thought you might treat yourself.You peeled your lazy ass off of the couch, and went to lie in your bed, making sure to snag your vibrator from the nightstand before getting comfy. You slipped off your pajama bottoms and climbed under the covers.

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I just needed this particular shot of High Disapproval Solas in my solas tag

3
Zelgadis reacting to and responding to Rezo.

April Fools on Overwatch is just a normal match except every single voice line is replaced by Torbjorn saying the same line

Just imagine all of these in Torb’s voice and accent:

“Cheers love, the cavalry’s here!”

“Ryuiji no ken wo kurei!”

“It’s hiiiiigh noooon”

“Von shot, von kill.”

“Peace be upon you.”

Even all of Bastion’s noises are replaced with Torb saying the beeps and boops.

Metal Gear is a game series where a ragtag group of legendary mercs have happy adventures and absolutely nobody dies. *Covers ears* Did you say I was wrong? SORRY, I CAN’T HEAR YOU, LALALA-LILULELOOOOHHH!

Burr: *I’m gonna play a little game. Let’s see who ends up dead. Talk first and die*

Burr: “Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.” 

Laurens: “Yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it?!” (talked)

Burr’s “To Die” List: Laurens

Burr: *I’m gonna make it a little more clear this time* You’ve got to be carefully taught. If you talk, you’re gonna get shot.

Hamilton: Burr, check what we got! (talked)

Burr’s “To Die” List: Laurens, Hamilton

Burr: *It appears they brought this upon themselves*

Another day in the life of the Infinite Twitter Accounts

So, this happen first

Sunggyu:  Namu Namu stop playing games for a moment.


And then this happen:

Woohyun: Gyu Gyu stop with the jumping game. Shaky shot such a waste.

.
.
.

And now, we all can die in peace!

SO MUCH WOOGYU>.<


cr: Woohyun and Sunggyu Twitter Accounts

Trans: InfiniteUpdates

its unfathomable and disgusting to me how many of y'all are completely ignorant to what the BLM movement actually stands for. you’d rather believe they endorse the murder of all cops than hear the bottom line that is “stop killing us”

the movement isnt about murdering all cops for the offenses of a few. but when cops appropriate a victim complex where they instead want to believe we all want them dead and would prefer to defend the unjust actions of their own rather than own up and say “that situation could have been handled better” it does nothing but endorse that that person agreed with their actions.

when some cops can blatantly mistreat a black suspect, assault and kill them on camera and not face the consequences of those actions again and again. it only says that the government supports the mistreatment of black suspects. and the movement is fighting for that fair treatment. just as you preach you cant blame “all cops” for the gross actions of a few, you can’t blame the entire BLM movement for the actions of whoever took advantage of the protest to murder those cops.

however you all have the privilege of saying “not all cops” rather than denouncing the actions of the few who’ve fucked up. but you’re “not endorsing what they did.” while if we dont immediately say “those people had nothing to do with our movement and should be punished” we’re endorsing he murder of cops and the entire BLM movement suffers for it.

that double standard is something i can not stand.

My name is Jake Kehar Gill, I am a photography student in my first year at University of Westminster. This photograph was taken as part of my street photography project. I went into central London twice to photograph a couple of protests- the first was ‘Don’t Bomb Syria’. The following week the English government decided to bomb Syria and another protest took place- 'Stop Bombing Syria’. This protest was a march from St Portland Street to Westminster. The atmosphere was incredible, it was full of passion and the public seemed more aggressive (in a good way). It was also quite overwhelming to be in a space where people were fighting for peace. 

This project was all shot on black and white film. I don’t know why but when I photograph with an analogue camera my pictures seem different. I think it’s because I spend more time looking and absorbing information. I see photography like life drawing- 90% looking and 10% taking photographs. 

I am heavily interested in fine art/fashion photography. This project has opened my mind to other types of photography. I use my current blog as a my sketch book. 

https://www.instagram.com/jakekehargill/ 

http://jakekehargillphotographicarts.tumblr.com/