and pushcart!

They made him kill his horse.

(long story. TL;DR at the end)

This is a story that my grandfather liked to tell. It’s kind of long, and I can’t say if it’s true, but it seems to fit the very old and cantankerous guy I knew, who never, ever let a grudge go. I mean, in the 1980s and 90s, he would sometimes go and yell at Democratic candidates for office, because Woodrow Wilson had made him fight in WW1.

The story actually starts with that, kind of. You see, Grampa immigrated to the US early enough that the first election he could vote in, he voted for Teddy Roosevelt. Wilson won, though, and then he ran for reelection under the slogan “He Kept Us Out of the War.” Which seemed like a good platform, so my grandfather voted for Wilson. Few months after that, he got us into the war, and a few months after that, my grandfather was in the trenches somewhere in France.

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49 رواية | قرائتها ستترك داخلك أثر

1. الخزي\Disgrace (جون ماكسويل كويتزي):

في رواية كويتزي المروعة هذه، يلجأ بروفيسور مكلل بالعار إلى مزرعة ابنته في مرحلة ما بعد الفصل العنصري في جنوب افريقيا. لا يجد أي أرجاء هناك، و رحلته للخلاص عنيفة و ساحقة. اقرأها لتفتح عينيك على النطاق الرمادي، الطبيعة المتحولة للشر،, لتكتسب منظورا في حياتك، و في مكان ما هناك، تجد نعمتك الخاصة.

2. عصر البراءة\شلث The Age of innocence (ايدث وارتون):

إن لم يكن لأي شيء آخر، فإن كلاسيكية وارتون الرائعة سوف تلهمك لأن تهاتف الشخص الذي كنت تنوي أن تقول له “أحبك”، في حال قلتها فعلاً، أو تلعثمت لبعض الوقت ثم أغلقت الخط، فهي في الحالتين بداية.

3. اذهب و قلها من فوق الجبال\ Go Tell It On The Mountain (جيمس بالدوين):

أصبحت رواية بالدون تعد من كلاسيكيات الأدب الأمريكي، ولأسباب جيدة؛ فهي رواية عميقة العاطفة و خصبة الكتابة عن صراع صبي لفهم الله و لفهم نفسه. اقرأها لتبدأ أو لتعيد بدء طريقك لإدراك النفس.

4. حب مهووس\ Geek Love (كاثرين دون):

سيُذَّكرك هذا الكتاب بأن غريبي الأطوار هم بشر أيضاً. في الحقيقة, سيَقترح أنهم ربما, بطريقة ما, أكثر إنسانية من البشر العاديين.

5. مسألة شخصية\ A Personal Matter (كنزابورو اوي):

رواية عميقة لسيرة شبه ذاتية عن رجل يولد ابنه بفتق في الدماغ. ينصح بها لأولئك الذين يسعون لمزيد من الأمل و التعاطف هذه السنة.

6. سخرية لا نهائية\ Infinite Jest (ديفيد فوستر والاس):

لن تقوم هذه الرواية بتحدي عقلك و روحك فقط, لكنها على الأغلب سوف تجعلك تتوقف عن مشاهدة التلفاز. و هو شيء بذات الأهمية.

7. خلاص العظام\ Salvage the Bones (جاسمين وارد):

في هذه الرواية، و بالتساوي في أجزائها الوحشية و الجميلة، تحضر لنا وارد قصة مؤثرة عن عائلة في رافد المسيسيبي قبل و بعد إعصار كاترينا. لغة كالعاصفة، و إحدى أفضل و أكثر بطلات الروايات المراهقات أصالة. اقرأها لتوسع آفاقك و لتتذكر أهمية العائلة.

8. فيرونيكا\ Veronica (ماري جيتسكيل):

يعد كل من النثر و رواية القصة لدى ماري حاداً و متقناً، و مؤثر بالقدر نفسه في إلقاء افتراضاتنا و الجدران التي نحمي بها أنفسنا بعيداً. تمتص هذه الرواية الدم من حضارتنا السطحية، و تنتزع طبقاتها. قد تشعر بأنك قُلِبت من الداخل إلى الخارج ورأساً على عقب بعد قراءتها، و لكن بغير ذلك هل ستكتسب منظوراً في الحياة؟

9. الزن و فن صيانة الدراجات النارية\ Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (روبرت):

كيف يمكننا إقصاء أيقونة تطوير الذا ت الأمريكية، اقرأهذه الرواية لتعرف معنى الجودة و تطبقه في حياتك.

10. كائن لا تحتمل خفته\ The Unbearable Lightness of Being (ميلان كونديرا):

رواية أخرى تجب قراءتها، الرواية التي غالباً، في نقطة ما أو أخرى، أذهلت الجميع. في آخر الأمر، عندما تؤمن حقاً بخفة الكينونة والوجود (أنه لا يوجد غير هذا، و كل هذا عابر)، فلربما رغبت في أن تصبح أفضل شخص بأمكانك أن تكونه.

11. العاشر من ديسمبر\ Tenth of Decembe (جورج ساوندرز):

حسناً، هذا الكتاب ليس برواية، لكن قائمة كهذه يجب أن تتضمن ساوندرز، نحن لا نملك خياراً آخر. لقد تمت الإشادة به في كل مكان كخبير في فن القصة القصيرة، لكنه أيضاً يعتبر كقائد أخلاقي للعصر الحديث- ليس النوع الخانق بل صاحب قلب ذهبي و نكتة. “كن لطيفاً”، قال ذلك لخريجي جامعة سايراكوس العام الماضي. قصصه تعطي النصيحة ذاتها، مراراً و تكراراً.

12. لوليتا\ Lolita (فلاديمير نابوكوف):

لأنها تجعلك تحب قاتلاً و متحرشاً بالأطفال- شيء كهذا في الحياة الواقعية سيتطلب قدراً من التعاطف و الشفقة كتلك التي لدى الدالاي لاما. كذلك، فإن نثريات نابوكوف جيدة إلى الحد الذي سيجعلك شخصاً أفضل بمجرد قراءتها.

13. جنس أوسط\Middlesex (جيفيري يوجندايس):

هذه الرواية تحويلية بأكثر من طريقة، تجعل دواخلك خارجك، كما تهدف. أحب عائلتك بجميع نواقصهم, تهتف. لا تخف من أساس ذاتك، تصرخ. سواءاً كانت غريبة أو جميلة كما يمكنها أن تكون.

14. الأشياء الجميلة التي تحتملها الجنة\ The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears (ديناو مينغيستو):

تَتبع رواية مينغستو هارباً من الثورة الاثيوبية و الذي يجد نفسه في واشنطون عاصمة الولايات المتحدة، يعاني خلال 17 سنة لاحقة ليجد مكانته. رواية عن النزوح و الهوية، العرق و الوطن، الحقيقة و الأمل، ستفتح عينيك و قلبك

15. سيدهارتا\ Siddharth (هيرمان هيسه):

إعادة هيسه رواية قصة سيدهارتا تعد من الكلاسيكيات. ربما لن تساعدك على أن تصبح مستنيراً هذه السنة, لكنها ستذكرك بأهمية الوعي الذاتي, باللطافة, و بالوثوق بتجاربك.

16. استخدمها كما تجدها \ Play It as It Lays (جوان ديديون):

اقرأها سنوياً لتعيد تعريف نفسك بما هو حقيقي، وذَكّر نفسك بأن تستمر في ذلك.

17. البحث عن الزمن المفقود\ Search of Lost Time ( مارسيل بروست):

دع كل شيء جانباً، عندما تقرأ هذا الكتاب فأنت تضمن أن تصبح أكثر ذكاءاً. ما رأيك في هذا كتحسين الذات في صندوق؟.

18. الأشياء تتداعى \ Things Fall Apart (شينوا اشيبي):

يوجد سبب لكون الكثيرين منا قد طلب منهم قراءة هذا الكتاب في الفترة التي كانت عقولنا تتشكل فيها أيام الدراسة. إذا استطعت إدراك الأبعاد الخفية للصدامات بين الثقافات، و بين نفسك و ثقافتك الخاصة، في سن مبكرة، فستصبح أكثر قدرة على التعامل في العالم الحديث.

19. أن تقتل طائرا بريئاً\ To Kill a Mockingbird (هاربر لي):

كل حياة يمكن تحسينها من قبل قائد أخلاقي مثل اتيكوس فينش.

20. عشيقة فيتجنشتاين\Wittgenstein’s Mistress (ديفيد ماركسون):

بالإضافة لجعلك أكثر ذكاءاً –على الأرجح-، ستجبرك رواية ماركنسون الذكية، الرائعة هذه على أن توجه السؤال لنفسك: ما الذي ستفعله إذا كنت آخر شخص على الأرض؟.

21. أنساب\ kindred (اوكتافيا بتلر)

تختطف رواية بتلر التخيلية القاتمة فتاة عادية من حياتها في عام 1976 و تلقي بها في العام 1815، حيث تكون تلقائياً، كامرأة سوداء، عبدة. بينما تتحول جيئة و ذهاباً بين العالمين، تتداعى حياتها المحمية أمام أهوال الماضي. تصلح هذه الرواية لكل من يحتاج اكتساب منظور ما.

22. السيدة دالواي\ Mrs. Dalloway (فيرجينيا وولف):

الارتفاع الحاد الغريب من التعاطف والذي يأتي من العيش ليوم واحد داخل كلاريسا دالواي لا مثيل له.

23. مساعدة ذاتية\ Self–help (لوري مور):

مجموعة قصصية أخرى أكثر جودة و ملاءمة من أن تُترك خارج القائمة. ستعلمك لوري مور كيف تعيش.

24. دليل الفتيات للصيد و القنص\ The Girls‘ Guide to Hunting and Fishing (ميليسا بانك):

مهارات خبيرة في الصيد و القنص – دون أن نغفل عن مهارات العيش و الحب مع سخرية ظريفة- بإمكانها أن تحسن حياة أي شخص.

25. برسيبوليس\ Persepolis (مرجان ساترابي):

لتكتسب منظوراً عن عالم مختلف تماماً، و لتكدس الإلهام، لتكسر القيد الذي يكبلك. و هذه القصص مصورة، الصور مفيدة للروح.

26. طيران فوق عش الوقواق\ One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (كين كيسي):

سيجعلك هذا الكتاب تعيد النظر في معنى أو حتى في مظاهر الجنون. سواء جعلك أكثر تعاطفاً مع المجانين أو أكسبك المزيد من الوعي الذاتي, لن يضرك.

27. الرجل الخفي\ Invisible Man (رالف اليسون):

ليست مجرد رواية استثنائية، ولا واحدة من اللاتي يكشفن حياة الأمريكيين الأفارقة في النصف الأول من القرن العشرين، لكنه أيضاً كتاب يشكل تحدياً للقارئ، لمواجهة نفاقه و افتراضاته الشخصية. سيجعلك شخصاً أفضل كل مرة.

28. القلب صياد وحيد\ The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (كارسون مكالرز):

رواية مكالرز مليئة بأشخاص يتواصلون مع بعضهم. اقرأها لتعيد دوزنة نفسك و لو قليلاً مع أصوات الاخرين من حولك.

29. موت في العائلة\ A Death in the Family (جيمس أجي):

رواية أجي الوحيدة, المكتوبة برقة و شاعرية، و وداعته تجاه شخصياته، دون أن نغفل عن التذكير الدائم بأن الحياة تستمر، وبإمكانها أن تهز أي شخص.

30. كتابة بديلة\ Ghostwritten (ديفيد ميتشل):

تقريباً فإن كل ما كتبه ديفيد ميتشل هو رهان جيد لتحسين الذات، كتبه جميعها مملوءة بالتعاطف و الوعي الحاد بعلل و مباهج العالم. هذا الكتاب، و لربما بقدر أكبر من كتابه الشهير “السحابة أطلس”، سيذكرك بأن الصلات الخفية الممتدة رقيقة و مشدودة بين الكثير منا.

31. زيارة أخرى لعقل العروس\ Brideshead Revisited(ايفلين واو):

يوجد شيء ما بخصوص حياة كاملة تُروى عن طريق خبير في الرسائل الانجليزية، والذي يجعلك ترغب بإعادة تقييم حياتك الخاصة. و في هذه الحالة، من المحتمل أن تفعل ذلك بانتباه أكثر للعائلة و حبك الحقيقي.

32. البحر, البحر\ The Sea, the Sea(ايريس مرداك):

جميعنا يحمل شارل أروبي بداخله، مهووس، أناني، مضخم لذاته. رواية مرداك ستساعدنا على التقليل من ذلك.

33. مذكرات هارديان\ Memoirs of Hadrian (مارغريت يورسنار):

هذه الرواية الكلاسيكية الفلسفية، و المكتوبة كرسالة إلى ماركوس أوريليس، ستجعلك تتأمل ملياً في طبيعة الحب، النفس و الروح. بالإضافة إلى كونها ذاخرة بشذرات من الحكمة، المفضلة لدي:”خطأنا الكبير هو أننا نحاول ابتزاز كل شخص بالفضائل التي لا يمتلكها، و نتجاهل غرس تلك التي يملكها”.

34. حرب عربة يد\ The Pushcart War (جين ميريل):

صحيح أنها رواية أطفال، لكن رسائلها صالحة لكل الأزمان: دافع عن نفسك، حارب الشر،, و كن طيباً مع الآخرين. أجزم أن هذا الكاتب كان يفكر بذلك طوال العشرين سنة الماضية.

35. القمر عشيقة قاسية\ The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (روبرت هينلين):

سيعلمك هذا الكتاب مبدأ (لا توجد أشياء مجانية). قاسٍ لكنه عادل، و هذا المبدأ مهم كمعلومة لما تبقى من حياتك.

36. رب الأشياء الصغيرة\ The God of Small Things (ارونداهتي روي):

بإمكاننا جميعاً أن نستخدم ما يذكرنا بالأشياء الصغيرة، و كيف يمكن للحب أن يصبح مدعوماً و ملتوياً. و تحديداً إن كان تذكيراً تنويرياً كهذا الكتاب.

37. الجريمة و العقاب\ Crime and Punishment (فيودور دوستويفسكي):

لا أحد يناخس الأخلاق و يعرض نقاط ضعفها كدوستويفسكي. أياً كان الذي تفكر به الآن، سيجعلك تعيد التفكير به مرة أخرى.

38. محبوبة\ Beloved (توني موريسون):

أحد أفضل الكتب في كل الأوقات، يجب أن تقرأه سواء كنت تحاول أن تصبح شخصاً أفضل أم لا. لكن إن كنت تحاول فعلاً، فإن هذا الكتاب سيكون مؤثراً جداً. قال موريسون عن ذكرى العبودية في أمريكا حين استلم جائزة عن كتابه: “لا يوجد نصب تذكاري و لا لوحة و لا إكليل أزهار و لا حديقة و لا جدار و لا مدخل ناطحة سحاب و لا توجد مقاعد صغيرة على الطريق، لا يوجد ما هو ملائم للذكرى، و لأن مكاناً كهذا لا يوجد – على حد علمي- وجد هذا الكتاب.” توجد الآن مقاعد جانبية على الطريق، لكن هذا الكتاب سيبقى أحد أهم الروايات التي ستقرؤها.

39. اليد اليسرى للظلام\ The Left Hand of Darkness (هورسولا لوجوين):

مناصرة لحقوق المرأة، مناصرة للبيئة، رائدة، و مقنعة إلى حد كبير، حتى لأولئك شديدي الحساسية فيما يتعلق بالخيال العلمي.

40. العالم المعروف\ The Known World (ادوارد جونز):

إحدى أفضل و أهم الروايات التاريخية التي تناولت العبودية، و تحديداً المكانة الغريبة لمالكي العبيد. “العالم المعروف” رواية حافلة بالمفاجآت،ساحقة، و ينصح بها لكل من يحاول العيش في أمريكا اليوم.

41. سيرة ذاتية للون الأحمر\ Autobiography of Red (آن كارسون):

إنها رواية شعرية، و هذا مفتاحك الأول – سوف تحصل على كل المنافع العقلية الناتجة عن قراءة الشعر دون أن تضطر إلى الإلتزام تجاهه (إن كان ذلك يسبب مشكلة لك). ثانياً: إذا كنت قد فكرت من قبل بأنك مسخ، فإن كارسون ستقنعك بعكس ذلك. وهو كل ما تحتاجه للمضي قدما.

42. شرق جنات عدن\ East of Eden ( جون شتاينبك):

مفاد هذه الرواية أن العائلة تأتي أولا.

43. الغريب\ The Stranger (ألبير كامو):

تُعِدّك الرواية بشكل أفضل قليلاً للتعامل مع “تجرد الإنسان في مواجهة اللامعقول”.

44. الرجل الذي لا خصال له\ The Man Without Qualities(روبرت موزيل):

في هذه الرواية الفلسفية المعقدة الطويلة بجنون، بطل الرواية لا يبحث عن شيء أقل من معنى الحياة. هذه الرواية مثل جرعة بروتين عظيمة لعقلك. تؤخذ بسخاء، مع الكثير من الماء.

45. المشكلة الجسدية العقلية\ The mind–body problem(ربيكا غولدستين):

لا يمكنك تجميع شتات نفسك إذا لم تفككها من البداية. إذا راودك هذا الشعور من قبل “لقد اعتدت على التفكير بنفسي على أنني مثقف. لقد افترضت أن خصائص معينة من العقل و الجسد قد كانت مترتبة على هذا الوصف و كنت قد صممت نفسي وفقاً لذلك. من الصعب أن تكتشف أنك كنت تؤسس ذاتك على فرضيات زائفة”. إن أحسست بذلك، و أردت أن تذهب إلى مكان ما حيث يمكنك الضحك على نفسك، فإن هذا الكتاب لك.

46. بقايا النهار\ he Remains of the Day (كازوو ايشيجورو):

هذا الكتاب هادئ و أنيق بحيث أنك لن تدرك أنه يتسلل إلى رأسك جاعلاً إياك شخصاً أفضل حتى تنتهي منه و تغلقه.

47. الناقوس الزجاجي\ The Bell Jar (سيلفيا بلاث):

كلما أنهيت هذا الكتاب خَطَر على بالي الشيء ذاته: الخسارة. لا يمكن ألا أربطه بسيلفيا نفسها، ولا يمكن إغلاقه بدون الإحساس بالفقد تجاه شبابها وموهبتها وحياتها. اقرأه لتفتح قلبك للإعتلال العقلي، و اقرأه لتعيد تنشيط حياتك وعقلك.

48. إعترافات قناع\ Confessions of a Mask (يوكو ميشيما):

يستطيع هذا الكتاب أن يجعلك شخصاً أفضل فقط بجعلك متفتحاً ذهنياً على الآخر الذي يختلف عنك. تمجيد ميشيما للجمال الذكوري فوق كل شيء هو، ربّما، ما لا يجب التقاطه من الكتاب، لكن قصته عن صبي مثلي ياباني يعيش خلف قناع الاستقامة سيحرك شعور أي كان لينظر في عمق المسألة.

49. حياة بعد حياة\ Life After Life (كيت اتكنسون):

سيجعلك هذا الكتاب تفكر في جميع الاحتمالات التي كان من الممكن أن تمضي بها حياتك، و لربما ألهمك لتقوم ببعض التغييرات التي ستضعك على المسار الذي تريده. عدا ذلك، فإنها ستذكرك بأننا وعلى عكس أورسولا، نملك فرصة واحدة،فلنغتنمها.

psychic: *reads my mind*
my mind: i can hear the church bells, and smell the freshly baked bread. (aaaOOH) see the storefront awnings - the neon, green wHite and red. (aaaOOH) cannolis on trraaay after traaay salamis strrung up on display! and iTALIANs are all that you see - YEAH YEAH and the sidewalk’s swiingin - YEAH YEAH and the girls are SINgiN! (shoop shoop, shoop, shoop) as they pass mmmyy stoop… AAHH… and the pushcart peddlers - they hawk their wares door to door. while the jukebox jockeys dance in the cANDy stORe (ba dada - ba bop ba dada) (ba dada - ba bop ba dada) and grandma’s callin’ a cross! while sTIRRRRIN the sunday sauce! and IN tHe middle is mE - OH OH and the streets start sigh-in’ - WOAH WOAH and the girls strut by in a group! (come on, come on) stRut right past mmyyyyy stttoooppp!!!
psychic: what the fuck

Yoongi/Jimin; playing gods au, angst.

Yoongi reacts before he even allows himself to think for a second.

Jimin’s trying to leave, squeezing through the crowd that’s gathering in  between pushcart stalls so he can get to the other side (away from Yoongi) and for fuck’s sake Jimin is fast, he really is, but thank god Yoongi is faster.

He slaps a hand around Jimin’s wrist and tugs the younger male backwards so fast he hears a few surprised gasps from people passing him by, expressions twisted in disapproval over his act of violence but he doesn’t care, Yoongi can’t bring himself to care.

He simply cups his hands over Jimin’s cheeks, feeling how cold they are before he forces Jimin to look upwards — so he can see the thick line that’s looped around the younger male’s neck, thoroughly black.

Yoongi almost punched a wall from that.

He doesn’t want to believe in it, wants to grab any other people who are now rushing past him with cautiousness to ask them to take a look for him, to tell him that his eyes are playing tricks but somewhere in this sick world’s arrangement, Yoongi’s the only one in this world who’s cursed with the ability to see the dark ring that’s squeezing around people’s necks without them knowing.

The darker it is…

“You’re dying, Jimin.”

“Well maybe I want to—” Jimin snaps in protest before shoving his hands away roughly. “I told you I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Only because you don’t want me to know.” Yoongi breathes in realization. “Jimin… for fuck’s sake.”

“Getting a little too smug there aren’t we, Yoongi? Don’t overestimate your own value.”

Yoongi’s hands are practically digging into Jimin’s shoulders as he forcefully drags the other back again, breathing harsher this time when he glares at Jimin who simply returns an equally angered look.

“Let me go—”

“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice, Jimin.”

For a second, something flashes in Jimin’s eyes. Something softer, something that almost reminds Yoongi of the mornings they woke up next to each other, and the nights they slept through together. It almost gave Yoongi a flicker of hope if not for how Jimin’s starting to pull away from his grip, trying to slip away like he did weeks ago.

“You can’t save me, Yoongi.”

“The hell do you mean I can’t? Look at all the other people we’ve saved together, Jimin.” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow when Jimin actually stops struggling, and looks so defeated suddenly it’s almost scary. “You know everyone can be saved. Look at Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok and so many other people—”

“We played gods enough, Yoongi. You and I both know nothing good will come out of messing with what life has decided.” Jimin pulls his hand away with one violent tug so he can rub at his neck gently, around the dark ring he can feel beneath his fingertips. “Now someone has to pay. I have to pay.”

Jimin casts one last look at Yoongi before zipping his jacket up, trying to adjust at the collars so the dark ring’s completely out of Yoongi’s sight but it doesn’t help, not a single bit. All Yoongi can see right now is the dark ring that’s looped around Jimin’s neck, his Jimin’s neck.

It’s not supposed to happen.

“Let me help, Jimin—”

“Every time someone escapes death another person gets chosen to be the scapegoat, Yoongi. Don’t you see the pattern?” Jimin exhales softly and gestures for Yoongi to stop chasing, almost pleadingly as he takes a step backwards. “It’s time this wicked cycle should stop.”

“Jimin.”

“Let it stop with me.”

Then Jimin’s gone, pushing himself through the crowd intentionally so Yoongi will lose sight of him, so Yoongi doesn’t have to be there and watch when death comes knocking on his door. But he doesn’t get to see how lost Yoongi seems instead, standing in the middle of the long street looking like his world just split into complete halves.

“But what if I can’t lose you?”

Yoongi says, but Jimin’s not there anymore.

Sadly, my kid’s finger is over my face in all my pics from the renfair this weekend, so here’s one of me from when i was like 20 or so.

Close up of the kiddo’s finger + my current face under the cut.

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[붐붐SERIES] UndercoverAgent!Junhui (G)

Prompt: Someone comes banging at your door in the middle of the night, someone you don’t recognise.
Word count: 2,123
Genre: Fluff, romance, pure crack rofl i was probably drunk writing this tbh
Warnings: Well, it’s Wen Junhui after all, so expect an entire Kentucky Fried Chicken shop’s worth of grease. Damn it, it’s so corny I shrunk all 10 of my fingers from all that cringing

A/N: My longest 붐붐 Series drabble thus far, but I couldn’t help it! I love the thought of Junhui as an undercover agent and since he’s one of the members without any requests/personal works on our site, I thought he deserves this much 

The next member will be JEONGHAN!

<3 wooed

See the rest of the 붐붐 (BOOM BOOM) SERIES here:

Biker!Seungcheol | Collector!Jeonghan | UndercoverAgent!Junhui | FieldAgent!Wonwoo | Hacker!Jihoon | RoboticsGenius!Minghao

Originally posted by eatmark



It is only 10PM when you sink your tired body into your warm bed. Next to you, your phone vibrates incessantly, but you ignore it, knowing its just your friends sending you photos taken from earlier today. It had been a wild night at the club for you; you and your friends had decided to go there to spend your birthday.

It had been fun, with plenty of booze and music to last you a lifetime, but as the night went by you decided to call it a day early. It had been too hard on you, watching couples on the dance floor, flirting and kissing, but while you were spending your birthday with the company of your best friends, you still feel empty without your own boyfriend. So mumbling an excuse about being on your period, you left the club early, wanting to curl up in your bed and quickly pass the night.

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Because fake Claudia is causing Lydia so much pain directly or indirectly, here is some post-6a stydia ;)


“Oh, I almost forgot, I got you something…”

Lydia whined at the loss of body contact as Stiles rolled off from where he was hovering over her. Most people got distracted by the prospect of making out. Stiles Stilinski, however, could distract himself from making out.

The boy in question was now rummaging noisily through his bedside drawer, as if he hadn’t had his tongue down her throat a few moments ago, and Lydia was still catching her breath as she rolled onto her side to watch him.

She didn’t get too much time to oogle, because Stiles was rolling back as suddenly as he had pulled away, a small, flat box in his hands. He pushed himself up to be sitting back against his pillows and Lydia followed suit, curios.

“So, uh, I kinda wanted to give this to you for a while,” Stiles began, shaking the box lightly. He paused to give himself a self-depreciating chuckle, as if they were in first grade and it was embarrassing to even be thinking of girls. He swallowed and continued, “But now I guess you could say it’s a bit of an apology… Not that I think I can get your forgiveness just with apology gifts, I swear if I ever mess up to say sorry sincerely in person and take action to fix my mistakes but, well, what I’m saying is -”

“Stiles.”

He startled a little when she said his name. Lydia supposed she was a tad too harsh in interrupting him, but she was waiting to find out what was in the box. Judging from his behaviour, he had put a lot of thought into it, which meant Lydia was likely to be overcome with emotion and kiss him. And she wanted to kiss him. Especially since he interrupted their make out session to give her this.

One of Stiles’ hand found hers, and his thumb started rubbing circles over the back of her hand as he spoke.

“So, I heard about what my mum, or well, the summoned back to life image of my mum, what she did to you, and I’m sorry that you had to meet her that way. You shouldn’t have to feel crazy for using your powers, you know? So this is in part to say I’m terribly sorry that someone who looks like -”

“Stiles you don’t have to.” She choked on a heartfelt sob as she interrupted him a second time because only Stiles Stilinski would try to apologise for an undead spirit.

“Lydia…” He pulled the hand he was holding onto his lap before releasing it to open the box. Lydia sucked in a small breath when she saw the bracelet inside. It wasn’t anything fancy - a silver chain with five small charms along its length, the kind you’d make for yourself at a fun fair stall or an indie pushcart. Stiles’ fingertips ghosted over her wrist as he put the bracelet on for her.

“It was my mum’s,” Stiles told her, bringing her hand up to his lips. “Lydia, you’re the smartest, strongest, most amazingly beautiful girl I’ve ever known, and I’m really glad to have met you. And, uh, I think my mum - my real mum - she would have been happy to meet you too.”

Lydia gave a watery smile. “Thank you,” she said softly, tugging on Stiles’ hand that was still clasping hers. He got the cue and leaned over, pressing his lips to hers.

[SCENARIO REQUEST] Boyfriend!Vernon...

Requested by: @am-az-ber

A/N: We weren’t too sure if you wanted a drabble (short story) or a scenario (point-formed plots), but we ultimately went with both because  neither of us are that familiar with Hansol, so we wanted to take this chance to explore his character better. 
-wooed

Originally posted by sneezes




FIRST DATE:

Oh my, Hansol this kid… He’d be incredibly shy, but he tries to act all cool (I’m basing this off his rap in Fronting btw), insists on paying for everything because he’s been taught from young (and from Joshua) that it’s gentlemanly.

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archiveofourown.org
The Way They Were - Chapter 13
Asidian
By Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Warnings: Spoilers

Pairings: Noctis/Prompto

Excerpt:

Prompto wakes with a nightmare swimming, half-remembered, in the back of his mind.

It’s not sharp and vivid, like they have been recently. It’s a vague sense of unease, and the flash of metal, and Ardyn’s face, entirely too close, as the pain begins.

Prompto sits there in bed for a long time, panting – waiting for his heart to slow down. Outside the curtains, the sun’s just starting to make its daily rounds, and the sounds of the city waking up drift in with the first of the morning light. Someone’s wrestling a pushcart over the uneven walkways, the creak and clack of wheels on stone, and a child shrieks laughter, wild and carefree.

The sound of it finally lets him take a full breath, and then another.

Noct’s still an unresponsive lump beside him in the sheets, and Prompto figures that’ll be true for a couple more hours, at least, considering when they finally got to sleep.

So he makes himself some coffee, and he gets his phone out, and by the time Noct’s cracking an eye open, the three-headed dragon that guards the scepter at the end of the Crystal Caverns is history, and Prompto’s halfway across the Fields of Emerald.

“Dude,” says Prompto. “Did you know you can trade earrings to the old guy in North Town for weapons? I had like a hundred of those things. Now what the hell am I gonna do with all these axes?”

Noct pulls the pillow back over his head. “How are you awake?” he groans, plaintively.

Prompto’s figured out he can sell the axes for a pretty stack of gold the next town over by the time Noct staggers away, to complete the mysterious bathroom ritual that transforms a shambling member of the undead into a cranky but mostly human Lucian king. When he emerges, he helps himself to coffee – makes a face and pokes Prompto ungently in the ribs. “Thought we talked about you leaving coffee out to die.”

“Think I remember us deciding that there’s no help for it, if it’s been sitting out twenty years before someone wakes up to drink it,” Prompto says. Then he yelps when Noct pokes him again, laughs and twists away. “Combat rounds!” he protests, when Noct smirks and does it again, but by the time he looks back at the screen, half his party’s dead.

Howl

I

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

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Move On: Lower East Side, New York. 1903. 

Filmed in New York’s Lower East Side, the scene is a street where several pushcart vendors have gathered to sell their goods. In the foreground are fruit and vegetable carts. An elevated railroad track crosses over the street in the background. As the film progresses, two policemen can be seen heading up the street toward the camera and ordering all of the vendors to move. One of the policemen approaches the camera waving his nightstick, and the cart in the foreground begins moving. The film ends with a closeup of the policeman scolding the vendor.

In certain sections of New York City large numbers of Jewish and Italian push-cart vendors congregate so closely along the sidewalks that they interfere with traffic. Policemen keep them moving. The picture shows how the frightened peddlers hurry away when a bluecoat appears. Some of the carts are piled high with fruits of all kinds, and it is interesting and amusing to see the expressions of combined fear and anxiety on the faces of the men as they hurry away; the fear of being arrested if they stand, and of losing some of their wares if the carts strike an obstruction in the street. - From a contemporary Edison film company catalog.

BTS’ Jin as your Boyfriend
  • Seokjin as your boyfriend would be a dream
  • Because first of all, you’ll never go hungry. He would be pretty creative with a box of mac and cheese and pancake batter.
  • Also, Jin loves to feed you <3
  • Gets you on his back and loves to carry you around until the both of you feel dizzy
  • The type to just pull you in at any given moment and lets you sit on his lap with his arms comfortably wrapped around you ~
  • Gets embarrassed when he wants to do something romantic, his ears would turn red as well as his cheeks.
  • He would also have giggle fits because he gets shy
  • But he does it anyway and in the end, you’re the one getting flustered
  • Let’s you play maple story and super mario, because he really really likes you!
  • During dress ups, you bet you’re going to be the Luigi to his Mario
  • Doesn’t let you go to the gym with him because Jimin likes to show off when you’re around.
  • Watches his members’ movements like a hawk whenever you’re around because they can’t be trusted.
  • “Jungkook! What are you doing? Stop that!”
  • “I’m just breathing, hyung!”
  • “Stop breathing!”
  • ^exactly like that, because he gets jealous often even though he hates to admit it.
  • He thinks that you’re the most attractive when you’re eating, because he knows that you’re being healthy as well as being energized with food~
  • Likes to stare at you all the time because you looks so enthralling when you’re concentrating in doing something~
  • But seriously, he gets all heart eyes and he would subconsciously kiss your cheek or forehead because he’s just so enamored by you.
  • Cuddles with Jin would consist of his arms wrapped all over you with his head on your shoulder~
  • Also cuddles with Jin means playing around with his hair until he falls asleep
  • Gets really cheesy sometimes and sings kdrama osts to you
  • Is flirty with you ~
  • Can we also talk about how he’s the type to let you ride on the pushcart and he just goes along with it whenever the two of you go grocery shopping? Because that is a thing.
  • Is always prepared, especially when the both of you go out. He brings medicine and water all the time.
  • If you sneeze for a bit or clear your throat for a second, Jin would whip out his healthy food and medicine, because he can’t risk it. He would be pretty disheartened if he couldn’t prevent you from being sick.
  • Jin is comfortable enough to wear his glasses around you, and even though sometimes he gets embarrassed, he knows that you like him for him
  • Well, in a certain point of your relationship you will call him Princess Jin.
  • Best way to bribe him into going out with you when he doesn’t want to would be treating him to meat, lobster and any kind of hearty food.
  • Also, when he gets ready in the morning to go to work, you could hear him try his best in rapping TOP’s part in Fantastic Baby
  • When he kisses you, his lips would linger just a bit on yours and he would have this small smile that will make you shy.
  • Can we talk about how he would talk about you like you’re the best thing ever, but also he keeps it vague because he doesn’t want other people to fall for you?
  • Dates would be fun and exciting and guaranteed to be a good time
  • Because he wants to create so many fun memories, he would always plan dates that would be really memorable~
  • He gets complimented alot because of his looks, but he’s the happiest when you compliment him about his growth as a singer and idol.
  • Gets red all the time when the members tease him about you
  • In the end he would retort with, “Yes, I’m lucky like that~”
  • Is the type to leave cute little notes and sneaks in your favorite candy or snack in your bag whenever you leave
  • Jin does this thing where he comes near you and closes his eyes and it’s his way of asking for a kiss <3
  • You can hear him mumble song lyrics in his sleep sometimes
  • Loves to bury his head on the crook of your neck~
  • Seokjin really likes to be with you and he loves being happy with you
  • You are someone he can depend on and someone he can call home to whenever he feels lost in his job.

Cool Runnings is a retelling of the story of the famous 1988 Jamaican Olympic bobsled team, who, against all odds, made it to the finals and crashed at the last second, prompting the invention of the slow clap.

There really was a Jamaican bobsled team in the 1988 Olympics … and that’s about as far as the similarities go. First of all, the members were not failed sprinters who approached a disgraced gold medalist to train them; they were recruited from the army by American businessmen, who saw the Jamaicans playing around with pushcart street races and figured hurtling them down a giant ice slide at 100 miles per hour in a metal box was a logical next step. They held open tryouts, and when that wasn’t enough, they turned to an army colonel who “donated” his helicopter pilot, apparently working off the logic that if you can drive one dangerous vehicle, you can drive any of them.

The movie shows the other teams being openly hostile toward the Jamaicans, presumably out of jealousy for their awesome uniforms, but the real team felt nothing but support from the others. As Devon Harris, one of the real bobsledders, told the Guardian, “We didn’t experience any animosity from other teams as depicted in the movie. One of the East Germans smiled at me and gave me a badge.” Yes, an East German smiled. They should have made the movie about that.

7 Movies Based on a True Story (Are Shockingly Full of Crap)

The signs as lines from Howl
  • Aries: whose intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement
  • Taurus: who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness
  • Gemini: who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy
  • Cancer: who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated
  • Leo: who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox
  • Virgo: who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism
  • Libra: who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music
  • Scorpio: who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
  • Sagittarius: who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts
  • Capricorn: who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium
  • Aquarius: who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword
  • Pisces: who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons

“We fled to the Philippines, which was under American occupation at the time. But it wasn’t long before the Japanese took over the islands. We were living in Manila, and when the Japanese occupied the city, they began to teach us to read and write Japanese. When the Americans came to retake the city, they invaded from the north, and the Japanese blew up the bridges and barricaded themselves in the southern part of the city where we lived. Shells were falling all around us, because the Japanese had stationed a gun encampment across from our house. One morning, we decided to make a run for the hospital, so that we could put ourselves under the protection of the Red Cross. Our neighbors were running in front of us, pushing their belongings on a pushcart, when they stepped on a land mine and the whole family was killed. We kept running, but when we got to the main street, there was a checkpoint and we weren’t allowed to cross. So we hid beneath a house, and soon we were discovered by Japanese soldiers. They lined us all up against the wall to be executed. We begged and begged and begged for our lives. They finally allowed my mother and the children to step aside, but they told my father to stay. My mother dropped to her knees and asked the Japanese commander to imagine it was his family. And he finally let all of us go.”