attendants of the message


170719 Joy Dance Plug In Music Academy Facebook post


“[Joy Dance Plugin Music Academy]

Jung Hoseok-gun (J-hope/member of BTS), who attended the Gwangju branch, left a message to Joy Dance Plug In Music Academy’s aspriring trainees. J-hope-gun’s message was sent to his juniors who carry the same dream and are training diligently at Joy Dance Academy, where he used to attend before.

He also supported his close friend, Mokpo branch’s deputy manager Moon Hyungman and thanked him for thinking of him.. That’s really cool, J-hope….^^
He said to bring better music to the fans, he’s working on the album until early dawn for the upcoming July and August activities in Korea!

We would like to say thanks to J-hope who left his autographs and messages as well as BTS members, we will support you in the future activities ❤”

2nd photo: “To. Our Hyungmanie-hyung~♡♡ Our Hyungmanie-hyung is the best!! Thank you for always thinking of me, Love U Bro!”

3rd photo: “To. Joy Dance Plug In Music~!! Hope you prepare with all you have and become cool singers!!”

Get well soon, Hoshi :’(

NU’EST W give out beautiful light up hearts which have cute handwritten messages/drawings as gifts for ㄴㅇㅅㅌ who attended their M countdown performance today!

(plus many more sweet messages, JR even drew onibugi again lol) 

This is honestly such a sweet thing to do, I heard 100′s of fans applied to see them live today it must have taken them so long to make all of these! This is such a NU’EST thing to do lol, they really spoil fans so much.

This is their first ever live performance in exactly ONE WHOLE YEAR so they probably appreciate all the support SO MUCH. Plus this is their live debut stage as NU’EST W!

These guys are so thoughtful we don’t even deserve them❤️

Decline - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Originally posted by itsfuckingvampire

Summary: In which Bucky betrays his best friend (Y/N) and later begs for her forgiveness.
(Request by ANON - it’s a little tweaked sorry.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: None! Yay!

Word count: 1.8K

[[ Check Out My Masterlist ]]

A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:
(Request will be attended to shortly! I have a lot, but I refuse to close my requests because I hate the feeling of rejecting a request. Please be patient!)

Keep reading


In 1980, soon after Soviet troops invaded Afghanistan, Zubair Popal fled the country with his wife, Shamim, two young sons and infant daughter.

“There was no hope for me to stay,” he recalls. “I thought about the future of my kids. And in those days when the Soviet Union went to a country and invaded that country, they never left.”

Eventually, the Popals landed in America and rebuilt their lives. Today, the family owns several successful restaurants in Washington, D.C., including the acclaimed Lapis, which serves Afghan cuisine. On a recent evening, they opened up the restaurant to host a free dinner welcoming refugees in their city.

“We came here exactly like these people – we had no place to stay,” Zubair Popal recalls. He chokes up and takes a long pause before adding, “It reminds me of the days we came … I know for these people it’s very hard, very hard.”

The dinner was part of Refugees Welcome, a campaign that encourages locals across the U.S. to host similar meals for refugees in their community — and to break barriers by breaking bread together.

“The intention is to really humanize the refugee issue and to say, let’s meet each other as neighbors. Let’s talk about ways that we’re similar rather than ways that we’re different,” says Amy Benziger, the U.S. lead for the campaign, which was launched in February and is sponsored by UNICEF, among other partners.

These Dinner Parties Serve Up A Simple Message: Refugees Welcome

Photos: Beck Harlan/NPR

not the lost princess

because somebody said “write it” when i said this.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the first man who informed her, shocked, how she had the green eyes of the royal family and hair as dark as the late queen’s. She had been joking, of course, pretending to take him seriously as she counted out his change. No one had accused her of being the princess in the first place. Princess Aliara, the last of the royal line of Adamar, had drowned in the Silver Sea ten summers ago. Everyone knew that.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told the old woman, the princess’s childhood nurse, who clutched her hands to her chest the moment she fell off her horse in the castle courtyard. She didn’t want any more confusion than there already was.

There were silver streaks in the woman’s hair and tears in her eyes. “It’s you,” she repeated, as if she hadn’t heard.

“No,” Liza explained, already impatient. “It’s not me. I’m not her.” It was what she had told the royal minister who had been fetched by the man in the shop last week at least seven times by now, but he’d insisted that the other royal ministers had to see her, had to see if she was real, and wouldn’t leave the shop.

“I’m real,” she’d said. “Really annoyed.”

The man’s eyes had filled with tears. That seemed to be happening a lot around her recently. “You sounds just like you did when you were little.”

Liza threw up her hands and told anyone who would listen that this man hadn’t known her when she was a little girl growing up in a costal town far away, but finding out she had lived in some proximity to the Silver Sea only sent everyone into more of a frenzy. In the end she agreed to come, if only because the royal minster would take care of the cost, and the capital city had a real library to visit.

“I’m not the princess, though,” she reminded all the minister’s servants when they bobbed curtsies to her. “Just to be clear.”


“I’m not the princess,” Liza told Kara, the girl who had claimed the right to interrogate her first. She was the lost princess’s best friend, or something, and she’d said she was the only one who could possibly tell if this so-called princess was an impostor.

Kara scoffed, hands on her hips and her eyes mistrustful. “Of course you’re not, kid. No one who claims to be Liara is. She’s dead.” But her voice sounded a little more uncertain with each word as she looked Liza over. “So what’s your excuse? What’s your made up story for how you’ve suddenly regained your lost memory and remembered you’re a princess, or whatever?”

Liza glanced around at all the court watching her, still bewildered as to how she was being interrogated as a possible impostor when she’d never claimed to be anyone in the first place, and finally repeated what she’d been saying all day. “My name is Liza. I’m a baker. My parents were bakers before they died. They were not the king and queen. I am not the princess. Can I go to the library now?”

The room filled with deliberating murmurs rather than answers, and Liza leaned back in her seat with a groan.


“I’ll give you credit,” Kara said, sounding as if she’d rather do anything else, “you really do look like her.”

“I’m not her,” Liza said, as if repeating it for the hundredth time would make Kara finally believe she wasn’t trying to pretend she was. As if saying it a thousand more times would make half the royal ministers stop thinking she really was.

She wasn’t allowed to go home, not until they’d come to a consensus on her princess-related status. “I’m a prisoner,” she yelled at Alder, the most annoying of the ministers.

“You’re home,” he’d responded fondly, and she’d screamed in a very un-princesslike manner and gone to find Kara, who at least wouldn’t keep asking her if she remember so-and-so-’s name, or how she had tripped on that step and sprained her ankle when she was six.

“When I was six I was frolicking happily on a beach somewhere on the southern coast,” she told Kara crankily. “Not cooped up in this castle.”

Kara laughed derisively. “Oh, honey. Liara’s ship sank near the eastern coast. You don’t even have your story straight.”

But despite Kara’s firm belief that Liza was a liar and a pretender, Liza sensed that her laughter was becoming warmer, and she directed more snide comments at the ministers than she did at Liza. Perhaps, Liza even dared to think, Kara was starting to like her.

Kara noticed that she was being stared at, and half-smiled back. “Don’t be offended. You’re almost as bad of a liar as she was, too. That’s actually a point in your favor.”

Liza rolled her eyes and tugged at Kara’s sleeve to pull her closer. “Show me the way to the library again. I get lost in the halls every time I try to go without you.”

“They say true royalty isn’t capable of being lost in the royal palace.”

“Tell that to the ministers.”


“I’m not the princess,” she said automatically, before she’d processed the boy standing in front of her. He was supposed to be the princess’s illegitimately-born cousin, or something. One way or another, he was one of those next in line for the throne if the princess did not magically turn up sometime soon (which she wouldn’t, because she was dead).

“He’d do a rotten job,” Kara had said, curling her lip, when they’d seen him march through the front hall from their little alcove in the balcony. “He can’t be king.”

“Why do you care?” Liza asked, trying to sneak a peak at Kara’s cards.

She pulled her cards away and whacked Liza’s arm lightly with them. “I’m engaged to the throne, silly. The real princess would know that.” But that last sentence was an afterthought. She’d almost entirely stopped accusing Liza of pretending, recently. “And I won’t marry Henry. He makes fun of anyone once their back is turned, and he spreads rumors about whatever he likes, and once he kicked Liara’s puppy because it was in his way.”

“That sounds like an exaggeration.”

Kara shook her head, looking almost grim. This clearly wasn’t one of her jokes. “No. Liara was so angry she threw her shoe at him. Hit him in the head, hard. He was bleeding. It was a big scandal that she would hurt her own cousin, everyone rushed to cover it up with a story about how he fell and hit his head.”

“I take it they didn’t get along?” Now she was worried. If Henry wanted to be king, what would he do to Liara? What would he do to her, if he believed she was the princess? “Is he dangerous?”

“Don’t worry, Liza. I’ll protect you.” She was kidding, her brown eyes soft, but Liza felt a little safer anyway.


“I know you’re not,” Henry sneered, and walked past her.

Kara gripped her hand, which was all that kept Liza from running after him to yell about just how many people were pretty sure she was, and how he was a rude, terrible person who would never marry Kara because she wouldn’t allow it, and how someone who kicked puppies was not fit to look at the throne, let alone sit in it, and how, also, he smelled.

He didn’t, but it would have been nice to tell him that. She almost didn’t let Kara pull her away.


“I’m not the princess,” Liza said when Alder asked yet again for another retelling of how she’d come to be a baker in a small town far from the castle. She was too tired to go through it again, too frustrated with all these dithering people too scared of having to work out the convoluted succession of a throne that had no obvious heir to accept that their princess wasn’t there to solve the problem.

She was not, however, too tired to notice Henry’s small victorious smile as he sat in the back of the room and listened. Everyone knew that the one year in which the royal throne could remain empty in the wake of the king and queen’s deaths was drawing to a close. An heir would have to be announced soon.

If it wasn’t Aliara— wasn’t Liza— it was almost certainly Henry.

After the horrible, boring meeting was over, she found Kara in the library and bunched up next to her in the window seat too small for two people. “Tell me about the princess,” she said, and Kara complied, because they were both coming to wish, like the ministers, that she was there.


One year after the queen of Adamar had passed away with her daughter’s name on her lips, the royal ministers met in the throne room. Liza had denied being the princess to the very last. There was nothing else for it but to declare the heir to the kingdom.

Henry hadn’t stopped smirking since he’d received the message asking him to attend that morning. Kara watched him with a blank face but a sick stomach, thinking how she would never sit on a throne next to his— thinking about running away, grabbing Liza’s hand and running with her back to the beach far from where the princess had died.

It wasn’t fantasy. It was a concrete plan. She had the horses waiting. She felt herself calming as Alder called everyone to attention, knowing that even if they could do nothing for Adamar once Henry was king, at least they could do this.

And then Aliara walked into the room.

No, she glided into the room. She swept in so like a ghost that half the company spooked or flinched, but she was very, very real. She had the green eyes of the royal lineage. She had dark hair braided over her shoulder the exact way the queen used to wear it. She had a smile that was almost, almost smug.

“Please,” Liza said, sweeping a curtsey and lifting her eyes to the sunlight falling through the high glass windows as if she could look any more perfectly innocent. “I must beg your forgiveness. I have been a coward to insist for so long that I could not remember my childhood here, when I have never forgotten my true self. I thought I could bear the shame of never coming forward. I even convinced myself it would be better for Adamar to have my dear cousin as king.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “I’m sorry, Henry, for pretending not to know you, and almost letting this burden fall on your shoulders. But I have seen the light in time. I am here, Alder. I am the princess.”

Henry went pale with fury, meeting her halfway across the wide floor of the throne room and catching her arm so she could not approach the throne.

“Don’t you dare,” he snarled. “We both know you’re a liar. Everyone else will soon realize to. Don’t bother trying to pull it off.”

She yanked her arm back so hard that he was almost unbalanced and fixed him with a glare that had no princess in it and all of the fire she used to pump in her huge ovens at the bakery. “Don’t cross me, cousin. Or do you need me to throw another shoe at your head?”

He faltered just long enough for her to walk past, head held high, and up to the dais. “Come here with the crown, Alder. Careful on the steps. I tripped on them when I was six, you know.”

“Y-yes, princess,” Alder said, hastily coming forward.

She raised an eyebrow, indicating with one hand that there was no one else on the dais with her. “I’m not the princess. I’m the queen.”


“I’m sorry,” she told Kara, late that night. It had been a very long day, and her head ached from the weight of the crown, and she only wanted to go to sleep, and she didn’t know if Kara was angry, and didn’t want her to be.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Kara said, stepping closer, reaching out for her hands.


“For my false accusations over the past year, of course,” she said with a straight face. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you from the beginning.”

“The princess,” the new queen said, unable to figure out full sentences as Kara pulled them closer together, gently pushing strands of her hair back.

“My princess.”

“Yes,” the baker-princess-queen sighed. “That.”

how my first boyfriend broke up with me

the summer of 2007. I’m 13. he’s my school mate, a year older. we’ve been together for a month and held hands twice. that was basically our whole relationship. I’m on vacation with my grandparents. we’re not that far away from each other, but can’t really see one another because neither of us can drive, since we’re just kids. it’s tough on us, I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t speak to him every day. I’m silly like that, like every other 13 year old.

my grandma from another town wakes me up with a phone call one morning. it’s early and I’m confused. I find out my grandpa has died. I’m crushed, we’ve literally just connected and became close, and now I lost him. my other grandma helps me pack and I get on the bus immediately, along with my other grandpa, traveling 5 hours to go visit her and eventually, attend the funeral. 

I message my boyfriend while I’m traveling. it’s really hot in the bus, it feels stuffy. I think I really wanted him to comfort me. I tell him what has happened, he replies a couple of hours later. this is how our conversation went down:

me: hey, so my grandpa just died this morning and I’m travelling to Zagreb to see grandma

him: I’m so sorry, that’s so sad

him: I think we should break up

and that was it. 


I have created this blog to help people like you, to sell and buy tickets by teaming fans together to attend concerts. Send an ask or a message of what tickets you are looking for/selling and It will be posted on here. I would love to help you guys out as much as I can! Good Luck!


BTS react to your graduation

Now after reacting to Jungkookie’s and Jin’s graduations (and since I’m about to graduate too^^), how about we imagine BTS reacting to our (future) graduations? :) I’m sorry that this turned out to be a bit shorter but a short reaction is nice from time to time too~ I really hope that I’ll be able to write a second one for this weekend but I’m not yet sure if I’ll have the time to~

All gifs belong to their rightful owners=creators (see urls right under the gifs as always :*)~ Please support each other and BTS well!

Al eonni loves all 1132 of you <333 I dedicate this to the dear @shouldntliu who always gives me such heart-warming feedback and who is about to finish school as well :***

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jin: *Seokjin will send flying kisses to you from his seat in the audience*

Originally posted by missbaptan

Sope: Hoseok will get super emotional during the graduation ceremony (”_______ has grown up so much!”) and Yoongi will have to calm him down (”There there, don’t cry~”)

Originally posted by pastelyoonseok

Rap Monster: “Ahhh, close your eyes, don’t look! We haven’t wrapped your graduation present yet~”

Originally posted by yoongishappiness

Jimin: Jimin will be terribly sad that he can’t attend your graduation due to Bangtan’s busy schedule, so he’ll send you video messages througout the whole day going all “That’s my girl/boy!” and “Who rocks that outfit? You do!” 

Originally posted by cinnachim

V: Taehyung will attend and watch you graduate in awe, going all “I’m so proud of you~~”, giving you 10 times more aegyo than he’d do anyways~

Originally posted by taecupwithsuga

Jungkook: “But nuna/hyung, don’t forget … I graduated first”

Originally posted by sehuns-bubblebum

lmao so a flight attendant messages me to tell me to not assume things about the united airlines situation about the man getting dragged off the plane. she said she didn’t want to argue, but inform me about security measures that flight attendants have to do. and i responded wondering what else there is to know and see what she thinks, then she replies explaining some things, then i reply and then she blocks me?? like ok lol thought we weren’t having an argument bye

anonymous asked:

do you have any recommendations for what a 16 y.o. antifascist in the usa can do to stand for the cause? i can drive and purchase things, but i can't vote (or do any other legal things) or attend protests but i would like to be able to make the message heard in my town. i just can't think of anything i can do besides posting flyers.

Well there are a lot of things you can still do. I’ll start by first recommending the always great Food Not Bombs. They’re in just about every state which you can find your closest location here. You help prepare and hand out food to however needs a meal. This could mean picking up ingredients or donating or helping to cook or prep or handing it out or cleaning up after. This is a great way to help those in your community, they’re almost always are using food that would have gone to in the garbage so it’s reducing food waste. ALSO, it’s (in my experience) been a great way to get to know people with similar ideals as you. 

If there’s not a Food Not Bombs near you look for similar organizations or groups that do the same work. You can volunteer at local community centers, shelters, etc. or donate to them. You might even be able to do similar work through religious centers or cultural centers and some of this can get pretty politically relevant. For examples, some churches in my state used to do water drops in the desert for people crossing the border and help once they crossed into the U.S. 

Look at events that colleges near you might be holding. You might see a range of options here. Maybe a seminar about a subject that’s open to the public or a donation drive for a specific cause or a speaker open to the public or even go see if there’s any fliers around the campus. The community college I used to live near held a lot of stuff that centered around homeless LGBT+ youth. They had a local LGBT+ organization come to campus and explain how to help and how to get involved with other offshoot organizations. I have gone to several events without attending the school and they were always free. This applies to both state and community schools. 

And as your resident Zine Mod I will always recommend getting involved in the zine scene. Make you own political zine or see if others are looking for submissions. The best way to meet like-minded people, in my opinion. And it allows you a chance express yourself and share that with people who might also want to get involved. 

Prompt:  perhaps something along the lines of Spock helping the reader with their panic attacks would be possible? Perhaps the reader and Spock are both attending a party on the Enterprise, and the reader get overwhelmed, and Spock notices, and helps? 

Word Count: 

Author’s Note:  This is for my 1250 Skip-the-Line winner, @digitalmoonhowell! I hope you like it, hon, you deserve it! ^^ (Lo and behold, I finished it tonight!)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You're way too old for SPN. SPN is for 14 year olds

Age is just a number nonnie. There is no such thing as “too old” for being a fangirl. I am since my teenage years and I’m not going to stop now. 

Also, I strongly suggest you to take a look at the crowd attending to Supernatural conventions. No matter how old you are, the message spreads in Supernatural is universal. 

Then let me remind you that Jensen Ackles is 39 years old (my age) and Jared Padalecki is 35. 

That being said, I wish you a fantastic day dear nonnie. 

xoxo Grandma #FangirlForLife #SpreadLove 

Dappled (Prologue)

Originally posted by huntertainment


EXO Fanfic: Fantasy AU (Other World Chronicles)
Main Pairing: Female Reader/OC x Oh Sehun (Shadowkind)

The Other World has been at peace for many years, the Council keeping law and order between the Kinds and Lands. Even Outsiders live threat free. But in a world so vast and varied - can peace ever truly last..?


AUTHOR NOTE: to anyone new: Hello! This series can be read alone, but it is actually from a collection of stories I have written for the same alternative universe. I would recommend reading those to fully understand everything that is going on (especially my own characters and the whole politics of the place - and especially Charred for Sehun’s backstory in this fic!). But that being said, it should be okay if you want to read it as a stand alone!

to anyone who has read the Other World series already: HEY LOVELIES! It is finally here, Sehun’s time to shine!! I know it is not that long since I finished Roots, but I am all ready to get this fic going. However, I am starting my new course very soon, this will be updated a bit slower than I normally do, I hope that’s okay. Also for anyone who has not seen/does not know - for the foreseeable future: THIS WILL BE MY LAST OTHER WORLD FIC! As lovely as I find it that you want me to write one for every member, the world building takes a lot of time and effort so I need to take a break from it! I might come back one day, but for now… please don’t expect any more! 

Okay! I’ll shut up now: hope you enjoy!!

P.S. I have tried something new, and parts of this story will not be reader perspective, but Sehun’s! Just you know, before you get confused. 


Next >

You stared out at the expanse of water below you, watching the way the sunlight was dancing softly on the waves. The breeze played a little with the opening of your silk dressing gown, but you didn’t feel the cold. The Light Islands never get cold. You sighed, moving the glass of wine a little in your hand as you leant against the wall of the large balcony. You watched how the light played in the crystal, the way the liquid seen to turn gold in the sunlight.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go?’

You looked over your shoulder and saw your father walking towards you. He smiled at you as he approached, raising an eyebrow. You considered him for a moment. Despite his old age, he still seemed full of life. His eyes twinkled beneath his now grey hair, and still the sunlight danced happily along his skin.  

‘Remind me again why I have to go to this wedding?’ you said, letting your eyes drift back to the view.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

can i get a uhhh... overly possessive alfred? ((Thank you so much))

a/n: sorry anon, this is kinda gross and doesn’t do justice to your ask LOL


Arthur was a freak, and that had to be the truth. 

- “Where are you going, Artie?”

“That get together I was telling you about, remember?”-

A freak. In the truest sense. Arthur chewed his lip, facing the door as he heard the footsteps come in behind him, a pair of warm arms wrapping around his waist, tugging him back into the embrace of a firm chest. “I’m not coming with you?”

“You weren’t invited, love.”

A soft chuckle from Alfred’s lips and Arthur found himself stiffening as the alpha buried his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck, nuzzling him, breathing soft, warm puffs of exhale into his skin, scenting him. 

And oh God, Arthur loved it. 

He liked the grip that would tighten around his arm as they passed by an alpha who’d given Arthur a passing glance. He liked finding Alfred scenting every article of clothing Arthur owned, he liked to see those blue eyes flash when Arthur mentioned having a friendly lunch with an ex. 

It was a thing not many omegas liked, no, and Arthur hadn’t thought he would like it either. The clingy type. The type to let others know just who Arthur belonged to, because no, Arthur definitely did not belong to anyone. 

Except for to Alfred, that is, because “how will they know you’re mine?” Alfred would say, and well- Perhaps the ring would give them a hint. Or the mating mark on Arthur’s neck, but Arthur chose never to question his husband on such matters.  

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How do you differentiate "this character said something I wouldn't agree with, but it makes sense" and "wow, the narrative (and the author, by extension) supports what this character is saying, this really sucks"?


Take book!Tyrion’s attitude to democracy, for example.

That was the trouble with the clans; they had an absurd notion that every man’s voice should be heard in council, so they argued about everything, endlessly. Even their women were allowed to speak.

- Tyrion VII, AGoT

Yet a major problem in the book is that Joffrey’s next in line for the throne, pointing out a big flaw in Tyrion’s preferred form of government. The anti-democratic sentiment is also explicitly linked to Tyrion’s classism and sexism in a story that deals with the damaging effects of both. So it makes sense as part of the worldbuilding, but it’s just as clear the author doesn’t agree with Tyrion.

To contrast, take the line Talisa gave us about women “wasting” their lives with balls and parties. That line exists in a context where the characters don’t spend time worrying about attendance, greeting guests properly, seating arrangements, the impression the food will make, the messages their clothing sends, the appropriateness of the music played, etc etc. On the contrary, the line exists alongside other such charmers as “most girls are stupid” and lots of sneering at “pretty dresses,” “pretty handwriting,” and “sitting inside knitting.” (Wow, did show!Arya get the short end of the stick here or what.)

In the books, if someone said that balls and parties were a waste of time we’d be able to see that this hypothetical character doesn’t understand that political arena. In the show, everything in that narrative points towards such girly occupations as partying and dancing at grand occasions being worthy of contempt. It’s all down to context.