bear refused

“Donald Trump is the literal opposite of Fred Rogers.”

I posted that earlier to my facebook feed, and I’ll be honest…  When I did it I was kind of hoping it would encourage my friend who studied the life of Fred Rogers extensively to chime in because I knew he would have something pertinent to say.  I was not wrong.  


“Fred Rogers had such a huge problem with both Regan (who he programmed his show against) and Bush Jr. (The latter of which is much more complicated as they had a relationship that tested Fred’s boundaries.) that I can’t say “I can’t imagine how Fred would react” I know how Fred would react based on his interactions with the lesser evils of Reagan and Bush:

1. Had he not been retired, he would have themed weeks specifically against what Trump was putting in the news cycle. When Trump mocked a disabled reporter he’d have a week on disability and inclusion, when Trump promoted sexual assault, he’d program a week on respect and physical boundaries, when he bad mouthed women he’d have strong women on for a week. Fred would have travelled to do a week on Mexico and he would have moved in an Islamic neighbor.

I know this for a fact because these are the actions he took with Regan both with his “conflict weeks” and his traveling to Russia for remotes during the Cold War.

2. Fred would have attended events Trump invited him to but he would do so on his terms. He would participate in these events as well as long as it was on his terms. Because Fred would rather speak truth into those spaces then avoid them. But Fred would not accuse, he would just bear truth, refuse to be seen as supporting an evil and exit.

This is what he did to respond to the love the Bush family had for him and his work. He even offered prayer at one of their fundraisers: but it was a challenging prayer, one insisting that those in power and privilege use that for the least of these and especially children. After delivering that prayer Fred exited the building and sat outside like a kid after soccer practice waiting for his ride, spurning the thousands of dollars a plate dinner not even gladhanding with the bushes after.

When asked why he said he had reached the limit of what he could do before becoming an accuser. He wanted to challenge but never accuse as accusation was what Fred associated with the devil.

3. Fred would accept invitations to news programs when those programs allowed him to educate parents on countering the negative things coming from the president for their children. He knew those things affected children so he wanted to spread tools on helping them reject war, violence, hatred, oppression and racism.

He did this during any presidents term if it didn’t prevent him from meeting an obligation to children (he once turned down a spot on Nightline to talk about violence and children, one of his main causes, because he had a visit to an elementary school that same morning and knew he wouldn’t be mentally present for it if he was planning for Nightline in the afternoon.)

So we need to be like Fred. Getting in between children and any normalization of Trumps ways or words. Fred would have been diligently working on how to handle Trump in the land of make believe. Just like when King Friday started building nuclear bombs with money he promised to schools. Yeah Fred wasn’t subtle.” - Rev. Kevin Ireland

Do you guys get it now? That this isn’t about Bum and never was to begin with?

Yoon Bum may be the main character but Sangwoo is the protagonist of his own story. He only wants to make Bum a part of his own life, not to incorporate himself in Bum’s.

For Sangwoo a life outside his does not exist. He is incapable of seeing or caring about anything that doesn’t concern him and he is unable to be happy from someone else being happy. Everything is connected to him and his own enjoyment. He is incapable of caring for someone else’s.

These two people aren’t in a conventional relationship, they aren’t “murder husbands”, or boyfriends, they aren’t even in love with each other.

This is the story of a twisted dependency and helplessness and I can’t bear it when people refuse to see this.

Sangwoo will never become your cute villain bad boy who is actually a teddy bear on the inside.

Do you guys get it now?

otabek headcanons

-buys whipped cream to just eat it directly out of the can
-no dairy milk, just almond
-makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich
-plays guitar and piano
-from a very musical family, his mother plays cello and piano
-when hes home, he works part time as a skating instructor for kids
-has a very old, ratty teddy bear he refuses to sleep without
-writes romantic love letters
-immaculate handwriting
-model student, except with maths and science
-loves the sea, but rarely gets to visit
-his coffee is 50% cream
-leaves fantastic tips at cafes and restaurants
-when he wears soft jumpers, he looks like everyones ideal man and gets confused when people flirt with him
-cant flirt to save his life
-has a lot of scented candles
-the worlds heaviest sleeper. needs like 6 alarms
-still misses his childhood pet goldfish
-wont hesitate to deck someone who deserves it
-gentle hands
-very frizzy bedhead
-probably stops to pet every cat and dog if he can
-his prize possession is a 500€ set of headphones he got in italy he uses when he DJs
-can fall asleep literally anywhere
-nerdy af
-reads classical lit, really likes old fashioned romantic novels
-generally an old fashioned romantic. his friends call him an old man for it
-likes to be the big spoon
-thick thighs
-fantastic ballroon dancer

"Why do you want to look like a man?"

I wear clothing from the men’s section of the clothing store. My leg hairs are longer than most of the hair in my head. I never wear any makeup, no matter if I’m going out to buy bread in the morning or if I’m going to a party. People often call me “sir”. Others hurl slurs at me, sometimes calling me a “dyke”, sometimes calling me a “faggot”, both showing their disapproval of my physical presentation. I see little kids asking their mothers, in whispers, if I am a boy or a girl. And people ask me all the time, why do I want to look like a man?

The answer is simple. I don’t.

And I do not look like a man.

I look like a woman who refuses to perform femininity.

My unshaven legs do not make me like a man, they’re MY legs, and MY hair, and I am a woman. My “boy’s” clothes are worn on my body, the body of a woman. My naked, unpainted face is the face of a woman. I am a woman, and this is not defined by a haircut or a choice of attire, or by lipstick or high heels, or boxer briefs and men’s deodorant worn over fuzzy unshaven armpits. There’s nothing manly about me.

I am a woman, not by choice, but by fact. Because “woman” is a reality imposed to me, from the day I was born and given a woman’s name, to the day I was six and I was told I couldn’t take off my shirt in a blazing hot summer day because one day I would have breasts, to last night when I walked home in a state of hyper-awareness, my house keys tightly clutched between my fingers, tracking the movements of every man in the dark streets.

I am a woman because, since before my own birth, when an ultrasonography picture informed my parents that I would be born with a vulva, I have been groomed to be a member of the woman class, the breeding stock class, the sex class, the lower class. I was taught to be accomodating and speak softly, to not bring attention to myself and to spare men’s feelings. I was taught that the boy who pulled my hair and threw his toy train at me, aiming for my head, probably did it because he liked me, and boys will be boys anyway. I learned that, if I did the same to him, I was a troublemaker. That my assertiveness is unladylike. That one day I would bear some man’s children, and this was pretty much destiny. That my worth was in my looks, more than in my brain. I am a woman because I was taught all these things, and I am a woman because people expect me to know these lessons by heart, and follow every one of them.

When people ask me why do I want to look like a man, what they’re actually asking is why am I not marking myself as a woman. They’re asking why do I fail to perform the role of femininity, to make myself pleasing and unthreatening to the eyes of the upper class, the man class. My mother once voiced her concerns to me, that my looks would make me a target for male violence, and she is right to be concerned. I am perceived as a member of the lower class who refuses to bear the marks and play the role imposed to me. I refuse to shave my legs to look like a pre-pubescent girl, innocent and vulnerable, or to wear shoes that force me to walk on the tips of my toes, slow and precariously balanced, and this makes men angry, because this is a counscious act of rebellion. This is me saying I am not theirs. I will not please them. I do not desire their approval or their attention. And men often get violent when we refuse to cater to them.

My choices of visual presentation make me a cautionary tale. I am the hairy, ugly, lesbian feminist, the one they warn other women about. “Don’t be like her”, they say, “or no man will ever want you”. But I don’t want them either, and I do not want to look like them, or be like them, or have anything to do with them. I want to be free from men and their bullshit standards. I want to strut around proudly, shamelessly unladylike, looking like a woman looks when she’s not covered in face paint and restrictive clothing, when she doesn’t care about pleasing men.

I do not look like a man, and nothing will ever make me look like one. I am pure, unadulterated woman. I choose myself over them, I choose women over them. If that makes them hate me, so be it. Because I am a woman, they would hate me no matter what I did.

How the Batfamily Copes With Nightmares

Dick: He’ll cuddle anything within his reach. A pillow, a person, a crumpled blanket, anything that he can squeeze as tightly as he can to calm himself. And if that doesn’t help, he’ll even go as far as to drive to the manor or one of his brothers’ apartments and climb into their bed for snuggles. Doing this to Jason usually results in a punch in the face, but Tim on the other hand is used to this by now and isn’t even surprised anymore to wake up and find Dick clutching him like a teddy bear.

Jason: He refuses to try going back to sleep afterwards because he knows he’ll just have the dream again, so instead he’ll get up and watch some old movies to take his mind off his fears. And if he’s currently at the manor when he has said nightmare, Alfred will get up and make him some hot chocolate and watch the movies with him, along with anyone else who happens to wake up at hearing Jason’s screams.

Tim: Most of the time his nightmares are about losing someone he loves, so seeing whomever it was he dreamed about is pretty much the only thing that calms him down afterwards. Only then can he convince himself that whatever horrific thing he saw was not real. And if that isn’t enough, then he’ll find a medial task to do that will occupy his mind for a while like cleaning his room, going over case files, or something as tedious as counting to one hundred over and over again. Anything that can keep his mind off his nightmares.

Cass: Most nights after a nightmare she’ll wander down to the Batcave and take it out on some punching bags or training dummies. Rather than talking about it or needing company, she prefers to use aggression as if attacking whatever scared her in the first place. Sometimes one of her brothers or Bruce will find her there and spar with her, not asking about her nightmare because they know fighting helps to take her mind off it.

Damian: He insists that he’s fine and nothing is wrong because that’s what he was trained to do, but deep down he’s still a child. After all he’s seen in life, sometimes his nightmares get especially bad to the point where he can’t keep up the act anymore. When this happens either Dick or Bruce will hear his screams and run to his room to wake him up and hold him for the rest of the night. Even then Damian protests and insists that he’s fine, but really he’s more thankful than they know.

VIXX: mornings with them

N:  even more cuddly and touchy than normal, and that’s saying a lot. He’s not hard to wake up, esp since he’s so used to it and sometimes he simply can’t sleep in late bc his mind won’t let him. So if you’re still sleeping at this point, he’ll take this time to run his fingers lightly over your skin and admiring your sleeping face. Fixing your hair out your face, he’d kiss you on the forehead and begin to stretch his limbs, quietly getting up to fix you both some breakfast.

Leo:  he’d curl up next to you while alseep, and it’s hard to move out of his grip in the morning…not that you’d want to. He mumbles in his sleep a lot, so you always end up asking him what be was dreaming about the night before, and he answers with the same thing every time, “you.” He’d take his time to fully wake up, not really wanting to let go of your body and start the day.

Ken:  a very light sleeper, and wakes up often during the night bc you move around and lot lmao so let this boy get his sleep while he can. While still unconscious, he’d pull you into his chest and sigh peacefully. After finally waking up, he’d smile lazily at you but pout and groan when you try to get up.“babyyyy, let’s just stay in bed all day, we have nothing important to do.”

Ravi:  he barely gets any sleep, and when he’s finally home and sleeping next you, he’s completely knocked out and isn’t going to wake up for a while. He thinks of you as his teddy bear, basically, and refuses to let you out of his arms. All he wants to do when waking up is to cuddle with you for a little while, and talk about his previous day. Sometimes he’d play music while you two talk, and you’d both end up jamming hella hard to whatever he’s playing, and that’s his favorite way to wake up.

Hongbin:  he’d try to give you your own space and not bother you while asleep, but you’d both somehow end up entangled with each other in the morning, neither of you wanting to move. He’d lazily draw his lips across your shoulders and neck, mumbling about quiet ‘good morning’ and smiling. He isn’t the type to sleep in late, and sometimes manages to get up early to make you breakfast.

Hyuk:  will pretend he’s still sleeping, and snores very loudly as you try to wake him up. It’d take a lot of jumping on his back and “wake up, you lazy dummy” for him to roll over and attack you with kisses. Wouldn’t want to move out of your comfortable bed in the morning, and takes as long as he can just talking to you about anything and everything, and stroking your hair. He’d try aegyo for you to fall asleep with him again, and you’d never admit it…but it always works.

Originally posted by ottokaji-vixx

A Breach of Trust: Chapter 17

(Act 1: Chapter 1-9 )

(Act 2: Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Chapter 15.5 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18)

(Act 3 Chapter 19+)


The end of the battle had left an emptiness, a silence beating down on Ritsu that seemed to fill his mouth and lungs with a white-noise nothing. The bleachers pressed cold, firm indents into his back. Mud lapped against his heels. Heavy raindrops spattered his face, rhythmic and dense. And Teruki’s hand gripped firmly around his own.

Ritsu did not return the pressure. His dislocated shoulder would not allow it.

Instead he sunk his left hand into the icy puddle by his side and leaned his weight against it. Shakily, he stood. He braced his back against the bleachers so that they might support him. He did not trust his own shaking, numb legs to support him, the water sloshing at his ankles, flooding his socks, sending shivers down his spine.

Gently, Ritsu tugged his limp hand free from Teruki’s grip, with only as much force as the pain would allow.

Teruki stared at his own extended hand, empty now, palm out and dripping from the rain water still pouring.

“You didn’t shake my hand,” Teruki said.

Keep reading

Back Where I Belong - Chris Evans

request: Can you do an imagine where the reader and Chris are dating and she meets him at the airport after he’s been away filming for months?

people: Chris - Reader (You) 

warnings: FluFFY 

word count: 1000+

a/n: This is a request that someone asked so long ago, I’m so sorry I neglected your request, anonymous person! Thank you for this lovely idea, though, I’ve had this tucked away for so long.


“These seats are hurting my ass. God, now I know why airport seating is so fuckin’ painful, they want you to be motivated so you haul ass to get to the plane,”

I stopped to laugh at my joke, chuckling loudly enough to awaken the elderly lady next to me who was waiting for something she was not willing to talk about.

“Would you, for the millionth time, shut up! It’s three in the morning!” Across from me was this bitchy woman around my age, most likely a lot older. She had this weird orange hair, that I knew was dyed but she still had ginger-like looks to her face. She had the whole nine yards of freckles, ginger-tinted brows, and even wore green just to brighten her orange complexion.

“No! It’s three in the morning and I’m here because I’ve got someone to pick up that I’ve been waiting for. For four months!”

The Irish-wannabe looked at me and smirked, giggling to herself like I wasn’t ten feet away from her. “Who are you picking up? Your boyfriend you ordered off some sex website?”

Jesus, when will Flight 4301 land, dammit! I don’t have time for this!

Smiling sweetly, I got up and grabbed my bag along with my third cup of Starbuck’s black coffee. “Yes, you got me Lucky Charms, I ordered a sex companion. His name is Julio and we’re gonna get married in Vegas. Good day.”

Ginger-snap wasn’t fast enough to shut her wide opened trap that had fallen when I was quick to reply to her. Walking off I went to sit at another set of empty seats, hopefully not causing controversy with whoever lands up near me.

Chrispy Creme:  I land at BOS @ 4:45 baby! Sorry it’s so early :/ I love you xxx

It was two to forty-five and no signs of his flight were announced. Deciding to let it be, I plugged in my earphones and brought up my Itunes, clicking on a much-needed song right now, one that would ease the ache of Chris’s arm not being wrapped around my waist right now. It would numb my lips that could almost feel the pressure of lips on mine.

Humming along to the beat of Alicia Key’s ‘If I Ain’t Got You’ I closed my eyes that burned with lack of sleep. I hadn’t even slept all night because I got too excited about Chris finally coming back home. So I made myself an espresso and watched musicals that would make me stay awake because I could never sit through one without getting up and dancing to the beat of the melody or singing along with the cast. I was hitting my breaking point, though, my head throbbed, and my ass still ached, my eyes were burning with tears now, from sleep-induced stress. I felt my chin waiver as I silently prayed for Chris to just get here soon, I was waiting for him, Dodger was waiting for him. Then tonight there’d be a huge surprise party for him courtesy of Lisa, Carly, Shauna, and I. My fingers roughly rubbed my sunken eyes, I cannot fall asleep! No Sleep, no sleep, no sleep-

“Flights 4305, 4308, and 4301 have arrived. The gates are open for you to pick up your guest, thank you for choosing Boston’s Logan Airport. Have a nice day!” With that I grabbed my bag and abandoned my coffee, running to the sea of people who seem to have magically just appeared out of nowhere.

Now, I’m not the tallest bean in the stock so my only resort of finding Chris was jumping up and trying to get a glance of a NASA Cap, some blonde hair with ashes of brown in it, or those blue eyes that we’re quite hard not to miss.

After my twelfth jump with no such luck of a glimpse of him, I gave up on that plan and went with sour plan b. “Humph..Ugh! Fine, people. I’ll go to the back you asswipes.”

Leaving the crowd I went to the terminal area, watching the people pass by with their collected loved ones as I stared at them angrily, pissed that I wasn’t one of the lucky ones. I didn’t lose hope, though, I waited for a good twenty minutes before finally, I caught sight of a very familiar looking button down.

I don’t know whether it was the possible dangerous amount of coffee in me or just the adrenaline of seeing him again but I bolted down the hall.

“Chris!” I yelled just in time to have him catch me in his arms, wounding me tightly around his hips. I was a koala bear that refused to let go of him. The numbness of my subsided when he kissed me fervently, almost clawing at my hair with a desperation to be closer to me, than he already was. we already were.

Pulling back just enough to let himself whisper breathlessly to me, I couldn’t help but kiss away the tear that leaked from his glassy eyes. “You..have no idea…how long… I’ve waited for this.” Beaming with a smile that hurt my cheeks I laughed sneaked a kiss from him again.

“Oh love, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you… but… now that I have you back-”

“Oh I’m never fuckin’ leaving again, that’s for sure.” Both of us burst out laughing at Chris’s words.

I let my feet hit the ground and soon we became just another couple walking out of the terminal, smiling with each other’s arm wrapped around their waist. We looked so ordinary, so normal. No one asked Chris for a photo or even a question. They just smiled as we passed, on our way to my car in the parking lot.

I felt Chris let out a sigh of relief, feeling his fingers dig into my hip a bit, as we walked out of the airport. “It feels good to be back home…”

“It feels good to just have you here…” Chris smiled down at me when I softly answered back to him. 

I stole another glance at him again, just wanting to see that face once more. Letting it sink in that he was actually finally here. Finally in bed with me at night, eating my terrible made up foods, and listening to my awful karaoke. I let a few tears fall to the earth, not caring if my mascara made me a raccoon or not. 

All that mattered was he was here with me. His burly arm around my lower waist, cuddling into me like no time had placed since he’d last held me like this. 

“I can’t believe I went so long without seeing your face, Y/N. God, it hurt sometimes just to think of seeing you on skype at night because I couldn’t reach in and just grasp your hand,” His arm left my waist and he took my left hand into his right, interlocking our fingers. “Or just see your eyes in the real sunlight… I don’t know how you summoned the strength because I sure as hell was caving in on week three…” 

Giving only a smile, sincere smile, I kept his hand clasped with my own, holding his palm just a bit tighter to mine as I felt my throat tighten with a sob I refused to release. “Oh love,” I replied. Staring at his beautiful face while Chris looked at the sun rays starting to beam their light down on us, letting the skies lighten with a blue color so beautiful it lifted his spirits even higher. 

Just looking at his widening eyes, and dopey smile and felt a sob and chuckle come out at once. God, I’m in love with this man…How did I get through these months away from him? Lord knows it was spent sometimes with my face in a pillow or my body tucked under the sheets all day… all of it, though, I’d do again and again just to be able to hold that face…

How hard was it to be away from you, Chris? 

 Love, you have no idea.


Tell me your thoughts! I wrote this on a whim so constructive criticism is always welcomed haha! - R .xx 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

In my headcanon I imagine angst filled conversation in the Lord's chamber where Sansa shakes and tells Jon she's his family and his friend. "Aren't I?" She kind of trembles, and Jon replies "No, I'm not your friend." And Sansa shudders and tears start forming, but before she could let anything out in a shaky breath, Jon takes heated wide steps to her without saying a word, grabs the back of her head and kisses her like his life (2nd life? lol) depended on it. Someone make it happen 😭

Omg T_T 

Can I just… 


There is dried blood caked in his hair and mud and sweat coating his leather and furs. He is in dire need of a bath to wash the grime of battle from his skin and soothe his aching muscles, but he stands here anyway, watching her as she takes him in, rosy pink lips parted like a prayer. 

“You’re home,” she whispers, timid and afraid, like mayhaps she is dreaming up his presence. It should not excite him so to imagine her dreaming of him, but he smiles and nods. “I didn’t think you would… I heard from… Bran says he saw you surrounded by the Others.” 

“Aye,” Jon admits. He takes a tentative step forward. “I thought I’d die out there.” 

Sansa shivers, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. “I dreamt of a wolf howling, white and as big as a mountain with eyes like liquid fire. I thought it was Ghost but when the moon caught it just right, its eyes turned lilac.” 

Her implication is clear and Jon freezes, suddenly overcome with the desire to run and hide from her, from this truth he refuses to bear. It is Sansa now that walks towards him. He doesn’t look at her; he can’t quite bring himself to. 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” she says softly. “You will always be my family. My friend.” 

Jon’s eyes snap back to hers, studying her, watching her. He feels spiteful and he gives a soft snort. “Am I? Your family, that is. Is that who I am?” He exhales slowly. “No, Sansa, I’m not your friend.” 

To watch her eyes fill with tears nearly breaks him right then and there, but Jon just closes the gap between them, cradling her face in his palms, as his lips immediately capture hers. He feels her gasp into his mouth, stilling for a second, before her fingers slide through his hair, tugging gently and causing every muscle in his body to constrict with want. Jon backs her up against the wall as he drops his hands down to her hips, desperate to feel her yet terrified to take this any further. 

“I can’t just be your friend,” he murmurs once he pulls back. “I love you, Sansa. I’ve fought this for so long but I can’t anymore. I love you. I want to start a family with you. I want to grow old with you here in our home.”

Tears streak down her cheeks. She loosens her grip on his hair and traces the line of his jaw with one finger until she reaches his bottom lip. “Are you asking me to marry you, Jon Snow?” 

“Aye,” he nods, smiling as he kisses her again, this time soft and quick. 

“Do you not worry over what the other houses may think?” she asks, but there is now a wicked grin on her face that makes Jon’s heart swell. 

“They have already disavowed me,” Jon says. “They do not care what I do anymore. And I doubt any of them are dumb enough to go against their beloved queen.” 

Sansa rolls her eyes and tugs him back for another kiss. “You’ll be my king then.”

   eyes closed // a post-bloom mini fic

   coming soon

it does not matter how long it has been, or what exists and comes to life within all that they encompass, because the way that rosie loves harry is louder than any noise being thrown at them. she won’t let him forget that – she can’t.

5

So Today I Watched… The Defenders (Season 1) // Marvel Studios & Netflix (2017)

The idea of The Defenders was released to the world by Marvel comics in 1971. The premise was very simple: take an unlikely team up of superheroes and make them work in impossible situations. The first line-up was a very unlikely pairing: Dr. Strange, Namor The Submariner and The Hulk. Over the years, the group had a rotating line-up from 1972 and on, with Dr. Strange and the Hulk being usually constant members along with a number of other mainstays such as Valkyrie, Nighthawk, Hellcat, Gargoyle, Beast, the Son of Satan and Luke Cage. The pattern here being that the team was not composed of the powerhouses the Avengers usually had. The concept evolved over time to gather more or less urban heroes in the lineup.

If the way Marvel studios builds their continuity is familiar to you, what they have done with this series will be recognizable at first glance.  After beginning in 2015 with their offerings on solo acts for Daredevil and Jessica Jones, following in 2016 with a second season of Daredevil and the first season of  Luke Cage, we are now closing in 2017 with a first lukewarm season of Iron Fist and the final team up of all these characters in The Defenders.  It’s been hyped up for a long time and everything you have seen in those past offerings has been building up to this. Does it deliver? Read on true believer…

As the story begins we find all our heroes dealing with the aftermaths or fallouts of their actions of their own shows: Jessica Jones is drinking herself to death barely getting any PI jobs, Iron Fist is traveling the world looking for the Hand, Luke Cage is getting out of the joint and Matt Murdock is working pro-bono cases to help people in need, each of them minding their own business until an earthquake hits Hell’s Kitchen in New York and they all seem to be affected by it in one way or another. A woman has lost her husband and comes to Jessica asking for help, which she refuses to give until a phone call tells her to not take the job (which of course she takes as dare for actually taking the bloody job she just refused to do in the first place). Luke arrives to Harlem and wants to keep helping the community in any way he can, so he gets back in touch with detective Misty Knight and she points him towards some mysterious disappearances of local kids doing odd jobs. Danny Rand is sent back to the city by a lead pointing to the Hand being active in New York City and Matt is refusing to bear the Daredevil mantle again after Elektra’s death.

Unlikely circumstances and the return of familiar faces for all the heroes gather them together to deal with a menace that it’s way over their heads, but since no one else knows what they have figured out about this menace so far, and passing this on to big-time super heroes or police forces will only make matters worse, they take it up to themselves to deal with the Hand. For the first time we get to know the five fingers composing the leadership of the Hand organization and we get the full scope of what they plan to do and their motivations.

You may be expecting a lot out of this team up and while I believe we have been served in the entertainment department, I feel we could have done with a better plot or something deeper for this gathering of characters. I mean, after the flawless job done by Marvel and Netflix with Daredevil, Luke Cage and Jessica Jones I was rooting really hard for this series, but after watching the 8 episodes in one sitting I feel the effort a bit flat and just enough to justify all of these guys teaming up. The stakes are supposed to be big, but you don’t really feel it at all. We don’t even get something that sticks with us as defining for this series like the powerful character development of Jessica Jones, the soundtrack of Luke Cage or the fighting choreographies of Daredevil. All in all The Defenders feels just fine, maybe average at best, not great like it was supposed to.

Maybe I was expecting too much out of it.

Heyay.

Hey, I want to just say this, because before i became an EFL teacher, I did an MA in Holocaust history.

I talked to a lot of survivors.

I still remeber, sitting in the rows of a cinema in the Imperial War Museum, watching the survivors troop in,

Peeps.

If you are gay.

Muslim.

Latino.

Trans.

Whathever fuck.

Peeps.

This is looking really fuckin bad.

Like.

You know a WW2 joke?

What does the Optimistic Jew say to the Pessimistic Jew?

How is the view from New York? The view from the concentration camp really sucks.

Get out.

I would march for you. I would stand for you. But I live in Vietnam. If you have a degree, apply for work as an English teacher and get out.

Seriously.

If this was WW2 I would be talking to you Jews and communists. As it is I beg I am wrong, but Please.

Get out.
Message me if you want to live in a sane country.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL

And neither was Nazi Germany

I can help you.

Plese get out.

Becase this is going to end in Mulim KZ, and I refuse to bear witness.

Please.

Message me. I am working for one of the premier EFL companies, I can find you work outside the us,

Please.

I would stand wih you with your protests, but I am not here

Please.

Reach out.

I want to help.

The twins came home from school with some rather heavy mood swings. Their grades are still solid B’s, while little Yun is suddenly an A student! He swears that his good grades are a result of him wearing that bear costume and refuses to take it off.

beezarre  asked:

For the fic title thing, for Holby: Little red riding hood

haha so I’ve had a “Serena Red Cap gets devoured by a Wolfe” plot!bunny swirling around in my head for eons but never got around to writing it (lmao whoops) so here have a fragment

“Le type de loup le plus dangereux” Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe (Holby City), 750+, NC-17. CW: Explicit Sexual Content, period appropriate attitudes towards sexual relations + seduction (idk it’s c17th France just roll w it) 

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NCT 127 wanting to cuddle when they're feeling down 😔

Taeil: Even though at the start of the relationship he’s going to struggle with any sort of physical contact, as the bond between you two strengths, his insecurities will fade away. You two may have started off as strangers, but now you’re the person he shares all of his thoughts and feelings with.

So, after a less than perfect day, Taeil has no reservations about seeking you out for emotional support. He’s going to throw his arms around your waist and bury his face in the crook of your neck, refusing to let go until you’ve heard every last detail about his disastrous day. “Y/N, you’re so lucky you weren’t there. The guy is a complete asshole, do you know what he said to me while I was in the studio today? He told me that I apparently…”

He’s one of the quieter members, but on days like these he needs to vent, and that’s just what he’ll do for hours at a time. Clear your schedule because you’re spending the rest of the afternoon in bed listening to Taeil talk, and talk, and talk some more.

Taeyong: We all know how emotional he is, and it’s not that he tries to hide it from you, but he still isn’t comfortable enough to seek you out. Most people can’t grasp his emotional complexity. What some people might consider to be constructive criticism, can be one huge blow to his at times very fragile ego and self image. He wants your comfort, but he wonders if he’s earned it.

You’re going to have to be the one to recognize that something is wrong and force him to open up. At first he might push you away, making light of the situation, but at the end of the day there’s noway he’d ever say no to cuddling with you.

He won’t talk much, if at all, about the issue, but he will let you know how much you mean to him. “Y/N, I love you. You’re cute, and kind, and I could spend all night complimenting you.” Taeyong will cling to you the entire night because he is so extremely thankful that he has someone who cares so deeply about him in his life.

Yuta: He’s super straightforward about his thoughts and feelings, especially when it comes to your relationship. The one thing Yuta doesn’t do is hold back. If he’s feeling like crap, and he’s craving physical attention to make it better, he is going to let you know. “Babe, get your ass in the bedroom.” He shouts the minute he hears you walk through the front door.

“Seriously? Yuta, I just got back from the gym. I’m sweaty, and smelly, and I want to be alone. Later.” You refuse, dropping your bag on the floor as you head towards the bathroom, in desperate need of a shower.

If you won’t join him in the bedroom, for some much needed cuddles, then Yuta’s just going to have to join in the shower. It’ll start off super sweet and innocent. You’ll baby him and wash his hair while he tells you all about the shitty day he’s had, but the moment you’re about to turn off the water, he’s going to pounce on you, so he can let off all of his built up frustration.

Jaehyun: I don’t see him as much of a cuddler, but that’s only because once he gets his hands on you it’ll quickly escalate to something more. However, if he’s really going through a rough time, he might actually forget about sex for a few hours.

Like Yuta, Jaehyun is very direct with you about his needs in your relationship. He knows he can trust you with his emotions and he knows that you care enough to actually listen to what he has to say. If you’re laying in bed watching television, Jaehyun will come up behind you and pull you into his chest.

“I know you’re busy watching that soap opera you love so much, but you’re going to have to turn in off and focus the rest of your attention on me for tonight. I promise I’ll make it up you later.” The remainder of the night will be spent talking about whatever it is that’s got Jaehyun in a slump, with lots of cute, little kisses in between.

Winwin: He’s kind of like a giant baby that just wants to be nurtured and loved. Yes, he is a grown man who can take care of himself, but he’d much rather have you taking care of him. The second he walks through the door, he’s going to cement himself to your side.

“Babeeeee, the photographer was really mean to me during the photo shoot today.” That’s about all the detail he’s going to go into because it really is a silly reason to be upset, but sometimes we just can’t control our feelings. Once he starts feeling down, it isn’t something Winwin can just get over instantly.

You’ll spend a good half hour trying to bring up his mood, but you two still have to eat dinner and you have an assignment due the next day, so as much as you want to continue cuddling with Winwin on the sofa, you can’t. He’ll be whiny about it, but ultimately accept reality. That being said, he’ll hover over you all day until you finally go to bed, where the two of you can continue your cuddle session.

Mark: I have a feeling that there’s nothing Mark loves more than cuddling with the love of his life. Mark is shy, but he’s also open, and honest, and great with people. He’s a positive thinker, so if he’s feeling down something seriously terrible happened.

He’s going to ambush you out of nowhere with a giant bear hug and refuse to let go. Mark is going to give you all the details and then ask for your honest opinion on the matter. There’s no one’s decision that he trusts more than your’s because he knows that there’s no one else who cares as much about his wellbeing as you do.

After coming up with a solution, you’re both going to realize that you never want your little cuddle session to come to an end. You’ll spend the rest of the night snuggling on the couch, enjoying each other’s company.

Haechan: He literally lives off of your attention. When he’s had a bad day, you will definitely be the first person he’ll go to for support and cuddles. He never shuts up, unless he’s suffering through something, and then he completely shuts down. Haechan’s got pretty thick skin, so you know it’s really bad when he’s begging for cuddles.

Rather than talk about what a nightmare his day was, he’s going to have you sit with him on the sofa and play with his hair or rub his back. He wants to forget about what happened, so he’s going to ask you to fill in the silence with pretty much anything you want. “Y/N, tell me how shopping with the girls went yesterday.”

Normally he hates hearing people go on and on about their mundane lives, but nothing makes him him happier than hearing you talk, no matter what you have to say. Being near you and knowing that he has someone who loves him and who he loves is all he needs to overcome any hurdles that come his way.

I Love to Hate You

TITLE: I Love To Hate You

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirteen


AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki and you dislike each other, but you are forced into an arranged marriage and as time goes by, it barely gets better. It seems to be a marriage that will hardly be amiable but certain events causes Loki to be the husband you never thought he could be.

RATING: Teen

NOTE: Remember this story? Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, I could not retrieve it from my old laptop so I had to wait for inspiration to work on it again, here is some, enjoy.  

Alexandra sighed as the warm water surrounded her as her body sank into the bath tub, in the four months since her parents had died and she and Loki had taken the throne, there were very few issues, bar the usual expected teething issues, and the baby continued to grow well and safe.

Mikhail’s accusations and comments were met with open hostility by most every member of the court, some outright asking the new royals if they wanted him whipped and imprisoned for treason. Both agreed the shock of the suggestion, and the banning of him and his sons from the Privy Council was punishment enough, for now. Should he continue to act as he was, perhaps that was an option.

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