bus-route

When magic starts to return to the modern world, barely anyone notices. It doesn’t look anything like what we imagine. People don’t suddenly start developing magic powers, casting spells, or turning into elves and dwarves. In fact, people don’t really change at all, not at first.  It turns out that the magic isn’t even here for us. It’s here for what we’ve built. 

The change is slow, and subtle, and strange, as the magic works its way into our institutions. You mail letters to dead relatives, and the post office starts delivering their replies. Late-night bus routes stop at places never seen on any atlas. Libraries suddenly include subterranean archives where you can look anything you’ve ever forgotten, from the names of your favorite childhood books to the precise flavor of your first-ever chocolate chip cookie. 

The people working at these places take the changes in stride. The letters from the dead just show up every morning, sorted and stamped and ready for delivery, so why not carry them? Bus drivers follow the maps they’re given without trouble, and learn to accept even small gold coins as more than adequate fare. Electricians get used to seeing warding symbols in circuit diagrams, while clerks at the DMV find a stack of forms for registering ghostly steeds as personal vehicles, and sigh in relief at finally having that particular bureaucratic headache solved. The firefighters are shocked the first time they see a giant of living water burst out from a hydrant, but after it rescues several of them from a burning building, they decide not to ask questions. They tell their stories to others, though, and soon word of the changes is spreading. 

There’s no single moment of realization where everyone discovers that magic is real; the knowledge just creeps into day to day life a bit at a time, and society adapts. Cyber-safety programs teach people to never accept a file from the electric fairies without sharing one in return, and to never accept their Terms and Conditions without searching for the subsection on Souls, Forfeiture Thereof. Students leave offerings of coffee and boxed wine to petition the School Spirit for lower tuition or exam deferrals. Nurses learn the hours when Death stalks the hospital hallways, and keep bedside vigils in the children’s ward. They bring board games and cards for when the reaper is feeling playful, and well-worn baseball bats for when he isn’t. 

There are problems, of course, like the vicious monsters of blood and fire spawned from age-old hate groups, or infestations of the writing many-mouthed worms that literally feed on governmental corruption, but really, they were already there before the change. Magic only elaborates on what we’ve made, good or ill, manifesting the latent modern mythology underpinning our society. It doesn’t offer solutions to all of life’s problem, but for a few hurting people, guarded by the concrete arms of a neighborhood come to life to protect its community, or flying away on wings of copper wire and fiber-optic cable, it’s exactly the change they needed. 

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My bus route is so nice

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9

So i did some research…

Owl Service is a Book by Alan Garner

The Bus routes actually exist in Chicago..

When I googled Owl Service the book appeared as well as the bird sign (in connection with the book) that Hobi is also doing..

This one book cover has 3 circles…its the same author another story but… there 3 kids in the book owl service -idk if this connects but i saw this book cover while doing my research and it reminded me of the wings cover- (just read the summary i put it there for yall)

bts has 4 circles for their 4 different stories…

Also the signs they put on the plates (again read the summary) look like all the wings signs put together…

59…61…. whats on 9th May and 1st June?!?!?! Concert in Chicago?? Lol

I swear to god if this is again one of Namjoons RMBook shit….😧😧😧😧

I’m truly baffled by people who react so negatively to news of others trying to make things easier or better. Especially when their reasoning is that THEY did it the hard way, the real way, they worked three jobs and never got any help and suffered (oh god did they suffer)

I mean, god, you’d think someone who walked fifteen miles to school uphill both ways in the snow would be the first to advocate for a bus route

Photos of Celebrities at Women’s Marches Around the World

One day after Donald Trump was sworn in as the 45th president, protestors took to the streets of Washington, D.C. — and other cities around the world — in opposition of the reality star’s policies not just on women’s rights but human rights. While celebrities stayed away from the inauguration, they came out in droves for the Women’s Marches with Amy Schumer, Charlize Theron, Scarlett Johansson, Katy Perry, Amy Poehler, Chelsea Handler, Madonna, Lena Dunham, America Ferrera, and Ashley Judd among those lending their voices to the cause. And, yes, many of them rocked pink pussy hats.

Scarlett Johansson

Scarlett Johansson flashed a grin at the D.C. march, where she was also a speaker about her experience with Planned Parenthood. (Photo: Reuters)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Amy Schumer

Also in the capital? Amy Schumer, who arrived with her friends dressed in NASA gear. “March like everyone’s watching,” she wrote. (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Amber Tamblyn and Amy Schumer

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants actress Amber Tamblyn quipped, “NASA’s finest @amyschumer.” (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Samantha Ronson, Amy Poehler

Amy Poehler, who was hanging with Samantha Ronson and Amber Tamblyn, also marched, repping for Smart Girls everywhere. (Photo: Amber Rose Tamblyn/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Amy Poehler and Lena Dunham

Poehler also selfied with Girls actress Lena Dunham, who captioned this photo, “Parks & Menstruation.” (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Ashley Judd

Ashley Judd was also among the speakers in D.C. She read a poem about “nasty women” and spoke about the sexual assault allegations against Trump. (Photo: Ashley Judd/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Cher

Cher, who was protesting in NYC days earlier, also went to the capital. “I want to give support and let people know that this was important enough for me to come and hear them and help them,“ she told People magazine. ” I want people to know that, as a group, we can change things,” (Photo: AP Photo/Sait Serkan Gurbuz)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Jake Gyllenhaal and Maggie Gyllenhaal

Siblings Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal made the protest a family affair. They were in D.C. together. (Photo: Shannon Stapleton/Reuters)

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Jessica Chastain

Jessica Chastain had more than enough credentials to get her into the D.C. march. (Photo: Instagram)

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Ariana Grande

Here’s pop singer Ariana Grande in a bus en route to the march, which she planned to attend with her mom and grandma. (Photo: Ariana Grande/Instagram)

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Melissa Benoist

Supergirl‘s Melissa Benoist had a custom sign that said, “Hey Donald, Don’t try to grab my p**** it’s made of steel.” (Photo: Instagram)

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Debra Messing

The Will & Grace alum wore a pink “meow” hat as she traveled to the march with pal Ali Wentworth. (Photo: Debra Messing/Instagram)

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Lena Dunham

Lena made a point to show off her shirt, which said, “Women are powerful and dangerous.” (Photo: Lena Dunham/Instagram)

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Jennifer Beals, Chelsea Handler, Mary McCormack, and Charlize Theron

The Chelsea host organized the sister march in Sundance, where many stars are attending the Sundance Film Festival, and rallied her buddies, including Charlize Theron, Jennifer Beals, and Mary McCormack, for their snowy walk on Main Street. (Photo: Getty Images)

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Chelsea Handler

Handler, giving fellow protesters a hug while rocking a Planned Parenthood hat, said of organizing the march, “If there’s anything I learned in the last year, it’s that we need to be louder and stronger than ever about what we believe in, so I joined some incredible women from around the country to bring our voices together in the streets of Park City.” (Photo: Instagram)

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Charlize Theron

“Representing here at Sundance!” the Oscar winner wrote along with this selfie. (Photo: Charlize Theron/Instagram)

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Kristen Stewart

Kristen Stewart, who talked about Donald Trump’s bizarre obsession with her, also marched in Park City. (Photo: The Park Record/Twitter)

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Nick Offerman

“I’m a nasty girl,” wrote Parks and Rec alum Nick Offerman, looking fetching in his pussy hat in Utah. (Photo: Twitter)

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John Legend

While Chrissy Teigen flew to Washington to be at the main event, John Legend made sure to pound the snowy pavement back in Utah. (Photo: Amy Kaufman/Twitter)

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Laura Dern

Laura Dern, who was also in Park City, carried a poster demanding “justice for all. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

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Charlize Theron

Charlize wiped away a tear while listening to the powerful speeches in Park City (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

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Jurnee Smollett-Bell and John Legend

Legend also marched with Jurnee Smollett-Bell. (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

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Benjamin Bratt

Benjamin Bratt held a “Dolores” button for Civil rights activist Dolores Huerta. She was slated to speak at the march in Washington, but the documentary about her life, Dolores, was accepted into the film festival so she went there instead. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

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Ian McKellen

There was an Ian McKellen sighting at the march in London. (Photo: Twitter)

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Gillian Anderson

The X-Files actress brought along her daughter, Piper, to march in London. “Proud to be one of many today,” she wrote. (Photo: Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Jessica Chastain

Jessica Chastain had more than enough credentials to get her into the D.C. march. (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Ariana Grande

Here’s pop singer Ariana Grande in a bus en route to the march, which she planned to attend with her mom and grandma. (Photo: Ariana Grande/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Melissa Benoist

Supergirl‘s Melissa Benoist had a custom sign that said, “Hey Donald, Don’t try to grab my p**** it’s made of steel.” (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Debra Messing

The Will & Grace alum wore a pink “meow” hat as she traveled to the march with pal Ali Wentworth. (Photo: Debra Messing/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Lena Dunham

Lena made a point to show off her shirt, which said, “Women are powerful and dangerous.” (Photo: Lena Dunham/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Jennifer Beals, Chelsea Handler, Mary McCormack, and Charlize Theron

The Chelsea host organized the sister march in Sundance, where many stars are attending the Sundance Film Festival, and rallied her buddies, including Charlize Theron, Jennifer Beals, and Mary McCormack, for their snowy walk on Main Street. (Photo: Getty Images)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Chelsea Handler

Handler, giving fellow protesters a hug while rocking a Planned Parenthood hat, said of organizing the march, “If there’s anything I learned in the last year, it’s that we need to be louder and stronger than ever about what we believe in, so I joined some incredible women from around the country to bring our voices together in the streets of Park City.” (Photo: Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Charlize Theron

“Representing here at Sundance!” the Oscar winner wrote along with this selfie. (Photo: Charlize Theron/Instagram)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Kristen Stewart

Kristen Stewart, who talked about Donald Trump’s bizarre obsession with her, also marched in Park City. (Photo: The Park Record/Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Nick Offerman

“I’m a nasty girl,” wrote Parks and Rec alum Nick Offerman, looking fetching in his pussy hat in Utah. (Photo: Twitter)

External image

John Legend

While Chrissy Teigen flew to Washington to be at the main event, John Legend made sure to pound the snowy pavement back in Utah. (Photo: Amy Kaufman/Twitter)

External image

Laura Dern

Laura Dern, who was also in Park City, carried a poster demanding “justice for all. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Charlize Theron

Charlize wiped away a tear while listening to the powerful speeches in Park City (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Jurnee Smollett-Bell and John Legend

Legend also marched with Jurnee Smollett-Bell. (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Benjamin Bratt

Benjamin Bratt held a “Dolores” button for Civil rights activist Dolores Huerta. She was slated to speak at the march in Washington, but the documentary about her life, Dolores, was accepted into the film festival so she went there instead. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Ian McKellen

There was an Ian McKellen sighting at the march in London. (Photo: Twitter)

External image

Gillian Anderson

The X-Files actress brought along her daughter, Piper, to march in London. “Proud to be one of many today,” she wrote. (Photo: Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

John Legend

While Chrissy Teigen flew to Washington to be at the main event, John Legend made sure to pound the snowy pavement back in Utah. (Photo: Amy Kaufman/Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Laura Dern

Laura Dern, who was also in Park City, carried a poster demanding “justice for all. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Charlize wiped away a tear while listening to the powerful speeches in Park City (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Jurnee Smollett-Bell and John Legend

Legend also marched with Jurnee Smollett-Bell. (Photo: George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Benjamin Bratt

Benjamin Bratt held a “Dolores” button for Civil rights activist Dolores Huerta. She was slated to speak at the march in Washington, but the documentary about her life, Dolores, was accepted into the film festival so she went there instead. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

External image

Ian McKellen

There was an Ian McKellen sighting at the march in London. (Photo: Twitter)

External image

Gillian Anderson

The X-Files actress brought along her daughter, Piper, to march in London. “Proud to be one of many today,” she wrote. (Photo: Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Benjamin Bratt

Benjamin Bratt held a “Dolores” button for Civil rights activist Dolores Huerta. She was slated to speak at the march in Washington, but the documentary about her life, Dolores, was accepted into the film festival so she went there instead. (Photo by George Pimentel/Getty Images)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Ian McKellen

There was an Ian McKellen sighting at the march in London. (Photo: Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

Gillian Anderson

The X-Files actress brought along her daughter, Piper, to march in London. “Proud to be one of many today,” she wrote. (Photo: Twitter)

Source: Yahoo Celebrity

2

German-Russian suspect bombed soccer bus, then blamed Muslims, investigators say

  • A 28-year-old German-Russian man was charged Friday with bombing the Borussia Dortmund soccer team bus on April 11. 
  • German officials said the man aimed to profit financially from the tragedy and blame Muslims for the fallout, the Associated Press reported.
  • The suspect, identified as Sergej W., allegedly planted three explosive devices along the team’s bus route and left several notes at the crime scene suggesting Islamic terrorists were responsible. 
  • Just days before the attack, he took out a loan to bet Borussia Dortmund’s stock shares would drop — a likely scenario if any of the team’s players were severely injured or killed, prosecutors said.
  • German Interior Minister Thomas de Maiziere called the scheme a “particularly perfidious way to toy with people’s fears,” according to the Associated Press, hinting at the widespread fear-mongering aimed at Muslims that has gripped the globe in recent months. Read more (4/21/17)

lwoorl  asked:

Do you think the animorphs could have win the war if Eva had not been taken by the Yeerks?

Eva’s right about Marco: he’s a sweet kid, even to the point of delicacy, and he has no understanding of the vileness of the world.  He’s never tasted death, never watched one parent disappear while the other decayed.  The world has not yet made him hard, has not honed the sharp edges of his mind into razors and armored spikes.

  • This time around, when they’re all standing around arguing in Cassie’s barn, Marco becomes first the one to agree with Tobias.  “Think about it, man,” Marco says, grinning at Jake.  “Turning into animals? Saving the planet? It’s like something out of a comic book.”
    • “Our parents would kill us if they knew,” Jake says slowly.
    • “That’s why they’re never gonna know,” Marco says, laughing.  “How about it, huh?  We rescue Tom, we kick butts, and depending on how that goes we’ll talk more later.”
    • After the mission goes more wrong than they ever could have imagined, after they learn what hell looks like and lose a fight against the being who rules that hell, Marco misses nearly a week of school.  His parents are worried, of course, but neither of them can get a straight answer out of him.  Marco keeps his trap shut, because he knows this much: if Tom could be a controller, then anyone could be.  
  • Still, Marco loves his friends, and he can’t let them face danger alone.  He helps them infiltrate Chapman’s house, and the construction site afterward.  He goes with them to take down the yeerks’ supply ship, grumbling the whole time about how they’re all gonna die.  He rescues Ax, and does his best to stifle the nightmares that follow their encounter with the sharks.  Each time he gets home, he’s met at the door of his house by Eva, who is growing steadily more concerned and doesn’t know what to think of his increasingly-flimsy lies.  
    • He says to Jake, “This is going to be my last mission,” and this time he means it.  They barely make it out of that mission alive, and even then only because of the grace of Visser One (whose human host is a young engineer named Allison Kim) and her ongoing conflict with Visser Three.
    • Marco quits; Jake doesn’t try to stop him.  Marco agrees to stop morphing entirely, and so he walks home—and straight into an intervention.  
  • Eva and Peter don’t know whether Marco has joined a gang, started taking drugs, fallen in with the wrong crowd, or what.  All they know is that the withdrawn silences, the nightmares, and the free-falling GPA are all recent developments.  They have questions, and they’re not letting him get away without answers.  They tell him that they’re here for him, but also that they are going to leave town to go spend some time in Eva’s sister’s cabin in the woods for the next five days, and he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.  
    • “Actually,” Marco says, “five days in the middle of nowhere sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all year.”
    • Even this kinder, gentler version of Marco is still Marco: he watches both his parents carefully for the next seventy-two hours, and can hardly believe the relief he feels when they go that entire time without leaving their tiny corner of nowheresville long enough to access a yeerk pool.  
    • When those seventy-two hours are up, Marco sends a mental apology to Jake (who, although Marco doesn’t know it, is starving out a yeerk of his own at that very time) and then starts answering his parents’ questions.  He tells them where he’s been going lately.  Why he and Jake have missed so much school in the past two months.  What the nightmares are about.  
    • Eva and Peter think he’s crazy at first, because they’re God-fearing suburban Americans who have never once considered the possibility of aliens outside of sci-fi.  They start to listen a lot more closely, however, once he morphs a wolf in front of their eyes and then changes back.  
  • When the entire family gets home and Marco discovers that his best friend spent three days as a controller in his absence, he immediately rejoins the team.  Peter disapproves sharply of Marco continuing to fight.  Eva asks Peter, tears in her eyes, what choice they have in the matter.  It’s not like the human authorities are doing anything to combat the yeerks.  It’s not like they can fight back themselves.  And so they get in the habit of sending Marco out the door (or a window) any time Jake or Cassie calls, always begging him to let them know he’s safe the instant he can.
  • Funny enough, though, they do find ways to fight back. 
    • Eva listens to their description of the Veleek in careful detail, then she loads Jake and Cassie and Marco into the back seat of her sedan and instructs them to take turns morphing.  For nearly six hours she barrels up and down Highway 1 at speeds which leave Marco shrieking in terror at the turns, playing keep-away with the tornado monster until at last Visser Three calls it home in exasperation.  
    • Peter simply hands over his laptop to Ax and asks for help in “fixing” his code for the long-distance communications array.  Ax does one better and helps him design a program which gets them a permanent connection between the andalite home world and Marco’s own living room.  He stops by to call his parents twice a week, and once a month gives carefully-edited reports on the resistance to the andalite high command.
    • At first, Eva nudges Ax into staying for dinner after his twice-weekly calls home, on the grounds that she’s never in her life seen someone eat her cooking with that much enthusiasm.  However, it’s not long before she convinces him to bring Tobias by as often as he can.  It does them a lot of good, even though neither one of them will admit it outright, to have a safe place to get inside when they need it.  
    • Eva doesn’t love it, but she starts doing a lot of the kids’ homework as well.  She always does her best to quiz them on Algebra concepts or history dates when there’s time, but she also understands that sometimes the war has to take priority.
    • Peter installs an air mattress on Marco’s floor on a semi-permanent basis, and gets in the habit of lying to Jean.  Because Jake’s just a kid, at the end of the day, and there are a lot of times at the end of the day when he’s too wrecked or exhausted from yet another mission gone bad to face the thought of lying to his family.  
  • Eva dislikes David right from the moment Marco first brings him home, but she keeps that opinion to herself.  She sits patiently through the entitled little brat asking her where she’s from (implying, of course, that “San Diego” cannot possibly be the full truth) but also tells him that if he even thinks of borrowing their phone without permission she will make him regret it for the rest of his life.  With effort she ignores his repeated attempts to undermine her authority (she’s not his real mom, as he feels the need to remind her constantly) but when she catches him stealing money from Peter’s wallet, she snaps and grounds him on the spot.
    • David immediately morphs into a lion, unsheathing hooked claws as a growl builds inside his throat.  It takes a force of will Eva didn’t even know she had, but she stares him down without flinching.  Cold sweat is running down her back, but there’s not even a trace of a tremor in her words when she orders him to demorph now, young man, in her best Mom Voice.  
    • Miraculously, he listens.  He sulks about it all afternoon, whining to Peter and to Marco (neither of whom is remotely sympathetic), but the fact is that he can’t bring himself to kill a human.  Not yet, anyway.  
    • When David disappears two days later, Eva asks Marco only once what happened.  He tells her in two or three halting sentences, and afterwards she hugs him until he finally stops shaking.  She explains what happened to Peter, and neither one of them ever brings it up again.  
  • Marco’s house becomes the natural convergence point for all their meetings.  It’s only three doors down from Jake’s house, a five-block walk from Rachel’s, and close enough to Cassie’s usual bus route that she has little trouble getting there.  They don’t really converge there for the location, though.  They come for Peter’s willingness to cobble together a fake Bug fighter distress signal on the fly, for Eva’s no-nonsense questions about whether they’re sure it’s a good idea to attack Joe Bob Fenestre’s house before they know what they’re getting into.  They come for the cinnamon cookies that Ax eats by the trayful and the links to forum discussions about the latest yeerk activity.  
    • It might be a cliche, but the truth is this: at Marco’s house they are safe.  And in that small bubble of safety, they have freedom.  The freedom to talk openly about new morphs without fear of being overheard.  The freedom to come and go through the sunroom skylight that Eva leaves open at all times.  The freedom to be vulnerable and scared and not sure where they’re going with this war.  The freedom to be kids, and to ask an adult for help.  
    • Eva talks to Rachel for nearly three hours about her own parents’ divorce, and what it was like to realize she’d probably never see her dad again.  Peter keeps a stock of paperback novels in the living room, never minding when Tobias tends to return them with talon marks in their spines.  Eva teaches Ax how to cook cinnamon cookies and churros, chicken fajitas and western omelettes.  Peter becomes ever more convincing when assuring Walter and Michelle on the phone that Cassie is simply a delight to have around as she and Marco help each other with homework.  
  • Marco kills Visser One, and Allison Kim along with her, one sunny afternoon in May.  Visser Three witnesses the whole thing, not lifting a finger to intervene.  The kids have gotten in the habit of telling Peter and especially Eva absolutely everything, but this is the one thing Marco can never bring himself to tell.  
  • The war ends eventually.  Maybe it’s not better, or worse, than it would have been if Visser One had chosen a different host.  They take longer to figure out how to defeat Visser Three without Eva’s insight to the way yeerk leadership works, but they get there in the end.  Tom dies.  Rachel dies.  James and Kelly and several thousand humans and hork-bajir and taxxons die.  Seventeen thousand yeerks meet a terrible icy death in the vacuum of space; Eva finds out about it later and can’t bring herself to disapprove.  
  • One week after Rachel’s funeral, Eva is watching Marco’s latest NBC segment when she hears a knock on the door.  Muting the TV, she goes to answer it and finds Jake on her doorstep once again.  This time he’s got a backpack over one shoulder and a worn duffle bag with the name of a basketball team that rejected him tucked under the opposite arm.  
    • “Hi,” he says softly, voice hoarse as if from tears.  “Things with my parents are kind of a mess right now, and I was just wondering…”  
    • Eva pulls the door open all the way.  “Of course, honey.  Stay as long as you’d like.”

montponine  asked:

they don't start "dating" so much as they just. fall into a relationship and all of a sudden they're holding hands and spending a lot of time together and kiSSING(!?) and neither of them really knows when it started but they don't care. james says i love you to everyone bc he's v affectionate but when he says i love you to lily it's Different and everyone can hear it it's not i love you it's I Love You every time no matter how small the scenario it's always I Love You

James is pretty sure he’s been in love with Lily Evans since the beginning of fifth year but then he realises that’s not love because you can’t love someone you don’t know. She’s just very very very attractive. Then the Incident happens and he doesn’t know how he feels and Lily is even more in the dark because they were friends except for when he was a cock but now all she feels when she looks at him is burning burning burning.

The summer cools her off and she doesn’t expect him when she gets back. Well, she does, she just doesn’t expect so much of him. He’s grown, again, and she’s not sure if he’ll ever stop, and it suits him. There’s less tripping and squeezing under desks. Finally, he seems able to actually control all of his limbs. He can’t control his eyes though. James finds them wandering to her during lessons, lunch, once even a quidditch match. She’s so easy to spot with wine red hair and eyes which don’t seem to want to meet his, but do anyway. She keeps noticing things about him, things that weren’t there before. Or maybe she just never let herself notice them before? It happens all the time and she hates that she loves it.

It’s easy. Being friends. Like picking up a book your mum used to read to you at bedtime. You think you’ve forgotten the words, but they all come flooding back. That’s how it feels. To have his arm over her shoulders, to duel with him in DADA, to steal toast from his plate, to save the strawberry botts for her, to watch him and only him on the pitch, to share Potions notes, to throw parchment notes at each other in History of Magic, to borrow his scarf, to hold her hand to help her across boggy Scottish soil. All of it, everything - it’s natural.

People start assuming they’re together. They stop being Lily Evans and James Potter and become Lily and James, addressed as one. Sirius rolls his eyes and becomes bitter, interrupting conversations and not moving to allow Lily a seat. Mary and Marlene giggle and wink at her whenever she sits besides him, the traitorous gits. Everyone knows something is up. Except for them.

Then it’s summer again and he’s so far away and she’s too far away and they write. They write too much to go unnoticed, by friends and then by parents. Mrs Evans try to be nonchalant as she asks who all these owls are from. Mr Potter ruffles James’ hair when Sirius points out that James is spending more time replying to letters then he is playing quidditch. There’s talk of meeting up, but it never happens. Lily never quite manages to draw up the courage to tell James which bus route to take. James always fails to write down where the spot for apparating to is. So they go all summer never seeing each other, except in familiar g’s and friendly scribbles which Lily has to spend ages deciphering into something legible.

September comes and they’re both wearing their badges and neither one is surprised but both are slightly hurt the other didn’t mention it. Excuses are useless so they just say well done and attempt to organise the prefects, even though Remus spends the whole meeting making suggestive gestures at one of them when the other isn’t looking. And nothing has changed. Except James is taller, again, and Lily’s hair is shorter and her boobs are bigger (but James definitely hasn’t noticed that), but they’re the same. No one blinks twice when they’re the only two left in the common room. Everyone is used to seeing them together, heads bent close, people uncertain if they’re discussing rotas or the latest transfiguration journal. It becomes customary that if Lily’s the only one on a sofa, the other half is reserved for James. If James falls asleep with her head in her lap, there’s nothing unusual about it.

People call them a couple and they don’t think to correct them, not having discussed it but sort of knowing anyway. She kisses him goodbye outside the Three Broomsticks once, a peck on the cheek, the Marauders going onto Zonko’s and the girls visiting Honeydukes. He blushes but she doesn’t and then that’s a thing too. It doesn’t take long before the kisses are on the forehead, the nose, the lips. Always gentle, quick and not really anything of note except, every time lips brush skin, their hearts race faster. So no one’s surprised when, with the excuse of mistle toe, a short and swift kiss becomes a long, soft and languid one. (Until Peter throws a cushion at them.)

They’re dating, going out, boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re every synonym for together and they’re happy. Every inch of them says ‘I love you’, but they never say it. And then they do. And it just happens, and their hearts beat faster, and their breath comes short, but they’re not surprised. They know, everyone knows, how could they not be in love? James says it first, casually and then not casually at all. Lily says it back, into his neck, his lips, his heart, both of them smiling like they’ve been given the sun on a string.

So they’re in love and it’s a shred of light in a world which keeps getting extinguished around them. They’re not sure how or when it happened but it did and when they have nothing they have each other, because that’s just how it is.

EXO as people who rode my bus in school
  • Xiumin: The girl that always eats on the bus even though you're not supposed to. You like sitting next to her because she always offers you her goldfish or something.
  • Luhan: Sassy high school girl who makes funny jokes and makes friends with everyone, but secretly hates riding the bus; counting the days until she gets her driver's liscense
  • Kris: High school boy who sits in the back on his phone the whole time with sunglasses on. Little kids are intimidated by him, but he always helps them out of the back of the bus during fire drills cause he's hella strong
  • Suho: High school girl who sits in the front of the bus to help the bus driver with the younger kids; helps the substitute with the bus route
  • Lay: Kind hearted kid who obeys the bus driver and sits quietly in his seat either doing homework or working on his art project
  • Baekhyun: Girl who listens to music so loud you can hear it five seats in front of her and five seats behind her
  • Chen: The kid who made the bus driver stop the bus in the middle of a fricking corn field like five times because he was screaming too loud
  • Chanyeol: Late high school guy in a crap ton of sports; all the younger girls on the bus secretly have a crush on him
  • Kyungsoo: Middle school girl who literally will not let anyone sit with her. She either pretends to be asleep or says she had too many bags.
  • Tao: Little girl who has an iPad at six years old and goes on Snapchat with her friends the entire bus ride
  • Kai: Little boy who runs his toy cars along the window sill, gives all the pretty high school girls flowers
  • Sehun: That one 8th Grader who keeps trying to sit in the back with the high school kids but always gets kicked out
Ssamba’s Blog Post 3/17/17

Hello, this is Ssamba. ^^
Are you guys doing well? It looks like the weather has been getting better lately. Spring is slowly creeping up on us~
Due to the nice weather, I went to Jejudo with my mom. I left on Tuesday, and I came back yesterday afternoon hehe
I had a lovely time sightseeing.
My mom’s hometown is Jejudo. So I’ve always wanted to visit at least once with her.

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Morning Commutes

Josh Dun x reader

Summary: Bus rides can be a real drag. But sitting next to the right person can easily brighten your day.

Words: 510

A/N: Just something for all of us who know what the bus life feels like. Seriously though, whenever I’m on the bus on my way to and from school, I always have a little hope that when someone sits next to me, it will be a very cute boy or Josh Dun (who also happens to be a very cute boy).

You sat quietly, staring out the window watching cars drive by. It was 6:30AM on a Friday morning and you were on the bus. The weather outside was chilly but the bus driver had thankfully, cranked up the heat on the bus. Morning commutes that involved public transit could either be very pleasant or the absolute worst.

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Paper Maps

by Kristin Russo, taken from Freshman Year of Life : Essays That Tell the Truth About Work, Home, and Love After College


I moved to New York City when I was nineteen. I’m not sure that there’s ever been a place that sparkled and shone quite as much as NYC did for me that year, teeming with tangles of dirty streets, angry, honking cabs, and an endless array of scuttling rodents. I’d dreamed of this for years. Finally, it was all mine.

When I first arrived, I rented a tiny room in a hostel on the Upper West Side. My room had everything I needed: a twin bed, a desk, a mini-fridge, a heating pipe (which would burst a few weeks after I moved in, soaking all of my belongings and my brand-new forty-pound laptop), a sink, and a closet with three hangers. I shared a bathroom and a kitchen with five strangers who lived in my hallway.

At the time, I was finishing up my undergraduate degree in theater at Marymount Manhattan College. Marymount was on East Seventy-First Street, and my hostel was on West Ninety-Fourth Street. I studied the subway map (a paper map! I actually had a paper subway map!) to determine the best route between my new home and my new school. If I took the 2 train south to Times Square, I could transfer to the S train that would shuttle me across to Grand Central Station. Once there, I could transfer to the 4 train, one stop up to Fifty-Ninth Street and then transfer one more time to the 6 train to Sixty-Eighth. Boom. Four trains, no problem. This was city life. Yes!

I took those four trains twice a day. Not to brag, but I also learned how to get down to the NYU dorms at the South Street Seaport, where my then-girlfriend lived. (She was my very first girlfriend, and she was a great girlfriend. She let me smoke her cigarettes, wear her clothes, and borrow her wonderful CD mixes for my Discman-accompanied commutes.) One fateful day, I left her dorm and headed to catch the 4 train (another added bonus of staying at her place was that it only required two trains). I was wearing my favorite pair of overalls, which incidentally belonged to her and had legs that were wide enough to fit around my whole body. As I pushed through the subway trestle, I saw my train pull into the station. It had apparently only taken me three months of city living to begin to have the mind of a New Yorker, because my first instinct was to run as fast as I could to catch that train. And so, I ran.

And then, I fell.

Well… I almost fell. Truthfully, it would have been much better had I just fallen. Instead, my right foot caught in the wide swath of denim that surrounded it, and as I descended, I caught myself on the side of my left foot… and broke it.

Three months into moving to NYC, in the freezing November cold, I broke my goddamn foot.

I didn’t immediately know I’d broken it, but I did know that I was in a massive amount of pain. Not too much pain, however, to continue my now one-legged sprint to catch that train. And I did! I caught the train! No one cheered for me, but now that I understand the spirit of NYC a bit better, I’m certain they were all cheering on the inside. Once on the train and in the wake of this very real, very extreme pain, I lost awareness of what was and wasn’t acceptable train behavior. I dropped my bags in the middle of the train floor, I took off my giant winter coat, dropped it next to my bags, and I stared at my foot. That’s all I did. I just stared at my foot, sweating with pain, brow furrowed, with my belongings all around me on the subway floor. I stared at it all the way to Forty-Second Street, scooped up my things, and hobbled across the platform to transfer to the 6 train, dropped them once more on the subway floor, stared at my foot until we got to Sixty-Eighth Street, and then somehow walked, on my freshly broken foot, to my acting class. It took me almost thirty minutes to walk three street blocks and one avenue. For reference, that’s less than half a mile.

As you might expect, upon my arrival to class, my professor immediately told me to go to the walk-in clinic down the street. After x-rays, I was given a blue canvas boot and a pair of crutches, and I hobbled my way to an indulgent taxi ride back to my hostel.

In case you are unfamiliar with NYC winters, I will let you know that they are cold, they are icy, they are dirty, and they are entirely unforgiving— and all that with two working feet. I want to also remind you that my commute, up until this point, included about eight trains per day, and each of those came with ample walking and many stairs. I couldn’t get up and down stairs much at all, and certainly not when they were covered in icy slush. Suddenly, canvas boot and all, I couldn’t get anywhere.

Until, that is, I revisited my subway map and learned that NYC, in addition to its sprawling subway system, also has buses. Who. Knew. I learned (via my paper map) that just a few steps from my door was a crosstown bus that, on the regular, traveled right through Central Park to the east side. I’d been taking four trains this whole time when I could have taken just one bus? This was the first moment where the NYC I thought I knew laughed directly in my face before playfully tousling my hair. You see, NYC isn’t shy about breaking a person, bones and all, in a gesture of the warmest welcome.

I’ve now been in this city for fifteen years. I know almost every subway line and bus route that exists in nearly every borough. I traverse it with the same ease that I brush my teeth or climb into my bed. That moment, fifteen years ago in lower Manhattan, was the first of many moments (they really never stop) where I was forced to readjust, recalibrate, and further question the city, and world, around me. I had many other pivotal moments in those first few years— some with only a handful of subway passengers as my witness, and others where the whole world watched my city in confusion and wonder.

We all, inevitably, break our metaphoric (or in my case, literal) feet. Am I glad that I broke my foot? Not really. Am I glad that it made me recalibrate, readjust, and continue to question? You’d better believe I am. I needed to learn, just as we all do, that there is always more than one route on that paper map.

Oh, hey! This is a piece I wrote for the essay collection called Freshman Year of Life : Essays That Tell the Truth About Work, Home, and Love After College. I am in some pretty wonderful company, alongside writers such as Ashley Ford, Shannon Keating, and Mara Wilson. You should check it out!

Across the Pond (a Finlay MacMillan imagine - Part 2)

Part 1


This is part 2 because I can… Enjoy!

Originally posted by solydea


The first day of school was the last thing you wanted to wake up to, but with Ali pulling on you, you had no other option.

“Fin!” Ali called out as you adjusted your poorly tied tie to fit underneath your blazer. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!”

Fin came bounding down the stairs, running straight into the kitchen.

“Fin!” Ali called again, stomping into the kitchen after her brother.

“I’m coming Ali, give me a minute,” Fin said, frustrated.

You stood by the front door, fiddling with the end of your skirt. You hadn’t worn a skirt for a few months now, and this one wasn’t particularly one that you’d even touch back home.


Fin quickly walked past you, opening the front door.

“Bye mum!” he shouted, running out the door.

“Come on!” Ali exclaimed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with her.

The ride to school was tense, everyone on end for their various reasons. You pulled out your timetable for the month. You had English, Math, European History, and French lined up for you, like what you had back home.


Getting into the school, the three of you quickly dispersed, looking for your first periods. You managed to find yours without help (which you considered a win), and you noticed that there were a few people from your exchange group that were inside. They waved you over, pulling a chair to their table for you to sit down at.

“Good morning class!” the teacher said, quickly coming in and setting her papers on her desk. “My name is Ms. Laird, for those of you who don’t know.”

Your group awkwardly looked down, knowing that the comment was directed at you.

“Shall we get started?”

English wasn’t too hard, though, understanding through her accent was a challenge. Your group often whispered with each other, trying to comprehend her. You’d then get in trouble for talking during the lesson, and you’d hear the other students giggle at you. You couldn’t help but feel isolated in your small group, no one else talking to you, and the teacher only asking you questions that small school children could answer. You felt pathetic.

Your lunch was between Math and European History, and you were glad to get away. Though, the dining hall served nothing better. The group of exchange students were huddled away in a corner to themselves as no one seemed to want to be near you here. You all kept each other good company though, talking to many people that you otherwise wouldn’t have talked to.

You had become close to one of the other exchange students, Alex, who was in the music department at your school. You laughed at his concert horror stories, as did he. Things for the day were kind of looking up on this otherwise crummy day.

When the end of lunch came around, you had to say goodbye to Alex and you made your way to European History, which didn’t have any talking in it today as there were just readings, so no one could make fun of you. 


Last was French; after having spent much time in your school’s French immersion program, you knew that this class would be the easiest of them all.

Entering the classroom, you couldn’t find anyone you recognised. That is until your eyes landed on Fin, who was surrounded by a group of friends that glared you down as you walked past them to an empty seat. You quickly pulled out your school supplies, and opened your binder. You were feeling better than ever in this class, especially now that you knew someone other than an exchange group member that was there. The teacher, Mr. Reid, began writing on the board before stopping halfway, looking directly at you.

“We have a new student today, who will be joining us for the next month. Say ‘bonjour’ to y/n,” he said, giving you a warm smile.

The response you got was bland and cold, not that you were expecting anything different after the way you’d been treated all day.

“Y/n,” Mr. Reid said. “Stand up and tell us about yourself.”

“Should I do it in French?” you asked, curiously.

“This is French class,” he chuckled.

“Okay then, sir,” you replied before rapid firing an explanation of yourself. It wasn’t hard for you to talk, but you could tell by their faces that they were astonished at how fluent you were and how the words just seemed to flow out of your mouth. You doubted that any of them could understand what you were saying as you began using more advanced vocabulary that you had just recently picked up on yourself. By the time you finished, you had only taken up about 3 minutes, but had gone through the last four years of your life. You quickly sat down, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

Mr. Reid gave you another warm smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever taught someone who knew more French than I did!”

You let out a laugh and shrugged. He nodded, pointing to the board. “I’m assuming you know this already?”

On the board were the instructions for past tense, something you learned in elementary school. You nodded, “I learned it in elementary school.”

Mr. Reid chuckled. “Did you hear that class? We’ve got some catching up to do!”

You quickly realised that this class wasn’t going to be a challenge at all as it was a beginner’s class. You started drawing in your notebook, passing the time as Mr. Reid taught the lesson. 


As he handed out the exercises for the lesson, he gave you a knowing look and you awkwardly looked away. You quickly finished the exercises, handing them in a few minutes before the bell.

Going back to your seat, you could see Fin glancing at you before looking down at his page. You sighed, realising that he was going to be just like everyone else here; cold and distant. You couldn’t understand it. Ali was so nice, and Fin was too. You hadn’t seen Ali all day, but you wished you had. You knew that she liked you and would talk to you, and before you got to school, you were just as sure than Fin would too. 


The final bell pulled you out of your thoughts and you quickly got up to leave.

Leaving the classroom, you could see Alex on the other side, exiting his own class.

“Hey,” you said, coming up beside him. “Did today get any better for you?”

He let out a dry laugh. “They don’t want us here, y/n,” he explained. You nodded in agreement. “I wish they would treat us better though.”

You separated from Alex when you got to the front, and you were more than disappointed when you couldn’t even find Ali. You quickly whipped out your phone, dialling her number, but all you got was her machine. You angrily hung up, the frustrations of today finally whittling you down. You reached into your blazer pocket, pulling out some extra change that you had from lunch. You may have enough to take the bus home. You quickly Googled your bus route and made your way to the nearest bus stop. 


As you walked down, you could see Fin’s car drive by you, the sound of loud music and shouts coming from the small car. You couldn’t be angry, everyone had their own friends here, you just weren’t one of them.

“Y/n!” you heard Ali call out from behind you. She waved you over to her and her friends.

You quietly made your way over.

“How was your first day?” Ali asked, excited. With the excitement and hope in her eyes, you felt bad if you were to bring her down; so, you didn’t.

“It was good,” you lied, running a hand through your hair.

“That’s brilliant!” Ali exclaimed. She went on to introduce her friends, who were the nicest people that you’d ever met. Why weren’t they in your grade?

 

Getting home, you quickly went upstairs to start your homework. There was nothing else that you could do.

This was your routine for the next couple of days, and you couldn’t deny your isolation. 


Lunches became a full out war as other students would pelt you with food when the supervisors weren’t watching. By the end of that first week, no one had a clean button up.

“Where’d you get this stain?” Mrs. Macmillan asked, rubbing her finger over the tomato stain on your shirt.

You shrugged. “Must’ve dropped something on it, I guess I’m just clumsy.”

“We’ll have to get you a new one, this one’s ruined.”

You nodded, sighing deeply. The weekend was your heaven right now, with no one to bother you. Fin had stopped talking to you altogether, but you had gotten used to it. His friends absolutely hated you. No one in your level wanted to be close with any of the exchange students. You were the lowest of the low in their eyes.

Monday came around too quickly for your liking, and you were back to your personal hell. You were wearing one of Ali’s old button ups, and your blazer was buttoned as far as it could go. You managed to get through most of lunch fine, but it was quickly ruined when a plate of half-eaten spaghetti was poured on Alex.

Another boy, John, had enough.

“Do you think this is funny?” he called out to the other boy, who was laughing away with his friends.

John glared at them, before sitting down. You helped pull most of the pasta of Alex, realising that everything he had was ruined.

“You’re going to have to go home,” you said to him, wiping his arm of tomato sauce.

He sighed. “I know.”

He quickly left to call home. 


Unfortunately, that was the last time you saw him. It was announced the next day that Alex had quit the program and was heading home. It seemed almost like you’d lost someone in battle, and no one was pleased; but no one knew what to do.




Hey there! I hope you enjoyed this! Requests are still open if you’d like to request anything! Stay peculiar! <3

Revolutionary Set X Reader: She’s Sick

Word Count: 1069

Request: @artisticgamer Hi! Can I request poly hamilsquad x reader were its the anniversary of someone close to them death and they’ve been very distant?Thank you!

Pronouns: They/Them

Note: Even though the fic scheduled for today was posted on Monday, I wanted to give you guys something today, so here is this one. 

Another Time, Then? [Prequel]


You purposefully wake up an hour earlier in an effort to avoid the boys before you could head out to work today, despite having been on the phone late into the night. Shutting off your alarm clock, you yawn and rub your eyes. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you head towards the kitchen in an attempt to feel more awake than you already were. Entering your dining area, you notice Hercules sitting at the table, pondering over several designs laid out in front of him.

There goes avoiding people, you think, internally groaning.

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poochieisdead  asked:

What do you think killed malls? What do you think failed to stay relevant?

There are so, so many reasons why malls are dying. This recent article by Derek Thompson does a good job of explaining three of these, in the US at least:

1. the rise of online shopping

2. the US overbuilt malls– “The number of malls in the U.S. grew more than twice as fast as the population between 1970 and 2015″

3. a shift from paying for material goods to paying for experiences; travel and going to restaurants/bars is increasing, supposedly driven in large part because (sigh) younger people want Instagram-worthy experiences

I would add a couple more: 

1. The architecture of malls has not aged well, and renovations are expensive. Unlike a building such as a school, office, or even sometimes a house/apartment (where being old can translate to historic charm), malls are supposed to be “cool” places with the latest styles. But so many malls are just bland beige boxes with weird neon interiors that went out of style before today’s young people were born. (Related: malls basically have all the same stores so they feel super generic, and people want something different. When malls opened, it was a big deal to have so many stores in one place, but people are used to that now.)

2.Changes in the racial makeup of the community: so when I lived in Buffalo growing up, which is one of America’s most segregated cities, people would sometimes complain that a certain mall there was becoming “too ghetto” and that more “city folk” were shopping there. Some people were upset that bus routes went from downtown to this mall (in the suburbs). This translates to “I am uncomfortable because there are black people.” Racism is just one part of it, but it definitely is a part that people don’t really talk about imo. I have a feeling this kind of thing is widespread throughout the US; just using Buffalo as an example since I lived there.

This mall however is still thriving, in part because a big new modern wing was added with lots of fancy stores and restaurants. (See point above– architecture.) Another thing is, if the demographics stay pretty similar but just the economy of the area changes, people will also stop going to a mall. They might perceive it as beneath them, or, more rarely, too upscale.

This is self-reinforcing because if malls are perceived as not going to for some reason, fewer people will go, and then that makes even fewer people go because the mall is emptier and more depressing.