east ward

FINN JONES KILLED IT. HANDS DOWN.FIGHT ME.

I loved Iron Fist so much and I honestly do not have any issue with the casting as it was chosen; for once, the Execs made a good decision to actually stay true to the source material.

Hypothetically, though, would it have been cool to have an East Asian person cast as Iron Fist? Of course. I hands down would love to see more diversity in television and cinema as much as anyone else and I totally would have welcomed that if that had happened on this show

But on this particular casting, I feel there are too many people on this site and others projecting themselves and their desires onto everyone else to the point of bullying. And that is majorly uncool and unfair.

Seriously, give the show a chance. So many people poured their hearts, souls,time, and money into it. Judge it after you’ve seen it and formed your own opinions and if you still think Jones was poorly cast, THEN you can bitch.  But I doubt that anyone of you will be complaining much after….

thegaypumpingthroughyourveins  asked:

God, okay, but how about a vampire!Newt. Vampire!Newt who is so busy running around New York trying to catch the creatures who ran away and being dragged by Tina at the MACUSA and then everywhere and since he got to America he hasn't had a single chance to f e e d - and there comes the interrogation scene. Graves - the real Graves, mind you, fuck Grindelwald- and Newt are alone, and Newt tries to respond to Graves' questions but he hasn't fed in so long and there's this attractive man right -

right /there/ in front of him, and Newt can’t hold back -he just lunges.

Newt as a vampire. Newt as a vampire. That is indeed a very interesting thought.

It would happen… Where would it happen? Newt wasn’t born this way, he was turned for sure, but where? In St Petersburg, in the shadow of the Church of the Spilled Blood? The river runs close to the church, and the last time Newt saw that river through human eyes was in March when it was iced over and hidden under a dusting of snow. By the time he emerges, dazed, blinking, aching through every inch of his body, the ice has melted and the river runs freely. It’s been - what, five days? Five days. Summer comes quickly to Russia, but Newt’s last memories as a human were of the final threads of winter’s grip.

Or perhaps in China? The crowded streets of Macau, the busy press of people and sellers and shoppers - through the back of a medicine shop, down a narrow alley lined with dragons carved into the walls, out into a market where pixiu pups lean their paws against wire cages and howl at passers by, chained xiezhi are sold as guards for the wealthiest of patrons, bifangs perch on metal stakes and peck listlessly at the flames below.

It’s easy for a foreigner to disappear from the streets here, and easier when he won’t stop asking questions and working his way into places where he doesn’t belong. He remembers the fear of being surrounded, the patronising head shake when he takes out his wand, the grave-cold hand that clamped around his neck -

Ghana, maybe? The sun is strong in Ghana, too strong surely for a vampire to survive, but the forests are thick and deep and, yes, home to a type of vampire. They call it the asasabonsam, a creature with hooked iron claws in place of its feet. It hangs from the trees and falls on unsuspecting prey passing beneath; Newt was searching for anansi spiders and he dodged the first claw but the second sank into the meat of his shoulder and the curved iron hooked around his collar bone. His wand tumbled from blood-slicked fingers and the lumos at the tip stuttered and died.

Well. Maybe not Ghana; the vampire Newt becomes doesn’t have iron claws in place of his feet. I’m not entirely sure if asasabonsams even turn their victims, truth be told. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Newt’s a vampire now, fine. He needs a fix of blood every now and then - he’s not going to squeamish about it. He has places to go, creatures to meet, and if some of them shy away from him, that’s part of life. There are others that crowd close, winding around his legs and sheltering under the curve of the bat-like wings he sometimes sports.

It’s a very different menagerie that Newt brings with him to New York, hidden away in his impossible suitcase. Not completely different - Frank’s still there. Thunderbirds are powerful things, he won’t be deterred by the cold taint of darkness that flows from Newt’s shadow. And Pickett, Pickett stays; bowtruckles are well versed in carnivorous trees so he’ll hardly be fazed by a bit of blood. Besides, every plant understands the value of good fertilizer. But Susie the little feathered occamy hatching from her silver egg; she’ll be gone. Dougal, too, with a world of possibilities swirling in his eyes.

In their place, lethifolds ripple over the workshop floor, flowing up to drape themselves over Newt’s shoulders like a living cloak. Serpentine aspids coil at his feet, beaks dripping with lethal poison; huge dog-like pesanta wag their tails and rest their hole-ridden steel paws on his shoulders. Newt doesn’t sleep, so the Nachtalbs can’t feed off his nightmares - but they trail behind him anyway and huddle in his shadow for the cold and darkness it brings.

A different menagerie, perhaps, and when they creep and sneak and slide through the gaps and crevasses of New York they leave more behind them than plundered jewellery shops and escaped zoo animals.

But this is the same: Newt is taken for questioning. Tina doesn’t stand behind him, and Jacob isn’t left in the cell to await obliviation; this Newt ran the nights and not the days, and he never gained a group of hangers-on who would become his friends. There are no executors waiting by the door and Grindelwald doesn’t sit opposite him, wearing Graves’ face and twisting it with his hatred; it’s Graves, in this universe, and his face is bored and blankly dismissive.

It’s the dismissal, Newt thinks, that does it. He’s been brought here, abandoned in an auror holding cell for who knows how many hours while his creatures wreak havoc across the city, and he’s had the manners not to flit away through cracks in the stone and the gaps between the bars. The patience to wait, to not tear this shiny building down stone by polished stone - the man, Percival Graves (and in Newt’s mind he sneers the syllables with dismissal), he has Newt’s case. He has Newt’s creatures. So fine, Newt will play nice, keep his wings pressed tight against the bones of his spine and keep his teeth sheathed in his gums. He can pretend to be human and pretend to be weak if it will get them back. But to be dismissed? Few would dare, not to him.

“Are you aware how many laws you’ve broken by smuggling that case in?” Graves asks, flipping idly through a stack of papers.

Newt pauses in the doorway, tilting his head as though in thought. “It doesn’t bother me,” he finally says, and resumes his languid walk across the room. The metal door swings shut behind him with the inaudible click of spells locking into place. Newt ignores it; the door won’t hold him, and this close he can smell the tense wary what is he not human keep up your guard radiating off Graves. Not that the auror shows it; his hands are rock steady, the pulse beating in his throat slow and even.

He is, objectively, attractive. Magic coils beneath his skin and the taste of it is electric on the air, and that is attractive too. It’s been too long since Newt last fed, and longer still since he’s enjoyed it.

Keep reading

Directions - Norwegian vocabulary

retning (m) - direction
himmelretning (m) - cardinal direction
nord - north
nordover - north(wards)
sør/syd - south
sørover/sydover - south(wards)
øst - east
østover - east(wards)
vest - west
vestover - west(wards)
høyre - right
venstre - left
å ta til (høyre/venstre)… - to turn (right/left) (Ex. Ta til høyre ved skolen! - Turn right by the school!)
rett frem/fram - straight ahead
opp - up
ned - down
oppover - upwards
nedover - downwards
framover/fremover - forwards
bakover - backwards
bortover - along
mot - towards/against
i retning av - towards
til - to
fra - from
fram/frem og tilbake - back and forth
att og fram/frem - to and fro
å snu/å svinge - to turn


4

Title: Ride With Me - part three
Prompt: AU in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona to gain work experience. During her time on the ranch she develops a strong connection with a wrangler and horse trainer named Dean. A story about a cowboy who falls for the girl, a story about the importance of family.
Words: 4911 words
Characters: Dean, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Benny, Garth
Pairings: Dean x reader
Warnings: just language and little cuteness for this part, but further up fluff, angst, injury, maybe slightly smutish.
Author’s note: I love working on this! I’m a rider myself and it’s really great to use that in my writing. It’s nice not to write about supernatural creatures, hunts and death for a change. This is going to be a multiple part story (I’ve planned 14 parts) so get in the saddle and enjoy the ride!
Tags: @effie-w, @kbrand0, @drrubywatson (Want to get tagged whenever I post a story, or if I forgot you (sorry!), send me a message!)

Read part one and part two here!


Before the alarm even has the chance to awaken you from your restless sleep, you turn it off and rise from your bed. As you hop off the small mattress you hit your head against the upper bunk and let out a groan. Wonderful. Just what you need at 5.30 in the morning. You flick on the light, which stings your eyes the moment the rays hit them. For a second you glance around the ten by six room, of which most of the space is occupied by the two story bed and a closet. Oh well, at least there was no one using the upper bunk, that would have made the small space even more claustrophobic. 

With a deep breath you try to calm yourself down. Today is the first line of a new chapter in your life, the chapter in which you will prove to the world that you are not just some stuck up rich kid from upstate who is offered all life’s best opportunities by your parents. You do get everything you want, alright, because you work hard for it. You worked hard for your degree, you worked hard to become a pro reining rider. And now you will work hard shoveling horse shit. You are not a simpleton, you saw how interns were treated at the livery stable where you boarded your horse. They tend to end up with all the chores nobody else wants to do, the dirty jobs, the hard work. Even you have to admit that you might have used an intern to clean up your mess every now and then, and boy, do you regret it now. If karma exists, today it will bite you in the ass. 

Keep reading

We expected the caption to this photo to read: ‘Palestinian terrorist charges Israeli bulldozer with knife" but that must have seemed a little over the top even to the Guardian-UK. Yahoo might still try to pull it off.

What the caption does say is that the activist is running toward the bulldozer when the dust cloud clearly shows the damn thing is moving against him. That doesn’t require a dust pattern expert to detect. It describes this encounter as coming after the activist & fellow protesters tore down a section of the apartheid fence between Israel & Gaza. In one of its peculiar non sequiturs (trying to pack as many lies into one caption as it can), it says Israel has set up more military checkpoints in occupied East Jerusalem. Those alleged stabbers have the city on edge. And military occupation is calming who?

Along with the widespread military pogrom against Palestinians, there is a media onslaught to regain control of the narrative about Palestinians & apartheid Israel. BDS has made such significant inroads in the past ten years that over a million people marched in solidarity with Gaza during Israel’s carpet bombing siege in summer 2014 & tens of thousands are protesting now. Social media brings the Palestinian victims of Israeli ethnic cleansing up close & personal to millions.

This is a direct threat to the Israeli colonial project & must be forcefully countered because the military fortress called Israel is a lynchpin for US hegemony in the Middle East & in warding off democracy in the feudal & military regimes of the region. Mighty military forces stand arrayed against Palestinians.

So we can expect media to go whole-hog peddling Israeli propaganda as though it were the gospel truth. Media will overplay the drama, whipping up pro-Israel hysteria. There is no need to panic or be daunted because there’s nothing new about that. That’s what Palestinians have been up against for 67 years & it never stopped their resistance. It only means we need to be more assertive, creative, & consistent in building the boycott of Israel & active solidarity with Palestinians. Against the forces of tyranny, we array the international forces of solidarity.

Stand firm with the Palestinians & build the economic, cultural, & academic boycott of Israel & demand no aid of any kind to apartheid Israel.

(Photo by Mohammed Abed/AFP/Getty Images)