less than seven days of school

teamfreefuckery  asked:

Hi. Nice to meet you. Mayhaps you can write some fluffy Jamilton? Thank you!

Here you go!!!! I don’t know what to call this but??? Here’s is some nice Jam for you!!


He had a business meeting in about twenty minutes and he was a fifteen minute drive away from the office. That would normally be a distressing for Thomas but he had reached the point beyond stress. All he had been doing for the entire week was stressing about the new clients. He was done with stressing out. Today he was going to relax.

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IQBAL MASIH ladies and gentleman!

Iqbal Masih was born in 1983 in Muridke, a commercial city outside of Lahore in Punjab, Pakistan. At age four, he was sold into bondage by his family. Iqbal’s family borrowed 600 rupees (less than $6.00) from a local employer who owned a carpet weaving business, and in return, Iqbal was required to work as a carpet weaver until the debt was paid off. Every day, he would rise before dawn and make his way along dark country roads to the factory, where he and most of the other children were tightly bound with chains to prevent escape. He would work 12 hours a day, seven days a week, with only a 30-minute break, paid 3 cents a day for the loan, but no matter what Iqbal did the loan just got bigger and bigger. Iqbal stood less than 4 feet tall and weighed only 20 kg.

At the age of 10, Iqbal escaped his slavery, after learning that bonded labour was declared illegal by the Supreme Court of Pakistan. He was caught by police brought back to Arshad, who told the police to tie him upside down if he tried to escape again. Iqbal escaped a second time and he attended the Bonded Labour Liberation Front (BLLF) School for former child slaves and quickly completed a four year education in only two years. Iqbal helped over 3,000 Pakistani children that were in bonded labour to escape to freedom and made speeches about child labour throughout the world.

When Ehsan met Iqbal the boy was shy and afraid, but Khan realized he had many things to say.
He expressed a desire to become a lawyer to better equip him to free bonded labourers, and he began to visit other countries including Sweden and the United States to share his story, encouraging others to join the fight to eradicate child slavery. 

In 1994 he received the Reebok Human Rights Award in Boston and in his acceptance speech he said: “I am one of those millions of children who are suffering in Pakistan through bonded labour and child labour, but I am lucky that due to the efforts of Bonded Labour Liberation Front (BLLF), I go out in freedom I am standing in front of you here today. After my freedom, I join BLLF School and I am studying in that school now. For us slave children Ehsan Ullah Khan and BLLF have done the same work that Abraham Lincoln did for the slaves of America. Today, you are free and I am free too.”

Iqbal was fatally shot in Muridke on April 16, 1995, shortly after returning from a trip to the U.S. He was 12 years old at the time. Some say that he was shot by a farmer, some say that he was murdered because of his influence over bonded labour. His funeral was attended by approximately 800 mourners. The Little Hero: One Boy’s Fight for Freedom tells the story of his legacy.

  • Iqbal’s cause inspired the creation of organizations such as Free The Children, a Canada-based charity and youth movement, and the Iqbal Masih Shaheed Children Foundation, which has started over 20 schools in Pakistan.
  • In 1994, Iqbal visited Broad Meadows Middle School in Quincy, Massachusetts, and spoke to 7th graders about his life. When the students learned of his death, they decided to raise money and build a school in his honor in Kasur, Pakistan.
  • Iqbal’s story was depicted in a book entitled Iqbal by Francesco D'Adamo, a fictional story based on true events, from the point of view of a girl named Fatima.
  • In 1994 he got the Reebok Youth in Action Award.
  • In 1996 the Movimiento Cultural Cristiano  (MCC- Christian Cultural Movement) and Camino Juvenil Solidario (CJS- Youth Solidarity Path) promoted the 16 of April as International Day against Child Slavery in Spain and South America 
  • In 1998 the newly formed Istituto Comprensivo Iqbal Masih, a comprehensive education institute comprising several schools in Trieste, Italy, was named after him.
  • In 2000 he received a posthumous World’s Children’s Prize for the Rights of the Child and the Piazzale dei Traghetti Iqbal Masih was inaugurated in Genoa, Italy.
  • In 2009 the United States Congress established the annual Iqbal Masih Award for the Elimination of Child Labor.
  • 16 of April 2012 the Council of Santiago, after a proposal of Movimiento Cultural Cristiano, inaugurates a Square named after Iqbal inSantiago de Compostela, Spain.
  • The 2014 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to children’s rights advocate Kailash Satyarthi on grounds of prevention of child labour and female education. Satyarthi mentioned Masih in his Nobel Peace Prize award speech, dedicating it to him and other “martyrs”.  Iqbal a courageous boy from Pakistan by Jeanette Winter

‘’sentenced Shepherd to 10 years in prison, less 974 days for time served — leaving seven years and 121 days on his sentence’’

‘’An agreed statement of facts read in court painted the picture of a disaffected youth who bonded with his best friend, James Gamble, over a shared fascination with death and morbidity, particularly school shootings and mass murders.However, facts of the case showed that while Shepherd helped plan the attack, he intended to kill himself before the act, rather than to hurt people.“My last f–k you to the world isn’t going to be, like me taking part in any of this, my last f–k you to the world is not stopping it, standing back and let, someone else put Halifax on the map,” he said in a goodbye video he recorded two days before he was arrested. ‘’

‘’Shepherd was accused of being a “Columbiner”, someone who celebrated the attack on a Colorado school.’’

‘’Court heard how Shepherd and Gamble were best friends and bonded over heavy metal and thoughts of mass killings.’’

‘’Gamble had started online relationship with Souvannarath, who lives in Illinois. She agreed to join the plot. Souvannarath was arrested after she got off a plane. Shepherd had gone to the airport to pick her up’’

‘’Gamble planned to kill his parents before launching the massacre’’

‘’Shepherd and Gamble considered several targets including the new main public library. They settled on the mall because it would cause the most panic and gain them the most notoriety. They went to the mall to scooenit out and decided to begin the shooting in the food court. ’’

‘’Gamble was going to use his father’s shotgun and hunting rifle. They tried and failed to get other guns.They decided to use Molotov cocktails to increase the number of deaths. Shepherd agreed to supply bottles and gasoline. ‘’

‘’Shepherd told Gamble he couldn’t join him in the massacre because he didn’t want to hurt others. ‘’

They prepared videos to post on social media after the massacre to boast about what they had done.

‘’Crown says psychiatrist’s report raises questions about Shepherd’s future and whether therapy will work for him. Crown says offence has “rocked the community” and it has been an eye opener about disenfranchised youth. ‘’ 

The Problem

Written by Ajahni

I’m not quite sure what to do at this point, no matter how much I try to pretend that I do. I am black, I was born black, I will die black. My entire family, the people in my neighborhood, and the people in my school are black as well. I am surrounded by blackness, and I can almost guarantee that among all these people, no one knows what to do either. We all have the problem.

If you Google when the Civil Rights Movement started and ended, you will see 1955 to 1968 as your answer. But anyone who has access to a television, phone or computer knows that the conditions this year have not been much different than the conditions back then. Students are still protesting for their freedom on campus, we are still marching for equality, we are still being killed and walked over and falsely incriminated. We are still at war with the police, at war with the government, at war with this nation called America that was built on the very ideals of genocide, inequality, white supremacy and injustice.

If you’ve been paying attention and if you have a brain and a heart (and a basic sense of human rights), you know how I feel. You know the knot that starts to form in my stomach when I see and hear the words “the grand jury fails to indict police officer involved in shooting of [insert name of black person]”. Any onlooker can examine the conditions in this country, the rampancy of systemic racism, and feel sorrow. You can feel anger and shock toward the fact that not only are people being murdered by those who are supposed to protect them, but the so-called justice system calls it okay. Yeah, you can feel that.

But it’s different when you’re black, and that’s the problem.

When you’re black, you are watching your brothers and sisters fall. There is an unexplainable connection that makes it harder to watch, harder to bear. When you’re black, a piece of you dies every time they do. When you’re black, you don’t just see the name on the news or the name that follows the hashtag. You see the black people who’ve been killed all year and last year, the black people who’ve been beaten, the black people who our prisons are filled with, the black people who picked cotton, the black people who were whipped, the black people who were hanging from trees like strange fruit. You see your ancestors and you feel their pain. You realize how long this has been happening and how long your people have been bearing this burden, and you want it to stop.

I want it to stop, and I was born with the mindset that I can make anything happen if I want it to. But I swear, I don’t know how to make this stop.

The problem is that we are not surprised when justice is not served, and we cannot stop it. Our reaction is always “this is unfortunate, but unsurprising, and I wish I could do something, but I don’t know what.” And that’s the problem.

@sageaflocka on Instagram posted something about a meetup taking place in Washington Square Park in regards to Tamir Rice. I live here in New York; I was in the mall with my mom at the time when I saw the post, and I told her about it. I knew what her response would be when I told her: “Why are they going to the park? To protest? For what? It’s just going to keep happening.” You can read those words and be outraged; I used to be puzzled that my mother could ever say such a thing, but after time and time again, I began to understand where she was coming from. The thought could cross anyone’s mind; what’s the point of protesting if it’s just going to keep happening?

To that, you could respond: well if we don’t protest, what are we supposed to do? Neither of you know the answer, and that’s the problem.

I think we should protest. I think we should shut the city down. But it’s not about what I think, it’s about what I do. And I have no idea what to do. I have no idea how to approach it in a way that hasn’t been done before, in a way that will get the message across and make a permanent change. I feel helpless. Worthless. Incapable.

When I first saw Sandra Bland’s mugshot, I got a very bad feeling in my chest. My breathing was uneven and it was hard to focus my mind on anything around me. In the days that followed, I could not get that image of her out of my mind. I could not turn the lights off in any room because I felt that image haunting me. I could not wash my face for more than ten seconds because every time I closed my eyes to splash water onto my skin, I saw the image etched into my brain. My parents would go to work and leave me home with my grandmother and I couldn’t find the words to beg them to stay, because I didn’t know how to tell them that this image was driving me crazy. I had my first anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep. This was in the summer, and I remember wishing that I had school so that I had something to do during the day, something to take my mind off of her.

One of the most beautiful things in life to me has always been pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood. I looked forward to the honor. But when I heard about Tamir Rice, I questioned whether I wanted to bring another black child into a world that didn’t want them. Into a world that would shoot them in less than two seconds.

In seven days I’ll be turning 15, and these are the things I think about, the feelings I have. These are the experiences that come with being a black child in America.

I started this magazine for people of color, and when I heard about the threats at Mizzou I started making plans to organize a black activism group in 2016. I realized that I needed to take action, I needed to change what I was seeing. I’m doing all these things to facilitate a change and to raise awareness.

Raising awareness is important to me, yes. But so many people are already aware. We already know it’s happening, and we’re doing things to stop it, but it has not stopped. And I don’t know what else to do.

So this is my apology. To all the black people who have died at the hands of police and in the name of racism, to all the black families who won’t enjoy the holidays with their loved one, to all the black people who will suffer this same fate again, to Tamir Rice and to Sandra Bland, I’m sorry. If I could fix it, if I could make it right, I would.

But I don’t know how. And that’s the problem.

Fangirls

Here’s another one, because… well, did I mention I’m a shipping trash? This time is longer.

Fangirls
Category: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug y Chat Noir
Genre: Comedy, Romance.
Rated: K
Words: 1519
Paring: Adrinette, LadyNoir
One-shot
Link to fanfiction

The first time it happened, she thought it was funny. The Akuma of the day turned out to be a grumpy school bus driver who kidnapped nothing less than seven school busses before Ladybug and Chat Noir could put an end to it.

Of course, instead of being scared, the kids had been elated for meeting their heroes and being able to be close to them. They all asked for photos and autographs.

Actually, she didn’t know why she took notice of it, or even less, why she had rolled her eyes with something close to disdain. She had been signing with her characteristic ladybug scribble a photo a little girl had put in front of her when she looked up and saw that some of the older girls – about twelve or thirteen years old – were taking turns to take selfies with her partner.

They were delighted, blushing and giggling like idiots while hugging him tighter than necessary for just a picture. And Chat Noir, flirtatious Chat Noir seemed completely oblivious to their intentions. He was just there, naïvely smiling and posing to the camera.

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For Felicity, Forever Ago

World famous musician, Oliver Queen, declares his love for his childhood best friend in an album named after her. AO3.

I honestly thought I’d posted this months ago! I’m such a mess. I hope you like it anyway.


It’s a love letter. From start to finish, every word, every chord is a promise, a declaration. For her, to her. Songs she knows from her childhood, remembers him singing, fingers lazily moving against the strings of his guitar. And ones she’s never heard before, filled with things she spent many an adolescent night dreaming he’d say.

It’s a story, the progression of his feelings laid out before her, before the world, open and raw and painful. She’s crying by the second song, sobbing by the fifth, and left dazed as the final notes draw to a close. And in the silence that follows, his words remain loud in her head. Hope and regret at war in her heart.

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True Feelings [Jungkook Angst / Fluff]

Words: 2567

Genre: Angst / Fluff

Summary: He foolishly chose a mere feeling he had for a girl who told him that she liked him over a relationship with a girl who proved she loved him that was built over years.


“Who?” You almost choked when you heard your friend’s confession but you took a deep breath, calming yourself down to hear her out. In a softer and calmer voice, you repeated your question. “The boy you like is?”

She sighed, wondering why you had to ask again when she was sure that she had already said very clearly - “Jeon Jungkook”. Refusing to repeat her answer, she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed you, suspecting that you weren’t happy about her having a crush on your best friend.

Trying to hide the fact that you were against the two of them getting together, you plastered a wide grin on your face as you patted her on the back. “Nice choice. Good luck then.” And with that hundred-percent-fake encouragement and equally forced expression, you finished up your food and left the table hurriedly, getting away from that situation as fast as possible.

School was tiring and the whole thing about your best friend having an admirer made your entire mood even worse. It was the fear of losing him and the nagging thought that you would have to spend the rest of your life alone that made you so against the possibility that they would get together. Perhaps a tinge of jealousy, in fact, a large flood of jealousy that you tried your best to hide.

Jungkook saw you waiting for him at the school gate and he broke into a smile as he jogged towards you. “_______~” He sang and you didn’t really know how to respond as too many thoughts were occupying your mind. “You seem as if you have a lot going on there,” He teased as he flicked your forehead lightly causing you to wince, jabbing him in the sides as payback.

“Yes I do, so don’t be a bother.” You hated to be snappy and you didn’t know why either, but just seeing his smiling face made you wonder whether he would start showing it to her instead of you and it made you frustrated.

“Me? A bother?” Jungkook gasped as he pointed to himself. “Did you fail your test or something? Oh, is it the time of the month-”

“It isn’t. I just heard about something from someone and I don’t like what I hear.”

He found you childish and snickered, putting an arm around your shoulder. “But don’t take it out on me okay? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nodding but without meaning it, you picked up your pace and didn’t take a second glance at Jungkook who was still confused and trying to guess exactly what was going on.

You didn’t do anything wrong. But if you become her boyfriend, I swear, you will.


A few days passed and you didn’t think much about the whole “Jungkook might ditch me” thing anymore because you told yourself that he probably wouldn’t leave his closest childhood friend for a girl he barely knew but ‘loved’. You could say that you were confident in yourself and that you trusted him and so there really wasn’t any need to worry.

But maybe you shouldn’t have had so much faith in him. If you had kept him closer to you, then things might not have changed for the worse.

Walking out of your classroom, you frowned when Jungkook wasn’t waiting for you outside like he normally did. His class was over, you knew as his friends were already making their way to the cafeteria but he wasn’t with any of them. He probably went to the toilet. After checking around one last time, you decided to buy food for the both of you before the queue turned into a snake.

You stood in line patiently, foot tapping habitually to no particular rhythm but stopped when you heard laughter from behind. It was Jungkook’s voice, you could tell, but there was a girl’s laughter as well and you didn’t remember knowing of him being close to any female other than you. You couldn’t help but feel curious and so you turned around and they were the first people you saw. And oh, how your stomach twisted and your teeth clenched when you found out that he was with your friend, the one who had a crush on him.

Her cheeks were bright red and her hand covered her mouth as she laughed a laugh that irked you so much. What’s there to blush about? It’s just Jungkook. You mock but soon realise that you had just answered your own question. It’s Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook, the boy who caught your attention ever since you were four years old in Kindergarten, the boy who got your heart all fluttery when he held your hand when you were seven in Primary School and the boy you told yourself that you loved as a friend.

Then why were you feeling so jealous and so annoyed? You had him to yourself for more than ten years but less than an hour with another girl got you all angry and feeling betrayed. Calming down, you turned back around and told yourself not to get worked up. Cause at the end of the day, he was still going to be your best friend, wasn’t he?


The bell rang and you covered your ears, wondering why they made the volume so loud and why there was a need for a bell in the first place since the students already had their own watch alarms set to ring once school was over. Slinging your bag around your neck, you pushed your chair under the table and left the classroom, trying your best to keep in the millions of questions you had for your best friend who was probably standing by the gate, waiting for you like always.

You reached there and looked around, trying to spot the boy but like before, you couldn’t. Why is it so hard to find him today? He’s not doing what he always does. Several minutes passed and you saw your bus just outside by the road. Where is he? The bus driver signaled for you to get on and you held up a hand, asking him to wait for just a few more seconds as you scanned your surroundings once more but he wasn’t in sight. You gave up and got onto the bus, sitting in your usual seat, but all alone this time. Looking out of the window, you imagined Jungkook running towards the bus all sweaty and panicking but that didn’t happen. Instead, what you saw was him strolling out of the school with her, hands so close until they were almost touching and you closed your eyes, hugging your bag tightly as you held in the tears that were threatening to fall. So he was with her.

The special routine you shared with Jungkook got destroyed by the new person in his life and you could do nothing about it. Or maybe you could. Maybe you could be shameless and butt into their conversations, sit with them during break time or tag along to wherever they went but you didn’t want to. Perhaps you were too proud, perhaps you wanted Jungkook to know that you could do fine without him and you wanted to see him regret as you drifted further from him. You didn’t know what exactly you wanted. All you knew was that the relationship, the title of ‘best friend’ and the bond and connection you two had been broken.

Jungkook could tell. His messages weren’t to you anymore and he barely saw or talked to you in school. You were with your group of friends, with other boys who had never been as special as him but it seemed as if you like them more now. You seemed normal, as if nothing had happened and he didn’t know why, but he felt hurt that you didn’t show a single sign of hurt. It wasn’t that he wanted you to feel hurt, but he secretly wanted to know that you missed him and he wasn’t getting that at all.

After a week of complete breaking of ties and zero interaction, he decided to say a word to you.

“__________!” He called and the way your name left his lips felt so familiar, like something forgotten being restored again and he liked it. Hearing him, you turned around, gaze meeting his. You nodded simply and your insincere action ruined his entire hope of a proper conversation and a restored friendship. His mouth opened to say another word but you had already turned your back on him, walking a little faster to catch up with your friends who were ahead of you.

Deep down, you weren’t as heartless as you seemed. You wanted to call his name too, smile and hug him like you always did but you just couldn’t because you knew that after that happened, he would go back to her anyway and you would be left alone again. To put it simply, you had been left once and you didn’t trust him anymore.

But Jungkook wasn’t going to give up. He ran and grabbed your hand, turning you around and you were shocked. “I didn’t even have a chance to say something,” Jungkook said softly and you pulled your hand away.

“I thought you were saying hi.”

“When have we ever said nothing else but a hi?” The boy’s voice cracked and you smiled sadly, gaze diverting away and onto the ground.

“We have done worse. We have ignored each other for a full week,” you whisper and his eyes widened, heart breaking when he knew that it was the truth. “You remember that time I was acting all moody?” You continued and he nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. “It was because she told me that she liked you and I was scared that you would leave me. You remember saying that you did nothing wrong?” Jungkook nodded again and you were glad that he remembered.

“You’ve betrayed me, left me all alone for some girl who has a crush on you. Nothing wrong?” He felt a pang of guilt hit him as your last sentence came out in such a broken, hurt tone and he wished that he could turn back time and make things right again.

“You did everything a best friend shouldn’t do.”


Jungkook regretted. He foolishly chose a mere feeling he had for a girl who told him that she liked him over a relationship with a girl who proved she loved him that was built over years. The way you turned away when he called your name and the way you pulled your hand away was something he could never forget, simply because it hurt so much. Your shaky voice and the disappointed look in your eyes as you honestly pointed out to him that he threw you to one side made him feel horrible and he asked himself - Was this really the end of your friendship?

An image of the girl he left you for flashed into his mind and he remembered how she always dressed her best, how she skillfully touched up her face with makeup and style her hair. Then he thought of you, how your hair looked like a bush after a storm, the baggy shirt you wore to sleep and the cute frown on your face when he told you that it was time to wake up and he realised something.

He loved you.

Jungkook loved your morning whining more than her sweetest voice, your carelessly sprouted comments more than her constant compliments, your merciless tickling more than her soft hands and your pyjamas more than her fanciest dress. He looked forward to seeing you rush out of the classroom during break time and seeing your bright smile when school ended. He missed the way you wrapped your arms around him during a hug and ruffle his hair, telling him that you would always be there for him during hard times.

The teacher noticed her student lost in his thoughts and she tapped him. “Do you need to wash your face?” She asked and he nodded, wanting to get out of class to sort out his thoughts. His classmates snickered slightly but he couldn’t care less because all he was thinking about was how to get you back.

As for you, you were almost dozing off, History class boring the life out of you. Raising your hand, you asked your teacher politely whether you could go to the washroom and he nodded before continuing his storytelling. The moment you stepped out of class, you sighed, swinging your arms to loosen them as you walked to the washroom. Suddenly, you felt your hand hit someone and you turned around, bowing immediately.

“I’m sorry-”

“__________,” Jungkook called and you froze, wondering why you had to hit him out of all people.

“I’m urgent,” You coughed up and excuse and tried to walk away but he put his hand on your shoulder.

“You always hop around when you are.” He pointed out and you had nothing to say. “Stop trying to run away from me…it hurts.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him in the eye. “Says you, the one who runs away and leaves the fastest. So what you did didn’t hurt me?” Jungkook looks away and his hand falls to his side.

“I know it did and I’m sorry. I know your trust in me is probably broken-”

“It is,” You corrected and he nodded.

“I lost your trust and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get it back.” He finished and you doubted it.

“What about her? Are you going to leave her all of a sudden like how you left me?”

“But what am I supposed to do? I realised that I love you so much. How can I carry on with someone I don’t love when you are right in front of my eyes?” And that causes your heart to beat faster than ever, your mouth to open slightly as you cannot find the words to reply to his sudden confession. “That’s right. During class, I was just thinking about her and all the amazing things about her but you came into my mind, all your embarrassing habits and crazy personality.”

You blushed, avoiding his gaze as you wanted to run away from him and back to class but he pulled you into a hug all of a sudden and whispered in your ear, “And I know for sure that I love you and that I need to do all it takes to get you back.”

All the anger seemed to have left you and all you felt was love, a bond between you and him so strong, even stronger than the relationship of a close friend. “You can’t change your mind,” You finally spoke and he chuckled, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll make it impossible for you to,” you joked and he sighed, cupping your face with his hands.

“With this smile of yours,” he then points to your head, “this mind of yours” and finally to your heart, “and this heart of yours, you already made it impossible for me to live without you.”  

You smiled, pinching his cheeks as you finally said the words you’ve been wanting to say for the longest time.

“I love you so much.”

Nicholas Navarro for @dstarsims​‘s Angelo Murder Mystery Bachelor Challenge.

Name: Nicholas “Nico” Navarro
Age: 25
Education: College dropout.
Occupaton: Officially Nico works as a personal assistant for his wealthy uncle Hector Navarro, but in reality he and his brother are being groomed to someday take over the family’s vast criminal empire.
Sexuality/Gender Preference: Bisexual.
Dating History: Nico has only had one serious romantic relationship before, but the heartbreak that followed it was more than enough to disillusion him about love. They dated for three years in college, but less than a month before their wedding his then fiancée dumped him and abruptly transferred to a university on the other side of the country. Shattered by her callous rejection and despondent over losing the love of his life, Nicholas dropped out of school and swore off intimacy and romance, and to this day he remains stubbornly and defiantly single.
Family: Nico never knew his father, but he has a mother, a brother (younger by one year), a half-sister (younger by seven years), five aunts, four uncles, and an exorbitant number of cousins and other relatives.
Hobbies: Extroverted and outgoing, Nico primarily spends his leisure time in the company of his family and friends, but he’s also a skilled swimmer and loves boating, fishing, scuba diving, kayaking, snorkeling, and pretty much anything else that involves being in and around water.
Habits: Stealing. Gambling. Fighting. Drinking. Swearing. He does not, however, do drugs, smoke cigarettes, or sleep around.
Living: Nicholas grew up in São Paten, but now that he works for his uncle he splits his time between the South American city and his family’s estate in the suburbs of Bridgeport. During the summer months Nico and his relatives typically spend several weeks vacationing in the tropical archipelago of islands known colloquially as Las Islas del Paraíso.
Pets: None, although he adores dogs and would very much like to adopt a Labrador Retriever someday when he finally settles down and stops traveling so much.
Why are you here?: Although Nico would say “to find true love and start a family of my own”, in reality he has gotten himself into a tiny little bitty spot of legal trouble and needs to disappear for a while until his uncle’s lawyers can hopefully reach a financial settlement with the injured party out of court.

Brave | Family Oriented | Friendly | Kleptomaniac | Unflirty

Private Download

change.org
Southwest Senior High School: Do Not Lengthen School Day

Southwest High School in Minneapolis, Minnesota is planning on adding 30 minutes to the beginning of the day for the 2015-2016 school year (8:00 instead of 8:30). Adding extra time to the school day is unnecessary to the education of Southwest High School students.  Students already stay up very late studying and doing homework and waking up 30 minutes earlier to add approximately 2 minutes to each class is pointless.  At this age adolescents require at least 9-10 hours of sleep to properly learn and create memories. Over 58 percent of 15- to 17-year-olds regularly sleep fewer than seven hours each night and chronic sleep loss contributes to higher rates of depression, suicidal thoughts, and obesity. It’s not fair to expect students to get proper sleep when you add an extra 30 minutes of school to their already hectic schedule.  At a school that has a reputation of ambitious students with good work habits, and an already fully functioning 7-period day, it seems redundant that students have less time to work and sleep.  This change also calls into question how students who rely on the city bus system will get to school on time.  Our school does not have a school bus system and some students this year spend up to an hour on the city bus to get to school.  Also, the extra time will make students less inclined to participate in extracurriculars and zero-hours such as choir, theory of knowledge, National Honors Society, etc. which will affect the colorful culture that makes Southwest special.  Please (anyone!) take the time to sign this petition if you believe that school should not jeopardize students’ sleep, extracurricular participation, and mental health just to add 2-3 minutes to each class.  

I ended up watching Jersey Girl last night and kind of got inspired. Oops. If this is too long I’ll put it under a cut, just let me know.


“Lillian!” Liam yelled as he entered his home after a long day at the office. His job was great, put money in his pocket and food on the table every night. Another upside, he was able to be home each night to cook dinner and tuck his little girl in to bed every night. “Lillian! I’m home!”

 Liam heard whispered giggles coming from upstairs and remembered that Lillian had a scheduled play date today. His mum had volunteered to pick her up from school and take her home, monitor the play date, including finishing homework before any actual playing began. He dropped his briefcase on the side table closest to him and toed off his loafers. He loved his job but could do without the uniform. Stuffy suits and ties were not ideal, it beat his old job though, the local garbage man. It too had its perks but wasn’t Liam’s dream goal. A goal that got a little sidetracked when Lillian came into his life a little over seven years ago. He had just turned eighteen, about to start his first year of uni when his summer hookup, Sophia, broke the news to him. She was pregnant and keeping it. Gobsmacked is the only word Liam could use to describe how he felt at that moment. In a blink of an eye he saw his entire future vanish. He was going to help Sophia every step of the way because he wanted to, not because he needed to. Liam Payne at eighteen was many things but a deadbeat dad was not one of them. He lucked out, his parents were more than willing to step in when things got too tough, after they got over their initial shock of it all. Sophia never had to ask for anything, whatever she needed was always given to her. Her life was being turned upside down as well. Christmas Eve that year they married in a small ceremony at the local church. Sophia didn’t want anything massive, just close family and a few friends. 

On the fifth of May, Lillian Karen Payne was born and Liam’s life changed forever, in more ways than one. There were complications during the delivery, Sophia’s heart wasn’t strong enough or that’s what the doctors told Liam as they were pushing him out of the delivery room. In another blink of an eye Liam became a father and a widower all at once. He had so many emotions running through him. Overjoyed about the birth of his daughter and utterly distraught over the loss of his wife. He was inconsolable, not wanting to see or talk to anyone. Looking at Lillian hurt him the most. She looked just like her mother, tons of brown hair and big brown eyes that just kept staring up at him in wonder. For the first month of her life, Liam refused to even hold her. It just hurt too much. It was supposed to be them against the world but it was all too much. His family and even Sophia’s mum stepped in and took over, looking after Lillian and Liam every day. In July Liam’s mum had had enough, enough of walking on eggshells around her son. She yelled at him, gave him a talking to that was weeks in the making. Liam’s life was turned upside down, that was a given, but that didn’t give him the right to do that to everyone else’s life. They’d been more than generous in helping him now it was his turn to return the favor and actually become the father he intended to be. 

Over the years things weren’t perfect, no one has a handbook on how to be a single father while still being a teenager. He grieved for his wife every time Lillian did something new, her first word, when she started to crawl and eventually walk and run around. All these firsts were supposed to be experienced as a family. It did get easier though, the pain never went away but it was no longer a constant agony burning in his chest. Liam may be biased but Lillian was probably the best kid to ever have been born. She never fussed or threw temper tantrums, well, not often. After Lillian’s first birthday he moved back into his parents home, they wanted them closer and Liam wasn’t going to argue with that or them. He started uni at the local school up in Wolverhampton while working as the local garage man at nights. It was time consuming and tiresome but more than worth it. His parents had really stepped up and Sophia’s folks came by whenever their time let him. Lillian was filled with an over abundance of love. After four grueling years of school, Liam had graduated top of class and with honors. When he walked the stage to receive his diploma his daughters cheers were the loudest out of the whole noisy room. He was more than proud of himself. 

He landed his job months after graduating, a financial adviser to one of the many tech companies popping up all over Wolverhampton. They were gracious and kind, understanding of Liam’s situation. He was able to drop Lillian off at school and be home in time to feed and bathe her before tucking her in each time. He was also able to afford his own place, mere blocks away from his parents. They stopped by less as time progressed but still were willing to step in and take over the reins when things got overwhelming for Liam. His mum picked Lillian up every day she didn’t after afternoon footie practice, dance class, or a play date. At seven his daughter had a better social life than her father, she always had something she was scheduled to do on the weekend or after school. Liam was lucky he even had friends, if coworkers even counted as friends. And don’t even get him started on the last time he had been on a date. Come to think of it he hasn’t been out with anyone since Sophia died. 

 "Hey mum,“ he greeted her warmly with a kiss on her forehead. "How was Lill today at school?”

“Passed her maths test,” Karen boasted proudly. “Only one in her class to get a perfect score.”

“I told you, my baby is a genius,” he joked, sitting across from his mother at the small kitchen table. “Who’s upstairs with her today? I can’t keep her schedule straight nowadays.”

“Nasir Malik,” Karen rattled off like she was her granddaughter’s walking calendar. 

Liam picked at the tablecloth and he tried to rattle his brain. That name didn’t sound familiar, his daughter had too many friends to keep track of. “Who?”

“Nasir Malik,” she repeated in a huff. “New boy. He moved here about a month ago.”

“My daughter is upstairs alone with a boy!” He shrieked and stood up fast. “Mum! H-why did you okay that idea?”

“Liam,” she chided her son. “Be rational and reasonable. They’re seven, what harm are they going to cause?”

Liam raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I was seven once, I know how seven year old boys think.”

Liam continued to shake his head and his made his way up the stairs and towards his daughter’s room. The door was closed and giggling could still be heard. Uh oh. This was not ideal, not ideal at all. He kept creeping forward, hoping neither children could hear him approaching. He put his hand on the door handle and let out a calming breath. Whatever was on the opposite side of the door wasn’t going to get the better of him, hopefully. 

“Oh my god!”

“Daddy!” Lillian screamed once her father swung the door open. 

Standing in front of Liam was a seven year old boy with his pants around his knees. His daughter was sitting in front of Nasir, her eyes wide and quizzical, that’s when she looked like Sophia the most. No. Memories were not going to sidetrack him from his. “Lillian Karen Payne!”

“Daddy,” she repeated, still shocked. “Nasir’s thing doesn’t look like yours.”

Liam let out a breath, trying not laugh at his little girls innocence and trying to calm his now boiling blood. “Young man, pull up your pants and I want both of you downstairs now!”

Minutes later both kids sat in front of him on the couch as he sat on the coffee table. He ran downstairs and dismissed his mother after telling her what happened. Karen tried to control her laughter as she left, patting her sons cheeks as she departed. Now Liam had to talk to these kids without being embarrassed himself. He had just caught a seven year old boy with his pants down around his daughter. This definitely wasn’t in the parents handbook he still desperately needed. 

“What are you intentions with my daughter?” He asked Nasir. He tried to keep a straight and stern face but the poor kid looked he was going to piss his pants. 

“Huh?” Nasir asked, looking up at Liam through his long lashes. 

“Daddy!” Lillian exclaimed in embarrassment. “Stop!”

“Young man, what you did was not appropriate, not now, not ever,” Liam scolded him. “I’m going to have to talk to your parents.”

“No, don’t,” he begged, his bottom lip quivering in fear. “Please. My abbu will kill me. Please Mr. Payne, you can’t tell him.”

Liam stood up and nodded his head firmly. “I’m going to need to speak to him son, sorry.”

Waiting for Nasir’s father to arrive was tense. Both kids remained in the living room, sitting on the couch where Liam could keep a close eye on them. Pacing back and forth to look menacing, when in reality he had no idea what he was doing. Mr. Malik had answered the phone and laughed when Liam relayed the story, promising to come by as soon as possible. Five minutes after they phone was hung up Mr. Malik arrived and knocked the breath out of him. He was absolutely gorgeous. He now knew where Nasir got his eyelashes from. He introduced himself as Zayn. He didn’t look much older than Liam was, another young parent in the mix. 

“Sorry,” Zayn apologized as soon as he arrived. “I don’t know where he got this idea from.”

“It’s okay,” Liam assured him. “I’m raising Lillian alone so I don’t even know the protocol for all this.”

“Same,” Zayn replied. “Since he was three it’s just me and Nasir, raising a child all alone should come with a pamphlet.”

Liam’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes got wide instantly. A young parent and also a single parent? Things were certainly looking up for Liam today. He sighed to try and compose himself as he kept looking at the kids who still sat on the couch looking sad and obviously regretting their decisions. “I say that all the time to me mum. Try raising a little girl all alone, even harder.”

“They’re kids,” Zayn reasoned with Liam and he leaned against the refrigerator. He limbs looking longer as he reclined a little. Dark ink peeking out from under his shirtsleeves and his collar. A nose ring shining against the dull kitchen light. “Things like this are bound to happen I guess.”

Liam shrugged, unable to form words due to his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth and his throat feeling dry. “I-I guess.”

Zayn pushed himself off the fridge and shoved his hands in his frayed jeans. “We should do this again?”

“This?” Liam squawked. “Our kids with their pants down, again?”

“No,” Zayn laughed, his tongue pressed behind his teeth, laugh lines by his eyes. Truly adorable. “A play date but with both of us monitoring the rascals.”

“Yea-yeah,” Liam agreed rather quickly. If he had any pride left he would’ve been embarrassed by how quickly he agreed to Zayn’s offer. 

“Good,” Zayn nodded and walked towards the living room and his son. “Come in Nasir, time to go home. Say goodbye to Lillian and Mr. Payne.”

“Bye,” he said to them, how voice low and his head hung in shame. “See you at school tomorrow Lillian.”

“Bye Nasir,” she told him, her voice echoing the little boys. Clearly they both had learned some sort of lesson from today’s events. 

Liam let Zayn and Nasir out, not even caring how obvious he was being as he obviously checked Zayn out as he walked away and towards his car. He didn’t even mind that Zayn turned his head around and winked in Liam’s direction before turning the corner with his son in tow. 

anonymous asked:

This is a prompt, so basically Roxy's parents are dead and percival is given guardianship. He's doesn't know anything about children or what to do with them, and James steps in and helps. I just thought this would be really cute and it's been stuck in my head all day.

((Since I’m drabbling lately I’m just going to drabble this! I meant to write more drabbles tonight but…I started the next chapter of Bon Appetit instead))

Prompt fills will be collected on AO3 Here.


Inheriting a seven year old was trying. It’s not that she was a bad seven year old, and thank god she wasn’t a perfect little doll. No, by the time Roxy had shown up with the lawyer (complete with her suitcase and a ratty stuffed dog that he’d given her for her first birthday) Roxy had faced enough in her short life to be her own self. 

She was quiet until she got to know people, hesitant to trust in case they abandoned her, but she was sure of herself. She brushed her own teeth, got out her own outfits (and after the first time of telling her that maybe fuchsia with red he’d learned to just stay out of it), and got out her own cereal. She liked being neat, liked being on time, and most of the day time it almost felt like he had a talking dog or miniature adult around.

But anywhere from five to sixty minutes a day his flat was filled with enough screaming, crying, and glass shattering that they’d had two official complaints filed on them in a month, and one threat to call the police.

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