or: how i learned to stop worrying and love the bomb

10

The Films of Stanley Kubrick:

Mr. President, I’m not saying we wouldn’t get our hair mussed. But I do say no more than ten to twenty million killed, tops. Uh, depending on the breaks.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb // 1964

7

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) dir. Stanley Kubrick

“Okay, I’ll get your money for you. But if you don’t get the President on that phone you’ll have to answer to the Coca-Cola Company.”

'Logan' Breakout Dafne Keen on Audition Embarrassment and Her X-23 Future

1. She comes from a film-friendly family. Keen is the daughter of British actor Will Keen (The Crown, Wolf Hall) and Spanish actress Maria Fernandez Ache, with multiple directors and writers in her extended family. “I remember spending entire school holidays in rehearsing spaces, watching my mum and dad working, and followed them around on tour or on film sets all the time,” she tells Heat Vision. “I went to see Hamlet, which they directed about 10 times, and I always loved it. I remember I used to listen to the actors rehearsing and try to remember all their lines while I played with the color filters they put in the lights.” From her parents, she says, she’s learned about “being truthful, and the most important thing being telling the story, and all working together for the same thing. I love that.” (x)

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BTS Single Parent AU

kookies-and-myrok asked: Hello, sweets! I love your writing and I’m not just saying that Lol i always get excited when you post smt, anyways do you write parent au’s? If you do can I get a BTS reaction about what they would be like as a single parent? If not then its okay! Keep up the great work 💜

This doesn’t necessarily work as a reaction, but I can do a little like… bullet drabble or whatever on this. Either way, very doable. - Admin Dayna


Seokjin

There’s like… this anime called Amaama to Inazuma (a.k.a. Sweetness and Lightning) which is basically about a single father who raises his daughter to the best of his abilities but he can’t cook as well as his wife (who passed away). I see Single Parent!Jin being like that… except in Jin’s case he can actually throw down in a kitchen

  • Lots of love and affection
  • Smothers his baby girl with kisses before dropping her off to daycare and after picking her up
  • The daycare moms thirst after him bOI
  • His cookies sold out the fastest at the school bakery
  • Partially because Daycare Moms are trying to give him the succ
  • Mainly because his cookies are bomb asf
  • He got hoes
  • Reads/sings his daughter to sleep at night religiously
  • Chocolate covered Strawberries while they watch cartoons together
  • Shed a single tear in the beginning of Finding Nemo evRYTIM
  • Was literally floating on air for like a month because his daughter told him he was the “handsomest appa”
  • Tries really hard to scold his baby girl
  • Can’t look her in the face when he does it because she’s too damn cute
  • Puppy Dog Eyes work every once in a while tbh
  • Will cAUSE A FUCKING SCENE IF HE EVER HEARD SOMEONE WAS BULLYING HIS CHILD
  • Dad jokes, fucking duh.

Originally posted by meganhyunhee

Yoongi

Picture this: Yoongi is chilling, right? Lounging on the sofa, watching some psychological mystery film or whatever emo shit he watches. His face is pretty indifferent. He’s unbothered asf. His right arm is covered in scribbles and squiggles. His 7 year old son is currently surrounded by markers, casually doodling on his dad’s arm.

  • Lets his son choose whatever toys he wants
  • If his baby boy wants a nerf gun, he’ll get a nerf gun.
  • If his baby boy wants a fucking bubblegum pink barbie jeep atv, he’s getting a fucking bubblegum pink barbie jeep atv.
  • Also lets his kid wear whatever he wants
  • Supports the creative and imaginative endeavors of his child
  • Does not support coloRING ON THE WALL YOU LIL DEMON BABY
  • Sometimes stares at his child and thinks “whose mans is this?”
  • Also looks at his child and thinks “that’s the love of my life”.
  • One time considered redecorating his closet just so that he can hang a bunch of mirrors on the wall so that whenever his child does something stupid, he can sit him in that closet and close the door so that he can look at his reflection and reevaluate his 7 years long life.
  • All in all he’s a super supportive daddio.
  • He’s not like the other dads.
  • He’s a Cool Dad™

Originally posted by exoticmaknae

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Always

For @ransomweek - March 28: “Remember that time…”

warnings: senior year nostalgia, oblivious pining, excessively soft bromance


“Okay,” Lardo said, taking another swig from the bottle of gin they’d been passing around. “Worst class you’ve ever taken?”

The noise of another kegster, not their last together but frighteningly close to it, thrummed through the floor of the attic. Sometime after midnight Nursey and Chowder had started trying to go through various Haus rules, proper kegstand procedure and ratios for tub juice, with the Tadpoles like Holster and Ransom had done for the past two years, and Ransom had found himself hit with senior-year nostalgia again. It was the kind of weird, happy-sad ache that pulled from under his ribs and made him want to hold onto everything tighter.

He was going to graduate in May. He’d been accepted to med programs at Emory and UPenn, and he was waiting to hear back from a couple other schools. His future wasn’t some nebulous concept any more; it felt real. It felt too close. It was so much easier just to melt back against his bed, next to his two best friends, and to soak up the way their words seemed to roll around the room and fill it up completely.

Holster snorted and leaned against Ransom, reaching around him for the bottle but not moving away once he had it. “International Finance Theory with Professor Lawrence.”

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9

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (Stanley Kubrick, 1964).

we get it, you’re gay.
my sexuality is not a shirt that I take off at the end of each day, it is not dirty. I do not dress myself in lesbianism just for the fashion perks; homophobia is not in style. i am not a living light switch, I do not turn myself off to solve all your problems, my light will not go out because it’s too bright for you.
we get it, you’re gay.
if I stop talking about it, it will not go away. I would say I am sorry to disappoint but I am not sorry, I am gay, I am very gay and I am not sorry for who I am, I am only sorry that you have a problem with self-liberation and confidence.
we get it, you’re gay.
I can tell when someone is uncomfortable and my sexuality is making you uncomfortable, you are upset that I am comfortable in my own skin, you are upset that I am comfortable with the fact that I love girls and you are uncomfortable about the fact that I won’t shut up. you can’t silence my sexuality, actions speak louder than words.
we get it, you’re gay.
you don’t mind that I’m gay you just don’t want me to be too gay, because being too gay is distracting. you want me to be quiet gay, nice gay, understanding gay, your-gay-friend gay, let-you-get-away-with-everything gay. I can like girls but I’m supposed to whisper that kind of thing, not shout it. the neighbors aren’t supposed to hear.
we get it, you’re gay.
you say you understand, but you’d rather just push it under the rug. it’s okay if I’m gay, but I shouldn’t rub it in your face. you don’t mind, you say, but you can’t help but notice how many people are gay these days and you assume it must be some kind of practical joke. I am not a joke, my life is not some riddle, do you see me laughing? this is not funny.
we get it, you’re gay.
oh, I’m just rebellious, I’ve been told. a rebellious teen confused by the media, so tell me, where is my army? where are my hundreds of thousands of lgbt soldiers, ready to fight this war on love? we stand united but we are not armed, because if we bring the weapons we have guaranteed ourselves a two-minute five o'clock news slot, tragic tragedy, one-more-gay-gone, let’s save the world, let’s save the gays.
we get it, you’re gay.
“lesbians have ruined flannels for me” because the community was supposed to ask for a style after you denied us basic human rights? I’m sorry gay girls have ruined plaid for you, but it never looked too great on you anyway. maybe you should stick to solid colors; if you put too many shades on one shirt, it might look like a rainbow and someone might accidentally think you’re gay. can’t have that.
we get it, you’re gay.
don’t annoy the straights! eyes wide open, avoiding ticking bombs of discrimination, it happens all the time but there’s no way to prepare yourself for hate speech coming from the mouth of your mother or your teacher or your best friend. I bite my tongue to keep from coming out but you’re just so sure that you can trust me, I’ll get it, no offense, no hard feelings, I will understand.
we get it, you’re gay.
I am not going to hit on you, just because I like girls does not mean that I like you, I love myself and I love being gay. do not make my sexuality about you, my life does not revolve around you. I’ve undressed in front of you my entire life but now you insist on changing in the next room. you don’t say it, but I know. I’m not a friend, I’m a predator.
we get it, you’re gay.
you can ramble all day about how that kid in your physics class is just to die for, but the second I mention that a girl in my history class is cute then all eyes are burning holes into my skin. you don’t have to bring your gay with you everywhere, leave it at home most days, it’s too embarrassing to share.
we get it, you’re gay.
I don’t look gay enough, I’ve heard. do I need to carry a sign with me everywhere to broadcast that I Am Not Straight, I am g-a-y gay, rainbows all over my body and in my back pocket, just so you can see?
we get it, you’re gay.
oh, but you tell me that I am not gay I am not gay because I am a girl that likes girls, I can only use the word lesbian. I didn’t know that I erased my name tag and handed it to you, I didn’t know that you were in charge of what I called myself, I didn’t know you were allowed to police my labels; I never asked for your opinions but that never stopped you anyway, do you understand?
we get it, you’re gay.
so, by gay, do you mean really gay or just a little gay? lipstick lesbian, three-way fantasy, am I right? what stereotype would you like to claim, or would you prefer that I choose?
we get it, you’re gay.
truth or dare has always been a death sentence for me, and anyone that says that party games aren’t lethal doesn’t know pure poison, I grew up drinking venom from vodka bottles because alcohol was nothing to a child on the run. so explain to me why I would stop now.
we get it, you’re gay.
in every wedding aisle there’s a “mr.” and a “mrs.” who’s the man in the relationship, they’ll ask us, nothing about us is traditional but they’ll insist we wear white anyway. marriage equality, what else are you fighting for?
I get it, you’re straight.
you’re the cool straight friend. you’re the best straight friend any gay person could ever have, asking for fashion advice and introducing me as your “gay friend.” you say that you have a pretty great gaydar, and you knew all along. do you also know that I want you to shut the fuck up?
I get it, you’re straight.
capital s “Straight,” straight as a telephone pole, straighter than a ruler. so straight and everyone knows without you saying a word because you people are everywhere. you’re on cereal boxes and billboards and in every television show. you’re the main character but we’re just there for a little drama, an episode or two, and then we’re gone.
I get it, you’re straight.
you have never had to come out of the closet because you were never in one to begin with, you own the entire house and didn’t even give us enough room to be. has anyone ever told you how dark and crowded a closet is? it is so hard to breathe with so little space to exist, I’m surprised my thoughts didn’t suffocate me over the years, would you have even noticed?
I get it, you’re straight.
you’re a girl and you like boys, only boys. I mean, everyone experiments in college, right? everyone loves that song, I kissed a girl, because everyone loves just to give being gay a try without the weight of what it really means. it’s not cheating if it’s with a girl, right? right?
I get it, you’re straight.
no homo, bro! holding hands, sharing drinks, making eye contact, it’s not gay, no homo. just two pals being gals, no homo, don’t worry, we’re straight!
I get it, you’re straight.
you have learned how to hate since the moment you were born. no worries, I have been too, but I unlearned heteronormativity so I could fall in love with myself. you preach it every sunday in church and every weekday at work, you learn that serving me is optional, that you can turn me away because you don’t like who I love.
I get it, you’re straight.
lets talk about me as a topic of class discussion, I am the focus of today’s debate, go. argue your stance. do you think this girl at table three should have the right to get married, the right to adopt, the right to buy milk, the right to exist? do you think this girl at table three is just trying to fit in? do you think the girl at table three should be allowed to go to prom? tell me, let’s talk about the girl at table three, no harm done.
I get it, you’re straight.
you are in every book I’ve ever read. the love stories are always about you, how can you expect me to grow up and not feel flawed? these novels teach me to hate who I am, it’s a miracle in and of itself that I’m still here.
I get it, you’re straight.
“there’s a war on straight people,” excuse me? we are just beginning to come out of the shadows because the earth is only now a little less haunted and you have the audacity to say that you are the ones under attack?
I get it, you’re straight.
every step we take is monitored and broadcast for the world to see. you are just a person allowed to make your own decisions but everything I do respresents my entire community and there is no space for me to make mistakes. I am not perfect but I am trying.
I get it, you’re straight.
you say that me being gay is not a big deal to you, it could be anyone, no big deal, not at all. but it’s a big deal to me, this wasn’t an easy thing to say. why should I silence myself, am I overreacting?
I get it, you’re straight.
there’s no rule book for being an ally and sometimes the borders become a little blurred, it’s easy to cross a line. I will help guide you but I will not hold your hand. I cannot always be there to watch the words that trickle out of your mouth, you have to remember that I am a secret.
I get it, you’re straight.
please stop talking about me like I am the latest news story, I am not a headline in big bold font, sometimes I just need a moment to breathe. I have these words printed into my skin just like a newspaper and I’ve never been more black and white.
I get it, you’re straight.
what’s it like to be gay? oh, you know what I mean, so when did you know? which girl turned you gay? why did you lie to us, how many times have you done it with a girl, what about with a guy? how can you be gay if you’ve never done anything? can you ever really know? what if it’s all a phase?
I get it, you’re straight.
the words we identify ourselves by are your insults. they lock us up for holding hands, they criminalize and sexualize our daily activities because they don’t want us corrupting the children. I’ve spent my entire life in an invisible prison with see-through shackles, this is on my permanent record.
I get it, you’re straight.
have you ever considered that my backpack is heavy because I have to carry the weight of your judgment to and from school every day, I have to carry a fire extinguisher in my lunch box because these toxic words are flammable. I might break my back but at least you don’t know.
I get it, you’re straight.
what’s it like to be “normal”? to never have to deal with the undercover I’m-sorry-for-you stares from the kids in the hallway, the I’ll-pray-for you promises spoken by nice ladies in their sunday best?
we get it, you’re gay.
when I’m telling my love story I do not want to lie. I will not censor the pronouns to protect the innocent because my happiness is not guilt-ridden. I am leaving this book open.
—  we get it.
I Never Told You

12x12 Coda

Warnings: None (a couple f-bombs)

Words: 1.2K

Read on AO3

The drive home is a quiet one.  Dean can feel Sam beside him, squirming, desperate to ask questions.  To talk about what exactly just happened.  He knows Sam knows better, though.  Thankfully, he keeps quiet.  Every couple of minutes, Dean glances in the rearview, making sure Cas’s truck is still behind them; still following them.  He wanted Cas to leave the truck and ride with them – he’d been through a lot, didn’t need to be driving.  Cas, of course, refused.  With a heavy sigh, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and presses harder on the gas.  Dean’s full of adrenaline, full of questions, full of… he’s not even sure.  He’s buzzing.

Sam barely waits for the door to close before he announces he’s beat, and heading to bed.  Dean grunts a goodnight in his direction and turns his attention to Cas.  He still looks worse for wear – exhausted and filthy.  “You look like you should hit the hay, too,” he says.  He tries to sound jollier than he feels.  The waiver in his voice betrays that.  He notices Cas gripping the back of a chair, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to him.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas says quietly, avoiding Dean’s eyes.  “Thank you.”

Dean takes a shaky breath and nods.  “Yeah,” he says, in answer of nothing particular.  “Well, I’m gonna…” he jabs a thumb over his shoulder.  “I’m gonna grab a shower and head to bed, so…”

“I’ll be here.”  Cas lifts his eyes slowly, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat.  The whole way home, that night had been playing in his head.  The thought of losing Cas.  Cas’s confession.  Dean’s cowardice.

“Right.”  He steps forward and pats Cas’s shoulder awkwardly.  “Night, Cas.”  

“Goodnight, Dean.”

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