resettled

independent.co.uk
The government just quietly banned disabled child refugees from Britain
The Government has stopped accepting disabled child refugees fleeing war in Syria and other countries because it says it cannot cope with their needs, The Independent can reveal. A flagship government programme to resettle the most vulnerable victims of conflict in the Middle East and North Africa has been partially suspended, meaning children will be left in refugee camps instead of being moved to safety in the UK.

The Tories always manage to find a new low to sink to. But then they don’t care about disabled people anywhere. 

zorilleerrant  asked:

Can you have Cap save baby Magneto?

This actually happened in some of the cartoons! I gasped out loud when I saw it for the first time. (Go to about 10 minutes in for the full scene.) I thought I’d do something a little different, because while I love Erik in the First Class movies, I always wanted a happier ending for him…

The Howling Commandos, as a forward team focused on Hydra, hadn’t liberated many camps; the ones they had were Hydra slave labor camps, where the men were, if not well-fed, then at least not the gaunt, barely-alive prisoners they’d heard about from Red Army soldiers and Allied units. 

This camp was different; at the heart of it was some kind of lab. When Steve battered down the last reinforced door, he found a man holding a gun to the head of a young boy. 

“I’ll kill him,” the man said. Steve didn’t bother with an answer; the shield took the man’s head off before he could threaten the kid again.  

Still, in that second before death, Steve had seen the man’s finger spasm on the trigger, and felt the thickness in the air when the trigger wouldn’t move. He looked at the boy, looked at the body, and had a sense of destiny resettling itself in the world. 

“Was he the camp commander?” he asked the boy, who nodded, huge-eyed. “Commander…Shaw?”

The boy nodded again. He turned and pulled Steve’s now bloody shield out of the concrete wall like it was nothing. Then, with narrowed eyes, he floated it across to him, through the air, without touching it. 

Steve took the shield out of the air, shook off what he could, put it on his back, and said, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” the boy said, in trembling English.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Erik Lensherr.”

Steve had seen a lot of things in the war; nothing like this, but there had been signs of strange experiments in Hydra labs. This was comparatively harmless.

“Well, I’ll make you a deal, Erik,” he said. “I won’t tell what I saw here just now, and you help me close this place down. Then we’ll take you to HQ and get you a hot meal. Sound good?”

Erik nodded, then offered, “They knew you were coming. They destroyed all the records.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said. “Come on.”

In the convoy, bringing the prisoners out of the camp, Steve brought Erik up to the cab of the lead truck, and put him in next to Bucky at the wheel.

“Who’s this?” Bucky asked.

“Erik,” Steve said. “He’s riding with us.”

“Sprichts du English?” Bucky asked. 

“Yes,” Erik replied. “I can speak. English, German, Yiddish, some Russian. Good interpreter. I can work for Allies?” 

“How old are ya?” Bucky asked.

“Sixteen,” Erik said. 

“You are twelve,” Bucky told him.

“I’m just small,” Erik replied.

“Yeah, because you’re twelve,” Bucky insisted. “Well, we’ll make sure the folks handling the refugees take good care of y – “

“No, he’s coming with us,” Steve said. 

“What?” 

“Erik’s coming with us to HQ. We could use an interpreter. And he’s small enough to make a good spy. He’s had enough of camps, ain’t ya, kid?” he asked, and Erik nodded. 

“You wanna join the allies, huh?” Bucky asked.

“I go with Captain America,” Erik announced. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said, and now I know better,” Bucky replied, but he was grinning. “Fine, on your own head be it. Sixteen my ass,” he said to Steve. 

Steve took off his helmet and plopped it onto Erik’s head. “Sorry, got a new sidekick now,” he told Bucky, who laughed. 

Years later, when a magazine asked Erik Lensherr why he agreed to become Captain America after the disappearance of Steve Rogers, he said, “Steve took a terrified twelve-year-old Jewish kid out of a slave labor camp, gave him a helmet, and told him he had power. I believed him. Turns out he was right.” 

ALSO IMAGINE MAGNETO AS CAPTAIN AMERICA WITH THE SHIELD. HOLY CRAP. :D 

Twelve.

Could you write like the smuttiest thing you’ve ever written please!!

I kinda want to blame this request for this sin but oh well… This is pure filth so please don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable with smut. This has not been proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes.xxx

Y/N couldn’t believe how stupid she was when she agreed to this. She regretted it the moment she said yes. Now it’s been almost two weeks. Twelve days. 288 hours. Not that she was counting.
It happened during a night in with Harry. They both had a bit too much of red wine, their lips stained and their words getting slurred and silly.

“I bet you couldn’t go a week without sex.”
She looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, her deep red lips parted.
“What? I can totally go without sex. Unlike you, you’re a horny mess after an hour without sex.” she smirked at him.
“S'not true! I bet I can go longer without sex than you.” he stated proudly.
“A bet? You wanna bet, Styles?”
“Yes. We’ll see who can go longer without sex.”
“And what does the winner get?”
“Mind blowing sex.”


Exactly that was what she was craving for right now, mind blowing sex. It wasn’t that she was addicted to sex or needed it to function but when your boyfriend is Harry Styles and looks like a goddamn adonis and you know exactly what he’s able to do with his perfect body it’s hard not to get horny.
He was teasing her as well, every morning his hand would wander a bit too low when they were cuddling and every time he came out of the shower his towel was almost falling off and sometimes it really did fall off, accidentally of course.
She was teasing him as well though, only sleeping in one of his shirts and a pair of lace panties or wearing her favorite pair of jeans which she knew made her ass look extremely good.
It didn’t help her though, he noticed all her teasing and sexy looks but he never made a move on her. He wanted to win this bet.
She wanted to as well but if she was quite honest she didn’t think she was able to go another hour without his naked body pressed to hers.
She knew he was upstairs right now, in their ensuite bathroom, taking a shower. And she knew he would come down in a few minutes, showing off his irresistible body.
She couldn’t take it anymore, her body was going crazy. The constant ache between her legs made her feel dizzy and the fact that she just needed him made her go upstairs.
She entered their bedroom, smelling his shower gel. She wanted him. She needed him. She didn’t care about the bet anymore, it’s been too long.
He came out of the door a minute later, surprised to see her standing in the middle of their bedroom, looking all nervous and messy.
“You okay, love? You look a bit flustered.”
She shook her head, she was almost near tears now. The desperation and frustration grew inside of her, making her body move over to his and pressing her lips to his in a hard kiss.
She felt his shock, before he finally began to kiss her back and wrap his arms around her.
“What’s going on, hm?”
He knew exactly what was going on, she was needy. But he wanted to hear her say it.
“Want you. I-I need you. Harry, please, I can’t-”
“Shh, baby.” he shushed her rambling gently.
“What so you need, hm?”
“You, please.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Harry!” she exclaimed frustrated.
“I need to hear you say it, baby. C'mon tell me.”
“I want you to fuck me.” she whimpered.
He smirked at her, satisfied with her answer.
“But then you’ll loose the bet, darling.”
“I don’t care about this fucking bet, Harry! This was such as stupid idea. I just want you to fuck me, take me in every way you like.”
“So desperate? S'not even been two weeks, my love.”
“But it’s been too long.”
“Alright, s'true. Get out of these clothes, baby.”
She did as he said, immediately throwing her shirt to the floor and stepping out of her jeans and panties.
“Good girl. Now lie down on the bed for me.”
She lied down on her back, waiting for him to come to her. She heard his towel hitting the floor, falling beside her clothes. She looked up at him as he started to crawl onto the bed until he was hovering over her naked form but not touching her yet.
“Didn’t think you could go this long without having me fuck you, baby.” he whispered against her neck, his lips brushing over her skin and making goosebumps arise on her whole body.
“Didn’t think I could go so long without fucking you.”
He pressed the first kiss against her sweet spot, right under her ear and her bach arched off the back, pressing her chest against his. She heard him groan quietly when her naked tits touched his chest.
“I missed this so fucking much, baby. Never again, yeah?”
“Never.” she agreed.
His kisses wandered lower, over her collarbones down to her boobs. He nibbled on the skin there, using his tongue to lick over it. When he reached her nipples he sucked on each of them, licking over the pink flesh before he released it and wandered lower.
He took his time with kissing ever inch of her but this wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him to be gentle and loving. She wanted him to be rough. Really rough.
“Harry, please.”
He knew that tone, the desperation and need in it. He knew he was torturing her right now but he won’t keep going like this. He’s going to give her what she wants.
He came up from where he was kissing around her hips, looking her in the eyes. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips, covering her mouth in a sweet and passionate way.
“You went twelve days without this, right? Twelve is a nice number.”
His face moved to the side, his nose nuzzling into her hair and his mouth right over her ear.
“How about I make you come twelve times? A orgasm for every single day you didn’t have me.”
She whimpered at his words, wanting that. Wanting him to make her come undone as many times as possible.
“How’s that sound?”
“Please, Harry.”
“Yes? You want that?”
“Yes.”
“Gonna count them, okay? Gonna count every time you come for me, yeah?”
“Yes, Harry.” she nodded frankly.
He moved down her body again, until he was right between her legs. He grabbed her knees, making them bend and her feet plant on the mattress. He started to kiss down her left thigh, moving closer to where she was pink and aching for him.
She spread her lips apart when he decided it was enough of the teasing, groaning when he saw how wet she was. He glided his middle finger between her lips, gathering some of her juices and rubbing over her clit with them. A breathy moan left her lips at the contact, missing his touch too much.
He finally leaned down then, licking a broad stripe between her pussy lips and humming at the taste of her. He loved this when she filled all his senses, he was only able to see her, smell her, taste her and feel her.
He licked over her clit, lapping at it with the tip of his tongue. He circled the nub before he licked over it from side to side and then moved down to her entrance where he pushed his tongue inside and moved it up and down against her walls. She was moaning and groaning, her hands in Harry’s hair, pulling it and messing it up.
He hooked her thighs over his shoulders so he had better access to her and could bury his face deeper into her. His hands were sprawled out on her hips, holding them down so she couldn’t squirm away.
He licked her deeper now, right between her lips and massaging all the right places. He could feel her getting close already, her thighs beginning to shake, her pussy beginning to clench and the juices kept pouring out of her.
“Harry, I-I’m gonna-” a loud moan interrupted her words when he licked over just the perfect spot.
He sucked on her clit then, trapping it between his lips and massaging it with his tongue at the same time. She came within seconds, screaming out into the bedroom and pulling Harry closer by his hair. He groaned against her when he felt her come, loving the way she moved her pussy against his face and her cum dripped out of her. He knew she came hard, her voice breaking with every moan and her body shaking and trembling with the waves of pleasure that cursed through her whole body and made everything clench.
When her thighs finally fell open and Harry was sure he got every drop of her he sat up, breathing harshly. His lips were swollen and wet with her and his eyes dark and wild.
“You forgot something, my love.” he reminded her.
She wasn’t able to think properly, her brain probably jelly just like her bones. She remembered what he requested of her earlier though.
“One.”
“Good girl.” he praised her.
He moved up again, kissing her briefly.
“Sit up.”
She did as he said, sitting up and watching how he lay down on the bed.
“Over my face, darling.”
“What? Harry, no.”
He knew she didn’t like this too much. It felt amazing and she knew that but she hated the thought of sitting on his face. She was always scared of hurting him.
“Baby, c'mon. You know how good it’s gonna feel.”
She looked at him skeptical for a second before she sighed and gave in. She moved so she was straddling his face. He pulled her down immediately, making her sit right on his mouth. She moaned immediately when she felt his tongue on her again, dragging up the full crease of her.
“Yes! Oh fuck.” she moaned out and she knew Harry was smirking against her.
He moved one hand from where he was holding onto her thigh to her mouth, silently telling her to suck his fingers and get them wet. She wrapped her lips around them, getting them dripping wet. When he was happy with her sucking he moved them down to her entrance, immediately pushing two fingers inside of her, causing her to moan at the delicious stretch.
Harry started pumping his fingers inside of her, stroking that one spot she could never reach herself.
Y/N’s hands reached up to hold onto the headboard, moving her hips against Harry’s mouth. He moaned against her when he felt her starting to ride his mouth, letting her move just how she pleased.
He resettles her above him after a moment and then she feels the firm press of his hot tongue against her clit, licking it with just the perfect pressure.
Harry fucks into her with his fingers, twisting and curling them. His lips sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking over it and making sharp pleasure run up her spine.
“Y-Yes, oh shit.”
She was already so close again, almost overwhelmed with all the pleasure he made her feel.
Harry curled his fingers inside of her, pressing hard against her g-spot. She’s clenching down around his fingers, so close to coming. He hummed against her, the vibrations hitting her clit immediately and that was all it took for her to explode again.
“Harry, yes!”
Harry’s fingers fucked her through it, prolonging her orgasm and keeping her right there. His lips kept on sucking on her clit, making her come so hard she fell forward against the headboard. Harry held onto her ass cheeks then, moving her against his mouth in the same way he would do it if she was sitting on his cock.
“Harry, oh fuck!”
He kept on moving her against him with his hands on her ass cheeks, licking her so deep she came for the third time with a shaky cry and clenching thighs.
She whines when it gets too much and Harry lets go of her, helping her off him.
“What was that, my love?”
“Three.”
Y/N was shaking, a whimpering mess but Harry knew she wanted to keep going. Needed to keep going.
Harry needed this himself, he missed this over the last two weeks. His dick was standing to his full potential already, his tip a angry shade of red and leaking precum that made it look slick.
“Can you sit on my cock, baby?” he asked her sweetly, innocence lacing his words.
She nodded the tiniest bit, moving so she was straddling his hips. She eyed his dick hungrily, missing that body part the most. She took hold of his shaft, enjoying the fact that Harry groaned out at the feel of her hand around him.
She lined herself up with his tip, sinking down immediately. Loud groans left both of their mouths, their eyes falling shut with the pleasure that came with having each other like this again.
Y/N took him as deep as possible, sitting properly on his dick with her ass hitting his thighs. She began to rock her hips, making him rub against her favorite spot. Harry was looking up at her, not quite sure if he should look at her blissed out face or the place where his dick was sliding into her pussy.
Her hands were on his butterfly tattoo, bracing herself. She bounced on him then, making his dick fill her up with every movement of her hips.
“Yes, fuck yourself on my cock.” Harry groaned out, moving his hands to her thighs.
Y/N was moaning and whimpering above him, slamming down so hard on his cock that her ass created a filthy sound against his thighs.
One of her hands wandered to in between her legs, rubbing at her clit to get herself there faster. Harry felt his eyes rolling back in his head when he saw her touching herself right on his dick, the sight so overwhelmingly sexy that he was sure he could come right then and there.
He felt it when she was close, her walls squeezing his dick and her hips moving even faster. She kept on rubbing herself until she finally came with a hoarse shout, her whole body shaking with the pure pleasure her own fingers and his cock made her experience. She came hard, Harry could feel her slick coating his cock and dripping onto his thighs. Her pussy was squeezing Harry’s dick so hard he saw stars but he wouldn’t come, not until he got everything from her.
“Four.” she moaned out when she finally stopped the movements of her hips, her fingers still stroking over her clit to ride out her orgasm properly.
Harry sat up when she wanted to let him slid out of her, pulling her by her thighs tightly to him so she was still sitting on his cock. A surprised shriek left her at his movements, her eyes wide and her mouth parted.
He slapped her fingers away from her pussy, replacing them with his own and rubbing her bundle of nerves in hard circles. A high pitched moan left her, trying to squirm away from his fingers.
“Harry, fuck I-”
“I want you to come, right on my cock from only my fingers.”
She groaned disbelievingly, she felt his cock so deep inside of her, she just wanted to move and make him fuck up inside of her but he held her down on his dick, not letting her move the slightest bit.
His fingers were rubbing her clit so roughly but just the way she liked it and she came within seconds, still worked up from her last orgasms.
Her pussy clenched down on Harry’s cock, making him groan out but he kept still, only feeling her orgasm on him. He rubbed her through it, the way her pussy squeezed his cock making him moan right with her.
“Five.”
He removed his fingers from her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lying down with her on top of him, his dick still inside of her. He knew she would be sore the next day but it didn’t matter.
He bent his knees, planting his feet on the mattress. Her thighs were spread, her knees on either side of his hips. He gave her one experimental thrust, loving the way she moaned out loud at the pleasure.
He unwrapped his arms from around her, his hands grabbing onto her ass, spreading her cheeks apart before he fucked up into her. He held her down on his cock so she couldn’t move, his dick slamming into her hard and fast. She was screaming against his shoulder, his dick feeling so fucking good inside of her. Harry was moaning into her neck, this position absolutely wrecking him as well.
Y/N came so fast it was incredible, screaming and sobbing loudly against Harry, her nails leaving scratches on his arm. He slowed down a bit when she kept on crying out against his shoulder, now rolling his hips into her rather than thrusting with full force.
“S-Six.” she stammered out when she was able to think again.
“Such a good girl, baby. You still good?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He pounded her pussy again, his thighs slapping against her ass hard. He slapped down on her ass with both hands at that was all she needed before she came again. She wasn’t able to count her seventh orgasm because it became her eighth right afterwards, growing into one mind blowing orgasm that made her shout out.
“Yes, baby.” Harry breathed out when her pussy got incredibly tight again.
“Eight.”
He made her sit up then, letting him slip out of her.
“Hands and knees, love.”
It took her a bit longer than usual to position herself due to the shaking of her limbs but she managed to within a few moments.
He lined himself up behind her, sliding into her immediately. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back to his chest. He spread her thighs a bit wider so he had more access before he began to fuck her again, her ass hitting his thighs loudly with every move.
She came again within seconds, her pussy now so sensitive that it only needed a few thrusts to explode. Harry moved one hand to her clit before she could finish completely, intensifying her orgasm with his hard circles against her nerves and making her groan out.
He fucked her right through it, not letting up on his pace and his rubbing.
“Harry! Oh!”
Another orgasm rocked through her body, making her fall forwards. Harry let her, leaning over her and still rubbing her clit with his fingers.
“T-Ten.”
He removed his hand from her, pressing her down on the bed completely and slamming into her so hard the whole bed moved and the headboard kept on hitting the wall with loud thuds.
He didn’t even feel her next orgasm, her pussy grew so tight around him that he wasn’t able to feel her clenching anymore. But she did come, he could hear it, her loud moans and shouts.
“Eleven.” she whimpered out.
She was completely fucked out, he knew she was but she had one more inside of her. Only one more.
Harry was right there, at the edge of his orgasm and he knew he only needed a few more seconds before he would come inside of her. Y/N was still lying on her stomach, her hands gripping onto the sheets.
“You gonna come with me, baby?”
She only moaned at that was all he needed before he began to pound away, paying attention to that one spot inside of her that would make her explode within seconds.
And she did come within a few short moments, coming harder than ever around him. Her juices came pouring out of her, drenching the sheets underneath them. Her scream was so loud it teared right through Harry, making him come deep inside of her and coating her walls with his hot release. He stilled inside of her, pushing as deep as he could go, his cock still releasing rope after rope of sticky white cum.
He was scared that she passed out for a moment but her moans and whimpers reassured him that she was still conscious. He pulled out of her finally, hearing her whimper at the loss. He looked down and saw her release mixed with his cum pouring out of her, onto the sheets.
He lied down beside her, his breathing harsh and ragged.
“You okay, my love?” he asked her softly, his hand stroking over her back.
She looked at him with half lidded eyes, her lips parted.
“How the fuck did you make me come twelve times?”
Her voice was wrecked, raspy from all the shouting she’d done.
Harry laughed out at her words, his shoulders shrugging.
“I’ve got no idea. But it was hot as fuck.”
She turned around finally, laying her head on his chest with a sigh.
“We are never ever going without sex again. Never.” she stated.
“Never.” he agreed.
“We need to change the sheets.” she whispered after a few moments, a bit of embarrassment audible in her voice.
“That we have to do, love. Never thought you could come like this. My dick really has to be amazing.”
She hit his chest playfully, scolding him with her eyes.
“Shut up, you wanker.”
“Oi! I’m very glad that I don’t have to wank anymore, thank you very much.”
“Oh god, Harry.”

The gag is there wouldn’t have even been a Louisiana Purchase without Haiti. There would not have been a revival of the unique culture in Louisiana if not for Haitian immigrants resettling here because it was slowly dying out. New Orleans would have not been anything close to what is if not for the blending of Creole and Haitian culture. Many came here, led massive slave rebellions, and become state icons (i.e. Charles Deslondes). So y'all really have to read before you throw your diaspora hot takes out there.

2

‘Forbes’ 30 Under 30 members wrote an open letter to Trump denouncing the Muslim ban

  • Sixty-six members from current and past Forbes’ 30 Under 30 lists, an annual list of influential entrepreneurs and game changers under the age of 30, signed an open letter addressed to Trump condemning his latest Muslim travel ban.
  • The letter, obtained by Mic, called Trump’s executive order on immigration "unjustified, illogical and discriminatory.“
  • "We view this executive order as unjustified, illogical and discriminatory — it targets minorities, immigrants and Muslims,” the letter read. “We fear that these actions put our peaceful future in jeopardy.”
  • “We come from many countries, faiths and backgrounds. Many of us are American. Some of us are immigrants who travelled across the globe to resettle in America for a better future, and to have equal rights. Some of us are citizens of other nations speaking up because know that the U.S. has a crucial role to play as a global leader on human rights.” Read more (3/9/17 1:21 PM)

follow @the-movemnt

Transference (M) – Chapter 01

cr. [X]

Summary: During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell. The business arrangement becomes…mutually beneficial. Y’all know where this is going.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2,061

Warning: Tantric!Hoseok, therapist/client relationship, discussion of BDSM, sex work, profanity.

A/N: This work is a byproduct of about 6 months of insomnia and 60-hour work weeks, which resulted in a series of recurring dreams about Jung Hoseok which were…*fans self*

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Keep reading

2

Refugees in the US are now fleeing to Canada

  • After escaping from their home countries, refugees in the U.S. are now fleeing to Canada to get away from Trump, and the country’s xenophobia, Al Jazeera reports.
  • Farhan Ahmed, 36, and Mohamed Mualim, 28, are both Somali refugees. On Feb. 3, after trekking through knee-deep snow fields of North Dakota for five hours to cross the Canadian border, the duo arrived in Canada and subsequently filed for asylum. 
  • Ahmed told Al Jazeera the impetus for flocking to Canada was mainly due to Trump and his executive order banning refugees for 120 days and visa holders from seven majority-Muslim countries, including Somalia.
  • Ahmed and Mualim are just two people out of dozens the Manitoba Interfaith Immigration Council have helped with resettling into Canada. Read more (2/13/17 2:03 PM)

A few years ago I was at an anime con with my then 9 year old daughter. Attack on Titan had just finished it’s US broadcast and was at the height of it’s popularity. We were sitting in a panel room with Josh Grelle, the voice actor of Armin Arlert and Lauren Landa (Annie). They were entertaining questions from the audience.

I don’t know how many of you go to cons, but the questions at these events tend to be repetitive. People ask far too many about shipping. They ask about life as a voice actor, they ask the actors their favorite, hardest, easiest moments and so on. Trust me when I say voice actors are patient people.

About 30 minutes in, my daughter’s hand shot up and Josh called on her. She walked to the microphone and asked, “Do you think Armin will ever see the ocean?”

Josh, Lauren and the entire room let out a collective awwwwww and a few people actually got emotional–Josh included. He finally said, “I sure hope so. If I have one wish for this story it’s that Armin gets to see the ocean.”

I don’t share a lot of personal pictures, but I’ll make an exception here since meeting Josh was the greatest day of her life.

My daughter’s anime tastes have long since moved on to swimmers and setters, spikers and bikers, and those adorable ice skating boys, but Armin Arlert is still Her Guy. And while she doesn’t read the manga, she follows Armin-centric instagram accounts and each month asks me for details of his life. So yesterday when she came home from school, I was excited and happy to show her the panels of Armin happily splashing in the ocean. She’s waited basically a quarter of her life for this moment. 

So please believe me when I say I get it. I am  happy for everyone who loves Armin and the rest of the 104th. It was a great moment for you and I felt joy seeing your joy (especially yours @daydream24-7 and @guyinlovewitheremika ).

That said, I also completely understand the rage and disappointment in this chapter. I personally am struggling myself. This was a terrible chapter for anyone who loved Erwin, Ymir, or the Warriors. The time skip essentially rendered all of our pain as unimportant and inconsequential. We’re having to accept that everything we wanted and needed regarding our favorite characters isn’t going to happen.

We’re never going to see Nile, Pixis or, ya know, Levi’s reaction to Erwin’s death. Any conflicted feelings over eating Bert are probably long since resolved. We won’t get Reiner’s reaction. Ymir is probably dead. We’re expected to accept that Historia read her letter and got on with her life. And Annie–who dat?

It’s not just the characters I’m mourning, I have concerns about the story. In two pages the titan threat that hung over us is just gone. And not by some cool  awesome use of the coordinate, but by a titan guillotine that slowly picked them off one by one. It feels cold and anti-climactic.

I have so many questions. What about the structure of the military? Is there still a Survey Corps? What have they been doing for a year? Aren’t they worried about Zeke and Reiner? I’m sorry but you do not put a time skip in the middle of a battle. You do not leave that many threads hanging. I wanted and expected so much more.

And now people are resettling Wall Maria. What about all those bodies? Not just Erwin’s, but there are a hundred dead SC members rotting in the sun. I used to accept that there was no time to mourn the dead, but they’ve obviously had nine months of relative peace. I hope a little of that went into consideration for the fallen but we’ll never know.

While the day at the beach was nice, I’m struggling with the point of it. Was it simply to prove that Grisha’s journals were trustworthy? If so, wouldn’t being surrounded by 50 meter walls that are stuffed with a colossal titan filling be enough to prove that? 

Clearly I’m still processing all of this. I keep telling myself to be patient and give it more time, but how much more time do I allow? My biggest concern is if Isayama can still pull off a satisfying story, or is this an indication that he’s lost interest and is trying to wrap things up as quickly as possible. I’m looking forward to reading the meta of the people who I know are more objective than I am. I’m interested in hearing their thoughts. Maybe they’ll help soothe mine.

Anyway, thank you for listening. I just needed to get this out. 

Next week, between 150 and 200 people will gather for a Passover seder at Temple Beth-El in Richmond, Va. When the traditional Passover question is posed — “Why is this night different from all other nights?” — there’s a new answer. Guests at the Seder, co-sponsored by the refugee aid agency ReEstablish Richmond, will include approximately two dozen locally resettled immigrants from Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria.

Passover, after all, is the ultimate refugee holiday. It’s about an ancient flight to freedom by Israelites who were oppressed in Egypt. And the world is currently facing an unprecedented refugee crisis, with 65.3 million refugees worldwide.

One new version of the Haggada, from the American Jewish World Service, makes a direct connection: “Around the world today, courageous people are making similar journeys — leaving behind violence, poverty and persecution and seeking security, freedom, prosperity and peace.”

Against this backdrop, a number of Jewish organizations are offering new readings and rituals to include at the festive meal known as the Seder. These additions, says Rabbi Jonah Dov Pesner, director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, are in keeping with the fact that the Haggada — the text read at the Seder — has always been flexible, “less of a fixed text than a user guide to tell the story.”

Why Add A Banana To The Passover Table?

Illustration: Franziska Barczyk for NPR

First they came for the Muslims, and Jared Kushner said nothing

Dear Jared,

We don’t know each other well, but we’ve met a few times so I figured I’d give this a go. I’m writing to implore you, as President Donald Trump’s son-in-law and a senior adviser, to oppose his immigration executive order. You are one of the few people who has the president’s ear and the power to stop him, or at least register your opposition.

Given your family’s history, part of you must be uncomfortable with this policy.

You’re the grandson of Holocaust survivors. You’ve defended President Trump against charges of anti-Semitism. Your own grandmother warned in an 1982 interview of the dangers of another leader like Hitler rising to power. “For the Jews, the doors were closed,” she said. “Even our good president, Roosevelt — how come he kept the doors so closed for us for such a long time?”

I’m asking you to show leadership at this dangerous moment when history threatens to repeat itself. Trump’s decision to restrict immigration from seven Muslims countries, including all refugees, is an affront to the U.S. Constitution. It goes against who we are as Jews.

As a journalist, I’ve traveled to war-torn Syria, where more than 450,000 Syrians have been killed and over 12 million displaced in the deadliest conflict of this century. I’ve visited refugee camps in Jordan, where 1.3 million refugees have resettled since the start of the civil war in 2011.

I’ve seen the toll of the refugee crisis first hand in countries like Greece. If you step onto the shores of the Greek island of Lesbos, you’ll never look at a refugee the same way again. I still see the haunting images of shivering children piling out of overcrowded dinghies, screaming mothers cradling newborns in their ams, innocent teenagers suffering in agony because they’ve lost their siblings in a bomb attack in Syria and elderly men and women with tears streaming down their faces because they know they will never return home again.

What I learned from being in these places is just how inaccurate media depictions of refugees are. It’s easy — and politically convenient — to paint them as dangerous ISIS sympathizers. But they are fleeing the very same terrorists that America is fighting. Look into their eyes and you’ll see people desperate to escape war and who will do anything to protect their families. They’re charming, funny, witty. They have big dreams of falling in love and making it big in America and Europe. Banning these refugees does not keep America safe. Despite all the blustery rhetoric, no refugee has carried out a major fatal terrorist attack in the United States.

If that doesn’t move you, then consider how similar Syrian refugees’ plight is to what Jewish people faced during the Holocaust. Then, as now, the majority of Americans were opposed to admitting a vulnerable population into the country over fears they posed a national security threat. Anti-Semitism was prevalent, just as Islamophobia is today; polls conducted from August 1940 to June 1945 show that Jews were regarded as the greatest “menace to this country.” Sound familiar?

In 1939, at the height of World War II, 61% of Americans said they opposed legislation that would have admitted 20,000 Jewish refugee children from Germany into the United States. Congress rejected the legislation and cut refugee migration by 75 percent. In one incident that has become emblematic of U.S. policy at the time, 900 Jewish refugees on the MS St. Louis were turned away from the United States because of immigration restrictions. More than 250 of those passengers were later killed after they were sent back to Nazi Germany.

That moment was a major stain on our history. No one would say today that turning away Jews was the right policy.

Yet today, a new Rasmussen poll shows that 57% of voters favor President Trump’s ban on immigrants from Syria, Iraq, Iran, Libya, Somalia, Sudan and Yemen. Since 2011, slightly more than 18,000 Syrian refugees have been resettled in the U.S, but that’s nowhere close to many of our allies; Germany, for example, took in over 1 million asylum seekers in 2015 alone. Trump has placed a temporary ban on any Syrian refugees coming in and pledged to cut the total number who can be resettled in the future by more than half. Once again today, human lives are at stake. For them, this is a matter of life and death.

I know standing up to Trump is not easy, but doing the right thing takes courage. It’s far easier to score cheap points by demagoguing against Muslims. But being president is not about doing what’s popular or good for business. It’s about showing leadership, and doing what’s moral and just.

Just like you, I grew up hearing the oft-repeated mantra “never again” in my synagogue. Well, it’s happening again. So, I’m asking you to condemn this executive order. Think of your grandmother’s words and what would make her proud. Then use the clout you have to persuade Trump to repeal it.

The country needs you.

Jake

kid, you’ll move mountains

for @tinseltowncloud

“And this right here is my all-time favorite poem,” Derek coos. Will can’t see him or Teddy from where he’s standing, hidden behind the half-closed door, but he can imagine the fond, happy smile that’s been on Derek’s face since they took Teddy home last week.

Teddy’s happy gurgling seems to be an affirmation to Derek, and then there’s some rustling - probably Derek getting settled in the rocking chair. Will tries to rack his brain for Derek’s favorite poem, but for some reason he’s drawing a blank.

“You know, your grandmas used to read this to me all the time when I was a baby. And I liked it back then, but I never really loved it until I was in college. It was what used to get me through the bad days - that is, until Daddy came along, and he started getting me through the bad days, too. So I’m going to read this to you, and it might not really make sense to you now, or you might just like it, but maybe when you’re older it’ll get you through some bad days, too.”

Will can already feel the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and Derek hasn’t even started reading the poem yet.

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anonymous asked:

Why is Two Bread Tom's statue on one of the islands?

This is where the humans from Stakes landed when they left on their ship. Two Bread Tom, the leader of those humans, seems like he could be among ~The Founders. But specifically why does he have a statue in Founders Park?

These humans as the descendants of the ones who departed in Stakes makes sense. A good number of them have carried over the animal hat tradition that stemmed from protecting themselves from vampires. Every Seeker has an animal hat, probably because they put themselves in the most dangerous situations, and the hats are safety hats. But other humans also wear similar hats stylistically, including people who wind up in re-education for trying to flee the islands.

And the humans on the islands became isolationist and built the Guardian because their top priority in leaving Ooo was to protect themselves. That’s what the Founders Song said. That’s what Two Bread Tom said in Stakes. That all adds up.

But there were other groups of humans who came to the islands apart from the ones from Stakes, right? I mean, I know that hundreds of years have passed between Stakes and Islands, but in Stakes these guys were sitting around campfires and fending for themselves, but in Islands… I mean, they’d built the Guardian. Their agrarian farm members - Alva speaks Swedish and NOT English, by the way. She’s pretty likely from a different group - have voice-activated tech and cyber weather barriers. That other island has little fairy airplane droids that sustain humans who are constantly connected to a VR MMO. The islands are SO high tech. 

And building the Guardian seems like it’d’ve been a priority for the guys that fled Ooo in Stakes, so how did they do it?

MoCo - yes, THAT MO Co. - was involved in the human resettlement, as shown in a short glimpse during the Founders Song. MO Co. was founded by Moe: builder of the MOs and the fire giants, and Adventure Time’s first example of a human supplementing their body with gadgets (shoutout to Dr. Gross). Either Moe, or perhaps more likely, employees from his corporation, lent MO Co. tech to the new development.

Either way, the ship the humans in Stakes took - I’m pretty sure it’s the same one Finn took back to Ooo. Nice touch - was NOT a MO Co. project. The Stakes humans all worked on it themselves. And then they left on this one ship, and the Founders Song makes perfectly clear that several different people arrived on this island in several different vessels. 

Ooo is just one island on the entirety of Earth, and still look how small Founders Island is relative to Ooo. I’m kinda interested who were the first people to make it there. Who contacted other groups of humans and told them this tiny island was the new meeting spot? Did the Stakes humans know that this is where they were heading when they left? How long were different groups of humans invited to the islands before the Guardian was instructed to wreck any ship headed in or out? 

This is not the kinda thing you can expect the show to answer at this point. Our best answer is that it just sorta happened this way. But it’s good, and the whole situation becomes richer the longer you think about it. I like that.

Justin Trudeau takes a stand against Trump’s Muslim ban

  • President Donald Trump’s ban on refugees is debuting with a lot of criticism — particularly because it discriminates on the basis of religion. 
  • As a result, world leaders are responding with pledges to step up with initiatives to resettle refugees, while reiterating their countries’ commitment to take in refugees from around the globe no matter their faith.
  • The first response came from right on the United States’ northern border: Canadian Prime Minster Justin Trudeau took to Twitter Saturday afternoon and said Canada would not be discriminating on the basis of a refugee’s religion. Read more.

Circassian women in Jordan

The history of Circassians alongside other ethnic groups originating from the Caucasus in Jordan dates back to XIXth century. The city of Amman began to be resettled in 1878, when hundreds of Circassians arrived following their exodus from the Caucasus; between 1872–1910, tens of thousands of Circassians had relocated to Ottoman Syria after being displaced by the Russian Empire during the events of the Russo-Circassian War.

Ottoman records from 1906 show around 5,000 Circassians living in Amman and virtually no inhabitants who spoke Arabic. The city’s demographics changed dramatically after the Ottoman government’s decision to construct the Hejaz Railway, which linked Damascus and Medina, and facilitated the annual Hajj pilgrimage and trade. Because of its location along the railway, Amman was transformed from a small village into a major commercial hub in the region.

Location: Amman, Jordan

Photographer:  Saad Al-Enezi

talk about you (like you put the stars in the sky)

(written for @ransomweek and also @hoenursey bc i promised i would)

“We’re gonna die,” Nursey says, clinging to Ransom’s hand as they make their way up the trail. “Babe. We’re literally gonna die.”

Ransom laughs. “We’re not gonna die, Derek.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to know that Nursey’s making a face at his back. “You only call me Derek when we’re in bed or you’ve convinced me to do something terrible.”

“That is–” Ransom thinks about it. “Huh. Goddamn, bro, you’re right.”

There’s a sudden scramble and a yelp, and Nursey’s grip on Ransom’s hand jerks. Random turns in time to catch him by the elbow as he slips. “I told you,” Nursey whines, letting Ransom help him back up. “We’re gonna die. What the fuck made you think hiking at night was a good idea?”

Random grins, leaning forward. There’s enough moonlight trickling through the trees for him to find Nursey’s nose, and he plants a kiss on it. “The fact that I’ve done this with my dad and sisters since I was a kid,” he says, “and I wanted to show my city boyfriend the view.”

“It’s dark,” Nursey protests, letting Ransom start tugging him gently up the trail again. “How’re we supposed to see anything?”

“Baby, you know what night vision is. Now you’re whining just to whine.”

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AGGRESSIVELY CUTE AND HAPPY THINGS TIME BECAUSE I NEED THEM WE NEED THEM PREPARE THYSELVES FOR FLUFF

  • Newt makes awful coffees. Awful. They’re either murky peat-water or sentient tar, there is no in between. Graves drinks them without comment because Newt made them.
  • Actually that’s not quite true, Graves drinks them with many comments, particularly when the black mess is somehow defying gravity and climbing out of the mug. Newt occasionally gets flustered and tries to take the mug back but Graves hunches over it protectively because it’s his coffee that his boyfriend made him and he downs the scalding, gravity defying concoction before Newt can take it off him and smirks triumphantly when Newt pouts.
  • When Graves starts floating from whatever the fuck Newt did to his coffee, Newt crosses his arms and tells him off for drinking it in the first place. Graves flails against the ceiling and sticks out his burnt tongue and looks pitiful until Newt sighs and levitates himself up to kiss it better.
  • Kissing it better is going very well indeed until the coffee wears off and Graves stops floating. He clings to Newt for dear life while Newt, the fucker, laughs his head off and takes his sweet time about manoeuvring them to hover over the kitchen table so Graves can get down.
  • “I am not putting my shoes on the table we eat off that thing!”
  • Don’t drop me on the floor the floor is a long way away.
  • Newt finally rolls his eyes and casts a second levitating charm on Graves. It’s one that gives him full control over where Graves is positioned rather than just floating him up to lie on the ceiling, and isn’t that an interesting prospect. He twitches his fingers to bring Graves up to hover beneath him, and again to align them flush against each other. Graves slides one hand behind Newt’s head and slides the other down his front in a way that vanishes his clothes, and this is an excellent progression of events.
  • Five minutes later, Newt is too distracted to hold either levitation spell and Graves is a loudly complaining ball of agony on the kitchen table with an elbow in his ribs, a knee in exactly the worst place for a knee to land, and definitely a broken spine, Newt, he isn’t kidding, it’s fine for some people because they had a nice squishy boyfriend to land on but other people had a bony boyfriend land on them and ow mercy lewis right in the gonads fuck
  • Cue much fussing and application of homemade and not-officially-sanctioned pain poultices made of god knows what ingredients that Newt was taught by a healer in god knows what country but they actually work so that’s ok (though god knows how)
  • The pair of them end up on the sofa, Graves lying sideways with his head on Newt’s lap and Newt stroking lazy circles on Graves’ bare back to “help the healing” while he flips through pages for the latest chapter of his book
  • Graves contributing with grammar and spelling because holy shit, Newt knows his stuff but the things that man does to a comma are illegal
  • As in actually illegal, Graves passed a law about it last week and he’s pretty sure that Tina hasn’t noticed yet to revoke it
  • The pair of them share the sofa with three occamies, curled up on Graves’ chest, a diricawl perched on Newt’s shoulder, Pickett in Graves’ hair trying to make it curl the way Newt’s does (and succeeding what the actual fuck Pickett what arcane magic are you using to do this) and Addie the nundu laid out over Newt’s feet like a large pair of deadly killer slippers.
  • Lazy evenings by the fire in a puppy pile of creatures, Graves rolling over sleepily and burying his face in Newt’s stomach, occamies mewing unhappily as they’re dislodged and burrowing beneath the blanket to resettle themselves, Newt’s soft smile as he looks around him at his family
  • Happy things
Reverie

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean spends a few minutes waxing poetic about his beautiful girlfriend

A/N: honestly this was all inspired by one comment @deanssweetheart23 made on a photoset of Dean.  (hope you don’t mind me tagging you, just wanted to give you credit).  So thanks for that…

also, it feels really good to right for my husband again, so if anyone has any dean requests, i’ll take them into consideration, despite my crazy schedule :)

Warnings: mentions of sex, mostly just Dean being a sap.  so like, all fluff

Words: 1671 (it’s just a tiny lil thing)

tagging my dean beans @ravengirl94 and @daughterofthebrowncoats

Dean can’t fight the smile that’s creeping onto his face.  He’s staring, and he knows it’s a little weird—even if you are his girlfriend.  But something about the way you look, so focused on your book, your whole body enraptured, perched so precariously in the overstuffed armchair on the other side of the table. Something about you makes him weak.  So he allows the smile, and the blatant staring.  

You haven’t noticed yet, and Dean is grateful that your book is so intriguing, because it gives him time to study you, to make a list of everything he loves about you as he tries not the fall asleep at the uncomfortable library table.

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