✦genre: fluff ✦blurb: jihoon doesn’t get easily persuaded by anyone or anything. unless your name is mentioned of course… [requested] ✦word count: 2340 ✦warning: mentions of alcohol ✦author’s note: sorry for not posting anything recently, i’ve been so stacked with work arghh D: i actually meant to finish this awhile ago, but i fell severely ill and therefore couldn’t orz, sorry!!
A raise of an eyebrow was all it took for the older male for his heartbeat to begin palpitating profusely. Seungcheol managed to hold the eye contact steadily through the dark bangs that almost shielded his own eyes from the incoming glare. There was silence between the two of them, and the tension could be felt from anyone who was within a five meter distance of the studio that they were currently residing in.
“A night out is what you need, Jihoon,” Seungcheol coaxed him softly, not wanting Jihoon to lash out at him. Though he was only a year younger than Seungcheol was, he often did much more work than the older did. Jihoon produced the group’s music and wrote most of the lyrics in their songs. He spent days cooped up in the studio that he called home - to the point that he would even skip meals to finish a song or two that he insisted he ‘had inspiration for’. The rest of the members were as understanding as possible, but even they grew worried for the one who bore so much stress on his shoulders for their success.
Sansa Stark is not, by nature, a devious woman. But sometimes impossible situations call for desperate measures. And if crushing on Jon Snow isn’t an impossible situation, well, Sansa doesn’t want to know what is.
The problem with Jon, she thinks, is that she’s known him forever. Robb had brought him home when they were only kids, and Jon had practically grown up alongside the Stark siblings from there. So by the time they hit puberty, Jon was far too bloody comfortable with Sansa to see her as anything but his best mate’s sister.
Sometimes—like when he throws an arm around her shoulders, or tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, or hugs her goodnight—it’s not so bad. Sometimes when he swears and calls her latest ex-boyfriend a dick, she thinks that maybe he’s happy she’s single again. Sometimes, when he throws a bag of her favorite crisps into her room on his way down the hall to Robb’s, Sansa can pretend that it means something more.
so there's a "christian" hate group on my campus right now and it hasn't been a great day but it did make me think of a poetry prompt, if you're interested: an angel at one of these 'god hates f*gs' protests
i don’t know if you were aware of this, but the idea of angels showing up to a ‘god hates f*gs’ protest is sorta kinda an event that actually happened.
in 1998, a young man named matthew sheppard was violently murdered for being gay outside of laramie, wyoming. the case and the trials afterward received heavy coverage in the news because of matthew’s sexual orientation, so westboro baptist protesters showed up at his funeral bearing signs that said things like ‘matt in hell’ and, you guessed it, ‘god hates f*gs.’
matthew’s friend organized a counter-protest group. they came in and formed a circle around the wbc. the catch is that they were wearing white robes and handmade white wings. the tall wings blocked out the wbc signs so that, even though you could still hear their homophobic shouting, the protest no longer looked like a protest, but like a gathering of angels. the friend, romaine patterson, would later name her activist group angel action, after this event, and the group still does this type of counter-protest today. i’m on mobile so i can’t add photos or links, but romaine’s website even includes instructions for how to make your own angel costumes for your own counter-protests.
the message there is similar to what i’d tell you to comfort you in this situation– that gay people are loved in the eyes of god, no matter how terribly anyone tries to convince you otherwise, and we deserve, in life and death, but especially life, only respect and support from christian communities. what you witnessed today is a horrendous display of uneducated bigotry, and not a true representation of god’s love, which is infinite and wholly encompassing of gay people. i hope that the future brings you less hurt and more peace and acceptance.
what i’m trying to say with all this is that sometimes the actions of human people are more powerful than any poem i could ever write about archangel michael holding a counter-protest sign. if you’re interested in reading or seeing a dramatic adaptation of the aftermath of matthew’s death, you should check out the play the laramie project, warnings for triggering material though. thank you for your time
Request: Hey!! Could you do a Liam imagine based “the girl who cried wolf” by 5sos?? thank you so much❤️❤️
Pairing: Reader x Liam Dunbar
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: SADNESS, hospitals, death
A/N: This got sadder than I planned, but I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always nice! :) And also this is before Liam became a werewolf.
All lyrics belong to 5sos!
Every time you say to me it’s over You just wanna start again, it’s just lies The girl who cries wolf every day Ignored by gravity, but in the end, don’t ask why
Liam sighed. He and Y/N had been in another fight earlier in the morning and he was feeling upset. Sitting at the bleachers with his elbows on his knees, he watched some of the boys from the lacrosse team practise. The air was chilly, since it was still pretty early in the day.
“Hey man” Liam recognized Mason’s voice.
“Hi” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off the field. Mason sighed and sat down next to him.
“Another fight?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. Liam nodded in reply.
“I don’t understand, one minute she’s telling me how much she loves me and the next she ignores all of my calls and texts. I have no idea what to believe anymore”
Mason sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been like this for weeks now. I don’t know what happend. Did I do something wrong?”
“I think you should talk to her about it. Find out what’s going on”
“You’re probably right.”
You say you wanna, but do you wanna run away? Your great escape, oh yeah Where you going? Always running Find a way to call it quits again
“What are you running from Y/N? Tell me!” Liam asked rather angry.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she replied, looking away.
“Come on Y/N, you show up to our dates late, sometimes you never show up. You lie to me about stuff. What happened to us?”
Tears were running down her face as she finally looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with so much pain.
“I think we should break up” She whispered. This was certainly not what Liam was expecting.
“I’m sorry Li, but I think it’s for the best”
“But, why?” Liam felt his heart sink in his chest, not wanting to believe the words that left her mouth.
“I can’t tell you”
“Did you meet someone else? What is going on Y/N?”
“I’m sorry Liam” she said before running off. He felt something wet on his cheek and realized that he was crying too.
Does it have to be this tragedy? This endless lost parade A castle of facade of make believe The truth is spelled out in your eyes Why don’t you just reach out and make it clear to me? What are you telling me?
Liam didn’t see Y/N at school for the rest of the week. Days passed slowly, and he felt empty inside, like someone had taken a part of him and tossed it away. It was true that they had been fighting more often than ususal, but Liam thought that they could move past that. But this? Her breaking up with him, only made him realize one thing. He loved her. He loved the way she smiled and the way she got caught up in her favorite books, everything about her just made him feel alive. Mason noticed how broken he was and did everything to cheer him up. It didn’t work.
It was early in the afternoon on Friday, when he got a call from Y/N’s mother.
“Oh thank God Liam, you have to get here. Y/N’s at the hospital” Time seemed to stop around him, and he felt his world collapsing once more.
“I’m on my way”
Rushing into the hospital he found Y/N’s mother, pacing arund the corridor. She looked up when she saw him. She had been crying.
“The doctors are in there right now” she said, nodding towards the room to the right. Liam looked over there and saw Y/N in the bed, her eyes closed. Doctors were running some tests on her. She looked weak and pale.
“They said she’s stabile for now” Her mother continued. Before Liam could reply, the doctor walked out from her room.
“You can see her now”
So look at me in the eye Is anyone there at all Is anyone there at all Cause I’m not dreaming So look at me in the eye Is anyone there at all Is anyone there at all Cause I’m not leaving
“I’m sick Liam” Y/N whispered, looking up at him with tired eyes. “I’m going to die.”
“No you’re not” He replied, taking her hand and squeezingit. Y/N smiled weakly.
“You wanted to know why I broke up with you. This is why. Liam, I only have a few months left and I didn’t want you to get hurt. I thought that if we didn’t see eachother, I wouldspareyou the pain.”
Liam closed his eyes, this couldn’t be the end. He wouldn’t allow it.
“I love you. And I want you to have a good life, get married and have kids who love you.”
“But it’s you that Iove” Liam protested weakly. “There must be something they can do. You can’t die”
“It’s just the way it is”
“I’m not leaving you Y/N. There must be a way, I won’t let this happen”
“I’m not leaving you. I love you”
Liam hugged his jacket closer to his body, the cold air surrounding him. It was a clear night, the stars shining like small diamonds in the sky. The bleachers were empty, the only one there was him. He needed time to think about everything that had happened. The funeral had been hard for him, he still couldn’t believe she was gone. The person he had loved the most. The last few months, he visited Y/N at the hospital as often as he could. He brought her favorite books and told her stories about when he was a little kid. Slowly he watched her get weaker and weaker until one day, she couldn’t take it anymore. She died in her sleep.
“I love you” Liam whispered, hoping she could hear him.
Extroverted Thinking (Te): Derek has a rational approach to the world, preferring logic to feelings whenever he has to make a choice. When they get a call or they are provided new information about the case, he’s among the first ones to react, wanting to take decisive action to find a solution, not out of mere impulsiveness. He wants to cut to the core of things and solve things as fast as possible, no matter the cost. He gets impatient when they were mislead or when the investigation is stuck, because it makes him feel ineffective, and there are not many things that could frustrate strong Te users more than inefficiency. Derek wants to find the quickest solution to get rid of the problem as soon as possible. He can be blunt when it comes to stating facts, but since his Fi has developed over the years, Derek knows when to shut up and keep his inspections to himself.
Introverted Intuition (Ni): On a crime scene, Derek is the one to start saying, “I am the killer. I want _____, and in order to do that, I have to ______”. This is the same what Will Graham does, but not to that insane extent, hence Derek won’t be driven crazy by this skill. He reanimates the scenario, walking around, feeling his way through it (Se) to get a holistic comprehension of what must have happened, all the while also seeing what he’s talking about in front of his mind’s eyes. He doesn’t care about exploring possibilities, rather his priority is shutting out every unlikely theory to reach the one ultimate truth. He never fails to catch on to Garcia’s jokes and come up with a witty response on his own. Derek always has a plan, but him acting on them is viewed as impulsiveness by his teammates at times.
Extroverted Sensing (Se): Derek is a very strong Se user—he will notice every detail that doesn’t fit, anything that’s odd and is a potential evidence to catch the murderer. He can handle weaponry very well, and has an eye to tell what bullet caused the wound. Derek loves sports—he was a star player back at high school, and he got admitted to tertiary education with a football scholarship. (He had to quit when his knee got injured.) He has great spatial vision, making it child’s play for him to find his way even in unknown areas, such as a forest. His primary focus (stemming from Te) can make him impulsive at times and thus, foil his Ni. After losing his father, Derek started exhibiting behavioral problems, earning himself a juvenile record—he fell into a loop.
Introverted Feeling (Fi): His career choice may have been based on his unconsciously operating inferior function, which makes him eager to help people. Derek hates to cry in front of his friends (even before those to whom he’s close), and he shows discomfort when the others dig into his past, ignoring Derek’s protests to leave his private life alone. He can always sympathize with the victims’ alive relatives/friends—Derek will do anything to comfort them in a way, e.g. staying for the funeral of a father. In this case, he had direct personal experience; he lost his father in early childhood, too (witnessing as he was shot to death), just like the little kid shown at the end of the episode.
Notes: Because of the strong Se, I was considering ESFP for him for a while, but he clearly has a T preference.
You've made an interesting case for why Bucky is probably not of Romanian/Jewish heritage (though people are always free to have their headcanons!). What are your thoughts however on Bucky being from an Irish Catholic background, except somewhat more prosperous than Steve's (possibly with more extended family to help during hard times) ? Also while Bucky has probably had an easier life compared to Steve, it seems unlikely the cultural or financial gulf between them would be overwhelming.
For some reason, I’ve always seen Bucky and his family being of the class of people who would be of protestant descent, given how badly Irish Catholics of all varieties were still being treated then.
To put it into a historical context, England had been supressing Ireland for a long time. Specifically the Catholics. The one way you could be allowed some degree of freedom was to reject Catholicism and accept the Church of England and Protestantism as the one true faith. Needless to say this did not go well.
Catholics were basically treated like dirt. Imagine how African Americans were treated during the Civil Rights movement: no voting, no education, no living within 5 miles of a corporate town etc. Meanwhile, their brethren who had turned to Protestantism prospered and thrived. Admittedly only to the degree the English would allow, but they were much further up the social ladder than their Catholic cousins.
So many Irish Catholics took emigration as the only way out. And, as you can imagine, this means that the majority of the Irish migrants leaving for the new world would be poverty-stricken and uneducated because of the restrictions placed on them by law. It started way back in the 18th century, and continued, through the Potato Famine, right through the increasing tensions and republican warfare against the British Crown.
So you can imagine that by the time Steve shows up, there have been nearly two centuries of poor, deprived Irish Catholics showing up. They were often so poor, they had to just settle in the first city they arrived in, because they couldn’t afford to go elsewhere, which is why New York ended up with such a massive Irish population.
Yes, many of them started clawing their way up the social ladder from the very bottom, but I think it’s very telling that to this day, in the country that was technically ‘founded’ by Puritans (aka Protestants who found the Church of England too Catholic), the USA has only had one Catholic President (JFK).
And so, back to the Bucky question, it comes down to the same issues I have with the idea of Bucky being of Jewish descent. He just feels too confident in himself and who he is to come from a background that is still being so actively oppressed. Sure, maybe he’s several generations down the line, come into money, and less pious, but something about it doesn’t feel quite right.
This is a guy so confident in his social standing that he doesn’t care that he’s hanging out with the Irish asshole. He doesn’t have to care about his reputation, because he’s still going to be treated with respect regardless. He is pretty much middle-class white American male. You can see it in the way not!Clara dotes on him. You can see it in the way he dresses and carries himself. You can tell from the way he gets promoted straight to sergeant.
The class difference between Steve and Bucky is massive. Steve has to spend his whole life fighting to be recognised because of his background and his appearance and his health issues, whereas Bucky just walks into a situation and is immediately full-confidence and raised through the ranks.
And Bucky would never even think of it, because it’s never been a problem for him, but for Steve, who is lower, even working-class, he can’t understand it. He sees anything Bucky does for him as pity rather than friendship: oh, help the poor little Irish kid. He doesn’t grasp that Bucky could befriend him because he likes him, because why would someone from further up the social ladder do that? He appreciates it, but he sure as hell doesn’t understand it.
The way I see him is old-fashioned Anglican stock, or perhaps even of Irish Protestant descent, even though the migration of Irish Protestants was less common than Irish Catholics for the simple reason that they didn’t need to leave to have the freedom to live.
He’s not especially religious himself, but it’s a long-standing family tradition, and Bucky is very much about doing what’s expected of him (like signing up for the army. He sure as hell didn’t want to be there, but he knew he had to). He’s the kind who would go to the Church with his family on Sundays, dressed up in his Sunday best (aka the suit from the post-funeral scene). He would know the hymns and recite the scriptures because it makes his mother proud, and as soon as he was done, sneak off to catch Steve coming out of Mass, kicking at a can and grumpy as hell.
But yis. This is all headcanon, and it’s pretty much how I’ve always seen him :)
people are like “yeah Fred Phelps was awful but be considerate of his family who are mourning his death, they just lost someone” like okay do you not know that he was the leader of a family based church organization who protest the funerals of soldiers who have served our country because “god hates fags” and said that the man who did the Sandy Hook shooting, where 28 innocent children and adults were killed, was “a man sent from God to punish the state of Connecticut for being one of the first states to allow fag marriage” and planned to picket the funerals of the victims and “sing of God’s victory” like no I refuse to feel remorse for this awful human being and his awful family goodbye
AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Wow? Two in one day? Lisa, are you not suffering writer’s block anymore? I would give a tentative no. I just felt like writing this one down. It’s okay in length. Hope to hear what you think!
“I would like for no protesting going on,” Michael Brown Sr. said during an interview on Hot 104.1 FM, a hip-hop radio station in St. Louis. “We just want a moment of silence that whole day. Just out of respect for our son.”
Brown went on air this morning with the Demetrious Johnson Show, which runs from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m.
Michael Brown’s funeral is set for 10 a.m. on Monday, Aug. 25, in a church in St. Louis that can accommodate up to 4,500 people. Three White House officials, Rev. Al Sharpton, and thousands of community members are expected to attend.“
The Lateness of the Hour A Dean/Castiel AU Word Count: 4,2K Rating: PG-13 [AO3]
Even as a child, Castiel didn’t sleep well. He would toss and turn until the very first light of dawn, when he would finally find a tenuous, restless sleep. His mother often despaired of him, blaming her deadbeat husband for everything that was unusual about her son.
“He passed on all the bad genes,” she’d told him once, tucking him into bed and ignoring his mumbled protests. “You, my son, will be like him. An outcast poet. Too caught up in your own tortured soul to realize that life is going on around you.”
It was said without bitterness, simply a calm kind of resignation.
Naomi had passed away two years later. His father hadn’t shown up to the funeral, and Castiel had never become much of a poet. (x)
Ask Democrats if Mitt Romney should continue fighting for what he believes in, and the resulting laughter could power a city for a month. Ask Republicans the same thing about Obama, and their dumbfounded looks could only be described as “otherworldly.” See, to the opposition, those people aren’t “fighting for what they believe in.” They are the personification of evil whose only goal is the total destruction of the morally sound.
From the other side, they’re not heroes – they’re zealots, because they refuse to compromise, and compromise is what allows humanity to function. And compromise starts from recognizing that the other guy has the same “True heroes never back down!” bullshit going through his head. Even the fucking Ku Klux Klan believe that what they’re doing is morally correct. So do people who bomb abortion clinics, or protest at military funerals, or scream “God hates fags!” under picket signs that look like they were written in blood and feces. Adolf Fucking Hitler fought to the death for what he believed in, and it redefined our perception of evil.
So if you want to “never stop fighting” for something, how about going on a lifelong crusade to make absolutely sure you’re not the Hitler in this situation?
For swingsetindecember. (Full disclosure: I gave up on Teen Wolf before the finale and officially reject the canon and replace it with my own.)
Stiles won Derek a fish at the county fair. Well, that’s not true. Stiles couldn’t win a rigged game which relied on precision or aim in this universe or the next, but Allison was very capable of carefully lobbing ping pong balls into fish bowls. And she proved it, after Stiles bribed her with two funnel cakes.
“It’s a Betta Fish,” he said as he presented it to Derek still in its plastic bag. “Get it?”
I honestly feel sorry for the family of Fred Phelps. Yes he had douche-y opinions and he was such a bad man but guess what? His family still deserve the respect of being able to bury a loved one without so much hate.
I honestly think being so disrespectful by protesting at his funeral is just making you look as bad as he did. The man is dead, you protesting at his funeral is doing nothing but harm just like he did when he protested.
You all are freaking out so much that he’s dead and how great it is but just think about how people who loved him feel before you decide to make jokes or say how great it is.
TL;DR Fred Phelps was an awful man but his family still should be able to bury him without receiving masses of hate.
There’s a first time for everything, whether in regards to writing Sollux as the POV character and EriFefSol. I love the pairing, but I’ve always had trouble with Sollux so I’d never written it, but I got hit with inspiration at about 4am today and ended up typing this out. Hopefully the minor tense shifts aren’t too disorienting or all over the place. If you have any triggers, check the tags on AO3.
I feel like Sollux’s psychic powers could manifest somehow in humanstuck, and even though I’m not convinced by Freud’s dream theory, it’s plausible in this situation. That doesn’t mean his dreams always right, though. Poor Sollux.
(Edit: I’m so mad at myself right now because I forgot that italics don’t cross over when you copy and paste from AO3, and I didn’t notice the lack of italics in the Tumblr version until 12 hours after I posted it. It’s fixed now, but I’m going to go bang my head into a wall.)
You hate dreams that have layers. Some nights, you think you’ve woken up ten times before you’re actually awake, and with each one you wonder how you didn’t realize you were still dreaming. When you finally open your eyes for real, the first thing you do is sit up, carefully pulling your legs away from Feferi’s so you can look on the other side of her.
The fact that he’s still there, sleeping curled up on his side as he drools on FF’s shoulder, removes a lead weight from your chest, and you sigh quietly in relief. You thread your fingers through your hair, reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and check the time. 5:00am is too late for you to go back to sleep but too early for you to wake up Feferi, so you carefully get out of bed and head into the laundry room. In the clean clothes pile, you find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that belongs to Eridan. Usually, you don’t wear his clothes because you look like an emaciated stick in his shirts that are meant for his broader shoulders, but it smells like him so you don’t care. Before you make a conscious decision to do so, you head outside and start walking.
“Am I Wrong” also recalls a soul classic from the dawn of the 1970s: “O-o-h Child” by the Five Stairsteps. That song is one long journey up the hill toward the sun, a lullaby leading to the morning, its mood of joy established through a swelling melodic build like few others in pop. Currently back in our ears as a fun feature on the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy, “O-o-h Child” was never a protest song. Yet it’s found a fascinating place in the culture, as an exhortation to keep going even in times of unrest. Director John Singleton milked it for painful irony in a key scene in Boyz n the Hood, when the child Tre watches two of his friends carted off by police for shoplifting as the song plays on his father’s car radio. Spike Lee used it too, inCrooklyn, during the funeral of the film’s family matriarch. Tupac sampled it in “Keep Ya Head Up,” his ode to inner-city survival. Janet Jackson tapped into it in “Truth,” her ballad about living past a bad romance.
It’s doubtful that “Am I Wrong” will have the deep afterlife of “O-o-h Child” — it doesn’t have that song’s captivating integrity. But like so many hits whose meanings seem to adapt to fit their moment, it’s here now, for the many different listeners who might need it. Protest takes courage and focus. Pop is all about commodification: the soft center of what adapts. But sometimes, when history collides with it, a simple song gains dimension. To paraphrase Nico & Vinz, that’s just how listeners feel.
The Protesters are being lumped in with Rioters The Riots are getting worse Gangs have threatened the police Police have actually been injured! The Protesters peaceful movement is at a stan still because of these individuals
Im deeply upset, Im an African american from Baltimore….I do not condone this mess it does us no Good! Where is the respect, Freddie Gray’s family asked for no uproar ! Today was his funeral let the man rest in peace…
The media, keeps calling these people protesters, they are NOT PROTESTERS!!!!
LABEL This group AS RIOTERS!!!!
I’m so afraid that marshal law will step in…. i just wish all this anger could be directed to something that matters like
*the killing in our own community *Uplifting young black men and women *Keeping the young of the streets *having more education in our community *protesting the right way about senseless killings from police
i just hope all the peaceful protesting that did happen all week and saturday don’t get overshadowed by these dumb and useless riots!
Before you comment about Baltimore please do understand that it is really Riot Vs Protesters Vs Police
Im so embarrassed but I can’t hold my silence anymore….