tw lynch

10

Beyond the Commander’s door there is a place where women do not go. Not even Serena Joy. What male totems are kept in there? I guess there may be something he wants from me. To want is to have a weakness. That gives me hope. But I can’t stop thinking about that girl in the horror movie who goes into the basement when the light is out. The girl who thinks the boyfriend with the perfect hair is just playing a sexy prank. “Justin, are you down there?” and then she descends with a stupid smile to her bloody end. That girl is a fucking moron.

Please, God. Don’t let me be a fucking moron.

People say all the time, ‘Well, I don’t understand how people could have tolerated slavery?’ 'How could they have made peace with that?’ 'How could people have gone to a lynching and participated in that?’ 'That’s so crazy, if I was living in that time I would never have tolerated anything like that.’ And the truth is we are living in this time, and we are tolerating it.
—  Bryan Stevenson, 13th on Netflix

skippinginclouds  asked:

when you have time, would you ever be willing to talk about how you think ronan and renee each view religion? like what it means for them/what they get out of it/why they choose to follow it when so many other people (esp their age) don't seem to?

you betcha babe, I’m gonna give a little of my experience for ref, if that’s okay?

There are only three things that lodge in my mind about the ten years of my life I spent going to church every Sunday:

1. I got to dress up, Sunday best, pinched cheeks as my accessory. If I was lucky they’d let me and one of my brothers carry the candle and bible to the front, and I’d have a staring contest with the flame while we trailed after the choir procession. Everyone watched, endeared by the children symbolically carrying protestantism in their chubby hands. I liked that church was gaudy. I liked that there was a script, and that I got to sing and shake hands with strangers.

2. If there’s a God, I thought he belonged to me. He was the helpline that was always open. Religion was offered up to me like a wish-granting factory. Believing in something is hard work, and it kept me entertained, for a while. If I was in trouble, or if I really, really wanted something, I dialled God’s number. I had private fights with God. I wished on him and hated him and forgot him.

3. My brother and I used to sneak off and explore the church before service started. I vividly remember sneaking through the supply cupboard down what we thought were “secret” stairs. My brother is older, and I would’ve followed him even if he lead me straight past the floorboards of the musty church to hell. We found something new every week. It’s amazing what can feel like an endless gothic castle when you’re seven. Sometimes I think of my brother as he was then, clever and funny and absolutely everything I wanted to be, and I ache to be in the quiet of the church basement, asking him about the dusty props in the corner, spinning in my pretty red dress for the wall to wall mirrors, happily lied to about the secrets and magic and God all around us.

I think Renee sits somewhere around a more dedicated number two, and Ronan is a 1-2-3 — heavy on the three.

Renee wants to keep her hands busy. She tried carving herself a new future and it turned out to be a double-sided knife, slicing her hands in the process. God is more than a second chance for her, he is something to constantly, relentlessly pursue. When Renee says she’s trying very hard to be a good person, she means it. Believing in God is a struggle for her. The world is cruel (or like. the people in it, Neil, okay, same diff), and scrubbing the blood away so she can look God in the face is almost impossible when it keeps welling up (taking her friends, throwing her prayers away).

Renee needs that prayerful helpline on speed-dial. She needs the hard work or she might fade away. Religion is her new talisman, the handle of a new, sturdy weapon, and she keeps it as her defence, something to learn and use and put away when she needs to.

She’s not casually religious, she’s putting all her money on God. Christianity is really and truly all she had before she met the foxes.

It’s gruelling, being a “bad person” and believing in God, trying to understand A) what you are, B) why you’ve been made only to be treated so poorly, C) How you’re supposed to lever your burden up and keep believing, how to make amends

—which is where Ronan comes in. 

please God what am I, tell me what I am

Sometimes I think Renee and Ronan would respect each other too much to be friends.

Ronan is in a self-loathing depression a mile wide when we meet him, and he sees himself as a bad person trying to be a bad person (until the day that he fights some demons, gets some help, digs himself free, and actively tries to be good)

His life is a shitshow of loss and longing, and he’s absolutely ravenous for answers. He doesn’t even doubt God, he just wants to brawl with him for a while there, call the bastard down and piss in his cornflakes, you know

Religion isn’t hard for Ronan. It’s the number 1 I mentioned before, something he can perfect and impress with. I bet he even liked how good he looked in his crisp shirt before everything went down, unbuttoned at the collar like his father’s. He likes an honest, unrepentant performance.

I bet he was determined to believe in God that little bit more than everyone else, memorize the bible verses (he likes learning niall’s languages, and those were largely latin, holy, or slurred and drunk)

He also called passages out like his father did for being “rubbish” whenever things got too close to condemning their magic, their Otherness. He’s a selective Catholic in a lot of ways, hand-picking the good stuff because he knows that religion belongs to him, that it’s exactly what he makes it.

His dad taught him that what was in his head was the only real thing other than God. Ronan negotiates the two. When he’s brave enough, and okay enough, he pins his sexuality to God’s forehead and dares him to have a problem with it.

Renee goes to church to think, and so does Ronan. When everything gets a bit much, and gore fills their heads up, the church is their sanctuary.

Where it’s a puzzle for Renee though, it’s easy for Ronan. Old hat. He walks into the church and he feels the incense and dust fold around him like his mother’s dreamy embrace. He asks questions to the empty pews like he’s talking to his dead father. Renee walks in feeling unworthy, feeling too big for the vaulted ceilings, and she gropes for God’s hand in the dark. (The first time she prays and she feels like she’s being heard, she cries. She goes home to her new mother and cries some more, her past in tatters, her future tasting of sacramental wine.)

More than anything though, Ronan is lost in number 3′s nostalgia

As you may have gathered, Catholicism IS Ronan’s father, wow, nifty,

He goes to church for the comfort and the sting, just like visiting Niall’s grave. His religion is a relic from his childhood, when they were so arrogant about how their lives would play out.

I’ll bet you anything that Ronan walks into church, breathes in, and tastes his first swig of alcohol under his father’s watchful eye, not flinching because he wouldn’t. He sees Declan-Ronan-Matthew, heads bowed over abridged Sunday school bibles, Matthew pleasantly not following along, Declan pointing out the bad illustrations so that Ronan snorts. His mother smiling placidly and combing her hand through his hair until he focuses enough to sing hymns with the rest of the crowd. His father boasted the largest voice in the room. Declan was embarrassed. Matthew and Aurora delighted. Ronan’s mouth curled like dead leaves because his father could make a scene like no one else.

Ronan’s relationship with God can’t be snipped because it was cast in iron, welded in place by Niall Lynch when he burnt his way out of Ronan’s atmosphere. 

Renee’s faith can’t be stomped out because she’s shielding it with absolutely everything she has. (Andrew understands her faith because he gets what it’s like to protect your hope even if parts of you have to die.)

End of the day, foxes or ravens, their friends aren’t religious for a lot of reasons — not raised with it, hurts too much, they need proof, etc, etc

but they all understand the way it sits with Renee/Ronan

they know that religion is a pattern that holds them together, a someone when there’s absolutely no one, a lil flickering reminder of the things they’ve lost & hurt for

I think I lost my religious inclinations because I wasn’t willing to fight for it tbh

but man Ronan and Renee are nothing if not fighters

the gangsey dance party

ok listen we’ve already established how it starts out in this post but let me just refresh your memory:

(gay trans boy!ronan, bisexual bigender!adam, pansexual trans boy!gansey, demisexual genderfluid!henry, pansexual transfeminine!noah, demisexual genderfluid!blue)

henry is Bored and starts snooping through everybodys ipod in order to organize a dance party (and theyve also got ahold of some weed; courtesy of cheng two)(everyone has a playlist of latin music as well in their library) and here is what henry finds in everyones music library 

more under the cut :))

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Imagine Ross singing the song he wrote for you

Ross seemed nervous since he came over to your house. He brought his guitar because he came from practicing with his band R5.

You both laid down on your bed. You smiled at him “I am happy you’re here.”

He smiled back “Me too.” and leaned in for a kiss.

“I want to show you something.”, he said after a moment of silence.

“Sure.”, you said.

He grabbed his quitar and looked you deeply in the eyes. As soon as he startet to play the melody you realised that he was going to sing a song for you and probably about you or your relationship.

The song was about all the things he loves about you and your relationship. That everything is better when you’re together.

After he had finished the song he was worried that you wouldn’t like.

You smiled even more “It’s perfect. Really. I’m not lying. This song is so perfect and you’re so cute.” and you stroked his hand. He sighed in relief.

You kissed him on the lips “You are the best.”

“No you are the best and together we are the bestest.”, he giggled.

This song was going to be your new favorite song, your ringtone and your alarm tone.

obligatory raven cycle teacher AU

Okay, but—imagine medieval history teacher!Gansey, and the very first thing he says to his students isn’t a greeting, isn’t an introduction to the class, isn’t even his name, but the question: “How much do you know about Welsh kings?”

Imagine tiny, angry botany teacher!Blue, who the little raven boys poke fun of at first, whispering behind their hands, because she’s a woman, she’s so small that she looks like she could be a first year, she wears clothes that she obviously made herself, and she teaches what they think is a silly elective, an easy A, but somehow, by the end of her first year teaching, she makes sure that there are raven girls as well as raven boys admitted to Aglionby Academy, and that there are more scholarship students in general. Of course, her Raven Boys aren’t the least bit surprised. In fact, Gansey is super proud, and may or may not finally get off the topic of Glendower to start rambling about how wonderful and opinionated and smart (and pretty! did he mention pretty?) Blue is. The raven boys (lowercase) never make fun of Blue again.

Imagine Latin teacher!Ronan, who takes advantage of the fact that all of his students suck in order to (not-so-)surreptitiously hit on Adam, the engineering teacher, in Latin. Adam gets all red and flustered, and they have entire conversations (arguments) in Latin about Ronan’s lack of professionalism, and the freaking bird he lets fly around the school like she owns the place, while their students look on, slack-jawed.

Imagine engineering teacher!Adam, finally comfortable in his own skin, finally secure enough not to cringe when some smug little raven boy makes a snide remark that they think he won’t hear because of his deaf ear, and then one year, he sees this girl sitting in the back of his classroom, listening so intently. Girls are already a rarity in the school, and so much more so in a male-driven field like engineering, so he reaches out to her, trying to encourage her to speak up, but everything about her, from her lowered head to her huge, frayed sweater, screams that she’s too shy. She quickly becomes his top student, though, and he becomes her favorite teacher. Then, one day, he notices the bruises she can’t quite hide, and she meets his gaze even less than usual, one eye ringed in blue, and he holds her after class to say, “I’m sorry if it means you never trust me again, but I have to report this. I have to make sure you’re safe.” And she must see some truth in his eyes, something of that abused little boy he could never quite walk away from, because she says, “Okay.” Even after a social worker takes her into custody, he can’t quell the tremor in his hands, but Ronan wraps his own around them, and they both go home early, and Ronan holds him for the rest of the night. Eventually, she comes back to thank him, and it’s the best moment in his entire teaching career.

Imagine Noah, who was once a teacher at Aglionby too, but it feels so long ago now that he can’t even remember the subject anymore. There’s something special about the school, though. That’s why he holds on, wandering through its halls aimlessly, sitting behind desks that feel both familiar and unknowable, sitting in the teacher’s café with peers who ignore him, eating nothing, but holding on. Except, one day, teachers who can see him show up at last, and finally he’s included in their conversations when he sits next to them in the café, and he knows he was right about the school being special after all. For the first time in a long, long time, he’s happy. He’s found his place in the world.

Adam Parrish’s (real) Family

The conclusion to the Raven Cycle series left me with a lot of feelings. The biggest and squishiest of which were centered around Adam’s arc, particularly, the possession scene.

Adam, who has been physically and mentally abused his whole life, whose reoccurring fear is becoming a man like his father, is forced to live out one of his worst nightmares. While under the demon’s control, he viciously and violently attacks his friends.

“‘Fight back,’ Adam growled at Ronan, thin, desperate, an animal dragged by the neck. At the same time that his voice protested, though, his body jammed Ronan’s back against a trunk of a pine tree. ‘Hit me. Knock me down!’“

Now, this alone was sufficient to leave me a soggy, slushy, overflowing tub of emotion. But of course - there was more.

Because next, is everyone’s reaction to Adam’s sudden and violent possession. Or rather, their overall lack of reaction. Faced with an Adam who is under the control of a angry demon, an Adam who is dangerous, whose body is being used to hurt them, the gang’s initial response is inaction. Because even if Adam is dangerous, even if he is being used against them, they can’t bring themselves to harm him.

“Every beat of Ronan’s heart was an articulated part in a collapsing train. He grabbed Adam’s wrists. They felt frail, snappable, cold. The choice was death or hurting Adam, which wasn’t much of a choice at all.”

Being in Ronan’s head in this moment absolutely slayed me, and then seeing everyone elses’ reactions left me nothing more than an inarticulate puddle of feelings. Because even as Adam pleads for them to put a stop to his rampage,

“’Stop me!’ Adam begged.”

“’Just hit me,’ Adam said miserably. ‘Don’t let me do this.’”

They do everything in their power to avoid hurting him, avoid hitting him.

It seemed it should have been simple: There were four of them, one of Adam. But none of them wanted to hurt Adam Parrish, no matter how violent he had become.”

And it was HERE, RIGHT HERE that I became incapable of handling the emotions bombarding me and ascended to a higher plane of existence (probably)

Because in this moment, when Adam has given them every reasonable excuse to use force against him, when he has gone so far as to beg them to hit him, his friends refuse to do so. Adam who has spent nearly his entire life in a home with a father who hit him, who was cruel to him, who hurt him simply because he could, finally, finally has a family who treats him with kindness.

A family, self-made, who loves him unabashedly for who he is, who wants to protect him, who cares about him unconditionally, and who would never, ever, under any circumstances hurt him, not even when he asks them to. A family who is finally motivated to throw all of their efforts into stopping him, not by his violent acts against them, but when he begins to harm himself.

“Quick as a cat, it scratch-scratch-scratched at his own face. Blood beaded instantly. It was digging harder. Punishing.

‘No,’ Gansey said. He could not bear it. He ran at Adam.”

AND EVEN THEN, as they are finally containing Adam, restraining his hijacked limbs, it is not a violent act. In fact, all parties seem to be concerned only for Adam’s well-being.

“As Adam jerked his wrist in Henry’s grasp - ‘Stop, you idiot, you’re going to break it!’ - and knocked his fist back against Gansey’s teeth - ‘You’re okay, Adam, we know it’s not you!’ - Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam, pinning Adam’s upper arms against him.”

When Adam is finally contained, it is by Ronan, and instead of a violent act, it is much closer to an embrace.

tl;dr Adam finally has the family he deserves and I am a gelatinous glob of feelings.

anonymous asked:

so. the gangsey having a drinking competition. (blue can probably drink more than Ronan)

Blue can drink Ronan under the table. 

Gansey’s tolerance is surprisingly robust, but then they remember he’s a rich boy that grew up having a very modest single glass of wine with every meal “for digestion”. 

Adam doesn’t participate aside from whatever he tastes on Ronan’s lips when they kiss. 

Honestly I think Ronan is the lightweight in this group, but I think he also started drinking earlier in the day than them and was not prepared for whatever drinking game they played to maintain this competition. 

It’s cool though, Blue’s prizes include a free look at the Fox Way car on one of his off days, A dreamed thing of her choice from Ronan and a tiny statue of herself in the middle of Cardboard Henrietta. 

music blasting an electronic beat, but nothing beats as fast as my pulse under his lips, mouth trailing down my neck.
his hair is short underneath my fingers, and i tug ever so slightly, as his tongue tangles once again with mine.
there is only darkness and lips, my hand tangled in his tshirt, his palms against my back pulling me closer over the console of the car between us.
my mouth tastes of fire and of heat, desire turning my cheeks a brighter shade, because of him. him. him.

his hands leave whispers of wanting across my stomach and i ignite, tugging him closer, dissolving any space that existed between us.

i am a wildfire. he is gasoline.

—  “drop a match, i go up in flames.”
(m.b, a pynch poem)

Confronting Black Jacobins: The U.S., the Haitian Revolution, and the Origins of the Dominican Republic 
By: Gerald Horne

The Haitian Revolution, the product of the first successful slave revolt, was truly world-historic in its impact. When Haiti declared independence in 1804, the leading powers—France, Great Britain, and Spain—suffered an ignominious defeat and the New World was remade. The island revolution also had a profound impact on Haiti’s mainland neighbor, the United States. Inspiring the enslaved and partisans of emancipation while striking terror throughout the Southern slaveocracy, it propelled the fledgling nation one step closer to civil war. Gerald Horne’s path breaking new work explores the complex and often fraught relationship between the United States and the island of Hispaniola. Giving particular attention to the responses of African Americans, Horne surveys the reaction in the United States to the revolutionary process in the nation that became Haiti, the splitting of the island in 1844, which led to the formation of the Dominican Republic, and the failed attempt by the United States to annex both in the 1870s.

Drawing upon a rich collection of archival and other primary source materials, Horne deftly weaves together a disparate array of voices—world leaders and diplomats, slaveholders, white abolitionists, and the freedom fighters he terms Black Jacobins. Horne at once illuminates the tangled conflicts of the colonial powers, the commercial interests and imperial ambitions of U.S. elites, and the brutality and tenacity of the American slaveholding class, while never losing sight of the freedom struggles of Africans both on the island and on the mainland, which sought the fulfillment of the emancipatory promise of 18th century republicanism.

Soulmate au (pt.1)

It was said that when you met your soulmate, their thoughts about you appeared on your skin. The words could change over time but were impossible to remove if they still remained. And it wasn’t particularly thrilling to know your soulmate thought you were a loser.

So a good few weeks ago I received an ask and made this post and following on from that people asked if I would consider making it into a proper fic. I told them all yes, then continued to procrastinate for a month. But at last I finally got round to it, so here is part 1!

I’ve taken out a lot of the magic, except of course the soulmate concept. Please feel free to give me some feedback, introductions are so hard! 

next part

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