why we lift

Those who are Broken | Prologue

Everyone has a soulmate. Except the Broken.

↬ Word count: 972

↬ I should really stop writing…

Chapter list

Originally posted by gothdollysedits

She sat on the rickety, wooden chair in silence. Her head down with strands of blonde hair falling loose from the bun it was in. The great hall filled with around three to four dozen people, all murmuring to one another as they waited for the headmaster to enter. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared.
All these people, every single one of them looking at one another like they were either the enemy, or they were prey. Any second now one of them would leap out of their chair and attack someone for no reason.

Why?

Because they had that look of pure hate in their eyes. But not her though. No. Not her. She makes one mistake and she ends up here with everyone else. A mistake she made without really thinking. A mistake she would do again if it meant—

A red-haired girl next to her scoffed, catching her attention. “I cannot believe we are in the same room as them,” she said, a look of disgust on her face as her blue eyes scanned the room.

A brunette on the other side of the redhead leaned forward in her seat. “I know,” she agreed, an eager look on her face as if she wanted praise from the blue-eyed female, but she received nothing.

The blonde looked forward again, her hand immediately going to her wrist where the inked name would be. Out of nervousness and fear, her thumb began to rub over the name. It was calming, but not enough.

The read-haired girl spoke again, “This school should separate us from them. They’re not worth the space anyway. They’re nothing but low-life dead beats who don’t deserve to be in the presence of someone like us.”

The blonde’s eyes scanned the room. Everyone looked the same—no one looked different. However, she knew better. Somewhere in this crowed there were people that were different. People who had different fates compared to her. People who were…

“They’re Broken. People like them don’t deserve to exist,” the redhead said, shaking her head.

“I feel bad for them,” the blonde quietly confessed, only to immediately regret ever letting those words escape past her lips.

And much to her displeasure, the two girls next to her heard. “You feel bad for them?” The redhead derided in disbelief. “They deserve what they got. You know the story, don’t you?” The blonde said nothing, trying to remember what story the girl next to her was talking about exactly. The girl sighed in disbelief. “Every Broken did something horrifying in their past life to end up like they are now. Destined to die alone.” The redhead leaned back in her seat, crossing her olive-skinned leg over the other. Her black skirt rose higher. “People like us, the non-broken, did nothing wrong. That’s why we have these.” She lifted her left arm up, revealing the black inked name on her inner wrist. “Soulmates.”

“But,” the blonde began, her mind telling her to shut the hell up, “doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

The two girls laughed. “You’re joking, right?” When she said nothing again, the red-haired girl leaned towards her. “What did you do?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Excuse me?” she asked, leaning back a bit by the sudden closeness the redhead gave.

The redhead eyed her questioningly. “Everyone in this room did something bad to end up here, so what did you do?” After several seconds of the blonde fidgeting in her seat, and the two girls eyeing her, the redhead spoke, “You attacked her, didn’t you?”

The blonde froze, and that was all the redhead needed. Laughing with excitement, the redhead leaned back into her seat. “You attacked your soulmate’s girlfriend.”  

“Ah,” the brunette whispered in understanding.

“You realized that your soulmate was dating someone, and you couldn’t take it. You knew he was your soulmate, but you probably weren’t his.” The redhead eyed the blonde. “You couldn’t take the thought of knowing that your soulmate was dating someone—whether they were his soulmate, or not. That’s why you’re here.” She shook her head, laughing. “He may not be your soulmate, but be glad you’re not Broken.” She lifted her inked arm. “Welcome to Cross Academy.”

A gasp was heard, and the murmuring grew louder, drawing the blonde’s attention away from the two next to her. A small group was growing, people looking over one another to see what was happening. The blonde got up and walked towards the gathering crowd. Pushing herself through, she made it to the front. A gasp escaped her lips.

On the ground was a young girl. Her body spasming, eyes wide and practically white. Foam forming at the mouth. She continued for several minutes while people around her did nothing but watch. Finally, she went still.

The group dispersed, as if what they saw was nothing horrifying. The sound of tongue clicking came from next to her. Turning her head, she watched the red-haired girl cross her arms over her chest, shaking her head. She had no remorse for the now dead girl.

“This is why you should never associate with a Broken. They’re not worth the air you breathe, or the time they have left.” The two girls walked away.
The blonde looked around, and finally she discovered the difference. The difference between a Broken and people like her.

The Broken remained at the circle—every single one of them either frightened, angry, or both. These people were Broken. These people were the ones with the countdown on their wrist. The others who left were the ones with a soulmate—the ones who got to live.

With a bit of hesitation, the blonde left the group of Broken.

Don’t bother with the Broken. They’re going to die anyway, she told herself.

C: Read two blog posts from Bougie Black Girl about black men who have spoken out about hating darker skin black women and it honestly breaks my heart. I did this after doing very brief research on Eldridge Cleaver, who they said raped a lot of black women – many of them poor and in the ghetto –because he hated them. I’ve been trying to reconcile with my own personal struggles of black men in this country (since immigrating here) in regards to supporting them, protecting them, lifting them up when they turn around and stomp us into the ground. Like why should we continue to lift them up on our shoulders, march in the streets for them, cry for them, worship them, when they won’t do the same for us. And I just think it’s funny because someone said in a post while back that Caribbean black men and African men treat us black women better, let me tell you, I’m West Indian, and they are all the same no matter what part of the world you’re in. I’m so sick and tired of having to read those articles, of listening to my sisters cry and be heart broken over these men who will degrade us because of the color of our skin just like any other white person will but will get pissy and act entitled when we turn our backs on them. Black women are Kings and we deserve respect.

anonymous asked:

Sorry if this question has already been asked to you but what do you think Jaime menant when he says: "There are no men like me. Only me."? I honestly love this quote so much but it''s so hard to determine what he meant by that. Some people think it's arrogance, but I don't think it's arrogant to say that we're not like others, because we're all unique in our own way. I personally felt a great loneliness from this quote, what do you think?

actually no no one ever asked me that specifically so… *cracks knuckles*

first thing: I love that quote to pieces I mean I loved jaime like woah before then too but at that point it was just cemented xD that said hahaha nope arrogant my ass. okay here comes another episode of ‘janie’s unpopular opinions about jaime lannister’s true character TM’ brace yourself

okay so, let’s see the entire context and let’s recall that at this point the guy is somewhat drunk since I think he was at the point in the exchange with cat where he was fairly beyond tipsy.

“Your crimes will have earned you a place of torment in the deepest of the seven hells, if the gods are just.”

“What gods are those, Lady Catelyn? The trees your husband prayed to? How well did they serve him when my sister took his head off?” Jaime gave a chuckle. “If there are gods, why is the world so full of pain and injustice?”

“Because of men like you.”

There are no men like me. There’s only me.”

There is nothing here but arrogance and pride, and the empty courage of a madman. I am wasting my breath with this one. If there was ever a spark of honor in him, it is long dead.

now, first thing: obviously cat does not know jaime’s backstory and we know that she’s fairly wrong about pretty much all of her evaluation - like jaime has a lot of pride obviously and he’s arrogant, but his honor is far from dead as you can see later in asos and he’s not a madman. actually, he’s the only one actually speaking sense in this exchange - obviously not from cat’s pov, but tbh his reply is pretty dead-on. he is alive and ned is not, and we all know that killing aerys is what turned him into the cynical pseudo-heartless person he thinks he is these days and that he’s presented as in the beginning (pseudo-heartless because he’s not but never mind), and he’s probably spent a lot of time thinking over the fact. like it’s also obvious from his confession to brienne, but he really fucking resents having been judged that harshly over aerys. I mean:

The water had grown cool. When Jaime opened his eyes, he found himself staring at the stump of his sword hand. The hand that made me Kingslayer. The goat had robbed him of his glory and his shame, both at once. Leaving what? Who am I now?
The wench looked ridiculous, clutching her towel to her meager teats with her thick white legs sticking out beneath.
“Has my tale turned you speechless? Come, curse me or kiss me or call me a liar. Something.”
“If this is true, how is it no one knows?”
“The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king’s secrets. Would you have me break my oath?” Jaime laughed. “Do you think the noble Lord of Winterfell wanted to hear my feeble explanations? Such an honorable man. He only had to look at me to judge me guilty." 

wow. he’s totally not angry over it still, isn’t it?

thing is: no one else in the kingsguard at least in recent times as far as we know has murdered their king as he did. he has never gone and tried to correct it with anyone else because everyone judged him on principle because of it and at that point let’s remember that he had guarded aerys for two years and when he burned people in front of him he was most likely dissociating so having to kill aerys was probably the straw breaking the camel’s back to jaime’s feelings about questioning his role in the kingsguard and the likes. I mean, don’t forget that he had been questioning the whole ‘why don’t we lift a finger if the king is horrid to his family’ rules for a long time and no one else saw fit to either do something about it or voice their concerns if they had any. there’s literally no one like him because as far as we know he’s been the only KG member who ever put the entire system into question. and as far as he knows he made the right decision (he doesn’t really regret killing aerys even if he has conflicted feelings about it ie his glory and his shame) but no one else does.

now, after that he thinks that the whole oaths/honor talk is bullshit for obvious reasons and that’s why he doesn’t give a fuck (externally) if people think he has no honor. he’s gonna embrace it if that’s what they think even if deep down he loathes it - or he wouldn’t be telling that story to brienne who’s, guess what, the One True Knight & Honor Personified Except That She Is True To It And Not A Fraud in the entire continent. this stated, let’s look at the first exchange.

cat is basically telling jaime that his crimes have eternally damned him and she obviously means pushing bran, killing aerys and possibly banging his sister, but as far as jaime thinks the only one out of the three he might consider a crime is pushing bran, not loving his sister (as far as he’s concerned) or killing a madman (and I’m saying he’d consider pushing bran a crime because before he pushes him he says ‘the things I do for love’ with loathing, which would suggest he KNOWS he’s doing something shitty). so hey she’s doing exactly the same thing ned did with him ie judging him without knowing the entire story or the reasons why he committed most of his supposed *crimes*. he gives her a perfectly logical answer that also complies with his character development - at that point he’d hardly care about gods whatsoever and he hasn’t for a long time most probably. also he’s laughing the entire time which would suggest he’s finding it all hilarious in the way it is when you’re drunk and you’re already cynical in the first place. anyway, ‘why is the world so full of pain and injustice’ isn’t just aimed at cat, it could be aimed in general, because that’s most likely a question he’s asked himself since he got into the KG. it is the question someone who has to serve aerys and hates it would ask themselves.

and she replies ‘well, because of men like you’, supposing that he is the kind of horrible person that makes the world full of pain and injustice while actually the guy had to live for years serving someone who made the world full of pain and injustice and made everyone a favor when he killed aerys. so basically she went and told him that he is the same as aerys which I’m fairly sure jaime wouldn’t agree with since they’re absolutely not.

and then he tells her that there are no men like him. but like that’s literal truth - there aren’t. no one has done what he has done, no one has been reviled for it as it happened to him, no one went into the KG at fifteen and no one did the things jaime did in that specific context and he’s just telling her the truth. he’s telling her that not only he’s not like aerys, but no one else could have done the things he did and he doesn’t really want to be likened to aerys in the first place.

and as you said there’s obviously the loneliness part of it since if you look at the whole picture, jaime’s basically kept that story for himself until he told brienne. but like he kept that secret for more than ten years also because no one would have cared to hear his part of the story, and he didn’t share it even with cersei when one presumes he would since at that point he still buys into the ‘we are the same person etc’ mantra. but he doesn’t. he never has. and he’s probably felt the burden of it for that entire time, and then again if he never told others it probably was also because he thought it wouldn’t change anything. (and guess what when he tells brienne it actually does change things but never mind.) also jaime tends to keep a lot of things that end up eating him from the inside ie he never tells tyrion about tysha or never tells anyone about aerys and the likes. of course there’s no one like him. because no one’s had his experiences and no one bothered to understand them and he’s not the kind of person that makes the world a horrible place but everyone thinks he is and at that point of the story he had sort of embraced it in the ‘well they think that of me fine I’ll deliver’ sense. he meant all of that, but obviously cat was not the right interlocutor for it since she thinks he’s insane when he’s the one out of the two of them that’s talking most sense. it’s not that it’s arrogance (he’s arrogant in other ways), it’s just the way it is.

(mind that jaime is one of the few people who tends to say things straight and tends to not bullshit in his povs and grows more self-aware with the narration rather than being unreliable - he’s like one of the most reliable narrators in asoiaf tbh if you don’t count the part concerning his feelings for cersei, but he also gets progressively self-aware in that sense as well. so like he generally means 90% of what he says unless he’s deliberately lying and you know when he is, it’s his pov most of the times. I think you can generally take at face value most of the things he says and this one also counts.)

Old and New, Senior and Rookie

Super Junior Heechul

Summary : The leader of an S.M. rookie band has caught Heechul’s eye, and he’s caught hers. What type of fun would arise being on weekly idol together?

Word Count : 1,467

Originally posted by gaemerkyu-ssi

One of your members, Eun Hye, came to you with excited news. She was the maknae so she got exciting about little things like you used to. She had her phone with a video pulled up

“Weekly idol is starting a new thing! They’re taking rookie groups and bringing on multiple at once! We’re a rookie group, what if we get to go on?” she said. You admired her hopeful attitude. Your group hasn’t been on a variety show yet, however, you were scheduled to appear on After School Club soon. You watched as Astro, KNK, and 4ten attempted to dance to other groups songs. You had to admit it would be very fun to go on yourselves, paired with other groups. You were laughing with Eun Hye as you watched Moonbin and Rocky dance to Dumb Dumb better than the girl group next to them.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do Angela and fareeha being really cuddly and fluffy in bed 😊 bonus: Hana bursting in to wake up her moms

“It’s time to get up,” Fareeha murmurs into Angela’s cheek. She’s pressed against Angela’s back, arms slotted around her lover and holding her close. It’s a morning where she woke up at the perfect temperature, perfect position, and well rested. And when she opened her eyes, Angela had been waiting. Blue eyes crinkled as she smiled wide at Fareeha’s rising, and Fareeha knew she’d never get used to it.

She isn’t sure how much time has passed, only that it’s not near enough. Angela’s thick hair is still slightly damp from her shower last night, and Fareeha noses her way through blonde, citrus smelling waves to press a kiss to the back of her neck. Angela hums, hips pushing back against Fareeha’s waist. Fareeha gets the hint and holds her tighter, smiling as she kisses that pale cheek once again. “Did you hear me?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you’re ignoring me?”

“Mhmm.”

Angela bounces slightly as Fareeha’s laugh rumbles against her and buries her face in her pillow to hide her own smile. The hand wrapped over her waist shifts, palm pressing against her abdomen and toying with the elastic of her sleep shorts. From there it slides over her hip to rub circles on her thigh. All the while Fareeha presses kisses to the side of her neck, nosing stray hair aside.

“I could stay like this forever,” Angela sighs, rolling into her back so that she can see Fareeha’s lovely face. Fareeha smiles down at her, and follows Angela’s beckoning for a kiss.

“I wish we could,” Fareeha says when they part.

“Why can’t we?”

Fareeha lifts a brow, thumb jerking towards the bedroom door. “Release day. Did you forget?”

Angela’s groan is answer enough and as she pulls her pillow over her face, Fareeha straddles her waist and presses her forehead to her chest. She rests there, chuckling quietly at Angela’s grousing while dark hands roam pale sides.

“Are you ready?” She asks when Angela finally quiets. She gets a muffled mumble in return, and lifts the pillow from Angela’s face in amusement. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Angela huffs.

“Okay. Here we go.”

“Yep.”

“Right now.”

“Any moment.”

“This is us going.”

Angela’s pout cracks and she rolls her eyes as she bursts into a smile. Fareeha joins her and falls forward, embracing Angela in a heap of girlish giggles.

“You’d better not be having sex!”

Hana’s voice, always expected, rings through the door along with a series of knocks. “There’s no time for your six hour sexcapades it’s release day!”

Bested by their love for Hana, Fareeha and Angela share one last smile before Fareeha climbs off and offers Angela a hand. Six more knocks and Hana enters, peeking through her fingers before dropping her hands at finding them clothed.

“Release day!” She repeats in her lowest, slowest voice, bouncing in excitement. “Lets go.”

“We just have to drive, right?” Angela asks as she pulls her hair up into a ponytail.

“Yeah, yeah, no bras or nothing let’s just go.”

Without waiting for a response, Hana turns and heads for the car. Angela opens her mouth to call out a protest before she feels Fareeha’s arms around her. They hold her close for a moment, swaying the both of them side to side, before gliding up to grip her breasts gently.

“No bras, huh? That could make the wait in the car very interesting.”

Angela scoffs out a laugh and steps out of Fareeha’s arms, catching her by the fingers and leading her out to the car. “Come along, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

“Have plans, do you?”

Angela looks back to catch Fareeha’s wink and gives a little sway of her hips as she walks. “I do. And it involves staying in bed all day while Hana is distracted by her new game.”

“Sounds perfect.”

I specifically double and triple-checked how tall Bruce and Diana are, and of course it’s comics so nothing is canon and I keep getting corrections anyway, but goddamn does it make it tempting to just… make her shorter… every time… eventually Wonder Woman will be my height and look suspiciously Mapuche and she will be even more fierce because she will be closer to hell

I had someone tell me the other day that posting photos of myself and my client transformations is promoting bad body image.
Why?
Is my body “bad” ?
Should I be bigger, smaller, taller, shorter? Is my skin not the right colour, should my hair be blonde, do I need to be more curvy?
Am I not a “real woman” ?

Which drew me back to what I wrote last week on my blog. Societies expectations vary from person to person. They’re opinions, so why should we be judged.
I am healthy.
I am a woman.
I am happy and I love my life and my body.
I don’t promote anything but health, happiness, a fit body and an awesome attitude towards life. I want to be happy and I want everyone else to be. Why can’t we all LIFT EACH OTHER UP!
It doesn’t matter how you look, it’s how you feel and how you feel you look.
If you are healthy, if you are happy, if you feel confident in your body, if you feel lean, more toned and stronger than before…if you have energy….I’m happy for you. I hope I helped that happen. It doesn’t matter if that’s a size 10 or a size 100. If you’re a healthy and happy you’re size perfect in my eyes.
People say “you promote one body type and it’s unattainable for some” I promote fit, healthy, strong and confident. ANYONE can have that. Even the 0.01%. And even for the people who can’t workout, and have debilitating physical or mental illnesses you can still be healthy, happy and confident. It’s all about your mindset.
Let’s start a new wave of positivity and love. Let’s bring each other up as women. Just because some woman has transformed and YOU “think” she’s too skinny or too curvy. Set aside your own opinion and be happy for them. They’ve made a positive change in life. We are all women and we need to stick together.
Let’s get started NOW! #confidence

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