you are more than what society tells you your race is supposed to be

Between Us And Infinity

Originally posted by theseoks

Genre: Angst/fluff || soulmate!au / street performer!tae

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Length: 35.7k

Summary: Place two strangers together and give them seven days to fall in love, and they will be soulmates for the rest of eternity, otherwise, neither of the two will come to love anyone ever again; The Seven Days Countdown has always been an old wives tale to you and nothing more, but all of that changes once you meet Kim Taehyung in the midst of a crowd of thousands. From then on, your life is thrown into a race against time, not only on a mission to beat the clock in falling in love with the renowned heartthrob, but also on a quest to make him fall in love with you.

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How to research your racially/ethnically diverse characters

chiminey-cricket asked:

Do any of you have any tips for doing independent research for PoC characters?

This question is super broad, but I’m going to see if I can give it a crack!

First of all, consume media by the group in question. If you want to write a story with a Chinese-American protagonist, read some blogs by Chinese-Americans, read books by Chinese-Americans – both fiction and nonfiction – lurk on places like thisisnotchina so you can get a feel for what pisses Chinese and Chinese diaspora people off about their portrayal in the media, google for stereotypes about Chinese people and try to make sure you’re not doing those (even positive ones), go more general (East-Asian all-of-the-above in general since in many cases the harmful tropes overlap), go more specific (if your protagonist is female, look specifically for blog posts featuring the opiniosn of Chinese-American and other Asian/Asian diapora women; same if your protagonist is attracted to the same sex, is transgender, or deals with any other form of oppression besides anti-Chinese racism.) All of the above applies to Latinxs, Native Americans/Canadian First Nations, African/African diaspora people, Jews, Muslims, etc. Find out what we’re saying about ourselves.

Lots of things are available just from Google. “I have a Black character and I want to know what kind of hairstyles are available for her!” We have a Black hair tag, but apart from that, googling “Black hairstyles” will probably bring up some articles that can at least give you a good starting point to learn some vocabulary to add to your next Google search, like “natural” and “twists” and “dreadlocks.”

Next, you can talk to people in the group, but before you do this, be sure to have some specific questions in mind. “How do I write a Jewish character?” is not a specific question. “Do I have to make my Jewish character follow kosher laws if I’ve made her religious in other ways, or can she go to shul but not keep kosher?” or “What’s a term of endearment a parent might use for a child in Yiddish?” is much more specific. Remember, if you’re talking to someone they’re answering you back with their free time, so expecting them to do most of the work of figuring out what’s most important for you to know is a little entitled.

Besides, a more specific question will give you a more helpful answer. If someone asks me “how do I write a Jewish character” one of the first things out of my mouth will be a list of personality stereotypes to avoid, which isn’t going to be very helpful if what you really need for your fic was whether or not you have to write your character as following strict kosher laws.

If you’re sending a question in to a writing blog or one of those race blogs like thisisnot[whoever], please read through their tags and FAQ to see if they’ve already answered it. Longtime followers of a blog would get very bored if all the blog’s content was nothing but “We answered that here last week at this helpful link!” Those who participate in answering these blogs are usually unpaid volunteers who provide a resource that’s already there to help people; help repay them for what they do by looking through the material on your own first.

How to tell if a source from outside the group is biased and bigoted: obviously, you’re not going to want to listen to Stormfront about Jews, or the KKK about, well, anything. If you’re not on a source created by the group in question, look for dry and academic language as opposed to emotional, informal, or inflammatory words – although dispassionate and technical language is no guarantee it won’t be racist, colonialist, or inaccurate. If you read enough books and blogs from the inside, though, you’ll probably see some of the myths from those other sources debunked before you even encounter them.

Lastly, don’t assume that all people who are Asian, African-American Christians, religious Jews, or Muslims are from cultures more oppressive, more conservative, more patriarchal, more homophobic, more sexist, or more controlling than the one in which you were raised. If your plot calls for homophobic parents or a repressive culture, that shouldn’t be the reason you make your character one of the groups listed. There is plenty of oppressive, anti-woman, and anti-queer thought in white American Christian/Christian-cultured society and personally, I believe such criticisms of the marginalized diaspora peoples I listed above belong in the voices of the cultures themselves.

–mod Shira

I’d not leave looking for dry and clinical information as the ONLY means to distinguish that a work is biased.

While yes it is pragmatic to say “look for academically toned wording,” … in addition to that, these folks really need to look into who the author is. Definitely look into the author. And the year the thing was published (because man if it’s from like the 60s or earlier, 9 times out of 10, throw that shit out).

Because people can disguise hatred and racism in careful diction so that it looks reasonable and polite. A shining example is physiognomy studies from Nazis and anti-Semite eugenecists. And the sad thing is, you really can’t trust people to read it and make the judgement call that this hate-in-disguise they’re reading is hate.  

Somehow, when someone says, “The people of the Levant express features such as […] which, at the risk of sounding untoward, suggest a very rodent-like persuasion,” people are like, “Oh, well, that was worded fancily and there was no angry or profane language, I suppose they’re right,” not stopping to think even for a moment that they just accepted that this book just said to them that Jews look like rats. I saw it happen in my Nazi Germany class when we were given reading material. It was fucking nuts.

So definitely, definitely look every outsider author in the mouth and cross-check any and everything that person says. 

–mod Elaney

Shira again: Elaney is right that you will want to be critical of outside sources, especially older ones. Also, be suspicious of blanket statements about a group such as “X group are” instead of discussing forces in X culture. For example. Because there’s going to be diversity within any group and it’s likely what’s being said isn’t inherently biologically linked to being in X group.

–mod Shira

Humans are weird: The Forgotten World

*Quick note before I start: This is the 2nd installment in a series I’ve called the Lost Colonies which is largely about human society adapting to the strange environments of other worlds. You can read the other installments here: 13, 4, 5, 6, 7. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing this series, but with my new work schedule I had to bring it to a close. If you’ve enjoyed this story follow me on here for my other writings. Thanks again to everyone who has reblogged, liked, replied, DMed, or otherwise shown their appreciation for this series. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed it and the love you’ve all shown me has really helped keep me going for these last few months.*

Jeanne had been sitting for nearly half an hour in stony silence glaring at the Turic across from her. She had been in interrogation rooms before, never one this nice though. Her eyes kept taking in the room any time he looked away as she scanned for anything she could use as a weapon. She had never had to fight a Turic, or any alien really, but it paid to be prepared.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Food? Water? Our scans indicate that you are lacking in several nutrients required by humans for optimal health.”

The door opened and a human woman she didn’t recognize came in. Of course they would use a human to be the “bad cop”. Well this slag wouldn’t get anything out of her.

“Thank’s for keeping her company Kit’cha, took forever to get here.” The woman smiled at the Turic and they did some kind of secret handshake before the Turic left the room. The woman turned to Jeanne and smiled again before sitting down. “Sorry to keep you waiting Miss…” she glanced at the file on the desk “Jeanne. Do you have a last name or something you prefer to be called?”

Jeanne met the questions with more silence.

“I understand that re-acclimating to interstellar society can be rough, but that’s why I’m here. My name is Kiara Williams and I am the special liaison between the galactic council and what’s being called ‘The Lost Colonies’. I just want to assure you that we’re all here to help and you don’t have to be scared of any of the alien races you’ll see aboard this station, they’re all friendly, especially the Turics like Kit’cha.”

Jeanne settled back into her surprisingly comfortable chair with her arms folded and glared at Kiara. It had taken her years to perfect this look and it felt like a waste to use it on someone as soft as her, but she knew better than to give any information to a cop, or worse, a shrink. Kiara, for her part, just smiled again and made a note in the file.

“I get it, I do. Finding out that there are other alien races out there and that you’re part of a larger galactic community can be a little jarring. When my colony was found it took years for some of my closest family to warm up to those outside our species, but now that we’ve opened up to the galactic community we’ve managed to make huge strides in settling worlds that were previously thought to be inhospitable and exploring some of the unknown reaches. We don’t know much yet about your colony, but I’m sure we can learn a lot from each other.”

Jeanne ground her teeth together as she mulled over what Kiara had said. There was a long moment of silence before Jeanne finally spoke.

“I already know about the aliens, and about other humans, never saw them of course. You keep saying lost colony and shit. Are you telling me you don’t know why we were on that planet?”

Kiara shook her head and spun the file around so Jeanne could read it. “From what I was told on my way here, there was an underground human colony detected on a planet orbiting a red dwarf star. Apparently the communication array was destroyed several hundred Sols ago and the surface was inhospitable to human life due to the high levels of radiation from the nearby star. We only detected it due to the unique formations on the surface that corresponded to human architecture. We assumed that it was a self sustaining scientific outpost that had managed to get stranded. As usual the rest of the search team was surprised anyone could live there until they realized that it was humans. It’s unfortunate that we don’t have records of your colony though.”

Jeanne narrowed her eyes but uncrossed her arms as she looked over the file. Either this Kiara was one helluva bullshit artist or they genuinely didn’t know what PX-9 was.

“We were never a research colony or any of that shit. PX-9 is blacksite prison run by EarthGov. My father says that the warden robots destroyed the comms array and the transport during a riot a few generations back. We’ve been stuck on that prison ever since. A few riots later and we managed to take out the warden robots too. That was a long time ago. Doesn’t matter though. We found the databases and prison logs. According to EarthGov law, anyone born in that prison is automatically guilty of their parent’s crimes so I’m stuck there. You seem like a nice person. You should probably take me back before they find a reason to lock you up too, if they haven’t already.”

Kiara’s jaw dropped as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I’m so sorry Jeanne, both your people and to you personally. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be born into that, but I want you to know that you don’t have to go back if you don’t want. No one will make you. EarthGov hasn’t existed for over 200 Sols.”

From the outside Jeanne appeared as composed as she had all day. Someone who knew her well enough would have recognized the twitch in her lip and would have known to take a few steps back. On the inside her heart was pounding and her mind was racing. What did she mean EarthGov didn’t exist? Jeanne had spent a long time learning to read people, it was an important skill to have when you needed to know who you could trust in a fight. Kiara didn’t seem to be lying about any of this. Could she trust Kiara? IF she could trust Kiara, what would happen to the people on PX-9 once whatever government was in place found out about it? “Suppose I believe you. What now? What happens to me and my family?”

Kiara smiled again, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “When EarthGov fell we lost a lot of records of colonies, research outposts and apparently prisons as well. Most of them still had communications, but some either lost them or purposefully never set them up to avoid the government so we keep finding pockets of humanity in the most surprising places. I was on one of those planets 20 sols ago and ever since I’ve been one of the specialists they call in to help people find their way in the galactic community. I don’t know yet where we can send you if you don’t want to stay on PX-9 though there are plenty of beautiful worlds I’ve found that could use the ‘human touch’ if you and your family are willing. First though, we would like to know more about you and your society.”

“Leaving would be… good. I want that in writing.”

Kiara nodded “Will do. I’ll send a message to my contacts on the galactic council and get set up with some priority transport ships to get as many people offworld as want to leave. We’ll find a planet that will work for you and your people. Several if necessary. Also I can personally guarantee you that no one will be held accountable for the actions of their ancestors, that’s just not the way we do things anymore.”

“What- What if” Jeanne’s voice broke for a moment as some darker thoughts came rushing in. “What if we did some things that might be against the law of your galactic council. I’m not saying I did, just that suppose someone like me had to do something, something they’re not proud of, in order to get by. What then?”

Kiara thought for a moment before finally speaking. “We haven’t run into this situation before. PX-9 is the first, and hopefully only, prison colony we’ve found so far. I would hope though that we can use this to set a positive precedent and grant some kind of clemency for people unjustly imprisoned by a defunct government. I’ll have to get clearance but as long as someone that ‘had to do certain things in order to get by’ is able to abide by the laws of the Galactic Republic then I think we should be able to work something out.”

The only thing holding Jeanne together at this point was a lifetime of conditioning to suppress her emotions.

“I still have a few cycles before we’re back in comms range of the council so we’ve got some time. I understand you’ve got a lot to process so if you don’t want to talk that’s fine but at some point before you leave I’d like to know more about you and your society. It will help us find out how to best help you find your place in the galaxy.”

Jeanne’s mouth twitched up, starting to form a smile. She stood up from the table and took Kiara’s hand. “Get it for me in writing shrink. Then we’ll talk.”

SnK 90 Thoughts

Have you ever had this perfect story idea in mind, then realized that in order to get to it, you have to write basically an entirely separate book to set it up?

Have you ever decided that you really don’t feel like doing that?

Usually, that is when the words stop and the project goes into a desk drawer. Mostly a figurative one these days.

But–bear with me here–what if

You just skipped all the boring parts.

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Damian Wayne/ Robin X Reader- Murder Kitten

After this post, there will only be 2 requests left!! Yay!!!!!  Also, this was requested by @abigailredgrave, who requests some pretty awesome stuff!!! I hope you guys enjoy this and have a nice day!!!!  If I am counting this right, THIS IS MY ONE HUNDREDTH FANFIC!!!! YYYAAYYY!!!

Warning: Swearing 

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Kintsugi (n) ­ The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 32,683

Warnings: Depression is a constant theme in this story, so if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable then please keep it in mind!

Author’s Note: The Taekook version is now up on AO3 if you’re interested!

Summary: Jungkook never expected to meet her, the girl that shone as bright as a million suns yet carried a darkness so heavy in her heart that it left her soul shattered, scrambling to pick up the splintered pieces and put herself back together again before she fell apart again. He never expected to meet her, but he did, and he wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Fridays nights were supposed to be a student’s greatest sanctuary – a time for winding down and finally breathing after the weight of a week that seemed to be never ending had been lifted from their shoulders. Some chose to party until they no longer remembered who they were, some chose to have movie marathons until the sun was high in the sky and their eyes were burning from the pixels that were now ingrained in their brains, and some chose to bask in their solitude and block out the world until Monday came around and forced human interaction again. Whatever it was, it was supposed to be that one moment of freedom before reality came crashing down once more.

It was supposed to be relaxing.

It was supposed to be calming.

It was supposed to be rejuvenating.

So what, pray tell, was sitting curled up on the floor against the wall in the hall, shivering in nothing but pyjamas with murderous thoughts as her sole company?

Anything but that.

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anonymous asked:

your friend receiving shock therapy isnt a form of ace oppression. it's misogyny because of the expectations put on women to marry men and have children. it would be ace oppression if ace men faced the same thing, but i have yet to hear of such a story happening. cishet ace/aro people dont face the same oppression that LGBT people face, and people wrongfully label the issues that ace women face as "ace oppression" when it's actually misogyny because those things happen to non-ace women as well.

Nope. It’s an intersection of asexuality and sexism. No one would want to ‘cure’ a woman who said that she was interested in a relationship, but just hadn’t found the right one yet. They would just be trying to set her up with people! People wouldn’t say she’s broken, they would say she’s picky. 

It’s probably worth noting that my friend’s family eventually basically turfed her out of home and have nothing to do with her. She’s Chinese, so that’s a big fucking deal because the extended family were heavily involved in bringing her up. I think she still sees one of her aunts. Can you please tell me how often that’s happened to a woman who just hasn’t found the right man?

The shock therapy was because my friend said she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and didn’t think she’d ever be. I also think she may have told her mum that she had never been interested in anyone and found the idea of sex repulsive while she was trying to explain why she wasn’t interested (although it’s been like 17 years or something, so I forget the specific details). 

It’s more acceptable for a man to be single, but ace men face a different sort of oppression: they feel emmasculated because they don’t experiences this Raw Animal Sex Drive they’re supposed to. Male identity is so tied to sexuality, and so rated on sexuality and sexual experiences, that you can’t discount how much that would impact someone who isn’t interested in women and/or sex. 

Just use google: you’ll find examples of women asking yahoo and other advice columns what’s wrong with their boyfriend because he doesn’t want sex and doesn’t seem to find them attractive. The advice is almost always a mix of “DUMP HIM AND FUCK ME!” and “Oh, he’s probably stressed/out depressed,” and “oh, maybe there’s something wrong with YOU, are you taking care of yourself?”

Do you know what it’s like to be an ace man with your girlfriend SOBBING because she feels unattractive to you, and therefore unattractive in general? Women’s conventional worth is defined by their sexual attractiveness, and for a man to feel like he can’t make the person he loves feel attractive because he’s NOT attracted to her, or not attracted to her often, or doesn’t like sex…

Dude, wtf is wrong with people? 

Asexuality is so clearly it’s own special oppression. Sure, it intersects with sexism (as well as a bunch of other -isms, as all oppression can intersect), but it has sexuality characteristics that are unique. 

Just as trans people of colour face worse queer oppression than white trans people do because their oppression intersects with their race, ace women face worse oppression than ace men because it intersects with sexism. 

The fact one person’s oppression is WORSE does not invalidate the oppression of the other person

This is not the oppression olympics, we’re all getting fucked over, here. 

Our society is flooded with sexuality. We’re constantly bombarded with messages about frequency of sex being tied to relationship health and personal identity. To be excluded from that for any reason is very isolating. 

No More and No Less

[No Angel] [No Comebacks] [No More and No Less]

pairing: rafael casal x reader

request: many many (very…enthusiastic) requests for part 3 of no angel

summary: rafa has been teasing reader while she has work to do, then reader returns the favor

warnings: swearing, smut, dirty talk, face fucking, D/s

word count: 4,938

a/n: part three of the “No Angel” series. will make sense without the first two parts, but i suggest you read them first. this is mostly just smut, and i would say sorry except that i really am not. it goes without saying that i still want rafael casal to bone me. happy reading.

“There’s no way that Professor Hopewell expects this paper to be completely coherent,” Ava groans, a hand threading into her hair in frustration. “A comparison of Leo Tolstoy and Vladimir Nabokov? It’s apples and fucking oranges.”

“They’re both Russian,” you offer up meekly. Truth be told, you have no clue how you’re supposed to tie them together. All you know was that this paper is worth thirty percent of your grade, and you can’t afford to get anything less than a B.

“They’re from different time periods,” she huffs, flipping angrily through the pages of Anna Karenina.

You don’t respond to her, instead sinking back into the novel open in front of you. Thoughts of your lazy morning flood into your head, and you struggle to tear your mind away from the way Rafa had woken you up by slipping under the covers and settling between your naked thighs. You’re marking a particularly interesting passage with a sticky note when your phone buzzes on the table.

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helenrenee  asked:

Hello, I am writing a 'Apocalypse' story that also has mythical creatures in it and I am unsure how strong I should make them compared to humans. One of the main characters is a 16 year old Elf who was trained since he was ten, and I don't want him to be too strong. Elfs can use Runes and subtle illusions in my story. I am unsure on the power levels of other Mythical creatures (like Fae, Ghouls, Centaurs, Merpeople and Chimera) as well.

They should be as strong as the story requires. There is no concrete answers here, just world building, which is, ultimately, on you.

Let’s start with your main character. Elves (or Elfs, if you prefer) aren’t real, so they don’t age at a fixed rate. Which means, saying he’s 16 years old isn’t that useful. I understand the intent behind your statement, but it’s probably important to step back for a minute.

If we’re taking D&D’s setting basics, and running with those, a 16 year old elf is a small child. Conversely, D&D’s perfectly happy to call a 16 year old human an adult. This is, of course, assuming your setting’s elves aren’t completely ageless, come into existence fully matured, and then never change.

It’s worth remembering, when you’re building a fantasy setting, that you control all of the variables. Sure, your human characters should, probably, come across as mostly human, in most cases, but even that’s not set in stone. Accusations that Aragorn is unrealistic are fairly rare, and this is a character who’s in his 80s. (And, yes, there’s an entire internal justification for that, but Tolkien’s race of Men aren’t really human. They’re another flavor of mythical beings, like his elves and dwarves. Aragorn is a step further from that, but the point stands.)

When you’re talking about elves, that’s a very open topic. Depending on your source of inspiration, that could be anything from beings that are basically human characters, that have access to very advanced magic or technology (and no, this isn’t an oblique Stargate reference), a variety of fae, normal people who’ve been altered by some release of magical energy, or just another sentient species wandering your world. It’s up to you to define who and what they are, in your setting.

This also spills over into what sets them apart from a “normal” character. What your elves are is influenced by what you want to talk about. (Because your main character is an elf, their nature is far more important than if they were a minor side element in your setting.) Once you have that, then you can start to extrapolate how your elves are different from other beings in your setting. This could be as simple as your character being lumped in with the other mythical beasts and viewed as a different flavor of monster by the people he’s trying to save (or not), or it could be a coming of age story. This will seriously influence what your elves are. How alien they are. How they age. What their society looks like. It also affects how strong they are. Depending on what you’re creating, it’s entirely possible your character is already a superhumanly powerful engine of destruction by 16, whether he has the emotional maturity to handle that or not. In turn, that would seriously influence how elves are perceived by others in your setting. Or, he could still be a small child. Where he lands between these points is something that needs to fit the story you’re trying to tell.

To varying degrees, the same is true of the other creatures in your world. If they’re supposed to be incredibly powerful, to the point that normal beings can’t even slow them down, the apocalypse is an extinction event in motion, then that’s your answer. If they’re more of an environmental hazard that a well equipped group can deal with, again, that’s your answer. If they’re a nuisance that only becomes a serious problem in large numbers, you get the idea. In practice, you’ll probably want a mix of these things, depending on what your setting needs. It’s entirely reasonable that you’ve got fairly common threats like ghouls that can be dealt with, while still having far more powerful beings like titans or leviathans wandering the world wrecking things. How these interrelate will be influenced by the story you want to tell.

World building starts with the idea of wanting to tell a story, and having a vague idea of what you want to talk about. Then extrapolating a world that supports those ideas. Finally, you go back through and start nailing down the fine details, like, “how powerful are these monsters?” or, “how did people react to their arrival?”

This leaves me in a slightly awkward place: without knowing what you’re trying to do, you’re asking for some of the final detail work without knowing what you wanted to do in broader strokes.

At a very basic level, the more powerful the creatures are, the more severely isolated human communities will be. I’m using power as an aggregate here, endless swarms of easily dispatched monsters that will overwhelm and obliterate can be more effective than a skyscraper sized behemoth that shrugs off any injury.

At the extreme end, humans may be restricted to a handful of small enclaves, and extinction could be imminent. On the other hand, you could easily have a setting where survivors have retaken and fortified entire cities, with heavily armed caravans wandering between, and smaller enclaves scattered across the world.

It’s entirely possible you’re setting up an environment like The Witcher. There are monsters, but they’re more of a pest than a real threat, and the apocalypse which unleashed them on the world is a dim memory.

There’s an old cop-out answer on physics exams, “the problem cannot be solved with the available information.” That seems to apply here. When you’re building your world, you have the  ability to shape it to fit your narrative. Think about the kind of story (or stories) you want to tell in it, and build your setting accordingly.


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Hobgoblin (AD&D)

Hobgoblins! Like goblins, only…hobbier?
Or rather, they’re bigger and stronger and…more orange than regular goblins. And I hear they’re highly militarized in structure.
But only the parts of the military that make them more evil.
Let’s take a gander, then!

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anonymous asked:

what is different about Clarke vs Octavia becoming commander? we know Octavia was never part of society on the ark, but from a grounder perspective, she's still a sky person. both Clarke and Octavia have lived among grounders, while Clarke has been about 'transcending tribalism' and changing things with the idealistic goal of bringing peace to warring factions, Octavia has been more enthusiastic with status quo. has Octavia assimilated with grounder culture enough to be a dual citizen?

We talked about this a little bit on Meta Station, but basically, in a nutshell, the answer to this completely depends on what we mean when we say “Commander.”  There are two potential ways I could see this going; for one of them, my answer is “YIKES PLEASE NO DON’T LET EITHER OF THEM DO IT,” and for the other, my answer is that they could actually sell me on it with either of them, though for plot reasons it’s more interesting to me personally with Octavia.


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When a Flower Blooms (BTS Witch!Minjoon)

Well I’ve recently been following a lot of BTS ask blogs because these people are so talented and amazing and wonderful people. I actually had the courage to talk to one of the admins for one of these blogs and I decided to take their Au and write a quick minjoon one-shot of their featuring witch!jimin and witch!namjoon. This idea came to me randomly, but I thought it would be cute. So enjoy!

When a flower blooms

I’ve always loved nature. Ever since I was young, I adored being outside and playing in the forest, climbing trees, playing with insects, or even taking a swim in the river bank up the mountain. Many of you might think that nature is rather dull and seemingly lifeless, but as we all know plants are living beings full of as much life as us humans. It’s fascinating because you see I have a gift. I was born with the the ability to speak to plants.

You might wonder how this is even possible, but you see, I’m a witch. My name is Park Jimin and I specialize in spells and potion making with plants and herbs. I attend Bangtang’s Magic University and I’m a Junior. I’m sort of clumsy and shy, but I’m confident in my knowledge in potions and antidotes because no one knows plants better than I do. They’re my friends and they speak to me when I’m lonely. It’s like we have a mutual understanding. I’ve never been a person of many friends, but the plants comfort me which is why I spend most of my free time in the gardens.

You know they say that when a a flower blooms, the way it flourishes is a representation of the feelings of the person caring for them. The flowers listen to your heart and it shows the moment their bud spreads open. If you care for them with love, they bloom beautifully, but one grown with contempt may refuse to bloom or withers before it has the chance to show its beauty.

They understand your feelings when you think no one else does. A flower is the most perceptive plant in nature, but is often misunderstood as weak and fragile when it reality it has a sensitivity no human has ever been able to achieve.

And only they know , that for the longest time, since I enrolled in this university I’ve had a crush on my best friend Kim Namjoon, a senior.


“Jimin-ah!” A voice yells into a blonde’s ear who squeaks and jumps from his kneeling position near a mound of Witch Hazel. His small hands were covered in dirt as he unconsciously clutched onto his purple sweater where his heart should. He gazed up finding Kim Namjoon giving him an apologetic and sheepish smile as the blonde blushed furiously.

“N-Namjoon hyung, you scared me! Ah, my sweater!”, Jimin pouted with a sigh as he wiped away the dirt ad averted his gaze to avoid looking the older male in the eyes. His eyes widened when Namjoon leaned down to help him wipe of the dirt as he passed a hand in his purple locks.

“I’m sorry. It’s just I always see you here in the gardens. No one cares for them the best than you do”, he said appreciatively. The blonde shrugged returning his attention to the plants he’d been covering with new soil.

“I like plants. I always have. But anyways, did you need something, hyung?” Jimin asked as the senior seemed to stay silent in thought. He couldn’t help, but chuckle. Here was the older male known for exceeding in every area of magic and spells, probably the school’s top witch, but he was so forgetful and was known to break anything at an arm’s length that it was kind of ironic.

“Ah! I remember. You haven’t had lunch, right? I saw you run here after class so I know for a fact you must be hungry. I’ve brought some sandwiches we can eat here”, the older motioned proudly as he pulled at his bag and pulled out two napkin wrapped sandwiches.

“Wah! Thank you so much, Joonie hyung. I’m starving”, the blonde chirped as he took the offered meal and began to nibble on it hungrily. They remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, hats discarded besides them and cool air fresh on their skin.

“Jiminnie?” The purple head piped in suddenly. The younger looked up at the male in curiosity waiting for what he would say. “When you talk to plants what do you talk about?”

The blonde blushed, coughing awkwardly as he feigned that he was looking out in the distance in thought when in reality he was having a panic attack. “Uh, well. We talk about a lot of things. They like to hear me make most of the talking. They’re content by knowing about my day, and simply listening. Sometimes, they ask questions because well they don’t really see much outside of this garden so I teach them things”, he explained.

The senior hummed in awe. “That’s amazing. No one knows plats better than you do, Minnie”

Jimin simply smiled. And no one was able to make him feel more appreciated than Namjoon. After a few minutes, Namjoon stood and excused himself after realizing he was almost late to class making the younger laugh at how like the male it was to barely make it to class.

As his form disappeared into the crowds of students, Jimin was left to tend to the garden once more.

“Why don’t you tell him”, a tiny voice muttered like a soft whisper. Jimin snapped his head towards the rose bush where the voice had come from one of its flowers. The male blushed and licked his lips nervously.

“I d-don’t know w-hat you’re talking about”, he lied digging his fingers into the dirt as he began to add more of the Witch Hazel into place.
“Jimin-ah, you can’t lie to us, you know that. You have feelings for him”, the rose muttered with a slight giggle. Jimin sighed in defeat, standing from his spot and retrieving a wand from his bag and returning to his place.

After a quick flick of his wand he lifted a watering pot from near the rose bush and let it title as water poured over them. “What am I supposed to tell him, though. I can’t just go up to him and tell him ‘Namjoon hyung, I like you. And I’ve like you since the moment we first met’” he sighed as he let the water pot float towards the other flowers.

“Why can’t you?”He heard one of the red tulips ask as Jimin finally decided he’d finished his work and sat back to give the plants his full attention.

“It’s not that simple. When you like someone it takes great courage to confess your feelings. There’s the fear of rejection and the fear that a friendship, if one exists, can be ruined. I’m scared”, he confessed.

“Jimin-ah, I’m sure the pretty hyung would never hate you even if there was a chance that he didn’t like you. I’m sure of it”, the rose inquired.

“Yeah! We’re rooting for you!” The daisies piped in. The blond couldn’t help, but smile at their excitement, however, they didn’t really understand human relationships. They didn’t know how serious confessing your feelings was.However, he was more than thankful that they were ring extremely supportive.

“Jimin, just give yourself a chance. I know you don’t seemed convinced. You cannot hide your feelings from us. We know. Just tell him. You know him very well and know he’s incapable of hurting you”, the rose motioned once more. The male remained quiet for a bit contemplating this dilemma of his. Namjoon was the friendliest person he knew, the rose was right. His hyung wouldn’t hurt him. He’d probably turn him down gently if that was the case.

“Okay, I’ll try”, he decided hearing small cheers come into his ear like whisperes. Yes, today he’d have the courage to tell his hyung, he had feelings for him. He took a quick breathe as he flicked his wand to bring the watering pot down gently. He stood up, picking up his belongings and running to his room to change.


“Hyung, you’ve been awfully quiet”, a male with strawberry blond hair piped in. Jimin looked up in a daze to look at the younger male who’d called his attention.

“Uh, did you say something, Jungkook?” He asked the male feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. Jungkook rolled his eyes as he pat his hyung on the back assuringly.

“Whatever is bothering you hyung you can always tell me, okay?” The younger motioned with a concerned glance.

The blonde gulped and nodded. “Yes, Kook-ah…Wait!Yah! I’m the hyung here, brat!” He laughed punching the male playfully on the arm. It seemed to get him to direct his attention away from him as they began to focus on their task in front of them.

“Alright, your task today is to come up with a potion remedy for the liver without having a foul taste. You know there are many ways to make such a potion so there is a broad range of correct and incorrect ways to make it. Now make teams of three”, the teacher announced.

“Jimin-ah! Kookie-ah!” A loud and deep voice called from across the room as a broad haired male skipped towards them. Kim Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend and Jimin’s roommate. The male came to hug the two squeezing the life out of them and stealing a kiss for the youngest. Jungkook blushed furiously, hitting him upside the head while the male pouted.

“Hyung, please, not in public”, Jungkook hissed making Taehyung frown and whine like a child.

“It would be Taehyung. Alright, listen up guys. Simple and sweet is the way to go. And don’t get creative again, Tae. Remember what happened last time you put herbs together because you thought the color were pretty”, Jimin deadpanned.

“It looked cool! I didn’t know it would cure constipation or in this case cause diarrhea”, the male piped in defensively. His companions simply rolled their eyes before Jimin continued.

“We’ll be using the chicory root, peppermint, and dandelion. With these three we’ll be helping prevent liver problems as well as stimulate the liver and avoid toxin formation and bile from damaging the liver. The peppermint besides helping the liver will also help with our flavor requirement”, Jimin began to explain as both his partners raced to retrieved their ingredients.

Jimin was in charge of making the potion given that Taehyung was a danger to society and Jungkook was a good distraction to keep the latter at bay from causing trouble. He began to grind the herbs as Taehyung watched him in thought.

“Spit it out, Tae. Unless you want a picture, and I don’t think Kookie would appreciate that”, Jimin chuckled softly.

“Kookie knows my heart belongs to him!” The male chirped as Jungkook pouted and looked away embarrassed. “But now I was wondering how you and Nakmjoon hyung were doing.”

The blonde stopped his ministrations as he directed his attention to Taehyung. “What do you mean? We’re fine like always? Why are you asking?” He began to say nervously as he continued his previous movements.

“What he means is if you’ve confessed to hyung yet. Don’t try denying it, Jimin hyung”, The youngest inquired.

“Look. Can we not talk about this right now? I’m gonna do it today, okay? I’m already nervous as it is. So please”, the blonde motioned as the two younger males fussed in excitement. At least, they seemed excited since they weren’t the ones at risk of rejection.

After the class, Jimin had sent Namjoon a text to meet up at the garden, but just as he pressed send, he noticed the male was already there. The older male looked at his phone and noticed Jimin walk towards him. “Says here you have something important to tell me?” He asked.

The shorter gulped and suddenly all his courage had dissipated. He felt ashamed more than anything that he was going to dismiss the whole thing, but he thought it might just be for the best.

“It was nothing important. I just wanted to hang out”, he lied with a strained smile.

“That’s cool. I’ll go get us a snack so we can talk”, the male smiled brightly as he jogged away. Jimin slumped on the floor feeling tears prick his eyes at how much of a coward he was as he pulled his knees into his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. He would have to live with these feelings for the rest of his time there. It was better for himself.

“Jimin-ah”, a tiny voice whispered. Jimin blinked his stray tears away as he looked up. The roses were calling him. However, he was perplexed that one of the roses ad turned purple.

“What happened to you?” Jimin asked curiously as he crouched near the rose bush. The purple rose giggled as Jimin examined it. It was different than the red roses. Although the the red ones were gorgeous, the purple one was in full bloom and full of life. It was breathtaking.

“I have a message for you,but I need you to come closer. We have tiny voices. This person told me he wanted you to know at all costs”, it explained as Jimin blinked confused, but nonetheless leaned in to hear it.

“I love you too, Jimin-ah. Since the first moment I laid yes on you”

Purple rose….Love at first sight.

Jimin’s eyes widened as it retracted abruptly and stood up. “Who? What? I don’t understand. Who said this?”

“I did, Jimin-ah”, a voice spoke from behind him as the blonde turned around to find Namjoon standing there with a loving smile on his face. Jimin was stuck in place, shock in his expression. “You’re not the only one who can speak to plants, you know”, Namjoon muttered before pulling Jimin into a kiss.
Jimin’s eyes were wide for a few seconds. He must have been dreaming, this had to be a dream, but no. Namjoon was right her kissing him after confessing his feelings like he could never. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him back softly.

After a few seconds, they parted with goofy smiles on their faces. “I love you, Jiminnie. Go out with me?”

“I love you too and yes. I’ll go out with you”, the blonde laughed. It felt so cliché, but perfect all the same.

They say that when a a flower blooms, the way it flourishes is a representation of the feelings of the person caring for them. The flowers listen to your heart and it shows the moment their bud spreads open. If you care for them with love, they bloom beautifully, but one grown with contempt may refuse to bloom or withers before it has the chance to show its beauty.

And the way that purple rose had been in full bloom, made Jimin realize he was probably the most dearest person in Namjoon’s eyes.

I made this for @ask-witch-jiminie I hope you like it! And since this also includes witch Namjoon I’ll tag @ask-witch-namjoon It’s not the best but regardless I hope you enjoy!

“Layin’ Naked in Bed.”

Tyler was bored out of his mind. The house had been quiet lately, especially after his and Kelly’s amicable split a few months prior. They were still the best of friends, and had shared custody of Archie and Kino, but at the time, Kelly had wanted more than what Tyler felt like he could give her. He did love her, immensely so, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

So, with no one but himself to keep him company(the boys were at Kelly’s this week), he decided the best course of action would be to distract himself with the mindless pull of video games.

He went to his office, opening the window to let in the surprisingly cool early evening breeze (extremely odd in June in Tennessee, but who was he to complain?), and sat down at his desk.

His first thought was to call Craig, knowing he was always up for a game or two. That, and he kind of missed the other man. He didn’t record with them very often anymore, and Tyler missed hearing Craig’s voice, missed the way he would rage(sometimes harder than Tyler himself), and overall just missed seeing his face through the facecam. They were best friends, and if he thought hard enough(although who was he kidding? He didn’t have to think that hard), there was potentiality for something more. 

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m-mimima  asked:

:D MY FAVORITE WONDERTREV AUTHOR!! Could you write a wondertrev car racing/fast and furious AU for me? ❤️


(tw:  guns, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of alcoholism, violence)

-Warson Shire

Diana’s been driving so long that it almost feels as natural as breathing.

The flex of her fingers gripping the wheel, the engine roaring beneath her, the screeching of tires against the track. It’s all second nature to her now. After all–it’s been sixteen years since her Aunt Antiope snuck her out of the house and set her down behind the wheel of an old mustang and first taught her the ins and outs of racing.

It’s all second nature–until Steve Trevor enters the picture. He’s nothing like she’s ever seen before.

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Densuke Sozoro’s Entry

What type of person is Izaya Orihara? Sozoro’s Case

What type of person is Izaya Orihara?

That’s a troublesome question. Well now, he was a detective. There is someone who wants to know about Izaya-dono, you say. Well, I am not forbidden to speak.

Is it suitable if I give my opinion? Or do you need the objective view of how he carries out his role in society?

Hmm, my opinion. Then this is easy.

He is nothing more than an uncooperative, superficially dignified 5-year-old.

Furthermore, that 5-year-old may very well be the child with the worst personality you could ever imagine. Just like a child knowing he will be forgiven, he is the clever runt that craftily uses the truth.

If you were to ask me if I hate him, then naturally I should be able to say that I do.

If it were not for the contract and the debt I have towards him regarding my family, I may have already snapped that slim neck of his.

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Philip x Reader
Words: 926
Prompt: Could you write a 50s era story where Philip and the reader are separated by race issues of that time, please? (I’m African Amer., but if it would be easier to go w/ politics, that’s cool too). Maybe reader is T-Jeff or Burr’s daughter?
Oh! And Phil and reader could meet at a cute diner out of town (I’m so sorry to bother, I was just inspired by your fic about them working in a diner and I feel like you could really write this well).

Thanks for the prompt Elle! I hope you enjoy this. I felt kind of awkward writing this because I didn’t want to get anything wrong so I really hope I did everything right.
I didn’t know a lot about the 50s to be honest. I know a lot about the 60s from studying The Help this year, so I have some knowledge. But yeah.

I hit 69 followers and I’m really proud of that achievement. All my other blogs literally only have like 2 followers (that are most likely porn blogs).


coming up next: peggy schuyler x fem!reader
requests are open as usual bbys. i’m gonna go get ready for my maths and science tests now! wish me luck (i’m most likely going to fail oops)


You walked into school with your eyes staring at the ground. You moved into the segregated area, sighing quietly. It was just another day in this uncultured hell. You promised your mother you wouldn’t cause any trouble, because she knew that they would come down harder on you.

“(Y/N)! You’re late,” Your teacher exclaimed, glaring at you. “But sir, it’s quarter to nine,” You said quietly, biting your lip. You knew you weren’t supposed to talk back, but you wanted to fight for something.

“Disgusting. Do you honestly think you’re worth more than a penny? Take your seat at the back of the class. I expect to see you in detention this afternoon,” The teacher spat. A tear came out of your eye. You whimpered quietly, crossing the line and sitting in your seat.

“Now, if any of you can learn anything from what you just witnessed, it’s that you are a disgusting race. You are all privileged to even be accepted into a white school. If it were up to me, you’d all be dead. Do you hear me? Now, onto today’s lesson. Today we will be talking about our founding fathers, Daveed Diggs, Okrieriete Onaodowan, Lin Manuel Miranda and Christopher Jackson. Can anyone tell me what these men are famous for?”

You wiped your tears, staring up at the clock. The day was going to go by slowly, you could feel it already. You pulled out your school book and pencil tin from your bag, beginning to take notes on the word vomit your teacher was producing. “Are you okay (Y/N)?” Your friend whispered, keeping her eyes on the board.

You sighed again. “I guess I will be.”


After school, you showed up to detention as the teacher requested. You took a seat in the back corner, pulling out your schoolbooks and getting started on your homework. The door swung open as a few more students walked in, taking seats at the front of the classroom. You heard the sound of the chair next to you scraping against the floor. You looked up, your eyes widening when you saw a white boy taking the seat next to you.

You knew you couldn’t speak to him. If you did, you’d be in even more trouble than you were in already. But, the teacher hadn’t arrived yet. So it couldn’t do too much harm… could it?

“Excuse me, you can’t sit there,” You said quietly, looking at the boy who had bravely taken the seat next to you.

“There isn’t a seating arrangement, this is detention,” He replied, pulling out his school books. You looked at his fancy school books, seeing “Philip Hamilton” printed on every single one of them.

“Is your father Alexander?” You asked quietly. Philip nodded. “And your father is Thomas Jefferson, a grade A asshole,” Philip replied, starting on his homework.

“Well so is yours,” You mumbled. “Why are you even in here? They don’t give white boys detention.”

“They do if they find you carrying around pornographic images,” He replied. You laughed. “Wow, you’re just like your father,” You said, continuing on your school work.

“You’re not as bad as your father. You’re actually a nice person from what I hear,” Philip mumbled, silencing himself as the teacher entered the classroom.

Philip ripped a piece of paper out of his book, quickly scribbling a note on it with his pen. He passed it to you, keeping his eyes on his desk. You raised your eyebrow, glancing at him for a second and then shrugging.

“Meet me at Macy’s Diner after detention”

You raised your eyebrow slightly, shrugging but going along with it. You checked the clock on the wall, going back to your homework


After detention finished, you walked as quickly as possible to Macy’s Diner, which was situated downtown. You entered the diner, looking around. You were shocked to see that people of both colour and white people sitting together, conversing happily. “(Y/N)! Over here!” Philip exclaimed. You looked over at him, seeing him sitting in a booth. You moved into the booth, sitting down slowly. “What is this place?” You asked.

“It’s great, isn’t it? This is the one place in town where there’s no segregation! We can talk without being put into detention here!” Philip exclaimed.

“Philip, we’ve literally only spoken once. Why did you invite me here?” You asked. Philip started to blush slightly. “I don’t know… I mean, I’ve seen you around school before and I thought you were pretty. I wanted to get to know you,” Philip said quietly. You felt your face become hotter.

“I had figured you’d hate me,” You said quietly.

“For what reasons?” Philip asked, picking up a menu and starting to read through it.

“Well, I’m Thomas Jefferson’s daughter, your father’s enemy. And I mean, we don’t have the same skin tone. Why aren’t you telling me I’m worthless?” You asked.

“Because you’re not worthless. Trust me. Two of our founding fathers had dark skin, I think people seem to forget that. And if I learnt anything from my father’s best friend John Laurens, it’s that we need to learn to treat everyone equally.”

You smiled. “I like you, Philip Hamilton.”

“And I like you, (Y/N) Jefferson.”

Meeting at the diner became tradition after that. You ignored the norms of society and eventually, you found yourself dating Philip Hamilton. You often attended peace rallies together, as you both had hope for a future where you could kiss without being arrested. A hope for a better future united you.

thecomicsnixlegacy  asked:

Friendly reminder Trump has signed anti-LGBT laws, denied Pride Month, is about to consort with anti-LGBT politicians AND stayed silent on the Chechnyan genocide. You deserve to be torn apart and killed for being a conservative vermin in the first place, but actually being outraged that people ban his supporters is laughable and disgusting.

The only “anti-LGBT” laws that Trump has signed are undoing Obama’s executive orders forcing schools to let trans people use the bathroom they want and I think some law saying that Christian bakeries don’t have to bake gay wedding cakes. It’s not the end of the world. Also, sexuality isn’t on par with race, so it’s not like he undid legislation from the Civil Rights Movement.

You know, society seemed fine just 10 years ago before those 2 things came into effect, but progressives act like American society 10 years ago was Hell on Earth, which means that these “causes” aren’t a big deal and are trivial, and the people who say they are are being overly dramatic and showing just how far to the left the left has moved since just 10 years ago.

As for the trans bathroom thing, you do realize that that’s disgusting to most people, right, and that most women do not want this? Trans people are .3% of the population, so why is the left trying to force the wishes of .3% of the population on 99.7% of the population? A tiny societal group should have to be considerate of a large societal group, not the other way around. And Trump said trans people can use whatever of his bathrooms they want, so he’s not even against them; he just understands that most people don’t want this and feels it should be up to the property owner.

As for the gay cake thing, if someone doesn’t want to bake you a wedding cake, you know what you do? Don’t give them your business anymore. Why should you be forced to be a part of someone else’s ceremony? You can just drive to a different cake store, so it’s not like you’re even being horribly inconvenienced by this. It’s not like it’s based on race, which would be far worse and actually bad. And again, Trump isn’t against gays getting wedding cakes; he’s against people being forced to make them. Muslim bakeries won’t bake them, but you don’t see the left getting outraged and trying to ruin them. Same with Jewish bakeries. And the left discriminates against people all the time. The film industry is overwhelmingly liberal, and if they find out you’re a republican, most of them won’t hire you. Same with other areas. Fucking hypocrites.

“Denied Pride Month?” What does that even mean? Did he stop other places from having it?

“about to consort with anti-LGBT politicians”

You know, since these politicians make up a huge percentage of the government, he can’t not work with them. What is he supposed to do, not talk to them at all and get nothing done? You know, there are so many far more important and actually gigantic problems that exist outside your LGBT bubble, right? That’s a problem in the LGBT community. They tend to be single issue voters. LGBT legislation is the only thing that seems to matter to them since it directly effects them to the point of being out of touch with the rest of society, and they put it above things like ending the reckless, unnecessary wars overseas, fixing healthcare, making the economy thrive again. Those are the things that are on the minds of most people. But as long as you can get your gay wedding cakes and trans bathrooms, right? But something tells me you’re not actually LGBT and are just one of the progressive moral busybodies who goes around getting offended for other people.

And don’t democrats also consort with anti-LGBT politicians and stay silent on human rights abuses? Obama and the rest of the democratic politicians have worked with human rights abusing countries in the Middle East (so the Middle East) and given them arms and money and have armed and funded Muslim terrorists. How do you think those groups treat LGBT people? But even the progressive electorate won’t criticize them. Progressives tolerate the illiberal for the sake of multiculturalism. The worst you’ll get from a large percentage of republicans is being against gay marriage, not wanting to have to bake gay wedding cakes, and not wanting trans bathrooms, but in the Middle East, they jail, torture, and kill gays, and it’s enshrined in law, but yet you won’t hear progressives say anything about it, and they treat republicans way worse, because progressives are racists who treat minorities like children and give them preferential treatment because of their race and refuse to criticize them because criticizing brown people makes them uncomfortable and constantly spout anti-white hatred. Your principles have to be universal, applied to all groups, all people equally, and they aren’t. That’s what would make you a true progressive, espousing your values no matter what, being against violations of these values you supposedly hold so dear wherever they are. Progressives don’t care about LGBT people. If they did, they’d be condemning the Middle East nonstop instead of silence and condemning the people who condemn the Middle East and defending it. When the Orlando nightclub massacre happened, the left’s focus was completely off the LGBT community and completely on making sure people don’t say bad things about Islam.

Again, American politicians need to work with the world, which means they kinda have to work with unsavory governments and can’t just cut them off and kinda have to stay silent on their transgressions, but republican politicians will at least criticize the human rights abuses of POC-majority countries we’re not trying to work with, but the democratic politicians and even the democratic electorate won’t even do that.

“actually being outraged that people ban his supporters is laughable and disgusting”

The left regularly works with theocratic Muslims who support Sharia law and have far stronger anti-gay, anti-woman, anti-Jew, anti-lots of things sentiments than your average republican. I guess it’s true what they say; if the left didn’t have double standards, they wouldn’t have standards at all.

“You deserve to be torn apart and killed”

Typical liberal tolerance. This shows how far the left has fallen since the 90s that they now hate the right when they used to view their opinions as just opinions and not human rights abuses, and a large section of them are for political violence to advance their views. It also tells me you’re a communist because communists take their political views so seriously that they’re for committing any atrocity to advance them and only care about people in the abstract and not individually. If conservatives deserve to be torn apart and killed, do you think Middle Easterners should be torn apart and killed when they’re way worse?

In control V

Originally posted by sehuntiful


//Yixing x you

Word count: 1,848

Summary: Yixing loses his grip, both on the track and in his life, and you are a countersteer he needs to go straight again


Words slurred into his sweater are surprisingly clear. They seem to cut the air so cold that it’s almost crispy. His fingers clench even tighter on your jacket, and you can hear the crunch of the fabrics. He sucks in a shaky, broken breath, his chest spasming against yours. You don’t know whether it’s his relief, or whether he is fighting his tears.

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Day 15: Favorite Side-Mission

I’m going to interpret Side-Mission here as “A mission that is neither a DLC mission, a Loyalty Mission, nor a Storyline-Mission” because those all have their own categories. Well, I’m going to really surprise everyone here and talk about - Oh hell, no I’m not. Let’s talk some more about turians!

Let’s talk about Tuchanka: Missing Platoon.

I love this mission because this is Mass Effect’s anti-Star Trek mission. In classic Star Trek, all the aliens who belong to non-human cultures are shown as perfect stereotypes of their race: Vulcans are logical (to the point where non-logical vulcans, when shown, are shown suffering from a disease), klingons are aggressive. Rarely – if ever – will you see someone act outside of their cultural stereotypes. Mass Effect doesn’t do that.

Mass Effect devotes an entire mission to not doing that. That mission is Tuchanka: Missing Platoon. This mission is mostly a story-telling mission, and one that spends a lot of time delving into the idea of just what a good turian is – and what a good turian isn’t.

Tarquin Victus is not a good turian. He tries – very hard – to be his war hero father.

He’s not.

Tarquin Victus tries too hard. He’s wearing a copy of his father’s armor, gives his men copies of his father’s speeches. He even attempts to be a strategist like his father – but without the years of experience that his father has.

Tarquin makes a bad call. It’s a bad call not because the strategy is unsound – skirting the enemy to try to get to their destination undetected – but because it fails to take in one variable: location.

Tarquin charges in without scouting ahead, or waiting until he’s sure of the terrain. (Turians on Tuchanka probably don’t have up-to-date maps to say the least.) Worse, the area he forces them into is a network of tunnels that effectively traps all the turians to get slaughtered by Reaper forces. 

And turians – as Garrus notes – are not very forgiving.

Live your life for the cause. Platoon first, society first - it’s all expected.

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What Once Was Mine: Part One

Failing to impress a reclusive king and win the hand of his son, Princess Emma of Misthaven is married off to a Captain in the Royal Navy. When her new husband is found dead on their wedding night, all evidence points to Emma as his killer. Cast out from her family, disgraced, and at the mercy of a hostile realm, Emma sets her sights on escape—and on Killian Jones as her route home.

(also on ffn and ao3)

Chapter Four: All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

Killian struggled to keep his demeanor calm, his posture relaxed, his feet from carrying him swiftly toward the door as the words burned like acid on his tongue.  He’d run this scenario in his head a hundred times, but no amount of practice could’ve prepared him for the reality.  Or for the bile that rose in his throat with every second he sat across from Emma Nolan.

He refused to call her Jones when she hadn’t been Liam’s wife a full hour before she’d slaughtered him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?”  She asked, incredulous, and much to the chagrin of her eager-to-please aunt.

Killian put on his best smile, even as he was momentarily distracted by Lady Jacqueline’s horrified expression.  “I have,” he said.  “But I’m familiar with the nature of rumors.  Especially those that circulate in the capital.”

Not that Killian knew much of anything about the capital, as he’d not been permitted to attend court since he was a small child.  Before his father forbade him from setting foot outside the borders of their village—a rule Killian had broken only once.

He brushed a finger across the scar on his cheek, wiped away a drop of rain that’d landed there before anyone could take note.  The winds had died down for a spell, but the storm would not be held off indefinitely.

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