army briefs

  • Trunks: Mom you don’t just walk into a store and buy plutonium. Did you rip that off?
  • Bulma: OF COURSE! From a group of Red Ribbon nationalists. They wanted me to build them a bomb so I gave them a faulty bomb case filled with old pinball machine parts!
  • -Later-
  • Bulma: Oh my god. They found me. I don’t know how but they found me. RUN FOR IT TRUNKS!
  • Trunks: Who? WHO?
  • Bulma: Who do you think? THE RED RIBBONS!

I was tagged by @accidentallypatriotic for a throwback selfie. Not too far of a throwback. And not technically a selfie. But here I am with a real life hero. I served with Buck here in Afghanistan. Every time. Even this last deployment, after the Army finally forcibly made him retire, he was there as a contractor.

Buck joined the Army shortly after the Korean war as a private. Then he joined Special Forces as a medic. I once asked him what 18D class he graduated from. He said two. As in the second class ever. After Vietnam, he left the enlisted ranks as a Sergeant First Class and became a Warrant Officer. And progressed to the Rank of Chief Warrant Officer 3. In the 80’s, Buck left the Army for a brief time to attend PA school. He then rejoined the Army as a 2nd Lieutenant.

He participated in every major conflict since Vietnam. Pictured above as a Lieutenant Colonel at 63 years old and still on Active Duty. A true hero and badass.

anonymous asked:

In Dragon Ball Z Fusion Reborn, remember the time Goten and Trunks went up against an Adolf Hitler look alike and his dead army? Also the line in the English Dub 'Blond hair, blue eyes, super strength? I should be recruiting them.' lol XD

Wait I remember that! XD

Originally posted by neogohann

anonymous asked:

If Vegeta and Bulma had a third child what the child look like, and what would the name be?

I’d say their third child would be a boy who’d look exactly like Vegeta but with blue eyes like his mother and, of course, his name would be Vegeta Jr.

I’m actually surprised Vegeta hasn’t tried to convince Bulma to go for a third one so he’ll get to give his family name to one of his children…

Originally posted by cowcat44

Thanks to Ben’s encouragement and Rae’s help, Armie finally gets to move out of his father’s home. He doesn’t know why his father fought it so hard, he’s never liked Armitage anyway. Maybe that’s why he did it.
His bags and Millicent are in the car, Rae is waiting. Ben is there too, waiting outside.
Armie has a brief goodbye with his step mother. She’s not happy for him, not really, but she wishes him the best anyway. Brendol says nothing.
Armie could have left it at that. But he couldn’t leave without saying anything to his father.
So he turns, and finally confronts him and says all the things he was too afraid to say. At some point he’s shouting, he’s crying too. Brendol is shocked, as well as everyone else. Armie doesn’t care. He needs to get this out.
How dare his father ever hurt him. He was just a child, he should have known better. How dare he hurt his mother, how dare he take her from him. Because of Brendol, Armie is ashamed and afraid in everything he does. Armie has never felt loved, until recently. By people who aren’t even of his own blood. But they’re better than Brendol could ever be. If Armie is to ever see his father again it will be in hell. He’s a terrible father, and even worse human being.
Armie leaves before he can start hyperventilating. He goes straight into Ben’s arms. Ben holds him tight and tells him how proud he is. Rae tells him too, later when they’re at home.
Home. His new home. A place he can finally feel safe. And eventually even loved.

Imagine the Greenleaf Family

Imagine Thranduil and his canonical wife fawning over an elfling Legolass.

Imagine Thranduil watching over his son every night as he hums him lullabies.

Imagine Thranduil getting overly excited with Leglass’ first bath, first nail cut, and so on… (he keeps the first batch of clipped nails as momentos).

Imagine canonical wife baby talking to Legolass.

Imagine canonical wife telling Legolass that he will see the whole middle earth.

Imagine Thranduil telling dad jokes to an elfling Legolass.

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the forever girl: naruto’s story | naruto au

prompt: This fic and this post,

pairing: Naruto | Hinata

notes: This is the side you don’t know about. What exactly did Naruto go through in order to meet Hinata? This is that story. I would also like to make a shout-out to jollyart for her amazing fanart she did. I still can’t get over it. Also, think of this fic placed during World War II and moving into the decade we’re in now. With that, please enjoy~.

He saw her once before, it was brief, only for a few short moments, but his entire world changed. Then she was gone. 

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gamergate dystopian fiction

the year is 21XX. gamers have been outlawed. I’m due to meet an informant today at the corner of Sarkisian drive and 21st. I spot him immediately by his well maintained fedora. he flashes open his army jacket, offering a brief glimpse at our underground resistance’s signal. the 8 bit plumber on his t shirt. none know his name now save for the elite. the days, we call him…. mr. gay….

okay tumblr i have to write ten pages of a paper between now and 7pm but before I exile myself from this blue hellscape for the day, i need to tell you about my SUPER SPECIAL SUBWAY ENCOUNTER TODAY

  • today I woke up with just enough time to grab a truly gargantuan iced coffee from dunkin donuts and catch the train, and it worked out that I could get a seat on the local train and ride it all the way to work
  • this local ride takes 45 minutes as opposed to the 25-30 minutes of the express BUT it means i get to pick a seat (the nice corner seat!!!!!!!!!!) and stay there for the whole ride
  • I GOT THE CORNER SEAT. im sitting in the corner seat w/ my vat of bean juice and my back pack, checking to see if Tubbs showed up while I was asleep, etc etc etc (he did. 50 silver fish!)
  • the first few stops of this ride are fine, right, like just normal commuters doing normal commuter stuff
  • THEN
  • 4 stops into this route, A Dude gets on. this dude is The Worst Dude. he’s 25ish, white, wearing THE MOST ILL-FITTING SUIT IVE EVER SEEN, and a SWISS ARMY briefcase 
  • seriously, this suit. this suit was like, the suits you see 13 yr old boys wear to their first chaperoned school dance. but…bigger…..and on a 25 yr old….the trousers & jacket were gun metal grey with thin stripes, the shirt was pink, and his tie. oh, his tie. a black tie with a bright magenta geometric pattern. all of these were about two sizes too big. his shoes were brown.
  • i’m not saying being a terrible dresser makes you a terrible person but in this situation it was a pretty good preview of things to come
  • This Dude decides to stand against the wall of the end of the train, perpendicular to my seat, okay fine. he stand with his legs spread like…more than shoulder width apart. if i took a picture of this dude standing i could VERY EASILY photoshop a horse between his legs, that’s what I’m saying. 
  • 2 minutes after the doors close, he slides his SWISS ARMY BRIEF CASE underneath the seat THAT IM SITTING ON. he folds his suit jacket on top of the brief case. UNDER THE SEAT. OF A DIRTY SUBWAY TRAIN. I feel both the briefcase and the suit jacket slide against my legs. he huffs. 
  • 3 minutes after that, he removes the brief case and the jacket from under my seat, continues to stand like a displaced jockey. 
  • and, of course, he sits much in the way he stands. THE SPREAD EAGLE.
  • he leaves the SWISS ARMY BRIEFCASE sitting against the wall, just you know, in case NO ONE wanted to STAND in that huge EMPTY SPACE
  • twenty minutes into this trip, he gets tired of sitting over there on THAT side of the train so he comes over and sits right next to me - A Joy
  • his thigh. is touching my thigh. spread eagling all over me. 
  • then, in a move i’m sure NO ONE SAW COMING, he takes out a vape. 
  • he vapes. on the subway. WHICH IM P SURE IS ILLEGAL. every stop, he turns his head and blows smoke out of the open door which doesn’t make any difference BC SUBWAYS ARE UNDERGROUND YOU VAPING PIECE OF SHIT.
  • we’re 15 stops into this ride now and This Dude turns to me, BLOWS VAPE SMOKE IN MY FACE, and then hits on me
  • him: “you work in the city, huh?” “I work on 23rd” “maybe we could meet for coffee some time”
  • me: “i’m gay”
  • [total silence] [still vaping] [ a child cries in the distance ] I JUST WANTED A NICE RELAXING MORNING COMMUTE
  • anyway. through the course of making this post i tried to think of a way to show you guys something that just really summed up everything about this dude, and i’ve found it. 
  • remember this picture of the Hemsworths?

vasselheims  asked:

*whispers* Older!Cullen succumbing to lyrium poisoning tho

(I was going to yell at you but then I thought….)

It was Elianwy who greeted her mother at the gates of Skyhold. The taciturn, young Knight-Commander had no smiles for her mother just then. Yael did not stand on ceremony, startling her daughter with a fierce hug.

“I came as quick as I could, da'mi,” she whispered. “How is he?”

Elianwy straightened, she was so much taller than her mother and age had only made Yael smaller, yet no less spirited. She kept a tight hold of her Keeper’s staff, lines that had long since carved out her face were furrowed with worry. “You had best come with me, Mother,” Elianwy said with an edge of formality.

They walked the familiar footpaths through the keep. So many memories wound through every step. The comings and goings of Yael as she would come once a month to visit her family from her clan, the time missed and lost and regained with every reunion and parting.

“He worsened significantly in the night,” Elianwy marched in double time up through the corridors of the inner keep. “I did not think he would survive to see you,” she spoke like a soldier giving their report.

Yael placed a hand on her daughter’ shoulders and spun her around. “Da'mi, I am sorry, I am so sorry you have had to bear this on your own for so long.”

“Who else would care for him?” she shrugged. “You were never here long enough to even notice when he first became ill.” Elianwy winced as the words left her. “I…I didn’t mean…that was…”

“No. You’re right.”

Uncomfortable at her mother’s ready admission of guilt, Elianwy gestured to the room at their right. “We’ve moved his chambers in there, though he insists on walking up to the tower. I won’t keep you. I have duties I should attend to…”

“Come in with me.”

“I have already said my goodbyes many times over the course of the last week. There is nothing more I could say.”


“He does not recognize me,” Elianwy confessed at last. Yael could see her hazel eyes mist over with tears, her throat bobbing with the heat and the pressure of her grief. She shook her head, “I can’t sit with him while he looks right through me. Not again.”

Yael felt herself robbed of voice at her daughter’s revelation. They nodded solemnly at one another and Yael watched her daughter retreat down the corridor, the hands she kept locked at her sides trembling ever so slightly, reminding her of her own choking dread.

Stealing herself, Yael pushed open the chamber doors. She didn’t know what she had been expecting. Some sort of sick room, an infirmary on a smaller scale, but there was nothing to the bright, sunny room to hint at death or sickness. It was a small bedchamber to be sure, but neat and well kept.


Her name fell with a cry of surprise from the man sitting up in the bed at the far end of the room. She blinked, she had thought he would not know her. She had been ready for that. Not for the overjoyed expression that lit up his tired face.

“Ma'vhenan, you know me?” Yael walked with a heavy step over to his bedside.

“Know you?” he laughed. “Maker, darling, what kind of question is that?” he kissed both her hands as soon as she was close enough for him to get a grip on them.

Age had done nothing to dampen Cullen’s looks. If anything it had defined them. The hard lines on his face spoke of the military life he had led and his blond hair had long since faded to a dignified silver. She had seen him only a month ago, and though Elianwy had professed she had not known of his illness Yael had. And she knew Cullen suspected as well, try as he did to prevent her from seeing.

“The question we should be asking is why are you here?” Cullen asked, jarring Yael from her thoughts. “You aren’t due back in Skyhold for at least another five days. You did not rush through your business in Denerim just to return here sooner? Leliana is liable to bite your head clean off for that.”

A chill stole in Yael’s lungs.

Denerim? Leliana?

His mind was back with the Inquisiton.

Yael let her eyes close for a second before letting a smile blossom at the corner of her lips. “You should know me better by now. I never rush anything. It turns out the whole affair did not occupy my time nearly as much as we had assumed.”

“Well good,” he said, kissing her hand again and staring up at her in that way of his that made her feel distinctly like some great ethereal being. He had never lost that awed look that would cross his face from time to time when he caught her gaze. “Yes. Good. I’m glad you’re home. The nights have been…difficult without you.”

“Don’t say that,” her breath hitched, nearly giving her away. She brushed back his silvery curls, her fingers tracing the lines along his forehead. “You’re…you’re just trying to guilt me for leaving at all.”

Cullen smirked at her. “Is it working?”

“I have a good mind to punch you full in the face.”

He laughed and tried to raise himself up from the bed to kiss her, but he could barely managed to get his arms under him before he slipped back down with a confused look. Yael closed the distance between them herself, pressing a gentle kiss to Cullen’s lips. She dropped satchel and staff to crawl into his bed. He was warm and Yael could feel his heart beat as she rested her head against his chest.

“I pray for an end to this war, love,” he said, wrapping her up in his arms. “No more coming and going. No intrusive morning briefings. No army to train. Just us,” he kissed the top of her head.

Yael felt her heart twist. “I don’t think we’d know what to do with one another if we we had even a solid three days alone together.”

“When you are here I cannot forget you.”


“You are Yael Lavellan. Small in stature, with tangled black hair, and dark skin. Your eyes are green,” Cullen recited in a tone of memorization. How long had he repeated such mantras? “You are the Inquisitor. The Herald–though you hate the title–you are our savior, our leader, my dearest and most precious one. And I love you. Say you will stay now?” he asked this last so quietly she almost didn’t hear it. “The dreams don’t come when you’re here. They were never so bad when you were beside me.”

“I will stay,” Yael soothed. “Just for you, love. I will stay for as long as you like.”