late by about half an hour

Today, I fucked up... by causing an explosion 40,000ft above the Atlantic Ocean on an international flight

I was running a bit late for a long-haul flight from Delhi to London, so I quickly bought some snacks and shoved them in my travel bag as I ran to the boarding gate.

About 4 hours in (whilst half the people were asleep and the other half were getting annoyed that the TVs had stopped working), there was a massive bang and the whole plane launched into hysteria.

I can’t even explain how loud it was, especially given the plane was in near silence. Immediately, every baby started screaming as loudly as they could and every mother started crying madly. It didn’t help that it was pitch black either, so all the flight crew running around amongst the panicking masses couldn’t see where they were going at all, so just ran straight into all the passengers as they jumped out of their seats. The people who had been sleeping woke up to a scene normally saved for badly produced films and needless to say also began manically hyperventilating.

After a few minutes of sheer terror, the lights came back on and everyone gradually calmed down. My travel bag was revealed as the source of the blast - obviously to my surprise - and was carefully opened. Tons of what looked like sawdust/powder fell out onto the chairs below and once again everyone freaked out for a few seconds.

As it turns out, in India they hyperinflate their crisp/chip packets so the contents don’t get crushed. They’re also dirt cheap, so I bought about 8 packets (those were the snacks I’d grabbed in a rush earlier). The pressure built up as we ascended, and when the plane jolted from the turbulence, they all blew up simultaneously.

And that is how I accidentally triggered a bomb scare on an international flight.


TL;DR: I made the mistake of squashing lots of hyper-inflated chip packets into my bag on a flight and they all exploded. Everyone lost their minds.

Check out more TIFU: Internet`s best fuck ups are here.

Don't waste my time when I'm tired

I’m the youngest person working in the finance department of a company. Last Friday, I was running on empty after 55+ hour week and enough caffeine to kill a small child, and was about to go home for the weekend. As I grab my things, my older coworker runs up to me frantically asking if I can help her with her excel spreadsheet because she has a report due TODAY and she doesn’t know how to do what needs to be done. Me being the nice guy that I am, I walk back and sit down with her.

About an hour and a half later, what had started as me showing her how to do things had ended with me finishing her spreadsheet for her. I save the file and tell her she can run the report and turn it in.

“Oh, Jesze_, this report isn’t due for two weeks. Thanks for staying late today so I can turn it in early and look like a great employee even though I’m not at all!” I might’ve paraphrased a bit but that’s beside the point.

After she left, I got a fantastic idea to be petty. This particular coworker is the one in the office that claims one of the tables in the lunch room as her own, and she does needlessly large puzzles on them. I’m talking 1000+ pieces. On my way out of the building, I stopped by her table and took a puzzle piece that goes right in the middle of one of her puzzles. Today, exactly one week later, I walk into the lunch room and see her tearing the place apart looking for this puzzle piece. It’s currently sitting on top of some old food in my trash can at home.

Edit: she wasn’t stealing my work and claiming it as her own. I made sure my boss knew I was helping her with it. She just wasted my time and pushed my weekend back further.

Signs as Annoying Things

Aries: That one person irritating person constantly following you around

Taurus: Studying hard for a test only to fail it

Gemini: Arriving to the doctors EARLY, but still having to wait 11984  hours for them to come to your patients room

Cancer: Closing the music app in the middle of a good song

Leo: Stepping on a lego and feeling like you’ve been shot

Virgo: That one person who does nothing but bitch about other people

Libra: Someone arriving half an hour late to a meeting

Scorpio: Exercising

Sagittarius: Craving food but isn’t sure what that food is

Capricorn: Having your ship in a book not come true

Aquarius: People who talk about politics but have no idea what they’re saying

Pisces: Food falling on the ground


The blank screen of his laptop was taunting him, he had been working on an article for the blue and gold, about the missing beakers in the chemistry labs for almost half an hour now and he had nothing.
Normally if he had this problem, Betty would swoop in and provide him with some much needed inspiration and encouraging words.

Unfortunately today, the beautiful blonde journalist was nowhere to be found. She was never late, in fact she was almost always their atleast an hour before he was. So where was she?

Ten minutes later the door swung open, popping his head up fully expecting to see Betty he couldn’t hide his disappointment when it turned out to be Cheryl. But something was wrong, Cheryl was out of breath and her fiery red hair was wind blown and out of shape, she had run here, and everyone knew Cheryl blossom did not run.

“Cheryl… what’s going..” he was cut off quickly by the infamous prima donna

“They sent me here because they know you wouldn’t kill me by accident, you have to hurry. It’s Betty. She’s been hurt.”

It took him no time at all to slam his laptop shut and head out the doors, Cheryl following close behind, her heels clacking in the tile.
“What happened.” He demanded keeping pace.

“It’s chuck. Betty was changing in the locker room when Veronica noticed a huge bruise on her back, when she asked her about it she just broke down, told us everything. How chuck has been pretty much attacking her, pushing her into lockers, slamming her against the wall and threatening her after practice. He’s upset that she got him kicked off the team. But that’s not even the worst part.”

Jughead didn’t know how much more he could take, he felt sick to his stomach and all he saw was red. he was gonna kill Clayton, he didn’t care about the consequences, Chuck Clayton was a dead man.

“What’s the worst part” he ground out through clenched teeth, he could see the locker room in the distance.

Cheryl stopped him before he entered the room
“He tried to sleep with Betty, after practice yesterday. He pulled her into the janitors closet and he tried to… ya know. She got away obviously but he punched her in the face, she’s been hiding all of the bruises with makeup. None of us knew.” Cheryl hung her head in shame.
Nodding to the redhead and giving her shoulder a squeeze, Jughead slammed through the doors.

There was Betty, Kevin on one side of her and Veronica on the other. Archie was there too pacing back and forth, as soon as Archie caught Jugheads eyes he nodded. He had his back, he knew Betty was Jugheads girl but she was also his best friend and this was not gonna go unpunished by either of the boys.

“Juggie.” Betty whispered from her spot on the bench, she jumped up instantly, holding her arms out to him, shaking hands and red rimmed eyes.

He had her wrapped up in an instant. Squeezing her to himself “I’ve got you babe. I’ve got you.” She sobbed into his chest as he kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want you to be mad.” She whimpered.
“I’m not mad at you Betty, why would I ever be mad at you?” Jughead pulled away slightly clutching her chin in his hand. What did she mean?

“It’s my fault juggie, I had to go all crazy on him in the hot tub and now he wants revenge, I should’ve just left it all alone.”

“No.” Jughead protested, dropping his eyes to look into hers “this is not your fault, there is no way I’m going to let you think any of this is your fault, Chuck Clayton is insane. He is an egotistical bastard, who’s pride was damaged when you brought him down, he thinks he can get away with hurting you but it’s not going to happen. I’m going to show him exactly what happens when you mess with something I love” Jughead was fuming. Chuck had hurt Betty, physically injured her, and assualted her, that was unforgivable in itself but to make Betty doubt herself? That was the worst thing he could have done.

“He doesn’t know who he’s messing with, I can get the entire football team against him, I already texted Reggie, he’s waiting outside. Whenever you’re ready dude, we know exactly where he hangs out.” Archie said from his side nodding angrily at Jughead.

“You don’t have to do this! You can get hurt, it’s okay l’m okay!” Betty pleaded, grabbing on to jugheads arm.
Sliding his hand to the back of her head he gently brought Betty’s lips to his, kissing her softly.

“I have to do this Betty, for you and for me. I can’t let him get away with this.” Walking forward, Archie by his side, they all headed outside.

Sure enough Reggie was there looking heated alongside Moose Mason, Adam Devine and Trey Walker.

Reggie stepped forward placing a hand out for Jughead to shake
“Maybe I’ve been an ass to you and maybe you haven’t deserved all the shit I’ve put you through, I’m sorry man. Sticking up to Chuck Clayton for your girl is a ballsy move. I watched my mom get knocked around by my dad my whole life, I’m not gonna let some punk beat up on girls and get away with it. Let us help you.”
His speech was accompanied by head nods and murmurs of agreement from the other three boys.

Grabbing Reggies hand and shaking it firmly Jughead nodded “it’s all good man.”

He turned around to cast a quick glance at Betty, Veronica was holding her tight and she looked terrified. He hated that he was scaring her, he wanted to run to her and hold her and tell her she would be okay, but he had to this.

“They’re under the bleachers, they hang out there now because they know they can’t be seen on the field.” Adam said from beside Reggie.

They all made their way over to the bleachers, Jughead felt himself getting madder and madder, all he could see was the damn purple bruise on his beautiful girlfriends temple.

There they were. Chuck Clayton and his goons standing huddled under the bleachers

Reggie smiled wickedly and mumbled “showtime” under his breathe before loudly declaring

“Hey fuckers!”

All four boys turned around, laughing stopped when they recognized their former teammates and the beanie wearing boy.

“What do we have here?” Chuck smirked cockily, eyeing Jughead up and down before his eyes drifted over his shoulder. “You got yourself a security team princess?” He called to Betty.
That was it. Jughead lunged, taking down Chuck instantly, he vaguely heard the other boys handling Chucks friends, he was blinded by rage.

He was punching him, repeatedly to be honest, he wasn’t doing much other than punching, there was blood everywhere and chuck was screaming and thrashing, but Jughead had all of his weight on top of him making him immobile.

Suddenly Archie was pulling him off the beaten boy on the ground
“You’re good Jughead, you’re good.”

Panting and staring down at the boy “stay the hell away from Betty, don’t look at her, don’t talk to her, don’t even breathe near her or I’ll kill you, there won’t be anyone to stop me. I will kill you” he spit out, shoving past the boys as Reggie turned to his boys a shocked expression on his face “that was badass, we gotta get him on the team, we need a new right tackle.”

He made his way to Betty who was crying now as she reached up to touch his face
“You’re bleeding.” She whispered

He touched his nose and winced, he hadn’t even realized chuck had hit him.
“I’m okay. The more important question is are you okay?”

Leaning her head against his chest she breathed shakily before looking up at him

“I love you Jughead Jones, more than anything in this world”

He just laughed relieved

“You have no idea, Betty Cooper”

anonymous asked:

Jamie is the towns local vet, he is about to close the practice for the day when Claire rushes in with a sick/injured Adso! Sparks fly between the two.

Jamie closed the last chart of the day and stretched, enjoying the soft rock playing over the clinic speakers. It had been an unusually long day, but his paperwork was finally done, and he was ready to close shop for the weekend.

Just then, a cloud of curls burst through the doors, looking about as distressed as the woman who bore them and, for that matter, the wee cheetie she was holding carefully under its belly. It wore a crest of painful looking porcupine quills; the work of a half-hour at least.

Yet his protest that it was a minute to closing died on his lips as he met with the woman’s golden eyes.

Dumbstruck as he was, it took him a minute to connect the crisp English accent to her.

“I’m terribly sorry for bursting in so late, it’s just that it seems there are no other veterinarians open at this hour, nor for the weekend, and I came home to find that Adso had picked the wrong fight -“

The kitten narrowed its eyes and let out a rumble of displeasure, as though remembering its foe and their undoubtedly bitter battle.

“Nae trouble at all!” Jamie said a tad too enthusiastically. “Ms…”

“Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp.” 

“Jamie Fraser. Call me Jamie.” He replied, standing back and motioning the way to one of the exam rooms.

She visibly relaxed and followed him back. “Thank you so much. Lord knows the little fool deserves it -“ was it Jamie’s imagination, or did the “little fool’s” rumbling get louder at that? - “but I worry he’d hurt himself more if I left it for next week,” Claire continued, placing the cheetie on the exam table; either unfazed by its behaviour, or used to it.

Seems ye’ve caught a witch, Jamie lad. He stymied his thoughts before they could say any further stupid things.

“A porcupine, ye say? Weel he’s luckily he didna get it worse then.” Jamie commented as he placed a hand on the cat’s fluffy rear in an attempt to stabilize him.

Lightning-fast, he pinched the quill near its base and tugged, simultaneously freeing it and producing a loud yowl from the unfortunate critter.  

“One down, about seven more to go.” Claire beamed at him.

“Ooch the first is the easiest,” Jamie explained, “these last ones, weel it depends on the beast, but I dinna think yon cheetie will let them go without a fight.”

He was somewhat embarrassed to find his Scots accent deepening in her presence, and he wondered if she noticed.

“Shhh wee cheetie, dinna fash” he murmured reassuringly, petting its unquilled lower half as he slowly lowered his hand towards what currently resembled nothing so much as a sentient and very angry dustball.

A quick paw reached out and batted his hand away, hissing.

“Adso!” Claire admonished the cat, strikingly like a parent castigating a small child, “let the nice man help you.”

Jamie couldn’t hide his grin as Adso reluctantly lowered his paw, as though he understood his human’s words.

Weel if she is a witch, I’d let her enchant me any day.

She turned an apologetic gaze towards him, “I’m so sorry, he’s really normally sweet…”

“Aye, it’s the pain doing it. I’ve had it happen with horses, so a cheetie’s no trouble.” He reassured her.

“A horse? Really! I’d wouldn’t imagine they would be so foolish as to take on a porcupine.”

She shot an accusatory look at Adso, and he looked away with as much dignity as he could muster in the situation.

Jamie couldn’t help but smile even more broadly. He was uncomfortably aware that he’d been smiling far more than was normal. Complete dolt, that’s what she thinks of ye, lad.

“Not generally, but some sometimes the two startle each other and there’s a wee stramash.”

Claire laughed, and Jamie felt oddly proud to have achieved that. When, he wondered, had he become such a bonehead around women?

He returned his attention (or at least his eyes) to the kitten, gently questing for information as he divested it of its painful ornaments.

“Ye’re not from here, I think?” He asked.

“No, I’m new to Inverness. Moved here to… finish up my medical residency.”

Caught by the sorrow of her tone, he didn’t get his hand back fast enough, and found it instantly mauled by the offended feline.

Claire let out a huff of laughter, but the echo of sorrow was still there.

Jamie extracted his finger from the beastie’s wee claws and tentatively pushed her on it.

“A sassenach in Inverness? That’s an odd choice, if ye don’t mind my saying.”

For a moment she looked as though she would brush him off, but then she let out a breath and something about her seemed to relax, to accept whatever it was she had to tell him.

“I don’t, it’s just… I’ve just gotten divorced. Wanted a fresh start and all that. Some distance.” She looked past the room as she said it, but returned to the present after a moment, meeting his eyes in a manner that had a hint of a challenge to it.

Jamie held her eyes, hoping he was managing to convey sympathy instead of the pity he imagined she often received.

“I understand, though for what it’s worth, I’m surprised any man would willingly part from you.”

He felt the heat rise in his face once more. Ye damn clumsy fool. She’s being open with ye and ye decide the best response is to flirt? Ye should be happy if she claps yer ears and walks out. No less than ye deserve.

Yet she did not clap his ears, nor indeed did she walk out. Jamie seized on the silence to make amends.

“I’m sae sorry, that was rude of me, I-“

“No, no. It was fine, really.” She seemed to hesitate over her next words, and Jamie held his breath.

“It’s just been a while since… I don’t know, since such advances were welcome, I suppose.”

Jamie felt as though he was bolted to the spot. He knew he should say something, but his mind had gone completely blank.

Strident rock chords broke their bubble.

“HEAVY PETTING / COME UP BREATHING” growled the singer  

Jamie looked as though someone had dropped him in a boiling pot. Ears glowing bright enough to rival a phone booth, he leapt out of the room and fumbled with the computer, mumbling something about “damn playlist,” and “Alec’s nephew, wee sod.”

Claire burst into laughter at this sudden spectacle, gasping for breath and earning an inquisitive “mrrp?” from Adso that perfectly matched the expression Jamie turned towards her as he re-entered the room. This did nothing to help with the breathing situation, which was becoming quite dire, all sound having been cut off in her mirth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Jamie asked, grinning as he leaned against the door frame.

“Yes, I most certainly am!” Claire gasped, trying to regain her composure.

Jamie found himself unable to resist laughing with her.

Another delicate bubble of silence enveloped them as they recovered.

“I should be on my way. Weekend clinic tomorrow.”

“Oh, aye. Of course.” He agreed, clearing his throat and trying to hide his disappointment. And what did ye think ye’d do, hey? Invite her to yer home just after meeting her? Along with her cheetie?

Claire picked up her unhappy but now de-quilled kitten, tucking him in the crook of her arm to prevent him from squirming too much as he saw her to the door.  

She opened her mouth, her face seeming to indicate something was on her mind. But she seemed to decide against it, simply smiling, thanking him, and bidding him a good night.

He beamed, transfixed by the warmth of her smile; a heat he felt right down to his bones.

“Nae trouble, Claire. Good night to you as well.”

Jamie stared at the door for some time after she left, enjoying the flittering of butterflies in his stomach before he realized he’d not thought to ask for her number.

The following week was one of the rare busy weeks at the hospital, and as such, Claire pushed her plans to meet the hot vet once more to the back of her mind. Yet as luck would have it, life intervened to give her another chance.

A plaintive howl emerged from behind the nurse’s desk as Claire walked up to it, eager to confirm her shift was indeed over so she could go home for the weekend.

Nurses Hildegarde, Fitz and Duncan were crowded around its source.

“I dinna care if it’s ill, it’s a mangy dog, no’ a person!” Geillis griped.

“Oh no, is Bouton under the weather?” Claire asked, leaning over to get a look at the miserable dog. Affectionately known as the “petit docteur,” Bouton was a familiar presence on the ward, beloved by the patients and staff (save for nurse Duncan, who seemed to be the only person in the world he didn’t get along with), and known for catching things that even the doctors missed.

“I am afraid so. He has been under the weather for the past few days; I am concerned for him.” Nurse Hildegarde explained, casting a sympathetic look at the poor beast.

“I’ll bring him to a vet!” Claire offered, rather too hastily.

At the nurses’ raised brows, she tried to amend her enthusiasm. “It’s just that I know a very good vet, and I live close… well, close-ish…”

Seeing her rising blush, Nurse Hildegarde hid a smile. “That would be so kind of you, Claire.”

“No trouble at all!” Claire hastily threw on her coat and rushed out, bearing a somewhat startled terrier.

“A vet, then? Geillis grinned slyly. “Think that means he likes it doggy-style?”

Nurse Fitz whacked her with a chart.  

My boyfriend puts a computer whizz wannabe in her place

My boyfriend is a QA Tech in a food factory, there’s a lot of paperwork, a lot of procedure to follow and it’s a lot of work. One of his coworkers is the laziest, most obnoxious person I’ve ever met, she strolls into work sometimes as much as 3 hours late while my boyfriend has to pick up her work. She constantly talks down to him, complains about him doing things differently to her and is just a general uppity bitch.

This one day she’s feeling especially full of herself, bragging about how she’s so fantastic with computers, showing people gimpy little tricks she can do (I’m not techy but my boyfriend is). She came into work half an hour late as per, stood around moaning about having to work and after showing off her ‘skills’ threw the mouse at my boyfriend and announced “I’m going on my break, you finish this.” He decides to make a show of her and changes the speed of the cursor so it’s incredibly slow. When she comes back from her break she claims control of the computer.

A quote from my boyfriend: “She started trying to use the mouse but the cursor was moving across the page so slow she started hitting the mouse on the table, growling and swearing at it all while I’m silently pissing myself in the doorway. I asked her what’s up, can’t she fix it? and she flipped the fuck out it was brilliant hysterical laughter”.

She left the room trying to find someone to fix it, in which time he sped it up to the max. When she came back with the manager he casually strolled out of the room and waited outside. As she’s saying “I don’t know what’s up with it, it won’t work properly” he hears the mouse go flying off the desk and a thud. She had pushed the mouse so vigorously expecting it to be slow, that when the cursor flew across the screen it took her by surprise and the mouse flew out of her hand, sending her into the desk and banging her knee.

She spent the rest of the day sulking.

21 august 2016 —

i will try my best to post more i’m so sorry about the lack of posts ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ but school ends either one hour or one and half hours earlier for me starting from next week guess who’s a happy child (actually i still stay in school til quite late for night study it doesn’t make any difference) but it’s the start of a new week tomorrow all the best to all you lovely people  (❁´◡`❁)*✲゚*

Coda 12.11

They pulled off for gas three hours outside of Lebanon, beneath a late afternoon sky that was heavy with rain.

Dean got the gas pumping with the last of their cards and then leaned back tiredly against the trunk, bones still aching from the remnants of Rowena’s spell, head sore, eyes heavy. (Witches were pains in his ass even when they were, y’know, being helpful, and he wasn’t changing his mind about that anytime soon.) There was a diner just across the way, tucked in beside a motel with a VACANCY in the office window and a half-lit neon sign out front, and he thought for a couple of heartbeats about just settling in for the night, grabbing some burgers and a couple of beers and then a good twelve hours of shut-eye. But he wanted his own bed, really, and Sam, well—Sammy was barely holding it together, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it, and Dean just wanted to get him home.

Kid always had been crap at coping whenever Dean got hurt. 

He watched him getting coffee through the plate-glass window for a little while, let his gaze linger on his brother’s long legs and lean hips, on his soft mop of hair and his tired, beautiful face. Sam had been the last thing he’d forgotten, before the world had tilted sideways and everything he was had gone sliding into the dark, and the first thing he’d remembered after Rowena had brought it back—before his name, before Alistair or the Mark or Crowley or Cain, before Mom, before Cas. Just a rush of warmth and home and mine and Sammy, amid the kaleidoscope of memories slotting back into place against his heart: the kid’s hair sticking up in five different directions before he showered, the curve of his spine as he bent over a book, the scent of his skin and the warmth of his smile and the way he sometimes looked at him like Dean were the only thing that mattered in the world.

The brother that had come in on the tail end of all of that had startled the living fuck out of him.  There’d been no way to dodge the messy truth that had hit him like a hammer to the chest a moment later, and it had left a heart-deep, bone-deep bruise that Dean was pretty sure was going to hurt until he died. Because he’d known even then, amid the fading violet glow from the grimoire, that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell Sam about this, couldn’t ask the kid for this; it would only … it would only make things worse, whenever a reaper came calling for good and left one of them to carry on alone.

He knew that. He did. All the same, as Sam came shuffling out of the station, frowning at his phone, Dean’s coffee in his other hand, he let himself imagine, just for a moment, hooking a hand around his neck and tugging his head down to kiss him, let himself imagine the soft velvet of his brother’s pretty mouth and the silk of his hair and the heat of his skin, the feel of him tucked in warm and safe and close against him. He let himself imagine, just for a moment, and then he locked it down behind his breastbone and swallowed against the grief.

The gas tick-tick-ticked to a stop beside him, and Sam was thirty, twenty, ten feet away.  I love you, he thought, chest aching, and then he scrubbed a hand across his face and turned off the pump, and by the time he turned back to take his coffee out of his brother’s hand and say something teasing and stupid to make the kid roll his eyes and smile, his eyes were dry, and his voice was steady. He could do this; he could. He would. He had to.

He climbed back into his baby and waited for Sam to slide in beside him, and then he pointed them north and west toward home.


Hello guys! I hope you’re doing well ‘ v ‘)7

As you may know, I’m not really active on here lately. I’m taking animation class this semester and we’re assigned to make 3 minutes animation in just half of the semester (approximately three months), the animation I’m working on consists of 66 shots,  I need to spend about 3 hours to make 3 seconds shot. Not only this assignment that keeps me away from doing my hobby, some assignments also make me super busy. In short, this semester is really hectic and I don’t even have spare time to draw quality fanarts ;;

I’ll be taking a hiatus until 22nd December (but I might be posting some doodles and I’ll still answer your questions -but not often), so see ya!

i was thinkin bout holsom as per usual but like?? rans studying late at night and holts is sorta leaving him alone bc he’s close enough to coral reef mode and he doesn’t want to entirely destroy their friendship by disrupting the ecosystem but he looks over at their shared desk after like… a few hours, it’s about 1am probably but he hasnt checked the time in a while, and rans is just sorta passed out with his face planted on his notes and his textbook with a page half turned under his cheek and his hands still almost on his laptop… Holster takes just a second to look at his ridiculous smart beautiful boyfriend and he loves that he can call him his boyfriend and then he gets up and pulls the spare blanket down from the top bunk and drapes it over rans’ shoulders and doesn’t try to get him out of the chair, that’ll only wake him up, and he gently kisses his cheek and plans to probably go run and get coffee for him tomorrow morning good lord

Rogue One and the Star Wars Meta-Narrative


We’ve been having an on-going conversation in YA lit lately about world-building, politics, colonialism, and navigating harmful meta-narratives of power. It was all I could think of for an hour after seeing Rogue One last night. (When I wasn’t thinking about how devastating this movie would have been to me as a kid. ;___; )

First of all, let’s get this out of the way: I liked the movie, for the most part. The second half in particular was very exhilarating and well done, with regards to action and emotional resonance. If the main character, Jyn, was a little too free of characterization, a little too audience-insert with no discernible motivation for most of the movie, the rest of the posse made up for it. They were all men, alas, but all men of color, which is amazing, and for the most part quickly and succinctly characterized (for better or worse stereotype in a few cases.) It’s the most diverse Star Wars movie yet, though the Rebels in power are still white and the only WOC is barely on screen and her political position is not exactly aligned with the Heroes.

So I liked it, on the level of story and plot and character (mostly).

Looking at the meta narrative means pulling your POV as a reader/viewer/critic back to look at the building blocks, the tropes and archetypes, and the political structure of the work with regards to the greater puzzle of the culture’s power structure and the power dynamics the work is in conversation with (within its own world/series and external works).

[spoilers and discussion of specific meta-narrative below the cut] 

Keep reading

pooka-dragon  asked:

What about comforting their loved ones?

(Sorry it’s late! Since I already did one where the s/o is scared, I’ll do if they lost someone/something important to them.)


  • It will take some time before he notices.
  • Not too long, just about half an hour
  • Will try his best to make you smile.
  • Showers you with affection, tells you jokes, cuddles, personal dance shows, etc.
  • He will try to pry out what is wrong, but won’t if you don’t feel like talking.
  • Bendy will most likely cry with you.
  • It hurts him to see you so sad.


  • He notices right away that something is wrong.
  • Makes sure that there is nothing planned for the next couple days so you can work out whatever is going on.
  • If there is, he will reschedule it, so don’t worry about that.
  • Asks you if you want to talk about it, but he probably already knows.
  • Wolf instinct you guys.
  • Boris will help you grieve and move on.


  • He understands completely.
  • How do you think he felt when he had to leave Bendy and Boris?
  • Will help you through the stages of grief with ease.
  • For the next couple days, be prepared for him to stay by your side.
  • Makes sure you’re fed, clean, keeping your house clean, and making sure the sadness doesn’t lead to anything worse.
  • Henry will definitely draw you around things you love.
  • Just wants to see you smile again.


  • He drops his act so fast.
  • Joey will almost never leave your side.
  • Babies you, unless you don’t want to be.
  • Gives you a lot of PDA.
  • Takes you out for dinner, a movie, anything you want.
  • Sticks with you through thick and thin.
  • Doesn’t want to make matters worse, so lets you deal with it mostly.
  • He is still there to support you though.
2. Peeing them self at a desk

Hannah stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. The slow on-off of the vertical little stripe is taunting her, she knows it. She knows she has only until midnight to finish the essay that will make up half her grade, and she also knows that she left it until way too late. If she keeps typing uninterrupted for the next couple of hours, she only needs about 400 words per sixty minutes to make the word limit. It is not insurmountable per se, but it would mean she needs to focus for the next couple of hours, and that’s not going to be an easy feat. Especially with the added… compications.

She shifts in her seat and wrinkles her nose at the way the movement crinkles. It was downright humiliating, the position she found herself in, but to be fair- she had kind of brought it down upon herself. Her roommate, Jane, had warned her several times that she wasn’t going to take much more complaining about the essay if Hannah didn’t actually do something about it. Of course that hadn’t deterred her from complaining more, and the next thing she knew, the snack cabinet *and* the liquor cabinet had brand new locks on them, the combination of which Hannah would get only if she was going to work non-stop until she was finished. Jane had even threatened to give away the more expensive bottles of liquor if Hannah didn’t ’ shut up and get it over with’, and since she didn’t drink herself Hannah wasn’t about to call her bluff on that.

Of course she still had the need to be cheeky about it. ‘What about toilet breaks,’ she’d said, 'you can’t stop me from taking a piss when I need to.’ She’d felt vindicated when Jane had shut up, but in hindsight she probably should have recognised the glint in her eye. Jane always did take being challenged rather seriously.

Which brings Hannah to her current situation. Sat at her desk with a half-finished essay in front of her and her arse encased in the biggest diaper she’d ever seen. It would be ridiculous, except that it had worked so far. Jane had left her alone in their shared room, but had hinted that she would know if Hannah got of the chair before finishing. Well, if saying 'I’ll know if you’ve gotten off that chair before finishing’ can count as 'hinting’. It seemed ridiculous, but this was coming from the girl who once filled someone’s shower with playpen balls just to prove a point. Best not to test her, really.

With apprehension bordering on fefar rooting her to her chair, it had seemed silly not to start writing on the essay, and she’d maken good headway. In the beginning she’d laid off the iced tea that served as hydration, but once she got to writing she’d gotten confident that she would finish before she would start to feel a need to pee, so she’d popped open the first bottle when she got thirsty. That had been two and a half bottles ago, and she was starting to regret the mistake.

As fast as the writing had gone in the beginning, she has now hit a block, and at the same time she can feel her bladder start to fill up. She isn’t quite at the point where she would normally get up to piss, but it won’t be long and in the meanwhile she’s only written about 50 new words in the past twenty minutes. The diaper mocks her with its crinkling as she shifts again, trying to think of something new to say. Any other time and this would be enough to tempt her into checking facebook for 'just five minutes’ and then suddenly two hours would be gone. If she does that now, though, she will be that much closer to wetting herself in a diaper like a baby, and that thought is enough to drag her attention back to her writing. She can do this. She’ll have to do this.

The internal pep talk works and for a while she is submerged in her writing again. The wordcount goes up and up, and while it is not a masterpiece, it’s not crap either. The slow filling of her bladder is only noticeable in the very back of her mind as she makes connection and comes up with conclusions. Writing like this is thirsty work, and before she knows it she’s polished off her third bottle and has opened her fourth.

The next time the urge hits her, she actually has to press her thighs together under her desk. The movement of it only serves to pull her attention to the strange bulk of the diaper between her legs. The plush cushioning of it is not uncomfortable, but it doesn’t give her nearly the relief that she needs right now, the pressure that would help keep the piss gathering within her at bay. It is getting harder to concentrate now, but she keeps writing, even though her leg is bouncing in agitation the whole time.

There is no ignoring the pressure in her abdomen now, but she soldiers on with her writing. She’s almost there, just another page, maybe two at most. She feels kind of ridivulous, sitting there struggling not to leak while she knows there is a toilet just behind the door. If her first option is a diaper though, Hannah has no desire to find out what Jane has in store for her should she not follow the rules. No, she just has to suck it up and finish before-

She gasps in the middle of typing a sentence and her hands shoot to her crotch. She doesnt just have to pee now, she *needs* it, and the need is coming in waves. It’s not just her bladder now, but her pussy is throbbing with it, as if the piss that’s building up within her is violently battering at the walls of her control, eager to burst out and soak into the padding that was designed with that express purpose. There’s heat now where the padding is pressing into her cunt, and she only has a few moments to breathe before another wave of need sends another spurt out of her.

Hannah whimpers as she cuts it of before it can grow into a full-on stream, but it feels like the lid is almost blown off her control. She’s certain she’s dribbling, even as she clenches and bears down to keep the liquid inside of her for just a moment longer. The worst part is, she is not so sure if she would even make it to the toilet if she were to stand up right now. Her bladder is a hot tights ball in her abdomen and every little shift in her chair has her feeling like there’s an ocean sloshing around inside of her.

She doesn’t even decide it when her body finally gives up. One moment she’s holding on for dear life, whimpering as she shifts in her seat, and she is suddenly hit by an all-encompassing feeling of relief. Her body melts into the chair as the heat around her crotch suddenly increases and a loud but muffled hiss signals the piss finally pouring out of her urethra. It surges out in a flood of wet heat, and she can feel the padding of the diaper swell and fill where she is still pressing her hands into her crotch. The front of it rapisly swells, and mere moments later she fills up the seat of it as well, moisture leeching under her ass as well as she fills up the diaper to it’s full capactity. It is squishy and heavy by the time her stream finally starts to taper off, and for a moment she fears she will overflow it, piss still pouring out of her even as it seeps out through the seems and onto the chair and floor. It seems safe though, even as she pushes the last bit of urine out of her blessedly empty bladder with a small grunt.

For a moment she just sits there, panting and shifting in the squishy wet diaper that she just filled up because she couldn’t hold her piss in for another moment. She feels like she should be disgusted with herself, or at least embarrased, but all she can feel is the warm and content afterglow of relief. She just pissed herself like a toddler, and she kind of liked it.

With one last squeeze of the warm mass between her legs, she turns back to her work. only one more page and she’s finished, after all.

Say You Love Me.Pt1.joe sugg.

The sound of laughter echoed throughout the flat as I witnessed my grown friends film a YouTube video. My iPhone became more interesting by the minute though. My manager , Stacy, texting me all the tour dates I would attend with my friend Conor Maynard. He and I sing, we’re kinda good. We would be opening for the vamps tour 2017. To say I’m excited is an understatement.

It was late when I decided to leave, my apartment being in the same complex. I had my own filming to do plus I didn’t want to be sat around joe anymore. Everything was set up by 9, quickly I fixed my makeup and hair before starting the music. The keys to drive by Miley Cyrus began.

Feeling very passionate about the song and as it explained how I felt it wasn’t hard to pick. I posted the video straight away although it would take half hour to post. I added a sassy comment in the description before linking my socials before I checked my phone.

‘New cover in 30. I love the song hope you guys do too’.

I received a bunch of retweets and replies back. Some standing out more than others. Not in the mood to reply I ignored them and began playing music off my tv.

'So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans’ I sang along with ed, spinning and dancing around my flat.

'Oh you can fit me inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen’ a voice shouted/sang loudly behind me causing me to jump. I span around to stare at my best friend of 12 years Emily. She stood almost crying of laughter at my reaction.

“EMMMM LEE” I shouted rather loudly, I’m sure the boys would’ve heard it from their flat. Jumping onto my great friend both of us laughing as she fell to the floor. We haven’t seen each other as she’s been in our hometown visiting her parents for the past 2 months.

'Em’ this time I spoke quietly before the tears began.

'Oh no baby what’s up’ she quelled, hugging me as we sat on the couch.

My head moved towards my ceiling, hoping the tears would go away. But they stayed consistent. She used her fingers to wipe a few away before just hugging me until I finished crying.

'Umm’ my voice shook. I didn’t want to explain. 'I umm slept with joe’.

Her expressions were confused and I understood why.

'That’s good though right? I thought you liked him’ her head slated as she asked.

'We were drunk’ I scoff after the shirt sentence.'I listened as he walked out at 5 in the morning. He thought I was asleep’.

'Oh no baby’ she hugged me.

'It gets worse’ she looked confused again. 'He had um left his bank card’ she nodded ’ I woke up again at 9 to Caspar knocking my door asking for it back. He claimed I had taken joes by accident’.

'Wow. How stupid do they think you are’ she stated obviously pissed off at the situation.

'Obviously very stupid’ I spoke softly my head held low.

'You should’ve called me (y/n/n), I would’ve some home early’ I shrugged.

'Anyway’ I wiped my wet cheeks ’ how was home?’.


'I’m so damn excited for this party’ em squealed as she checked her outfit in the mirror.

'Yeah me too’ I lied. I was definitely not excited.

It was December 1st. Meaning Zoe’s and Alfie’s annual early Christmas party, more like gathering really. She had done a secret santa this year for everyone, I ended up getting josh. My ginger haired friend was brought a new hair comb, new microphone for filming as he broke his two weeks ago and didn’t have enough money to replace it and some perfume.

Emily had gotten joe, so she had simply brought him a new ‭phone‬ case which contained holders for bank cards. Sarcastic as fuck.

We had left our hotel room around six thirty pm, the zalfie house only down the road. Jack and Mikey waited patiently for half hour for us to get ready in the lobby. Hey we’re also sharing a room but a few floors below us.

'Hello babe’ jack hugged me as Emily greeted mike.

'Hey jacky’ I kissed his cheek before pulling away, I was possibly closest to him now me and joe are no longer friends.

'Coy, (y/n/n) you look amazing’ Mikey spoke loudly, like usual before hugging me tightly.

'So do you lp’.

It really did take two minutes to get to zalfies. Everyone else already there and waiting for us.

'Alright then guys. Now everyone is here’ Zoe jokingly gave me,em,jack and Mikey a glare before continuing ’ were gonna begin with secret santa’ she squealed 'everyone circle’ she shouted this time.

Everyone followed her commands after we recovered from laughing. I sat crisscrossed between jack and Emily, directly across from joe, Casper and josh. Our presents rested in the middle of the circle. Each of us would get our bags, one at a time, and guess who they were from.

Tanya had started first, she giggled at most of her presents, I recognised most as I helped jack buy them. We had brought her a few of lipsticks and eye shadow palette from her own make up range and a pair of beautiful burgundy high heels in her size as I had remembered her complaining she had none. She had guessed Zoe or Emily had brought them before asking me before realising it was Jack.

Jim was next and Casper was his secret santa, getting him those mouth things.
Conor was jacks, he had brought jack a bunch of fake piercings.
Josh was caspers and brought him a pair of primark daps in a horrid colour.


A hour, it took us a hour to simply open some presents. I had received a beautiful blue necklace from Mikey and some makeup items that Zoe and Tanya helped him buy. We were now playing a game of truth or dare, I know. It was Alfie’s idea so please don’t judge.

Zoe had to do jims makeup. Conor and josh had to kiss, wasn’t done though, they complained like baby’s. Mikey and Emily kissed. Caspar had to go next door naked. Joe had to allow Jack to tweet off his ‭phone. Now Alfie was asking me.

’(Y/n/n) truth or dare?’ He asked with a smirk, I already knew I was done for.

'Truth’ he moaned at me before continuing.

'Lame. Whatever fine. Uhh have you ever had a one night stand with anyone here’ my eyes quickly shot to EM before looking towards joe who was staring at me.

'Yeah’ I simply shrugged. Everyone began going insane, asking me who, when and how.

'Oh my fucking god spill the tea’ Zoe spoke quickly, wanting to know all.

'It doesn’t really matter, we were both drunk and he left before I even woke up, so it meant nothing. Really’ everyone kinda looked sympathetic towards me. Joe and Casper sat awkwardly.

'Was it my brother? Cause I know how close you two are’ Conor stated, moving his finger back and fore me and jack.

We chuckled before Jack stated 'nah, even though he’s here the guy is a piece of shit’. I looked towards him with confusion, he didn’t even know who it was.

So I’m back. And I know this is kinda crappy but it’ll get better. Request part 2. NOT PROOF READ.


Pairing: ReaderXReid

Prompt: The two of you are the only two still awake on the plane during the long flight back to Quantico after a case closed. You discuss several topics, however the biggest one is fears.

Warning: talks about drowning

A/N: I feel like I’ve been sort of having a weird writers block lately so sorry if this story sorta sucks. 

“What’s your biggest fear?” you asked Spencer after several moments of the two of you sitting in silence, your last conversation about the plausibility of extraterrestrial life having just died out.

The flight had only taken off an hour and a half ago and already everyone was out like a light. Everyone except for you and Spencer of course, considering you two still had the internal clocks of college students who didn’t understand that 3am was a late time to go to sleep at. 

“Biggest fear?” Spencer asked, furrowing his brow slightly. “I don’t really think about fear, it’s simply a neural response in the amygdala and it’s a rather unbeneficial one at that. Fear often stops us from doing things that make us happy in life.” he spoke softly, putting his elbow up on the back of the jets sofa and placing his head in his hand.

“Well some people view fear as a motivator.” you retorted, raising an eyebrow as you shifted your body to face Spencer’s more. You loved talking to him, even if it was him proving you wrong or him rattling off Derek’s phone number for you. Something about his voice was intoxicating to you. No matter what he was saying you would be hooked.

“It may be a motivator for some but it’s a very low level motivator. You do something because you’re afraid of punishment not because you want to do something. And if you want to do something than fear wouldn’t even be involved in it at all.”

“What about sky diving? I think that would be fun but I’m terrified to do it.” you responded back, stumping Spencer for a second, his eyes falling down to look at the small space in between the two of your bodies on the sofa. 

“But in that situation fear is stopping you from doing it.” Spencer retorted, bringing his eyes back up to yours, his gaze freezing for a brief moment on your lips.

“No it’s not, I’m going skydiving in two weeks.” you chuckled, knowing you had stumped him once again however also knowing that if you didn’t end it right now that the debate would continue for the rest of the plane ride. “But let’s ignore all that, what is your biggest fear? Everyone has one.”

“I don’t know.” Spencer responded after a moment of racking his brain for a time he was truly scared. “What’s yours?”

“Probably drowning.” you responded in a heart beat, knowing exactly what it was that got your heart racing. “When I was a kid I was at the beach one day with my parents and I was swimming around when a riptide came and it started washing me out into the ocean.” you spoke, recalling the incident that had happened to you when you were younger. “I started breathing in water because I couldn’t get my head above water. Then my dad’s hand came out of no where and he grabbed me and pulled me up out of the water.” you paused, a small chill running down your spine. “I never liked water much after that.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, his lips slightly parted as his brain comprehended the story that he had never heard before.

“So what’s your biggest fear?” you asked once again, hoping that you telling him about yours might help him think of one.

He looked at you for a moment before answering. 

“Having something bad happen to someone I love.”

Originally posted by marvelprincesspants

Rajigaze Dec 23

(Dark Side Mail)

Reita (reading mail): Since I was little, I’ve loved touching fish and other sea life so much I don’t know what to do with myself. I realized before I was in elementary school. I got goldfish at a street fair, and I went to change their water just to have an excuse to touch them. I ended up touching them for nearly an hour. About half an hour later, my mom found all five of them dead.

(Uruha giggling softly in background)

 Reita: She said, “I wonder what happened?” All I could say back was, “Yeah…” and I remember thinking then that I should never have pet fish. But I couldn’t resist my urge to touch fish. Another time I touched unprepared sanma (*kind of fish) until it lost its freshness, and my parents got mad at me. I found an outlet for my urges by being in charge of cleaning squid, shelling shrimp etc. Lately, when I see girls who look at fish and go, “ewww!” I get so annoyed I want to cluck my tongue at them. I know I’m weird. How can I stop being annoyed by them? I’m sorry this got so long. I’m looking forward to the anniversary live!“

Uruha: Maaaan, this is Deep…..

Reita: She’s like a female Sakana-kun.

(*Sakana-kun [Fish-kun] is the nickname of a famous marine biologist/talent who wears a cute lil fish shaped hat and a lab coat bless him)

Uruha: (giggling) Sakana-kun…Sakana-chan!

Reita: Yes, she is Sakana-chan.

Uruha: So, what…she likes fish…

Reita: She just loves fish so much….

(long pause)

Uruha: I didn’t know ur not supposed to touch goldfish

Reita: …..Uhhhh –

Uruha: Maybe it’s just fish in general?

Reita: Well I mean it’s obviously not good to touch a fish that much (laughs)

Uruha: A human hand must feel like a hot iron plate to a fish.

Reita: Hmm I wonder….and we don’t know how hard she was touching them either.

Uruha: Hmmm…well well well well –


(*this is Sakana-kun catch phrase, ‘gyo’ also means fish)

(both laugh)

Uruha: You really wanted to say that didn’t you

Reita: Yeh I did hehe…so what do you think about this? When she sees other
girls grossed out by fish, she gets annoyed.

Uruha: Hmm…well, if you really liked fish, you might feel like they’re getting dissed. If you were Sakana-chan.

Reita: You’d be like, WOOOAHH.

(*this was also a fish pun because 'uo’ means fish too smh)

Uruha: Hahaha, shut up u loser

(Reita laughing v hard)

Uruha: Hmm….I feel like…it must be hard to find an outlet for an urge like that…

(Reita laughing)

Uruha: She’d have to always be touching sanma and stuff. Would that make her satisfied?

Reita: ….I mean I don’t know –

Uruha: So she should cook! Then she can touch them.

Reita: She could be a sushi chef….or a marine researcher.

Uruha: There are so many outlets!

(both laughing)

Uruha: Then she’ll be satisfied and she won’t have to go getting angry at people like GYOGYOGYO – Oh, UOOO.  

Reita: Yeah, UOOO.

(both giggle)

Reita: But getting annoyed at girls who see fish and go, ’'ewww!”…I guess it’s something like, omg stop trying to be cute.

Uruha: Yeah, but I bet they were actually cute af…the girls saying that  

Reita: Maybe she’s annoyed because she actually finds them cute, and she’s jealous?

Uruha: I think maybe she’s angry because they’re looking at [either her or the fish idk lmao] as below them? (giggles)

Reita: Oh yeah that might be it…I see….Yeah it’s probably that.

Uruha: We’re going with that?

Reita: Yeah.

Uruha: That’s good?

Reita: That’s good, that’s good…you know, people get mad when you hit a sensitive spot for them.

Uruha: And what if that sensitive spot is fish? (*he’s bein a supportive friend and setting up a pun opportunity ffs)

Reita: They’re rubbing her the wrong way!


(*The word for rubbing the wrong way is 'sakanade’, 'sakana’ = fish, I’m actually really impressed did they rehearse this)

Reita: (laughing v hard) Stop….stop…..

Uruha: Amazing………

Reita: Stop….. ur embarrassing me…. (laughing)

They might not be able to kiss at midnight, but things are still okay.

A small, little drabble for New Years :’)


“You’re late,” Jimin teases when the bedroom door finally shuts.  “By two hours.”

Jungkook grins, slipping his hands around Jimin’s waist, pulling him closer in the dim lit room. “I know.” He pauses, sways Jimin to a song he has stuck in his head as his eyes drift right down to his lips. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re gonna have to make up for it.”

He kisses Jimin in the middle of a laugh, lets their mouths linger for a half a second before he whispers back, “I can do that,” and kisses him again.

It’s not a midnight kiss, but maybe this is just as good. There’s one hand on his cheek in the dark, another leading him slow to the bed, and Jungkook doesn’t need fireworks in the background because 2AM kisses still spark just as bright, just as loud, echoing fiercely.

Jimin sits them down at the edge of the bed, breaking apart for only a moment to say, “Happy New Year.” His makeup is smudged at the corner of his eyes, the both of them a post-performance mess, but Jimin’s still the most beautiful thing Jungkook’s seen on this side of the Universe. He’s always thought so.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, guiding Jimin into the pillows before brushing blonde bangs back from his forehead. He presses his lips gently to the space he’s created.

“Any resolutions?”

Jungkook smirks, now kissing him on the cheek before answering. “To kiss you more than last year.”

“You’re stupid.” Jimin hits his chest lightly as Jungkook lands another kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“You love me.”

Jimin shakes his head, but says back quietly, “Yeah. I love you.” He rests his palms on either side of Jungkook’s face. “You’re still stupid though.”

There’s a small breath of time that they both just look at each other, grinning and glancing down at each other’s lips like they’ve been doing all night, before one of them shifts and the moment gets lost to lips on skin. And they stay like that for a while, kissing until the sun is just about to rise, to make up for any more midnights that might escape them.