not sure if i could call it

Taking calls for the airport: Greatest Hits

-That woman who wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any “low cost passengers” on HER flight. Took me five whole minutes to get her to understand that different airlines had in fact different planes, that she was safe from the plebs.
-That other woman who reacted to us having the same name like it was Christmas, started babblering about “our” hometown (yeah, right) and forgot about the motive of her call altogether.
-The man who knew his cousin was coming from somewhere in Italy to Madrid at some point in time. And got furious when I refused to try guessing which flight could it be.
-An old man who got really excited because I recognized the Devil’s name on his email adress (it was Mephistopheles, btw. He said he chose it because his real name was Ángel and he enjoyed the contrast).
-“Can we watch the Real Madrid match on the airport after leaving the plane? Or are we going to have to rush home and miss some of it??” said as it was a life or death matter.
-That very distressed woman who called because she had managed to lose her husband’s corpse somewhere in Málaga’s airport (?). Maybe by the bathroom (??).
-Some dude called because his friend had left the car in Barcelona’s airport parking, travelled to Gran Canaria then died there. So he couldn’t take the car because the dead guy had the parking ticket with him and the price kept going up and up… I transferred the hell out of that nonsense, of course
-“The planes are flying too low near my house, please stop them :(”. I’m on the case, ma'am.

Incendiary

Sooooo this is not from the next chapter, but from a future chapter… I don’t know when I am going to get a chance to write this again, but I thought that this would be more interesting to read, so you kind of have an idea of where I was going with some things.

Meet Gellert.


The air of the Great Hall was practically vibrating with excitement. The Heads of Houses had ushered their students back inside while Dippet spoke with the other Headmasters, telling them all to sit and wait. The tables had all been significantly lengthened.

“Leave a decent space at the end, here!” McGonagall called to the Gryffindors, gesturing at the side closest to where the staff sat. Throughout the Hall, Harry could see that the other Heads were doing the same with their students. “We want to make sure our guests have plenty of space to sit wherever they like. And I swear on Merlin’s grave, if a there is a single word—a single word!—spoken out of turn from Gryffindor house, I will not hesitate to dish out detentions! I want Gryffindor on its best behavior!”

She looked pointedly at Harry for a moment before glaring at Fred and George.

“What?” Fred balked. “We never speak out of turn, Professor.”

“You are speaking out of turn right now, Mr. Weasley!” she snapped. George opened his mouth to say something else, but McGonagall silenced him with such a venomous look that even Harry felt threatened. He and Fred looked down, seemingly docile and complacent.

“That’s better,” she said. “Your best behavior!” she then reiterated. Once her students all bobbed their heads in unison, murmuring ‘yes ma’am’, she nodded curtly and went to take her seat at the staff table. The other teachers did as well, and the Hall fell silent.

Everyone stared at the front of the Hall with anxious expectation, waiting for the new students to enter. It was probably the quietest the Great Hall of Hogwarts had ever been.

Finally, the doors swung open.

First entered Dippet, looking merry and smiling brightly, and walking next to him was the largest woman that Harry had ever seen, dressed in fine, shimmering robes. He barely suppressed a gasp, stopping himself only because he could feel McGonagall’s patronizing eyes on them like a hawk.

Dippet cleared his throat. “May I introduce the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Madame Maxime!”

The giant woman inclined her head, and the Hall clapped politely, despite the obvious state of shock most of them were in. She was massive! “And now, the students of Beauxbatons!”

Everyone shifted in their seats to get a better look. About a dozen young witches and wizards entered, wearing uniforms in light blue that looked to be made of silk. They walked proudly in two lines, moving in a haughty manner than almost looked rehearsed, as though they had practiced being unapproachable and detached—but not all of them. While most of the students had their shoulders squared and their chins raised, a few were obviously nervous or distracted. One gangly, ginger boy in the back was staring at the enchanted ceiling in awe, so blatantly impressed that he took his glasses off to wipe them clean on his robes so that he could see it better.

“Have a seat wherever you would like,” Dippet said, motioning towards the front of the tables. The group moved as one, exchanging glances and murmuring to each other. Obviously, they were going to stick together.

They passed the Slytherin table, and Harry could easily understand why—the Slytherins were all staring with cold, judgemental looks; a palpable hostility in their demeanors.

The Ravenclaws were also rather imposing, though their body language was less resentful and more curious than anything. The Beauxbaton students seemed to consider them, but then passed by this table, too.

Their attention flickered from the Hufflepuff table—the students of which smiled warmly and waved in a welcoming manner—to the Gryffindors. Their expressions became quickly alarmed when they looked at the table decorated in red, and it took Harry a moment to understand why that was the case. Nearly every Gryffindor had leaned forward, practically jumping up when the Beauxbatons students looked their way. They must have appeared far too eager, like a bunch of lions about to pounce.  

It was no wonder, then, when after about a two second deliberation in which they all whispered amongst themselves, the students from Beauxbatons sat at the Hufflepuff table. Harry couldn’t blame them. The Hufflepuffs did, by far, look the friendliest. Harry spotted Cedric Diggory and his fellow seventh years quietly greeting their guests, shaking hands and grinning.

Dippet cleared his throat, and everyone’s attention returned to him. Madame Maxine had gone to sit in a chair that was clearly meant for her next to Hagrid—who was staring at the Headmistress like she might be a mirage—and now a new person stood at Dippet’s side.

He was a thin wizard with a black goatee, and Harry could instantly tell that he was proud, harsh man. He did not smile when Dippet introduced him, only looked at the mass of students like he found them distasteful. He reminded Harry a bit of Snape. “This is the Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute, Igar Karkaroff!”

A respectful round of applause. Karkaroff looked blasé. Dippet didn’t seem to notice, though, and clapped Karkaroff on the shoulder like they were good, old friends. “Everyone welcome the students of Durmstrang!”

They could not have looked more different than the students from Beauxbatons.

While the witches and wizards from France wore uniforms that were light, both in color and fabric, the Durmstrang students wore thick, heavy cloaks that were all black and red. There were less of them, too, maybe eight all together… and, strangely enough, they were all wizards.

The biggest difference, however, was how the way in which they entered. Unlike the Beauxbatons students, in which no single witch or wizard stuck out very much, this group had one student who instantly drew the eye.

He was tall, blonde, and devastatingly handsome.

He stood in the center of the lot, and as they walked into the Hall, the others almost appeared to be flanking him on either side. The students all wore heavy capes, but he wore one with a tall collar made of black velvet. They all wore boots, but this young wizard wore boots that went up to his knees, covered in silver buckles with thick, black heels that probably made him stand an inch taller than he already did. His ears were covered in silver piercings, his hair was artfully disheveled—not messy in the sense that Harry’s was, as though a rooster had permanently tried to make its home there—but in an effortless, purposeful way.

And his eyes—his eyes were a piercing blue, made even more striking by the fact that they were lined with something dark and smoky, like charcoal.

He was smiling. It wasn’t friendly.

A few of the other boys from Durmstrang were clearly trying to emulate this look—a few had a number of piercings and tousled hair; a couple wore tall-ish boots or raised collars—but none did it as grandly as the blonde in the center, and none of them looked so regal.

It was obvious that this wizard was the leader. The rest of the boys walked a few paces behind him, and occasionally cast him speculative looks, like they were waiting to see what he may do.

The blonde kept his eyes forward. Dippet didn’t have to instruct them to find a place to sit, as he led the group towards the front of the hall without hesitation.

“Whoa,” Ron murmured under his breath, and Harry could tell that he was not the only one staring with raised brows. Even Hermione looked awestruck.

The Durmstrang students hovered for a moment at the Slytherin table. There was no discussion happening between them like there had been with those from Beauxbatons; evidently, the decision lied solely with their imposing leader.

The blonde looked at the Slytherins not as though he found their cold front intimidating, but amusing. His smoky eyes gleamed. Harry strained his neck to look, but from where he was seated, he couldn’t tell who the Durmstrang boy was looking at.

He wondered if it was Riddle.

They moved past the Slytherins.

There was a moment of deliberation as the blonde’s eyes flashed from the inquisitive Ravenclaws to the enthusiastic Gryffindors. When they landed on the scarlet table, his smile widened.

It was settled. The Durmstrang boy led his throng of fellow students towards the Gryffindors, where Harry could see the upper classmen—most enthusiastically, Fred and George—grinning victoriously to have acquired the Scandinavian students. They took a seat, and were instantly greeted with vigor.

The boy with the blonde hair and many piercings glanced quickly down the table, and Harry caught his eye for the briefest of moments. Harry wondered if it was just him, or if everyone who made eye contact with this boy went breathless for a second.

If Tom Riddle carried himself like a prince, Harry thought, with his fake, charming smiles and graceful movements, then this wizard, whoever he was, carried himself like a king.

anonymous asked:

I'm ace, but also straight I guess? I am a cisman, and I am romantically attracted to people who identify as female, but the term straight never really fit me. I also get a strong attraction towards males, but it is not sexual or romantic, but I wouldn't necessarily mind if it did turn into something romantic. I am not too sure how to describe this and am very confused.

There’s a lot of types of attraction that fall outside of strictly romantic and sexual attraction. Your attraction to me sounds to me like it could be platonic or alterous attraction.

Platonic attraction (also sometimes called queerplatonic or quasiplatonic) is really similar to romantic attraction except that it’s not romantic in nature. It’s more like a really intense friendship crush. You want to be close, you want to be important to them, but you don’t feel a need to date or be romantic with them.

Alterous attraction is an attraction that’s neither entirely platonic nor romantic in nature. But wanting an emotional closeness that’s not necessarily (or at all) platonic or romantic. Someone who experiences alterous attraction may also feel their attraction falls into platonic or romantic, but feels uncomfortable saying it is wholly one or the other.

Basically alterous attraction is mostly about wanting an emotional closeness with the person you’re attracted to.

Both of these are considered standalone attractions and can have their own orientations, so you can be bi-platonic or bi-alterous as a random example.

If you don’t feel like either of those quite describe you, there’s also gray-romantic identities that fall between romantic and platonic attraction. something like Quoiromantic/wtf romantic (unable to distinguish between romantic and platonic attraction) or cupioromantic (aromantic, but still wanting or being interested in a romantic relationships) might be worth looking into. And it’s entirely possible to feel romantically attracted to women, but have more of a gray-romantic attraction to men.

As for identifying as straight, no matter what you figure out about your attraction and what it is, you don’t have to identify as straight if you don’t want to. Asexual is a non-straight orientation, and while some heteromantic aces prefer to identify as straight, others don’t and that’s totally fine too. It’s important to pick labels you’re comfortable with.

All the best, Anon!

squirreltastic  asked:

Psychology buddies honestly gives me life and I totally imagine that one time Jon called Harley up to help him spook some people with Coulrophobia during which I'm sure there was puns and word play around "between you, me and mr screamy in the corner this is a regular three ring circus" "I jest you not" "I'd ask you to stop clowning around but that's literally why I asked you to come"

You have the best ideas, I swear. This sounds like it could’ve been a plot for a BTAS episode. Imagine though, somewhere in a dark basemen in an unknown location, sits a man with an extreme fear of clowns. He’s tired up and terrified. A song plays in the distance, he can barely make out lyrics and yet–it seems to penetrate his brain.

Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle with you,

As the chorus plays, a man clad in burlap and his lovely harlequin assistant step out of the shadows. Time to play~!

anonymous asked:

How do I tell my whole class I'm trans and want to be called a different name and pronouns? I'm planning on telling them after the summer, but I'm not sure if I should tell everyone all at once or just let the news spread around

Could you make a class group chat on Facebook and do it? (If you’re on FB/have A lot of your class on it as friends)

But yeah having it spread around is a good option too! 😊

TalesFromTheFrontDesk: I have never been so happy to NOT be able to locate an item left in a room.

So, just got this call about a half hour ago…. L: “lady” Me:…me.

Me: herp derp thank you how can I help you and stuff?

L: Yes, I stayed there and I think I left an item in room 666(not real room number), could you check if it was turned in?

Me: Sure! Let me check in our lost and found. (checked lost and found, nothing for that room at all let alone today) Sorry, I’m not seeing anything from that room in lost and found. Could you tell me what the item was so I can contact housekeeping and see if maybe it got left on a cart by accident?

Lady: Ummm… it was a large, white massager.

Me: …Oh, ok, well we don’t have it in lost and found, but I will contact you if it pops up!

I looked at the system and….. we have a reservation set for that room today So I rand upstairs and checked the room thoroughly. In hindsight, I’m pretty sure that’s the kind of thing HK would throw away, anyway.

By: _Affexion_

anonymous asked:

I feel like Monty would call his gf "babe" "baby" and "baby girl" like all the time

Definitely agree on the “babe.” Not so sure about the “baby” and the “baby girl” but that could also just be due to my own personally preference??? Either way, he’d have pet names for his girlfriend up the wazoo and he’d use them all the time. Especially if they were embarrassing pet names.

anonymous asked:

I'm starting a support blog, inspired by you! May I ask what you use to make these beautiful messages and edits? I can only use phone, sadly.

You are so precious! I’m delighted I could inspire you to make a blog!

So, for my edits I use an app called Phonto. When you finish and save your image make sure to save it as a png so Tumblr won’t kill the quality of your edit!

So I think I found out who’s sending all the bears, but I don’t want to say who for certain until I’m sure, even though the divination was pretty straightforward and they got all the confirmation questions right. Two things are very clear however; 1) It is definitely not the Bear Spirit and 2) they are here to aid me in my spirit work (that’s what I’m calling it for now but it doesn’t really fit and I hesitate to call it seidr because I’m not certain the full scope of that practice but from what I know of it, it’s closer to what I mean, and it’s not like I could keep calling it my ‘trance-y not-really-shaman work’ now could I?)

That time my dog disappeared into Carrie Fisher's house

From reddit user: /u/AinsleyIscariot

Someone recommended I make a post out of a comment that I made elsewhere so here it is! True story and still cringe inside whenever I tell it.

One of the most awkward moments of my life was meeting Carrie. I live in London and walk my dog because he needs to shit every now and then- usually when I get back to my road I let him off the lead and he will run to the house. He will, that is, unless there is ANYTHING else of interest within a 1 mile radius of the house. One day he just ran straight through someone’s open door and I was there on the doorstep tentatively calling after him while I could hear him sprinting around the house. Then there’s lots of barking and I realise there’s another dog there and sure enough my dog comes sprinting out the house being chased by a small dog that seemingly wanted to play with him. Anyway this American woman comes to the door, hearing all the commotion and I make my apologies and we have the usual dog conversation. She then invited me in for a coffee, I thought why not and so we started chatting, and she explained she was renting the house for a month while she was in London. I asked what she did for a living and she told me movies, I asked “Anything I would know?” Slight pause “Star Wars?” “Oh right what did you do in it were you on the crew or an actress?” “An actress” “Oh great who did you play” “Princess Leia?” I swear to fuck I stood there with my mouth open, feeling as if I’d somehow just shat down my own throat. (This was before the franchise reboot so the image of her in my head was the Carrie Fisher in her twenties) She, however, thought it was really cute and laughed it off. Absolutely lovely woman with one crazy fucking dog named Gary.

TLDR: I had a twenty minute conversation with a woman who had been on the receiving end of my dog’s home invasion and didn’t realise it was Carrie Fisher until she told me.

Source:

https://www.reddit.com/r/StarWars/comments/6akd9r/that_time_my_dog_disappeared_into_carrie_fishers/

The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles… How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered… Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision…. 

“Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.” 

Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”… They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now. 

The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin–” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.” 

In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai–”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel.

In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

paladins and memes?
  • lance has every “[verb] in spanish” photo saved to his phone
  • pidge has every kermit photo saved to hers
  • “if i don’t make it out of here i want you to lead voltron”
  • shiro: “lance won’t come out of his room” pidge:”i got this” [deep breath] “WHAT TEAM” lance: [sprinting from his room] “WILDCATS”
  • lance added a shortcut to pidge’s phone so that it autocorrects “fuck u” to “(ง •̀_•́)ง”
  • lance rickrolls people at every opportunity
    • coran actually seems to like the song
  • lance: “can i borrow your laptop” pidge: [clearly typing] “i don’t have a computer”
  • hunk is moon moon
  • shiro: [shows up 10 minutes late with the space equivalent of starbucks] “what’d i miss”
  • coran: [softly, but with a lot of feeling] “what the quiznak”
  • shiro’s eyeliner is a meme
  • keith: “when people get too chummy with me i like to call them by the wrong name to let them know i don’t really care about them” pidge: “that’s a genius move” keith: “thank you” pidge: “you’re welcome… lester” keith: [silent pride]
  • keith likes coconut water
    • lance is appalled, hunk is amused
  • allura’s proposed solution to everything is “take a nap”
    • a 10,000 year long nap
  • shiro: “i could sure use a hot steamy cup of mental stability”
UH OH LOOKS LIKE WE’VE GOT A HYDRA FAN

andarthas-webreplied to your post:[Captain America (2011-2012) #1]“Got solid intel…

*facepalms* Painfully obvious none of you read the comics and are making snap judgements based on incomplete info. Also, you couldn’t tell a nazi from a fascist and a hero from a villain if your life depended on it….

Okay. Wow. I can’t believe we’re here. I’m savoring this moment hold on. Let me breathe it in. Let me just lap it up. I have to feel the grace of God come over me so I don’t school yo ass too hard. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh

Okay

Yup. First off, you…. commented on a screencap of me reading the comic. That I own. That I can take screencaps of. That is in my library. On Comixology. That I paid for. Since most of my library, y’know this one

pales in comparison to the one I’m used to having since I moved across the country and don’t have access to the accumulative collection of mine, my dad’s, and my sister’s. Y’know. The one that has comics dating back to first printings in the 60s. But whatever.

What do I have on Comixology at this point?

Oh right. 2634, most of which are trade collections. And that’s not counting the hundreds of issues I have in the archive because I’ve already used them on my comic book reference blog @renaramblesaboutcomics​. Y’know. Where I’m hosting my comic reviews and live reads I’ve been doing on tumblr since 2011.

But you’re riiiiiight. Maybe I don’t have the reference for Cap. Gosh darnit I’m just such a newb. What the fuck’s wrong with me, commenting on Cap comics I don’t know shit about.

Ohhhhhhhh right. I just own the whole fucking run you’re referring to. Right right. Not to mention I have read the Ultimate comics, the Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale Captain America: White, the Sam Wilson Cap comic before Spencer lost his goddamn mind, and a couple dozen more not to mention the Avengers comics I own, the Spider-Man guest appearances, the X-Men guest appearances, the guest appearances in Captain and Ms. Marvel books, and all those other comics that feature him.

My bad. Looks like you’re full of shit. And I’m an actual Cap Fan. Uh oh.

Looks like you’re in trouble.

But I have to close out with one more thing:

Okay I’ll stay away from the obvious answer which is that you…. apparently know that the National Socialist Movement in 1930s Germany was …. fascist. But that’s okay. (It’s actually not, it just shows you’re fucking ridiculous)

The thing is you’re accusing me of not being able to recognize either. So let me introduce you to someone I’m pretty sure knows Nazis when she sees them.

Hi. I’m Renaroo. I run this blog, also @renaramblesaboutcomics​. Along with being a lifetime comic book fan,the daughter of comic book fans, and the granddaughter of comic book fans, I’m something else that you would know if you wandered around my blog any:

I’m German-American. Specifically I’m only the second generation of Americans in my family. My family came over from post-Nazi Germany in 1950. Specifically I have to thank this little woman in the middle:

That’s my grandma. Actually she’s all of our Grandma – We’re now a family of Italian-German-Americans,l Mexican-Americans, Polish-German Americans, and (my sister and I) Appalachian-German-Americans.

My Grandma just turned 78 this year and in her lifetime she lived through, you guessed it, World War II and Nazi Germany. In fact, she lost her father in the war – my great-grandfather.

She was also as a young child mauled and attacked by an SS German police dog, which she has scars on her arms from. They’re next to the scars she got from her time as a welder in a metal shop in Akron, Ohio during the rubber boom, but that’s less relevant.

This 4′9″ woman has taught me many things over the years. She helped raise my sister and me. And some of things she, and my great-grandmother before she died at the age of 98, would talk to us about was living under a fascist dictatorship and how that place was called…

wait for it…

Nazi Germany.

So, yes. I know what Nazis are. I know what fascists are. If I didn’t, I could call up my comic book collecting dad who is also a history professor, and get him to explain it to us, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have to.

Why?

Because before slow roasting you over a fire, I guess I could’ve pointed out this. It’s sometimes hard to find so I don’t really blame you for not having read it yourself. I’m not an asshole comic book fan who lords that sort of thing over people

But here’s Captain America (1941-1950) #1:

[Captain America (1940-1941) #1]

Oh wow look it’’s Red Skull’s first appearance. What’s that he’s wearing on his chest? Why doesn’t he know he leads HYDRA? Not Nazis. That’s so weird I wonder what the two have in common…

P.S. @andarthas-web​, in case it’s not obviously apparent from the entirety of this post you enabled by trying smear shit on my original post: You’re a fucking idiot.

heartbreak chronicles {1} | M

 PT 1 | PT 2ONGOING

Contains: bad crack, smut {fuckboy!jimin}

Words: 10,164

Summary: Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.

[img cr]

A/N: I tried out a “lighter” writing style for… whatever this is. Hope you guys like it! | This fic is based on the movie “John Tucker must die” | SUB!BTS COLLAB

The girl’s request echoed on the warm air of your living room, dancing on silence as your body was covered in shock. For an instant, you truly believed you had misheard her words, replacing them for something much more unrealistic. Regardless, as the quietude fell like a blanket over the two of you, you noticed, at last, that your friend could not be more serious. “You want me to do what?” You finally asked, flabbergasted.

The night had started normally — and that was all that you could ever wish for. All that you wanted was to rest after an exhausting week, merely putting your your pajamas and watching shallow TV shows until your tiredness forced you to go to sleep. You wanted to get some pizza and gossip with your roommate about the most frivolous of subjects, allowing for the storm of stress and unfinished projects to disperse from around your head.

However, she had a different idea of how that night would unfold. “We want you to break his heart,” Lisa told you with utter serenity, as if the words that had left her mouth were no more than mundane. “Thought that was quite clear.”

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anonymous asked:

your Keith post gives me life !!! do you think you could do one for lance too ?

Sure can do! :D I could probably do one for every paladin tbh, I love them all so much. Anyway, here, have some of the reasons why I adore Lance:

  • is flirty
  • it’s a good flirty though??? he only ever compliments people, makes finger guns or talks himself up. nothing gross about it
  • used to sneak out of the garrison regularly
  • the most innocent laughter
  • does the eyebrow thing
  • is a good strategist and confident in his abilities!!
  • befriends people super fast
  • presumably can knit
  • feels insecure about what he contributes to the team despite being confident in his abilities
  • calls Blue “Beautiful” and is very happy with her
  • has the worst jokes
  • and even worser comebacks
  • loves his friends!!!!! so much!!!!!!! he brags about them to other people!!!
  • long limbs,,,,
  • always tries to diffuse tension
  • the more tense the situation, the more annoying he gets (probably in an attempt to distract people)
  • instantly becomes serious when the mission starts
  • is afraid of ghosts
  • can do A+ impressions of other people
  • moves his entire body while handling the controls for the fighting drones
  • he :3
  • knows the altean time measuring units and what they translate to
  • has absolutely no control over the volume and/or pitch of his voice
  • presumably has an exceptionally good relationship with his mom
  • s h a r p s h o o t e r
  • always gives new people the benefit of doubt
  • knows how to thread the needle
  • is bilingual
  • drapes himself across anything
  • is ambidextrous
  • has no understanding or interest in fancy words or math stuff
  • his first reaction to becoming a paladin and ‘protecting the universe’ was shock and fear
  • overlooks the most obvious things and is #shook when he finds out about them
  • is surprisingly analytical and knows how to read people
  • actively uses these skills on his friends - never against them of course, just to get to know them, calm them down or push them to overcome their fears
  • is the biggest dork
  • is afraid of dying
  • but did not hesitate even a second to save Coran from the bomb
  • he’s self-sacrificing that’s what he is
  • and homesick
  • is competitive to the point that he started a rivalry with Keith who barely even knew/remembered him
  • usually becomes useless around pretty girls until they open his eyes and screw him over
  • is so honest about his feelings in a private setting??? but only then
  • makes use of altean clothes
  • missed 10 days for a stomachache in 3rd grade that he never really had
  • is probably really good with kids and animals!!!!!
  • freaks out easily
  • randomly dances sometimes when he’s happy
  • was fully on board with collecting coins from a fountain because Pidge wanted that one video game that he couldn’t care less about
  • loves water!! and the ocean!!! is probably a really amazing swimmer!!!!
  • is the quickest to call shotgun
  • arguably has the best fashion sense
  • puns are good if he makes them,,, but only if he makes them
  • exaggerates most of his movements
  • food goo,,, face masks,,,,,
  • always wrecked the garrison simulator back on earth
  • confronts anyone - no matter how much he looks up to them or wants to impress them - if he thinks that irrational decisions are being made

CONCLUSION: Lance is a good kid!! I love him!!

[lance continuation] [keith] [keith now with additional meta improvement

heartbreak chronicles {2} | M

PT 1 | PT 2 ONGOING

Contains: smut, sexting {fuckboy!jimin}

Words: 5,764

Summary: Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.

[img cr]

A/N: Can you believe that I managed to come up with a quick update? Me neither.

Monotone, drowning in tedium — that was how your first Monday class begun. Somewhere deep inside your mind, you could hear your teacher going on about an empty subject, filling the air inside the classroom with disconex sentences and incomprehensible claims; your own perception far beyond the yellowed walls of that room. Perhaps, sitting on the last row was not helping your lack of focus; but, much to your personal bliss, Jennie was right next to you, taking the notes you would make sure to use later.

In all honesty, your mind was in the same location as before: the party. Equivalent to what unfolded during the weekend, the story repeated itself amidst your tired daydreams; dragging your consciousness towards the bubbling, divergent feelings inside your chest. Unlike what you first expected, the anguish and guilt of your acts did not last longer than the ride back to your dorm, instead morphing into a sense of curiosity. After all, there were so many details that you waited to be presented with — the second step, the collateral damage it would have on your friendship and, more than anything, Jimin’s reaction.

You just did not expect it would come that instant.

The cloudy preoccupations of your chaotic thoughts dissipated as a light buzz sounded below you, your phone lighting up with a new notification. With a frown, you stared down at the illuminated screen, eyes falling to the white text.

The second you read it, your heart skipped a beat.

[10:22] Jimin: we need to talk

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Redemption // Jeon Jungkook

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the prompt: Jungkook scenario when your pregnant unplan baby he finds the test when you get home he starts yelling, blaming you throwing things,tells you to gtfo of his life with the baby saying fucked up things. So you leave Korea 3 year later you come back with your daughter and you guys see each other again he tries to win you back angst beginning but fluff ending?

words: 8942

category: heavy angst + fluff ending

author note: it’s time to see how good destinee’s character development skills are. also y/n didn’t leave, jungkook did. hope that’s okay. im so proud of myself for writing this?? I didn’t give up and I’m glad i didn’t. anyway, this took forever to write you can literally see my writing improve as you keep reading its kind of funny anyway let’s go!

- destinee

Originally posted by sugutie

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Okay but listen, please, because Magnus calling Alec “shadowhunter” in that voice with all that affection, looking at him like that, was hot af but please fandom do not try to make it a thing that can go both ways. Because no matter how much Alec comes to love and respect Magnus, calling him “warlock” will never be an affectionate thing. There’s way too much racist weight to the way shadowhunters call downworlders by their specific race as if that’s all that defines them. And it’s just never going to be cute. Besides Alec really does love and respect Magnus too much to try to use that as any kind of pet name. He’s seen Magnus’ face when other people do it. He just wouldn’t.

Friends Part 1

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1947

Warnings: Fluffy and angst

Thank you @amrita31199 for beta this for me you are amazing 

credits to the gif owner

You never felt so inadequate in your life, when you left the house for one of Tony’s parties . You felt beautiful in your black strapless dress and high heels.  But as soon as you arrived at the party, you felt your heart being shattered.

You see Bucky with a beautiful blonde in his arms , when he sees you he comes in your direction kissing your cheek and pulling you to a hug “Don’t you look beautiful?” He says staring into your eyes, you smile at him with your best fake smile“Well I tried, apparently not as hard as your date.” You say sounding bitter even if that is the last thing you wanted to be or sound like.

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