the airspace

my aesthetic is alex danvers looking like she wanted to throttle mon-el for havign the audacity to even breathe in the same airspace as her when he spoke to her

(a soft kimberly and trini fic) (6.4 k)

i drowned myself (in your holy water)”


If you ask Kimberly, it started at dawn.

She finds Trini at the quarry before sunrise, face tilted against the pearly gray sky, poised at the crest of jagged rock. She is a masterpiece in silhouette, harsh edges smoothed by cool shadow, baggy pants hanging low on curvy hips.

“Hey,” Kimberly says, voice low, hesitant to disturb the quiet. “Been here long?”

Trini turns toward her, shedding shadow as she steps off the ridge. Her face is suddenly cast in the first rays of morning light, dew catching crystal bright on the toes of chunky, repurposed army boots.

“Just since six,” Trini answers shrugging. “You’re right on time.” She reaches Kimberly all at once, stretching out to tug at the hem of Kimberly’s sweatshirt. “Pink. Cute.”

Kimberly reaches out to box at Trini’s ears, a yellow beanie pulled low over her forehead. “I could say the same thing.”

Trini blocks her halfway there, catching at her wrist with careful fingers, pulling her hand close against her chest. “Watch it, Hart.”

Kimberly would say it started here: with her hand against Trini’s collarbone and Trini’s lips curled into that small, just so smile. Though the landscape is a portraiture in charcoal, a gray sky sweeping low over the horizon, ashen quarry rock stretching to meet it, Trini is a marvel of color.

Keep reading

Basics for the Wards: Reading a Chest X Ray

Chest X-rays (aka CXR) are one of the most basic imaging studies done in medicine. Almost every hospitalized patient has one and you will see hundreds of them by the time you finish med school.

But it was be super easy to get distracted by the huge glaring pathology (like a giant mass) that you miss other pathology (like a broken clavicle). So, like with reading EKGs, it’s best to have an algorithm you run through for every CXR so you don’t miss anything.

Disclaimer: Again, this is just a general introduction with some basics to help you start out on wards. There is a lot more to interpreting chest x-rays that what I mention, that is why radiologists are awesome.

First: What is the view- is it AP (front to back) or PA (back to front)? Lateral CXRs are obvious.

PA

AP



If the patient is able to stand, a PA view is generally preferred. AP is generally when patients are confined to the bed- also you usually cannot diagnose cardiomegaly from an AP view because the heart is almost always bigger in this view. How do you tell the difference between them? Look at the scapula- in a PA view the scapula are usually clear of the lungs, whereas in an AP view the two generally overlap. Sometimes the clavicle positioning can be a good clue too- see the differences between the two?

Lateral

Second- what is the quality, because that can have a major effect on your interpretation. A good mnemonic is RIP.

- Rotation - Measure the distance of each clavicle from the spinous processes at that level, if they are equidistant then the patient is not rotated.

- Inspiration - If you can count nine posterior ribs within the lung fields before you reach the diaphragm, then there was enough inspiratory effort. Poor inspiratory effort will look like the patient has an airspace disease.
Note: Posterior ribs = more apparent, look more horizontal. Anterior ribs = less visible, 45ish degree angle towards feet

- Penetration - With flawless penetration, you should be able to see the thoracic spine through the heart.

Underpenetration= Left hemidiaphragm and left lung base will not be visible, and pulmonary markings will appear more prominent than they actually are. Ahhhh!!!!

Overpenetration= what is even happening here

OK, now you’re ready to see what is going on with the patient. I suggest the systematic approach, which has the handy mnemonic ABCDE= airway, bones, cardiac, diaphragm, everything else (lungs). I’m not going to go into all the pathology associated with everything, because that would take forever.

- Airway: Is the trachea patent and midline? Can you see the mainstem bronchi and the carina? If there is an endotracheal tube in place, make sure that it is 3-4 cm above the carina. Also check to make sure the mediastinum is not deviated or abnormally wide.

- Bones: Is anything broken or dislocated? Any lytic lesions? 

- Cardiac: How clear is the cardiac silhouette? Is the heart enlarged? What about all the vessels- the aorta, SVC, IVC, etc. 

- Diaphragm: Is the right side higher than the left but not like wayyyy too much? Are the costophrenic angles clear (if not, could be an effusion!)? 

- Everything else: NOW you can look at the lungs. Is there an infiltrate or a mass? What about pneumothorax? Also check for you friendly neighborhood gastric air bubble, it’s supposed to be below the diaphragm. 

Easy enough, right? Good luck! 

Devotion

Jasper Hale imagine requested by anon. “hi! could you do a jasper fic where the cullens all leave for a hunting trip to lo-key give jaz and y/n some alone time in the house? like theyve been dating for months and jasper and y/n make love for the first time and shes super nervous because shes a virgin and its super tender and sweet? thanks!” Hope you like it!

WARNING: SMUT

Your parents were under the assumption that you and your boyfriend’s twin sister were spending the weekend in her adopted parents’ home while the Cullen boys went camping on Mt. Rainier; as innocent a gathering as could be expected. In their eyes, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about; their daughter was spending time with a respectable family, under the watchful eye of the doctor’s lovely wife Esme, surrounded by her charming boyfriend’s female sibling… only the camping trip wasn’t as exclusive as you had let on, and you would instead be spending time at the Cullen residence with Jasper. He had come to escort you to his home, dressed to the nines in the best hiking gear money could buy, shaking your father’s hand with a polite smile before leading you into the passenger seat of the silver Volvo he had borrowed from his brother. It may have been suggested that his brother’s car was a safer option than his motorcycle, and with the understanding that you preferred your father didn’t collapse into cardiac arrest, Jasper had agreed to sacrifice his preferred mode of transportation for the unassuming vehicle you now found yourself within. Jasper slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat, bidding your parents goodnight before settling in beside you, sealing the normalcy of the world away with the hushed suction of a closing door. It wasn’t long before the delectable scent of him flooded your airspace, perfuming your world with hints of lavender and sandalwood, intoxicating you with the sheer beauty of his presence. His eyes remained glued on the rear-view mirror as he backed out of your driveway, exhibiting proper driving technique while in your parents’ line of sight, proceeding down your street for at least a minute before his hand found yours between the seats, the chill of his skin soothing the worry from your brow. The entirety of his family was as far north as Canada on a hunting trip. You and Jasper would be completely alone.

“Hey, relax, darlin’. It’s just me,” he whispered, his butterscotch eyes finding yours within the dimly-lit cabin of the Volvo, his features illuminated by the neon of the dashboard instruments. He had no need to look at the road; his peripheral vision was just as attentive as his eyes were on you, and his reflexes quicker than anything that could possibly present as an obstacle in front of your vehicle. His thumb traced circles against the backside of your hand, massaging the stress from your body, if not your mind. Sure, it was just him. He couldn’t have stated the sole reason behind the surges of anxiety that flooded your body any simpler than that; it was just him, and just you, alone together for an entire weekend. It was a major advance in your relationship, and he was a poster child for collected calm, as if tonight were no different than any other. You ducked your head, squeezing his hand lightly, marveling momentarily at the give of his alabaster skin… so hard, yet so soft. You wondered, briefly, how the rest of him might feel… You straightened your thoughts, tidying the corners of your mind until every last straying image was safely swept into order, thanking your lucky stars that Jasper wasn’t the family’s mind reader. Jasper didn’t ask what had you so wrought with tension; you had a good idea he knew, but was far too polite to voice his suspicions, a perfect Southern gentleman to the very end. Instead, his mind flooded through the stagnant air and into yours, warming your limbs in waves as a feather-light cloak of ease hushed over your body, his eyes fighting to coax yours out of hiding before he settled for merely gazing in your direction. “I love you,” he promised, his whisper low and aflame with the heat of his truth, the tenor of his voice ringing with honesty as his eyes burnt twin holes in your temple. You lifted your gaze to his, losing yourself briefly in the honey of his stare, his smile eliciting your own as he turned the steering wheel, his grip so certain, so sure, his eyes only leaving yours for a moment. When the hypnosis of his eyes was broken, you redirected your eyes to stare aimlessly out the window, watching the cedars pass in blurred patches of emerald darkened and diluted by the ink of the night.

“I’m okay, Jasper. You don’t have to… calm me down,” you chuckled, your laugh almost foreign to your own ears, speaking to the reflection of his eyes mirrored in the glare the utilities projected onto the glass of the window. “I’m good, really. Thank you, though, for offering. You’re a sweetheart.” Jasper’s brow lifted in disbelief, hearing the confident lie roll from between your lips on the back of a wave of compromising emotion, your unease as plain to him as your voice was clear. You rolled your eyes, smirking as you tightened your hold on his hand. “Alright, I’m a little upset that Rose won’t be joining us. You’ve caught me.” Jasper let loose a quiet laugh, his lips thin as he fought the urge to bend to your humour, his mind still obviously distracted by your physical discomfort. Even if he were unable to taste the tone of your emotions, he would have heard the stammer of your heart as it frantically sought an escape route through the spaces between your ribs. He shook his head a fraction, as if to align his thoughts, his palm spreading over your knee, gently smoothing over your denim with a more human breed of comfort, leaving your reasoning to stand alone, no prodding or inquiries involved. You watched the forest flash by, your heart thrumming in your chest like the wings of a hummingbird, your pulse skyrocketing as Jasper pulled into the extended driveway leading to the Cullen household. He sighed to hear so obvious a sign of distress, his lips pressed into a fine line when you turned to address the sound, his eyes concerned as he analyzed the winding path through the thick of the forest. You were silent when the car pulled up before the intimidating house, your hands clasped in your lap as Jasper removed the keys from the ignition, quieting the engine and enhancing the leaden stillness that surrounded the two of you. He exhaled deeply, turning in his seat until he was facing you straight-on, his hands reaching for yours, the smooth marble of his skin sparking against you, adrenaline coursing through your veins like venom.

“Y/n, would you please let me help you?” he asked, his voice pleading and sincere, you met his eye, smiling halfheartedly, your cheeks burning with the flow of blood that rushed to warm your face. His brow knotted with helpless worry, his eyes bright with the extent of his agitation to see you so restless. “At least tell me why you’re so nervous?” he pleaded, his palm covering your own, sending thrills roiling through to settle in the pit of your stomach, your body warm beneath his comparably frigid touch. You shrugged, searching for words polite enough, innocent enough, harmless enough that you wouldn’t end up offending or causing any confusion. Jasper’s hand extending toward your face, cradling your cheek in the silken palm of his hand, his thumb working over your cheekbone, brushing just beneath your eye. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can tell me anything, darlin’, it’s part of the package. Trust me, there’s nothing you could say that would drive me away, nothing you could say that’d… wound me. I’m virtually indestructible, remember?” you giggled then, surprised at the tremor in your voice, your eyes watering just slightly, your cheeks burning brighter as you became aware of the sensation. Jasper’s hand remained on your cheek, his fingers coaxing an answer from your lips, or perhaps your mind, his eyes anxiously awaiting your reply. You felt the air rush from your lungs, your brain resolving to spill your fear at his feet before your body could revert to your more primal instincts and reject your intention.

“I’m just…” you paused briefly, your heart seizing in your chest, prompting Jasper to respond with a much-needed surge of calm. You cleared your throat then, your eyes finding his in the dark. “Thanks. I’m just… I know what this is about.” Your words hung in the air, speaking volumes while saying so little. Jasper’s jaw clenched visibly, catching the intention behind your blanketed statement, his hand moving downward to rest against your neck, your pulse racing beneath his palm, his skin tantalizing yours. He didn’t make any move to speak, or to leave the vehicle, awaiting further explanation despite his clear understanding. “I mean, I guess it’s just… we’re alone, Jasper. Truly alone, and I…” your voice trailed off, your eyes melting into his, the tides of borrowed calm lapping at your feet as Jasper lent you the ease to continue. “I’ve never done this before.” Realization flickered behind his eyes for the briefest moment before quickly, professionally, he returned to his previous standing, his features open and curious. “I’m just nervous, is all.” Jasper grinned sympathetically, his eyes dancing on yours.

“Terrified, it feels like.” You lowered your gaze, embarrassed, only to find Jasper’s index finger at your chin, lifting you back to meet his eyes, his features soft and gentle. “We’re not going to do anything you aren’t prepared to do, you have my word as a gentleman. It’s enough for me just to spend time with you, no time constraints, no prying eyes, no interruptions. I’m in this for you, Y/n, and nothing else. I love you. If you want to go slow, we’ll go slow. We can crawl forward, for all I care, so long as we’re together. I am perfectly content with whatever you choose to do.” You smiled, thankful, leaning toward him to close the space between you, your lips pressing against his. He returned the tender affection you offered to him, his lips molding to fit yours perfectly, his hand winding through your hair, holding you as delicately as if you were made of glass, separating only when the car’s headlights clicked off from lack of movement. “You ready? To head inside, I mean?” You giggled, nodding your confirmation to his double-edged inquiry, your heart leaping in your chest when he disappeared from his seat, your door opening swiftly at your side. Within a single breath, he had lifted you from the seat, holding you in his arms like a newlywed bride, kicking the door closed before walking as easily as if he were unburdened towards your house, abandoning your overnight bag in the backseat. You laughed aloud at his pageantry, his eyes rolling at your reaction. “It seemed appropriate, Miss, to walk you over the threshold. I’m attempting romance; don’t go injuring my ego.” He continued forward, smirking when you mumbled pointedly about his claim of indestructibility. He strode over the polished floorboards, pressing a kiss to your hairline when you clung to his shoulders after he set you on the couch. You wrapped your arms around his neck, refusing to release your grip as he moved to stand, your heart racing as he playfully fell on top of you, bent by your iron strength. His lips pressed against your throat, his honey hair sweeping against your cheek as he wrestled with your human weakness, contorting until you were cradled in his arms, his eyes glowing warmly behind the thick fringe of his eyelashes. He paused, then, noticing for the first time the subtle shift in your emotions. “What…?” he began, your lips pressing to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m…” you began, your voice feeble and weak, your fingers threading through the golden strands of his hair, his eyelids fluttering at your touch, searching yours for answers you had yet to properly advocate. You returned his open stare, your hands trembling as they cupped his cheeks, your thumbs stammering over his cheekbones. “Jasper…” His breathing was shallower, quicker, his lips parting as he prepared to speak.

“I thought you were…” you inhaled the scent of him, so much stronger now that you were all but pressed against each other, watching him come to his conclusions. “You said you were nervous? You’re still nervous, I can… I can feel it, but…” his voice trailed off, his head shaking once between your hands. “Y/n,” he breathed, your name an oath on his lips. “Do you want this?” Your cheeks burned under his stare, your heart thrumming with a strength you hadn’t imagined possible, your head nodding when you found your voice had failed you. Jasper swallowed then, his voice producing a soft, sensuous tone, blossoming into the silence instead of interrupting it. “You’re sure?” You nodded once more, pressing your lips to his as you finally spoke your reply.

“Yes.” He moved against you as you had never known him to move, his tongue darting over your lip with a slow, sugared patience, his arms wrapping securely beneath you before he moved to stand, hoisting you once more into his arms, his lips never parting from yours. His body was marble-hard beneath your hands as he ghosted up the stairway, moving with inhuman speed to the sanctity of his bedroom. He laid you atop his sheets, resting your head against his pillows, moving to hover over you in the same movement, his weight suspended above you. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertip lingering on your jaw, his eyes lavishing you as if you were the most precious stone, or perhaps an idol forgotten by all but him. He waited for your approval, his eyes watching yours, a delightfully warm sense of calm licking at the soles of your feet when your nerves tightened in your stomach. “There’s no need. I’m okay.” He arched his brow, his influence retracting as you stroked his cheek, your touch tender as you worshiped his flesh. “I love you, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips repeating your vow as he descended on your lips.

“I love you.” He melted against you, his every muscle, every inch of his skin pressing against your body, his fingers working the fabric from your waist, parting from his kiss to remove your garment completely. You shied away from his gaze for the span of a minute, opening once again when he had removed his own shirt, his hands tentatively caressing the skin at the bottom of your rib cage. “So beautiful…” he whispered, his lips lowering to press slow, honeyed kiss to your abdomen. Your hands instinctively tangled in his hair as his hands worked the button of your jeans, undoing your pants and working them from your legs, leaving you bare before him in your undergarments. His hands found your hips, then, lifting you from the sheets until you were pressed against his chest. Your fingertips trailed curiously down the center of his chest, reaching lower and lower until you discovered the waistline of his jeans. His breath caught with your own when, surprising the both of you, your hand wandered further south, brushing timidly against the bulge his pants concealed. His eyes met yours then, blurred by the relative darkness, boring holes into your very soul. He was still in your arms, moving only when you did, your hand shifting along the coarse denim as you traveled upward to unbutton his pants. His chest expanded beautifully, his lips crashing against yours, moving swiftly to the line of your jaw, marking you with fervent kisses. You worked the button loose, and Jasper was standing by the bed, kicking his pants off entirely before crawling above you, his hand ghosting over the cup of your bra. You thrilled at the contact, arching your back to make the process of unhooking the garment easier. You wriggled free of your straps, watching Jasper’s eyes devour the sight of your uncovered chest, his hands moving with a patient slowness to cup your breast in the palm of his hand. Your breath rushed from your lungs, Jasper’s eyes flitting to your face, your lips parted in bliss. He smiled, then, before his fingers were working beneath the waistband of your underwear, slipping the fabric down your legs until it no longer clung to your body. He pulled you once more into a kneeling position, his eyes hungry on yours.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your nerves alight with naked electricity as Jasper knelt before you, removing the last piece of clothing that masked the full glory of his chiseled body, his eyes never leaving your face as he worked himself free of his underwear, his erection uncovered, the both of you bare before each other. You inched toward him instinctively, his body reacting in a similar fashion, his hands closing around your waist as he dissolved the distance between you. His palms stroked your hips as his lips found yours, his passion translating fluidly from his mouth to yours, his hands clinging to your back as he settled you back against the pillows, his body arching over yours. Your hands moved to tangle once more in his hair, stopping suddenly in their path as Jasper’s hand caught your wrist, his eyes on yours as he kissed the tips of your fingers. You pressed on, your hands at the nape of his neck, his eyelids closed in bliss as your lips found the muscle of his shoulder, a small sound of pleasure escaping from between his lips. He hovered over you, straightening moments later, his hands parting your legs with gentle precision. He nestled himself between your thighs, his eyes never once leaving your burning face, his hands massaging the creases of your hips. You nodded, almost desperately, reaching to pull his body back over yours as he prodded against your entrance. Your mouth opened at the carnal contact, your cheeks warm with the fire of your blood as Jasper eased himself inside of you, his eyes burning with a heat you didn’t know him capable of as he shifted his hips, working himself deep within you. He moved slowly then, until he stilled, his lips at your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek before speaking your name. Your fingers clung to his back, urging him forward.

He obliged, thrusting deep within you, his movements subtle and captivating, his every shudder sending you gasping for breath where none existed. He rolled his hips, his lips on your neck, your hands grasping for a holding on his shoulders. He moved slowly, patiently, enjoying and allowing you to enjoy every sensitive inch of him inside you, his hand moving to grasp your hip as he thrust within you. He rolled sideways, lifting you with his movement until you rested on top of him, his arms propelling him to a seated position, his hands deftly re-positioning your legs until they wrapped more securely around his waist. His eyes, heavy-lidded, were locked on yours like a magnet as he lifted your hips and lowered you onto him, your breath rushing from your lungs, carrying his name on a low moan. He smiled, pressing his joy to your collarbone as be repeated the movement, your voice producing sound without formulating words. Jasper’s movements became faster, though never rushed or hurried, his hands grasping your hips with a tender security, his breathing laboured as your body began to tremble. Your mind was clouded, the pulses of his hips meeting your own sending deafening waves of pleasure through your body, concentrated at the meeting of your bodies. Your mouth was open over a wordless cry as you clung to all you could, holding his gaze with the will of one desperate for salvation, your breathless whisper of his name the last conscious sound you made before you collapsed against his chest, your body humming with ecstasy. He shuddered beneath you, thrusting through his high, his hands smoothing over the curve of your spine before he stilled within you, his head tipping backwards. You lifted your face from his shoulder, resting your forehead against his, catching your breath together, your fingers tracing the lines of his cheekbones. He smiled, breathless with love, his hands cradling your cheeks to bring your lips to his, punctuating the night with the sweetness of a kiss.

He held you as you both collapsed to the sheets, your legs tangled blissfully, your cheek resting on the firm muscle of his chest. He reached blindly for his bed sheets, covering what he could of your body before resting fully against the pillows. You traced the lines of his chest, your heart calming as your breath regained stability. Jasper’s fingers toyed absentmindedly with strands of your hair, his quiet breathing lulling you to sleep, your bodies melted together as evidence of your devotion, safe in the comfort of his loving arms.

A lone, single-engine Cessna airplane enters restricted airspace. The pilot ignores air traffic control, so the plane stays on course. That’s when the F-16 fighter jet shows up outside the window with a warning call that blares over the radio: “You’ve been intercepted.”

This is what happened during a training exercise recorded by the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, and conducted by the Civil Air Patrol and the Colorado Air National Guard.

If Trump Is Traveling And A Pilot Strays, Fighter Jets Will Follow

Photo by Master Sergeant Mark W. Fortin/U.S. Air Force

About all our favourite Ryden LJ fics

Okay so we know Putin is SUPER against gay shit, he even has concentration camps so thats a big problem. Big problem number 2?

ALL OF LJ’S SERVERS ARE IN RUSSIAN AIRSPACE LJ IS OWNED BY RUSSIA

AND LJ recently updated its terms and conditions, here’s the important stuff:


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  • the user may not: perform any other actions contradictory to the laws of the Russian Federation and/or any other applicable laws, including those applicable in the jurisdiction of User’s residence.
  • The Administration may at its own discretion and without User’s prior notice supplement, reduce or otherwise modify any Service function and it’ procedures.
  • You’re held liable if you break any law

I know this is probably me overreacting but I want everyone to know

SAVE YOUR FAVOURITE FICS JUST INCASE AND REUPLOAD ANY FIC YOU’VE POSTED TO LJ TO A PLACE LIKE A03.

Because Russia also owns any info you gave to LJ and wont give it back.

STAY SAFE EVERYONE

Welcome to Night Vale

Year One

(concerning the rips in reality and Huntokar)

1 - Pilot

  • A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Night Vale Elementary gymnasium… before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again. This time, apparently, for good. (obviously, current problem with the rips in reality)
  • Lights. Seen in the sky above the Arby’s…we’ve caught on to their game. We understand the “lights above Arby’s” game.Invaders from another world.Ladies and gentlemen, the future is here, and it’s about 100 feet above the Arby’s.
  • (also noteworthy - a bowling ball once fell into Mini Vale. Poor town probably got wrecked.)

2 - Glowcloud

  • Sorry, listeners. Not sure what happened in that earlier section of the broadcast – as in I actually don’t remember what happened. Tried to play back the tapes, but they’re all blank, and smell faintly of vanilla. (we know that some of cecil’s memories that he doesn’t remember are in fact from AUs but i’m not sure with this one, especially with the vanilla thing - i don’t think it was ever resolved? or was it the man in the tan jacket or somethin)

3 - Station Management

  • Our little town is lit, too, by lights just above that we cannot explain. 
  • Larry Leroy, out on the edge of town, reported that a Creeping Fear came into Night Vale today…  It did not affect Old Woman Josie, presumably because of her angelic protection … I myself was frozen, sure that any movement would lead to death; that any word would be my last.

4 - PTA Meeting

  • …a rift in space-time split open in the Main Street Recreation Center Auditorium, setting loose several confused and physically aggressive pteranodons. 
  • Several curious handball players in the court next to the auditorium actually popped their heads into the portal… aged several thousand years in what bystanders experienced as only a few seconds. Those handball players now straddle the unenviable border of millennially wizened and cripplingly insane. (i wonder if they know something about the recent reality rips?)
  • either prehistoric or alternate-universe Night Vale.
  • The creature’s lifeless body was found a dozen yards outside of the Dog Park entrance, stripped of all flesh, and with most of the organs inverted and strung around its exposed skull like an old fashioned soft meat crowns, as worn by the 18th century religious leaders who settled our fair burgh.
  • (iunno, might be huntokar? i mean what would tear a thing to shreds and make soft meat crowns out of its organs)

5 - The Shape in Grove Park

  • The moon’s weird though, right? It’s there, and there, and then suddenly it’s not. And it seems to be pretty far up. It is watching us? If not, what is it watching instead? Is there something more interesting than us? Hey, watch us moon! We may not always be the best show in the universe, but we try. (obviously, echoed by Mini Vale in The Missing Sky)

6 - The Drawbridge

  • [after a blackout] ….when the lights came back on, they felt that perhaps they were different people – their memories and identities were the same as always, but suddenly felt like costumes that didn’t fit exactly. As though it all were actually brand new to them. As though they had been switched out with someone who was exactly like them. As though all that was familiar would ever after be strange. 

7 - History Week

  • [prediction for year 2052:]  The City Council will reveal its true form and eat half of Night Vale’s population
  • Approval ratings for the mayor will hover in the low 40s…which will be surprising, as there will have been no mayor for over thirty years.
  • (ummm i dunno how long mayors are supposed to reign in Night Vale, but by 2022, there will be no more mayor? dana’s term started in 2015, so in 7 years there will no longer be a mayor. even if this has nothing to do with year 5 yet, i’m still worried)

8 - The Lights in Radon Canyon

  • [referring to Mini Vale] …every window of the city is now glowing both day and night. 
  • (the beginning of the Night Vale - Mini Vale war, i’m guessing. teddy williams started it or…?)
  • (also the lights in the canyon itself)

9 - PYRAMID

  • [message of the Pyramid:] “I will place within some of you questions. Within others, I will place answers. These questions and these answers will not always align. The questions I provide may have no answers, and the answers I provide may have no questions. I will study the effects of these questions, and these answers. Some of you will hurt others, and others will heal. Grow my seeds inside you, and let them flower.” 
  • (??????? I WANT TO BE GIVEN ANSWERS DUDE)

11 - Wheat and Wheat By-Products

  • idk if Apache Tracker suddenly turning Native American is reality-rip-worthy but
  • …Angels have gathered in a circle in her living room, blocking her view of the television. They are shoulder-to-shoulder, facing each other, radiant with holy light.“The Bowling Alley,” they are chanting. “The Bowling Alley.“

12 - The Candidate

  • the unholy voice of Old Scratch himself (idk who Old Scratch is but might be noteworthy)
  • [referring to noisy sunsets]… only Old Town residents have reported hearing these inconceivable noises

13 - A Story About You

  • …a vision came to you. You saw above you a planet, of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. 
  • (note: You did NOT LIVE IN NIGHT VALE when they got this vision. They then drove to Night Vale afterwards, and even then found the town by accident)
  • You move wooden crates from one truck to another while a man in a suit silently watches. It is a different man each time. Sometimes the crates tick. Mostly, they do not.
  • [about the crate]  It’s warm, warmer than the air around it. It smells sharp and earthy, like freshly ground cinnamon. And when you put your ear against the rough warm wood, you hear a soft humming – an indistinct melody.
  • (while driving, You feels the Dark Planet Lit By No Sun again)
  • Apache Tracker’s warnings: 
    1 - You are in danger. 2 - They’re coming. 3-  They will come from below. Pies will not help.
  • (the crate has grown even warmer)
  • [about crate]  It pulses with some kind of life.
  • …pulls out of it an intricate miniature house…inside the house you think you see for a moment, lights and movement.
  • [about DPLBNS]: A monster. Spinning. Soundless. Forgotten. It’s so close now. You see it just above you. Maybe even if you tried very hard, you could touch it.

14 - The Man in the Tan Jacket

  • (first mention of Huntokar)
  • (assumption of a Child King ruling Mini Vale, but this is probably wrong….or very right. toss up)
  • (also, Teddy records footage from Mini Vale)
  • …the Angel said that the Man in the Tan Jacket with the deerskin suitcase was from a place underneath the earth.
  • (I AM GOING TO START SCREAMING)
  • (IS MINI VALE KING CITY??? IS KING CITY MINI VALE???? IS THIS WHY MITTJ WAS ABLE TO FIND NIGHT VALE BECAUSE HE WAS FROM AN ALTERNATE VERSION IN THE FIRST PLACE?)

16 - The Phone Call

  • (SSP telling everyone to prep for war, presumably against Mini Vale)
  • (also we are presented The List)

18 - The Traveler

  • (time traveler who wears a Desert Bluffs marching band uniform [which has not been worn since The Incident - presumably Strexcorp takeover; see Triptych] who presumably saved Night Vale many times before?)
  • Perhaps he has leaped again through the stream of time, or passed to an alternate dimension created by the changes he has made to our world.
  • nothing remained of The Traveler except for a pile of indescribable buttons from his uniform

19A and B (Night Vale and Desert Bluffs)

  • (larry leroy possibly already knew about doubles pre-sandstorm, but you know this probably isn’t relevant to year five)
  • (a vortex opened, leading cecil to DB and kevin to NV; i have no idea if the vortex was sanstorm-created or reality-rip thing. most likely a reality-rip thing because kevin has travelled to NV via vortex several times, and there was no sandstorm - see The Debate and The Investigators)

21 - A Memory of Europe

  • (Teddy Williams has created a 24/7 barricade around the entrance to Mini Vale)
  • I don’t remember having a traveling partner before or after Svitz. Who was he? Who knows? It all seemed perfectly normal at the time. (obviously not his brother Cal from 108; alt reality bleed or…?)
  • Eventually I was knocked out on one of our falls and when I awoke, it was in a different country. I had aged by years, and no one I talked to knew where the country of Svitz was, or even had heard of it. (def alt reality or something)
  • [Simone Rigadeau]:  The world ended three or four decades ago.  I don’t know what this thing is that we’re living in, but it’s not the world. Scientists won’t investigate it because they’re not real.
  • (LISTEN TO ME)
  • (IN EVERY ALTERNATE REALITY WE HAVE BEEN PRESENTED, THERE IS NO CARLOS AND THERE ARE NO SCIENTISTS)
  • (’SCIENTISTS ARE NOT REAL’)
  • (there’s a monster in Franchia)

24 - The Mayor

  • (Mini Vale residents presumably made the Desert Flower Boeling Alley’s jukebox continuously play Mister Brownstone. this ep has an ad for the Brownstone spire)

25 - One Year Later

  • (hhhgngngnpppffttt remember when cecil got carlos a trophy)
  • a commercial airliner appeared today inside the home of surprised Night Vale citizen Becky Canterbury
  • (i mean there’s so many things from this ep but basically, Mini Vale already was plotting a war against us and Teddy had set up a barricade against it; after this i guess Mini Vale just got full-scale destroyed, i think)
Captain’s Vigilante (7/?)

Word Count: 3500ish

Warnings: This one is shorter than the others. I apologize for that, there has been some problems. This is just a filler, like an update on what’s currently going on. But I will make up for it the next chapters to come. Thank you for reading.~~~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You are a genius vigilante, misunderstood, feared and on top of the Avengers watch list. They see you as a major threat and has to be stopped. They’ve no idea you only have the best of intention but just has no idea how to express it a better way. And you like the reputation they gave you. It’s what you’re used to so you play with it. After yet another visit to the Avengers tower and being caught and then being shot. Things take a turn for you both when Steve seemed to break those walls and get to know the real you.

A/N: I just wanna remind everyone that this is going to be full length. I can only write slowburns so yea. this may have 20 or something. just putting that out!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 Part 8

Masterlist

Originally posted by theavengers


“I could’ve sworn this was a two person mission.” Natasha murmured to herself  as she scanned over the files they were given. They were just at a briefing and were handed newfound missions.

Steve found himself silently wishing it was his.

“It’s for you, Steve,” Nat handed the file to him. He bit the inside of his cheek, to stop the corner of his mouth from turning up. Of course it is. [Y/N], wouldn’t have it another way.

This deal of theirs evolved into a habit. For the past 3 months, Steve will be needed for about 2-4 days twice or trice a month. It was always an over the top mission but somehow it only needed the captain. If someone in the team is required to accompany him then just by chance, a mission will be assigned to that person thus leaving the captain on his own accords.

Steve slowly felt that he would be waiting for the said specified mission for him. Even though [Y/N] never credited herself for it, Steve knew that it was her. He was always placed on solo missions that would be too easy even with just him and then before he goes home way earlier than stated, he gets a message from [Y/N] that he’s needed. That much coincidence wasn’t just pure… coincidence.


“What mission are we going now?” Steve asked worriedly, removing the jacket he wore. He got a text message with only the words: ‘urgent mission. come as soon as you’ve seen this.’ With only those words, he speeded towards the place, using his motorcycle. 

“You’re in for a treat, captain.” [Y/N] walked towards him, a small cylindrical object in hand with her usual smirk. “I have a special job just for you.” 

She shoved the object to his hands before going back to her work space, leaving him confused. “It’s called ‘hold the flashlight while I fix the thing’.” 

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Why Come From Away Deserves to Win the Tony for Best Musical

Jet fuel can’t melt steel beams. Bush did 9/11.

Right, got that off my chest. Anyway, are you tired of hearing the same accounts of 9/11? We all know the stories of worst terrorist attack in US history that, for the first time, closed the US airspace and forever marked a nation (and especially the city of New York) with the fear of terrorism, muslims, and anyone from the middle east. These stories are all too often one-sided and seldom bring anything new to the discussion, but Come From Away dares to change that. Come From Away tells the story of a small town in Newfoundland, Canada where 38 planes were forced to land after the attack on the Twin Towers. Here’s is why this touching, intimate musical deserves to get that spinny coin.

We’ll begin with the visuals. Ordinarily this is where I might talk about the set, but…well, Come From Away doesn’t have a set. The show relies on creative use of chairs rearranged throughout the show to represent everything from planes to a bar. The results are a sort of trunk show that allows the audience to fill in the spaces with fantastic success. The focus in this show is not about what you see, but about what you discover. This is where the casting is important. The show is full of people of color, including a gay couple, an African family, and a muslim from the middle east (which, as you can imagine leads to conflict in the story). This diversity lends to the most important message of the show, which is to slow down from life and learn how to see the people around you as just that, people. We may have differences, but we are all human, and to quote President Barack Obama, “Despite our differences, we all share the same title: Citizen.” (though, to be fair this story takes place over two nations so…)

The music is less of a series of songs and more of a shifting melody as we pass from chapter to chapter. This medley works splendidly for the show as contrasting sounds blend into one another from one moment into the next, each feeling like its trying to tell its own story just as the characters do. The show features primarily folk styled music but it relies on quite a bit of a capella and harmonization from the ensemble, leading to every number feeling strong and supported by the entire cast, especially Screech In and 28 Hours/Wherever We Are. Even with this though, the orchestrations are clever, novel, and brilliantly written. The stunning vocals of the individual cast, especially Jenn Colella, help drive the messages home to the audiences, so that soon you’re laughing, crying, afraid, and inspired right alongside the characters.

On that note, the writing for the show is very cute but . It’s hard to know whether this show is for adults, like you would expect from a show about 9/11, or more for families. Certainly the story is one with lessons for everyone. I think one character’s really stands out as representing the central messages of the show, a man who was born a Polish Jew during the outbreak of WWII. He talks about how he was raised to be afraid of telling anyone of his ethnicity/religion, but in seeing all of the stories coming out amidst the catastrophe, he had to tell someone about his past and he learns to embrace his differences. In staying in Gander against their wills, the come-from-aways learn more about themselves, and in providing for these strangers the Newfoundlanders in turn discover something in themselves. Most important of all though, the audience discovers something about themselves.

Come From Away is a different sort of 9/11 story, and you often forget it’s even centered around the twin towers at all. Ultimately it is a musical about all of us, trying to go about our lives without taking the time to listen to other people, and what happens when we are forced to do so. It is a touching story, one that made me cry repeatedly the first time I listened to it,  and I’m sure it will hold a very special place in my heart, and the hearts of many other people for many years. It’s even more special because the show is base don real events. Overall, Come From Away is a very special, heart-warming show that fully deserves to be recognized as the best musical this year.


Great Comet          Groundhog Day           Dear Evan Hansen

And don’t even tell me that chemtrails aren’t real they certainly are. I’m lucky to have my orgone energy crystal which keeps my airspace clear.

linkslittlehelper  asked:

Pls I need more to that gency pregnancy GENJI YOU ARE THE FATHER

aaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHOKAY

The Orca arrived at roughly 5 AM about a day and a half later. Mercy could usually sleep through the sound of the Orca entering the Watchpoint’s airspace, but as soon as she heard the whir of the turbines she was up and out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweats and her robe and hurrying out in bare feet onto the Watchpoint’s tarmac. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sunrise as the orca touched down and opened up. Tracer and Ana were the first ones out. Tracer saluted and Ana nodded to her, both with a visible weariness as they made their way over to either dining hall for breakfast or the dormitories for another couple hours of sleep that weren’t uncomfortably tucked around the Orca. McCree followed after with a yawn and a tip of his hat to her, going toward the dormitories himself. Then out came Reinhardt and Torbjörn, Reinhardt out of his armor and rolling his shoulders with multiple pops and cracks as Torbjörn muttered about tweaking some turret designs in a half-asleep haze. They greeted her politely enough as they walked past. Mercy paused and there was a brief feeling of dread that gripped her insides until she calmed herself, mentally reminding herself that if anything happened, someone would have said something.

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Your Fave is Problematic: Colonel Volgin

  • dirty fucking commie
  • weeaboo (kuwabara who says that shit)
  • lightning man????
  • commie
  • ugly as fuck
  • wears skintight rubber clothes
  • grabs people’s balls w/out consent
  • nukes people w/out consent
  • plots to overthrow kruschev w/out consent

Problematic Level: VIOLATING MY FREEDOM. AND AMERICAN AIRSPACE

Bruce (@rabbruad1) wrote:

‘Elle was just sitting there blowing off steam. So I brought her a wand and a bottle of bubbles. Now, she’s forgotten her troubles, and is blowing off bubbles.’


I blew bubbles and flew them with grace to the Hubble Space telescope place, but there was trouble when a bubble embraced the face stubble of Dr Hubble, then the trouble redoubled when the bubbles laced the scope with a post-bubble paste rubble. In disgrace, I was chased back to earth’s airspace, and the case will be placed in a BBC special based on the Hubble Double Bubble Space Stubble Trouble.

Winter’s Confession (Jimin/Reader)

Prompt: “omg y'all. i’ve been trying to think of a request all day but i couldn’t come up with A N Y T H I N G. So, this request is pretty basic, but i figured i’d contribute :P How about a Jimin angst where he and the reader have been best friends for a while and she’s in love with him. He finds out somehow (she was hiding it & never planned on telling him) and for some reason he gets really pissed about it and just starts treating her like crap. You can make everything up (I’m runnin outta letters LOL)”

Genre: Angst/”Fluff” - One Shot.

Words: 4,012.

Author: Admin X/Daegu.

Summary:  His eyes spiritually intoxicated your soul with their magnetic gaze, illuminated, juxtaposed colours dancing around in his astral irises as he laughed the same silvery laugh that seemed to drown you in its enticing song.

Disclaimer: Lee Ji-heun is actually IU’s name, I don’t have anything against her though!

Originally posted by sugaa

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anonymous asked:

Perhaps gency #20? (Apologies for the double ask, I sent the last one before I was finished typing haha)

Let’s do some Pre-Fall of Overwatch featuring Genji-who-is-angry-and-has-not-yet-undergone-character-development featuring Young!McCree-who-still-has-both-arms!

Genji folded his arms in the front seat of the car as McCree frowned over the engine. He couldn’t really tell what he was doing to the engine with the hood up, but Genji figured McCree knew what he was doing more than he would. Mercy sat in the driver’s seat looking over a map and he realized he had never seen her in civilian clothes or out of a labcoat or scrubs before. Reyes and Morrison’s instructions were for them to keep a low profile, which Genji couldn’t really do in a cybernetic exoskeleton. They were mostly running on the hope that people would simply take him for an omnic. 

“This is a waste of time,” muttered Genji.

Mercy glanced up from the map. “You keep going on about taking the fight to the Shimada clan,” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

“It would be better to strike at the heart,” he said, looking out the window at the desert, “The Shimada clan conducts many weapons and drug deals with numerous criminal organizations around the world. It conducts these deals in order to keep them in line. One petty motorcycle gang—”

“Deadlock ain’t just one petty motorcycle gang,” said McCree from outside the car, “It’s an organization with an iron grip on the whole southwest, and it’s lookin’ to expand. It might just be the Shimada clan’s way of keeping them in line, but this weapons deal goes through and we’re all in a helluva lot more trouble,” he tweaked at something under the car’s hood. “All right, try turning it over.”

Mercy turned the key and the car rumbled to life. McCree shut the hood and threw his hands up, “Hallelujah,” he said with a grin as he made his way around the car again, “Scoot das boot, Doc. My turn to drive.”

“You do realize you’ve just said ‘Scoot the boat,’ right?” said Mercy, still looking at the map, “And it’s not my fault your car broke down.”

“I realize this is a joint Blackwatch-Overwatch operation, which means yours truly’s in charge,” said McCree, thrusting a thumb at his chest with a grin before putting his hands on his hips, “Now come on, scooch.”

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Come From Away joins Broadway's 'million dollar club'

The musical Come From Away has joined Broadway’s prestigious “million dollar club,” after hitting $1 million in ticket sales in a week.

According to Playbill Magazine, the show grossed $1,087,151 last week.

In the hyper-competitive world of Broadway, most shows close before they reach the million-dollar milestone.

Come From Away, which opened in March, has a $12 million production pricetag, but looks like it may now be one of the highest-grossing shows in New York.

This benchmark puts Come From Away in the same company as Wicked, Hamilton and The Lion King.

The musical, based on the hospitality Gander and surrounding Newfoundland towns showed airline passengers after North American airspace was closed because of the 9/11 attacks, started selling out after strong reviews from the New York Times.

A visit from Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, Sophie Gregoire Trudeau and their guest Ivanka Trump also gave ticket sales a boost.

Come From Away is expected to snag Tony Award nominations when contenders are announced on May 2.

The average cost for a Come From Away ticket is now $127.