the detonators

mbti types as buttons
  • ENFP: Those extra buttons that come with your clothes
  • INFP: Lost buttons
  • ENFJ: Buttons on the sleeves that allow you to roll them up.
  • INFJ: buttons that seem like they’re just for decoration, but you find out they have a purpose and are actually fucking cool
  • ENTP: Those buttons on the cuffs that you can never get with just one hand and then u have to ask for help.
  • INTP: buttons on a videogame controller
  • ENTJ: the top button on a collared shirt
  • INTJ: buttons that keep your pockets closed
  • ESFP: figurative buttons. Like in the phrase “pushing someone’s buttons”
  • ISFP: mismatched buttons on a hand-me-down jacket
  • ESTP: Buttons that you push, but don’t know what they do until it’s too late and you’ve destroyed something big.
  • ISTP: Buttons that detonate things
  • ESTJ: elevator buttons
  • ISTJ: on and off buttons
  • ESFJ: The button collection of a small child, who loves each and every one equally. (Except Diane. Diane the Button is a jerk).
  • ISFJ:  The buttons your mother keeps in a large pile, just in case someone loses one and it needs replacing.

Mountbatten usually holidayed at his summer home, Classiebawn Castle, in Mullaghmore, a small seaside village in County Sligo, Ireland. The village was only 12 miles (19 km) from the border with Northern Ireland and near an area known to be used as a cross-border refuge by IRA members

Mountbatten went lobster-potting and tuna fishing in his 30-foot (9.1 m) wooden boat, the Shadow V, which had been moored in the harbour at Mullaghmore. IRA member Thomas McMahon had slipped onto the unguarded boat that night and attached a radio-controlled bomb weighing 50 pounds (23 kg). When Mountbatten was aboard, just a few hundred yards from the shore, the bomb was detonated. The boat was destroyed by the force of the blast, and Mountbatten’s legs were almost blown off. Mountbatten, then aged 79, was pulled alive from the water by nearby fishermen, but died from his injuries before being brought to the shore. Also aboard the boat were his eldest daughter Patricia (Lady Brabourne), her husband John (Lord Brabourne), their twin sons Nicholas and Timothy Knatchbull, John’s mother Doreen (Baroness Brabourne), and Paul Maxwell, a young crew member from County Fermanagh. Nicholas (aged 14) and Paul (aged 15) were killed by the blast and the others were seriously injured. Baroness Brabourne (aged 83) died from her injuries the following day

On 5 September 1979 Lord Mountbatten received a ceremonial funeral at Westminster Abbey, which was attended by the Queen, the Royal Family and members of the European royal houses. Watched by thousands of people, the funeral procession, which started at Wellington Barracks, included representatives of all three British Armed Services, and military contingents from Burma, India, the United States, France and Canada. His coffin was drawn on a gun carriage by 118 Royal Navy ratings. During the televised service, the Prince of Wales read the lesson from Psalm 107. In an address, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Donald Coggan, highlighted his various achievements and his “lifelong devotion to the Royal Navy”.

Germans Use Flamethrowers at Hooge Crater

German flamethrowers in action.

July 30 1915, Hooge–Last week, the British detonated a large mine under the German trenches at Hooge, creating a huge crater and gaining them a small bit of ground.  The Germans planned a response with a new weapon of their own, the flamethrower.  They were able to intercept enemy radio messages, and were able to time their assault for immediately after a changeover of troops in the line, so that the troops opposing them would be fresh recruits (the first of Kitchener’s New Army) with little familiarity with the local terrain.  Lt. G.V. Carey recalled of the events of 29/30 July:

I remember having a strong presentiment as I plodded up to the line that night that I should never come back from it alive.  (In the event I was the only officer in my company to survive the next twenty-four hours.)  We had two or three miles to cover before we reached the line, with the delays inevitable to troops moving over strange ground in the dark, and the difficulty of getting into the broken-down trenches whil the 7th Battalion was getting out of them was even greater.  I remember feeling certain that the tramp of feet and the clatter of rifles must have given the show away.  I need not have worried – we knew afterwards that the Boche learned from more reliable sources when a relief was to take place!  There was very little shelling on the way up – for which we were duly thankful! – but the absence of snipers’ bullets as we filed up the communications trench from Zouave wood was more surprising, and the silence after we got into the line became uncanny.

About an hour after we were settled in and the last of the 7th Battalion had disappeared into the darkness I decided that a bomb or two lobbed over into the Boche trench running close to my own near the crater might disturb him if he were up to mischief.  So I got one of the bombers to throw over a hand-grenade which looked as if it carried about the right length.  It exploded well.  We waited.  No reply.  He went over two more.  'This ought to rouse them,’ we said.  But again, no reply.  There was something sinister about this.  It was now about half an hour before dawn and the order for the usual morning ‘stand-to’ came through from the Company commander.  I started on the extreme right of my bit of the line to ensure that all of my men were lining the trench with their swords fixed.  Working down gradually I decided to go on along the stretch of trench which bent back from the German line almost in the form of a communication trench.  There were servants and some odd men from my platoon in so-called 'shelters’ along there, and I wanted to make sure that these people who are apt to be forgotten at 'stand-to’ were all on the alert.  Just as I was getting to the last of these there was a sudden hissing sound, and a bright crimson glare over the crater turned the whole scene red.  As I looked I saw three or four distinct jets of flame, like a line of powerful fire-hoses spraying fire instead of water, shoot across my fire-trench.  For some moments I was utterly unable to think.  Then there was a terrific explosion and almost immediately afterwards one of my men with blood running down his face stumbled into me coming from the direction of the crater.  Then every noise under Heaven broke out!  There were trench mortars and bombs in our front trench, machine-guns firing, shrapnel falling over the communication trenches and over the open ground between us and the support line in Zouave Wood and high explosive shells all round the wood itself.

It was impossible to get up the trench towards the crater, so I got out of the trench to try to get a better idea of the situation.  The first thing I saw was men jumping over the edge of the crater in C Company’s trench and, deciding that they must be Boches, I told the few survivors of my platoon to open fire on them, which they promptly did.  But by this time the Boches were in my bit of trench as well, and we saw that my handful of men couldn’t possibly get back into it, and it was a death-trap to stay where we were under a shrapnel barrage.  MacAfee, our Company Commander, had rushed up for a hasty consultation, and he reluctantly gave the order for me to get the remnant of my platoon back to the support line.  About a dozen men of 2 Platoon were all that I could find, and we started back over the open (Those who had faced the flame attack were never seen again).

A retirement is a miserable business, but I have nothing but praise for the men in this one.  There was nothing approaching a run, and every few yards they lay down and fired at any Boches we could see coming over into our line.  There was a matter of four hundred yards of open ground to cover under a regular hail of machine-gun and shrapnel fire, and I’ve always marvelled how anyone got over it alive!  As it was, most of my fellows were wounded during that half-hour’s retirement, if not before. Eventually I literally fell into the main communication trench about twenty yards ahead of our support line.  It must have been then about half past four in the morning.

The Germans, while keeping up an extremely heavy bombardment, now consolidated their newly-won position.  The British ordered a counterattack for 2:45 PM, despite the fact that the battalion had basically been reduced to company strength by the flame attack.  The local brigadier strongly protested: “In my opinion situation precludes counter-attack by day.  Counter-attack would be into a re-entrant and would not succeed in face of enfilade fire.”  The counter-attack went forward anyway, and predictably failed; this was when Capt. MacAfee was killed.  Many blamed the British losses on the quality of the new recruits; wrote Major S.H. Cowan “the inference is that the whole blessed lot were caught half asleep, fell into a panic and ran.  A real bad show.”  However, this is a profoundly unfair criticism from those who were not facing the 75-foot jets of flame.

Today in 1914: Czar Nicholas II Orders Russian General Mobilization

Sources include: Lyn Macdonald, 1915; Winston Groom, A Storm in Flanders.

azzandra said: Yes! I wrote a post about Solas’s character development a while ago, and this scene is exactly what motivated me to write it. I do believe he undergoes character development, but we have to infer a lot of it because it’s not made explicit.

What a coincidence. I’ve been thinking about writing a post like that myself, focusing on the ways in which befriending him and not befriending him affects his character development and why that choice would be significant enough to end up in the Keep.

Also why that choice means Mythal did not kill Fen’Harel to possess his body.

It’s just really remarkable – you can do four major things:

  • If you rival him, you make him hate you and reinforce that he created a world without any value, which increases his guilt and his likelihood to become a loaded gun.You’ve essentially created an unhinged man who has nothing left to lose and has no attachments to stop him from detonating himself on you.
  • If you befriend him you can: A) Reinforce that he should be trying to value and keep the past sacred in every single meaningful way, and remind him that he has the strength to return the world to what it was (which just reinforces how guilty he actually was of everything in the first place).
  • B) Make Solas see that the modern world does have value, and that if he keeps trying, he’s bound to eventually succeed, even if there are negative consequences in the mean time. Your make him see the value in the people at large and actually absolve him of a bit of his guilt by reminding him of how complex any given situation is.
  • If you romance him, you have an added layer to either friend option A or B of making him really invested in the modern world and making it real to him by giving him a place there. He doesn’t feel alienated and disassociated from it any longer, something he is warring over at the end of the story and clearly influences his decision because it *changes his tarot card* – This is the ONLY thing that can change his card from The Tower, so I feel like it’s significant.

francmaconne asked:

Like many people from your tumblr, I'm totally devasted by the #18 issue. Sam is my fav chara, my special snowflake. Rhi Pratchett just gathered fandom in one place and detonated the HUGE NUCLEAR BOMB in the middle. The plot wasn't just "sad" or sth, it was DISRESPECTFUL to whole bond Lara and Sam were strenghtening during entire game, comics and their lives and it TOTALLY DIDN'T MAKE SENSE. Sam is possesed, in prison, self-harming and Lara's just "nah, her choice, let's write down memories'.

Well expressed. The whole Lara hardly even mentioning the self-harm stuff was… wow.

Honestly they could redeem that for me by making it clear Lara is repressing her real emotions and making her have a huge emotional breakdown in ROTTR when she realises how disconnected her and Sam have been. I’m worried, though :(

Love so explosive

When other people are in the room with us they can feel it.
The big elephant in the room.
God forbid we make eye contact because that would detonate the grenade containing the self control that holds us all together, but keeps us apart.
Crazy how everyone would be fine with it, we’re the only ones scared shitless of what may come from this…

Should I do a following spree? I'm doing a following spree!

If you are a fan of the following, like/reblog and I’ll give you a follow:

  • Zach Rance
  • Frankie Grande
  • Zankie
  • Derrick Levasseur
  • Cody Calafiore
  • The Detonators
  • Donny Thompson
  • Big Brother in general
  • Teen Wolf
  • Dylan O'Brien
  • The Fosters
  • Brallie
  • Jude Adams-Foster
  • Jude and Connor

Zach saying “If I was gay” is the equivalent to “No homo”

“I would marry you and suck your penis, if I was gay.”

“I would marry you and suck your penis, no homo.”


“If I was gay I would totally have sex with you and live together and have kids with you”

“No homo, but I would totally have sex with you and live together and have kids with you”

You see how much crazier it sounds with “No Homo”? zach is literally saying the same exact thing just in a different phrase.