waiting areas

storytime

ugh so I was thinking about how last year I was at a ski area alone waiting for my dad to pick me up when this dude sat down RIGHT next to me. he kept asking me for my name and where I lived and when I said I was 15 and to leave me alone he just kept telling me how pretty I was for my age and the only thing that got him to leave me alone was when he asked me who I was texting I said my dad and that he was going to pick me up in a couple mins (which was a lie he was going to be another half an hour) he imediatly left…. this happened in broad daylight with many other people around…


I just wanted to remind any girl that sees this that if you are in a similar situation saying that a male family member is about to pick you up will get them to hopefully leave.


also I litterally thought of this because right now im waiting after school to be picked up and an old dude is staring at me.


also I hate men

6

Arashi 🌸🍃✨
6D00-001F-9A13
@mayor-aby

jalapeno--business  asked:

So whenever I read trc, I'm always overwhelmed by this almost pathological desire to experience the same feelings of wonder and beauty and magic that you describe in the series. Yes, I understand that there is no sentient, magical forest to discover, and no sleeping king that I can search for, but I still have this urge to have similar feelings and experiences in my life. So how do you experience a similar kind of magic and wonder that you describe in your books, in everyday life?

Dear jalapeno–business,

Are you listening closely?

As an author, I travel a lot. At one point, I was on the road one day out of every three — planes, hotels, rental cars. There’s a rhythm to it, like running up a very long flight of stairs. You figure out how many stairs you can take in a jump, and how to breathe-in-breathe-out to keep from wasting your lungs, and you learn how to tell when you have to stop to rest your knees or you just won’t make it to the top. 

The airports and the planes and the people can all start to seem the same after awhile, if you’re looking at them wrong. If you let them. Anything in life can sound ordinary if that’s all you’re listening for.

Back in 2014, I was in a Texas airport. The night had that glittering senseless jitter to it that happens when you’re tired but going home, finally going home. I was early for my flight and sitting several gates away from my real gate, listening to music. A young man sat down two seats away. Ordinarily, tired and occupied with the peculiar every-day magic of the music in my headphones, I wouldn’t have noticed him, but a moment later, a phone rang. He asked if it was mine; it wasn’t. Someone had forgotten it on the seat between us. 

We both looked at it.

It rang again for someone who didn’t know to pick up, and then he took it away to one of the United desks for them to give it to someone who would listen. He didn’t return.

Two hours later, I went to my real gate to board. Full flight. Everyone was checking and double-checking their seat assignments as they defended their right to aisles and windows. When my seatmate settled himself next to me, I looked up, and it was the guy from the waiting area. He had a tilt to his chin that telegraphed that he thought he was hot shit and a grin that said he recognized me. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

We laughed ruefully and applied our headphones — we both knew the routine of polite air travel. But the agreeable tingle of the coincidence still ate at me, and I could tell it ate at him, too, because after a few moments, he offered me a truffle from his bag. I told him I couldn’t take it because of my allergies, but the headphones came off. We started to talk.

And he was a big talker. He was cocky. A surgical resident. He told me how he loved the hell out of taking internal organs out of people. He described how he listened to sixty-minute epic soundtracks in his ear buds while he removed appendixes and gallbladders, kidneys and stones. He told me of watching Dateline by himself at the end of seventy and eighty hour work weeks, and he told me about his Hyundai, which I made fun of. Confidentially, he whispered to me about a surgeon he knew who had the goal of removing every gallbladder in Texas. Two hours into the flight, the conversation tilted toward spirituality. He’s hot shit, he confessed, and works hard, but he sometimes wonders if he’s allowed to want to be successful, or if that makes him a bad person. Because he’s working a lot of hours in a week, and he’s tired, but he’s pretty sure that he’s hot shit, but maybe that’s not allowed.

I was watching him fumble his fingers over each other. He was scratching a hole in his own palm.

And all at once there was a phone in my head, and it was ringing just for me. 

“One of your parents has obsessive-compulsive disorder,” I told him. “Maybe both.”

The shimmering grin slipped. “How did you know? How could you know that?” 

I asked him if he was getting treatment for it.

He said, “No, no, I’m over it. How could you know that?”

Because in a foggy way, that phone was still ringing between us, and now, I recognized the number.

I said, “Don’t kill yourself.”

He replied, “No way,” and then he started to cry. 

The shit-eating grin had vanished. He told me how he’d made up his mind that he didn’t want to make it to 35. He’d researched all the ways to make sure he didn’t. Over the next hour, I told him about my OCD, and how I thought his uncertainty over wanting to be successful but also wanting to be humble was a function of his OCD’s spiritual obsession. That he wasn’t over OCD, that you never were, but that his agony didn’t have to be a real thing. He could be both humble and successful. It wasn’t against the rules of goodness to be proud of what you’d done, as long as you were doing things for the right reasons. I told him how once I bought a race car, but I’d given it away to someone who could use the money, because I realized I was only racing to look sexy in a car, and not because it was really making me happy. 

I told him he didn’t have to worry about looking sexy in a Hyundai, though, and he replied that he would look sexy in anything, and then he cried a little more. 

Everyone else in the plane was asleep, but we were wide awake.

When we got off the plane in Virginia, the surgical resident gave me an awkward side-hug, and he wiped his face. Then he dug in his bag for the wrapper from his truffle. As the other travelers shuffled past us sleepily, he pressed it into my hand. He didn’t want to give me his name, he said, but he wanted something for me to remember so that when we ran into each other again in 15 years, I’d know who he was.

After we’d parted ways, I turned my phone off airplane mode, and a text came in that had been sent while I was in the air. It was from the person I’d given the race car to. I hadn’t heard from him in nearly six months. The text said only: thank u maggie i have such a hppy life bc of u

Magic.

You have to be listening closely. Phones are ringing all over the world, and sometimes they look like magical forests, and sometimes they look like race cars, and sometimes they look like surgical residents.

urs,

Stiefvater

the signs as ppl i saw at the airport at 4 am
  • Aries: the pilot that had a bottle of pepsi and a bottle of coke in his hands and looked at both for a long while before buying them both, mixing them into the same cup, and downing the whole cup in one swing.
  • Taurus: the old guy who accidentally threw his phone in the trash and got his two year old granddaughter to dig it out of the trash
  • Gemini: the guy across the waiting area from me that bought a whole bag of black licorice and poured it in his mouth
  • Cancer: the lady that has spider earrings in February
  • Leo: the obvious just-married couple that started making out aggressively in starbucks
  • Virgo: the guy trimming his nose hairs in the bathroom
  • Libra: the guy whose flight got delayed by and hour and he just kinda. collapsed into a chair and he looked like he was about to sob.
  • Scorpio: the very nice lady that asked me how old i was and how highschool was and offered me a cookie from her purse. it was stale and had a bite taken out of it.
  • Sagittarius: this 5 year old girl that was wearing five jackets while her parents wore shorts
  • Capricorn: that guy in gate 69 who would dab every time someone said "69" over the intercom
  • Aquarius: this girl talking on the phone to her husband and trying to explain how to make a perfect eyeliner wing
  • Pisces: the guy who obviously lost his luggage and was wearing a too-small powderpuff girl shirt and bags under his eyes.
Cute Bus Stop Guy

Sterek, Teen, 2K words, Meet Cute AU


Stiles groaned and took a very long swig from his travel coffee mug as he hitched his messenger bag up higher on his shoulder. It was barely eight in the morning, and consequently, he could barely keep his eyes open. He was a grad student for fuck’s sake, and it was understood that in order to make up for the shitty stipend and the whole working-around-the-clock thing, he got to sleep in until 10. At least. After all, if he was up until 3 working, it was only fair. But noooo, his advisor—fuck you, Finstock—had insisted on an early meeting today.

He passed the bus stop and realized that at least he was lucky in that he lived close enough to campus that he could walk instead of dealing with public transportation at rush hour. Small condolences, really, though.

He yawned and accidentally bumped into someone walking past him. Stiles tried to apologize, but the word got stuck in his throat when he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the person he’d nearly knocked over. He was about Stiles’ height but bigger, all broad shoulders and muscles capped off by really great hair and an unfairly attractive face. “Uh.”

The guy gave him a curt little nod and neatly sidestepped him, continuing on his way. Stiles snuck a look over his shoulder, and yep, the rear view in those tight slacks was pretty good, too. The guy stopped at the bus stop, leaning against the sign, and Stiles sighed. It was a dreamy sigh, even he could admit that.

He had a feeling he was going to become a morning person.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

CHALLENGE: post the most ''embarrassing'', ''self-indulgent'' thing you've made in the past moth! (that's not smut, if you're embarrassed about that!) (but it could be smut) (pleasebemucklespleasebemuckles)

HAHAHA OH MY GOD 

WELL OKAY I NEVER RUN SHORT OF EMBARRASSING SELF-INDULGENT STUFF.      SO.  I was thinking about Motorcity and Disney movies and I saw Atlantis on Hulu or Netflix or something and I was like……………………

………………………shit…………

I’m going to go lie on the floor how dare you make me do this GOD

Accidental Flirting

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 950

Warnings: Spider-Man: Homecoming spoilers!!

Summary: You’re working at your dad’s deli shop, just like any other day after school, when a certain boy walks in and strikes up an interesting conversation with your father.

A/N: I love this so much, it was so much fun to write!! Part 2??? Yes, no, maybe so?


It was like any other day for you. After school, you dropped your books off at your apartment and grabbed a quick snack before heading down the block to the deli. Seeing as your dad was the owner, you were kind of obligated to help out there when you had free time. You didn’t mind, though, working the register wasn’t really all that bad. You were just lucky that you didn’t have to be the one actually making the sandwiches.

Today, in particular, you had completed most of your homework in study hall, so you weren’t worried about rushing home to finish it. It was still early in the afternoon, though, so the small shop was still empty. You were seated on the stool behind the counter, scrolling through your phone and keeping one earbud out so you could listen for the familiar ring of the door when a customer walked in.

After about fifteen minutes of doing this, you eventually grew extremely bored. Placing your phone down on the counter and pulling out the single earbud, you turned to your dad, who was busy stocking shelves. “Is there anything I can do? This is boring.” You complained, standing up.

Your dad shook his head slowly, chuckling, before picking up one of the cardboard boxes and shoving it towards you. “Here, chica, go help in the back. Put these away, you know where they go.”

Nodding contently with the moderately heavy box in your arms, you turned on your heel and walked into the back area of the store. Just as you entered, you heard the ding of the doorbell. Figures, as soon as you leave, a customer comes in.

Placing the box down, you began taking the packages of condiments and utensils out. From the main area, you were able to hear the conversation happening between your dad and the person. You recognized the second voice as belonging to none other than Peter Parker. He was in your grade, and you shared a few classes, but you’d never really had a solid conversation. He was a regular customer here, though.

Tuning most of it out, you quickly put the items in their respective containers. You only started listening intently when you could hear your father start speaking in Spanish.

“Ella es una mujer italiana bellísima.” You heard him say, visibly cringing at how strange the sentence sounded. Wondering who on earth he could possibly be talking about, you knew for sure it wasn’t your own mother, you stopped restocking and headed back out into the main area.

“¿Y cómo está tu hija, eh?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, but you’d made it far enough out into the room that you could see who the voice belonged to. And damn, he looked cute today. Peter was wearing a light blue sweater with a collar popping out of the top. His brown hair curled around his ears, and his dark brown eyes crinkled up at the sides as he lightly laughed.

A million thoughts were running through your head. He hadn’t even noticed you were there, he couldn’t have been talking about you. He did know that you were your father’s daughter, though, right?

Before you could tell yourself otherwise, using a sudden wave of confidence that had washed over you at the sight of how good he looked, you stepped further into view of the two of them. “Hmm, estoy bien, ¿y tú?”

The words flew out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, but for some reason saying them aloud gave you even more confidence. You met Peter’s eyes as you said them, and watched as a deep crimson blush arose on his pale cheeks. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to respond. Peter opened his mouth to say something, but your dad came rushing over to you and gave you a stern look.

“(Y/N), don’t you have shelves to be restocking? Off you go, adiós.” He shook his head, placing his hand on your shoulder and guiding you to the back area.

“Wait, Peter didn’t answer my question!” Smirking, you squirmed out of his grasp and walked behind the counter, now even closer to the incredibly flustered boy.

He was a mumbling, incoherent mess. It gave you a funny feeling in your stomach, knowing that you made him so nervous. This was the literal smartest kid in your whole grade, and here he was, tripping over his words just because you had flirted back at him.

Peter cleared his throat, placing the sandwich and bag of candy on the register in front of you along with a ten dollar bill. You put his stuff into a plastic bag, before putting the money in the register and carefully counting out his change.

When you handed the few singles and coins back to him, your hands brushed against each other. It was only for a split second, but it was enough for both of you to now be blushing. Peter’s eyes widened, before shoving the money into the pocket of his jeans and grabbing the bag of food. He was on his way out, you watching as you bit your lip to hide a smile.

Pushing open the door, he was almost fully out of the store before he turned around and looked at you. “I’m great, actually. I mean, my crush just totally flirted with me, so of course I’m good.”

Your jaw dropped, face flushing an even brighter shade of red before the door clanged shut behind him and Peter was gone.


Part Two!!!

anonymous asked:

What's your favorite recipe?

not combat rations, thats for sure. ive had enough of those for a lifetime. 

but my latest food hit has been pretzel bites. pretzels are an awesome food but rarely available fresh when i want to eat them, which is usually when i’ve woken up in the middle of the night. they’re relatively labor-intensive to make, which is good once the insomnia sets in. keeps me busy. plus, pretzels are sweet on the inside, salty on the outside, just like me. except im also salty on the inside. dont listen to steve.

when i make pretzels, it’s by the metric ton, so the recipe i have makes approximately a million of them.probably you will not want this many, because you don’t have thor or steve to help you eat them. or clint. probably you could just shove some into a vaccum cleaner instead, thatd be about the same. so divide the recipe in half or quarters for normal human consumption. take 11 cups of flour, 1 cup of brown sugar, ½ cup of oil and mix. 4 cups of warm water gets 11 teaspoons of yeast and sits for a bit, then goes in the flour mix. then mix it and let it rise for about an hour. the dough should be sticky to the touch and absolutely awful to get out of your metal fingers. while you wait, wander your living area for some poor sucker to rope into helping you, because stage 2 is easier with help. or you can sit down and wonder why you talk yourself into doing things like this. consider your choices. it’s already too late to go back to sleep; youve got dough rising.

get a deep fry pan or sauce pan and fill with about two inches of water. bring it to a rolling boil on the stove and add in three or so tablespoons of baking soda. you really can’t do too much of that, as long as the water’s not getting super cloudy. preheat the oven to 400 degrees. wake steve up and tell him he has to help. 

get a couple egg yolks in a bowl with a basting brush, and find some kosher salt or sea salt. grease up a few pans. 

flour a surface and roll the dough out until it’s between ½ and ¼ in thick. get your poor unsuspecting minion to cut out bite sized bits. i use an inch and a half circle cookie cutter, but you can use whatever you want, really. tony used a laser cutter last time i let him help, which was…not ideal.

drop the cut outs into the boiling soda water, and let them sit for a few seconds, then fish them out. you can use your robot hand for that, but again, you’ll be getting dough out of it for days. i let them drip dry on a cookie drying sheet, but you could also drop them on a clean dishtowel i guess. you just dont want them to be wet when you put them on the cookie sheet. 

they’re not gonna expand a ton, so just stuff em up close to each other on the sheet. paint the tops with egg yolks and sprinkle with salt. pop em in the oven for 10-15 min or until golden brown. 

repeat the boiling-and-baking until you want to die, then keep going until you run out of dough. while the last batch is baking, take a half a stick of butter, a quarter cup of flour and make a roux in a saucepan. add two cups of milk and two cups of cheddar cheese, some salt and pepper to taste, and a quarter cup of mustard, give or take. im showing you how much to use with my hands but you cant see it. sorry, i dont really measure stuff most of the time. heat and stir till it’s melty and amazing, and dip pretzels on in there. 

by the time you have completed this process and eaten as many pretzel bites as you want–and there will be enough. it’s a dang big recipe–you will want to enter a food coma and sleep forever. or for 70 years or so.

there. insomnia fixed.

glassslippers-and-tinywhiskers  asked:

Could you discuss delayed desexing and the alternatives like an ovary sparing procedure? It seems clear that in breeds like the GSD it benefits their health, but do we know much in regard to smaller breeds? (I know this topic can be controversial so if you'd prefer not to delve into it, or already have I understand) Also I've been loving the breed posts, thank you for taking the time to write them up!

I don’t at all mind discussing the topic when everyone remains civil about it. It’s very interesting and an aspect of veterinary medicine that’s bound to change as we gather more information. I’m happy to discuss it as long as all participants refrain from making personal insults.

It’s a long discussion folks. I’d grab a cuppa tea if that’s your thing. Also, unfortunately I can’t hide it under a ‘read more’ because it’s an answer to an ask, and Tumblr will eat the hidden part if I do. I will try to make it look pretty if you’re not interested.

Traditionally in dogs we have performed desexing (spey) by performing an ovariohysterrectomy, removing both ovaries and the uterus. Some alternatives have been suggested including tubal ligation, hysterectomy (removing only the uterus), ovariectomy (removing only the ovaries) or doing nothing. This is good. Science as a process should periodically review data, question the knowledge base and make recommendations based on new research. Otherwise it’s just dogma.

I don’t think you can claim that it is ‘clear’ that leaving the ovaries benefits the health of breeds like the GSD. The practice is still controversial at best, with some veterinarians outright labeling it at malpractice. There is some breed variability in terms of what relative benefits and risks might be expected, but I really wouldn’t call it ‘clear’.

Originally posted by wolfyoubemyvalentine

Before I talk about various cancer risks, let’s talk about relative risks of non-cancerous conditions.

With an ovariohysterectomy (traditional spey)that is properly performed, there is zero risk of pyometra. Stump pyo can occur if remnants of the uterus or ovaries are left behind. Cruciate tears are affected by multiple factors, but desexed dogs seem more prone to them than entire dogs. Weight gain and obesity is more common in desexed dogs.

The relative risk of pyometra in non-desexed dogs is about 25%. Risks typically increase with age.

With an ovary sparing spey (hysterectomy), only the uterus is removed. Pregnancy is prevented. Pyometra can still occur if any uterine or cervix tissue remains (a stump pyo). With the apparent influence of oestrogen, these dogs may be less at risk of cruciate disease and are less at risk of obesity.

With an ovariectomy, only the ovaries are removed. This renders the dog infertile and removes the influence of oestrogen. The uterus will atrophy and shrink down without stimulation from female hormones, rendering the risk of pyometra basically zero. It may still increase the risk of obesity and cruciate disease like the traditional spey.

Considering that pyometra is often lethal, while cruciate disease is painful but treatable, personally I would err on the side of preventing pyometra. Also keep in mind that obesity in dogs can be moderated with owner control of the diet, and obesity will predispose to cruciate injury. I would recommend removing at least the ovaries.

Male dogs have less surgical options. Vasectomy can be considered, but these dogs are basically entire but infertile.

An entire male dog is more at risk of perineal hernia, benign prostatic hyperplasia, perianal adenoma and inter-male aggression. A castrated male dog is relatively more at risk of, again, obesity, cruciate ligament disease, and possibly diabetes.

With the information above, and I haven’t brought cancers into the equation yet, you might wonder of preventing obesity in desexed dogs might reduce the incidence of cruciate disease and subsequently other conditions that we know are more common in obese dogs, namely cruciate ligament disease and diabetes. You might conclude that there is little benefit to leaving a dog entire if you’re able to control its weight.

I think that’s a reasonable assumption so far, though it’s clear to me that the benefits of traditional desexing are more pronounced in females.

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

Now lets talk about cancers.

There are multiple types of cancer. Some are more devastating than others. Some are more common than others. In terms of highly malignant cancers that show up relatively commonly in dogs, the ones we talk most about, and of most interest in this topic, are mammary cancer, haemangiosarcoma (HSARC), Mast Cell Tumor (MCT) and osteosarcoma (OSC).

  • Mammary cancer is extremely common in entire female dogs. In European countries where prophylactic desexing is not routinely performed mammary tumours make up 50-70% of all cancers seen. They are relatively rare in countries with a high desexing rate but extremely predictable in dogs desexed late in life or not at all. Speying earlier appears more protective compared to being left entire: speying before the first heat reduces risk to 0.05%, before second heat to 8%, and before 3rd heat to 26%. after the third heat there is negligible reduction in risk of mammary cancer compared to intact dogs.
  • Osteosarcoma may be three times (3x) more common in desexed large breed dogs.
  • Mast Cell Tumors maybe up to three times (3x) more common in desexed dogs of certain breeds. Lymphoma may be up to 10% more common in desexed dogs of certain breeds.
  • Haemangiosarcoma may be more common in neutered dogs of some breeds, but less common in neutered dogs of other breeds.

There isn’t much consensus across ALL dog breeds in ALL situations. There are numerous retrospective studies, and more coming out all the time (Science!) but more data needs to be analysed.

What is fairly clear is that there is a dramatic reduction in otherwise common mammary cancers by early desexing of females. There is probably some benefit in reducing other cancer risks to later desexng, or not desexing, dogs also.

So do you? Or don’t you?

There’s certainly more incentive to desex female dogs, as even pyometra on its own is a sneaky, life threatening condition. I recommend desexing most female dogs in their senior years if they haven’t already been done for this reason alone.

Assuming you do chose to desex, and I’m talking about procedures that involve at least removal of the gonads, it becomes a matter of when. If you don’t remove the ovaries then you have no benefits from desexing other than infertility. There’s no significant benefit in leaving the ovaries compared to leaving the dog entire.

For a small dog, OSC is incredibly rare. HSARC is rare. MCT can happen to anything. We weight up those relatively low risks compared to the very high risk of mammary cancer and pyometra, and I would advise speying before the first heat. With males timing is not as critical unless behavioural factors are involved.

For a larger dog, I personally think it’s worth delaying desexing to between the first and second heat. I would get too nervous about mammary cancers to wait beyond the second heat but there may be some benefit in preventing osteosarcoma by delaying surgery until more skeletal maturity, and same for cruciate injuries.

(I have a theory that osteosarcoma occurs in its predilection sites due to increased bio-mechanical forces in these areas, so waiting for skeletal maturity before removing the gonads might be helpful.)

On the other hand, screening for hip dysplasia and desexing if the dog definitely has it so you can perform a JPS also has benefits, because you’re addressing pathology the dog definitely has right now.

There are so many unknowns in these hypothetical scenarios. This makes it a challenge to make recommendations when clients just want the ‘right’ answer.

The best plan for the individual dog may depend on breed or breed mix (genetic testing would be ideal, but an added cost) or any known predispositions within the family or bloodlines.

So, this explanation is getting rather long, but there’s so much interesting information on this topic and it’s growing all the time.

Originally posted by mensweardog

TL:DR there is probably a benefit to delayed desexing in dogs prone to OSC, cruciate injury and HSARC. Some of the other risks may be mitigated by weight control. There is minimal if any benefit, and definitely some risk, in delaying desexing for small breeds.

But this field may change as more information is gathered. It will be worth watching over the next decade.

NB: shelters and rescues will always desex as young as possible, because their primary aim is population control. They are justified in doing this and their cases shouldn’t be considered in these scenarios.

(Majority of these statistics come from ‘The spay/neuter controversy’ presented at the OVMA by John Berg, DVM, DACVS and ‘ Long-term health effects of neutering dogs: comparison of Labrador Retrievers with Golden Retrievers‘ by Hart, Hart, et al)

Dr Ferox’s writing time is brought to you by her supporters on Patreon. You can support the blog from as little as $1 a month.

What happened at the Singapore airport

I went to the Jongin tag recently and saw many asks about this and some misunderstanding. I saw some people were saying he’s being ‘arrogant’ for asking why are people touching him at that time and I don’t understand how one can say that.

From this vid, you can hear he was asking “왜날만질까?” (why are they touching me?) and the wording ‘ㄹ까’ at the end that he used suggested that he was talking to himself, something like you say in your head or alone when you’re talking to yourself, so it wasn’t directed to the fans at all.

Another thing is that he said ‘만질까’. If in that situation where he’s touched by people he doesn’t know personally and if he used the word 만지다, it can’t be his arm or hand, it should be at least his butt or it wasn’t a simple touch. The word is very sexual. It should be considered a harassment and instead of flipping out and lashing on fans, all he did was talking to himself, ‘wait, why are people touching me’.. which showed how nice he was the way he just laughed it off and that’s why it hurts us fans who watched the video even more.

Even in that situation where he was the one swarmed by fans and got pushed, he saw a fan fell down and asked if she is okay. All he said the whole time was “wait/just a second..” repeatedly instead of getting mad or tell others to stop. He has been way too polite, he was too nice..

Feeling sorry for what happened, a fan brought a board to the concert saying “we are really sorry for yesterday at the airport”

He saw the board, took a time to read and with a smile he said, “ 괜찮아, 괜찮아” (it’s okay, it’s okay).

[source]

(also I gotta say don’t blame on the Singaporean fans, it’s mostly the fans who flew in from other countries and waited at the arrival area)

I’m just writing this just because I couldn’t stand people saying how he was being ‘arrogant’ or things like ‘just because he’s an idol doesn’t make him better than anyone else’ just because he was asking why people are touching him.. let me stress again, it wasn’t a normal touch and he wasn’t directing it to the fans. He said ‘it’s okay’ with a smile because Kim Jongin is that kind hearted but who knows whatever he felt at that time at the airport. So from my post I just hope people can see how the kind of person he is from this situation..

Who’s to Blame? (Part Two)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is the most eligible bachelor in New York, a ladies’ man and a dick even. He’s also your best friend. However, he gets into a freak accident and he ends up losing his left arm. His confidence is shattered, and it’s up to you to show him that he is still the man he was before the accident. (Modern-Day Alternate Universe, Possible Series)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @xxladymaximoffxx for proofreading my work! ilysm! 💕

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,035

Originally posted by multifandomimagines-17

Keep reading

Former U.S. President Barack Obama holds Jolene Jackinsky’s 6-month-old baby girl while posing for a selfie with the pair at a waiting area on July 3 at Anchorage International Airport, in Anchorage, Alaska. Jackinsky said Obama walked up to her and asked, “Who is this pretty girl?”


(Jolene Jackinsky via AP)

Jolene Jackinsky was at Anchorage International Airport on Monday looking for an airline when she ended up in a waiting area for private flights where a man she thought looked like Obama was sitting.

“As I got closer, I thought: Oh my God, it is Obama,” she recalled Friday from Newhalen, a small Alaska village where she’s vacationing.Obama then walked up to her and asked “Who is this pretty girl?”

They chatted about how fast children grow while Obama carried baby Giselle. Jackinsky took a few photos of a smiling Obama carrying Giselle, who was wearing a straw hat with a white ribbon.

Obama told them he was headed home from a vacation, Jackinsky said.

When Giselle’s father approached, Obama joked, “I’m taking your baby,” Jackinsky said.

he kicked me in the face and i still love him more than 99.9% of things on this planet