well it sure is odd

2

she had the world // panic! at the disco

Chamber of Secrets - Part 22

Originally posted by joshholloway

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After the Avenger’s falling out, you were put in charge of putting Bucky together. Under King T’Challa’s orders, you were given a month’s time to create a new arm while simultaneously figure out how to get the triggering memories of his past out of his mind. As the time goes by, you found yourself confiding in him, despite his frozen state.

A/N: THINGS ARE FINALLY PICKING UP. I feel like there’s only a handful of chapters left before the end, would you guys be interested in a sequel? Or not? Let me know! So I know how to properly end this one lmao. 

Special thanks to the great @hellomissmabel for helping me with the psychological thingamajig, what would I do without you, Annie ❤️

Series Masterlist 

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Hanging Conversations - A Carrison Fanfiction/One-Shot

Rating: T
Summary: Carrie and Harrison say goodbye. Set in 1976.
Disclaimer: this is a real person fan fiction, so it all definitely came from my imagination and I’m not trying to offend anyone (you know the drill).
A/N:  The poem in this is Carrie’s, just to disclaim. Also, this is unbeta’d so all mistakes are mineeee. This one goes out to my girls Nor @hanorganaas and Taylor @friskynotebook for being hella cool and hella supportive. 

Without further ado, I hope y’all enjoy and don’t forget to tell me what you thought of it afterwards, I live off of your opinions. 


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  • Psychic: *reads my mind*
  • Me: Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor
  • Just for the attention.
  • Cause that's just ridiculously odd
  • Well, she sure is gonna get it
  • Here's the setting
  • Fashion magazines line the walls now
  • The walls line the bullet holes
  • Have some composure
  • Where is your posture?
  • Oh, no, no
  • You're pulling the trigger
  • Pulling the trigger
  • All wrong
  • Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
  • Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
  • When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
  • "Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
  • She didn't choose this role
  • But she'll play it and make it sincere
  • So you cry, you cry
  • (Give me a break)
  • But they believe it from the tears
  • And the teeth right down to the blood
  • At her feet
  • Boys will be boys
  • Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams
  • (Give me a break, break, break)
  • Have some composure
  • Where is your posture?
  • Oh, no, no
  • You're pulling the trigger
  • Pulling the trigger
  • All wrong
  • Come on this is screaming "Photo op." op...
  • Come on
  • Come on
  • This is screaming
  • This is screaming
  • This is screaming "Photo op."
  • Boys will be boys, baby
  • Boys will be boys
  • Boys will be boys, baby
  • Boys will be boys
  • Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention
  • Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
  • When I say "Shotgun", you say "Wedding"
  • "Shotgun", "Wedding", "Shotgun", "Wedding"
  • Boys will be boys
  • Hiding in estrogen and boys will be boys
  • Boys will be boys
  • Hiding in estrogen and wearing Aubergine dreams...
  • Psychic: what the fuck
Rain

Coran said that the Altean version of rain (“water falling from the sky”) was piping hot rocks…

The idea that water falls from the sky isn’t hard to imagine, but Earth must be very marshy to accommodate small lakes’ worth of water coming from the atmosphere. Oh well, no matter. He’s sure Altea sounds a bit odd to the Earthlings.

Coran and Allura’s first trip to Earth is a learning experience. A mostly oxygen atmosphere, how bizarrely effective! And the ground is rather compact for all the rainfall it supposedly has to endure. (How do the trees stay upright with thousands of liters of water falling down on them all at once? Maybe strains of kelpercidin are common in earthen plant life?)

Coran is chatting with Lance’s family, explaining the finer points of what great gifts to the universe Balmera are, when some percussive taps are heard all around. Coran sees Lance perk up immediately, kiss a small cousin on the top of her small head, and rise from his seat, walking toward the front door.

“Tell me, what is that flackermacket?”

“Oh, it’s rain. A storm will be rolling in, before too long.”

Rain? This house wasn’t equipped to handle so much water. And no one seemed bothered? Excusing himself, Coran followed Lance. The door was still open to the outside and what was there astounded him.

Lance was standing, arms outstretched, face upturned to the…hundreds? thousands? millions? of small droplets cascading from the cumulonimbus clouds above. Not giant torrents of water, but instead a gentle fall of simultaneous millions.

Cautiously, Coran held out his hands to get a taste of it for himself. The drops kissed and slashed and dropped across his hands. He took a step forward, then another, and another, until he was standing right next to Lance. The rain sang as it came down, and the unexplained questions as to how so much vegetation was able to flourish so far from stationary bodies of water. This muddling, chemical oddity of a planet cared for itself so quietly, Coran doubted any earthlings knew. No one needed to make regular trips to the nearest Balmera or neuron stars for energy or planet life. It all happened here, and it came in such small, insignificant drops of water.

Turning his eyes to Lance, who had the same smile he’d worn upon seeing his family for the first time in over a year, Coran reached out and touched his shoulder.

“I get why you missed this. It’s beautiful.”

Please Don’t Say You Love Me

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

Listen to the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxNYvk_0Onw

A/N: This is a songfic that I based off of my current favorite song. I’m pretty damn proud of this fic, so I hope you like it!


Summer comes, winter fades

Here we are just the same

Don’t need pressure, don’t need change

Let’s not give the game away

Long-term relationships were never your thing. Hell, relationships weren’t ever your thing. Not getting attached was not part of being a spy. Working for SHIELD, you saw your colleagues, your friends, try to balance the job and love. It never ended well. So you avoided it. Sure, there was the odd one night stand, or flirtation, but you refused to go further. You knew you’d get hurt.

Things changed when the Avengers came knocking on your door. You joined them, happy to spend some time with your old friends Natasha and Clint. What you couldn’t have ever predicted was Bucky.

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anonymous asked:

Is it just me, or is Rocky just really inconsiderate and heartless? I know he's supposed to be the lovable idiot, but it seems pretty cruel how he exploits the psychotic mental instability of his cousin just to make a gunman for Mitzy and the Lackadaisy, and then guilt trips him into not saying anything to his aunt by depicting her, honestly deserved, righteous fury. I don't know. Maybe I'm just reading to much into this, and I still love Rocky, but it just seems odd.

Well, I’m not sure I was keeping it a secret that he’s doing a lot of desperate, terrible things. He’s certainly not the only character going to some lengths to be horrible, but perhaps he’s been the most guileful about it…up to a point, anyway:

Caught Up In You

Can you write a story where aaron and the reader are getting angry at each other when he comes home from a case ‘cause he risked his life on the field and she’s scared of losing him and he is shocked when the reader tells him she loves him. Love you!

I can do this one!  I hope that you enjoy it, @carenakchoate.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!


As you rush in to the hospital, tears streaming down your cheeks, you see Morgan flagging you down as he comes rushing over to you.

Where is he?” you fume.

“Baby girl, calm down,” he says, taking your arm and leading you through the double doors.

“Don’t you ‘baby girl’ me…where the hell is he!?” you storm, throwing open doors as you see Spencer stick his head out.

Barging through the door, your hands shaking as your face continues to turn different shades of red, your eyes land on Aaron, battered and bruised as the doctor finishes stitching up the last part of the gunshot wound on his arm.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” you exclaim, flailing your arms in the air as your eyes grow wild, “What did you think you were doing!?”

“Y/N, calm down,” he says, his eyes darting over to you as he takes in your haggard appearance.

“Calm down!?  I get a phone call at 2 am saying that you’re being taken to the hospital because you were shot, and I’m supposed to be calm!?”

Watching as Aaron sighs, the doctor looks at you hesitantly as he makes the last knot in his stitching.

“Now, remember,” the doctor leans in and says, “no water on it for a week, the swelling will go down with time.  Ice and heat as necessary for the pain, and make an appointment to come back in two weeks if the stitches haven’t dissolved and pushed themselves out on their own.”

As your eyes dart from the doctor to Aaron and back again, you put your hand on the doctor’s arm as he turns towards you.

“Is he gonna to be alright?” you ask, tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N…I’m fine,” Aaron stresses as he winces trying to reach out for you.

Not looking at Aaron, the doctor gives you a weak smile as he nods, “He’s going to be just fine, ma’am.”

Taking a deep, ragged breath as you let go of the doctor, your teary gaze turns to Hotch as you feel the anger rise back up in your throat.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you hiss at him.

“Please, not now…” he says, groaning as he gets off of the table.

Reaching out your hands to steady him, you sniffle back as a tear drips down your face, “Screw the fact that I’m now a prevalent person in your life, what in the world would have happened to Jack had you gotten killed!?”

“Hey!” he yells, startling the team outside as he points his finger in your face, “Jack is my son.  I know when my life is too much at risk.  I would never leave him behind!”

“Well you sure as hell have an odd way of showing it!” you yell back, motioning to his arm as you take a step forward.

“It’s my job, Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth.

Fuck your job,” you say, grabbing your purse as the tears begin to pour down your face.

“Why are you so angry right now?” Aaron sighs, closing his eyes as a headache starts to pound behind his eyes.

And as you slowly lean up, your knees quivering as you swallow hard, you keep your back to him as you murmur, “Because I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been four days since you had heard from Aaron.  The team kept messaging and calling with updates, but insisting that it was a bad idea for you to come help.

You didn’t blame them.  They were just protecting their friend.

You took the holidays off to spend with him and Jack…and the only thing you had done up until this point was stare at your boxes of decorations as you anxiously await the ringing of your phone.

You cried yourself to sleep every night.  You sent text message after text message to Aaron, saying if he needed you all he had to do was call…that the team was urging you not to come so just let you know…that you were sorry for how you reacted and that you could do better…be better…for him.

And the days ticked on without so much as a hunch of a reply.

One day J.J. showed up on your doorstep with Jack, saying that his sister-in-law was sick and that she couldn’t watch Jack.

“You mean Aaron’s back at work?” you ask incredulously, her eyes looking down at Jack as you take his hand, ushering him into the house.

She never did answer.  All she did was say thank you.

You and Jack had a wonderful time.  You decorated the house while bouncing around to Christmas music, you pulled out some pre-made sugar cookie dough that you baked in the oven while watching the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas movie…you even sang off-tune carols to each other while decorating the sheet of sugar cookie you had rolled out since you couldn’t find your holiday cookie cutters.

The two of you eventually passed out on the couch, Jack curled up at your side as you hunkered him down between your body and the couch.

Feeling him stir the next morning, you hear a knock at the door as you roll yourself off of the couch.

Wincing at your stiff neck, you massage it with your right hand as you cover Jack’s half-asleep body with a blanket as you go over and unlock the door.

Opening it quietly, your eyes widen as you see Jessica standing on your porch.

“H-hey there,” you say, looking behind you before stepping out on the porch, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” she smiles, her eyes searching your face as she tilts her head to look into the house through the window.

“Sound asleep still?” she asks.

“Yeah…yeah we went all out yesterday,” you say, smiling as you quickly recount to her all the things you did.

“Sounds like a wonderful time,” she smiles.

“Um…H-How…how’s Aaron?” you stammer, your gaze slowly drifting back to hers as her smile broadens.

“I’m just here to pick up Jack,” she says as she hands you a little brown box with a red bow on it.

Ushering her to go on in as she brushes past you, you look down at the box as your shaking hands open it slowly.

Furrowing your brow as you look down at the plane ticket to North Carolina, you pull out the folded piece of paper as you tuck the ticket into the pit of your arm.

Y/N,

I’m sorry that I have been so out of touch.  What you said to me at the hospital has taken a little while to sink in.  I remember you telling me how homesick you get at this time of year.  Maybe I could help with that.

Love,

Aaron

Feeling your eyes begin to water as you feel a tug at your shirt, you bend down to get eye level with Jack as you blink back your tears.

“I had fun yesterday,” you say, tugging at his coat as you work to zip it up.

“Me, too,” he says, smiling at you as you brush off his shoulders.

“Now, you be good for Miss Jessica, alright?” you say, cupping his cold cheeks as he nods.

Watching them walk off, you take the ticket out from under your arm as you look at the boarding time, checking your watch as you scurry back into the house.

4 hours until take-off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking the airport after getting your luggage x-ray’d, you look down at your ticket as you search the signs that point to your gate.

Throwing your weekend bag over your shoulder, you turn left down the busy intersection, searching for your gate as it finally emerges in the distance.

And as you squint your eyes, your knees beginning to wobble, you see him.

Aaron.

Picking up the pace as you barrel towards the gate, you watch a smile cross his face as you plow into him, feeling his good arm wrap tightly around you as he buries his face in to your neck.

“Oh, my god,” you breathe, your body shaking as he holds you tighter, “Oh my god, Aaron.”

Sobbing into the crook of his neck, his hand running up and down your back as he places light kisses all along your ear, you finally lift your face as you feel your noses brush together.

“I missed you so much,” you choke out, your legs going weak underneath you as you struggle to continue standing.

“I missed you, too,” he murmurs lowly, his lips curling up into a smile.

“Why…?”

You couldn’t even formulate the words.

Feeling him guide you over to a set of chairs, he sits you down as he takes a seat next to you, his hand searching for yours as he holds your hand tight.

“What you said in that hospital, it startled me…” he trails off.

Searching his eyes as he shakes his head, a smile breaks out from under his dipping head as he raises his eyes back up to yours, “…and I realized as you left the hospital that night that the reason you were so angry wasn’t because I risked my life in the field, but because you thought I didn’t consider you in the process.”

Feeling fresh tears well in your eyes, Aaron squeezes your hand as he continues, “When Haley died..I never-”

Watching him swallow hard, you release his hand and place it on his cheek, your palm warming his taut skin.

“I never thought that I would ever love again.  I figured, eventually, I could stand finding companionship, but never…never love…”

As he takes his good hand and places it behind your head, pulling your forehead into his, his voice lowers to a throaty mumble as he says, “Never this.”

Feeling your jaw begin to quiver as you lean your head forward, you scoop up under his slumped head as you press your lips against his, your tears coating his lips as he presses his face back into yours, his tongue ever so lightly darting out to lick your lips.

Feeling him smile against your face, you pull back and find his gaze, his brown eyes twinkling as he continues.

“Jessica has Jack for the weekend,” he says, his hand wandering to find yours again.

“The entire weekend!?” you exclaim breathlessly, your eyes widening as your brow furrows.

“Yes,” he says through his chuckles as he brings your hand to his lips.

And as the two of you listen to the boarding instructions, watching everyone grabs their bags and begin to line up, you slowly rise to your feet as you feel Aaron’s arm dip around your waist, spinning you back towards him, his lips dipping low into your ear as your body shudders.

“I have an entire weekend to show you that I love you, too.”

MGA BAYANI HIGHSCHOOL AU PART 4 + EPILOGUE

ETO NA. PAGKATAPOS NG DALAWANG LINGGONG PAG-PUT-OFF DAHIL SA ACADS, NA-TYPE KO NA. 

feat. Mabinaldo, Teresa Magbanua & Trinidad Tecson, Goyong is a Girl’s Generation fan, MacArthur has feels, Tonio loves musicals, IsaTonio (na request ni heneralakate!!!! <3) and fluffy ending. Pang-hilom mula sa isang hate blog na ‘yon *ubo ubo*

See ‘mypost’ tag for the other 3 chapters :D 

————————————–

Sir MacArthur was showing the films today. Tonio could now feel the artistic streak in him quivering with excitement—he and his brother indeed shared the same blood.

MacArthur turned on the projector, turned off the lights, which inevitably caused Rusca to sarcastically scream. Tonio saw Paco swat Rusca’s arm as Joven struggled not to laugh.

Tonio heard the click of a CD being placed in the drive, and soon a picture was playing on the whiteboard.

Sure enough, Pepe’s CD played first. Tonio could tell from the viciously amazing editing at simply the title. Tonio watched intently with his chin propped. Mary Clare  entered, dressed in a nun’s attire…singing?

Musical? Hebigat.

It was indeed a musical. Mary Clare sang a nun’s song about God and a new day, and Tonio heard some yawns at the back, and someone say “ano ba ‘yan ba’t kumakanta”. Tonio wanted to smack them—he absolutely adored musicals, damn anyone who thought to insult them.

The yawns were immediately changed to chortles as the camera panned to Andres, sitting at the corner of a street dressed as a hobo. He heard Aguinaldo snicker—but whatever laughter that was in the room vanished when Andres began to sing. They all blinked, including Tonio, and stared at Andres who sat by the window. He was smirking.

It was a simple story—a wretched beggar who received alms only from the beautiful nun of the convent. Soon, the beggar fell in love with the only person who showed him kindness. And then a car came along.

Tonio would later ask Pepe who edited those special effects, because damn. It was almost as good as Rusca’s car crash in their movie. The poor man became the victim of a hit-and-run, and he crawled weakly to the place that he could call home the most. The nun returned from an errand, and horrified at the state of her friend, proclaimed her despair. And the wretch—no longer a coward in the face of death—proclaimed his love to her.

It was a duet of regret, of bittersweet joy. Mary Clare’s and Andres’s voices rose in a crescendo that gave Tonio chills—and it ended with only the lady’s voice singing.

The class was in such a depressed state that only a picture of Pepe the Frog floating next to Rizal’s name in the credits cheered them up. As Tonio wiped his eyes, he heard Jacinto yelp and say “sakit mo naman sumiko, Pe!”

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Ghost!AU
  • Adrien Agreste is dead.  He was killed on his eighth birthday in the same automobile accident that crippled his father and drove his mother into an obsessive fury to find the one thing that might undo this tragedy: the power of the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculouses, combined.
  • Obviously, dead is not the same as gone.
  • Adrien grows up as a ghost, alone and isolated from everyone in the world.  All he can do is float around in the streets; while he can enter public places like malls and libraries, people’s houses are off-limits to him (yes, I’m running off of Dresden Files rules for magic, ghosts, and shades here).
  • He reads a lot.
  • One day, when he’s (as far as he can remember) around fifteen and a half, he notices a girl beginning to cross the street.
  • He also notices the truck about to run her down.
  • Out of force of habit, he screams, “Look out!”
  • She jumps at the sound of his voice.
  • The truck still hits her.
  • Marinette spends a couple days in hospital, but it isn’t fatal.
  • She’s slightly preoccupied because she’s trying to convince herself that she’s not going insane and that she is not hearing voices.
  • For his part, Adrien is busy trying to decide between being very confused and very happy, because HOLY SHIT SOMEONE FINALLY HEARD HIM but he has no idea why the hell this is happening.
  • He gets a bit of a clue the day Marinette is discharged.  One of the patients gets akuma’d and she transforms into Parisian superhero Ladybug.
  • He tries to help, but all of his shouting is probably distracting her more than warning her.
  • She’s about halfway through getting her ass thoroughly whupped when he notices a little old Chinese man standing calmly in the middle of the chaos and destruction with his hands clasped behind his back, staring right at him with a little calm smile.
  • “Do you want to help her?” he asks.
  • “Um, yes?”
  • The old man cocks his head to the side, turns slightly, then chucks a ring into him.
  • INTO.  HIM.
  • God, it hurts.
  • When the pain fades, he’s vaguely aware that he can actually feel things again: the breeze on his skin, the vibrations of the street below his feet, so on and so forth.
  • He also aware that he looks vaguely like a solid shadow, or a human-shaped column of soot.  But that doesn’t seem to matter; he can touch things again.
  • Fight happens, Chat saves Ladybug, Ladybug saves city.
  • “Who are you?” she asks after the fight.
  • He opens his mouth to tell her.
  • He finds himself completely mute.
  • It’s because where his mouth should be there’s a blank expanse of black.
  • It’s about then that her Miraculous beeps.
  • Ladybug thanks him and turns away, but when he tries to follow she warns him off.
  • All Adrien can do is watch her as she leaps away and out of sight.
  • He decides to follow suit a few minutes later as reporters start to converge.
  • As Marinette comes out and is picked up by her parents, he decides that he might as well follow along and make sure that she’s all right.  It’s an odd feeling having a body again, but it isn’t as though he can act on most of that list he’d developed while he was a ghost, most of which required actually being able to eat and taste again.
  • It goes decently well up until he lands on her terrace.
  • Marinette pops her head up through the trapdoor, sees him, screams, and in one swift move scythes his feet out from under him and rams her knee into his throat as he falls.
  • Discorporating hurts almost as much as incorporating does.
  • When he looks back up, Marinette is staring at the little silver ring lying on the deck.
  • “I really am going insane,” she mutters.  “I’m hearing voices, I just attacked a hallucination, I’m going completely insane.”
  • “That hurt,” he complains.  “And I’m not a hallucination, thanks.”
  • “Yeah,” Plagg chimes in, “he’s not a hallucination.”
  • It takes a while and Tikki’s intervention for both of them to calm down, but it happens eventually, and somehow without alerting Marinette’s parents.
  • So the girl he’d kept from being run over by a truck is the superhero, Ladybug.  He’s apparently her counterpart, Chat Noir, who is also a ghost.  And dead.  And apparently there’s a tradeoff, because, in Plagg’s words “there’s always a price in these things”: he can’t be heard as Chat Noir, and he can’t be seen as a ghost.
  • Which blows.

Submitted by @eliasraine

Prussia and Germany responding to the first ’I love you’!:

Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt-
“You…vhat?” He fumbled out, unsure he’d heard you correctly.
“I-I said…I love you?” You questioned your previous confidence. What had driven you to tell him today. What had gotten into your head that you decided to bare your soul.
“Are you sure?” The tall German was flustered, something you didn’t see often.
“Well…yeah, I‘m sure.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, it was after all an odd question.
“I…I love you too.”
Prussia/Gilbert Beilschmidt-
“And it took you this long to admit it? Of couRSE YOU LOVE ME I AM AWESOME.”
*sigh* He loves you too…he’s just a dork. Good luck.

anonymous asked:

Love at first sight for allies an axis + s Italy , Canada and Prussia please

Axis:
North Italy/Feliciano Vargas:
He saw you out at the market and his breath was immediately taken away. The way your eyes seemingly sparkled and your whole demeanor had him entranced in seconds.

South Italy/Lovino Vargas: He had averted his gaze the moment he saw you, because really he did not want to be caught staring. Face bright red he would try to continue what he was doing, only to somehow draw your attention. Shit.

Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt: Ludwig never believed in love in first sight but you were making him question it, that was for sure. Trying to muster up the courage to talk to you, he first had to clear the lump in his throat.

Japan/Kiku Honda: Well those feelings slammed into him like a freight train. Odd, for sure. Keeping up with what he was doing, he eyed you cautiously as he continued. There was just something about you that… Wow.

Prussia/Gilbert Beilschmidt: Immediately choking on his own spit, he would struggle for a moment before strutting up to you and trying to organize his thoughts and words at the same time. Good think his face didn’t get any redder, else he would have looked like a tomato.

Allies:
America/Alfred F. Jones:
Alfred saw you and his face immediately split into a grin. He didn’t know what it was about you, but you just drew him… Well, only one solution then. Talk to you and pray he didn’t make a fool out of himself.

Canada/Matthew Williams: Matthew would see you and tilt his head just the slightest bit as he analyzed. Now that you had his attention, it was kind of hard to shake it, and you would find him at first, shyly approaching you armed with a compliment.

England/Arthur Kirkland: His eyes landed on you and would blow wide. Seeing an indefinitely lovely person? In a bookstore? Wasn’t this his lucky day. Now just to muster up the courage to interact with you…

France/Francis Bonnefoy: Francis knew this feeling well, and he knew that the best thing to do was to not suppress it, else it would lead to unhappiness. So, he did the only reasonable thing. Do his best to romance you.

Russia/Ivan Braginsky: Ivan’s heart almost fell out of his chest right then and there. You seemed amazing in all aspects of the word and he couldn’t help the faint blush that tinged his cheeks.

China/Yao Wang: He had only heard of love at first sight in the many legends, but never once did he think that he would experience it. Whatever this was, he felt like it needed to be acted upon. Immediately.

Me in casual conversation

Them: *talking about their day and says something weird*

Me: well that’s pretty odd

Them: yeah, sure, I guess…whatever *tries to continue their story*

Me: ridiculously odd

Them: goddamnit you emo piece of shit shut up about your music I am trying to have a normal conversation and tell a story but you’ve got to go and-

Me: *sticks hand in their face* build god. Then we’ll talk.

#284 Because of cartoons.

Have you spent any time watching children’s cartoons lately? Well, if you haven’t, you haven’t been missing much. Sure, there is the odd educational, modern show, but a lot of it pretty much looks the same as it did way back when. Firstly, they are still mainly centred around male characters. According to the True Child Institute, as of a few years ago, 15% of the characters on Saturday morning cartoon shows were female. Unfortunately, a lot of those 15% are essentially interchangeable characters. They are either femme fatales that turn the male characters ga-ga, or annoying, stupid sisters with minimal on-screen time or pink, empty, frivolous versions of the male characters, as in 2011-2014 The Looney Tunes Show. Many cartoons that are aired today are actually the same ones you watched growing up, others are spin-offs of the old cartoons and some are brand new creations, and together they are perpetuating the same sexist tropes that have been around for decades. Reel Girl writer Margot Magowan commented on the situation in response to the racism disclaimer now shown before old Tom &Jerry cartoons:

“Unfortunately, the reason that there’s no disclaimer and no introduction [about sexism] is because sexist stereotypes in kids’ cartoons are just as accepted in 2012 as they were sixty years ago. Sexist jokes in animation are, apparently, still hilarious.”

While there are the few exceptions, in general, cartoons aren’t evolving. A study in Media Psychologyrevealed that cartoon-dominated children’s TV programming portrayed male characters who were “more likely than female characters to answer questions, boss or order others, show ingenuity, achieve a goal and eat.” Further, it’s been revealed, for instance, that the executives at Cartoon Network told Tower Prep creator Paul Dini that female characters need to be “one step behind the boys, not as smart as the boys, not as interesting as the boys, but right there.” When he disregarded their suggestion and created well-rounded female characters anyway, they axed the show.

Criticising children’s cartoons might seem ridiculous and the acts of a few crazies living in a feminism bubble, but in as The Huffington Post’s Nikki Gloudeman expressed it:

“While sexism seems to permeate every facet of the media – you can’t run or hide! – these portrayals feel particularly damaging when targeted at a young, and by definition, highly impressionable audience. Can we really foster confident women when, from an early age, their favorite programs are telling them boys are simply smarter and more interesting than girls?”

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm applying to be an au pair and have a question. I just had my first skype interview a few days ago, at the end he said he would contact me later on aupairworld. I sent a quick message after thanking him, but when do I follow up again? He opened but didn't answer my message. I really like this family but don't want to seem too pushy.

That may mean the family isn’t interested, or it may mean they’re still talking to other potential au pairs and will make their decision afterwards. I wouldn’t send any more messages; just wait for a response and continue looking. Stay confident! Remember that they aren’t just interviewing you, YOU’RE interviewing THEM. Don’t forget your value - you want to find the best family possible, so they need to meet your standards as well. Make sure you’re talking to several potentials to increase those odds :)

Watch on modmad.tumblr.com

TPoH music time!

Everyone already knows this song is super relevant to TPoH, but this version matches the attitude of the comic pretty darned well imho.