Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

diabolical-mastermind:

maskedlinguist:

rale:

it’s kinda cool how our generation has created actual tone in the way we write online. like whether we: write properly with perfect grammar, shrthnd everythin, use capitals to emphasise The Point, use extra letters or characters for emotion!!!!!, and much more - it means we can have casual conversations, effectively make jokes using things like sarcasm that’s usually hard to understand without context and much more. this “incorrect English” has really opened avenues of online conversation that isn’t accessible with “correct English” which is pretty interesting

#this is why attempts by the media to portray online communication by “’‘millenials”“ really frustrate me #because there are Rules okay #like see that’s different to saying ’'there are rules” (tags via @soaringsparrows)

My class and I literally taught some of the nuances of this to our english teacher, things such as the difference between “yes” and “yes.” or “..” and “…”. It makes perfect sense linguistically that we would create this complexity to ease communication in a medium without body language and tone, but what my teacher was really floored about was that none of this had ever “learned” it, we’re “native speakers” of a whole new type of english.

(Source: mcdyke, via yea-lets-do-this-shit)

nehirose:

orevet:

picture this though 

Captain Phasma gets hauled in by the Resistance at some point 

and because she’s the highest-ranking officer they’ve ever caught, Leia comes in to question Phasma personally, with Luke in tow 

they enter the interrogation room, and behind the blaster-proof viewport, standing at parade rest, is this 6 ½ foot brick shit-house of a woman in stormtrooper under-armor 

Leia just sort of… freezes, and then she’s grabbing her brother’s arm and dragging him back out into the hallway 

the door’s barely shut behind them before she’s doubled over in laughter, helplessly, the kind of laughter that comes from having to keep yourself together for years before something finally breaks  

and Luke is this close to calling for a medic when Leia manages to gasp out, 

“Don’t you think she’s a little tall for a stormtrooper?”

I LAUGHED SO HARD I GOT A CRAMP

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

unpretty:

unpretty:

“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it

The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.

According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.

Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.

Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.

Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.

They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.

The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.

She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.

Born 2018.

Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?

Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.

Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.

Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.

“Eyup,” Martha agreed.

“Don’t look government.”

“Nope.”

“We burying him?”

“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”

“You sure? Looks heavy.”

“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”

Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.

Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.

Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.

Keep reading

phantomrose96:

phantomrose96:

You know, I always find it interesting when people make fics/art where Edward’s been promoted to some rank above major (which comes with the state alchemist certification). It’s interesting to think about sure, but Ed does literally nothing for the army. Mustang’s in Central putting in the effort and getting his name passed around the higher-ups and kissing ass while Ed does literally exactly none of that. He runs around the country with his brother and, begrudgingly, checks in from time to time. Not the sorta dude to be “highly considered” for promotion.

Though the one instance where he could reasonably get promoted would be in the event that 1) Mustang has some sort of opening in his sector and 2) Mustang feels like being a dick.

“Hey Fullmetal, long time no see.”
“Yeah yeah Al and I are in a rush. We wanted to leave Central an hour ago so hurry up and spit it out what’d you call me here for?”
“Oh don’t worry it’s good news. Wonderful news. You’re really making your way in the world. See Lieutenant Colonel Davis transferred recently to Southern Command–”
“Oh no.”
“–Which means there’s a spot for Lieutenant Colonel open here.”
“No no no you didn’t.”
“Longer hours, more responsibilities, sure. But better pay, and you’d get in good with some high-ranking people, assuming you know how to brown-nose.”
“I will literally kick your ass, Mustang.”
“For what? Brightening you future?”
“No really I will kick your ass if you’re being real here–”
“Is that a challenge, Lieuuuutenant Colonel Elric?”
“I swear to God Mustang if you a c t u a l l y  d i d…”

And as it turns out Mustang’s completely bluffing and gave the job to some hard-working major under his command, but he couldn’t pass up he chance to see Edward’s reaction to dealing with the idea of having genuine responsibility to the Amestrian military. 

Mustang knows he actually has relatively little power over Ed, because Ed is too important to the homunculi. Mustang can’t fire Ed (not that he would) or suspend him or dock his pay or dole out any punishment really for insubordination. If he tried, Ed could just completely him, and no one under Bradley’s rule would try to enforce it.

This frustrates Mustang for some time, at least until Mustang discovers he actually is in possession of a real threat against Ed: Promotion.

This confuses a lot of people, who overhear fights between Ed and Mustang that end with Mustang menacingly discussing the better healthcare benefits of Lieutenant Colonels. Or the nicer pay. Or the guaranteed apartment housing in Central. 

Most soldiers start theorizing this is some kind of back-hand threat. Something like “You know Elric, you’re under consideration for Lt. Colonel and would get all these nice things. But if you’re going to be difficult, maybe we’ll give these to someone else? Think of what you’d be missing out on.” 

This theory loses all of its credibility one afternoon when Mustang’s soldiers overhear a loud, heated argument between the two of them from inside Mustang’s office. It ends with the sound of Mustang slamming both his hands down on his desk, kicking his chair back, and shouting, “I SWEAR TO GOD FULLMETAL IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I WILL PROMOTE YOU!”

Most Central soldiers just stop trying to understand alchemists at that point.

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

lurkinghistoric:

blackstump:

notcuddles:

Since I know there’s probably a fair amount of you out there who haven’t seen the first three Mad Max movies, I’m here to tell you a li’l secret about them:

All the people complaining about how Max “isn’t the main character” in Fury Road are big ol’ Fake Fanboys cause Max’s primary character trait in literally every movie is “I hate this, why is it happening, please leave me alone to brood in the desert in peace”. 

He’s much more the central focus of the plot in the first movie but in Road Warrior and Thunder Dome he basically just gets kidnapped or beat up by wankers in weird bondage outfits and spends the rest of the movie trying to leave as soon as possible while other people are like “please solve our absurd post-apocalyptic problems”.  There is not one single point where Max actively seeks out being a hero until it is forced upon him.  He ACTIVELY TELLS PEOPLE WHO ASK HIM FOR HELP to take a hike.

Mad Max himself would like nothing better than to never, ever, ever be the main character.

He would also like for people to stop stealing his fucking car.

Nobody wants to escape his own movies more than Max Rockatansky. 

He understands better than his own fanboys that his life sucks and you don’t want to be like him, to be Max is humiliating and painful. Every time he gets dragged into a conflict, he ends up worse than he started. Max seems to realize no good can come of this, and is weirdly genre-savvy because he’s always trying to make a getaway at the first signs of encroaching Plot. I find this darkly comical and endearing – at no point does he snap off witty quips and save the day and get the girl. Ever. He’s perpetually a weird desert loser with terrible luck. It’s great.

What makes Max a badass is the ability to survive to the end of any movie he’s unfortunate enough to find himself in.

@blackstump’s tags:  one of my fave things about the series tbh mad max road warrior beyond thunderdome fury road lololol max rockatansky straight up the part in fury road where he chooses to catch up with furiosa and the vuvulini and convinces them to go back? i saw a lot of oldschool fans being like THIS SHOW OF AGENCY SEEMS A LITTLE OOC.

(via dyinghistoric)