MCU And Harry Potter

The big work parties, school presentations, huge sporting events, stores that don’t deliver, sit down restaurants...all of these things are the way that they are because the world is extroverted. We’re expected to be social.

And that’s fine, because it’s healthy to be social.

So us introverts, we just deal.

We go. And we do. Just like you. But it’s not easy for us. It actually really sucks for a lot of us.

Now for once the extroverts are being pushed out of their comfort zone to stay healthy.

So, I just want to say I acknowledge how hard this is for you guys. This isn’t your life, this isn’t what you enjoy. It’s very hard for you to feel normal right now.

I know you feel like you want to crawl out of your skin. You just want to leave by any means. You want to do ANYTHING that isn’t this. I get it.

So on behalf of introverts everywhere we’d just like to say:

Okay, but Mark left Colin speechless. 

I’m not sure when it started—I don’t know if it was the day after, or the moment her uncle spoke the first words of her eulogy—but I can no longer watch someone suffer. I look into their eyes and I see her, trapped in the dark corners of her own mind. So maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised the first I sat beside a young boy with demons hiding in the bags under his eyes. We never spoke, but his hollowed gaze left the sight of churning water to meet my eyes. In that moment I saw his youth, hidden behind the dark intentions at the forefront of his mind. I knew I could not let this boy, this child, make the same decision my friend had made merely a month prior; partly because I knew no one could stop me from jumping right after. I don’t know if he saw that when he held my gaze, but I remember the moment he made his decision. I remember the tears that tracked down his cheeks and the unanswered question hanging between us, weighing on both our minds. I so desperately wanted to reassure him (It’s going to be okay), but I could not force the lie past my lips. I didn’t know if it would be okay, so I merely shook my head and said nothing.

             After my experience with the boy on the bridge (he never gave his name, I never asked), I started to see echoes of her in too many people to count; the barista at my local coffee shop, a friends older sibling, the man at the bus stop with coffee stains on his collar and nails chewed to the quick. I could not help all of them, but I did what I could. A smile became my most common piece of attire, something I donned for every family member, friend, and stranger. Even when my cheeks hurt and I felt more like disappearing than existing, I would smile.

             There is so much in this world that I don’t know for sure like: if burgers are actual beef, or if god is real, or if that boy on the bridge from all those years ago is still alive. I won’t deny that every week or month I look in the newspaper, hoping not to find a young boy with demons hiding in the shadows under his eyes. So far I’ve been lucky, I just hope that luck doesn’t run out before it turns into positive change.

jehovah’s witnesses knock on the door. aziraphale frantically tries to get them to go away because if he doesn’t before crowley sees them, crowley WILL invite them in, he WILL talk to them for over an hour, he will give them the drive they need to visit twice as many houses as they otherwise would have today

the neighbourhood kids absolutely seeing old mr fell with a gigantic snake around his shoulders, and rushing in to ask 10930 questions about its life and diet, to which he makes up completely implausible answers

everyone in the village assumes that crowley is aziraphale’s sugar baby, which crowley finds hugely insulting and completely hilarious in turns

aziraphale, multiple times, wakes up and looks outside to see crowley having long, philosophical arguments with their chickens

whenever aziraphale finds pests in their garden - rabbits sniffing about crowley’s carrots, mice threatening to go through the fruit trees, even the single vixen that was going to menace their chickens and that crowley said he would kill with his bare hands if it touched any of his “little ladies” - he quickly and quietly takes them off somewhere much nicer. 

not because crowley would actually harm the rabbits or the foxes (the mice he’ll eat. he is a snake, after all), but because crowley wouldn’t ever - just to spare him the embarrassment of not doing so in front of aziraphale, after he said that he would

- knocking crap over with these overly large appendages

- didn’t ask for them/can’t get rid of them

- accidental unfolding in awkward times

- painfully hiding wings under coats

- refusing to fly

- failing to fly

- being forced to fly in a final moment, either hating or loving it?

- trying to get into cars and whining like a little b*tch

- wings that react to emotion (raising when angry, droop when sad etc.)

- *someone pats them on the back* *winged person winces like heck*

- leaving feathers in their clothes, on the carpet. the stuff is everywhere

- frantically cleaning up feathers

- won’t let anyone touch their wings

- broken wings/ amputated wings/ injured wings that don’t work

- wings that vanish when not open/ or wings that don't ever vanish

- worlds where its common to have wings but they don’t have ‘normal’ ones

- worlds where it is not normal to have wings

- magical wings vs normal biology wings

- their bones break too easily because they are so much more delicate in order to fly

- molting

- sharp feathers that work like knives

- wings that don’t match their ‘aesthetic’ (edgy bad-boy has bright white wings, goodie-two-shoes has freaking demon-bat wings)

- flying lessons

- jumping off small things and its just… not working

- you know that scene in spiderverse where he goes up onto a tall building, hesitates, and then goes to find a slightly smaller skyscraper? that, but with wings

- trying to carry their friends

- trying to carry injured friends

- using their wings as a blanket or a shield

- get’s angry and the wings raise up to cast this terrifying shadow over everything

Let It Be by The Beatles except you’re in your room on a late summer’s night, crying your eyes out over something dumb but knowing you need to get it out, and in the middle of it you put this song on your old record player. It’s deeply cathartic as you stare at the ceiling and listen to the breeze outside your window.

I forgot judgementsl cat too

HOW ARE CATS REAL

Mute this. The music is annoying.

Drop one (1) a cronch and It gets under the tity in side the bra shelf and Eludes!

*slaps folder on table*