Hottest of hot takes, Heimdall is literally the only competent Asgardian, he’s the only one, he’s the entirety of the functioning government
Don’t forget lifelong helicopter parent to two spoiled princes, resulting in their favorite tactic of yelling beseechingly at the sky whenever they want to nope out of a situation.
I still laugh when I think about the fact that the Ministry of Magic employs people to come up with explanations for magic-related incidents for Muggles.
I need a mockumentary in the style of Parks & Rec about the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee sitting around a table brainstorming excuses as a floating quill and roll of parchment record everything. The Muggleborns on the committee constantly look into the camera like they’re on The Office.
I don’t think you understand how much I want to be magical just so I could work for this office
“Oh yes, ma’am, you were hallucinating. Giants don’t exist.”
“No, no, you simply saw a man riding a horse, don’t be preposterous. A man can’t be a horse.”
“Come now, be reasonable. Everybody knows a Ford Anglia can’t… can’t fly…… Excuse me, I need to call a colleague of mine to ask him about, ah, something entirely unrelated.”
Addition: imagine being the cousin of a muggle-born wizard or witch who works for this office. You work at HuffPo or CNN and every so often you get a text saying “just say it was northern lights”
and your stress migraine kicks in, because whatever just happened, it’s definitely not going to pass for northern lights
i want you to imagine you’re at a dinner party, and for dessert, your host is serving apple pie. now, you’re not really an apple pie sort of person normally — you like it from time to time, but you’re awfully picky about it, and if it’s not done just right, it’s not for you — so you pass on taking some when it gets passed around. but then everyone else starts exclaiming about how delicious this pie is, how crisp it is, how flavorful, how amazing it was in star trek, so you take a piece just to see what all the fuss is about. and sure enough, it’s delicious. it’s so delicious, in fact, that you start asking questions about it, bothering the host for the recipe, paying a lot more attention to what a well-made pie it really is. and then it turns out the pie studied english literature at berekely and sometimes gets photographed reading to small children, that the pie regularly walks around in hilariously failtastic hipster-douche plaid and engages in ~intellectual competitions~ with other pies it knows, and the more you learn, the more the taste of the pie starts to curdle in your mouth. it’s so delicious that it’s TOO delicious, and probably you’re going to have cravings for this pie now whether you want them or not and you don’t, you don’t want those cravings, you don’t even LIKE apple pie. so you try to tell yourself you don’t like it that much really, that it’s not that good, that it’s probably the sort of pie that’s a total dick in real life and not in the endearing way like it comes off in interviews either, but it doesn’t help. it doesn’t make the pie any less fantastic, it doesn’t make you enjoy the pie any less, and you become consumed with your frustration at this fact — how dare this pie come along and make you hunger after it? how DARE this pie be so crisp and flavorful and fantastic in star trek? HOW DARE THIS PIE GO TO MUSIC FESTIVALS WITH A SALT AND PEPPER BEARD?? — until eventually you are standing on a table in front of the whole party, an empty pie dish held over your head, screaming “WHY WOULD ANYONE EVEN MAKE THIS PIE”
**whispers** dammit this is clever and I’ve never done a real callout post so let’s see how this goes
*clears throat, we’re now in the land of my UBER SUCESSFUL in-universe rpf blog. My character will be one of an ex-Pimms shipper who’s been jaded by the discourse surrounding Jack’s OD.*
Here’s a brief coverage of Fall Semester of Year Two:
“We don’t know where it’s been, it’s messy-looking and of indeterminate breeding, and it vascillates between boldness and terror. In other words, between me and this puppy, Vanessa’s definitely got a type.”
-instantly became ride or die with harry after the troll incedent
-set snape on fire
-brewed an illegal potion for two months in the girls’ bathroom
-turned into a furry
-immediate thought upon encountering a giant murdersnake was ‘better make sure the others find this page on my helpless petrified body bc god knows they won’t figure it out themselves’
-wanted to take finals after like a month in a magical coma
-traveled through time to get evenmore homework
-figured out lupin was a werewolf and didn’t tell anyone because he was a relatively competent teacher compared to magic ryan seacrest and literal voldemort
-essentially snatched trelawney’s weave gotdamn
-slugged draco malfoy, terrified him and his hulking buddies into running, went back in time to watch it again
-confronted a werewolf and his alleged mass murderer friend because, again, ride or die
-broke time travel laws in order to jailbreak azkaban escapee and his pet hippogriff
-dated an international sports star
-put up with all the vile shit rita skeeter wrote about her
-joined secret order dedicated to fighting voldemort
-put up with harry’s shit
-imprisoned a woman in a jar for months, blackmailed her into doing what she wanted
-formed and organized secret defense class, peer pressured harry into leading it
-permanently disfigured the girl who ratted them out. snitches get stitches.
-manipulated the shit out of umbridge
-basically left her to rot in the forbidden forest
-went to fight death eaters with like six of her mates despite her misgivings (RIDE. OR. DIE.)
-immediately agreed to destroy the dark lord’s soul with her buddies despite not having any idea how (RIDE! OR! DIE!)
-mind wiped her parents and made them go to australia to keep them safe
-essentially singlehandedly kept harry and ron alive and functional for the majority of the deathly hallows
-wore the locket while still managing not to be a shithead
-got the shit tortured out of her by bellatrix lestrange. didn’t go insane.
-fought in the battle of hogwarts. didn’t die.
-was unfailingly loyal and did everything she could to keep harry safe for seven years, even when he was quite frankly being a jackass
i saw a can of pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls at the store and it had a thing on the side like “make monkey bread” and i was like FUCK YEAH imma get this and throw it in a bundt pan and have easy as hell monkey bread BUT THEN i looked up the fucking instructions on the website and it’s like “3 cans of cinnamon rolls and a bag of caramels and some walnuts and butter and etc etc” and i am like BITCH i did not buy a can of fucking cinnamon rolls because i wanted to cook. this is some sandra lee levels of overcomplicating shit. i don’t need this. you think i’m going out and buying two more cans of actually-just-biscuits-with-delusions-of-grandeur for this? because i am. i bought a fucking bundt pan, i’ve committed. i don’t give a fuck about the sunk cost fallacy. i don’t care if there’s nothing stopping me from just making some fucking limited edition fall cinnamon rolls. this absurd monkey bread train has left the station. this is happening goddammit.
THIS IS NOW A FOOD BLOG, I HOPE YOU LIKE RAMBLING ANECDOTES ABOUT MY DAY INTERSPERSED WITH PICTURES CAREFULLY STAGED TO HIDE MY LACK OF COUNTER SPACE OR REAL CURTAINS
anyway this is the recipe i used, which they do not put on the can, they just put HEY LOOK AT THIS PICTURE OF MONKEY BREAD with no indication that it will take three fucking cans of this shit which should be illegal somehow. these are like $4 each that makes this $12 before you even consider the cost of a bundt pan and butter and what was left of my dignity
FOOD BLOG INGREDIENT PHOTO
i put all this shit on my dining room table because i decided that would be easier than trying to clean my counters or otherwise make them not look like shit. i will not be using the spooky sprinkles they are just there because i love them and i want you to know that i have spooky sprinkles. I FORGOT TO INCLUDE MY FANCY BAKING SUPPLIES LIKE METAL MIXING BOWLS AND STAND MIXER but that is because i don’t have any of that EXCEPT THESE LITTLE MEASURING CUPS which deserve their own picture because i love them
TAKE A CLOSER LOOK AT THOSE TINY SPOONS
A TAD. A DASH. A PINCH. A SMIDGEN. I CAN ADD EXACTLY A SMIDGEN OF SPICES. sorry i am just really excited about these because for years now all i have had are the measuring pigs and
okay look i’ll just throw in another picture because we are DOING THIS and also it’s easier than trying to explain the measuring pigs
each half of a matryoshka pig is a measuring cup and sure they seem cute and all but they don’t have handles so if you want a half cup of flour you’d better be ready to get flour all over your fucking hands and good luck cleaning it all out of the snoot. so you can see why i am so in love with those fancy metal ones. aside from SMIDGEN.
those little caramel bits look like chickpeas and it’s really unsettling. this is the part where i got sick and fucking tired of moving ingredients over to the dining room table, plus, the next step was to put some sugar in a plastic bag. there’s no way to make that look aesthetically pleasing. like it didn’t matter if these cans of pillsbury whatever the fuck were sitting on a marble countertop, they’re still gonna look like cardboard tubes of regret. anyway i put a bokeh filter on this to ease the transition from a genuine attempt at making things look nice to me just giving up the way this recipe intended
it took me all of five fucking seconds to get sugar fucking everywhere jesus christ why does sugar always get everywhere.
what i do is not up to you 