hear-hear

Have a little langst that is HEAVILY inspired by what I’m going through right now. Hope you enjoy.

~~~~~

Lance sighed and wiped his brow as he set down his last box. With his hands on his hips, he peered around his dorm room. It almost seemed it was smaller than last year. That wouldn’t surprise him. The Garrison was known to pull stuff like that. His roommate, Hunk, had yet to arrive, so he used that time to go ahead and unpack and decorate his side of the room. By random, he picked up a cardboard box that was placed on his bed. Grabbing some scissors, he sliced through the tape and tore open the box. Photographs upon photographs of his family smiled up at him. A breath caught in his throat. With trembling fingers, he picked up a photo that had his whole family in it. Lance was in the middle with a smug look on his face. The rest of his family was doubled over in laughter, some even rolling their eyes. His mama was smiling at him warmly, arm around him and pulling him in for a hug. A tear fell onto the picture. Lance hadn’t even realized he had begun to cry, but here he was with the all too familiar burn behind his eyes. 

“Damn it.” He muttered as he furiously tried to wipe away the tears.

 It hadn’t even been a week, and already the homesickness was getting to him. He wouldn’t be able to hear his siblings’ laughs, hear his papa’s booming voice. He wouldn’t get to feel his mama’s hugs. Not for months. Lance chocked on a sob, clutching the photograph close to his chest. He knew that he was doing this for his education and himself, but it hurt so damn much. Lance was sure that his hall mates could hear the loud sobs, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was so close to his family, and he wouldn’t get to see them for months. He wished Hunk were here. He gave them the best hugs. They reminded him of his mama’s. He knew that he could get through this. It would be difficult, but he could do it. Had to. For his family.

guide-to-the-galaxy  asked:

something from i hear static! like i dunno something with ghost donnie and casey doin more of that thing they do 😜 thak uuuu friendo

hey friend, here’s something i hope will make your day, since you’ve been ill lately. <3

(this isn’t technically canon, but it could be? idk, have some dumb friends being dumb.)


Casey had been a hundred percent right about how agonizing it was going to be, waiting for the plan to come into effect. Barely two days in, and he was starting to really wonder if it was possible to grab time by the collar and make it go faster.

At the moment, that remained something he personally couldn’t do. Cue him skulking around his apartment, nursing a frustrated and nervous mood.

He was stuck in the weird zone during the day where he was close to when he friends started waking up, but not close enough he could call or drop by without cutting short their sleep. His sister was at a friend’s apartment, his dad was at work for a few more hours… usually this would be an ideal time to chill out and have the television to himself, but at the moment he just felt squirrely and useless.

He stared at the digital numbers on the clock, set on top of their VCR player.

Time. Move faster. For the love of god.

Time didn’t comply.

Casey sighed, and put an arm over his eyes. Flopped across the whole of their shitty old couch, even with the drone of mindless television in the background, he couldn’t relax more than a little bit. Too much was happening lately, but also not enough was happening.

It was a little hard to properly chill out, knowing one of your closest buds was stuck between life and death 24/7 and another was looking too close to that for comfort.

Maybe he should go find some Cheetos. Cheetos made everything better, for however long the bag lasted.

Casey decided that would be a good plan, and rolled himself off the couch and onto his feet.

A spine tingling shiver went up his spine; right to his brain and through his skull.

Casey froze.

Static started to cover up whatever the game show host had been saying; garbling the words and whining through the speakers.

He slowly turned around.

Donnie’s blank eyed face stared at him from inside the television screen, shorting out the picture and filling the whole TV with pixels.

Casey stared at his friend.

“…dude, really?” He gestured at Donnie’s disembodied self inside his electronics. “With the haunting again? I thought you were over that stuff.”

Donnie didn’t answer, but the channel behind his head changed. Jaunty jazz music started playing, but slowed down and warped in parts so the saxophone sounded just plain creepy.

Casey rolled his eyes. “Oh ha ha ha, yeah real funny. I’m getting some Cheetos. You better get out of that thing by the time I’m back, because if you break my family’s television so help me.”

His friend’s image blurred on the screen, and for a moment Casey swore Donnie was sticking his tongue out at him.

Casey rolled his eyes again, and went to find his processed cheese snack.

It figured that when he opened the cupboard, the bag exploded in his face and sent orange dust everywhere.

The television channel changed a second time, playing a laugh track loudly from the living room.

Fucking poltergeists.

Casey wiped his face off with a grumble, rescued what Cheetos were salvageable enough to put in a bowl, and returned to the living room.

“Donnie, whenever you’re corporeal again I’m gonna- oh no you don’t- don’t do that, for fuck’s sake-” Casey sighed, and covered his greasy feeling face. “Donnie. Come on. That’s just freaky looking and kind of dumb.”

He peeked through his fingers.

Yep. Donnie was still hauling himself out of Casey’s television The Ring style.

Fucking. Poltergeists.

i just saw a conspiracy theory tweet that said that maybe bakugou yells all the time because his explosion quirk ruined his hearing and he cant hear shit

*lays on my back,   looks at the ceiling with my hands on my stomach,  fingers intertwined,   a small tear rolling down my cheek.*    

tomorrow,   tomorrow is the day i will cry the    HARDEST    i have ever cried over my son liam.   i will just like everyone to know that tomorrow is the day i will be so emotionally unstable.    i apologize in advance if i cry for hours on end even after watching the episode 10 times.   please,   just understand that my son will be getting it so bad that i as a    loving parent     will be     hurting.    

thank you,   that is all.

We talk a lot about Yuuri having to reconcile his idea of Viktor with the real Viktor–that is, Yuuri has this flawless, wonderful ideal of Viktor in his head which has to sort of be cut down to fit the person that Viktor really is. Which is a healthy part of their relationship, and which I completely agree is something Yuuri has to face at some point during that first summer.

But I think there’s also something to be said about Yuuri realizing that some of the horrible things he’s heard about Viktor through the skating community grapevine are not so true.

Yuuri, despite what he says, is much closer to is idol than most people ever get. If Viktor is a movie star, Yuuri is the secondary character–he’s there, and a lot of people definitely know he’s there, and he knows enough people who also know Viktor for the gossip mill to really get churnin sometimes.

I also think that at the back of every person who has ever had a celebrity crush’s mind is a little voice saying, “Never meet your heroes,” and Yuuri Katsuki is terrified of that little voice, and it contributes to the distance he keeps from Viktor–because at some point, that much distance from someone you’re facing off against in international competitions has got to be just a little bit purposeful.

So cue Viktor coming into his life all of a sudden one day, and all Yuuri can think about are the terrible awful no good very bad things people have told him about Viktor and the kind of person Viktor is.

“Fuck Viktor Nikiforov,” an older skater had told him after Skate America, six glasses into a box of wine and bitter as hell about missing the podium. “No, really, fuck him. The Russians are paying off the ISU to keep him at the top. He isn’t even that talented. I hear–I hear he doesn’t even train. I hear he just shows up and fucking does whatever and they give him gold because he’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

“I…don’t think…” Yuuri frowned at his own glass of wine. “I mean…that couldn’t be true.” He glances at Phichit next to him. “Could it?”

“Sour grapes,” Phichit advises, and Yuuri isn’t as familiar with English idioms at that point, so he thinks Phichit is talking about the wine.

Yuuri mostly forgets about it, but somewhere in the back of his mind–he can’t stop thinking about it. He watches and rewatches Viktor’s old programs and wonders to himself if the reason he thinks they’re so good is because he’s watching them through rose-tinted glasses.

Yuuri and Phichit are suffering through finals and trying to survive through twenty-hour days of nothing but studying and skating. They lay themselves on the bleachers one afternoon while they’re supposed to be doing warm ups.

“What if I just quit school and became and underwater basket weaver,” Yuuri mumbles directly into the metal seat of the bleacher. “That would be fine, right?”

“WWVND,” Phichit replies. “What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do.”

“You’re right,” Yuuri sighs.

“Viktor Nikiforov is dumber than a box of rocks,” says of the other members of the club as she skates by. “You know he never even finished high school? I mean, what counts as high school in a country like Russia. The guy probably thinks two plus two equals borscht.”

“That’s not…” Yuuri smushes his nose against the bleacher. “Hey, that’s not…”

“FUCK OFF OLIVIA,” Phichit shrieks across the rink, and Celestino definitely hears. They have to do twenty minutes of line drills. 

“What Would Viktor Nikiforov Do, right boys?” asks Olivia as she watches Yuuri try not to heave after Celestino finally releases them from their Sisyphean torture.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Phichit says, and he sounds so deeply serious that Yuuri is sincerely worried.

Several weeks later, someone mentions Viktor within earshot of Phichit and he jokingly says, “Watch what you say, that’s Yuuri’s future husband you’re talking about,” and it sort of makes Yuuri want to hit him but mostly makes Yuuri blush.

“Really?” replies that someone. “I don’t know about that, Yuuri. I wouldn’t touch that guy with a thirty foot pole. He sleeps around. Probably has all kinds of nasty stuff going on down there.”

“Oh, whatever,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Like you would know.”

Yuuri ducks his head back into his book and tries not to think about it.

These are the things that Yuuri holds in the back of his mind about Viktor, the worries that travel with him anywhere he has even the chance of encountering Viktor Nikiforov. 

‘Never meet your heroes’ becomes something of the unspoken mantra of Yuuri’s life. 

Then Viktor Nikiforov catapults himself straight into Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri learns a few things.

Viktor trains. Viktor trains hard. Viktor has neglected everything but training and skating and satisfying his own frantic need to be the best for twenty years. Viktor Nikiforov is a lonely, sad bookworm with one friend and a gaping, yearning need to be touched–and he did not get to be where he is without making sacrifices. 

Yuuri has never met anyone who made more sacrifices for this sport and this art than Viktor Nikiforov. It opens something up inside of him, throbbing and raw. It makes Yuuri want to take Viktor’s heart and shove it inside his own chest so that it never feels cold or lonely again. It makes him want to stand on the top of a tall building somewhere and scream fuck you to every person he’s encountered whose jealousy tried to convince him that this man was less than what he is.

And yes, Yuuri knows now that Viktor is forgetful and brutally honest and often doesn’t say the right thing at the right time.

He knows that Viktor is only ambidextrous in that he can use a fork with both hands and that it takes him twenty minutes in the morning to decide on a shirt to wear. He knows that Viktor Nikiforov is a blanket hog and that if Yuuri wants to wake up still covered in the morning, they have to have no less than three blankets on the bed at all times.

He knows that Viktor sometimes descends into these loops of manic energy where he wants to do everything and can’t sit still and in those moments, Yuuri wants to lock him in a room and leave him there until he starts making sense again.

He also knows that Viktor Nikiforov has the most genuinely beautiful soul that Yuuri has ever had the opportunity to touch. He knows that very few people in his life will ever love him like Viktor, and that he himself has never felt for anyone quite what he feels for this man. His man. 

He knows these things and he thinks that maybe Viktor is perfect after all, perfect in his imperfection. Every jagged edge of his fits into one of Yuuri’s, and every curve of Yuuri’s lovingly presses flush with Viktor’s until they fit together seamlessly, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Yuuri is also still a very petty person on the inside, though–which is why he makes posts on Instagram that read things like Viktor received his sixth well-deserved Russian National gold today! Congratulations to my amazing fiance.

And also:

So proud of my husband for all of his hard work commentating at the #Olympics. Some people go to school for half their lives and aren’t half as articulate as my Vitya. #Proudhubby

After that last one, Phichit leaves a voicemail on Yuuri’s phone that is literally just two whole minutes of him laughing hysterically and then wheezing, “THE SALT!” before hanging up.

“Yuuri, why did Phichit just sent me…sixteen crying laughing emojis and a text that says ‘your husband I can’t,’ in all caps?”

“Because a lot of people tried telling me you weren’t perfect and I’m proving them wrong,” Yuuri replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“Oh,” Viktor says, and literally crawls on top of him.

Yuuri supposes that the moral of the story is that the heart wants what the heart wants, and you have to find perfection in the imperfections–Viktor is loud and ditzy and forgets the English word for tomato on an almost daily basis, but he’s Yuuri’s husband. And because he’s Yuuri’s husband, he’s perfect.

Shit my wife has said to our cat, part 4

- You are a lap real-estate mogul, Miss Kitty. You got some supreme above-the-knee property.

- I’d like to remind you, my favorite little bastard, that you may have International Cat Day, but we queers have a full month. So take that.

- Eat it. Paper-mâché your fucking heart

- Did you hear it? Did you hear it speak? That which haunts the halls of this apartment… (cat: meows). Shut up.

- (Listening to disco) Are you feeling the love vibration tonight, Miss Kitty? Is that why your tootsies are like this?

- You come to us. For pets? For knowledge? For Wisdom?….. For…. pets?

- I feel like being obnoxious tonight, like you are every night you little…… shit…. head? I couldn’t think of something terrible to call her.

- You fucking motherfucker. You opportunistic little bitch. You Machiavellian motherfucker. GO WRITE SOME LATIN.

- Sic semper tyrannis ad mortum, Miss Kitty. You’re the ’ tyrannis’ in this situation. I’m the ‘ad mortum.’

- Happiness can be found outside the lap, Miss Kitty. That is the way of enlightenment. Happiness can be found without stepping on my titties, and making them hurt with your toe beans.

- I peer in your eyes in the middle of the night. I know what your soul is.

- HA! Now I can leave the floor without feeling guilty! Neener Neener, you shithead!

- You’re famous, Miss Kitty! You got famous by doing nothing but being an object of ridicule. (long pause) We toyed with fire, I know…

- I say so many mean things to you and I don’t take them back.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

medieval blogging

the town crier, riding in on a pony: hear ye, hear ye! the great Zachariah Gayndam, user of Tumblre, Warrior of Sociale Justice, doth decree, upon his trusted Followeres and Mutuales,

“O Wyrm?”

Lauren: I’m 100% certain [Sven] is still out there. He made it to space hospital, he’s good.

Joaquim: He’s fine.

Lauren: Him and Slav are still trying to take down Altea.

Joaquim: It’s super hard to hear, but you actually hear Slav say, like, “Don’t worry guys, I’ve got Sven. You guys get back to your lives.
Skyline {VII}

Originally posted by tom-cinnamonroll-holland

Warnings: Language, panic attack

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Guys!!!! This is the last part of Skyline.  Like, for real this time.  I’m so sad to see it end, but I’m also so happy that it’s had such success, and I can’t thank you guys enough for that.  You are all so so wonderful, and you have all my love.  As usual, I want to give a shout out to Zoe and Jen for reading my drafts and helping me edit and brainstorm, as well as encouraging me to write.  As for all of you, I hope you’ll forgive me for all the angst that I’ve hit you guys with (remember when Skyline was self-indulgent fluff lmao), and I really hope this makes up for it a bit.  In other news, tonight is the Spidereyhes Sleepover!!!!!!!!  All the info on the sleepover can be found here, as well as info about the livestream, which will start at 7pm PST.  I’ll post the link on here!! Zoe, Jen, and I will be discussing all kinds of things, answering questions, and talking about Skyline, so be sure to drop by!!! Also, if you have any questions about Skyline or anything else that you want answered, send it in!!!! It’s not too late yall.  Again, thank you so much, and I hope you’ve enjoyed Skyline as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

skyline: a mixtape

{part i} {part ii} {part iii} {part iv} {part v}

Sitting up in your bed, you stared at the window, not sure of how to react to seeing Spider-Man’s masked face through the glass.  Throwing back your covers, you quietly walked over to the window, grabbing a hoodie that Peter had lent you as you passed your desk.  Sliding the glass panel up, you climbed out onto the metal fire escape, slipping on and zipping up Peter’s hoodie to protect you from the cold.

The superhero stood where he had first stood, the night he saved your life and blew up Vizzini’s all those months ago.  And there, to his right, were the flower pots that he had tripped over the first time he came back for you.  Those stairs were where you would sit and draw while he watched your fingers fly across the page, amazed at the pictures you created.  Behind him was the railing that you would lean against as you looked at the Queens skyline together.  This fire escape was your entire relationship condensed, the one location where you were allowed to be with each other.  If you used your imagination, you could almost see every single night playing out in front of your eyes.  Spider-Man, with a bendy straw underneath his mask.  Spider-Man, attempting to draw you in the moonlight.  Spider-Man, his hand on your waist and the other in your hair. Spider-Man.

Keep reading

Peep is a hearing aid. It is still getting used to this, because it used to be a regular dragon. And now it is a full-time employed hearing aid dragon, all two inches of it, perched on its sorcerer’s ear.

The sorcerer is named Vigil, which is short for Vigilante. Peep tried to point out to its hapless human that being named after their secret identity is a terrible way of keeping it a secret, but Vigil continues to be named Vigil. (It is ridiculous, in Peep’s eyes, how often its good advice goes ignored.) Vigil’s often-changing gender was another surprise to get used to, since dragons don’t tend to have genders.

“What’s a gender for?” Peep had questioned Vigil on its first day of work as it tried to find the best position to stay hidden behind her ear, while holding onto her piercings for balance.

Vigil hummed thoughtfully before answering, “Decoration, I suppose.”

That might have been a joke, but Peep wasn’t sure.

But being genderfluid was a feature of Vigil, not a problem. No, it was the vigilante thing that was the problem. Every night after the labs had been shut up for the day the other apprentice sorcerers would head off to eat dinner together, or watch some shark jousting at the Oceania, or do other normal activities like flying. Meanwhile, Vigil would murmur a few words under their breath to shield their face with a spell, tuck the lab’s resident firekeeping dragon into their sleeve, and go out to foil evil.

It was a terrible hobby, which Vigil would know if they ever took Peep’s advice.

The root of the problem, Peep had decided, was that Vigil was so caught up with how they could that they never considered whether they should. Yes, Peep’s human was remarkably clever, anyone could see that. Vigil didn’t let the fact that they were only an apprentice sorcerer get in their way— they dyed their hair to look like it had been turned blue by frequent exposure to magic, had Peep sit behind their ear to make the quiet world more understandable, and coaxed the lab’s firekeeping dragon to stay in their sleeve and breathe fire on command. With their face hidden, Vigil passed admirably for a fully grown sorcerer.

But they weren’t one, and that was going to get them in trouble one day if Peep didn’t figure out a way to help them.

“You’re going to get hurt,” Peep informed Vigil as he piled boxes into his arms.

“What are you talking about?” Vigil muttered, balancing the pile with precision. “Nothing in the back room is dangerous.” He sidestepped another apprentice coming into the storage room and emerged behind the counter.

“Not in the back room. You’re going to get hurt while out foiling evil if you keep it up. This woman says thank you and keep the change, and the rude guy next to her is trying to get your attention by snapping.”

Vigil dropped the change into the floating tip jar and turned to the man.

Shifts at the lab’s storefront, where anyone could purchase potion ingredients and charms prepared by the apprentices in the labs, were Peep’s busiest times as a hearing aid. Vigil could hear well enough if it was one well-enunciated person alone speaking, but the chaos of the labs, with everyone talking at once, meant he relied on Peep the most.

“He wants one mud-repelling charm,” Peep reported as the man talked, “and make it quick because he’s an asshole, or because he got mud on his very expensive shoes, something like that.”

Vigil made his thoughtful face while listening, one of the many ways he filled the pauses before he could respond in situations like these. “Sorry, we’re out of those. Can I get you anything else?”

The man did not want anything else.

“He said a bad word at you,” Peep said virtuously, because it considered cursing very terrible unless it was done by someone it approved of.

“I could tell,” Vigil muttered, watching the man storm out.

Peep itself was watching someone else enter the store— a rather short knight-in-training in a very unfashionable cap. Peep considered itself an expert on fashion, as well as on poetry and Vigil’s safety. It was because of its expertise on that latter subject that it noticed the knight-in-training. It watched them go right to the shelves of magical candy on the other side of the room, and approved.

“This little kid at the counter wants ingrediants for a stink potion,” Peep repeated absentmindedly as it mulled over the newcomer, and Vigil went back into the storeroom.

He mumbled the ingredients to himself as he found them on the shelves. “Glass eggs, spider eyes—”

“Gross,” Peep commented. “You need friends.”

“—black-spotted mushrooms. Friends would make this less gross how?”

“They wouldn’t. But they might keep you out of trouble.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t need any. I like trouble.” Vigil went back to the counter and put the ingredients in the girl’s basket.

Peep took the opportunity to notice the knight-in-training again (they were still examining the candies) before turning back to its duties as a hearing aid.“She says thanks, and also that you need friends.”

“Quit it,” Vigil hissed, and greeted a regular customer who signed their request for a fever-reducing charm.

Peep quitted it for all of ten seconds before Vigil was searching the dusty back corners where the healing charms were stored. “You’re only a baby sorcerer, you can’t go around foiling evil all by yourself. Eventually evil will foil back.”

Vigil objected strongly to being called a baby sorcerer. “I hired a hearing aid, not a babysitter.”

“Wrong,” shouted Peep, who loved being right. “You hired a dragon, and a dragon always knows best.”

“Dragons also always live with several nest-mates, which you don’t have, so you’re one to talk about needing friends.” Vigil snatched a fever charm from where it had fallen on the floor with more violence than necessary and straightened up. There was a guilty pause. Dragons are excellent at telling when pauses are guilty. “I mean…” Vigil said quietly.

“Everyone needs friends,” Peep said, trying not to sound like it was going to cry. Unfortunately, dragons are as terrible at not sounding emotional as they are excellent at discerning guilty pauses.

Vigil stroked the tiny ridges of Peep’s back with one finger. “Hey, I didn’t mean that.” His voice was soft.

“I could have nest-mates if I wanted,” Peep said, still sniffling. Dragons’ lying abilities fall squarely between their skills at recognizing guilty pauses and not sounding emotional.

“Of course you could,” Vigil soothed. “You’re the best dragon I know.”

“Including Crackle?” Peep asked, wanting to be sure. “Crackle isn’t even that great of a firekeeper. I’m much better at being a hearing aid than it is at making fire.” Crackle had three nest-mates and its very own nesting hallow in the chimney over the lab’s fireplace, and was very conceited about it in Peep’s opinion.

Vigil abstained from passing judgement on Crackle. “You’re the best hearing aid a sorcerer could have. I’m sorry for what I said.”

Peep blew its nose on a lock of blue hair. “Ok.”

Vigil winced but didn’t comment on that. At the counter he gave the customer the fever charm and they exchanged a few words in sign language that Peep didn’t need to aid in, giving it time to search the room again for the knight-in-training, who was now carrying over a jar of blue candies to purchase. They looked at the apprentices behind the counter, all busy— and their eyes slid right over Vigil’s face without recognition.

Peep frowned to itself. They would never recognize Vigil as the hero who had saved them the other night on their own, not when Vigil had hid his face so well. Clearly, Peep had to intervene, for Vigil’s own good.

Pushing Vigil’s hair aside, Peep stretched itself out as far as it could without falling off his ear, and flapped its green wings urgently. The knight-in-training, not looking, didn’t notice. Humans were oblivious.

Peep flapped its wings some more, and puffed out some violet smoke. On the other side of the counter, the knight-in-training’s eyes flicked to the fading puff of violet in surprise, and followed it down to the tiny green dragon preening with victory, and then to the sorcerer it was perched on.

“You!” Kit shouted.

Peep quickly returned to its hearing aid position. “That knight person over there says ‘you!’ very loudly,” it told Vigil.

“Fuck,” Vigil whispered, trying to avoid the knight’s glare. “That’s the squire I helped the other night! How did they recognize me?”

“Big mystery,” Peep said unhelpfully.

The knight-in-training pushed their way closer to Vigil’s section of the counter, not to be ignored. “You’re that vigilante!”

“They say you’re a vigilante, and probably good friend material.” Peep gave the knight-in-training a wave. They waved back.

Vigil batted at his ear. “Stop that, stop being friendly! I’m a masked vigilante, people aren’t supposed to know who I am.”

The knight-in-training raised an eyebrow, looking at Vigil’s name tag. “In that case, why is your name literally the first half of the word vigilante? Doesn’t seem very masked to me.”

Peep crowed victoriously. “New friend! Can we keep them?”

the other stories about these characters can be found in my tag here. thanks for reading!

If It’s Scripted, It Should Be Captioned

Dear Content Creators,

If you’re making a video and following a script, there is absolutely no reason for that video to not have captions included (and I’m not talking about the auto-generated kind). Be kind to your deaf and hard-of hearing audience (or hell, just people who don’t want to turn on the sound) and include the freaking captions!

Listen.
Do you hear that? Do you hear Him?
He is calling you.

The waters rage; He is louder.
The mountains rumble; He is louder.
The winds howl; He is louder.
The voices scream; still, He is louder.

Listen.

If you’re going to run,
run Home.

He is waiting.

BTS reaction: their child’s first word being appa

Jin:

Originally posted by rapdaegu

You were all in the kitchen together; you were feeding the baby, Jin was sitting at the table, just watching. It wasn’t going too well, the little one was spitting out the food, smearing it all over the table. The baby was making an absolute mess and you were already pretty frustrated.
Suddenly, the baby also started to cry, it cried out “appa!!!” and sobbed. Jin immediately stood up and  went to take his baby into his arms. He smiled widely, looking at you.
“Did you hear? Did you hear that? He felt really happy! He looked back at the baby in his arms, who had since calmed down, only some tears still running down its face. Jin tried to feed the little one once again, and this time, it did eat.

Yoongi

Originally posted by cyyphr


Babies were supposed to stop crying every few hours during night time, but for some reason, his nine month old baby was now, at point 4 o'clock, crying loudly. He hadn’t actually woken up at first, it was you who had to wake him and remind him that it was his turn.
Now he stood there, next to her little bed, grumpily. He glared at the little angel, who was still sobbing even as it looked at him.
“Alright, what do you need..?” He said in a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes. The baby reached its tiny arms towards him, “appa, appa!” It squealed. Yoongi smiled, all tiredness suddenly washed away. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, hearing his baby talk, and hearing “appa” be its first word made him happy, made him feel giddy. He took the baby into his arms, feeling all warm inside now, and held the little one close, rocking its body back and forth.
You found him the next morning, sleeping in a chair in the kid’s room, with the baby still in his arms.

Namjoon

Originally posted by chimcheroo

He was writing some stuff down, lyrics for a possible future song. The baby was sitting in between his legs, giggling at how funny Namjoon looked. Namjoon would quietly mumble the words to himself, the baby trying to repeat those words, but failing miserably. Every word of gibberish his child said made Namjoon very happy, and he found it so adorable! He decided to take a small break and put the sheet of paper on the table. He was stretching, yawning in the process, but something made him stop and freeze midway – the baby suddenly, on its own, said “appa”. Namjoon took his arms back down, to his child, hugging the baby. He called you over, so you could hear and experience your child’s first time speaking proper words as well. This special moment not only made him tear up and insanely proud, but it also gave him motivation and inspiration for his work.

Hoseok

Originally posted by myloveseokjin


He would be the happiest person on this planet. He was just sitting in the living room, on the couch, with his little baby in his arms, when the baby suddenly started ‘talking’. At first it was just some kind of gibberish, but then it said, mostly clearly, “Appa” And Hoseok immediately showed a big smile. With the baby still held tightly in his arms, he ran towards you, encouraging your 8 month old little sunshine to “please say it again, just once more, for mummy” He was seriously over the moon and beaming with happiness because of it.

Jimin

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

You were sitting with him in the living room. He was just watching TV, but you were busy with the baby, playing with it.
“Come on, say mummy, you can do it!” You tried to encourage the child, Jimin insisting that the little one was too young to talk already.
“Mu-mmy.” You kept trying, but the baby didn’t want any of that. You were about to give up when it said “Appa!” Jimin looked at you two and started laughing. He did move closer to you, to not miss any further development on this, but he thought that it was too cute and too funny that the baby had said appa instead of what you were trying to teach it.

Taehyung

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

He was out grocery shopping when it happened. He picked up an item of food and leaned down, over his baby, saying in a cute voice: “Yes, let’s get this too, for mummy, hm? Mummy loves this!” He poked the baby’s nose, at which the little one giggled and said “Appa!”. At first he just stared at the baby, a bit shocked, as it had never pronounced any words clearly before, but a moment later he caught himself, and smiled lovingly at the baby. He kissed his child’s cheek, and immediately called you, to tell you about this. He even tried to play with the baby until it would repeat the word, he felt so proud in this moment.

Jungkook

Originally posted by baebsaes


He was on tour, and you missed him dearly, so you decided to skype with him one day. Your baby, which was around 6 months now, leaned against your chest.
When Jungkook accepted the skype call, and saw his baby, his face immediately lit up. He made a cute, silly face at it and, in a cute voice, said “Hello!” He also greeted you, and you talked for a bit, before your baby reached out with its little arm, putting its hand on the screen, where Jungkook’s face was, and said in a weak voice “appa”. The baby started to cry, wanting to be held by Jungkook. When Jungkook saw his baby’s actions and heard it say its first word, he teared up, starting to cry as well. He missed out on so much while he was away on tour. If he wasn’t so busy, he would have had the time to be an actual dad, to hold his child, hear his child’s first word in person… but he was away and missed out on it all.

~Admin Min Holypuff my first work on this blog yeey

You. Need. To. VER.I.FY. ME!

I work call center support for wireless services in a local telecommunications company. Our company provides a service called Lifeline. The majority of Lifeline customers CALLING(Not ALL, just the ones calling in) are incredibly unstable, difficult to work with, hostile, paranoid, sometimes just plain verbally violent, and much much more!

I just took this call a few calls back and have been typing this up between helping customers with all their facilities in order. I’ll be (M)Me and she’ll be (LL)Lifeline Lady.

M: Thank you for calling WirelessSupport, this is Me speaking, how can I help you?
LL: Hey, can you hear me?
M: I can hear you very well. How may I help you?
LL: Let me turn this up so he can’t hear me. I hear a TV becoming noticably louder in the background, but not to obnoxious levels. Can you still hear me okay dear?
M: Yes.

LL: Okay. So this guy upstairs, he’s been hacking my phone, and my TV, and well anything he can find of mine. He keeps deleting my voicemails, I need you to help me get them back. How do I get them back?CnUgetThmBck4MeINEEDTHEMNOW! Basically screechy gibberish at the end.

These could be voicemails of a lost one, doctors messages which if missed are the end of the world for Lifeline customers, big emotional stuff. I prepare for the worst, or I thought I did…

M: Sadly, if voicemails have been deleted and you don’t have a phone model that saves them, they are gone.
LL: I have the SIM card. They were saved on the SIM card. You need to tell me how to recover them from the SIM card.
M: Ma'am, Voicemails have never been saved on the SIM card. A SIM can barely hold one standard quality photo or a handful of contacts, but definitely never voicemail.
LL: How do you know what I did and didn’t save on MY. SIM card?
M: Again, a SIM card does not have enough room to save any audio or video files to it. If they were deleted from the voicemail system and you didn’t have them saved to the phone or computer(We allow customer to easily download their voicemails to permanently save) those voicemails, are sadly, gone without a chance of recovery.

I was prepared for this. She starts SCREEEEECHING.

LL: YOU! DDNVERROFIGHMEAND#F(&VFBNW(QPVNWVSVN<SDBG(BPV$EKKHHHHHHH.
M: Ma'am, Ma'am, Ma'am. I understand losing voicemails, especially sentimental ones that can’t be replaced can be devastating, but I need you to calm down and speak a little softer if we’re to look into this more or you need more help. Again, I’m sorry, but can you repeat what you said?

Voice quivering with anger…

LL: YOU! DID! NOT! VERIFY ME! BY! MY! NAME! OR PASSWORD! OR PIN! YOU ARE WORKING ON MYYYYYYYY STUFF. WITHOUTVERIFYINGME. I SHOULD HAVE YOUR JOB! I TELL YOU I AM BEING F'NG HACKED YOU F'ING JUST START THROWING MY INFORMATION AROUND!!!!!!! YOU. NEED. TO. VER.I.FY. ME!“

I couldn’t miss a beat. I have a chance.

M: Ma'am. I have not asked for your name, nor your phone number. We have not discussed ANY personal information. Please tell me why I need to verify you to tell you that something that is deleted, is going to remain deleted because it is not possible to undelete or recover it.

I didn’t miss a beat. I don’t think.

LL: Ugh. Change my voicemail PIN to something more secure.

Devil smile.

M: That is a very good idea to change the password to something much more secure if you believe you are being hacked. You may want to turn up the TV a little more though, because after Iiiii… verify you, you’ll need to tell me what PIN you want.

I spent TWENTY FIVE minutes verifying her through everything method on the account, telling her unfortunately because hacking was mentioned in the call, I had to verify every piece of personal information on the account before I could make ANY changes. Name, Address, E-mail, Old e-mail, Secondary Address, Password, Security PIN, Driver’s License, answer to 1 security question and the last 4 of her SSN. The longer it took, the more exasperated she got, and we kept having to ask each other to repeat ourselves because the TV was now quite loud.

In the end I got her setup with a new PIN, updated some personal information and security checks that we discovered we very out of date and she never mentioned the deleted voicemails once after the whole "verify me” explosion.

I would encourage them to key into the essence and spirit of ‘Star Trek’ that has made it the legacy it is — and that’s looking across the way to the person sitting in front of you and realizing you are the same, that they are not separate from you, and we are all one.


That’s something ‘Star Trek’ has always upheld and I completely believe that is why it’s been a mainstay in society in the hearts of so many people for so many decades. I would encourage them to look past their opinions and social conditioning and key into what we’re doing here — which is telling a story about humanity that will hopefully bring us all together.


And it’s hard to understand and appreciate ‘Star Trek’ if you don’t understand and appreciate that. It’s one of the foundational principles of ‘Star Trek’ and I feel if you miss that then you miss the legacy itself.


I’m incredibly proud to be the lead of this show and be at the forefront of an iteration of ‘Star Trek’ that’s from the eyes of a black woman that’s never been done before, though obviously there’s been other forms of diversity that have been innovated by ‘Trek.’


I feel like we’re taking another step forward, which I think all stories should do. We should go boldly where nobody has gone before and stay true to that.

— 

Sonequa Martin-Green on Star Trek: Discovery - June 22, 2017 Entertainment Weekly (X)