i don't understand oh my god

  • Me, before my diagnosis: *Writes 'sincerely Davey' my only first person story which is meant to be a diary kept of Davey Jacob's thought's which, ergo, reflects how I think other peoples stream's of consciousness work. The story also has Davey expressing frustration with not understanding people, being bullied, seeing things too black and white, and feeling left out from his peers*
  • Commenter: I love autistic Davey! He's supposed to have Aspergers right?
  • Me: What are they possibly taking about?????
  • Me: *gets diagnosed*
  • Me: oh.

acceptable ways to correct yourself if you misgender a trans person

  • “I went to the store with her–him”
  • “He and I–sorry she and I went to the movies”
  • “He’s–I mean they’re a big fan of Marvel Comics”

not acceptable ways to correct yourself if you misgender a trans person

  • “She really likes–oh my god I mean he, I’m so sorry, I just don’t have it down yet, you need to give me time, I mean, I’m getting it, I promise, it’s just so hard sometimes, and I don’t even know where that came from, and I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, you just have to go easy on me, I’ve never done this before, it’s just, I’m getting it, it won’t happen again, it’s just hard, you get it, right?”

this has been a psa

  • Leo: you guys have the most epic bromance
  • Leo: if one of you was a girl you'd have been fucking on the arena floor ten minutes ago
  • Percy & Jason: ...
  • Leo: oh my god you already have haven't you
  • Zack: *walks beside Ray and glaces at her* Ya'know, shouldn't girls your age be freaking out over blood actually?
  • Ray: *stops walking and looks at Zack blankly*...What?
  • Zack: I mean, aren't girls normally afraid of blood?
  • Ray: .....Zack....Do you know the term period and what it means?
  • Zack: ..A what?
  • Ray: Oh my god

me: i-

Based on this post by @vikturi-katsforov

Ok now, I’m sorry I swear I didn’t know what was I doing, or maybe yes, just for to do something but study. Aaaaand that post inspired me really hard… lol

Someone stop my sinful hand

Newtina’s theme song is ‘Love Don’t Roam’ by Murray Gold

God, the lyrics are so perfect:

“Well, I’ve roamed about this Earth
With just a suitcase in my hand,
And I’ve met some bog-eyed Joe’s,
I’ve met the blessed, I’ve met the damned.
But of all the strange, strange creatures
In the air, at sea, on land,
Oh, my girl, my girl, my precious girl,
I love you, you understand.” 

Just listen to the full song! 

Missing (Saeyoung x MC fic) - Part 13

A/N: Trigger warning on the latter part of this chapter. If you find it uncomfortable, please stop reading.  I have tried very hard to make it as ambiguous but understandable as possible, but if you somehow feel bad about it, then please know that I didn’t mean to T_T


“707, I’ve got a visual,” Vanderwood’s voice spoke in the communicator.  “About nine hundred fifty meters northwest.  It’s beyond the next hill.  Keep to the trail; I’ll let you know when to turn west.”

“Copy that,” Saeyoung replies in a quiet tone.

They are close.  Vanderwood had set out to find a good vantage point, and assured Saeyoung that he will provide cover as discreetly as possible.  

“Unknown, how are connections?”

“All secured,” Saeran replies, his palms resting on either side of the laptop on the car hood, the program awaiting the last string of commands.  “We’re ready.”

Saeyoung stiffens and clenches his fist, and checks his gun in his holster.  “Keep tabs on my coordinates, Unknown.  Delta, keep your distance.  Do not initiate fire.  Wait for my word.”

“Roger that,” the Delta leader responds.

Saeyoung turns to the tracker.  “Thank you for your help.  You may go back with the rest now; I don’t want to further endanger you.”  He then crouches to give the dog a quick rub behind its ear.  “You too, buddy.  Thank you for helping us.”

The dog’s tail wagged, and licked his face.  Smiling, he gave one last pat on its head and stood up.

Saeyoung shook the man’s hand. “Dude, you’re so awesome.  I want you to teach me all those tracking techniques after this.”

“Sure,” the man smiled back. “Jung Ji-hoon.  You know where to—“

All of a sudden, the dog straightened; its ears in full attention, tail pointing forward.  The tracker squinted a bit, and turned to Saeyoung. “Someone’s coming,” the tracker said, placing a hand on the dog’s neck to stop it from barking and revealing their location.  

“Run back,” Saeyoung urges the man.  “I’ll take care of it.”

With a curt nod the tracker went back down the trail, leaving Saeyoung alone in the wilderness. He raises his hand to speak to his communicator.  “Vanderwood, our tracker noticed something approaching.  Do you have visual?”

After a few seconds, Vanderwood spoke.  “Yes. Male, wearing a beige coat. Approaching you in five hundred meters northwest.  I think he came from the facility.  I’ll cover you, Seven.”

“Thank you,” Saeyoung then glanced left and right, looking for a way to approach the man without being seen.  With all the leaves scattered on the ground, it was hard to be stealthy, so he decided to just wait it out from behind a tree.

“Three hundred meters,” Vanderwood warned Saeyoung.  This prompted him to peek from his hiding place, and he curses himself for not having glasses again.  However, the man looked awfully familiar, like someone whom he has met before.

But once the man got near enough, Saeyoung’s eyebrows furrowed.  Mr. Park?  

“Saaaaeeeyounggg~” you pranced towards Saeyoung.  You found him sitting on his computer chair.  He looks up at you and smiles.  You give him a big grin, and sit yourself on his lap.

“M~~C~~,” he mimics the tone you used to call him. He leans in to kiss your neck, which made you giggle playfully.  You then pulled away and took out two tickets from your bag, showing it to him.  

“Let’s watch a movie! My boss said I did a really good job today, and the company gave me these!”

Saeyoung grins.  “A date! A date!  I want to watch Onthestellar!”

All the puzzle pieces fell into place.  Saeyoung felt his rage bubble in his chest, instinctively taking his gun out of its holster.  He blames himself partially because he should have taken time to research about who his wife is working with, but he respected her wishes to not pry into people’s information for personal reasons.

Mr. Park continued on the trail, not knowing what lay in wait for him. Saeyoung stilled his breathing, putting his infiltration training to use.  He follows the man with his eyes, but remained completely still under the cover of foliage.

Once Mr. Park passed by his hiding spot, he steps out and places his gun behind the man’s head.  He unlocks the safety switch with an audible click, which made the man stop dead in his tracks.

“Hello, Mr. Park,” Saeyoung’s voice was laced with venom.

“Mr. Choi.” The man spoke, raising his hands in the air.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have no time for pleasantries,” he spoke, digging the muzzle of the gun on his head.  “You will tell me everything you know.”



“It can’t be..!”

It can’t be.  He was a dream. A nightmare.  A childhood nightmare that haunted you for years, but here he was, standing in front of you.  You stare at him in horror; the memories of your dream coming in flashes right before your eyes, as if pieces of your broken self were attaching themselves together, like shattering glass played backwards.

“Oh, you poor little darling…” he crooned, making your heart skip in unadulterated fear.  “It seems that you have forgotten something very important.  Here, let me remind you.”

His hand reaches down and grabs you by your head.

You almost felt bile rise up in your throat in fear.  As more and more parts of your shattered self comes back to place, you suddenly remember everything in painful detail.

“P-please”, a middle-aged woman pleaded, clutching a six-year-old girl in her arms. “Just let me take her home…”

A taller, younger man loomed over both, sneering.  “Why do I have to care for a runt?  Well, it can watch while I—destroy—you,” he grabs the woman by the hair and pulls her head back, making her yelp in pain.  The girl notices her distress, and watches her worriedly.  

“I beg of you,” the woman kept pleading, “she’s got nothing to do with this…please…”

The man then hoists the woman upwards by the hair, which made her cry out, and the girl was thrown off balance and landed on all fours near the dumpster in the alley.  She saw how the man’s knife grazed on the woman’s arm as she tried to fight him back, drawing blood.  The knife flew and landed at the girl’s feet.


The knife glinted bright red, and reflected her eyes.  The woman started screaming in pain as the man beat her, throwing punches at her face, once, twice, thrice…her nose is bleeding…her legs started to give way…the girl has lost count on how many times the man hit her teacher, and she knows, that being hit so hard like that must hurt.


She picks up the knife.  The man kept on punching her, but her teacher wasn’t moving anymore.  Her teacher’s body lay flat on the ground, while the man was straddling her, his knees on either sides of her hips.  He kept punching, his fists landing everywhere in her body, but she lays limp.


Without thinking, she drove the knife at the man’s neck.  

The man froze, his mouth open, but no voice came out.

The man fell sideways with a wet thud, and the girl followed him with her gaze.  As she looked down, she noticed dark liquid flowed in rivulets along her arms and legs. She curiously stared as the ground bloomed red, staining her white shoes.

She then heard a steady pace coming from the other side of the alley, and in the dark she saw his long coat, and the lighted cigar.

“Help,” the girl said, “my teacher needs help.”

The man stopped in his tracks, his face contorted in rage.

He reaches out to grab the girl and everything went black.

You hear your own screams in your ears, your eyes wide but not really seeing.  Memories of that fateful night came down on you like a deluge, and you can’t seem to get out for air.  You feel yourself suffocating, your heart torturing you with its deafening drumbeat.

The Silence boss laughed out loud, hunching over you, then pulls your hair to yank your head back as he examines you.

“Ah yes.  It’s those eyes, I remember.  You were crying this much back then.”

He then pushes you face down, the side of your face hitting the cold floor.  You kept sobbing, your mind hanging by a thread at the precipice of sanity.  He lets you go, but you stayed with your face on the floor, unable to do anything but sob at the sudden realization.

I killed somebody.

“I am so glad you remembered,” the man spoke again, his voice thick with anger.  “I am glad that you remembered the night you killed my son.

He then grabs you by the hair again, pulling you up, and you yelp in pain.  He brings his face close to yours, scrutinizing you.  He runs his finger along your cheek, down your neck, and grabs you by it, and you shuddered in fear as he tightens his grip.  You found yourself gasping for air.

“Although I am very curious,” he murmured, his breath stinks of cigar. “I know I killed you.  Why, why are you alive?!

The man tosses you to the floor, and you yelp in pain as you hit your shoulder against the wall.  As much as you willed yourself to remember anything that happened after, nothing came but darkness.  This scared you; even more so than the man standing in front of you.  You couldn’t control your sobbing; both from fear and from the pain.

“All these years,” the man spoke once again, pacing around the room.  He lifts a hand and it meets your left cheek, eliciting a scream from you. You feel your world spinning, and you taste blood in your mouth.  

“All these years, you were alive, and my son stayed dead!” The pain on your right cheek came all of a sudden before you can even recover, and you feel blood trickling down the side of your mouth.  All that came out of your mouth were your uncontrolled sobs, but your mind cried, and cried loud; stop, please stop, I didn’t know what I was doing oh God please stop IT HURTS–

The man crouches in front of you and roughly cups your chin in his hand, pulling your face mere inches from his.

“It’s a shame,” the old man spoke, “you look so cute.”

Your mind screamed in disgust as he forced a kiss on your lips, roughly kneading your arms with his hands.  His breath stank with cigar, and tried to fight him, kicking, screaming into his mouth. He was so much stronger than you.

You bit his lip.  He yelped in pain, pushed you away and looked at you with boiling rage, wiping blood off his cut lip.  You spat his blood on the ground, and tried to squirm farther away from him.

“You fucking bitch!” a loud smack met the side of your head, and your vision starts to blur.  Your ears rang, and you are slowly losing your sense of balance.  You unconsciously keep on using your legs to squirm farther away, even if you know it’s futile.  The wound on your calf had reopened, leaving stains of blood on the concrete floor.

Your body grows weaker every second.  You notice that your movements are starting to become slow, sluggish.  The man makes three steps towards you.  You look up at him as he lifts his hand, holding a gun, pointed right at you.

You felt yourself fall into hopelessness.  You close your eyes, and tears fell down your cheeks.

Saeyoung, your mind called out, even though you know he will never hear.  

I am so sorry, Saeyoung…

I…I don’t know who I am.  

I don’t know what I am.

I will not be able to survive this.

I am so, so sorry I can’t go to the space station with you.

Please make sure to eat on time, and throw out your trash every day.

I tried, Saeyoung; I really, really tried…

When you find me…please don’t cry…



Your eyes squeezed shut. You know that sound all too well.

I love you.


A/N:  Oh goodness, this was so hard to write.  Again, I apologize if this may have caused some discomfort for some…I wanted to make it as realistic as possible…I had to edit out the original composition because it was just too dark T_T

Oh goodness I need a lot of fluff fanfics after this T_T you guys have any recommendations?

Part 12 here!

Part 14 is up!


messing around with more new PV aus 

i imagine félicité has hermione granger hair; it’s fine when it’s scraped back into submission but the second it’s set free oh my god. she comes from a very wealthy, reserved and prestigious family, basically just wants to be left alone by everyone forever, doesn’t understand how to flirt and never ceases to be appalled by her miraculous costume.

marin (???) is a cutie pie with big dreams of running a fashion label. he’s desperate to get félicité out of her clothes…….. and into his own designs. he can’t even look in her direction without imagining a million outfits to sew for her. please let him dress you, félicité? please???

he’s also appalled by chat noir’s costume. he constantly wastes his Lucky Charm on conjuring up a blanket to cover her up. have a shred of dignity, you bootleg catwoman fashion disaster.

anonymous asked:

i'm a native-born texan who's lived in austin and dallas, and i've been to galveston. there's this museum there that's literally inside of a ship. i forget what ship it is (it's been years since i was there) but it's really fucking cool. you can walk around it and go into whatever you call the pilot's seat of a ship (where the ship captain does his shit). when i was there, some navy bigwig was there and was giving out autographs. it was surreal

oh my god

Something I like about Keith and Lance’s relationship (romantic or not) and just about their characters in general is how opposite they are? Like obviously they’re rivals and are written as such, plus they’re literally red vs. blue, but more specifically (also bear with me I’m not the best at putting these types of headcanons in words):

Lance is the type of character who after initially meeting him you think you’ve seen all of him. He’s cocky and flirty and he seems like he always 100% puts it all out on the table, don’t-like-it-too-bad kinda deal. But what I really like about Lance and why he’s the most relatable character for me is that he’s more multifaceted than that and the more you get to know him you realize how much you actually don’t know him. It’s confirmed he has a big family which is where I’m sure his little façade comes from, but I also think his family is the reason he has a sweet and understanding and caring side.

Then on the other hand you have Keith, the token “Mr. Brooding and Mysterious” of the group. Meeting him is more daunting because you don’t know what you’ll get out of him. After all, he is the rebel who got booted from the garrison and has a reputation. However, what I think is interesting about Keith, for lack of a better term, is that it’s Not That Deep. I do think there are some shadier bits in his past (he IS an orphan…we’ve all seen disney movies enough to know that’s like, the saddest backstory), BUT I also think he’s just an introverted chaotic good who is doing his best to do what’s right. He’s a simple guy, really.

So basically, you think what you see is what you get with Lance and meanwhile Keith is a mystery to be solved when actually it’s more the opposite? At least that’s how I see it. And I think that’s just another piece to their chemistry together, like they complement each other so well. I really can’t wait to rewatch voltron and pick apart everyone’s characterization some more, cause boy do I love my space gays.