the quote is probably not right

  • sun woo: between throwing ji dwi in a dumpster and falling in love with him, the audience chose love? FUCK YOU ALL.
  • sun woo: there's a perfectly good dumpster right here. look at it! IT'S DISGUSTING! there's old food, there's probably dog shit...
  • ji dwi: *lifts up dumpster cover* here, let me help with with that.
  • sun woo: thanks, sweetheart.
  • ji dwi: no problem, love.
  • sun woo: YOU GUYS REALLY FUCKED ME. YOU REALLY LET ME DOWN. I WOULD HAVE THROWN HER SO HARD IN THE DUMPSTER! *storms off*
  • sun woo: *runs back to ji dwi and makes out with him* i love you, baby.
  • ji dwi: love you too.

i know i’m probably Overly Attached To Fictional Characters or whatever but i always have this weird feeling like i’m trying to convey all my Emotions across to their fictional dimension when i write for them, and the big rainbow heart feelings i get whenever anyone comments on my fic right now is pretty evenly split between “yay they like my writing" and the feeling like it’s boosting the signal. every time someone says “im so glad he is finally happy” or “look at my boy i love him” then im like, “hey, are you feeling this, in whatever plane of existence you are on? can you hear how much we love you?”

voltron based off of things my siblings have said

Shiro: can you guys be any louder? *pidge shrieks*

 Lance: whoever writes me the best eulogy right now is allowed to my funeral 

Keith: I can’t remember anything from my childhood, probably because it was terrible

Pidge: I love you guys so much but please shut the fuck up I’m trying to sleep 

Hunk: mom won’t make brownies? rude and sad. 

 Allura: if I could abandon you guys, I would. But I can’t; so I love you I guess.

Coran: mm, I might be wrong about this, but that sounds like depression

  • McGonagall: So. Who broke the tea pot? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.
  • Hagrid: I did. I broke it.
  • McGonagall: No. No you didn't. Albus?
  • Dumbledore: Don't look at me. Look at Severus.
  • Snape: What?! I didn't break it.
  • Dumbledore: Oh that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?
  • Severus: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.
  • Dumbledore: Suspicious.
  • Snape: No it's not!
  • Sprout: If it matters, probably not, but Horace was the last one to use it.
  • Slughorn: Liar! I don't even drink that crap!
  • Sprout: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the tea cart earlier?
  • Slughorn: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that Pomona!
  • Hagrid: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it Minerva.
  • McGonagall: No! Who broke it?!
  • Snape: Minerva...Filius has been awfully quiet.
  • Flitwick: REALLY?!
  • [Everyone starts arguing]
  • McGonagall: [later] I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Good. It was getting a little too chummy around here.
There are a lot of things that seem like the end of the world. Like when the person you like stops talking to you once you sleep together. Or when you have to watch a person you’re supposed to be over date someone else and you realize that sharp pain in your chest probably means you’re not actually over them.

But what’s even harder is losing someone without getting to say goodbye and not having anyone to talk to about it. Or having to hurt someone you care about because you know what’s best for them and it’s not you.

There are so many times in our lives that our hearts will break. And the bad news is, one of those times will be worse than all the others. But the good news is, it’s probably not what you’re going through right now.
Houses as Tumblr Text Posts Part Two
  • Gryffindor: My last word will probably be either "whoops" or "shit"
  • Hufflepuff: yoU THINK YOU'RE REAL CUTE, DON'T YOU? REAL BLOODY CUTE, RIGHT?? I think so too
  • Ravenclaw: Eyebrow game strong? Psh, my eyeBAG game is strong. I'm fucking exhausted, haha oops
  • Slytherin: Science fact- The world around you is made up of protons, neutrons, morons, and electrons
6

People compared the United passenger to Rosa Parks. Parks’ niece shut that down.

  • On Thursday, the attorney for David Dao — who was brutally dragged off a supposedly overbooked United flight on Monday — referenced an email he received calling Dao the “Asian Rosa Parks." 
  • Shortly after, USA Today issued and deleted a tweet mischaracterizing the comparison to the civil rights icon
  • Once the comparison kept creeping up, Parks’ niece responded with an unequivocal hell no.
  • In an interview with TMZ, Urana McCauley, Parks’ niece, said "you cannot compare the two.”
  • “I think that what Dr. Dao is going to do is probably change the policy of United Airlines, but actually what my aunt did was change history,” McCauley said.  
  • She added, “A lot of people like to compare themselves to her or like others, but there is no comparison.” Read more (4/14/17 10:18 AM)

follow @the-movemnt

If we don’t end up together and we belong to other people please tell your kids about me. Tell your daughter to be fearless but also build walls around her so guys won’t break her heart like you broke mine. Tell your son to be tender and consistent in every decision, to listen to what his heart says and not what everybody else tells him to, like you did. Tell them that for every person there’s another person who would go through everything just to be with them, like I did for you. Teach them that giving up on the person who sees the world in their eyes just because times are hard will make them drown in regret, like you probably are right now. Most importantly teach them to be fighters and not quitters on that certain person who goes to hell and back, like I did.
  • [The coffee pot is found broken at 221b]
  • Eurus : So, who broke it? I'm not mad, I just want to know.
  • Molly : I did, I broke it -
  • Eurus : No. No, you didn't. Sherlock?
  • Sherlock : Don't look at me. Look at Mycroft.
  • Mycroft : What? I didn't break it.
  • Sherlock : Hmm. That's weird. How did you even know it was broken?
  • Mycroft : Because it's sitting right in front of us, and it's broken.
  • Sherlock : Suspicious.
  • Mycroft : No, it's not!
  • Mary : If it matters... probably not... but Irene was the last one to use it.
  • Irene : Liar! I don't even drink that crap.
  • Mary : Oh, really? Then what were you doing by the coffee table earlier?
  • Irene : I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Mary!
  • Molly : Alright, let's not fight. I broke it, let me pay for it, Eurus.
  • Eurus : No. Who broke it?
  • Greg : Well, John's been awfully quiet.
  • John : Really?
  • Greg : Yeah, really!
  • [Cut to Eurus in the room, the rest of them fighting in the background]
  • Eurus : I broke it. It burned my hand so I punched it. I predict ten minutes from now, they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.
Hello - Newt x Reader

Prompt: A little drabble! Soulmate AU where everyone is born with the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrist. Reader is completely fed up with her quest to find her soulmate, as the only hint she has is the incredibly vague black letters that have always been stamped across her wrist.

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, use of alcohol, harassment and unwanted advances

God, you hated your soulmate tattoo.

What sort of a soulmate tattoo was “hello”? You had detested it your entire life. What vague-ass higher power had decided when they gave you your tattoo to stop at “hello”? How would you know for sure when you met your soulmate? Couldn’t they have elaborated a little bit? Just a few more words? A proper sentence that you could actually recognize your soulmate with? But no, you were stuck with the most common greeting in the English language tattooed permanently into your skin. Hello. What absolute bullshit.

Every time someone greeted you with that simple phrase, your eyes would narrow, you would square your shoulders, and you would spit back the most distinct and unmistakable response you possibly could. You were not going to be the soulmate couple that had “hello” on both of your wrists. Your lucky, lucky soulmate probably had something ridiculous, like “Whatever you say,” or “Did you know that a hippopotamus’s sweat is red?” because you absolutely had to stand out, and you made sure that your replies to “hello” always did. There was no other way to be sure that anyone and everyone who said “hello” to you wasn’t your soulmate.

What a useless tattoo.

All throughout your school years at Ilvermorny, you were completely embarrassed to show people your tattoo. Unfortunately, when your classmates found out, they had great fun sending people you had never spoken to before up to say “hello” to you.

Your reaction was always hilarious, so they kept doing it. Your responses ranged from “Go fuck yourself,” to “Nice try guys, but I’ve already spoken with her before,” to straight up punching one student right in the jaw when he got a little too friendly with his hands as he delivered his “hello”.

You started to feel a little bad for your actual soulmate as your replies increased in hostility. They probably had a particularly colorful quote of yours. “Go to hell,” perhaps, or maybe “Who the fuck put you up to it this time?”

When you graduated, your defensive nature had thankfully melted a little. You had switched to solely offering people fun animal facts whenever they said “hello” to you, and it was far less stressful. “Seahorse mates hold each other’s tails so they don’t lose each other,” was a favorite of yours, as was “Cows have best friends.”

One evening, you were at a bar with your roommates Queenie and Tina, and you were in no mood for advances from anyone. You had decided to date, as many people with soulmates do, just to pass time while you waited for your soulmate to arrive, but your recent significant other had found their soulmate and left you in the dust. It was incredibly depressing, and you just really wanted a drink.

A man waltzed up to you, sliding into the chair beside you and offering a hand to shake. “Hello,” he said with a grin. You looked over at him, as annoyed as you were drunk, and reached out to flip his arm over and look at his wrist.

“Alright, let’s get this over with I’m not in the mood to think of a fun fact,” you grumbled, pulling back his sleeve to look at his wrist.

It wasn’t really with disappointment that you read the words “I’m so sorry I ran over your dog,” in black ink on his wrist, and you patted his hand drunkenly.

“Good luck with that one, buddy,” you slurred, getting to your feet and heading toward the door. He blinked after you, bewildered, and then returned to his drink.

Such was a usual encounter for you, and by the time Tina dragged a certain magizooligist into your home, you were sick and tired of your goddamn animal facts.

“Queenie, (y/n)!” Tina called out to you. You peeked your head around the corner where you were helping Queenie mend dresses, and you saw with a pang of confusion that Tina had brought two men along with her.

Queenie voiced your amazement, grinning and chirping “Teenie! You brought men home!”

You approached your friend, not bothering with the fact that you were clad in only a slip, and you blinked at her in disbelief. “Who are they?”

“This is a no-maj, and this is Mr. Scamander. He’s responsible for his injuries,” Tina said wearily, pointing her finger at the sweaty, overwhelmed man who offered you a disoriented half-smile before fixing his gaze back on Queenie, who giggled.

Mr. Scamander gave you a little wave. “Hello,” he said.

You let out a slow puff of air, your frustration resurfacing as your hand shot forward to grab his wrist. “Merlin’s Beard, just show me the goddamn tattoo,” you grumbled without thinking. You were in total shock when you slipped his sleeve back and found yourself face-to-face with your own words.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, and he looked just as startled. A hush fell over the room, and you felt your face grow hot. “Sorry about that,” you mumbled apologetically, unable to drop your gaze from his.

“That’s quite alright,” he said softly, his lips twitching upward in a small smile. “It’s quite the conversation piece,” he teased, and you found yourself chuckling.

“You had better be worth all the trouble my ridiculous tattoo has caused,” you teased back. The other three people in the room were watching the two of you, completely taken aback.

“I think for the most part people usually find me to be more trouble than I am worth,” he confessed, his eyes sparkling.

You dropped his hand at last, your face red and your heart pounding with embarrassment. “We’ll see about that,”

This is such a silly idea but I had to write it down so here u go

def not my best work but I hope u enjoy!! I literally didn’t even proofread this so it’s probs full of errors and bad transitions but pls enjoy this dumb little drabble!! (two fics in two days, who am I and what have I done with puk)

types of panic fans

the casual fan: listens to panic for fun sometimes if they feel like it. only knows songs from doab and the singles from the other albums

the ryan stan: br*nd*n ur*e killed their crops and burned their village. worships afycso and the rose vest. willing to fight the urie man for even having the thought of playing songs that ryan wrote live. has or plans to get at least one tattoo of his lyrics. lives for those edits where its his livejournal entries. their life mission is to get ryan the credit he deserves. also has a ryan ross hands kink

the brendon stan: brendon urie has done nothing wrong ever. he is the nicest, kindest, most beautiful human being to ever exist. lives for his high notes. would die for him. worships sarah. did i mention how beautiful brendon urie is and how proud i am of him can u believe he made doab all by himself wow

the ryden truther: ryden was 708% real. has read every ryden theory masterpost. has probably written at least one ryden theory post. every song is about ryan ross if you try hard enough. pretty odd is the best panic album. cries at every minor ryan/brendon interaction. everything that brendon does somehow relates back to the fact that he’s still bitter and sad about ryan. quotes throam almost daily. is rereading throam right now

the dallon stan: vices and virtues is a masterpiece. probably ships brallon. tags every picture of dallon with a keysmash. screams a lot. would kill to see a brobecks show. really only goes to panic shows to see dallon. strives to reach dallon’s level of dadness. here for dallon’s idkhbtfm project. is just here to have a good time

the “emo trinity” fan: obsessively listens to fall out boy and my chemical romance along with panic. probably also likes twenty one pilots, halsey, and/or melanie martinez. they like panic just as much as the other bands in the “trinity”. wants panic to tour with fob/21p. probably ships peterick/joshler/frerard

5

I think that, and I’ve probably heard it a million times so is not just from one source, but do what makes you happy. Right? And I think this is.. If I can say anything to anyone I really want them to hear, is; if you’re not happy with what you’re doing, do anything to change what you’re doing,

- Matthew Daddario

ao3 link


Yuuri is in the kitchen when he hears Victor call it out in question. They had just finished up supper and Victor had cooked so Yuuri was in the kitchen washing up the dishes to return the favor. And he’s just standing by the dishwasher, humming idly and wondering if Victor has picked out a movie for them to watch or if tonight is going to be a night where they watch game shows featuring Victor yelling out the answers that can actually be correct on occasion. It had been a long day at the rink and Yuuri even wonders if maybe they’ll have a nice glass of wine before bed.

So, Yuuri is just minding his own business, not thinking twice when Victor calls out his name. He hums back, expecting a question or statement about leftovers but then…

“What’s yaoi?”

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