there are probably thousands of people who have already done this but


(note: I’m not gonna talk about Trump mocking Serge Kovaleski primarily b/c Kovaleski does not ID as disabled and does not want to be used as a political talking point. Which is fair.  yes, it was awful. no, you don’t get brownie points for agreeing with me that it was awful. Disabled people have evolved to have thick skin, and a politician mocking us is not new or unsurprising. this list will deal with policy and specific issues facing the broader disability, autistic, d/Deaf//HoH, and neurodivergent communities.)

(other note: I generally use adjective-first language but I probably also used person-first language in here somewhere. I personally prefer to use the former for myself but I respect that other people in this community use different language.)

-the federal site for IDEA has been taken down

-all mentions of disability rights have been deleted from the website

-betsy devos had no idea what the Individuals With Disabilities Education Act was when asked and stated that standards for accommodations in education should be left up to the state (this is a TERRIBLE idea)

-if Obamacare is repealed, we have the most to lose. Most of us will not be able to afford medical expertise or treatment to maintain a basic quality of life. Some of us will die.

-he called one of his books Crippled America. Unironically. Ugh. 

-the january 2017 unemployment rate for nondisabled civilians was 4.9. For disabled civilians, it was 11.0. These numbers do not reflect the number of disabled individuals who work inadequate part time jobs, who are institutionalized, or have given up looking for work.

-the US still has not signed the UN documents about the rights of People with Disabilities. 

-Justices like Justice Kennedy have historically been swing votes on cases involving disabilities. Justices like Scalia have not. Potential Supreme Court Justice Gorsuch has a very ugly disability rights record, which includes defending a college that fired a professor undergoing chemo when she requested to give her lectures over skype (there was a flu going around on campus and being there would put the staff member in danger due to her suppressed immune system)

-By the time he was elected, Donald Trump had already dealt with at least eight lawsuits concerning lack of basic accessibility (ramps, braille) on his properties

-the Supreme Court case legalizing the sterilization of potentially disabled people without their consent (Buck v. Bell) has never been overturned and has been cited as a legal precedence in a lower court as recently as 2001.

-the Judge Rotenburg Center is still using painful electric shocks on disabled students as punishment, despite the FDA advising them to stop more than two years ago.

-similarly, many disabled people are not  paid federal minimum wage b/c section 14c of the “Fair Labor Standards Act” is still on the books and so hundreds of thousands of disabled peoples’ wages are “proportional” to their productivity (compared to an abled worker). Goodwill is one of the most famous companies that exploits this loophole.

-the already gutted SSDI program is even more at risk-Trump has spoken about emulating the British reforms for their disability program. Off the top of my head, I can think of nine or ten different people who died as a result of the recent “fit to work” assessments and bedroom requirements in the UK.

-disabled people depend on the Department of Justice’s civil rights division to enforce the ADA and protect us from blatant discrimination. Trump has already proven that he does not care about the funding or effectiveness of the department, and is willing to destabilize it to forward his political goals. 

-Donald Trump is anti-vax and is complacent to that movement’s violent and intolerable rhetoric surrounding autistic and other neurodivergent individuals

-Sessions called disabled children protected by federal laws (like IDEA) “the single most irritating problem for teachers throughout America today”. In this same statement, he stated that he did not “remember hearing of gun shootings prior to 1975 when Congress began telling ten percent of our students [they] are not responsible” (the IDEA was passed in 1975, improving the way disabled children were treated at public schools)

-the new administration’s refusal to address fatal police brutality is also an issue of disability rights, given that around half of victims shot by police officers are disabled or neurodivergent. (like eric garner, who had asthma) 

In case this list didn’t clue you in: the disabled community is scared. We don’t know what to expect from the next four years, we still haven’t come close to equality, and we are usually left to fight our battles alone. That’s why I’m asking whoever reads this to stand with the disability community against ableism and against policies that will kill us. People have done a great job in the past few weeks of expressing solidarity with muslims, immigrants, refugees, latinx people, LGBT people, and black people. And, honestly, that’s great. Thank you and please keep doing it. But also be aware that disabled people are one of the most vulnerable demographics right now, and be aware that we’re also one of the most ignored. We are made invisible by the media and by society too easily. Please, you have to see us and you have to stand with us. 

Looking back on history, it’s impossible not to notice that people with disabilities don’t fare well in authoritarian regimes. Please help us make this time different.


Plot: Jimin always thought his traditional Korean girlfriend was perfect – that was, until he realized how beautiful foreigners could be.

Pairing: Idol!Park Jimin x Backup Dancer!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Notes: I based this off of every single MTL I have seen of BTS dating a girl of a different race or a girl of color – Jimin always seems to be one of the people who were least likely to date one. I definitely do not think that Jimin is this ignorant in any way. This is only a work of fiction. This is for all the international beauties! 2,536 Words

Originally posted by bwipsul

“Oppa, I’m missing you so much!”

“I’m missing you too, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

One of the worst parts about tour was leaving lovers behind. For Jimin, it wasn’t only his lover, it was his home. He enjoyed tour, performing for all of the ARMYs around the world, going on stage; but he wasn’t a huge fan of being in a foreign country. He didn’t know English that well, and he wasn’t fond of being in a place where he couldn’t understand anything. 

“I know,” The soft voice of his significant other brought pink to his cheeks. “Call me when your rehearsal is over.”

“I will, I love you,” He glanced at the leader of his band, who was calling him over.

“I love you too.”

With that, he had ended the call with a sigh, and headed over to his band. It hadn’t even been a few minutes since he cut the call, and he was already missing her – a thought he had experienced after each long-distance conversation with his lover. The short male shook his head and got his head back in the game, his eyes going up to meet a group of people dressed in black.

“This is your dance crew for this city,” The manager announced to the band. “Not all of them know Korean, so if you have an queries, just talk to Jihoon. He is the leader.”

“We understand.”

Once that brief introduction was done, they were all left to their own devices for a few minutes, whilst the leader of the dance team talked to the leader of the band. Jimin had let himself scan over the people he would be working with; not that he would talk to them, he was just curious and bored. Most of them had masks on – no one had really caught his eyes, except for one person. 

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Important Things to Remember about Van Hohenheim:

  • He was born as a slave and manipulated into being involved in the genocide of his own race, then forced to live with the burden of having an immortal body filled with the crying souls of the thousands of people who had died.
  • He devoted at least a couple of centuries conversing with over 500,000 souls, getting to know each and every one of them, befriending them, and cooperating with them.
  • Hohenheim did not leave his children alone. He left them in the (more than capable) hands of Trisha, where he knew they would be raised well. He trusted that Trisha would be able to explain his absence to Ed & Al without revealing the truth about his body. He couldn’t have anticipated her death, and as he was travelling the entire country he had no way of keeping in contact with Trisha to check that she and their sons were doing ok (this is assuming the Elrics didn’t have a telephone).
  • Hohenheim had difficulty interacting with people, even his own family. He would probably have a very hard time writing letters back home, or talking to Trisha on the phone. He more than likely thought it best to keep his distance 100% until he could return home for fear of ruining any of his relationships with his family.
  • Hohenheim was immortal and had already lived for hundreds of years. A year or two probably wouldn’t have seemed like a long time to somebody with such a huge lifespan. Hohenheim likely still pictured his sons as young children, even after 10 years of not seeing them.
  • When Hohenheim returned to Resembool he expected to be greeted by the love of his life and his two young boys standing at the doorway to his family home. Instead he found a pile of burnt rubble, Trisha’s grave, Edward’s automail, and Alphonse’s empty body.
  • He completely blamed himself for Ed and Al’s attempt at human transmutation and subsequent injuries. He understood that they were lonely, grieving children and in his eyes the fault was all down to him and - taboo or not - the brothers had not done anything wrong.
  • Despite being the most powerful character in the FMA universe, Hohenheim was a pacifist and did not fight or injure a single person in the whole series.
  • He always put everyone else before himself.
  • The things which made him happiest in the whole world were all to do with his children. Alphonse trusting him, Ed and Al helping him on the promised day, Ed calling him Dad for the first time, getting to shake Al’s hand after recovering his body… his whole life revolved around his sons as soon as he met up with them again. He was willing to sacrifice himself for Ed and Al’s sake.
  • He died happy because he was so proud of Ed and Al and he knew that they had made incredible friends who would look after them for the rest of their lives.
  • Without him everyone would be dead.
  • All he wanted was a normal life.
  • Van Hohenheim was not a bad person.
  • Van Hohenheim was not a bad father.


  • He is romantically cheesy as hell
  • He wears glasses just so he looks slightly different to Father
  • He used to fly into an Ed-like rage whenever anyone called him unintelligent
  • The first thing he said to Alphonse after reuniting with him was, “My vintage armor!!”
  • One of the first things he said to Edward after reuniting with him was, “we have the same hairstyle”.

anonymous asked:

Tell me about your weird elves

they start as little anglerfish babies until they’re thirty and their skin sloughs off and their teeth fall out and once they’re done molting they can walk on land with small bodies and long tails and long ears and teeth still sharp but not quite so drastic until tailfall when they’re seventy and they finally start looking like humans - shorter ears and squarer teeth but eyes still black and unsettling - and those are their wandering years, the century they can travel among men until they start to grow horns and have to go back into hiding in the secret cities of elves.

they age like lobsters, getting bigger all the time, getting slower, until they’re so big and so slow that plants grow on them and they barely move at all. they reproduce by stealing away genetic material to keep in storage in weird organs near their throats and when an elf gets in a fight and licks the blood from their knife it means something very different and when an elf is aroused they can’t eat and pretend it’s because they don’t like the food. then when an elf gets big enough all the material they’ve collected over their lifetime goes into outgrowths that burst from their skin as horrifying little merfolk.

a human finds elfspawn and the elves say “yeah that’s a weird mermaid” and the humans find a hissing little tailed elf and the elves say “that’s a gnome” and the humans find someone breaking into rooms to drink the blood of pretty women and the elves say “that’s actually just a weird dead human” and the humans find a huge horned elf and the elves say “that’s an orc” and the humans find an even bigger one and the elves say “probably a troll” and the humans find an elf so big they’re covered in plantlife and the elves say “that’s an ent” because humans breed so quickly and there are so many of them and they kill so much and they have such strange rules about when it’s okay to kill people and there are so few elves by comparison that they have all agreed en masse that humans must believe that elves are just like humans so that they can be friends.

elves aren’t allowed to be wild and feral and any elf who breaks the rules is considered fair game whether they knew the rules or not, because they put every other elf in danger. elven cities are massive with great big towers but each tower holds just one huge elf and no human is ever allowed to enter and discover that the population is under one hundred instead of the thousands they assume. elves don’t laugh because the laugh is the hardest part of the accent to get rid of, laughing like dolphins long after they’ve managed to stop singing like whales. elves don’t touch, because humans have rules about how siblings are allowed to touch but the way elves breed makes it hard for them to understand what kinds of touching are acceptable in what contexts and it’s easier and safer to just never do it than risk letting humans think elves are breaking their taboos. elves put on airs, because if they do it just right then humans will defer to them in the same way they do their own upper classes and they won’t ask too many questions or look too closely. elves have undertones of blue or of green but if they don’t look enough like what an elf is supposed to be they’re called half-elves because it’s easier than explaining the truth.

they trade in magical reagants that grow on their elders and wear sleeves over the tips of their ears and collect momentos of their travels like charm beads and never teach their language to outsiders so outsiders never know when they’re talking shit. they’re foul-mouthed and violent and like to eat crickets and sometimes they start wars because the alternative is explaining to their human allies that actually their city was destroyed because grandpa decided to try to go for a walk and they had to eat him, and it’s always easier to blame other different humans that the friendly humans already hate.

tl;dr they’re awful

Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀


The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 


Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

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Blue Skies and Possibilities (Lin/Reader Soulmate AU)

Summary: In a world where you can only see color once you make physical contact with your soulmate, you’re keeping your hands to yourself. Fate has other plans.

Word Count: 8642

Note: Thank you to @the-real-tony-stank for reading this ahead of time and being so sweet and to @thatoneimaginesblog for giving me a cute idea that pops up in here and putting up with a lot of Lin pictures while this got written.

You were in the forest again.

There was light streaming through the trees, and the vivid color of the leaves told you that you were dreaming. You felt a flutter in your stomach and smiled to yourself. If there was color, that meant he would be here. You let your instincts take over and walked swiftly in the direction the creek you’d visited so many times before.

There he was, just like you knew he’d be. He turned to you with a boyish smile on his face and you felt like you had just gotten home after a long trip away. You didn’t have a name to attach to the color of his eyes, but you knew they were deep and familiar. He held out a hand to you and you grabbed it, never knowing how much time you’d have here. Tonight was a lucky one. You spent what felt like an entire summer in the woods, neither of you speaking but somehow communicating anyway.

When you heard a buzzing in the distance, you knew your time was up. You held tight to his hand, but the world around you faded anyway. The feeling of his fingers laced with yours was the last thing to slip away.

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Substituting with “anything” (a quartz and rosemary-inspired rant)

Apparently this is the month of me sticking my foot in places I’ll likely regret. But I feel like this really damages the learning process for a lot of witches and needs addressing. So today I’d like to talk about this thing being told to new witches way too often: that they can use “anything” as a substitution if they don’t have X ingredient for, say, a spell jar or whatever.

Can I just say, as someone whose practice focuses heavily on herbal work, how crazy that makes me?

I am not saying spells are set in stone and substitutions can’t be made. They totally can be.

I am not saying that this here fancy spell with all these fancy, expensive ingredients can’t have a more accessible re-working done with more common ingredients. It probably can.

I am all about making spells work for less money, less time, and less privileged people. You tell me what you’ve got in your kitchen and yard, and I will help you find a way to make that into any-damn-thing you please.

I am not all about the elite-extra-special “old way” or some dead guy’s mandates on how to witch.

But when I see, “just use quartz/rosemary instead” as the generic advice for EVERYTHING, no matter what the missing component in question is, it makes me crazy.

What’s the purpose of using ingredient-based spells? No, not just for the aesthetic™. It’s to reduce the energy load on you by replacing it with stuff that ALREADY HAS a given energy, or focus.

So if you remove it and just stick a generic energy booster in there, what’s going to happen?

One of two things:

1. The spell doesn’t work as intended, because you took off a wheel and put a rocket where it used to be.

2. The spell does work as intended, but I’m willing to bet you feel the exact same drain you would have felt if you’d just done energy work… because that’s probably what you did (and a lot of people don’t realize that isn’t supposed to happen).

So while I’m not saying that you’re wrong and your spell didn’t work regardless of whatever generic substitutions you made, I am going to say that if that’s true, I wonder if you’re wasting a lot of materials in your practice.

The purpose of spell ingredients is to use the properties of the ingredient in order to add a specific energy to the spell, which reduces the burden on you to supply that specific energy, and to have highly consistent focus while doing so. If your spell calls for valerian, then there is something about valerian itself that is aiding the spell. You can’t simply swap it with cayenne and expect to get the same results. There are definitely things you COULD swap it with because they have similar properties, but not absolutely anything.

If you can swap the valerian with literally anything and get the same results, that likely means you are not actually using the valerian to help you cast the spell. You’re simply using your own energy and the herbs are set dressing.

And there’s most certainly nothing wrong with being adept at pure energy work. That’s a great skill to have as a witch. But it sure is a waste of herbs if you’re not actually using them, eh? I mean, a lot of these herbs we use aren’t cheap or readily available.

Why not just get rid of the set dressing and save yourself time and money and just do energy work? Or if you like your set dressing, use tools meant to amplify energy work, like a wand or a staff or something?

Also, I think there’s a certain level of damage being done when we tell witches who are trying to learn herbal work that anything is just the same as anything else and none of it matters.

The magical uses of herbs are often tied to their mundane uses. Let’s remember: cunning craft was the mother of medicine. To this very day, the magical uses of many herbs are tied to their physical affects. Even when they aren’t, they’re often a sort of hypersigil, and they’ve gained those associations through dozens or even hundreds of years of thousands or millions of people all imbuing them with the same purpose and energy. Most correspondences have a biological reasoning behind them, or have been basically sigilized by being used the same way thousands of times.

Exceptions and personal correspondences are a thing; I have a few myself. But these tend to be herbs that have been highly significant in my own life over a long period of time, and have consequently become a sort of personal sigil, as opposed to the cultural sigil of most broader correspondences. My personal correspondences tend to be things I have history with (even if it’s mundane), not just literally anything. Basically, I’ve overridden the cultural sigilization, by writing over it with my own over time. But that’s an exception.

It makes it impossible to learn herbal work – which is a totally different skill from energy work – if you’re proposing that none of it actually matters and it all works the same anyway. And furthermore, it’s pretty discouraging if a witch tries that, and then their spell fails, which I see with some regularity.

Witches read that they can replace “anything” with quartz or rosemary, and then they come back and say their spell is doing all kinds of weird stuff it shouldn’t be doing.

Well, I’m not surprised. The original ingredient was there to give the spell a specific property, and then someone told them to replace it with a neutral energy booster and not do anything to replace the loss of that specific property, or control all the unprogrammed energy.

So, the result is going to be a high-powered bouncy ball of a spell that just pings around doing random shit and putting holes in the wall. Because they didn’t give it anything except energy with no focus. Because you can’t just replace “anything” with quartz or rosemary.

That tripped me up for a while, as someone who relies a lot on tools. I’m an empath, and like a lot of drain-prone people, I find using ingredients helps reduce how drained I get by casting spells. Becoming adept at herbal work was really important for me to be able to cast at all with any consistency. I can DO energy work, but I don’t always wanna wind up spending the next day in bed, and that’s where tools help me.

It’s not very helpful to just say “replace it with anything.” That’s not how herb magic works.

Substitution can be done in most cases. But if you’re gonna remove a wheel, you need to add a different one that’s compatible with the car, not just strap a rocket to the axle.

So, long story short: I really wish people would stop saying you can substitute with “anything.” While I get that the intention is to try to make the craft more accessible, it just impedes people from learning how to do it with stuff that’s ACTUALLY accessible. I mean, what’s inaccessible about the stuff most people have in their kitchen? You can substitute for a lot with that!

While it is completely true that you don’t need ingredients to do a spell, it is also true that if you’re going to use ingredients, they matter. If they didn’t matter there’d be no point to using them.

If you find that you can substitute with “anything” and get the same results no matter what, then I think I can save you some time and money: just get an energy working tool instead!

Amren is Manon

Okay, so I just finished reading both series and I was already speculating what Amren was when I read that SJM had told one of her readers already and they had freaked out. This means that we must already know what sort of creature Amren is without needing much more explanation. I also read that SJM confirmed that ACOTAR and TOG are in the same megaverse, so their separate dimensions can hypothetically be reached through, say, a wyrdgate. 

Therefore, after careful deliberation and mulling over each character, all still fresh in my mind I have come to the conclusion that the best bet for what Amren’s true form is…. Manon.

Keep in mind, this would be Manon thousands of years after the war with Erawan in which she fell through a wyrdgate into the ACOTAR world as the cauldron was creating it. She was then trapped there and ensnared into a Fae body and went berserk, doing enough wrong to get her sent to The Prison. When she escaped, she knew that by now, Dorian and all her friends were probably long dead but never lost hope of returning to her realm. 

There are a couple different points to back up my theory: 

1. The blood drinking (emphasized by her particular love for goat blood which is what she and the Thirteen hunted and ate while in the Ferian Gap) 

2. Her disinterest in other people, especially advances from men as (hopefully) she is still harboring her love for Dorian perhaps and not wanting to bother with the fae of this realm when her heart belongs in another dimension 

3. She can read the Book of Breathings, written in a long forgotten language that everyone had forgotten. However, perhaps with everything in the war, Manon learned to read Wyrdmarks, as it was necessary for winning, and never quite forgot how to decipher it. Though after thousands of years she needed to brush up a bit before being able to read and translate the book. Or it could just be the dialect of Erilea that she has forgotten over the millenniums and must now remember how she had talked, and how she had read, feeling more and more sorry for Elide as she struggled to remember the way words were spelled and how the letters looked because she hadn’t realized how difficult it was to not be able to read.

4. Her automatic softness towards Feyre after she opened up about what happened with her family and what Tamlin had done to her, reminding Amren of a girl, thousands of years ago in another dimension who had also been abused and treated wrongly. So she gave Feyre the amulet to help her without even knowing her more than twenty-four hours. She just couldn’t help herself, there was so much Elide in that thin, Tamlin-wrecked girl that arrived at the House of Wind.

5. The fae body she is trapped in is the exact opposite from Manon’s, “several inches shorter than me [Feyre], her chin-length black hair glossy and straight, her skin tan and smooth and her face - pretty, bordering on plain - was bored’. This is in direct contrast to Manon, who has long, white hair, and a pale complexion, also quoted by Dorian that ‘he’d never seen anyone so beautiful’. Not to mention the eyes, Amren’s silver eyes battling with Manon’s deep gold. Whatever spell trapped her in that body, made her the opposite of what she once was, forcing her to hate this cage not only for the Fae exterior but the lie is portrayed over her once revered beauty. 

6. She joins a court that can fly so that she might once again feel the wind in her hair after so many years under a mountain in the dark. Also reminding her of her Thirteen, cleaved apart before darkness could claim them and away from her Abraxos who is left without a rider for the remainder of his life. But if I go too much into this one I’m gonna cry.

7. The jewelry ties into it somehow, probably. I’m thinking that she went through the wyrdgate using either The Amulet of Orynth or the Eye of Elena and it somehow got lost in transit. She had idly mentioned she was looking for a rare piece of jewelry once to Dorian and he has been buying the rarest pieces he can find for her ever since, knowing it is to somehow help her return. 

I’m not 100% sure where the powers came from, perhaps simply appearing in this realm or coming with the body, maybe gifted to her from Dorian, or honed from millennia in The Prison. Or any other twist SJM wants to play. 

TL/DR Amren is Manon trapped in another dimension, in another body, apart from everyone she loves and has been trying to get back to for the past five thousand years + 

Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.


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Dead Man {Kylo Ren x Reader}

Request~  I just thought of this and it sounds good in my head, but could u do a kylo imagine where the reader gets taken by the first order & is in the interrogation type room (like where Poe/Rey were) & reader is kinda scared bc ur preggos with kylos baby (u got pregnant when he was Ben or something) & he’s like who’s the father? And u say Ben Solo, but he’s gone now. And I don’t know where to go from there so u take it away lol. Wow sorry this is so lengthy

A/N~ Apologies for how long this took writing has been tough for me these past couple months. Anyways I’m not really sure how good this’ll be because I have no idea how to write pregnancy and its been a good minuet since I’ve written some thing long like this. Please ignore any mistakes (I’ll fix them later. For now I need to stop looking at this) hope ya’ll like it!

If the doctor back on base could see you now you assume she’d be furious. Three balanced meals a day, light exercise, and plenty of rest. It was good advice for a woman like yourself eight months pregnant, and you followed those directions perfectly except for one. Rest. You couldn’t sit idly while the resistance moved so quickly around you. 

Yellow Squadron denied every one of your requests or rather demands to let you join them on missions, but it never stopped you from asking one more time. Out of pure luck they’d finally said yes. The rebellion had received intel of unregistered spacecraft loitering in the outer rim. There was reason to believe The First Order was behind it. An organization that had been around for quite some time but only in the past few months had they really surfaced and become a threat. Yellow squadron’s job was to go out take a look around and come right back. A scouting mission is what they called it and they must have figured the mission would be easy enough for you to come along, for the ride if nothing else. It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be safe.

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for you pt. 1

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Badboy Taehyung, angst, implied smut

Word Count: 4.4k

Originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

You knew better than to fall for someone like him. If he looked like trouble, then he probably was trouble. But you were never one to listen. There was something about him that drew you in. Maybe it was his voice. It was thick like honey and rolled off his tongue like the breeze on a hot summer day. Or maybe it was the rare moments where he let his guard down and flashed you that boxy smile that reminded you that underneath that tough exterior, there was a softness.

You remembered the first time you saw him. You were with your friends sitting outside of the only decent coffee shop on campus. Summer break was looming. The only thing holding you back between a summer without papers and deadlines were exams. And you had a lot of them. The only reason you had even left the library was because you were ambushed. Pairs of hands grabbing you and your things and dragging you out of the frozen solitude that was the library.

But they had their reasons. Momo had just caught the man she swore she thought she would marry (the 4th man she has ever felt this way about) cheating on her. They had been together for almost 6 months, but her’s wasn’t the only bed he was keeping warm. She was in hysterics by the time the barista had finished making your quad soy latte.

“I don’t understand how he could do this to me!” she shrieked between sobs. Her body was shaking violently. Your other best friends, Sana and Mina, were trying to console her. Mina was rubbing circles around her back while Sana was trying to convince Momo that if he was the one than he wouldn’t have done this in the first place.

“What happened this time?” you asked. You didn’t bother to try to hide the disinterest in your voice. You knew Momo and you knew how fast she bounced back. It might have seemed like the end of the world now, but the girl had a rubber heart. She would be back in the ring in no time.

“He cheated! That’s what happened!” her voice cracked as she spoke. “He told me he was going to spend all night in the library. But Mina and I went out last night and he was there. He was kissing some gir-” her words broke into sobs. Sana wrapped her arms around her and pulled Momo into a tight hug.

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as all my jewish followers and friends know, we have a holiday coming up! the featival of purim is this sunday. purim celebrates hidden miracles and hidden beauty and hidden saviours. there’s a lot of hiding. that’s why we dress up!

i’m aware that the vast majority of gentiles and a lot of jews don’t fully know the story of purim, which is recorded in the scroll of esther, or megillat esther. the megillah’s my favourite story, and has so many amazing midrashim (bit like rabbinical fanfiction) that i study year round. this story, which is the story of how a young jewish woman saved our people from a genocide, has a lot of parallels with our current political situation in the u.s., so i thought now would be a great time to tell the story!

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The Reality

You awaken in a cold sweat.

You’re confused, anxious, and although you’re not in physical pain you can already feel that something about your body is… out of place.

There are pieces missing and pieces present that are not yours. You start to panic, jump from bed and rush to the light-switch. You throw on the lights and look down; your heart skips a beat. That’s not right. Your chest is wrong - it’s not what it was when you went to sleep. You touch yourself, hands shaking slightly, just to confirm what your eyes are seeing and your fingers feel the difference your eyes can see and an uncomfortable weight drops into the pit of your stomach.

Your hands move downward as you feel the area between your legs. It’s wrong there too… that’s not the part you went to bed with; that’s not the identity you had when you closed your eyes and fell asleep. That’s not who you are, it’s not what you’ve always been. A lump begins to form in your throat as your mind races and your pulse quickens even further, your heart beating inside your chest like a drum that you can’t escape; like the horrible nightmare you’ve awakened to.

No. No, no no no no.

This isn’t real, you tell yourself.

Over and over again in the span of a moment. It’s impossible, what happened. What happened??? How did this happen? You rush to the mirror, near tears from confusion and panic and you see what you already know. It’s you, alright - that’s your face… but at the same time it’s not. The angles are wrong, the features skewed just ever so slightly in such a way that you’re recognizable but only barely; like looking at yourself in the surface of a warped mirror. It’s you, but it’s not… it’s wrong.

You’re in full panic mode now. You rush to the phone and quickly call your mother or your father, perhaps your best friend. You call the one person that knows you best; the person you trust the most in the world… You can tell you’ve awoken them as they answer the phone - you can’t even feel embarrassment or guilt for having called them so early in the morning, you’re in too much of a panic. You begin to speak, trying to explain to them what’s happened but they’re not understanding. They can tell you’re panicked though, so they offer to come over and help you through whatever’s happened.

A shock goes through you as you realize they’ll see you… like this. A million worries, fears and questions shoot through your mind. What will they think? How will they react? Will they treat you differently seeing you like this? … no, you tell yourself. They love you, they care for you - they’ll help you. They’ll help you understand all of this and make sense of what’s happening. You agree and quickly prepare for their arrival.

They arrive and offer a comforting look or embrace. You wait for their surprise or their shock but it doesn’t come. They stare at you expectantly and you usher to your body, your face, your suddenly new identity and they only offer you confusion. You tell them you’re different, you woke up different and they don’t understand how you mean. You look just the same to them. You stare at them in horror and confusion.

How can they say that?

This isn’t you!

You don’t look the same at all, you look different; like yourself but the opposite gender. You’re still you but you’re shaped differently; the same clay but pushed through a different mold at some point in the night. They try to offer more comfort but their confusion and insistence that you look the same as you always have to them only frustrates you and eventually they leave, feeling worried and confused and that only makes you even more confused.

The change doesn’t wear off or go away.

You spend days and weeks waiting to feel like yourself again… but nothing changes.

Every morning you wake up and for a brief moment there’s a small flicker of hope that today it will be different - you’ll be you again and it was all just a bad, crazy dream. Or perhaps for a brief, shining moment you forget who you are or where you are or what’s happened… But it only ever lasts a moment. You wait for the morning when you’ll wake up and suddenly be you again, like before. But that morning never comes. And the longer you wait for it the more anxious you get. The creeping sensation that it’s never coming is slowly sneaking up on you and you’re no longer panicking… you’re sinking. Sinking into something similar to panic but much, much deeper.

A constant state of irritability and discomfort, it’s almost a sense of foreboding in reverse; you’re not afraid something bad is coming, you’re terrified the good you’re waiting for isn’t coming.

You begin to realize that you’re becoming depressed and so you force yourself into a routine of distraction. You over-work yourself, showers and bathroom breaks are quick and oftentimes done blind as you try to keep your eyes closed as much as possible. You’ve moved the mirrors around in the house - they all face the walls now. Except the one in the bathroom, you couldn’t turn that one around so it’s just gone now - the front of the medicine cabinet an empty hole in the wall stacked with shelves of toothpaste, deodorant, and floss.

You focus on the things that make you forget about your body and how wrong it feels, unfortunately that means you end up isolating yourself from the people who now identify you with this new, fake body; who have apparently always identified you this way. Your friends, your family, you keep them all at arms length now because they don’t understand the way the name they call you cuts when it slides past their lips. They can’t see the grimace of pain when they refer to you by the wrong pronoun, it doesn’t make sense to them why that upsets you the way it does so they simply chalk it up to you being oversensitive which only exasperates you.

So you push them away and you isolate yourself and distract yourself with work and anything else that helps you forget but that only lasts so long. Eventually you understand that you’re going to have to do something because living this way isn’t working. No amount of distraction or ignoring it is going to make it better. If you don’t do something soon you’re going to lose yourself to the dark feeling growing inside.

Finally, you work up the nerve to seek out a doctor and explain to them what you’re feeling. The doctor is nice, super compassionate to your situation and makes you feel a bit better. He talks about a solution to your problem and your heart sores. He throws around some words like “transgender” and “dysphoria”. You kind of understand them but not really, he explains them and it makes sense to you and something inside you starts screaming and jumping up and down: “yes! That’s what this is! That’s me, that’s what I’m experiencing!” And most importantly, he says that he can fix this for you! … but there’s a catch.

The fix isn’t perfect.

And it’ll cost more than anything else you’ll probably ever buy in your life. When it’s all said and done the “cure” to this nightmare is going to cost you more than a car, more than a house, probably even more than college. And it’s going to be painful. The procedures are intensive, intrusive and take a long time to recover from and the medicine you’re going to be taking to “fix” what the procedures can’t is administered painfully and is, most likely, a lifetime commitment to maintain what you had already had before all of this without any effort at all.

It’s going to cost you tens of thousands of dollars, a lot of pain and work and the results will probably never be exactly what you had before. It might get close, maybe even better, but there’s no guarantee to that at all and the doctor makes this very, very clear. You think about it for a little while but only as a formality. Living like this the rest of your life is unbearable to you, it’s not an option. You think to yourself frequently these days that anything would be better than this, even death as it is… so you knew the moment he said there was a “cure” or a way to “fix” this that you’d do whatever, pay whatever it cost.

You agree to this treatment and the doctor sets out a five year plan of therapy, hormones, and an array of other things that you’ll need to do to prepare for the first surgery.

Five years is a long time, but it’s all you have.

You’ll take it.

You sign the papers and for the first time in a very long time you feel a small sliver of hope; maybe things won’t always be like this. There may be a light at the end of this tunnel after all, you tell yourself. You leave the doctor’s office and immediately call your friends and family and tell them, you think for sure that they’ll be as excited about this as you are … but they’re not. A couple are supportive but only tentatively so. They’re a little awkward and you can tell they’re still concerned. You hang up with them and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness washes through you. They don’t understand this… they don’t even want to understand this. It honestly feels to you as if they’d really rather you just suffered with it in silence so they didn’t have to deal with it. You feel like a burden and it hurts you in ways you didn’t know you could hurt before.

That pain only intensifies as you begin the process of transitioning over the next several months. Your family makes excuses not to have you over or to visit you - some of your friends won’t even return your calls or answer your texts anymore. People you don’t even know are now suddenly very, very interested in you and your life; some are strangely fascinated with the process of your transition and make you feel incredibly uncomfortable and violated; others are judgmental and cruel, telling you their god hates you for simply existing the way you do or that you’re disgusting and unnatural. This only further fuels your desire for isolation and you retreat from the public eye as much as possible. It’s easier to be alone than to be constantly scrutinized and observed, watched like a criminal or fetishized by people who treat you like a trophy.

You turn to the digital universe, because you can be whoever you want to be there and no one questions you. Eventually you find a website full of people… just like you! They’re bright, and vibrant and confidant and happy. They accept you with open arms and give you so much positive feedback you’re practically sick with it. The overwhelming feeling of relief is so powerful you could almost get high off of it. You throw yourself into this online community headlong and for a while it’s pretty good, it really helps you not feel so alone.

But then… you start to notice that some of the people who are so supportive and who have embraced you with open arms say things sometimes that make you feel weird; uncomfortable. Things that don’t… quite make sense and you ask questions. They insist things like “gender doesn’t exist” “it’s a social construct” “you don’t have to have dysphoria to be transgender” “you’re perfect just the way you are” “you shouldn’t change yourself you should just learn to love yourself more” “transition isn’t necessary” “some trans people love themselves and don’t want to transition”.

You assume that they don’t understand how these kinds of things are wrong and harmful to someone like you; they’re part of the reason you have to wait five years and go through extensive therapy before you can finally get to your first surgery approval and move on with your life. You try to explain this and your friends, the ones who had been so nice before are suddenly very, very mean. In an instant they go from kind and supportive to downright cruel. They say awful things to you, tell you you’re a terrible person and that they hope horrible things happen to you.

You retreat and isolate again. If you’re lucky you find people who understand you and who agree with you… but there’s never any guarantee of that. You stare at the long path of transition ahead of you and you wonder if you’re even going to make it to the starting line…

This is it. This is the reality.

Fear. Discomfort. Paranoia. Anger. Frustration. Exasperation. Isolation. Loneliness. Depression. Self doubt. Confusion. Desperation.


These are the things we experience regularly… and it isn’t because cis people exist, and it isn’t (just) because we face oppression. It’s because we are disconnected from our bodies; because we face one of two equally unpleasant avenues: live with the bodies we have that we do not feel at home in or undergo expensive, painful, emotionally draining and sometimes dangerous medical procedures and a near lifelong commitment to bi-weekly injections of hormone correction therapy.

This is the reality.

This is what it means to change who you are outside to match who you know you are inside; who you’ve always known you are inside, even when everyone else insists you’re wrong or crazy.

This is what it means to be like us.

This is what it means to be transgender.

Anyone who tells you differently is lying to you.

Sugar Sweet | 3 | (M)

word count: 5.1k

genre: smut + fluff; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

a/n: there’s no actual smut in this chapter, just lots of talk about it along with seriously suggestive things, but it’ll be in the next one! thank you so much for the support and love for SS so far!!  ♡ ♡ ♡

part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6


Keep reading

Some things that bother me about the story at this point:

I know I’m so gonna be hated for at least two specific points but I really need to talk about it in order to clear my mind a bit so here we go (contains spoilers of ch. 56).

Keep reading

MBTI and heartbreak~

(If this does not apply to you, I do apologize. These are purely from my own impressions and experiences.)

ISTJ: When ISTJs go through a heartbreak, they are like zombies. Blank faces with a lot of stormy emotions underneath that they have no idea what to do about. They will often feel loneliness and won’t hop on to another relationship easily.

ISFJ: During a bad time, ISFJs will become incredibly moody and unreasonable. Anything can set them off and trigger their tempers and outbursts as well as plenty of self-pity. They will get over it quickly and are quick to make up to people whom they’ve wronged, but the cycle quickly repeats itself. 

INFJ: It takes INFJs a long time to get over a heartbreak. There will be plenty of thinking as well as weeping. Eventually, they will fast learn that whatever is done is done and they cannot change the past. Soon enough, they have gotten over everything as if it never happened and will smile again. 

INTJ: After heartbreak, it is as if all the emotions they had kept so well-hidden had finally snapped. They cannot comprehend this despairing feeling as well as confused as to how these feelings can be so erratic and chaotic inside their calm disposition. After this passes, their days will be numb and zombie-like.

ISTP: They will hurt and hurt a lot and they have a special way of showing it: biting sarcasm and cynicism. It still hurts though. 

ISFP: They will cry and vent to friends and families. After that, they either go into emotional withdrawal or move on rather fast. 

INTP: Don’t worry, they’re fine…No. They are not. But after a long time of brooding, frustrations and contemplation, they will come to terms with the situation and move on with their lives. 

ESTP: Heartbreak is not such a bad thing for this social butterfly. They simply think of it as an experience to be learned but every so and then, they will have thoughts back on it and feel a strange sense of melancholy and nostalgia.

ESFP: What? Heartbreak? Impossible. -broken and tearful laughters-

ENFP: ENFPs will be rather overdramatic and vocal during heartbreak about their wounds and hurts. They will demonstrate to their peers about how broken they are with negativity and drinking may be involved. However, these are one of the few types that are able to get over their heartbreak the fastest because of the constantly active Fi and its fickleness. 

ENTP: They will vent and cry it all out. But once it’s done for an ENTP, it is absolutely done and they are ready to go out with the world again.

ESTJ: Silence. It is hard to tell what the ESTJs are thinking during horrible times as they like to keep every single complaints and sadness to themselves. They look nonchalant and indifferent from the distance, but upon closer inspection, you can tell they have never forgotten and possibly haven’t gotten over the heartbreak. 

ESFJ: ESFJs during heartbreak will try to heal themselves by ranting and complaining to other people showing them how it’s not them whose heart is broken, but the person who broke their heart. They will try to come off cool as if they are not bothered by anything, but their gossips and rants naturally give everything away.

ENFJ: This is a really sad and unbelievable time for them. ENFJs will constantly question why things went wrong and why was it not fixable. They will probably shed a few tears over this honestly. After that, they start blaming themselves for wrongdoings that they probably didn’t even do.

ENTJ: On the outside, they look completely controlled, self-possessed and utterly impeccable as if they have no care for other people’s miserable souls. On the inside, it feels as if they had been stabbed a thousand times. They do not move on as fast as they like to think they do.

INFP: Contrary to popular belief, INFPs move on the fastest. Because they are so full of internal feelings, by the time of actual heartbreak, they have already used up all of their energy and now there is nothing left but absolute apathy and smiles as they easily move on and leave your sorry ass behind.

A Study in Hypocrisy #2.6

Or why the Avengers’ relationship to Tony was unhealthy at best, Steve isn’t fit to be a leader, and why I’m Team Iron Man to the end.


Tony’s relationship with the Avengers has always made me uncomfortable. For the longest time, I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, but I’ll try to organize my thoughts in this series.  

This post was getting far too long, so I decided to cut it into parts, one per Avenger.


Let’s talk about Wanda. 

Wanda, who chooses to join a known terrorist organization to get revenge over Tony in the stupidest plot ever, because, come on. If your parents are killed in a car accident, you’re not going to go kill the car manufacturer in revenge. It’s absurd. It’s insane. It makes no sense whatsoever

But she makes that choice. God only knows how many people she killed during her and Pietro’s time with HYDRA, but she obviously doesn’t give a damn. In fact, her revenge against Tony doesn’t seem to include actually causing him physical harm, but rather…killing as many innocent people over the world as she can? Otherwise, she could have, you know. Killed him at the beginning of Age of Ultron. Instead, she triggered the creation of Ultron, mentally raped and tortured people who’d already been through a shit-ton of trauma, and let loose a creature known to be uncontrollable and highly destructive on hapless civilians. 

And she does. not. care. 

Then, she realizes all of a sudden that, wait! Ultron wants to destroy the world I happen to be a part of. Does that mean I’ll die, too? It must! Nope, that won’t do. Let’s switch sides. 

Then Clint goes and makes her an Avenger, without any consideration for Natasha, his friend and teammate, who had to relive her blood-drenched past, or Bruce, his teammate and friend, whom Wanda forced to massacre innocent civilians, or Tony, his teammate and supposed friend, who went through a hellish vision. Clint, who has experienced mind-control and its consequences before, just welcomes a proven disloyal, murderous witch into the team all on his own. As if all was forgiven and the lives she’d taken didn’t matter. As if the harm she caused wasn’t a problem and should be forgotten just because she suddenly saw the light and really is “just a kid.” 

But she didn’t. 

First, she doesn’t give a crap about the lives lost. She doesn’t give a crap about who lives or dies, and about what she did/caused.  

Second, she’s not a freaking kid. She’s a grown-ass woman of 26, only a few years younger than Steve, and if she’s old enough to drink, fuck and kill, then she’s damn well old enough to take responsibility for the blood she shed. Willingly.

Third, how come Tony has to take responsibility, get reamed out by everyone and still not be forgiven, and atone over and over again for his mistakes (which afterward get used against him on a regular basis by his supposed team), even though he actually tries to get better and fix things, when Wanda, who doesn’t give a shit, gets a free pass? The double-standards when it comes to that are mind-blowing. 

The same thing actually happens after Lagos. Wanda fucks up. And yeah, she was trying to help this time, I won’t deny it. But she did, and people died. And instead of benching her for more training (because while I believe that “lack of control” excuse if absolute bullshit after the mastery of her powers she displayed in Age of Ultron), which should have been Steve’s reaction as “team leader,” Steve gently sits her down and explains that she should forget about those people because “you can’t save everybody.” That the leader of the world’s leading defending force shows such disregard about human life is kinda daunting, don’t you think? 

I can guarantee that, had Tony made such a costly mistake, he’d have been benched faster than you can say “hypocrite.” 

Alright then. 

On to that wonderfully childish “he locked me into my room” affair. 

Tony tries to protect Wanda by keeping her in. Granted, he could have explained it better. Except here’s the deal: Tony has a lot on his plate. On top of this Accords mess, he’s still got a company to his name, which means the livelihoods of thousands of people all over the world to worry about, the Avengers’ gear, PR, and battles to deal with, his Iron Man duties, etc. etc. No doubt both the Lagos incident and Steve’s mess in Bulgaria are running him ragged trying to do damage control not only with Ross, but also with, probably, the press and maybe even the UN. Furthermore, he’s already been physically hurt. 

He simply doesn’t have the time to sit down with Wanda, take her hand, and then explain everything that’s going down, especially given that she’s hostile towards him to begin with, and would probably not listen anyway. 

Vision did try to explain. And she was fine with staying where she was until Clint popped up with his carefully not considered consequences. 

Then you’ll never make me believe that dropping 20+ cars on top of a man—a man in armor, sure, but that doesn’t make it any better, the average weight of a car being 1.5 ton—the way she did wasn’t done with the intention to cause severe physical harm, if not outright death. To me, she saw the opportunity to hurt the man she considered responsible for everything wrong in this world, and took it with relish. 

So here’s the thing. 

Wanda can judge and hate Tony all she wants. But that doesn’t change the fact that were it not for him, she wouldn’t be in America. She wouldn’t have anything to eat, or to wear, or anywhere to sleep. She wouldn’t have a visa (which must have been freaking hard to obtain given that she was a criminal), or shiny toys, or a room bigger than the average family home to be locked in in the first place. 

And it doesn’t change the fact that she has no right to that judgement and hatred while she conveniently refuses to acknowledge that, unlike Tony, who had no idea what was going on, she willingly caused harm to innocent people. 


Part 2.1: Natasha | Part 2.2: Steve | Part 2.3: Thor | Part 2.4: Bruce | Part 2.5: Clint

Newcomers Pt3

“OH MY GOD!!!” private Hesty screamed as he held onto the toilet for dear life “AHHHHHHH”

Finally his anus widened enough to let the shit out and he breathed better and his body relaxed but he continued to make odd noises. “OH GOD I THINK I JUST GAVE BIRTH!!”

He eventually made his way out of the restrooms to the horrified expressions of the non human crew, he smiled and awkwardly walked down the corridor muttering to himself about never having that curry again. His train of mind was interrupted by a mass of Humans running towards him.

“What’s going on?” he asked

“The new transport from home is here”

His eyes widened and he joined them heading to the hanger.

Polt was there in his pristine uniform to greet this Sergeant Stabby that all the Human spoke highly off, from what he could tell this Sergant likes to go around stabbing people to which they find funny for some reason. The Humans gathered and the non humans  did to out of curiosity. There was never a dull moment when you had a Human around and they had thousands.

The ship docked and the crew came aboard, having more Humans aboard was something Polt was not sure he wanted but at least these ones were only going to be here for a few days.

Then the weird stuff started, one of the Humans began sniffing, a lot which was followed by others. He had heared that Humans have a powerful sense of smell and whatever has caught their nose must be good for them. One moved towards the transport crew still sniffing making them smile.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked them and the crewman opened a small container that let off steam as it opened. Then as one all the Humans screamed as one voice.

“PIZZA!!!!” and stampeded towards the crates opening them and devouring these pizzas as if they held the secret to eternal life.

Polt turned to ask Captain Clerk about it but found he too had descended on the crates, so intent they were on getting this new food that a few broken noses had occurred but as they usually did, they laughed and carried on.

Trying establish order among them was futile but once these pizza’s were getting handed out they quietened down.

“Sorry about that, it’s been a long time since we had pizza” Clerk said his mouth still full.

“Attention, stand to for Sergeant Stabby!” someone shouted and all the Humans fell into rank and file and awaited. Polt fixed his uniform and eagerly waited for this Sergeant.

But it wasn’t a military mad that approached, it was one of their mechanics carrying a small box.

“Umm…Sergeant Stabby?” Polt asked.

The mechanic shook his head and placed the box on the ground and this odd disc shaped thing with a fork taped to it came out. All the Humans quickly saluted this thing.

“Um, Catpain Clerk”


“What is this?”

“This is Sergeant Stabby, a roomba with a fork tapped to it” he said as if it was the most normal thing in the universe and he said it with pride. The Benemar who were observing from above we equally confused as was probably everyone else.

“Sergeant Stabby, go about your duties” Captain Clerk ordered but the roomba made no noise or motion. After a few seconds Clerk leaned down nad flipped the ON switch and the roomba went off cleaning the floors.

“It’s a cleaning machine?!” Polt exclaimed.

“it’s a roomba” private Hesky corrected stepping out the way of it as it approached him.

“All this for that thing?!”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you are all dressed up” Clerk said walking off and soon enough the Humans all dispersed leaving everyone else confused.

Polt laid on his couch nursing a headache, these Humans were driving him insane and they had only been here for a few weeks. Some part of him thought it would be easier to just hand command over the Clerk and be done with it but alas he could not, then one more crisis occurred.

A knock at his door stirred him “If this is another complaint about the Humans you’ll have to deal with it yourself”

“No sir, we have receive a distress call”

“From where?”

“The Remer colony, they are under attack from the Gal”

“Divert course immediately”

Polt was on the bridge with the Benemar Chief and his clan leaders along with the Humans captain and officers. The Chief and Clerk glared at one another, they clearly did not like the other and Clerk stuck his tongue out as some kind of insult but the Chief did not understand it.

“Approaching Remer colony now”  the helmsman said and the fleet broke into realspace to see the entire planet burning, its defences destroyed and it populace fighting for their lives.

Polt looked at the Gla fleet, it was huge more than twice the size of his and who knows how many of them were on the planet.

“Plan of attack sir?” Captain Clerk asked.

“Don’t think we can, the Gal are already planet side once that happens the chance of driving them off is almost zero” Polt says with a heavy heart.

“But there are still millions of people down there” Clerk argued.

“They’re not your kind why should you care” Chief said.

“So what? Admiral if the Benemar are unwilling to take the fight to them you have thousands of Human soldiers ready willing and able to do so”

“there are probably ten times your number down there”

“Then it makes it harder to miss”

Polt looked at them both, normally he would have ordered the retreat but the look it Clerks eyes made him think otherwise. Why were these Humans so concerned about the people? They were not Humans.

“Please my men are really bord”

“Yeah and I’m PMSing like a bitch in heat I need to vent”

Polt didn’t know what that meant but he understood their resolve.

“Do you really think you can retake the planet?”

“Just give the order” Clerk grinned.

“Very well, man your pods”

Clerk banged his chest with his hands and smiled along with his officers and left the bridge, the mustering hall where the Human soldiers were gather all eagerly awaited to hear what their orders were.

“Right lads!! We’re on so lets get this done and give those Gal a dam good kicking!! Who’s with me”

The Humans cheer shook the hull as they ran to their pods that would shoot them from the ships straight onto the planets surface, this means of deployment was considered insane but somehow the Humans keep doing it and surviving.

The Benemar not wanting to be shown up demanded to go to and boarded their shuttles.

The Liberation of Remer had begun.

anonymous asked:

Trini having a nightmare then protective Kim is protective and they're adorable b/c I'm a sucker for fluff and trimberly

I proofed this twice and it still seems bad, but whatever. Here you go, hope you enjoy!

She could feel the warm saliva hitting her face, the weight of a body over her, inches from her face, the strong odour of rotting fish, the heavy breathing, and then she was being thrown across her room like a rag doll. She saw herself fighting, heaving, spazzing, anything to get out of Rita’s iron grip. She did everything she could, but it all fell short. She waited for Rita to try manipulate her, threatening her friends, threaten her, but this time was different.

“You’ve grown quite fond of those rangers haven’t you, yellow?”

Rita asks, her voice alluring, a threat boiling at the bottom of her throat, waiting to be unleashed. Trini doesn’t respond, she tries to yell, scream, kick, punch, anything, but her body won’t react, her limbs stay limp as Rita tightened her grip around her neck, pushing her harder into the wall, the smell of fish seeping into Trini’s nose, causing her to gag, her body pressing harder against the wall, trying to get away. Rita’s hands are wet and sticky, her face inches from Trini’s, her voice malicious, testing and tempting Trini.

“But I’ve seen how close you’ve grown to a particular one, that Kimberly girl, the pink ranger I believe. Would be a shame if anything happened to her.”

Rita chuckles, her voice low and menacing. Trini’s body finally responds, her legs thrashing, her arms grasping at Rita’s hands. Trini snarls at Rita, her face scrunched up, her nails scratching at Rita, as she threatens.


Trini’s voice is hoarse and strained, her threat falling flat and weak, nothing more than an empty promise. Rita just chuckles, a sly, villainous smirk spreading across her pale, wrinkled face.

“You’re too late, yellow.”

A loud, ear splitting scream pierces the air.


Trini tries thrashing again. Rita’s maniacal laughter washing over Kimberly’s cries for help, Trini’s heart starts racing, her entire body thrashing and spazzing, trying to escape.

“Trin, Trini are you okay? T, are you there? Trini!”

Kimberly’s voice calls out Trini’s dream starts to fade away, the feeling of Kim’s arms shaking Trini, one hand shaking her shoulder, the other softly rubbing her arm, her voice soft, but worried. Trini jolted awake, her entire body shooting forward, head butting Kimberly, knocking her backwards.

“Aah! Fuck!”

Kimberly exclaims, rubbing her forehead. Trini’s eyes race around the room, expecting Rita to jump at her again, her heart still racing, her hands shaking, the ghost of Rita’s hands still grasping at her neck. Trini took a few moments to remember where she was, for her breathing to steady, for her hands to stop shaking, and for her to realize that Kim was sitting right next to her, Kim’s hands softly caressing Trini’s back, her gaze soft, the hints of worry in her eyes, and something that looked all to close to fear.

Once Trini had realized that she was safe, Rita was gone, and that Kimberly was safe, she looked back at Kimberly, who gave her a hint of a smile, reassuring her wordlessly. Trini couldn’t bring herself to say anything, she wanted to say so much, how she was so worried about Kim, how she was so afraid she had lost her, how much Kimberly meant to her, more than she had known before, but the words died in her throat, and all she could do was stare, her hand moving slowly to Kim’s cheek, softly caressing her  face, making sure this wasn’t another nightmare, that Kimberly was here, she was safe, and real.

Kimberly held Trini’s hand on her face, keeping their gazes locked. She didn’t have to know what the nightmare was about, she had a pretty good feeling, but this one was slightly different than Trini’s other dreams, Kim knew that. Kimberly didn’t want to press, so she just spoke gently, her voice calm and quiet, covering layers of worry and fear.

“I’m okay Trin, and so are you. She’s not going to hurt you again, I won’t let her.”

Kimberly said, leaning her head forward, resting it against Trini’s. Kimberly could feel Trini’s voice hitch, Trini wanting to say something, but her words falling short. Trini kept her gaze locked with Kimberly, her emotions running high, she needed to know that she was right there, with Trini, and she needed to know that Kimberly cared. Trini’s eyes dropped to Kimberly’s lips, which Kimberly noticed, licking her lips instinctively, but something was different in Trini’s eyes, and as she pressed their lips together, ever so slowly, ever so gently, Trini could feel her heart flutter, she could feel Kimberly’s lips against hers, soft and warm, her home.

Kimberly pulled away slowly, positioning them back into the bed, knowing how tired Trini was, emotionally and physically. Kimberly pressed her stomach against Trini’s back, wrapping her arm snuggly around Trini’s waist, pulling her closer, her grip tight, scared of letting go, the protectiveness washing over Kim. Kimberly could feel Trini sigh contently, and couldn’t help the smile spread across her face, at how warm and cuddly Trini could be, how she felt comfortable with Kimberly, even after seeing her so afraid, Kimberly felt the same way.

Trini may have felt more safe and content, but something was itching at her, a question, something was keeping her awake. Kimberly always felt awful and guilty after Trini woke from her dreams, although nothing Rita had done was Kimberly’s fault, she always caught herself feeling guilty, blaming herself. So she she asked softly, not wanting to push any boundaries, knowing that Trini would wall up in seconds, so she didn’t demand anything from Trini, she just let the question float in the space around them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Trini sighed softly at the question, her mouth trying to utter a thousand different words and statements, but just as she had done the entire night, her words fell flat, her voice hitched, and once again, her brain disobeyed her. She desperately tried to say something, to explain her dream, to tell Kim how much she meant to Trini, how Trini couldn’t bare to lose her, how she would feel so lost, but she didn’t want to sound co-dependant or clingy, the lingering fear of Kimberly bolting, but Trini deep down, in her heart, she knew the other girl wouldn’t do that, knowing that they had both become so much to each other, a safe place, a home.

Trini let the question settle in the air for what felt like an eternity, thinking that Kim had already fallen asleep, until the words were bursting in her throat, so she blurted out, her voice strained with emotion, cracking, as she tried to convey her feelings and worry.

“Please…Don’t leave, I don’t….Just don’t leave me, please.”

Trini begged, her voice thick with emotions, past memories of abandonment filling her head, she couldn’t bare Kim leaving too.

Kim heard the emotion in Trini’s voice, she felt it, she felt her heart clench, melting into Trini, wanting to convey all the love she felt for the other girl. But all Kim could do was pull Trini closer, as reassuringly as possible. She whispered lovingly in Trini’s ear, trying to make sure the other girl knew how she felt.

“I’m not leaving Trini, not anytime soon, I won’t let myself, I couldn’t leave. Okay?”

She asks, her voice thick and hoarse, but still trying to put on a brave face. Trini didn’t say anything, she just nodded slowly, pressing her body closer into Kimberly’s, curling up slowly, while Kimberly buried her face into Trini’s neck, hoping that what she said and how she acted, how she held Trini so tightly, how she pressed feather light kisses down Trini’s neck, would be enough, and for now, it seemed like it would be.