what a threat.

Another humans are weird space orcs idea because I really like thinking about it. What if aliens have no idea how to hide their emotions? Like, they suck at poker because they can never keep a straight face or anything. or, on a darker note, their ship is hijacked and they can’t keep the fear out of their faces, but all the humans look cold and emotionless to them. Other aliens hating having to bargain with humans becase we can bluff and keep our emotions in check so well, but when they get frustrated it’s all over. Pirates threaten the space ship and they send the human to do negotiations, and the pirate talking is super confused because no matter what threat he makes, the human just doesn’t seem to be fazed one bit.


Someone please, feel free to add to this, I love to see what else people come up with!

@space-australians

Arya started playing the “game of faces” as soon as she entered the room

The game consists in making a lie sound like a truth. 

Arya’s lie became obvious the moment she said she wondered what it would feel like to “wear those pretty dresses” and “be the lady of Winterfell”. Arya would never do such as wearing dresses and she has never before expressed any wish to rule over anything, not even her home. 

The moment Arya handed her sister the blade (pointed towards her stomach and not Sansa’s) the game was over and she hinted that what she said (the “threat”) was a lie. ARYA WOULD NEVER KILL SANSA.

Arya did this not because she “despises” or fully mistrusts Sansa, but because she doesn’t trust LF. SHE IS WELL AWARE THAT LF IS THE ENEMY.

Arya was playing the game and winning, and you’re all bitching about her being just a murderous psychopath 

huhuhh this was originally for a request for jasper leading a battle and then it sorta just ended up being jailbreak-y lol

i cant reblog this bc the op blocked me but apparently this is what they were receiving ‘death threats’ over:

so yeah make your own judgement

8

         Top 15 MTV Scream Relationships (as voted by my followers):
               07. Noah & Audrey // “We could team up: Bi-Curious and the Virgin.”

Humans are stubborn. They will often disregard the dangers or foolishness of an endeavor if they believe it must be done.

Human-Megan was the first recorded example of this trait. She was called to the bridge during the time that a small landing party was sent to a planet she insisted was a “Death Star” simply because of its highly metallic atomic makeup.

Everything seemed to be proceeding as normal. The landing party arrived successfully, and began to survey the surrounding terrain, searching for any signs of life. Occasionally, the captain would glance in Human-Megan’s direction, in hopes that she would offer her strangely accurate insight on the progress of the mission; however, he was given nothing but incoherent mumbling about “bad feelings” and the need to “screw this noise”.

But then the mission fell into disaster. The landing party, as cautious as they were, found themselves ambushed by a group of cybernetic lifeforms, who dragged them beneath the planet’s surface after firing several devastating shots to their scouting vessel.

The captain frowned, pressing two of his four tentacles together as he considered their new situation. It would not be wise to send anyone to retrieve their fallen crew members – – it was likely they would be killed within the next few minutes. This in mind, he gave the order to resume flight towards the nearest inhabited system in order to refuel and collect new crewmates.

“What the hell?”

Those are for the bridge ceased preparations to resume flight for a moment, observing Human-Megan in confusion. She seemed suddenly distraught–she was trembling, her hands clenched into what her species called “fists”, teeth bared in something that was most definitely NOT a human smile.

“Aren’t you going to send someone after them?” she said incredulously, waving a hand harshly in the direction of the monitor.

“Human-Megan, I fail to see the logic in your statement,” the captain stated calmly.

“The logic in my–” The human interrupted her own words with a sound that set hairs on end and jolted the nervous system. If her shipmates didn’t know any better, they would have called it a growl.

“They’re our CREW MATES!” she cried, eyes darting back and forth as if silently damning all present for not taking her meaning. “More than that, they’re our FRIENDS! You can’t just–no, you WON’T just ditch them down there!”

The captain raised an eye-ridge. Was his human–was she threatening him? Despite himself, a shiver of fear raced down his lengthy spine–he had heard tales of what ignoring human threats had led to, and those tales were not to be taken lightly.

“Is that insubordination, Human-Megan?” he inquired, struggling to keep his own voice level despite the ever-growing fear in his stomach.

“No, that’s common-****ing sense,” she spat in return. “You don’t leave shipmates behind like that. You just don’t. What if that was you? Would you be okay with us just abandoning YOU down there?”

Again, confusion. “I believe you have met our first officer. He is perfectly qualified to act as captain until another can be appointed. There is no reason to lose crewmen unnecessarily.”

For a moment, he thought he had successfully gotten through to the human. She didn’t respond, simply staring at him, breathing erratically, mouth slightly open in such a way that for a moment he was forced to consider that he may have BROKEN his human.

But then she reacted. She pursed her lips and–spat at him.

The crew members who had done research on human culture physically recoiled in shock. She had actually SPAT at him–a human sign of absolute loathing and lack of respect. The captain himself was visibly shocked, observing his human almost blankly as his brains struggled to make sense of her actions.

She spun about, hissing a vile “Fine,” at those around her with a venom that made all near her flinch. Without another word she marched towards the lift, reaching out and grabbing an officer’s stunner directly from her waist before exiting.

Everyone resumed their work after a moment. Humans were strange, they were well aware of this by now. This was just another strange human behavior. Granted, human insight on situations was often valuable, but this was not one of those situations. This was the human refusing to see sense.

However, a few moments later an alarm was triggered, and a crew member appeared, breathing heavily, at the entrance to the bridge.

“Sir–captain,” he gasped. “The human–”

“What?”

“She–she stole a scouting vessel, sir,” the crewman said, his voice trembling. “She is en route for the planet’s surface.”

Chaos ensued on the bridge instantly. Their human was RETURNING to the danger? What could possibly have possess them to do something so illogical? The captain, minds reeling, immediately opened a comm line.

“Human-Megan, what are you doing?”

“The right thing, assholes,” a venomous voice shot back. “Why? You gonna stop me?”

“Human-Megan–”

“Oh, don’t ‘Human-Megan’ me,” she snapped. “My NAME is Megan. Just Megan. And if you’re gonna just leave them to die, then what do you care if I go after them? You weren’t all broken up when they got taken, why should I be any different?”

It was then that the comm line went silent. For much longer than was productive, the bridge remained still and silent, with baited breath, awaiting the fate of their human. Was she truly going back to that place? Perhaps she was simply “bluffing”, as they called it. Tricking them. She was being strangely vindictive today–was this more of this behavior?

However, after a few tense hours the GEV registered the presence of the scouting vessel–significantly battered and charred–returning to dock in the ship’s bay. The landing party had returned, injured but alive, led by a frighteningly frazzled and blood-drenched Human-Megan, stunner in hand and fire in her eyes.

It was with a strange mix of awe and utter terror that the captain approached the feral-looking human. “You…you were successful in rescuing them.”

For a moment, the human was silent. She turned to face the captain, no longer furious, but strangely aglow, radiating such strength that the captain was intimidated by her very presence.

“There’s something you should know,” she said, no longer furious, but victorious. “It is NEVER okay to leave one of your own behind. No matter the circumstances, no matter the likelihood that you’ll die getting them to safety, it is NEVER okay to just ditch them in a dangerous situation just because you might not be able to save them. Got it?”

The captain did “get it”, although not quite as she seemed to, and made a note to himself to upgrade the human handbook with a new insight:

“Humans are capable of impossible things. If crewmembers are ever in serious danger and it is likely a rescue mission will not be successful, humans will find a way to MAKE it successful regardless of the odds. We are eternally lucky that they are on our side.”

i watch it play out on my facebook feed. a cutesy video plays about a wife and a husband texting each other. she bothers him with messages, he almost types “fuck off bitch” but says something nice instead. in this video, the wife is at fault. he doesn’t listen to her, he doesn’t come home, he ignores her messages. she’s a crazy bitch for getting mad at him. 

my teacher asked us why marriage rates are going down. what do i know. i see instagram posts where a girl makes a joke about chloroforming a boy and i don’t find it funny. i see plenty of people who are perfectly happy and i see just as many who are broken, deeply. i see boys all the time unable to meet their girlfriend halfway - stuck, somehow, wanting to be open but knowing he can’t be. there’s a theory that the reason so many women are unhappy is that women have multiple deeply intimate relationships in their friend groups while men only have a partner. isn’t that sad. isn’t it strange. 

the girl i knew in high school says “omfg this is me and u dan”. she’s talking about a post where married couples want to kill each other. my mother once asked me why i am so scared of touching. why the first time people show affection is the same time i start running. the comedian onstage uses his wife as a trampoline. all around me, people are laughing. the trouble is that jokes always have a bit of truth in them. i almost text him “haven’t heard from you in a while” but instead i turn off my phone. 

there’s a lot of things i don’t understand, i guess. bachelor parties where everyone gets wrecked to celebrate his last days of “freedom”. the idea men are giving up so much to be with just one woman. the idea that a woman who is showing toxic behavior is just a bitch, and not a serious threat. what do i know. sometimes it makes me sick. when i was little i believed in love. 

but why do people constantly equate nightmares with marriage?

There are roses on Derek’s doorstep.

No note. No scent trail. After determining that there is nothing inherently magical or deadly about them, he spends the entire rest of the day researching symbolism and archaic demon customs, trying to figure out what kind of death threat he’s just been handed.

It doesn’t occur to him until nightfall, when the neighbors start discussing their romantic dinner plans at a decibel he has trouble tuning out, that he realizes the flowers might not have been delivered with malicious intent.

Because, apparently, today is Valentine’s Day. And apparently someone decided that Derek should receive flowers to celebrate the occasion.

Derek Hale has a secret admirer.

He honestly would have preferred the death threat.

Keep reading

one of the best parts of today’s episode, and possibly the best highlight over all?

Casey Jones straight up murdering a man, and saying “Whoops.”

his whole expression, his tone of voice, my god.

I don’t know who animates for him specifically, but let’s give them a slow clap everyone. because this part right here, this split second scene? it gave me more emotional impact than any other portion of the episode, and actual chills down my spine.

Casey Jones attempted to kill a man, and probably didn’t feel anything but pure hate for him. god damn.

It occurs to me that the reason Todoroki is so chill about Bakugou throwing giant fits is because he’s already faced worse at home and he knows what bluster vs. an actual threat looks like

If I’m murdered

I want to share this in English because I think this is very relevant to every women out there.

On May 3rd, the body of Lesvy Berlin Rivera Osorio was found inside one of UNAM’s campus on Mexico city. She was left propped on a phone booth, strangled with the cord of the public phone around her neck. She was 22 years old.

The PGJ (not sure how to translate but it’s something like the General Court of Justice prosecutor) recently released a statement that was brought up based on several interviews with people that were close to Lesvy, including her boyfriend.

They were very good at mentioning that Lesvy had not been attending classes as she had dropped out of school recently.

They were very good at mentioning that she drank.

They were very good at mentioning that she lived with her boyfriend outside of marriage.

They were very good at mentioning that the night she was murdered she had been out with friends probably either drinking or doing drugs.

They were very good at mentioning that she dared to be outside, alone, at night.

They were very good at pinning the blame of a murder case on the victim herself, but they were no closer to finding the actual perpetrator. (You know, the person who ACTUALLY STRANGLED HER WITH A PHONE CORD?)

They used the phrase “found dead” instead of calling it what it really was: MURDER.

They made no mention whatsoever of her boyfriend being a suspect, despite the fact that he was the last person to see her alive, that they had attended the same party that night, and that they had a fight right before her murder after which (according to him) they parted ways angrily.

I’m not saying he is guilty, but perhaps if she had been a “good girl, grade A student” she would deserve justice and a proper investigation of her death instead of the PGJ violating the confidentiality of a still ongoing investigation by releasing these personal facts Lesvy in the media, as if that justified her murder?

I am tired of this and I’ve been holding back tears all day.

WE ARE BEING MURDERED, AND THE BLAME IS PUT ON US.

Violence against women happens everywhere, not just in distant places. Lesvy was killed in the middle of a college campus.

If you were killed, what facts about your imperfect life do you think they would bring up on the statements, on the news media?

This is how the hashtag #SiMeMatan (If I’m murdered) began. Because it seems to be always our fault, for being at the wrong place, with the wrong clothes, or at the wrong time (things not fit for “proper ladies”) and never the fault of the person perpetrating the crime.

Back when I saw Kelly Oxford’s hashtag about sharing our stories of harassment I remembered a similar movement that was made in Latin America a bit earlier called #MiPrimerAcoso (my first harassment) I realized that we face the same struggles, regardless of what language we speak.

This is why I’m writing this now, because I think you should know about Lesvy’s story and we should all be heard.

So here goes mine:

If I’m murdered:

It would be because I lived by myself in my apartment.
It would be because I confront people that catcall me on the street.
It would be because I like wearing knee high boots and stockings.
It would be because I dyed my hair a lot in whacky colors.
It would be because I hang out more with men than women.
It would be because I go out alone at night without the company of a man.
It would be because I drink when I go out.
It would be because I was flirty and friendly to everyone.
It would be because choose to have sex without being married.

You know what the worst part is about this?

That every woman who is tweeting this hashtag is very well aware that they could be next, and that the official responses might not be too different from Lesvy’s case.

Heck, even women that have marched in outrage at UNAM and women that have tweeted disgust at what happened have started receiving threats online.

Please stay together, and stay strong.

Why do I have a horse? Why is it named Threat? Why is this 0 day old horse on Tumblr? Why is Threat dead? Was I to much of a threat to Threat? Did I accidentally kill Threat? Is this what my humanity has come to? Have I killed this pixel horse and neglected it’s life to the point of pixel death?! Was I the true THREAT all along?

softwordsandblondecurls  asked:

I'm so happy you have requests open again! Do you think you could do either (your choice) Gabe, Jesse, or Zarya swooping in and stopping someone who's flirting heavily with their very shy s/o in a really possessive manner? Your writing is amazing and so are you!

Your stomach flipped flopped. Your back was pressed against the wall, your arms wrapped protectively around your middle as you tried to look anywhere but the face of the taller man that had effectively trapped you. His arm was propped against the wall over your head, his body not pressed against yours but leaning close enough that you could feel his body heat roll off of him. He had ignored your gentle refusals, taking it instead as a sign that you were playing hard to get. Your voice kept dying in your throat as you tried to ask that he move back and let you pass.

“Now babe”, the man started again, leaning a bit closer and making you flinch. “How about that number?”

“N-no thank you”, you managed to squeak out, eyes squeezing shut as you prayed for someone or something to get rid of this jerk.


Gabe

Your entire body jerked as Gabe grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and roughly shove him away from you, anger rolling off of him in thick waves. He moved in front of you, glaring down at the man who was trying to push himself off of the floor.

“What’s your deal bruh”, the man tried to snap before seeing the murder in your boyfriend’s eyes, his words dying on his tongue. Scrambling back this he managed to push himself up, stumbling up and away. “Man fuck that, ain’t getting beat up for some bitch.”

“What the fuck did you say cabron”, Gabriel growled taking a half step toward him, only to stop when your arms wrapped around his waist. “Y/N…shit. You okay?”

You nodded your head against his back, squeezing him tighter, clinging to him making you feel safe.

“Thank you…”

Zarya

“Do we have a problem here?”

Zarya deep, lilting accent flooded you with warmth and relief, her pink-nailed hand resting heavy on the man’s shoulder. The man flinched before sneering mockingly at up at your pink haired girlfriend, turning to face her, attempting to brush off her hand to no avail. Zarya had a small smirk on her face, brow cocked up as he confirmed just how weak. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, his face twisting into a mask of pain, the man dropping to one knee before Zarya released him, bending close to his face with a menacing look.

“I will break you.”

The man paled before scrambling away, running away holding his shoulder and bits of his pride. Your eyes were practically glittering as you stared at your girlfriend, the Russian bodybuilder smiling coyly as you, opening her arms wide. You dove forward, wrapping your arms tight around her muscular torso and giggling happily.

“You’re so amazing!”

Jesse

You squeaked as you felt a hand grab yours, your body being yanked to the side. You suddenly felt yourself completely engulfed in the familiar sweet smell of cigar smoke and warmth, an arm wrapping tight around your waist. Your head spun as you tried to reason where you were, looking up and seeing the face of your darling cowboy. You practically melted in relief, leaning back into Jesse as the coils of anxiety relaxed. The man that had been hitting on you seemed confused before growling in agitation as he looked Jesse up and down, immediately dismissing the cowboy as any kind of threat.

“What the fuck man”, the stranger growled, taking a half step forward only to freeze.

McCree hadn’t moved but you knew what he was doing, knew the look that could fill his chocolate brown eyes when someone threatened his loved ones.

“Now woah there”, Jesse drawled out, arm wrapping tighter, protectively around your waist. “I do believe the lady so no. She was looking mighty uncomfortable as well. So why don’tya skedaddle? Wouldn’t wanna cause a scene, now would ya?”

Something in McCree’s words  seemed to click in the man, the man shooting you one last glare before stalking off. Your arm gently hugged McCree’s, sighing softly in relief.

“Thank you…”

“No need to thank me sweetpea, anythin’ for you.”