we-start-partys

Happy Gikwang-Day!!

Hello my dear B2uties!

In South Korea it’s already the 30th March and for us it’s a day to celebrate! It’s our Gikwang oppa’s birthday today!!!!

LET’S CELEBRATE IT TOGETHER!!!!!

But wait…. THERE ARE NO SUBMISSIONS FOR OUR BIRTHDAY CHILD?! Okay, let’s hurry, we have to get at least 6 submissions for him together so we can start the party! (Otherwise I will go really sad to bed tonight Q_Q)

Send the submissions for him HERE or HERE! I will be here and waiting for the submissions -^^-

~Admin I.Ris

"What do you want to repair?" How about my ovaries?

feel no sorrow, feel no shame
come tomorrow, feel no pain

i hate this show it makes me feel things

youtube

ive been looking for this song since last year and now FINALLY ;u;

we start partys - season

Need to get my tour playlist ready… LTA, Proceed, Deaf Havana and We Start Partys (these are only the ones I don’t have on my pod yet) definitely on the list, just need to persuade my mum to buy them all for me tomorrow before I have to leave for the show tomorrow night.

Gotta be at soundcheck around 5/5 30ish, and I’ve gotta take all my tour stuff with me there and then to work, then Sunday morning, I leave. Crazy times. I still need to go to town buy some stuff, go food shopping and pack. Oh dear haha

fic: Cardiovascular

In a small town just out of Bergen, the new Doctor goes for a walk to clear his head.

Ten II/Rose. 3k, PG. On Teaspoon once approved, and AO3.

The Doctor was terrified.

It was an odd sensation, being scared liked this. It was different from the type of fear he was used to – the fear of death or Daleks or being unable to prevent some sort of catastrophe. That particular brand of fear was so much a part of his everyday life that he was quite used to it, and more than able to channel it into genius or productivity or adrenaline. He’d lived with that sort of fear so often, for so long, that some people probably thought he liked it. It was a motivator, something that kept him running even when he otherwise might have stopped.

This was different. This was terrifying.

He laid on his back atop the hotel bed sheets, staring up at the ceiling through the dark. The room was silent apart from his own breathing and the perpetual drip-drip coming from the bathroom sink. Some part of him – some human part – thought that probably he should go to sleep. He could almost feel it, that unfamiliar sense of physical exhaustion, and he knew from years of observation that human bodies tended to perform poorly without rest. If he didn’t sleep now, he’d have to the next day, and likely for longer. It would be optimal to sleep now.

But his stomach was a tight, uncomfortable knot, his heart felt like it might burst from his chest, and he couldn’t seem to turn off the dozen questions playing on loop in his mind. Could he really live like a human? Who was he, really, without the TARDIS? What would he do each day, stuck in the same place and time?

What the hell would he do if Rose decided she didn’t want him?

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I’m doing a project soon where I know the entire cast! Even now I’m doing a job with Eddie Redmayne, who I know.
— 

Douglas Booth