all time fancy get

I LIVE. 

I have escaped the land of spiders and death and have almost recovered from crippling lack of sleep. Almost. 

More importantly, I’m planning to do an extra long day of Liveblogging to celebrate the start of Tsubasa Month on May 1st, which is only a few days away. 

Of course, because Timezones exist purely to spite me, it won’t technically be May for everyone. BUT, YOU KNOW. WHEN HAS LOGIC EVER STOPPED ME BEFORE?

Here is a rough guide to when I plan to start:

Don’t panic if that’s a strange time for you. I should be doing it for quite a while, and you won’t miss anything if you’re out living your life.  

I’ll also answer the messages still waiting for me before then, but not right now. Now I’m just going back to bed. 

UNTIL THEN!

Lyric Stories: V(Jihyun) Smut

Characters:MC, V/Jihyun, Yoosung, Seven(secondary), Jaehee(secondary), Jumin(secondary,) Zen(Secondary)

Song: “Guys My Age” By Hey Violet

NSFW?: Mhm.

Requester: Me :)

This does contain sexual content and other aspects that will probably no be safe for work. Or contains spoilers. So, read at your own risk!

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I keep thinking about Mettaton going to the beach and all the problems that would entail but what haunts me the most is that because he’s a robot and his shoes are pretty much attached he can’t walk well on the sand and has to wear sandals like this

anonymous asked:

Hey buddy!! I'm at a tediously long shift at work, and I'm kinda suffering, so I was wondering if you had any silly headcanons for Ace Attorney you wanted to share? Maybe for Nahyuta? Thank you ;v;

goodness me, i have no idea when you sent this, i’m so sorry!! i haven’t done a lot for ace attorney lately (oops, sorry!) so i might be a little off or have forgotten some things, but i can certainly try my best!! forgive me if i get something wrong!

  • there were a few months in nahyuta and apollo’s childhood when nahyuta’s Entire Head was Almost Completely Without Hair
  • (this was not by choice)
  • the story goes thusly: nahyuta didn’t like his bowl cut and always lowkey admired apollo’s little horns and complimented him on them all the time
  • apollo let this get to his head and fancied himself a master hairdresser and offered to do nahyuta’s hair
  • Fun Fact Apollo Did Not Know What He Was Doing Not Even A Little Bit
  • Second Fun Fact craft scissors do not work very well on hair
  • Third Fun Fact if your craft scissors are not cutting through a very big bunch of hair then your best bet is to simply abandon the practice
  • Fourth Fun Fact apollo does Not know when to give up
  • (by the end of this process nahyuta looks like he’s been attacked by a cow who started munching on his hair and got bored halfway through)
  • well okay, decides apollo, maybe that didn’t work, but it’s alright, i know where dhurke keeps his razor, we will simply erase the evidence
  • Fact The Fifth: this does not work and now nahyuta looks like half his head has been attacked by a temperamental lawnmower and the other half was attacked by a second, angrier cow
  • apollo, mildly panicking, suggests a mysterious “hair removal” paste they find in the medicine cabinet (it’s dhurke’s but nobody can know this)
  • apollo carefully reads the instructions and then proceeds to smear it all over nahyuta’s head
  • The Procedure Is A Success and all evidence of hair tampering is gone because all hair is gone
  • except for one minor repercussion which is that when i say ‘all over his head’ i did mean All Over His Head and that is the story of how nahyuta didn’t have eyebrows for a full month
To my boss - I can see this eating you alive.

My boss (we’ll call him Steve) is one of those guys who’s always attached to his email. Whether he’s at his desk or answering them from his phone, he will stop the conversation immediately and read the email. No warning. The sound will go off, he’ll stop mid-sentence, read and reply to every email. This annoys me. A lot. While going over a very important project (well into the $40-$50 million dollar range and long-term), I’m briefing him on talking points and covering the power point on the projector. A few slides in, he gets an email. Immediately Steve pulls out his phone and begins reading and replying. I’ve dealt with this for years, and this is where the revenge begins.

I’m on slide 6, and while he’s buried in his phone, I progress the slide to 13 and patiently wait for him to end. He looks up, oblivious to my trickery. Mind you, he has to present this within a few hours to top-tier business management, and this a project that we’ve been working on for months. I finish briefing him on the rest of the slides, we take lunch, and eventually the guests arrive for their briefing. Steve’s taking charge of the meeting, and I retreat to my office, where I can still clearly watch the presentation but don’t have to participate.

Steve’s hob-knobbing, talking our guests up, laughing and joking. As he’s talking to one particular VP, he gets an email, and in normal sh*t-lord fashion, he stops mid conversation and reads it. The VP did not like this, not one bit. He interrupts Steve’s email reply with a hand wave and a, “let’s continue.” This is where I get my second idea for revenge.

Eventually Steve gets to the power point presentation, yammering on like he’s the one who spent all the time on the fancy fly-in’s, formatting, research, etc… Until he gets to slide 7. I can see him pause, break his jovial manner, and begins reading word for word what’s on the slide. He’s no longer chipper and poised, he’s floundering. Little does Steve know that I’m about to launch an email war on his psyche that he is ill prepared for. See, since I’ve been in my office, I’ve been collecting all the emails that came in that needed replies, drafted the replies, and have them sitting on my desktop. I’ve CC’d Steve to every one of them, because I’m just that good of an employee. As he skips to the next slide, I send the first email. I hear his phone jingle. He pauses and instinctively reaches for his phone, throwing him off his presentation. He looks around, and then continues. A minute later, I send the next email, then after a short pause, the next… And the next… I can see him sweating bullets, his brain imagining some catastrophic failure somewhere in our building, in shipping, in product sourcing, etc… But he can’t check his emails without breaking from the presentation and pissing off the executives.

It’s still going on. I have about 8 more emails to send, and he has about a hour until he’ll be able to slink away and cower over his phone like Gollum holding the one ring.

I’m glad I went to work today.

Updates:

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and how could we not forget a human metta

he is beauty

he is grace

he has vitilligo and stretch marks because i said so

twosidedsana  asked:

What do they want out of life that they are certain they’ll never have? Any recurring dreams?

Originally posted by larapaulussen

Embraelle doesn’t think too much about the future, at least not in any specific detail. She exists very much in the moment at all times, with only passing fancies and desires left unfulfilled. She will simply get what she wants, most of the time, or it proves impossible, she’ll pout for a moment before something else catches her attention. 

Perhaps, some small part of her, craves a ‘family’, like how others view it? She’s never had that, and the father she eventually came to know is lost. It’s unlikely she will bear any children of her own, either. None of this would be in any way a conscious train of thought on Ember’s part, however. :)

Thanks, @twosidedsana

In a relationship it’s fun to just chill in sweats, order fast food, and cuddle up to a good movie. But other times its nice to get all fancy and dressed up. 

I think one of my biggest disappointments in Holt not having more dolls is, love or hate his style, he’s the only boy I could see in like, an outrageous high fashion type thing.

Like the girls get really fancy costme-y outfits all the time but even on the rare occasion boys get nice clothes they tend to stick to a more realistic spectrum.

The way they’ve written most of the boys it would be OOC for them to choose something like that and they’d probably be uncomfortable wearing it. (Like, even other boys on the outrageous side seem to be doing it unintentionally? And it’s only considered out-there cuz it’s not so fashionable.)

On the other hand Holt’s only fashion ‘NO’ seems to be wearing anything he’d consider boring. 

2

The funniest thing by far about recent Girl Genius/Steven Universe crossover discussion is how the conclusions that Tarvek’s gem would be in his forehead and that Tarvek’s weapon would be gauntlets were reached independently, which led to the issue of how he would get his weapons out of his gem.

(Didn’t have specific gems in mind for anyone here, because I seriously don’t understand how gem assignment works. Pearls aren’t even rocks, I don’t get it. I guess in this interpretation Tarvek is a strawberry child who looks like he has a terrible sunburn all the time. He didn’t get a fancy coat because long sleeves + gauntlets?? so instead he has…double half cape…wing thingies. Then I tried to incorporate his original color scheme and I have regrets.

Yes the gauntlets have fleurs de lis on them.)
4

So I guess this’ll be my first contribution to the fandom? It’s really been long overdue. Anyways I’ve been practicing watercolor painting and decided to paint some Bills, because he’s always my go-to for drawing and color practice (and the only thing I know how to draw but that’s besides the point).

2

“It rang…”
“Yup.”
“Think they…heard it…?”
“I’m sure they did.”

I used palette 2 from here

The best 5 Seconds of Summer fan art on the internet - The good, the slightly bonkers and the totally hilarious

CAN YOU LOT TEACH US HOW TO DRAW PLEASE?

5 Seconds of Summer aren’t just a band anymore - they’re actually proper muses these days, basically modern day versions of the Mona Lisa, the bird with the pearl earring and that gal in the giant seashell, who inspire some majorly talented artists every single day. Yup, YOU LOT.

One of the best bits of a fandom is all the incredible fan art that pops up online, so I thought I’d gather together some of the best pieces on the internet inspired by 5SOS and drawn by you, from the seriously good, to the slightly bonkers to the totally hilarious. And bloody Nora you lot have got the skills to pay the bills haven’t ya?

An amazing pencil portrait of Luke and Mama Hemmings.

CalPal’s secret power is actually looking snoggable in sketch form.

I even fancy Mike-Ro-Wave’s sexy shading. Interesting.

WHAT IS THIS SORCERY. That’s a pencil drawing for gawds sake.

An awesome recreation of the Don’t Stop comic strip by one clever duck.

It’s not a secret that I’m just a REALLY GOOD ARTIST, either.

Umm, can I buy this off you and stick it to my face at all times please?

Someone’s been getting fancy on Photoshop and it turned out awesome.

Please turn these into earrings so that I can carry them with me at all times.

MINION 5SOS. So cute it hurts my face.

I’m starting to suspect that you lot are secretly attending art classes at Hogwarts.

Ahmahgahd, these cartoon 5SOS thingies are weird but wonderful.

Petition to throw splodgy paint at real life Mikey to recreate this beauty.

WHY ARE YOU SO CLEVER SERIOUSLY. How are you doing this?

Is this the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen? Probs. Stick it in the Louvre immediately.

Well I know what I’m doing at the weekend. SO COOL.

This is intense and beautiful and I’m genuinely attracted to a coloured pencil drawing.

Is drawing Ashton single? I’d probably contemplate dating him tbh.

Err… let’s ignore the fact that this is a tiiiiny bit creepy and just say it’s cute instead.

Michael wants another slice, Michael wants another slice, Michael wants another slice

Is it unfair to say I love this one more than all of my family members combined?

Hurry up and turn this one into a merch poster for me to buy PLEASE.

I haven’t been this attracted to cartoon since Prince Eric. Help.

This is literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I want the rest of the comic.

ALL SHOES SHOULD BE 5SOS SHOES.

Turns out Calum’s cheekbones are particularly beautiful when shaded in pencil.

Please teach me how to be really good at something.

Consider my mind officially blown.

Christ on a bike, when you’re all famous artists working for Pixar and Disney and stuff, can you please remember the day that Hollywood Express included your 5SOS drawing in a fan art story? Thanks a bunch.

ATTENTION ALL WALTER ROBOTICS EMPLOYEES AND FANS OF ALL KINDS!

This next week will be a party- why? Because we are starting Walter Worker Wednesdays! So to kick it all off, we’re having a full week dedicated to all Walter Workers!

Alright kids, this is how it’s going to go down: each day of the week will have a theme/prompt of sorts. On that day post any fan art, fan fiction, headcanons, cosplay, ect. ect., (You get the idea) of your Walternates and tag it #WWWEEK and we’ll put it up here on the Fanbot Friday blog! Yay!

Show your Walter Worker spirit! Be as creative as you want, and overall just have fun with it! If you have a question of any kind, don’t be afraid to ask. The prompt/themes are below the cut. (Tell your friends!) We hope to hear from you all soon, and thank you for choosing Walter Robotics!

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The Clockwork Tiger

Here’s a little story I wrote on Twitter a couple of weeks ago.

With a terrific illustration, drawn on the go by Sarah McIntyre.

A toymaker had two young daughters. One was good and beautiful, the other was wayward and brilliant. They lived in a cottage next to a wood that was plagued with fearsome wolves. Their father was old and losing his sight; their mother had been dead for years. The two girls grew increasingly afraid to go into the forest alone. And so the brilliant daughter stole into her father’s workshop one night, and started to build a guardian that would keep the two girls safe.

               For twelve nights she worked in secret, by the light of a single lamp. She used her father’s work tools; his watchmaker’s kit and his soldering irons and the many cast-off mechanical parts from the toys he had discarded. And night by night her creation grew, until on the twelfth night it was almost complete; a magnificent clockwork tiger, with eyes of luminous amber glass, a magnificent growling head and stealthy, terrible, silent paws that would strike in defence of its mistress.

               But on the twelfth night, the good and beautiful daughter awoke to find her sister gone from her bed. She called her father immediately, and together they discovered the brilliant, wayward sister in the father’s workshop, putting the finishing touches to the marvellous clockwork tiger.

               The father was angry that his daughter had entered his workshop without permission.

               “How many times have I told you,” he said, “that girls do not work with craftsmen’s tools, or build tigers from clockwork!”

               And so the father fastened a heavy padlock on the door, and kept the key around his neck. But he had become too old to see clearly enough to use his tools, and so for years, his workshop remained locked and abandoned, and the marvellous clockwork tiger was left in the dark, growling softly to itself.

               The sisters grew up. The good and beautiful daughter married a man from the village, and had two good and beautiful daughters of her own. But the brilliant, wayward daughter preferred to go hunting in the forest. She would have liked to ride a horse, and maybe carry a gun, too - but her father always refused.

               “How many times have I told you,” he said, “that girls do not ride, or hunt boar, or handle dangerous weapons!”

               But the wayward, brilliant daughter never listened to his words, but went hunting with a bow instead, until one day she fell foul of the largest and most savage boar in all of the forest, and, having no horse, was killed.

               The good and beautiful daughter grieved for her brilliant sister. And the father, relenting (a little too late) now opened his old workshop with the key that he still kept around his neck, and found the clockwork tiger there, still growling softly to itself. For a long time, he inspected the work of his brilliant, wayward daughter, marvelling over the craftsmanship of the clockwork tiger. Then he fastened a heavy chain around the clockwork tiger’s neck and gave it to his good and beautiful daughter.

               “Soon I shall be gone,” he said. “This tiger will be your guardian. Keep it close as you walk near the woods, and you will be spared your sister’s fate.”

               The good and beautiful daughter did as her father commanded. Until the day she died (giving birth to her youngest daughter), she was never without the clockwork tiger by her side, and neither wolf nor wild boar ever ventured anywhere near. And as she lay on her deathbed, she called her good and beautiful daughters to her side, and gave them the clockwork tiger, telling them never to venture into the woods without it.

               The good and beautiful daughters duly obeyed their mother. But it was their sister, who had entered the world just as their mother had left it, who was fondest of the tiger. She grew up as wayward and as distressingly brilliant as the girl who had built the beast, and she would often roam in the woods, with the tiger at her side, while her good and beautiful sisters stayed at home with their needlework, or eyed the young men on the way home from church, or looked after their father.

               “Let her have the beast,” they said. “What do we need with a tiger anyway?”

               The wayward, brilliant sister grew quickly into young womanhood. When their father died, the good and beautiful sisters moved away into homes of their own. The younger sister, however, stayed in her grandfather’s old house, and opened up his workshop, and marvelled at the things he had made in the days of his youth. But there was nothing as marvellous there as the clockwork tiger, even though it was old now, and its amber eyes were milky with age, and there was a tremor in its paws on some cold and wintry days. But the wayward, brilliant sister was sure that she could help revive the beast, and she spent many days in the workshop, discovering her grandfather’s tools and slowly, but certainly, learning his trade.

               Meanwhile, the good and beautiful sisters laughed at her behind her back.

               “How ridiculous,” they said. “How will she ever find a man? Fancy spending all your time in a dusty old workshop, getting oil under your nails, and all for a stupid old tiger that doesn’t even work properly anymore.”

               But the brilliant, wayward sister paid no attention to them. Instead, she made a new pair of eyes for the clockwork tiger, and oiled its secret machineries, and took the rust from its ancient claws, and made it purr like a kitten.

               The good and beautiful sisters began to laugh more openly. “What a silly girl she is,” they said to their husbands and friends from church. “Why does she need that old thing anyway? There haven’t been any wolves anywhere near the village for years and years.” (Of course, the reason there were no wolves near the village was precisely because of the wayward sister and her clockwork tiger.)

               But the wayward sister paid no heed. In her grandfather’s workshop, she began to make herself a mechanical bow, for hunting wolves, and then a mechanical horse, on which to ride through the deep woods, with her tiger by her side.

As the weeks and months passed, her good and beautiful sisters became more and more contemptuous, both of their sister’s obsession, and of the wolves in the forest.

               “All the wolves have been hunted to death,” they said to their friends. “If anything, we should be protecting these animals, not encouraging their destruction.”

               The ladies in the village agreed. To be fair, it had been such a long time since wolves had presented any danger at all that many had never seen one. Led by the two sisters, they went to the toymaker’s workshop, bearing placards and chanting: “Save the wolves! Tigers, out! Save the wolves! Tigers out!

               The brilliant, wayward sister heard their protest and went outside. “Don’t you understand?” she said. “The role of the clockwork tiger was to protect you all from the wolves. It is the reason you are all still safe.” 

               “Safe?” repeated the ladies. “You are the threat to our safety. You spend all your time in this workshop, doing things no lady would do. You have disgraced our family, made us into a laughing-stock.”

               “That isn’t true,” said the brilliant, wayward sister. “In my grandfather’s workshop, I have discovered many things. Things that will change our lives for good. Come inside, let me show you.”

               But the brilliant, wayward sister was all dusty from the workshop; her hair was unkempt; her dress was torn; her nails were broken and grimy with oil, and the ladies would not listen to her. Instead they took their placards into the heart of the forest, where the wolves still roamed free.

               “Tigers out! Save the wolves!” chanted the ladies, dancing and waving their placards.

               The wolves, attracted by the noise, came out of the undergrowth. Several of the poor ladies, hampered by their long skirts, were savaged to death. Others ran, and were lost in the heart of the forest. And the good and beautiful sisters returned in tears to the village, to find that the wayward sister had taken her clockwork tiger and her mechanical crossbow, and ridden off on her mechanical horse to new and exciting adventures.

               The good and beautiful sisters never mentioned her again. They both married well, to handsome men who promised to look after them, and had good and beautiful children. The wolves moved back into the outskirts of the village, but since no-one dared enter the woods any more, none but the most reckless (or drunk) ever came to any harm.

               As for the wayward, brilliant sister, the villagers never saw her again. But there are many stories of her, and of her clockwork tiger, and of the many things she did, and of the many places she saw. And as far as anybody knows, she never ceased to be wayward and brilliant, but travelled the world with her tiger, scandalizing right-thinking folk and beautiful ladies everywhere.