backpack store

We’ve joked about the impending nuclear apocalypse for years (because let’s face it, it’s pretty damn funny), but at the rate things have been going, we’re starting to wonder if we should stop laughing and start sounding alarms. Right now it’s still hard to say, but until WWIII hits we’re going to remain confident that our suggestion to build a bunker and stock it full of survivalist gear is merely precautionary rather than prophetic.

So check out this life-saving equipment which every day seems increasingly more and more necessary (gulp). And even if you’re not preparing for the End Days, at least the stuff is pretty awesome:

Keeping all of your priceless heirlooms and field rations in that cheeky bindle might make a few world-weary souls chuckle, but you’ll need a heavy-duty backpack if you want to make it through winter. This durable satchel is made of ballistic nylon developed by military material experts, and is big enough to carry a 15" laptop … because if it’s the end of the world, you’ll definitely want to be firing off angry emails to the people who made that happen. Wait, will electronics work in this new post-apocalyptic era? Well, it can’t hurt keeping your laptop around as a tool to bludgeon squirrels to death. Grab the Ballistic Backpack for $99.99.

10 Items You Need (More Than A Chainsaw) In The Apocalypse


Vans US Open 2017  |  DIY Buttons with Lizzie Armanto

We took a trip to the Vans US Open pop-up shop with Lizzie Armanto in search of the perfect piece to add some DIY flare. The winner? None other than the already adorable Funville Mini Backpack. Lizzie showed off her creativity (damn this girl can draw!) and her other hidden talent (Japanese!) while making custom buttons to add the perfect bit of flare to her backpack. Want to decorate your own backpack like Lizzie’s? Get the Funville Mini Backpack in stores or online

Photos 1, 9, and 10: Life Without Andy

4 Exits (to your apartment)

this is a late bday present for @shipped-goldstandard (sorry this is late and off topic but ilysm) 

1.5k BittyParse, Bitty meeting Kent’s family (Kent’s a white passing Mexican trans man as usual ty for your time) 

Also on AO3

Bitty sleeps on the train to New York. Kent had offered to fly him into JFK. But Bitty traded him for the opportunity to skip out on ungodly long TSA lines in exchange for covering his Uber to his place. The Uber should take 15 minutes. But of course this is one of the busiest places on Earth, and sometimes Bitty feels like he has a special brand of dumb luck.

He rubs his temple as he checks everyone’s snap stories for the umpteenth time. He thinks he could’ve walked there by now. Then again, who knows how long it would take to walk around Central Park with his overnight bag. It would also be incredibly easy to get lost trying to find Harlem.

Pedestrians and bikes flicker by. He thinks he’ll get a crick in his neck from how much he’s staring up in awe. The buildings are grimy but still so brilliantly lit. Clouds continue to rumble over head. New York reminds him of ants scrambling—quick and with purpose.   

Bitty slumps further back in his seat, deciding to play another round of candy crush.

“So what are you in town for?” his driver asks.

Bitty stiffens. Part of him instinctively wants to lie. His mind already has a story about visiting his cousin who’s going to grad school at Columbia but found this cute little place in Har—

He sighs. It’s New York for fuck’s sake. If this man gives him shit, he can just open the door and walk into the world’s slowest traffic.

“Meeting my boyfriend’s family,” Bitty murmurs.

The driver hums. “When I met my wife’s parents, it was the absolute worst.”

Bitty snorts indulgently. “You don’t say?”

“Oh yea,” the driver says amicably. “Her mother was on the city council and her father owned a butcher’s shop. Her mother made a joke that if I ever hurt her, they could make my death look like a freak accident.”

Bitty shivers. “Any advice? Kinda new to this.” 

Keep reading

anticipate1003  asked:

For the ficlet thing: anticipate. 😉

He wrung his hands together, fingers twisting around each other as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His heart was practically beating through his chest. The champagne lipstick that painted his lips looked off, like it wasn’t supposed to be there now that he had put it on. Like it was only supposed to be on girls and not on little brothers.

His hair that he had let grow out was tied up in to two messy braids, stray hairs that wouldn’t stay with the other strands framed his face.

He has on one of Dean’s faded band tees, the neck stretched out to the point that it was hanging off one shoulder, exposing collarbones that had mouth-shaped bruises sucked on it.

He wearing a light pink pleated skirt that he stuffed in his backpack from a convenience store a couple states over and it’s been in the bottom of his bag. That was until Dean had found it looking for a scrap of paper.

There was a light knock at the door that had Sam jumping out of his skin and he turned away from the mirror.

“Sammy.” Dean’s voice was soft through the door, light and comforting. Almost like he was consoling a small child too afraid to step in the light. “Babe, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can take it off, pretend that it never happened if you want to. Just come out. I wanna see you, babe.”

Sam thought about it for a second, about taking the easy out. Taking the skirt off, tossing it in the trash and wiping the lipstick from his lips but he could hear the anticipation in Dean’s voice. He could only imagine the images that Dean’s brain was conjuring up.

“No…” Sam’s voice squeaked. “No… I’m coming out… just don’t… don’t laugh.”

His hand was shaking as he reached for the brass knob, turning it ever so slowly as if to draw this out. But the door was already opening and there was no way that he could turn back now.

Dean was standing just on the other side of the door, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his foot was anxiously tapping on the ground.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look up at Dean, his face already turning red and the lack of sound from Dean only made Sam more nervous. This was a mistake. He should have backed out when Dean gave him the chance. Now Dean discovered his dirty little secret and he would never look at him the same.

“Sammy babe, will you look up at me. Please.” Dean’s voice was still soft was he placed his fingers underneath Sam’s chin to raise his face. Slowly Sam met his eyesight. “God baby, you have no idea what you do to me. What this skirt…” He ran his hand up the length of Sam’s thigh, up the miles of flesh under the skirt and he groaned. A sound that came deep in his chest. “Shit Sammy. You’re not wearing anything under this skirt.”

Sam shook his head. “They were… they were too long, showed underneath the skirt.” His voice was barely a whisper, shaking a little at the end.

Dean growled, a sound that Sam wasn’t even sure if Dean was conscious that he made. “You’re perfect, Sammy. So fucking perfect.”

Neko’s 500 followers Giveaway!

I can’t believe I have a little over half a thousand people that followed me. That’s amazing. No porn bots, but I’m not sure if all of you are human. But anyway, it’s time for a giveaway! This one is a big thank you to all my followers especially and everyone that’s helped me out in some way or another the past year and a bit.

This is a giveaway for Guild Wars 2 only. If you do not have the full game, you cannot take advantage of this amazing offer. Please no giveaway blogs.

So what are the prizes?

1st Place will get two of their choice out of the following; an outfit, an armour set or a glider. So you can get an outfit and a glider if you want, for example.

2nd Place gets only one of the above, their choice.

3rd Place gets their choice of a gem store mini, backpack or a total makeover kit.


I will draw another random follower to receive 100 gold! That’s roughly 500 gems! 

To enter this amazing giveaway:

- Like and reblog this post. Only both likes and reblogs will get you into the draw. A simple like gets you nothing.

- Followers will get their names entered twice, special donators will get their name entered five times. If you have donated money or other things to me this past year, this means you have a higher chance at winning as a thank you.

- You can enter if you are not following me, and you can follow me if you want. This will not get you entry twice, however, I will be checking.

Names will be entered into a random generator and prizes are unique to those names. I will contact you via ask or pm for your in game name, if you do not reply within 24 hours, it will move onto someone else.

This will be drawn one week from now! Starting date is 22/03 and the end date is 29/03!

Thank you for reading, following, liking and supporting me. Good luck with your entry and I hope to see more of you in the rest of the year!

Teach Me

Daryl Dixon x Reader | 18+ | Smut Warning | NSFW

Summary: The reader almost gets bit on a run and Daryl is furious with her. They get back to the prison and she asks him to teach her a thing or two about self-defense against walkers and people. Sweaty training ends in rough smut, Daryl style. ;)

Warnings: Smut


You hear the gates of the prison opening, one by one, as you sit in the car with Rick and Michonne, waiting to leave the prison and go to a town nearby to gather supplies. You wipe your hands up and down your jeans a few times and take a few deep breathes, trying to calm your nerves. This was the first run you had gone on with Rick’s group and you were nervous as hell, but you wanted to prove your worth to the group.

Rick and Daryl had rescued you from a herd of walkers a few weeks, your group had been overrun by a sudden herd and you had lost everyone, you thought you were also gone until you saw Rick and Daryl run up to you, with four walkers nearly on top of you, as they chomped at you, trying to grab your flesh. The two men easily pulled the walkers off you and smashed their heads in, using their boots and couple of iron rods in their hands. They had been in the area looking for supplies at the time they heard you scream. You had never been so glad to see other people in your life.

After that they offered you a place to stay at the prison, Rick asked the three questions and you seemed to pass. The past few weeks you had been lucky enough to have a roof over your head, a safe place to sleep, and people who actually seemed to be decent human beings. It was like an out-of-body experience for this world, you were so happy to have found them. And then there was Daryl, one of the men who had saved you. Daryl was something so different, you didn’t even know how to describe him. Shy but confident, tough but sensitive, kind but harsh, he was the kind of man it would take a lifetime to figure out and you certainly would have no problem with that.

You couldn’t help but notice this confident, yet nervous, man, every time he was near you. He didn’t say much, but he always seemed to have twenty things on his mind. You wondered what it would be like to hear all those thoughts that never escaped his mouth. This run was important to you, showing the group you could handle yourself. But Daryl? Daryl was more important, in a world like this, there is no time to sit back and ponder.You wanted to be with him any chance you got.

Your head snaps back to reality as you hear Daryl’s motorcycle roar to life in front of the truck you rode in. You see Daryl look back at Rick and nod as he drove forward out of the gates, one by one. Rick followed him out and you look back, seeing Carl and Sasha quickly closing each gate behind your entourage. You bite your lip a little feeling the rush of butterflies again in your stomach. You gripped the knife in your hand tightly, almost drawing blood, you wince and put the knife back in the holster on your side, continuing to play with your hands for the drive.

Keep reading

CV$ tips

So fun fact I work at cv$ and boy lemme tell ya. You do things right and you could take half the store. So here are some tips I can tell you from working there a year and a half 

*** please note that of course this varies by location and states in regards to lp and laws about chasing and who can lay hands on you. And every store has a different amount of cameras and a different layout. It would be in your best interest to go to a store in a “"nice”“ neighborhood


- as far as lp goes, there’s almost never anybody in the store from lp or corporate unless of course it’s predictably busy. My particular store is near a stadium so when they were going to the championships, we had lp and police stationed inside the store to stop ppl from walking out with beer. 

- if there is lp, they will be plain clothes

-cameras are not monitored unless you’re being sus, but even then it’s more likely that the manager will follow you around

- we have a no chase policy but I’ve literally seen some manager ignore this and go after them in the parking lot. They also technically cannot touch you but I’ve seen this rule broken before. But I’ve also seen a guy get stopped for beeping at the door and my manager literally see two champagne bottles in his backpack, but bc he didn’t see him conceal them, he had to let him go lol.

-in my state, it’s actually legal for managers to physically stop theft from happening, but it’s against company policy. Again, this doesn’t stop some of them.

-if you wanna return something without a recipe, we scan ids. If you paid with debit, we give cash back. Ppl return expensive medicine and vitamins all the time with receipts from the garbage and merch from another store that they lifted, and we just have to give them the return. You can get a lot of money this way, just don’t do it to frequently.

SHIFTS/best times🌞🌚

- i work in a 24 hour store, so the shifts for a store like that would be something like 2 manager in the morning, along with 3 sa’s, around 7am- 3:30/4pm. Then on week days, unless it’s expected to be busy for holidays or games, another manager comes in at 3:30/4-11/12 with 2 sa’s, one leaving about 7:30-9pm. Then it’s just one sa and one manager until the night crew comes. On weekends  There’s always two manager so and 2 sa’s before 9pm. 

-the night crews are usually facing, putting up tags or shipment. This varies by store but I would not recommend going at these times bc they are bored and pay extra close attention to ppl. It’s so so sus to go at these times for anything other than wine or beer.

- on shipment days, which where I’m at is 2 times a week, is fridays and tuesdays. The truck could come anywhere between 11am to 7pm. On these days, there is obvi more staff on the floor, but the night crew handles the majority of the unloading. Still Be careful bc the truck could come early and the managers will put it up in that case. There are also more sas these days. I’d say find out the days near you by asking something like “"you’re out of this when will you get more”

- basically if you notice only one or two sa’s, And don’t see a manager around, you’re probably good to go find a blind spot. 


- avoid pharmacy, cosmetics, liquor, allergy and electronics. Obvi this varies by store but the best places I’ve noticed to conceal is grocery, unless it’s by the door like the one in my store, cards, hair brushes, and seasonal. Just do not let anyone see you and you’ll be good. Remember that cameras are probably not monitored, but act like they are.

-rdif tags are on some cosmetics, nails, all alcohol(along with those cylindrical tops you need a magnet to get off), expensive types of vitamins and medicines, and batteries. But sometimes the towers are old and shitty like in my current store so if you conceal it under a few lays in a bag or on your person you might not even set them off. The liquor tops will always go off tho.

- if you beep, just keep walking. I know everyone says this but for real. Don’t stop. If we don’t see you conceal it, there’s nothing we can do.

-dress normally, be kind and be quick.

- DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT BRING A LARGE BAG OR BACKPACK INTO THE STORE UNLESS ITS FOLDED UP IN YOUR CART/BASKET. This is an automatic red flag for us to keep an eye on you. You’re better off concealin on your body or in the restrooms. If the store has a minute clinic, then they also have a restroom. The ‘take two and put on back’ method is probably the best way to go about things.


- cameras are intimidating, but almost never monitored

- if you beep, keep walking

- As long as nobody sees you, and you don’t conceal on camera ( which I know sounds like genaric advice but avoiding sa’s is not hard at all bc we have to stay up at the front anyway) you can literally get away with so much.

-we do have pictures in the back of people involved in organized retail crime, but thats it. They pretty much stay there forever.

All in all, just be safe, use common sense and you’ll be sittin’ pretty. Of all the people we’ve caught in our store lifting, the one mistake they all made was concealing in front of someone. Not even on camera. If someone sees you, it’s over, just dump and go. Say you forgot the your card or something, ppl do that all the time. Again I work a 24/7 store so I can’t speak for stores that close or more suburban stores.

Good luck babes💖💖😘 


Hoseok rummaged through his drawers, opening them and searching frantically. “Aish~ Where is it?” he muttered to himself. “I can’t believe I actually ran out of paper. Who runs out of paper?” He realized that he needed some desperately because of a surge of inspiration: lyrics were popping through his mind. He had been in a stump for his lyrics lately, and though he had the compositions done, he was in a slump for lyrics.

And knowing him, the words would be fleeting quickly enough, and he needed to write down this random burst of creativity, and he needed to do so now.

But as it turns out, he ran out of paper.

“Ah, it’s-” he whipped his head to the clock, his eyes widening. “2 AM?! I’ve been contemplating lyrics for that long?”

He grabbed a hat and a jacket, slipping on his sneakers and stumbling out of his apartment. He ran down the stairs, thinking of the places that would be open at this hour. He knew this drugstore that was open 24/7. It was within walking distance, too, which was even better.

He sped walked to the place, repeating the lyrics in his mind. He was a little past halfway there when he passed something that had him abruptly stop.

A woman was curled up on a bench, sobbing into her knees.

Hoseok thought to himself that he had to write down these lyrics so that Yoongi and Namjoon could see what he had come up with, but he shook his head, knowing that when someone was troubled, he’d be unable to ignore it. He cursed himself, turning to walk to the bench.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he stood in front of the crying woman, who still didn’t notice his presence.

“Er- hi,” he said, trying not to make the situation more awkward than it already was. “Are you okay, miss?”

The woman looked up at him, her eyes puffy in the dim city lights. Hoseok thought to himself what a stupid question it was to ask, especially since she clearly wasn’t okay. Hoseok scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks turning crimson. “I-I mean… why’s a pretty girl like you crying on a bench this time of night?”

She looked down, blushing as well. “It’s nice that you care, sir, but I’m f-fine,” she sniffled.

“Clearly not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Hoseok said. “You clearly need company. Want to talk about what’s wrong? I’m a stranger, but I’ll listen.”

She shook her head. “Not much I want to t-talk about at the moment.”

“That’s good, too,” Hoseok nodded, sitting next to her. “Would you mind if I talked? I heard that helps sometimes, and I’m good at talking. A lot. Like, way more than is necessary, really.”

The girl giggled despite herself, looking to him. “Okay, stranger. You can talk. I need someone to take my mind off things.”

“Alright,” Hoseok smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll start with my name. I’m Jung Hoseok- but my friends call me J-Hope because it’s more of my stage name, but I’ll let you call me Hoseok. And your name- wait, don’t tell me. You don’t want to talk. Understandable.”

The girl stayed silent, wiping away tears and listening to what the boy said.

“Well, I write music. I produce it, but I’m not a singer per say. I rap,” Hoseok laughs. “Though, sometimes I don’t feel as though I’m as good as my friends, Rap Monster and Suga. They’ve been passionate about writing music and making lyrics and rapping since they were young, and I don’t have as much experience. My company had to teach me because the main thing I’ve been involved with before was dancing.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, and the boy nodded eagerly.

“No, really. I did underground dancing for a long time, entering battles and such.” He made his eyebrows dance, raising them up and down repeatedly. “And I’m not that bad if I do say so myself.”

The girl smiled softly, and Hoseok grinned. “There we go! A pretty for a pretty girl. Don’t cry, smiles are better.”

She blushed lightly, glancing back to him. “Things are just… hard, Hoseok-ssi.”

“I know they can be,” Hoseok said softly. “But I think you just need hope. As long as you’ve got hope, nothing’s over.”

“I can’t exactly find hope nowadays,” she sighs.

“Well, I’ll be your hope then,” Hoseok grins, turning to her. “I mean, my name isn’t J-Hope for nothing, huh?”

The girl breaks out into a full out laugh, and so does he. It felt good for her to laugh, it’s been a while. Hoseok’s breath hitches with what she does next, his cheeks going crimson with her actions. She hugged him, her arms around his neck and her head buried into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Hoseok,” she whispered. “I really needed this, so thank you for giving me hope.”

“N-No problem,” he said, flustered. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her as well, patting her back softly. She pulled away, their eyes meeting.

“I hope this isn’t my last time talking to you, Hoseok.”

“Y-Yeah, I hope so too.”

She gets up, wiping away her tears so that her cheeks were still red, but at least dry. “I’ll… see you later,” she says timidly. Hoseok watches from the bench as she walks away until she eventually disappears into the shadows.

He smiles to himself, intrigued by the young woman.

“… Shit, I forgot my lyrics!”

For the next few days, at exactly 2 AM, Hoseok would return to the bench. He’d wait for half an hour, and return back home. Eventually, he finished lyrics, though he had the sneaking suspicion they weren’t as good as the first. Still, he found himself intrigued and distracted by the young woman he met, his mind never wandering far from her. Though they only had a brief interaction and conversation, he wanted to know more.

That Tuesday was exactly one week from the day he met her, and he decided that if she wasn’t there that night, he would no longer return. He walked to the bench, expecting it to be empty as usual, but instead found a figure curled up atop it.

The girl had been waiting for him, and she looked up to see him. “I was waiting for you,” she says softly. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want this to be the last time I’d talk to you.”

Hoseok found himself smiling.

For the next few weeks, or perhaps, months, they’d meet every Tuesday morning at exactly 2 AM, talking about their problems or about their day, or usually in her case, about random things. Some days she’d have a bruise on her cheek or a nasty cut, and she simply told him she was no dancer like he, so she lacked grace.

One day, Hoseok walked to the bench, finding the girl lying down on the bench, pressing an ice pack to her eye.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his face paling to see her like this.

“It’s nothing, Hoseok,” she mumbled. She began to sit up, but Hoseok sat down, pulling her back to where she rested her head on his lap.

“Let me see,” he insisted.

“I’ve got an ice pack, I’ll be fine.”

“Please don’t argue.”

She sighed, removing the pack. Her eye was swollen, turning black and blue. Hoseok hissed lowly, grimacing at the sight as she put the ice back over the wound. “Who did this? Is it the same reason you keep having those bruises?”

She sighed softly. “My mother died a year ago giving birth to my baby brother. Ever since my dad’s been getting drunk, and he’s been taking out his frustration on me for the past few months.”

“Why don’t you run away?”

“I would, but I’ve got my baby brother to look out for,” she says. “I mean, if I leave, Dad will kill him. And I can’t call the police, Hoseok, I can’t.”

Hoseok pursed his lips. “It’s none of my business, so I won’t pry. I’ll be here for you, no matter what. Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t. Not as long as you’re with me,” she whispers, reaching up to touch his face, moving a strand of hair away from his forehead. He smiled softly, stroking her hair.

“You’ll fly,” Hoseok promised. “Angels always find a way to soar.”

She snorted. “How could I soar if I’ve already fallen?”

“How can you fall if you’ve never flown?”

“Hm, contradictory, aren’t you?” she smiled lightly. “I hope I find a solution.”

“You will,” Hoseok guaranteed. “I’m sure you will.”

Weeks continued. Some days she’d have a swollen eye or perhaps a cut, and Hoseok made sure to bring his backpack where he now stored a first aid kit. She’d allow him to treat her wounds on some mornings, and others she’d treat herself.

One day, he came to the bench, surprised that she wasn’t there. Still, he sat there, waiting and waiting until it was 6 AM, and he knew she wasn’t coming. He went home, taking the day off by texting Yoongi that he wouldn’t be able to come.

He found that burst again, and he remembered what those lyrics were. Luckily for him, ever since that first time the boy had always kept an extra stash of paper, and as he was scribbling down the lyrics that matched perfectly with his composition, he found his attention directed to the TV that he had absentmindedly turned on.

The local news was on, and Hoseok’s eyes widened with what he heard next.

“… a young girl of the name Jeon Jangmi and her baby brother, InJung, are reported as missing. It is suspected that the girl ran away, taking her brother with her. It was all discovered when she hadn’t been seen at work for five days straight, and, concerned, her coworkers checked up at home, only to find the girl’s father’s house trashed with beer bottles and other drugs. Authorities are currently looking for the girl, and the father is currently being held in jail because he is suspected of abuse. If you know anything please call the following number-”

Hoseok clicked the remote, watching as the TV screen clicked to black. He found himself smiling softly, shaking his head.

“I’m proud you decided to finally soar.”

A year passed since he met Jeon Jangmi. Hoseok kept the anniversary to himself, and he was half-glad that she was never found. Of course, he was still partially worried, but he kept himself hopeful that she was thriving wherever she was.

He bought a banquet of roses, and on that cold Tuesday, at precisely 2 AM, he stood in front of the bench, placing the flowers gently on the seat for his lost friend.

He felt a small tug at his pants, and he looked down to see a toddler, either 2 or 3, staring up at him.

“A-Are you Jay-Hoe?” the boy said, his words barely clear enough to understand.

Hoseok snickered to himself. “Indeed I am. Where’re your parents, little boy?”

The boy shook his head. “I’m here w-with my sister.”

“Sister?” Hoseok furrowed his brows. “Well, where is she?”

The small boy pointed past Hoseok, and Hoseok turned around to see Jangmi grinning at him, her hands in her pockets.

“Hey, Hoseok,” she said, her voice quiet as she stared at him.

“Hi, angel,” Hoseok breathed out, barely believing his eyes. “You’ve grown your wings, huh? Have you finally begun to soar?”

“I will now that I have hope,” Jangmi smiled.

anonymous asked:

How would kid Keith or dad Shiro react if Lance let it slip that he was feeling kinda useless?

Hello there nonny! Aw, this tugged at the heartstrings especially after season 2. Poor, insecure Lance makes anything angsty. But no worries, Dad Shiro and little Keith to the rescue! Sorry this took a bit longer than the others, but I hope you still enjoy it because it was so much fun to write! I love these two buddies and this family! Enjoy and thanks so much for sending in these asks guys, I love them!


Lance didn’t often consider him to be a third wheel. Or a fifth, or even a seventh wheel. But that was only if you were counting Allura and Coran, but he decided that since they were just school teachers, he didn’t need to count them at the moment in their little group.

However, that was before Pidge won the science fair, at only eight-years-old. Before Hunk got an award for best gourmet meal in the third grade. Before Keith got the Golden chair in music class for his Japanese folk song he performed in front of the talent show audience. Lance didn’t need awards or trophies or Golden chairs to know that he was a good boy. Why his mother and father told him that every single day before school.

Though, they told all of his older siblings the same exact thing too.

No, no. Lance did not need all these fancy awards to know that he was validated and needed. At least, he thought he didn’t need any of it, but now…now he wasn’t too sure. Ever since Keith had gotten his Golden chair, Lance had begun to realize that he was the only one in his group who hadn’t really accomplished anything yet.

Pidge was on their way to being some major corporate, big scientist. Hunk was going to open his own restaurant that would be even better than his mom and dad’s, and Keith was already turning out to be an award winning soldier just like his dad. And don’t even get Lance started on Shiro. The man had more medals, awards, diplomas and gold trophies that Lance was sure to be able to count. He would know. He’d snuck into - er, peeked, into an old room in the Shiroganes basement and had seen all of Shiro’s accomplishments in boxes.

Lance was already eight-years-old and what had he accomplished so far?

A stead C in Math, a passion for action movies and the ability to recount the alphabet backwards. Otherwise, he’d done nothing! Nothing! Lance was already eight and if time kept going as fast as it was at this rate, then Lance was sure he was going to be left behind by his successful and big shot “Friends.”

Lance didn’t want to be left behind.

He didn’t want to be useless.

Not right now. He wanted to feel like he was a part of the group and not slowly falling back behind everyone, as if watching them from the back as they advanced on without him. He tried thinking about what he could do in order to become an elite, non-useless member of his friends group, but so far he’d run dry with ideas.

He thought about trying to join a boxing club because he was good at fighting, but then he remembered that Keith mentioned having to want to try boxing. There was no way Lance was going to try to outdo the mullet.

Then he thought about doing the astronomy club, but he remembered that Pidge would join if he did and there was no way that Lance would be smarter than Pidge. Next he thought about joining a dance club but Hunk was already in a Hawaiian dance team and he was awesome at it. So far, Lance’s list had more cross out lines that not, and he’d even tried to just point down redeeming qualities that he had which no one else had.

Is Friendly Hunk is friendly to EVERYONE

Winning smile Apparently Shiro can never take a bad picture

Good at sports So is Keith apparently, and he doesn’t even like sports

Good with animals Okay, so Red bit me once BUT it wasn’t my fault

Not a loser

Lance sighed heavily, clutching the list in his hands before dragging his pencil to strikethrough the last though. If he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t make him a useless friend then what else was there for him?

“Lance! Are you coming over today?” Lance almost jumped out of his skin when Keith finally walked up to him after class. Hastily, he shoved the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket and looked up to see Keith walking his way. Keith frowned when he noticed Lance trying to quickly shove something in his pocket but decided to keep quiet. His friend had been off for the past few days, and Keith was hoping that it would pass soon and that Lance would be back to his annoying, stupid self.

It was worrisome.

“Uh, oh yeah.” Lance sighed internally. He’d actually forgotten that last week he’d made plans with Keith to stay at his house with Shiro, until his parents got off work. A week ago the eight-year-old couldn’t wait to spend the whole day with his best friend Keith and Keith’s dad, however, he was feeling down on his luck and the array of awards in the Shirogane house did nothing to make Lance feel any better.

“Yeah. You okay?” Keith eyed his friend critically, watching him from head to toe. Lance squirmed under the scrutinized gaze and quickly averted his eyes by ducking his head.

“Yeah! I’m great!” In the next second, Lance shot Keith a bright, wide, fake smile. One that Keith easily could see through, but he decided to drop it. Keith knew not to push anyone into talking, because more often than not he clammed up when he was upset. However, that didn’t stop Keith from wishing that he could somehow help his friend.

“Alright. If you say so.” Keith said quietly before hiking his backpack up onto his back. Lance followed suit, still smiling even when Keith looked away when Shiro pulled up with Red in the car. Lance’s smile only dropped when Shiro exited the car and Red excitedly bounded up to Keith in order to happily lick all over his face. Lance slowly made his way over to Keith, noting how Red didn’t even spare him a second glance.

What do I care? It’s not even my dog anyway. It’s Keith’s so obviously it’s stupid.

“Hi there Lance.” Lance was startled out of his thoughts but Shiro’s gentle voice. Suddenly Shiro was right beside Lance, while Keith continued to pet Red several times in a row. Lance swallowed, quickly forcing himself to smile brightly.

“Hi Shiro dad!” Lance waved, causing Shiro to chuckle.

“Are you excited to get to play with Keith this afternoon?” Shiro asked as he took both Lance and Keith’s backpack to store in the trunk of the car. Lance and Keith waited patiently at the side of the car with Red while Shiro put the bags away.

“Yeah! I’ve been super excited for this, since last week!” Lance said quickly and Shiro frowned for a second when he noticed how tight Lance’s smile seemed to be. As if he was forcing it. Which was highly unusual for the bubbly, energetic boy.

“That’s good to hear. How are you Lance?” Shiro quickly tried to change the topics subtly, when he noticed the tense ridges in Lance’s shoulders as Lance and Keith got into the back of the car. For a second, and only Shiro could see this, Lance’s smile faltered until it was replaced with another fake smile.

“I’m awesome! Thanks for asking, Shiro dad!” Lance said, buckling himself up despite the sick feeling bubbling in his stomach. In the back of the car, Shiro noticed one of their old T-ball medals sticking out of a pocket. The one where Keith was voted MVP.

You couldn’t even get that.

“Are you sure? There’s nothing bothering you?” Shiro tried once more, looking in the rearview mirror. He was saddened to see that Lance continued to smile as if nothing was wrong.

“I’m great! Don’t worry about me!”

However, Lance quickly turned away to look out the window of the car and he missed the look that Dad and son shared with one another. Both knew something was wrong and they were determined to help him.

No matter what.


“Alright, what’s wrong with you?” Keith finally demanded a couple of hours later. He had kicked down Lance’s pitiful attempt at a sandcastle (he wasn’t even trying so Keith didn’t feel all that bad) and towered over Keith with his arms folded over his chest.

“Hey! You jerk, why did you do that?!” Lance shouted. He wasn’t really upset that Keith had knocked over his sandcastle, but with everything that was building up inside him was beginning to wear him out. He was feeling emotionally exhausted right now, more than anything and he just wanted to go home.

“You’re acting stupid. I wanna know why.” Keith didn’t move from his spot with his arms folded over his chest. Lance wasn’t an intimidator to him; he never was and he was more than a little worried about his friend right now. Lance was acting way too sad to be normal and Keith did not like it one bit. He wanted his best friend who was always silly, always smiling and making everyone feel better with his (lame) jokes.

“I’m not stupid! You are!” Lance shot to his feet, kicking sand in Keith’s direction, knowing full well that the other kid hated sand. Keith stood firm despite the attack.

“No, you are! You’re all moping and being stupid and stuff! Knock it off, what’s the matter with you?!” Keith cried out, jumping back this time when Lance tried to kick sand at him again.

“No! I’m not stupid and you need to stop being a jerk! There’s nothing wrong with me!” Lance hissed angrily, voice rising steadily.


“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”



Lance and Keith both jerked back when hands grabbed at the backs of their shirts. With ease, they were both lifted into the air and forced to look back at Shiro, who was staring at them in disappointment. Immediately Lance and Keith slunk back, already knowing full well that one was to not aggravated the already disappointed dad, and their lower lips wobbled. Shiro brought them both inside before setting them each down in their own chair facing Shiro, then he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, now, do either of you boys calmly want to tell me what that was all about?” Shiro asked. Both boys remained silent, pointedly refusing to look at each other. One of Shiro’s eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you two best friends? Best friends don’t yell at each other and kick sand at them.”

“Lance started it!” Keith cried out, to which Lance gasped. He opened his mouth to protest but was silence by a look from Shiro.

“Keith, we do not point blame at our friends like that.” Shiro scolded and Keith’s shoulders slumped.

“But it’s true!” Shiro could see Keith’s lower lip wobbling dangerously and his eyes were shinier than usual. He knew he was close to a freak out from Keith, but he couldn’t let Keith just get away with his behavior. It wasn’t fair to Lance.


“Lance has been sad all day and it’s making me sad!” Keith finally exploded as a few tears dripped down his cheeks. Lance was startled into silence, watching his friend sniffling sadly, while Shiro remained calm and firm in not picking sides. Although, Shiro was a bit shocked to see how well Keith had picked up on Lance’s emotions.

“That might be, Keith, but that doesn’t mean you get to kick his sandcastle and call him stupid.” Shiro reprimanded softly. Keith sniffled again, finally defeated by his father’s disappointment and Lance felt his guilt rise tenfold. You even manage to tear apart a family. Keith sniffled a few more times before nodding.

“I’m sorry Lance.” Keith apologized immediately before Shiro bent down to give him a hug and give him a tissue. Keith latched on quickly and Lance saw a small smile on Shiro’s lips.

“There, now that’s not so bad. I’m know you and I are both worried because we know Lance’s is sad. But a friendship doesn’t work if you force someone to talk to you. You have to ask.” Keith nodded sadly in Shiro’s arms and Lance could begin to feel tears making their way down his own cheeks. As Shiro looked over at him in alarm, he began to try to speak to the boy.

“Lance, what’s -”

“It’s because of that!” Lance finally shouted loudly before pointing at the Golden chair award in the living room. Lance dissolved in hiccuping tears and Shiro blinked, torn between looking at Lance and the award. It seemed Keith was just as confused.

“You’re sad because of that award?”

“No!” Lance shouted stubbornly. “Yes. I mean, not the award itself but because you have it!” Shiro thought that he was starting to get a picture of what was wrong with Lance. Gently, he reached out to scoop Lance into his other arm and he sat down on the chair with both boys in his lap. Keith messily tried to wipe Lance’s face.

“Did you wish you won the award?” Keith asked quietly and Lance’s sobs grew louder.

“No!” He cried. “It’s yours and you won it but I didn’t get anything! I never get anything! Because I’m just a loser!” By now, Shiro was figuring out completely on what was bothering Lance and it made his heart ache that Lance was feeling so hurt and sad at his age. “Pidge is smart! Hunk’s kind and a great cook! You’re awesome and get lots of awards just like Shiro and I’m a nobody who will never do anything in my life!” Lance blubbered before burying his face into Shiro’s jacket. Shiro ignored the tears and snot that littered his jacket as he tried to soothe the boy.

“Do you want to have my trophies?” Keith asked hesitantly.

“No! I just wanna be important!”

“But you are important!” Keith argued hotly, glaring at his sniffling friend. Lance blinked through blurred vision and tried to glare at Keith but failed miserably and Shiro shushed him. “You’re very important to me, and to Hunk especially and Pidge. And Ms. Allura loves you and Coran and you’re important to daddy too, right daddy?” Shiro blinked before nodding quickly.

“Of course. Lance, you’re a very important boy in our lives, all of our lives.” Shiro said softly, wiping away the tears that racked down his cheeks.

“You’re really nice and always making sure that everyone feels good or asking them if there’s anything you can do to make them feel better. You make the most ridiculous faces that always make us laugh and tell the stupidest jokes, even if they are kinda funny.” Lance felt a small flutter in his chest when Keith spoke, looking directly at him. He hiccuped a few times but remained quiet.

“You always make sure nobody picks on Pidge, Hunk or Keith and you always have a smile on your face.” Shiro added softly, much to Lance’s surprise. “You always help me put away the bags when you come over and you say thank you at dinner and snacks. You’re one of the most polite boys ever and you were our best short-stop on T-ball.”

“Yeah and your drawings are usually pretty good and you are awesome at Gymnastics - which none of us can do by the way.” Keith continued excitedly. “Just the other day you did this amazing flip on the bars that I wish I could do.”

“It was pretty cool wasn’t it.” Lance smiled hesitantly and Shiro and Keith laughed.

“Yeah buddy it was. You’re a pretty amazing kid and I hope you know that.” Shiro smiled gently and Lance’s heart fluttered. He shyly looked away only for Keith to grab his hand. “I know it hurts when everyone else around you gets awards, or trophies or medals and seems like they’re succeeding when you’re not, but there’s much more to success than gold Lance, and many people fail to have that their whole lives.”

“Really?” Lance’s eyes widened dramatically causing Shiro to chuckle.

“Really. You have more love and greatness in you than men I’ve known for decades. You are going to succeed far in life Lance, you just have to be patient.”

“Yeah.” Keith cut in before the conversation got too mushy. “Besides, sad Lance is annoying. I much prefer happy Lance because he’s pretty cool.” Keith blushed at the little speech and Lance blinked, feeling touched at his friend’s words. He hadn’t expected Keith, nor Shiro to say what they had but he was happier than ever that they had. They made him feel warmer than he had in a while and gave him new hope that he would succeed.

“Thanks guys.” Lance blushed and couldn’t help but beam at their words.

Later that week after Lance had earned first place in his gymnastic tournament, with Keith, Shiro, Hunk, Pidge and his entire family in the stands, Lance noticed a note folded up in his bag. Opening the note, he couldn’t stop the blinding smile that stretched over his lips, lucky to call these people his home.

Is Friendly Hunk is friendly to EVERYONE (IT’S IN HIS NATURE TO BE KIND)

Winning smile Apparently Shiro can never take a bad picture (THIS IS TRUE)

Good at sports So is Keith apparently, and he doesn’t even like sports

Good with animals Okay, so Red bit me once BUT it wasn’t my fault










I was in desperate need of a new (and bigger) backpack after I managed to rip open my old backpack when I tried to fit my gym clothes in it… and to celebrate my new backpack and because school is coming up soon here is what’s usually in my backpack :)

The backpack I will be using is a Beckman “college” 34L.

1. My 13″ macbook pro. 

2. Notebooks. The notebooks I will be using in class this year is gridded A4 from Notabene, my tiny with dots from IKEA and also some lined (brown) from Clas Ohlson.

3. Whichever book I’m currently reading. I tend to show up to school a little early and then it’s always nice to have something to read.

4. My bullet journal. This one is a moleskine gridded large classic one.

5. Folders/binders. The pink one is where I keep my practice exams and “cheat sheets” that I have made for my Math (R1) exam I’m having this fall, and the other one is to keep loose papers in.

6. My beloved pencil case.  On which most of my friends have written their name or something else on.

7. Calculator.  A necessity when 90% of your subjects require you to do complicated math…

8. Lip balm.

9. Markers. 

10. Super cute page flags/markers. For those wondering I got them at Panduro and they were cheap!!!

11. Scissors. Just in case I would ever need them

12. Post it’s.

13. Headphones. Because my teachers always surprises us with videos and clips we have to watch on our own in class…

14. Hair elastics. Because I have long hair that tend to go in the way…

That’s what is in my bag/backpack, and I would love to see what you carry around with you too!


UNSPKN part 9

Where brothers can’t have a normal day

Set after the events of “Flowey Is Not A Good Life Coach” fanfiction, comic will focus on beloved skelebros and their great need of psychotherapy after all that happened.

Also it’s not a spoiler, it’s just my version of (another) epilogue. Heh.

Prev - Next


Original fanfic - here

Side note - Sans here is based on my friend, @wonszu X3 they always took backpack to the store to carry water bottles easily. Such a sneaky creature <3