guys read this blog

i just want to be the reason you smile


\o/ Yoooo thank you, everybody!! :D
This is so cooooooll! *hughughughug*

(Update: 603 followers ^^)

anonymous asked:

really i don't understand why kokopoop is selling this much that song is boring and it's not hype? you guys could just be making this up i wont be surprised >:// exo is nothing too compared to big groups like bts who write their own songs? that is talent >:)) your loser biases will drown on bts dust like the old smelly geezers they are

*pops knuckles one by one*

okay anon, first of all it is kokobop not kokopoop. it has earned four weeks at the number one spot on Gaon digital charts, 718,162 digital download on its fifth week, and is currently #1 on lots and lots and lots of charts - i don’t think it deserves to be called poop. again with this pathetic name insults - this is why i dont deal with five year olds ://

next, a song being “hype” is not a basis for a song to be called good or amazing. people aren’t always into those head bangin sweat inducing heart rate pumping kind of songs okay. we have our own preferences and we are supposed to respect those preferences (which you clearly have not good luck explaining yourself to more than a million people streaming and listening to kokobop in the last month)


also if your faves write their own songs, then good for them! they did well! yes that is talent and yes they are amazing artists - but hold your reigns little miss my-faves-are-better-than-yours-coz-apparently-i-think-only-my-faves-write-their-own-songs exo does too. wonderful wonderful tracks like she’s dreaming, lose control, heaven, lightsaber (the rap part was written by pcy) are all written by the members and let’s not forget the anthem of the fandom promise cause i still cry whenever i hear that and yes they composed and wrote it all. they also took part in writing the lyrics of their b-side tracks so i don’t know what you mean with your faves being better because they write their own songs because mine does too?? and they are still breaking records on top of all that so.

and hon, writing songs isn’t the only measure of one’s talents okay, not in the real world. just don’t.

lmao GEEZERS??? OLD????? our men are aging like fine wine sweetie, have you seen them cause hell yeah. i don’t ever see their ages being an inferiority or anything. your faves ages too okay it’s a normal part of life they teach us this in school come on. 

so all in all, i dont understand why you felt the need to send this to me cause i am clearly just celebrating the fact that my biases have accomplished something great. i am in no way degrading your faves UNLIKE WHAT YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW. also like what my friends say, if you don’t think my group is not a threat to your fave’s success then why the effin hell are you in my ask box saying all these?

people throw rocks at things that shine, wow i guess exo is blinding you right now so you decided to come and visit me, an exo blog, to try and drag them down? honey, sweetie, no. just no. maybe some other time. but no.

It Ethan. Behold the true @crankgameplays
He a good ice cream boi.
He totally doesnt have drugs anywhere. Look at that pure face. How could that face be anything but lawful.

In the Depths of the Sea- Chapter 3

Hi friends, it’s Marlo here! I know you are all probably a tad bit confused as to why the third chapter of a fic is going up on here, but I have made the decision to move In the Depths of the Sea, my Pirate!AU,  over here to Turtle Soup Stories, rather than leaving it on my personal blog. There are a myriad of reasons behind this shift, more than I can list here, but if you would like more information, feel free to message me on my main blog ( @marlosbooknook ).

As always, a massive thank you to my Kilt Kult pals for their constant support and advice, and an extra special thank you to the always lovely @bonnie-wee-swordsman, who actually saved this chapter.

To read the previous chapters, be sure to check my ao3 here!

Thanks and lots of love (as always)



In the distance, she saw a dark mass on the shore. A piece of driftwood was not unusual on the tropical coast, but something deep in the pit of her stomach told Claire that there was something more. The invisible tether continued to pull her forward, and she didn’t feel herself break into a run, hiking up her skirts as her feet pounded into the damp sand.
Claire stopped in her tracks and stared at the sight before her.
A flash of fiery red.
A subtle movement.
A limp hand.

Jesus H. Christ…. Claire thought as she stared helplessly at the man lying motionless in the surf.

Claire rushed forward, stumbling over the shifting sand before falling to her knees in front of the mysterious figure. He was laying on his back, a thick coating of sand masking his features, save for his russet curls.

That bloody hair may very well have saved his life! Claire thought. Had the crimson spot on the shore not caught her attention, she would never had been able to distinguish the figure in the distance, and identify it as a person. She brushed the damp curls out of his face, but it was nearly impossible to discern any obvious injuries with the mask of sand blanketing his face and exposed skin.

He was breathing, that much Claire was sure of. She could see the rise and fall of his chest through the soaked layers of clothing clinging to his muscular frame. There was no way she could lift him, and she couldn’t send back for help without leaving him to the wrath of the ocean. It was impossible to tell whether he was going to wake up or not, no way of knowing what trauma he had faced at sea before arriving on the Barbados shore. Her repeated attempts at rousing him failed- her shaking, pinching and gentle murmurs of encouragement eliciting no response. With no signs of active life, Claire’s hope was beginning to falter, as the mental images of disastrous accidents danced across her thoughts Was he a sailor? Had he slipped from the riggings and been swept away under the masses of foam, assumed to be dead by his friends and crew? Did he have a family, a wife, children, someone wondering where he was or if he was alive?

“Oh, bloody hell!”

So caught up was she in her examination of the mysterious castaway that she failed to to notice the arrival of the storm, which had been ominously looming in the distance. Only the sharp darts of rain against her skin and the vibrations of the clapping thunder alerted her of its presence. It only hastened the importance of getting her unconscious companion to safety.

“Come on you bastard, why can’t you just wake up?!” Her attempts at restoring consciousness became increasingly more desperate. Urgently she shook him, praying internally that the  jarring motion would restore some semblance of activity to the man’s limp form. His face in between her hands, Claire let out a tirade of every curse she knew, in English and French, any and all expletives she picked up from Uncle Lamb and his consortium of world travelers she knew. Fear made its home in the pit of her stomach as he remained unresponsive.

She stood up, grains of sand cascading off her skirts onto the unconscious man in front of her. Exasperated by her failure and the increasingly antagonistic circumstances, Claire ran a hand through her salt- licked curls as the cool sea breeze caused her to shiver. Below her, her unexpected companion shuddered, and Claire noticed his face pale beneath his sandy armour as a concerning blue tinge seeped into his lips.

A sigh of relief. He was moving, breathing, and it appeared to Claire that he was slowly inching towards life. But the initial joy at his movement was quickly replaced by dread as the reason for his sudden stirring became clear in Claire’s mind.

Jesus, he’ll freeze to death if I don’t do something! Claire realized with a shock. How could she have been so careless? So concerned had she been in her search for superficial, visible ailments, that Claire failed to realize the more pressing and life-threatening chill that was seeping into her patient’s bones. He was soaking wet, and the icy rain and sea breeze were sapping away any of the heat that remained in his body. For the first time since arriving in Bridgetown, Claire was unsure of what to do.  Never in her years in Barbados had she dealt with someone suffering from the cold. She knew of no medicinal herbs and no immediate cure for heat deprivation, other than to get this man to safety and warmth as quickly as she could. In her heart, Claire felt like she had failed in her sole mission. In an existence devoted aiding those in need who had nowhere else to turn, she had never held a life in her hands: a fragile, temporary, fleeting, human life.

She spared a panicked glance in the direction from which she had come in the unlikely hope that Frank had followed her, yet he was nowhere to be seen. The one time the man chooses to mind his own bloody business! She was utterly alone, save for the man clinging to life before her.

She felt something wet lapping at her toes through her stockings, looking down to realize the tide was quickly coming in. A flash of lightning illuminated the roiling sea in the distance. Looming waves towered into the air, creeping steadily closer to the shore. The fear of drowning gripped Claire and rattled her to the core. She had to get out- quickly. But she couldn’t just leave this man to his death; she had to act.

Soaked to the skin from ocean water and rain, Claire secured the arms of the red-haired giant; noticing quickly as she secured hold that his shoulder was dislocated, Claire weighed her options. There was no other way of getting them both to safety. So,  gritting her teeth and sending a mental apology to her companion, she began the arduous process of dragging him back from the surf.

The castaway’s face contorted in pain.

“I’m sorry–really, I am, but I’ll have you know that this isn’t a picnic for me, either…” Claire responded pointedly, as pins and needles sent a painful reminder of the strenuous task before her.

It would be impossible for her to transport him all the way back to her makeshift clinic, but she spied a lone palm tree back against the rocky cliff face. There, they could wait until the storm passed. She tugged, and the man gave a pitiful groan of discomfort, the only sound he had made since his discovery.

“What else would you like me to do?” Claire muttered, heaving with exertion. “It’s not like you can walk your damn self to the doctor. I am the only one here to help you. So you’re just going to have to bloody cooperate!” With each word she tugged, and Claire could see the heavy track of the man’s weight tracing their path. They had made progress, but it wasn’t enough.

Claire’s stomach turned as she remembered the people she had been unable to save, her parents, who vanished into the mist and never came back. The ocean had taken them from her, deprived her of a life with them. But perhaps she was being given another chance with this stranger. And she would not, could not, let him down.

Pull yourself together, Beauchamp. Do it for him.

So she pulled. Her back ached from the strain, and sweat dripped from her brow, mixing with the rain and clouding her vision.

“Come on, you brute. Just a little bit farther.”

By the time they reached the palm, Claire’s arms were numb and her back was screaming in pain. But they had made it. Safely sheltered from the rain under the green fronds, Claire pulled the thin kerchief from around her neck and gently dusted the wet sand off of his face, slowly revealing a sculpted jaw, coated with a layer of soft orange stubble. A strong nose and gently bowed lips followed.

I’ve found myself a bloody Adonis…

It was impossible not to admire the beauty of the man before her. His whole person was sculpted and angular, and Claire could see the taught muscles underneath his damp clothing.  She felt a slight twinge in the pit of her stomach, but it vanished as quickly as it came. An unsure pause followed as Claire gathered herself. She needed to focus on the task at hand. Her own feelings, whatever they were, could not interfere. This man’s life depended on it.

His face clean, Claire assessed his form for any other injury. The dislocated shoulder was a concern, but it wasn’t life-threatening. The onset of hypothermia proved to be her chief concern. She realized that his clothing, saturated with seawater, was keeping the chill to his skin. It was risky, and improper to be sure, but Claire knew that body heat was the surest way to restore warmth into his body.

Propriety be damned!

His shirt was already tattered, she observed as she carefully tried removing it, no doubt torn up from his time in the water. Her fingers fumbled and stumbled on the laces, a mixture of cold and nerves. After a brief struggle, she decided at last to just rip the thin fabric, exposing the toned torso beneath. A thin layer of soft red curls danced across his chest, sneaking downwards over his stomach before vanishing beneath the black waistband of his breeks. Claire could feel a flush creep up the back of her neck at the sight.

I’m a bloody fool… She mentally admonished herself.

She had seen men shirtless before, it was a common sight along the harbor, as sailors went about their business in the tropical heat. But again, she felt herself stir at the sight. Yet despite his outward appearance, and the powerful effect felt by Claire as she gazed upon his half dressed form, something about him radiated youthful innocence. Claire felt a sudden urge to protect him, despite never having spoken a word to him. She couldn’t discern what it was about his man that created such a stark duality within her, but the hard angles of him masked a vulnerability that instinctively made Claire reach out to stroke his cheek.

As she lay her palm upon his face, the faintest hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and Claire couldn’t help but grin in turn. The world seemed to freeze. The rain stopped beating above their head and the waves ceased their endless attack against the shore. For one, utterly perfect moment, Claire felt at peace, alone with the man she pulled from the sea.

The moment shattered as the stranger’s eyes shot open.

Take a Break

I’m taking a break from tumblr. Like I’m completely logging off and everything for a few days. Maybe longer.

Im having some bad mental health days and with that comes the idea that my art is the worst. I’m not improving as quickly as I’d like. I need to go back to traditional art for awhile, read some books, center myself. I am getting short tempered, stressed, and feeling like a really unpleasant person and I don’t want that to be who I am.

It also means, even though I just started it, I’m putting my ask blog on hold.

If you need to get in touch with me, I do have a twitter. I don’t post a lot on there and mostly follow funny twitter accounts and other art “blogs” but I do check it regularly. You can find me @Lozeyjones on twitter. 

I’ll reblog this once more for the day crowd but as of now I’m taking a vacation away from this site. I can’t handle much anymore.

Again, my twitter is @lozeyjones

I also check deviantart frequently (every day) so you can find me there as just Lozey.

I’m sorry I’ll be absent for awhile, but I do think that to feel better about myself and my art, I need to get off of this website to cool down and rethink things.

I hope everyone else is doing fine, however. I’ll just be on for the next 24 hours so if you need to let me know anything, tell me now or I won’t be able to get back to you for some time.

Thanks for understanding, and goodnight <3


@fluffy-nogger asked: Hoya or Lee Howon

Unnecessary explanation of my reasoning
Before I knew Howon, the only idea I had of him was “this handsome, manly guy from Infinite”. As I started following him more, I sensed his reserved personality in most times, even tho he often loves making lame jokes and tries to be loud, and I think that side of him pulled me more towards him. 
I also love how he is awkward with the people he newly met becuz that’s also how I am and it makes me realize how hard it must’ve been for him in this industry with a personality like that and seeing how far he has come makes me respect him more. I also find it extremely cute ^u^
Last but not least, in a world that women are the ones who are taken responsible for the sexual matters either regarding themselves or even men, I think he shows an extraordinary type of “manliness” and takes the responsibility of his own chastity! It makes me so happy that he thinks like that not only becuz I’m on the same page with him but also becuz it shows his strong determination! And don’t you think the fact that he canalizes this into making something creative (and perverted) is just so damn cool? :D

anonymous asked:


Pay attention to us!!

[[sigh, I just want to clarify that NO BL/M/ATSU is allowed in this blog. if this ask is even bl? ah whatever, just, please. no bl/m/atsu.]] - mod ocho


If blogs were Guardians this would be one heck of a Raid… and a strange Vendor.

@snakebunker, @septimussheep, @mobiustwixt, @soccom-operations, @ghostypants302, @therealbadasshere, @therealslimdouchebag

BPD tumblr was… really indispensable in helping me from feeling alone and giving a name to my mental state, but man it’s.. not a good environment for recovery if you consume it too much because it makes you feel like there’s literally no hope and oh my god all the ENABLING. “if ur abusive ur valid <3″

My mind was figuratively backing away slowly after reading some of those blogs :l; what happened guys

everything finds its place and leaves
– caitlin bandages a wounded vibe in her apartment. he does not invite her back onto the team. and in all fairness, she’s too busy fixating on him, her, and all of her mistakes to even ask.

[read it on ao3]

— soooo yeah…
Since I’ve finally been able to get myself a drawing
tablet I started drawing some free! horses again..
This I drew for @sougre, Sousuke (the light one) and
Haruka (dark one). 

Still teaching myself how to shade and highlight properly,
so you won’t see anything of that in this drawing.. FYI