even though i’ve only been your fan for 3 months since got7’s debut, you’ve already grown to be one of my favorite idols. you’re cute, funny, precious, talented, silly, playful, and not to mention handsome and sexy of course~ you may be younger than me but i would definitely say i look up to you hehe i love you so much! i hope you spend a wonderful day with your got7 brothers and i wish for a healthy and happy year for you! always keep smiling, ok? ♥
Oh my god I realized why MacCready makes so many shitty puns. Back in Lamplight one of the only books they had was this cheesy joke book. So they kept telling each other terrible jokes in order to cope.
As requested by prestigiouskilljoy! 30 coloured Naoto icons from the Persona 4 Arena manga, with a bonus 15 from the second Arena anthology. No credit is necessary, but a like/reblog if you plan to use any would be appreciated!
Two days, Mike Schmidt’s just sat there. Not moving. Not sleeping. Not eating. Not drinking. Not reacting. Still.
He’s seated on the couch in Mort’s home, slumped. Chin touching his chest as his head hangs; arms floppy at his sides, the hands turned up and fingers slightly curled, like dead spiders; legs stretched out yet limp. Muscles haven’t moved in two days. Eyes haven’t opened for even longer. He isn’t sleeping. It’s difficult to tell, but one might be able to notice that. He isn’t sleeping, not at all. Whether he’s aware of everything around him is impossible to tell, but his consciousness is something that is…merely implied. Somehow. A feeling, an instinct. Schmidt is most certainly awake - and alive, for that matter.
It’s weird to know that Mike hasn’t interacted with Mort in so long. Only two days, but that’s pretty long considering how attached to him he is. First boyfriend and all that. Besides, he’s sure it hadn’t been pleasant seeing him beating the ever-living shit out of the Purple Guy. Having his blood splatter onto his clothes and face and knuckles, which are still stained red. His fists crunching into teeth and punching so hard it managed to expose a bit of bone on Purple Guy’s cheek. Screaming and flailing when he’d been grabbed and dragged off of him. Only calming down when he had realised whom it was holding him.
Whether or not Caboose has tried interacting with him, Mike seems to be unaware. He hasn’t tried interacting with the dog, just as he hasn’t tried interacting with Mort, so it’d be a fruitless effort for the animal to try. Mike’s pretty creepy in this state, honestly. Still in his uniform, stained with a serial killer’s blood, not being excited or energetic or anything. Haunting. Unpleasant.
In response to this gorgeous art and some headcanons by @theysangastheyslew . I hope you like this, Elena! <3 This is sort of also a “real” version or sequel to my piece for Thursday of Royai Week 2016, which can be found here
at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song
This is perfect, Riza thinks. She is wonderfully ensconced in Roy’s arms, and the band is playing something slow and jazzy. The light of the most wonderful day of her life slowly fades beyond the horizon, and throws the courtyard into a soft shadow. The sun sparkles against the champagne glasses, and gives the white roses a fiery glow. All of their guests have respectfully given them space for their first dance together, and for that, Riza is extremely grateful. In this moment, it’s just her and Roy, holding on to one another, swaying back and forth in time to the music.
Safely wrapped up in Roy’s embrace, she rests her forehead against his. Roy’s hands on her waist are comforting and protective, and every now and again he runs his thumbs up against her sides. Her arms rest against his shoulders, and her hands clasp behind his neck, and she takes a moment to run her fingers through his soft, slicked back hair. Riza didn’t know what she would have given to be able to behave like this all the time through all the years. Back then they’d had to resort to stolen kisses in quiet corners of the office and gentle, fleeting caresses when no one was looking. There had been so many instances where they’d considered breaking things off with one another because of some extremely close calls, but in the end, the bond they shared had conquered all. After all they had been through, Riza was certain that nothing would be able to tear them apart.
As the minutes melt away, other couples join them on the dance floor, but Riza and Roy have eyes for only each other. One slow dance turns into two, then three, and eventually they stop counting. The warmth that has finally fully blossomed in Riza’s chest glows with an intensity brighter than Roy’s flames. Riza doesn’t know if she believes in God, but she knows that she and Roy crossed paths for a reason stronger than any coincidence. A feeling of glorious sacredness descends gradually upon them both, and Riza revels in the feeling.