anonymous asked:

BC that anon in the past didn't include 707 and Jumin in their ask about reacting to Nyan Cat (even though they're reaction is probably self-explanatory) can you write about that?


  • OMG his face is priceless
  • he just smiles 
  • “Look at the little rainbow cat MC! Look how  it flies!”
  • you can bet that he already ordered a nyan cat costume for Elly online
  • she is not happy about it


  • you’ve been talking up this video ALL week
  • and you are SO EXCITED to show him this
  • and as soon as you pull up the video and he starts laughing
  • “MC, I created Nyan Cat.”
  • and just
  • of course he did
  • why are you not surprised 

Every artist needs an alley—some narrow, weedy, urine-soaked passage to call home. In the Paris of the fifties and sixties, an alley called the Impasse Ronsin wasthe alley to be: Brancusi, Max Ernst, Yves Klein, Jean Tinguely, Martial Raysse, Niki de Saint Phalle, and Claude Lalanne all worked in a squalid studio there. (Those last four, as it happens, have all contributed portfolios to The Paris Review.) As James McAuley tells it, the artists shared “a single toilet but many beds, cheap food but priceless ideas … It was also on the Impasse Ronsin that, in 1961, Niki de Saint Phalle, a former cover girl, launched her career as an international artist with a literal bang. For her ‘shooting’ canvases, she, along with friends such as Robert Rauschenberg, would fire guns into bags that concealed pockets of paint. This was somewhat of a Ronsin ritual, as Yves Klein had done much the same with the ‘Monotone-­Silence Symphony’ the year before. He had conducted an orchestra as nude women danced covered in blue paint, plastering their bodies on canvas as they twirled. In both cases, what mattered was performance as much as product.”

This and more in today’s arts and culture roundup.

geneticexperimentkeybladeweilder  asked:

Mira for the name thing?

Full Name: Mira
Gender and Sexuality: Female/hetero
Pronouns: She
Ethnicity/Species: Dewott
Birthplace and Birthdate: shores of Route 13
Guilty Pleasures: Gossip
Phobias: She panics when she’s dizzy or senses compromised
What They Would Be Famous For: Fastest butterfly stroke 
What They Would Get Arrested For: knocking over priceless art
OC You Ship Them With: N/A
OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Barty out of sheer frustration
Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Comedy
Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Black comedy being funny
Talents and/or Powers: Skilled swordslady, fast swimmer, quick to learn languages
Why Someone Might Love Them: She’s a jokester.
Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s nosy.
How They Change: 
Why You Love Them: She’s almost a genderflip of sinnoh, personality wise.


Outfit 92A: “Idiot Pumpkin (+Cook Suit)”

Breaking Bad S03x08 “I See You”

Whenever Moira Walley-Beckett calls him “Idiot Jesse” in commentary / podcasts, she does so with this disdain that really tickles me. BB can be such a fool sometimes.

It is choice that he tries to put the air vent thing on his dick. And I love his guilty little face when Victor catches him goofing off. #Priceless.


Okay can we just talk about Paul’s face in the first few seconds in this video

He’s really confused when Ringo says “We weren’t like brothers…”

Like, “wait, what do you mean we weren’t like brothers of course we were!!”

And then Ringo goes,“…we were brothers.”

And the realisation/relief on Paul’s face is just PRICELESS:

Silver Tongue Pt.4

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex… and that’s all I think?

Word Count: 1,351

So I have accidentally become obsessed with writing fics… SO have part four lol!

A week. It had been a week since that horrible night. And a week since he had seen or heard from you. The first two days he spent waiting for you to waltz in the front doors and jump into his arms. The next three he spent in a rage. How dare you abandon him?! He thought while destroying the many priceless paintings that decorated the walls. Anger consumed him during those days as he dug himself into a darker hole then he was already in. The last two days of that week he spent sulking. He would lurk around his mansion and sigh loudly whenever he was around his henchmen. Hoping for them to ask if he was okay so he could shoot one of them. Unfortunately they had been taught better than that. Not to say he didn’t kill a few low level ones just for fun. Fun. That seemed like a foreign word to him now. Sure, he still laughed his wicked cackle all the time but it almost felt out of habit more than genuine pleasure. So here it was day seven and not so much as a peep from you. “That’s it! I’m comin to get cha!” He screamed out. Frost was happy for the week of recovery he had gotten. Because when he heard his boss man shout, he was ready to find his girl. He knew he’d need it.

You had spent the majority of the past week in your hotel. Either sitting in the hot tub in the cool night air watching the steam swirl up from the hot water into the sky. Or snuggled up by the lobby fireplace reading, and sometimes writing. The days didn’t drag on nor did they disappear. They simply just happened. You were curled up in the high backed chair that say facing the fireplace, watching the flames dance. Your phone was on your lap, you hadn’t been on it much only to occasionally see if J had texted you yet. He hadn’t. Staring at the fire you thought about when you would do this with J.

There was a giant fireplace in the bedroom you shared together. You often spent your winter nights lying on the bear skin rug that laid in front of the mantle.With your head resting on J’s chest, your naked bodies intertwined. J would tell you his favorite jokes, while he danced his fingers around on your back. Causing the two of you to burst into laughing fits, that would take a while to come down from. You would confide in him about your past. And he would promise to protect you from it. That was the first time you realized he cared for you more than anyone else. “Nothing’s going to harm you.” He had whispered into your ear, when had thought you dozed off. You nuzzled your head into his neck to get closer to him, and to also hide the enormous grin that spread across your face.

A smiled formed on your face as tears wet your eyes from thinking about the memory. It had take you seven days to swallow your ego and realize how much you missed your love. You picked up your phone ready to talk to him and see if he still even wanted you. You quickly typed out a text

‘I’m yours. If you’ll still have me.’

Before you could hit send A man sat down in the high backed chair to the right of you. You quickly set down your phone to wipe away the tears that had fallen onto your cheeks.

‘You know fires are suppose to make you feel better, not cry.” He spoke to you.You let out a breathy laugh, “ha don’t worry they are happy tears.” “Well in that case continue,” he laughed. He was wearing a black baseball cap and a matching black zip up sweater with dark washed jeans. His face was hard to make out, it was covered in shadows from the fire and his cap. All you could see was a strong jaw line and five ‘o'clock shadow. He looked and felt very familiar. “Quiet nights spent by the fire are a rarity, I usually prefer the nightlife.” He spoke to you his nose sounding stuffy.

Then it clicked ‘night life’ he was the man in the corner booth. You jumped out of you seat your phone falling off your lap and under the chair. ‘It’s you from the -” before you could finish your sentence he wrapped his arms around you, and hugged you? Your face was shoved into his sweater clad chest, where you smelt something funny. Chloroform. You gasped accidentally inhaling more of the smell. You were losing consciousness when you looked up into the man’s face. Only to stare at the cotton that was shoved into his nostrils, explaining the reason for his stuffy nose. As the man carried you away, telling the on lookers you must have had to much to drink, your phone lit up from under the chair.

-1 New Text message from J-

J had become giddy with joy at the thought of seeing you again. He had ordered all his men to keep an eye for you around the city. He assigned his best PI’s to track your location down, they had been following your bank records, while the hackers had been trying to track the location of your phone. J was lurking over there shoulders in the tech room when his head PI entered. He was holding her dress and shoes in his hands. J yanked them from his grasp. “Where did you find these?” he asked rubbing the silky fabric against his cheek. “Uhh… in the trash,-” J dropped the fabric from his face. -”outside of (your favorite store). We tracked one your cards there. The worker told us she bought a new set of clothes and was in and out in 15 minutes. But we did look at an account she had from two years ago. She withdrew all her savings from it at a ATM by the shop. But after that her electronic trail runs cold. We’ll keep at it though Mr.Joker.” J turned his back on the man dismissing him with a wave of his hand. She’d thrown it away. The dress he had gotten for her after their first night they had spent together. Joker never consider him a sentimental man. But there was a strange heaviness on his heart when he pictured her dumping the dress into the garbage. Hmm garbage, maybe that’s what she thought of him. The part of his mind that was telling him he’d be delighted to see him, was being to let doubt seep through its cracks. “Mr.Joker, her phone is located at a Four Seasons hotel in downtown Gotham. We’ve got her sir.” J let out a loud laugh, while pulling out his phone and sending a text to you.

-I’m coming for you dolly-

After searching her room and coming up empty J stalked back down to front desk. Brandishing his gun at anyone who dared to look at him. “Where is she?” He asked the hotel manager while using gun to point at a picture of you. “Shh-she was sitting in front of the fireplace about 15 minutes ago.” The fat balding man sputtered out. “Well she’s not here now is she?!” He flipped the high backed chair in is anger, when he saw her phone lying where the chair had previously been. He dropped to his knees picking it up. He opened it with his fingerprint, she couldn’t hate me to much if she hadn’t deleted that out. He thought, while opening his text to her. His heart sank. -I’m yours. If you’ll still have me.- was typed in the text box, but never sent. “Pull up the security cameras!” A indescribable rage seeped up from his feet to his head. It licked his inside white hot anger consumed him.

Thanks for reading! I would also really love to know anyone’s thoughts on this!

I’m the only one who just wants to see Regina’s face when she hears about Emma’s possible fate? 

I do want Killian and Emma to have a heart to heart, and him being devastated, but supportive (“Zeus didn’t bring me back just so I could lose you swan, let me teach you a few things about surviving”). But I also want Regina’s priceless expression when she finds out, so open and broken and loving. (“I can’t lose you too”) 

edamame lethargy

The ripened moon hangs over me

channeling Madame Bovary

clutching close her rosary 

her reverie has frozen me

Mother Earth has chosen me

from out her swollen ovaries arose



or rather I

to lie and die

below the sea

the ghost of he that roasted she whose ghost now haunts the grocery is

toasting me

boasting, he, of those who host my pedigree

abetting me

and aiding in my

edamame lethargy

my mouth dribbles with repartee 

and tête-à-tête

and yet and yet by god I’ll bet

I wont get out of bed 

unless you tar and feather me

hold hard the heather tree 

and free my calesthenic cactus calliope carpe diem

jesus CHRIST just fucking free ‘em

raise the mast

watch the jib

wear an alabaster bib

rib your feather for her pleasure

make it bigger make it better

pearls before swine//oysters pre-pigger

can’t hold my breath I don’t have enough fingers

the clicks in the dark have sensation that lingers

my pretty puny pokey prickly polka dotted bunny

is a priceless pickled paranormal piece of silly putty



words stick like licorice in the grooves of your teeth

need some relief

from tyrannical meaning

mechanical preening

letters and commas don’t need all that shit.
hypnotic sez:

Cute and well-done, but you’re going after the low-hanging fruit.

Still was fun to read.

anonymous asked:

Although I love that video where Nat and Elise are holding hands, the thing I love the most is the pic of them snuggling in the same chair and Natasha is holding onto Elise, and because she's with Elise she looks so at peace. It hurts my heart because they're so perfect.

Aww! It’s priceless and actually gives me this slight, tiny bit of hope for the world when two people can connect and share chemistry on such a deep level. Like maybe, just maybe, I will get to experience that as well.

anonymous asked:

Favorite jealous dan moment? (◕‿◕✿)

probably that one the guy says ‘aww thats so cute’ to phil and dan makes this face like ‘wtf did you just say’ he gets so pissed and then out of nowhere he goes ‘yea..’ and starts chewing on his lip. his face is priceless. dan is so awkward the whole interview… (4:55)

I did a small update in my >links page<, added a new link to posts from TVXQ army acctivities only and one to all of your amazing Cassie’s stories, because they are all beautiful and priceless and they deserve a separate tag ;*