the chip (part i)

8

“ More because I was  f a k e  before. I was just lying at home watching Narcos and gaming and stuff. And I’m over that. Now I want my life to be  r e a l

10

Doctor who + chips

Timeloop Aftermath

((I decided to create a possible idea of what might happen with the Aftermath of this AU. It’s a brilliant AU, so many possibilities and great writing on your part (I also love your art wow)! So, here it is! I hope you like it!))

After the incident, everything in Jeremy’s life changed, and for the better.

After he told Michael about everything that had happened (using the journal as proof, even if he has to read it to him and persuade it to him enough to make him believe him), he was convinced by Michael to get the Squip out of his brain.

There was a whole shitload of stuff that happened (may possibly write it out), whereas Jeremy had to fight against the Squip'a forces, talk to Rich, and finally get that Mountain Dew Red to end it all, Michael being his main support.

Afterwards, with everything that had happened to them with the party and Squips, Jeremy finally seemed to be accepted by people. Not only did Rich come out as bi and started being good friends with Jeremy and Michael, he got them one step closer to Jake, Chloe, Brook and Jenna. Christine had taken a liking to helping Michael after the accident (Jeremy wasn’t into her anymore since he figured out his feelings for Michael, however he couldn’t help appreciate all the amazing things she did), and so the Drama Crew was formed, their friendship really unexpected and magnificent.

Not to mention that Jeremy and Michael had gotten together quickly. Jeremy visited Michael in the hospital everyday after the accident until he got out. Apparently Michael would have full blindness for up to a year, six-nine months at least, and then he’s have eyesight problems for the rest of his life (so, worse than needing glasses obviously, however he’d have partial blindness at times. However it wouldn’t affect him as greatly, and not as bad forever).

Despite the joking bets about how long they’d last, they lasted.. that’s just it. They lasted. They graduated, went to college together (They were cool in college, let me tell you,) and moved in together shortly afterwards. They went on dates, got a dog named Pac-Man (a stray Michael found on the street, what a furry,) , and eventually had a wedding! It was small but cute, the Crew was there, Jeremy’s dad was there, Michael’s parents were there, and Mr. Reyes was there for some reason. It was all amazing, life couldn’t go better for Michael and Jeremy Heere.

That’s the saying, you can only go up. But when you’re up, where else can you go? Well.. only down, of course.

Jeremy and Michael were in their early 40’s. It had been so long since everything happened, the two never imagined Michael’s sight could be so bad ever again. He had been able to see just fine since he had turned 31, despite still needing glasses. They hadn’t even costed the doctor in a whole year, they were so confident.

Confidence wasn’t enough.

Michael had always been insistent on driving himself places after he had gotten better. To practice driving again after getting better, he went to the grocery store to get stuff for the week for them every week, and he had just kept it up since. It wasn’t a big deal.

It had been September when this whole instance occurred. Jeremy sat at home on this Monday, when he had the work day off for Labor day. He sorted through the papers in his hands that was keeping him busy. It wasn’t business papers, oh no (he couldn’t work for a big business anyways, it reminded him of the Squip. Plus he just hated the thought of working in a cubical), these were adoption papers. Jeremy and Michael had been thinking about this for yesrs, and now they were thing of going through with this. He was reading through the different foster care systems near them, when he heard his phone ring.

Jeremy wasn’t one to let his phone go to voicemail unless he was really, really into something or just couldn’t reach the phone. This wasn’t one of those times. He was quite calm at the moment, normal, feeling alright..

He suddenly didn’t feel alright. With the sound of the stranger over the line telling him about the accident. Telling him that his player two had swivered off the side of the highway into a ditch in a frenzy. He was at the hospital. He was under-

Jeremy had stopped listening. Why? Because he dripped his phone on the way outside. Panic ran through his body as he sped out of the driveway in his car, cutting someone off and not caring for a single second.

He could barely breathe as he raced towards the hospital. He knew where it was from how many times he’s been there for this man and this man alone. This man he loved more than anything in the world. The man he saw die so many times before- but felt it so real this time that he felt like he would die right here and now if he didn’t make it to the hospital.

Adrenalin filled him as he crashed into the ER, frantically waving down anyone at all to tell him where Michael was. He looked insane, so if course, security had stopped him before a nurse had came to him.

“Where’s Michael? Where- I-Im married to him! I-is he ok?”

“Sir, were doing everything we can. Hes in a critical state. You have to calm-”

“I can’t calm down! I have to see him- h-he can’t die! I can’t let him d-die! Please!” Jeremy held back the word ‘again’. He also held back tears.

“Sir, I..”

Just then, a doctor stepped into the area. He talked to the lady at the front counter before making his way over to us. “You’re Jeremy Heere, sir?”

Jeremy nodded quickly. “Y-yes, where’s Michael? Is he ok? H-hes ok, right?”

The doctor had paused.

Jeremy felt a fear rush through him at this silence. “H-hes, t-tell me Michael’s ok! Tell me!” He persisted, his voice escalating.

The doctor spoke calmly, obviously rehearsed and drone-like. “I’m sorry sir. There was nothing else we could do for him. Michael had punctured his lung and bled to death before we could do anything usef..”

Jeremy felt his heart drop as the words sunk in. His thoughts seemed to stop, scream to a halt, not disappear, but a much , much worse feeling. The feeling of his whole life crashing down on him and fleeing him at the same time. His heart stopped, like everything else, for a pause that seemed to last for hours.

Then it all hit him. All of it. His heart came back, feeling an ache that only grew worse with every pump. His mind filled with the words of the doctor, the thoughts of his lovers death, the thoughts of Michael, Michael, Michael is dead.

Jeremy was crying. His cheeks were leaking as he pulled himself away from the other men. He stumbled back, still staring at the doctor. His vision became blurry as he started crying harder than every before, his breath becoming tiny gasps, his feet losing balance when he realised he was outside the hospital, on the grass. He brought his hands to his face, weeping and whaling profusely to himself, alone.

Everything came flooding back. And it all guilted him. He could have gone grocery shopping with him. For him. He could have taken him to the doctors to get checked up, seen that his sight might get worse. Checked that his lover was ok with a phone call, say “I love you, player two” one last time. The worst part was that he couldn’t remember the last words they had exchanged.

His mind was in such a spiraling state that he started thinking of everything bad that he ever did to Michael. He reached his deaths, he reached the looping. He remembered every death. He remembered his pain and how none of that pain was nearly as bad as it is now. Now was the worst day of his life. And there had been many bad days for Jeremy Heere.

He just wanted to see his face one more time. He wanted to see his lover, his player two, his alive husband, his best friend, his partner in crime, the most amazing person in the world-

“Or you’ll what?”

The bathroom. The light. The taste of shitty, terrible liquor threatening his mouth. And right in front of him, almost 30 years younger, was the love of his life. He teared up.

“M-Michael?”


(HOOOOO BOYYYYYY I AM. I AM DEC E ASED

I AM LIKE. LIKE THIS

I’M AM PHYSICALLY W EAK

That was really really really fantastic, wow!! I have had thoughts about making the timeline where Michael goes blind the final timeline, sort of like, there’s gotta be some sacrifices, but they don’t necessarily have to be someone dying, ya know? And just imagining all the fun stuff that he and Jeremy go through afterward, hoooo!

All I can think about now is Jeremy pushing Michael (who’s wearing like, shutter shades or a pair of ridiculous sunglasses probably) around in a wheel chair through school and Michael’s like “Move outta the way, bitches, I got an escort to class” and like. Once they recover they get comfortable enough to make blind jokes ppfffp
Although I do like the idea of Michael’s sight coming back eventually. Like the accident at Jake’s house was only temporary and he regains his sight after a couple months or a year or smth.

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO SCREAMING THAT WRECKED ME AAAA!! I just can’t imagine how awful that would be, to live thirty years and then be taken back in time all the way back to the start of the whole thing;; but now Jeremy can try to prevent the whole blind thing, yeah? (Maybe instead Jeremy ends up going blind :0)

STOP KILLING MICHAEL I say as I continue to kill Michael in multiple of my AUs haha–//shot

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!! You guys are awesome continuing to shower me with fics and beautiful art and giving me more ideas for this AU I AM TRULY. TRULY BLESSED.)

2

Early Morning Shift

Mic: Nemuuriiii, I wrote my number on his napkin and he used it to order coffee! Who does that??

Nemuri: Did you think it would be that easy? That guy’s as dense as the books he reads.

Part of the cafe AU I’m chipping away at, I’m such a sucker for them, and I figured I might as well make my own, even if I can’t write :P. Scruffy university lecturer Aizawa (Criminal Psychology), and barista Mic, with Nemuri running the business and other characters part-timing.

edit-  anyone is totally welcome to build on what I post for this cafe AU, or veer off and make their own stuff! (I’m sure theres already cafe AU’s in fics and art, there’s even the official art of one XD, but I’ll be tagging my stuff ‘bnha cafe au’, anyone is welcome to use that!)

(I never really know which name to call Mic by, Yamada is super common, so maybe I’ll stick with his hero name for uniqueness?)

You’ll always have me ∾ montgomery de la cruz

Originally posted by despairingfever

posted 4/13/17

request? yes
Saw that you said you wrote for 13rw and I just had to request. Can you do an imagine where the reader and Montgomery are best friends and the reader is Justin’s little sister so when the mom’s boyfriend beats her she goes to Montgomery and he comforts her and more fluff? Thank you !

pairing(s): justin x sister!reader , montgomery x reader (platonic) 

warnings: plenty of cussing

words: 1032

a/n: i couldn’t find any other gifs so that was the best i could find, oops.
have a request? click here


Keep reading

Forgotten

What if the Enchantress came one day late? What if the ball went as planned, and the Prince went to bed that night human and cruel, and the next day was alone when she arrived? What if the staff weren’t nearby when the curse was cast? What then, what then?

“The prince [was] forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved….” Dark!Fic. Inspired by this savagely sad post of @batbobsession‘s.


Part I: Not A Care in the World

The ball was flawless. In the garden, the roses continued to reach to the sky, and the storm brushed away; the lights shut off in the palace, one by one, and the music faded to silence. The prince went to bed with one or two or three pretty women he wouldn’t care for by the next day. Up in his room, Lumiere popped open a bottle of champagne.

Plumette, lighting the candles by the bed, grinned at him over the flames. He laughed and raised his glass.

“Another sublime night, ça va, mon amour?” The door creaks and in come Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, Chapeau, the visiting musicians. The word has quickly spread that Lumiere and Plumette are serving leftover croquembouche in their room; the staff find places to sit, glasses to drink from, hands to join and caress. Mrs. Potts, in a rocking chair, smiles and holds a sleeping Chip.

Keep reading

THIS GIVEAWAY HAS ENDED!

Hi! In celebration of Pristin’s first comeback I’m hosting a giveaway for their two albums! Our girls have been working so hard to give us their best and HIghs have also been working hard to support them. I want to chip in a little and do my part in our community so I will be handing out three prizes to three of my followers and fellow HIghs! I am close to reaching a major goal as well so this is also a thank you to everyone who has been supporting Pristin with me <3

Prizes:
GRAND PRIZE (1 winner): 
1 SCHXXL OUT album - (version of choice)
1 Hi! Pristin album - (version of choice)
Extras: i.e. face masks, mini notebooks, pencil cases, pens, stickers, etc. (the winner will decide!)

2ND PRIZE (2 winners):
1 Pristin album of choice (SCHXXL OUT or Hi! Pristin)
Extras (see above)

Rules/Outlines (these are important so please read them!!):

  • reblog this post to enter, likes are only for reference but you can reblog as many times as you’d like
  • I will ship internationally so everyone can enter!!
  • because this is partially a thank you to my followers and HIghs in general please be following me <3
  • no giveaway blogs - side blogs are okay but if you reblog to a side blog please put your main blog in the tags
  • the winners will be chosen randomly
    • after being chosen I will message the winners about which version of the album(s) they would like and to alert them that they have won!!
    • if they haven’t responded/contacted me within 48 hours I will pick another winner
    • if the winner is under 18 I will also request that they ask a parent / guardian for permission
  • finally put your pristin bias(es) in the tags so I know you’ve read the rules! EDIT: (only needed for the first time you reblog if you reblog more than once!)

Entries will close Saturday, September 2nd - 12:00 P.M. EST

If I’ve missed something or you have any questions please don’t hesitate to tell me so that I can clarify / add if needed!

That’s How a Moment Lasts Forever - Post-BatB Oneshot

“Grandfather?”

“Mmm?”

“Why do you keep so many tea sets?”

The old man chuckled, leaning back in his armchair as he watched his littlest grandchild.  While her two older siblings had chosen to play outside in the snow, she stared at his bookcase, which, instead of being filled with books, was lined with teapots and teacups made of wood, porcelain, and china.

“Well, you know your father’s a potter; he gives me the ones that no one wants.”

“But do you even use them?” the girl asked.  “They’ve got chips and cracks in them.  They wouldn’t make good tea.”

“You are definitely your mother’s daughter,” the old man replied.  “I suppose…I keep them because they deserve a home, a place to belong.”

The girl raised her eyebrows.  “You make it sound like they’re alive.”

“Well…” The old man’s voice took on a spooky tone.  “Sometimes they talk to me at night.”

The girl laughed. “No they don’t!”

“No, they don’t,” he agreed, laughing in return.  “But can’t an old man have his hobbies?  I like antiques!  I’m a collector, always have been!  You see that?” He pointed at a tiny, intricately decorated box on the mantel above the fireplace.  “It plays a lullaby if you open it. The king’s grandfather made that for me when I was a boy.”

“Really?” The tea sets were momentarily forgotten as the little girl ran over to the mantel and seized the box in her hands.  

“Careful!” The man raised a gnarled hand, but there was no need; the girl set the box down with the utmost care.  She lifted open the box, revealing a tiny, incredibly detailed replica of a rose.  The rest of the inside was gold and cornflower blue, with a castle painted on the inside of the lid.  She located the winding handle on the side, and with a nod from her grandfather, wound it up and let it play.

At once, a little melody, strong but sweet, began to emit from the box, causing the rose to rotate slowly in place.  The girl sat, entranced by the box, while the man closed his eyes and hummed along.

“You won’t find a box like that anywhere else,” he finally said.  “That’s why it’s special.”

The girl waited until the last notes faded away, then looked up at her grandfather to ask him a question.  But what she saw startled her into concern rather than curiosity.

“You’re crying, Grandfather!”  She rushed forward, drawing out her handkerchief to wipe his tears away.  The song was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t a song that should be cried over!

“Ah, well…” He smiled and let her wipe away his tears.  “You are very kind.  My mother used to sing that song for me.”  He didn’t need to say the rest.  

“Oh,” the girl whispered.  “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” the old man reassured her, smiling.  “Besides, I let that old box play every day, and you don’t see me crying all the time, do you?”

“No,” the girl answered, grinning.  “You’re very cheerful.”

“Well that’s good,” he exclaimed.  “I’m glad I didn’t grow up to be an old grump like my father did.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes; she admiring the music box, and he gazing at the tea sets in the bookcase that he kept so well polished that the imperfections shone in the light.

“Do you want to know the real reasons behind the tea sets?” he asked suddenly, waking the girl from her short-lived reverie.  “Why I look after them like I do?  You have to promise not to laugh or walk away.”

The little one shrugged, but sidled up to her grandfather’s armchair.  “Okay.  Tell me.”

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise.” Her eyes gazed up at him, wide and trusting.

“It’s because I used to be one myself.”

The girl sat there, eyes wide, lips parted slightly in surprise.  She wanted to ask if it was a joke, but the old man looked completely serious.  And she was just at that age where she was learning to take care of herself, but still young enough to believe in fairy stories, if they were spun the right way.

“How?”

The old man’s lips curled into a real, genuine smile, one that only children would understand.  “Magic.”

“What happened?” the girl’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Well…sit back a little, and I’ll tell you,” the man replied.  “I was your age when this story took place.  It started with a spoiled prince, an old enchantress, and a young farm girl who saved us all…”


“You used to work at the castle?” the girl said after he had finished his tale.

“Well, it was mostly my mother; she was the head housekeeper.  I followed in the steps of my father, became a potter, and when I had your father, I taught him as well.  Hopefully your older siblings will carry on the family business for me.”

“I bet they will.”  The girl slumped in her chair.  But soon she straightened up again.  “Was the queen really an inventor?”

“Best in the world,” he replied.  “She’s the reason why you have a fountain behind your house for laundry.”

“Is the Enchantress still alive?”

“I have no idea. Probably.”

“Were the musicians really world-famous?”

“Of course they were.  Why would they lie?”

“Maybe to gain favor with the prince.”

“No, they’ve been in the paper before.  I have clippings, if you’re really that skeptical.”

“Wow…” For a moment she was lost in her own daydreams of what it would be like living with famous people.  But then another thought stole her mind away.  “Could Plumette really fly? Like a bird?”

“Even after the curse she could float for a while, if she wanted to.”

“And Lumiere?”

“What do you want me to say about him?  The man was an eccentric old codger right up until the day he…”  The man paused for a moment, lost in the past.  “Until he died.”

The girl pondered the word in silence, while the other sat in his armchair, thinking of times and thoughts that his granddaughter would never understand, no matter how much she listened, or how much she learned.  She would never learn to appreciate time as he had, especially now, after all these years.  And he was the last one, the one given the most time to contemplate what had happened.  Everyone else had already passed on.  

Sometimes, they would come to him in his dreams, as young as he remembered them that day: newly human and full of happiness.  Lumiere would ask him how old age was treating him, Chapeau would clap him on the back and comment on his family, his mother would wrap her arms around him and tell him how proud she was of him.  How proud they all were of him.

But Cogsworth always told him the time, how time was running out.  Tick-tock, there’s not much time left.  And though he always asked what Cogsworth meant, the old majordomo never explained himself, only kept repeating the same thing over and over again.  Even now, Cogsworth was still as incessant as a real clock.

And yet…though he had time well-spent…it never seemed like enough.  Well, not until now, as his youngest grandchild sat next to him, visions of magic and curses dancing in her head, the very age he was when the curse was cast.  Filled with the wonder of a story that would die with him.

“I have a special task for you, little one,” he murmured, and the girl’s eyes lit up.

“What is it?” she asked.  “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t forget the story I’ve told you today.  Not a single word of it.  Write it down somewhere, make it a book.  And tell your grandchildren.  And have them tell theirs.”

“All right,” the child said.  “Is it that important?”

“I don’t want anyone to forget them,” he continued.  “They taught me a lesson; I am sure they will teach others too.  You’ve probably been told that nothing lasts forever, haven’t you?”

“That’s right,” she said.  “Mother told me that.”

“Well…this story only happened in a moment, out of all the time in the world.  And when I die, the days I’ve lived will disappear.  But now that I’ve told you, you can tell other people, and those people can tell other people, and the story will last longer than any of us.”

He wasn’t much of a storyteller at this age, but he could do this much for his family.  He didn’t live his whole life just to die without people really knowing what happened all those years ago.  It wasn’t just some curse; lessons were learned, and love was restored to the castle.  

“Okay.  I promise I’ll do it.  And my children will do it too.”  

Chip smiled and closed his eyes.  He could picture them now, in the castle, carrying out their duties, royalty and service alike.  Some would call them ordinary, but to him they were the most important people in the world.  They didn’t deserve to be fleeting.  They deserved to live on.  Through story, through song, through legend.

That’s how a moment lasts forever…when our song lives on.

Xeno - 5

Plot: The best part about being an assistant in a lab was watching all new inventions come to life, although sometimes some of them fail, leaving them away in a storage room, never to be bothered with; free for the taking.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, Futuristic au!

Notes:  Lol I am going through so much writers block right now. I can’t even. Okay this is the fluffiest thing I have probably ever written and I feel like screaming and cringing. Next chapter will be sorta.. angsty. ;) 3k Words

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Originally posted by aquaporis

It was a new day, which meant more experiments with your Taehyung – which was slowly becoming the best part of your day, it wasn’t being in the labs anymore. Things were getting quite stressful at work, and this was something you considered as your escape. 

Keep reading

Under The Back Porch

As a kid I lived with neglectful parents at best. At worst dad would turn his screams and fists on me but I learned quickly how to dodge the worst of it. Mom wasn’t much help, she’d just smoke in the kitchen and bitch at him for staying out so late.

At the time we lived basically in the middle of nowhere, our nearest neighbors were a long walk away for a six year old and we had trees between us. No one to run to for help. But I was pretty small for a kid my age. I learned I could fit pretty much anywhere. The closet. Dryer. I think even once I tucked myself under my futon in such a way I could still get some air but no one could see me.

I was a master at hiding. But it wasn’t for a good reason.

One night though, one night I chose to do something different.

Keep reading

Mystic Messenger V Route

*rolls in*
If the V route is just friendship im gonna quit life :)
*rolls away*

My first real custom Furby! :D

Meet Tumble! (Short for Tumble Weed) He is super fat and circular haha. When I had him sitting in my car, he was rolling EVERYWHERE, hence the name Tumble Weed. 

Before he was Tumble the WereFurby, he was a reddish orange 2012 Furby. I found him at a Savers last Halloween. His fur was super worn out, he had his tail fur cut off, and a rip in his chest. He was in desperate need of a new fur, and so, here he is now!

I finished him a couple months back, but I didn’t want to post him till he was completely finished XD He needs his ears repainted, and some parts of his face, since some of the paint chipped off. I hope to take more pictures of him when I fix them :) I used Ivory spray paint for his face/ears, felt for his feet, and two types of faux fur that I found YARDS and YARDS of at the thrift store for $6. There is so much, I could possibly make more versions of my Werefuby if I ever find another damaged Furby ^__^

anonymous asked:

OH BUT WAIT WAIT WAIT I WASNT FINISHED ABOUT THE ASK W/ THE BOYS FAVOURITE PARTS OF THEIR S/O... you also have to explain WHY this is their favourite part of their body *insert gross double-chinned lenny face here* ~(FD)

Edd: the torso for a woman defines the woman’s shape, is where her curve start. It’s sexy when girls wear shirts that don’t cover their stomachs

Matt: //he was a vampire,,,// long necks and narrow shoulders look sexy, some nice expensive jewelry hanging around a girls neck is very nice blah blah you bite it suck it is where you put perfume

Tom: the eyes are the windows to the soul, soft eyes that he can stare into for all of eternity is very appealing okay and a beautiful smile that he always wants to be the reason for

Tord: long model length legs are just sexy, man

2

I take a look at the potato chips by my bedside. The smell of salt permeates my brain. My stomach grumbles, letting me know that it’s hungrier than my brain thinks I am.
Ngh, why…? I had wanted to wait for pizza delivery tonight, but this is too tempting… The slender and smooth shape of the bag, the thought of opening it and letting myself go wild…


“…One can’t hurt.”


Gingerly, I pinch the corners of the bag like a newlywed bride taking the veil off her head.
I slowly pull the sides apart, letting the bag reveal the golden insides to me. The sparkles of salt crystals are reflected in the afternoon sun.

“…There we go, now, just one…”

I slip my hand inside and let my fingers do the work. The edges of these chips rubbing against the side of my hand make me want to ravage the insides like a beast, but I manage to hold back.

I pick up one chip with the use of my fingertips, and slowly, I part my lips to engulf it with my mouth…

“..Mmm, mm…”

It’s so sweet and salty… The flavor of the potato perfectly contrasts the sharpness of the salt. I let it sit on my wet tongue for a while, then begin to chew.

I munch.
And I crunch.
And I munch.
And I crunch.

…Aah, this is no good, I’ll have to take another one…!!

I dive back into the bag, grabbing a fistful of chips, barely even chewing as I shove them into my mouth wordlessly. The noise breaks the atmosphere and I feel like a starving lion coming across an intact deer for the first time in weeks.

“Just… mmf, … just one more…!!”

I keep eating. I barely taste it at this point. Now I’m focused on one goal - emptying the bag.

The perfect smoothness of the bag is now gone. It has become crumpled and loud to handle. The newlywed bride is now having her honeymoon, both husband and wife immersed with pleasure.

I keep shoving my hand in the bag, deeper and deeper, filling myself up with chips, until—

“…Ah.”

There’s no more left.

Disappointedly, I close the bag, fold it gently and place it in the plastic recycling…

“I was too quick… I didn’t savor the moment at all…”

Yes… like a pent-up virginal groom who saved himself for years for that one moment, I didn’t even bother to think how the bag was doing…

“…Aah, bag-chan, I’m so sorry for not treasuring you more…!”

I close the lid of the recycling, and get back to work.

Voltron Headcanons #3 ft. Klance

So Keith is KPop trash

Specifically BTS trash

Originally posted by jojoposer

  • his go-to workout song is “Fire” with “Dope” being a close second
  • Keith tries to make sure the team NEVER KNOWS
  • but he accidentally connects his futuristic mp3 to the workout room speakers
  • OOOPS
  • Lance is in there to hear and DOES NOT GET IT
  • Lance - “WHAT IS THIS JAPANESE MUSIC”
  • Keith - “IT’S KOREAN YOU JACKASS” 
  • (Keith forgets that he probably should be denying knowledge of this soooo he’s busted)
  • after that, Lance gives Keith so much grief for his “pretty-boy Korean shit”
  • and doesn’t get it until Keith introduces him to THE QUEEN

Originally posted by fyeahkpopmvgifs-blog

  • Lance - “OH”
  • HyunA the magnificent changes this useless bi boy’s mind about K-Pop
  • and then Lance stans only for the girl groups
  • he’s that creepy guy at girl group live performances who knows all the lyrics and makes sure everyone knows by screaming them as loud as possible

peachy-mari  asked:

Maybe a gifset appreciating jimin's one dimple when he smiles? His slightly swollen eye from the stitches he got as a kid? The cute crooked tooth? The way he covers his face w his tiny hands?

ahhhhh thank you for sending these! but i actually already giffed his slightly swollen eye and his crooked tooth (twice bc i love it so much hehe) but omg ye s his dimple i think i could start working on it tomorrow thank you so much! and the way he covers his face with his tiny hands.. he’s so endearing omg :-(

anonymous asked:

I really love your work and I'd like to send you a prompt if it's okay with you? I think Jon and Sansa won't be at the best terms when Jon will have to ride South to meet Dany because Sansa won't want for Jon to leave her when he promised he'd always protect her and she's kind of cold and angry at him when they say goodbye, so I'd love to read what happens when he's back at Winterfell and how they make up (hopefully Bran's there so they'll find out they're cousins?). Thank you so much!

This does not contain any spoilers or leaks from S7. Rated M.

It can also be read as a prequel to The Hour of His Ghost which I wrote last week: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11586651

Jon drew up his horse as Winterfell appeared before him. It was still some distance away yet, the many towers were an indistinct mass of grey, he could not tell one from the other. Two moons had passed since he last saw his family, he had longed for them each day of his absence. Arya would demand they spar while Bran would only talk of the war to come. And her.

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Finally finished with my custom Geirail! This is probably the most work I’ve put into a kit so far, I took everything I’ve learned and applied it to this crazy bow and arrow wielding mobile suit.  Shading, weathering, chipping, building new parts and adding details. I’m really happy with how it came out! I tried to go for a monster hunter-y vibe, and after watching Knight’s and magic, the fantasy mecha concept was pretty interesting to me. I still feel like I went a bit overboard on the weathering and chipping, I can’t seem to find a good stopping point lol. I also recently passed 600 followers! Thanks so much! I’m sorry I cant post as often as I would like, but real world responsibilities tend to come first. That being said, I am trying to work on kits more often and post them here, so stay tuned!