anonymous asked:

why are the skirts of every character in this game so short? when i went to school (im japanese) the skirts where long to the knees and if you wore them a little bit up to the knee teachers would see you as a rebel, and when i see this skirts im just thinkin "oh god my parents would kill me first if i wore a skirt so short too school", i dont know if this is a comon think in anime, but i think is really dirty and stupid if this is all oriented to japanese schools. (so sorry for bad english;;)

your english is fine, dont worry! and in most anime the skirts are short :(


anonymous asked:

"make him look like a dad" you misspelt grandpa ;)

(but he’s such a dad I can’t) I MEAN HES LIKE BOTH HE JUST LIKE- D;

Who’s more daddy – namjoon or seokjin? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh god that word… killing me….but I get what you mean and it’s still Namjoon o.o” (cmon he called someone babygirl and all those pre-debut tracks how can I not).

Cooking Jin or Eating Jin

GDODJSKFDLJ This is so hard to choose D:::::::: I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH AND I MISS COOKING JIN AND IM SO STOKED FOR COOKING KING!!J!!!!! but EatJin. The way he emotes and the noises he makes when he eats just makes me so happy and makes me full (but also hungry). I love how he just eats what he wants and he knows how happy it makes us ;u; 

Young Forever or Butterfly Prologue version~

But um…I guess…UmMMGMMSD…Young Forever. The topics it touches on about the boys knowing that an audience may not be there with them forever and how I can feel their passion as artists through the song really gets to me ;u; (I bawled when the MV dropped ngl.)
- Kylie

  • other reality cooking shows:TEN ASSHOLES in a room, all of them PUMPED UP on CRYSTAL METH and THIRSTY for HUMAN BLOOD. we’re gonna SYSTEMATICALLY DESTROY their self-esteem until one of them LOSES IT, throws HOT FAT in another one’s FACE and DISFIGURES THEM FOR LIFE. you are GUARANTEED to DIE of second hand anxiety
  • me:*yawns* that was ok i guess. a nice relaxing watch before bed
  • the great british bake off:we are going to find the twelve most adorable people in the uk and politely request them to whip up some of britain’s favourite sweet treats. they will talk in soft voices, make self-deprecating jokes, and emotionally support one another. an elderly lady and her middle-class henchman are going to sample their bakes and offer gentle feedback.
  • me:oh my GOD are you trying to KILL me I CAN’T HANDLE THIS my HEART’s exploding this should be ILLEGAL @bbc TONE IT THE FUCK DOWN

A little drabble inspired by @infinite-atmosphere‘s cute wittle mcHanzo comic. I hope this is adequate..

His voice is roughened with age and cigar smoke. His grin has lost its exuberant and carefree shine, more crooked and absent-minded, as if an after thought, an old habit that never quite fades. More metal than skin shows and the crinkles around his eyes are heavy with unspoken burdens. 

Hanzo supposes he is the one being childish this time, wanting to reach out and tug at that fluttering serape, to demand if McCree still remembers him. Alas, it is not to be.

He finds himself distracted sometimes, watching the cowman strides around confidently in his ridiculous getup, greeting anyone and everyone, even the enemies, with that crooked smile of his. It gives Hanzo this twinge in his heart, a pulling that is both melancholic and stings a little.

Neither of them owes the other anything, it is foolish of him for having such thoughts. His chances have long passed, it is unreasonable to want them, to want McCree back again.

But then, Hanzo can’t help the tiny jolts whenever McCree tips his hat at him, at every wayward smile, a friendly bump on the shoulder. They are all too little, and yet too much. He finds himself thinking too hard at night, when the world is quite and his only companion is his perfect memory. It is both a blessing and a curse, because then the mind would let him see what reality does not.

They both have changed, but that fleeting feeling of longing, gentle like a fallen petal yet constricts his guarded heart too tightly, refuses to go away.

“Somethin’ on yer mind?”

His reverie is shattered, not violent like broken glass, but soft as dry leaves crunching under one’s steps in the autumn sun, at the feeling of metal finger brushing his cheek. Hanzo shrugs it off, face betrays no emotion even when his pulse quickens.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”

There is a pressure on his chest, a coiling at the very pit of his stomach when broad shoulder meets his, arms aligning with each other. The back of McCree’s metal hand brushes his own and, somewhere, a knot eases when the gentle wind carries the familiar scent of gunpowder and cigar, enveloping him in a warmth that isn’t his own. Brown eyes fall upon his, and the smile, crooked with just a hint of something else, melts away the grasp around his guarded heart.

“Aye, it is.”

Ok so imagine

Pidge finally finds their family. They break down. They’re in tears. They just can’t stop crying. They’re smothered in hugs. Shiro even joins in.

Then they are killed by the galra while trying to get to the lions.

Pidge is lost. They break down. They’re in tears. They just can’t stop crying. They want to be alone. They even shoo away Shiro.

They are so devoid of emotion that they can no longer even access the bond of the green lion.