this one might go somewhere

9

Goryeo’s Best Dressed: 13th Prince, Baek Ah

GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!

Here are their matching glasses:

But wait, because look:

First of all, HOW DID WE MISS THOSE SUNGLASSES?!

And second, WHAT KIND OF COUPLY BULLSHIT IS THIS?!

6

only fools fall for you

Sensing the light

I thought it would be a good idea to put this on a separate post so it’s not too big, but I’ll leave it on the headcannon as well. From this headcanon

“It’s starting guys.”

They don’t see each other much these days. Not because the darkness and the monsters kept them fighting at opposite ends of Eos, but because rebuilding is hard and a battle in and of itself.

They make time for this.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hypersexuality (der. nymphomania, satiryasis) - extremely frequent or suddenly increased sexual urges or sexual activity Use it as a prompt maybe? Pretty please :)

Come On Baby, Light My Fire - Part 9


Previous Chapters:

Part 1: Grapholagnia

Part 2: Neighbors/We meet again

Part 3: Callipygian

Part 4: Apodyopis

Part 5: Gymnophoria

Part 6: Mamihlapinatapei

Part 7: Basorexia

Part 8: Coitus


Hypersexuality (der. nymphomania, satiryasis) - extremely frequent or suddenly increased sexual urges or sexual activity

RATED E…for obvious reasons

Keep reading

Day Six: Poison

I got a tiny bit carried away with this one. Small spoilers for season three, set around the middle of season three. Words: 2.6k
@voltronwhumpweek2017

“I have gathered you all in the castle of the lions today because, as leaders of the rebel force against the galra, we must discuss our next move against the galra,” Allura announced, accepting a glass of a dark red beverage from a hooded servant. “Does anyone have any ideas of how we should strike next?” Lance shot his hand up, nearly jumping in his seat. Her paladins and Coran sat to the left of her, while the leaders of several planets who had not yet succumbed to the galra’s advances sat to her right. “Yes, Lance?”

“Just send me in,” he grinned. “I have my blaster, you drop me next to Lotor and I just pick him off, right there. Problem solved!” He mimed shooting his blaster, pointing it at Keith. Keith rolled his eyes, kicking Lance underneath the table.

“Lance, cut it out. This is no time for jokes.”

“Keith is right, Lance,” Allura sighed, the bickering of the two giving her a small headache. “There are several flaws in your plan, starting with the fact that Lotor is not the only problem in the war. Even if you did manage to kill him, there would be a million other soldiers ready to step up and take his place, and you would undoubtedly be killed in the process. Does anyone else have a suggestion? I thought it might be helpful to start by taking down the posts across the universe.” Her headache was getting worse and she massaged her temples, wincing. She took another sip of the red liquid the servant had brought her. Perhaps it would help.

“We could place fighters across the universe,” suggested the leader of the Balmerans. “If we plan correctly, we could chose a single day to attack the posts across the universe we could overwhelm them.” The guard in the corner grunted, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“I like that plan,” Allura mused. “I believe it would work well. The only problem would be infiltrating the posts without being noticed.” She hid a small cough in her shoulder and Coran, who sat to the direct left of her glanced over, his eyebrows furrowed. Allura averted her eyes. She had started to feel poorly throughout the course of the meeting, but it was too important to put off for another time.

“What if we just attacked,” Keith proposed. “If we keep this meeting a secret from the galra they wouldn’t know what hit them.”

“Hey, I kind of like that!” Lance said. “Mullet finally had a good idea.”

“That would work in theory, but there are too many variables,” Allura muttered, subtly massaging her stomach underneath the table. She had no clue as to why she had started to feel worse, or why she had even begun to feel bad in the first place. Illness in an altean was rare, and she couldn’t recall going somewhere she might have contracted one of the few illnesses that could seriously affect an altean.

“Princess, are you feeling alright?” Coran murmured, leaning in so that the rest of the table wouldn’t hear his words. “You’re beginning to look pale.”

“Fine, Coran.” Allura brushed his words off like they were nothing, although if her condition was becoming noticeable perhaps there was something to worry about. She took another sip of the red drink, hoping it would do something to soothe her churning stomach.

Pidge and the leader of the leethes were deep in conversation about how they could use drones to attack the galra posts when Allura’s stomach began to gurgle, her throat suddenly closing up. “Excuse me,” she blurted out, pushing back her chair. “I must use the restroom.” She exited the room, beginning a sprint as soon as she knew she was out of sight from the conference room. Her stomach gave a forceful push and it was at that moment that Allura realized she wouldn’t make it to the bathroom. She dropped down next to a potted plant, heaving up the red drink. Coming back up it had a green tinge, and the smell wafting off of it jolted a memory back into her body, one that she had only encountered once in her life, when her father’s life had been threatened when she was only three years old.

As she continued to vomit she felt a warm hand on her back and when she was finished being sick she looked up to see Coran’s worried face staring back at her. “Are you ill, princess?” he asked. Allura shook her head, her head pounding.

“Poison,” she choked out. Coran instantly paled, and glancing down into the potted plant a look of recognition crossed his face.

“I remember that!” he gasped. “That is the same poison that nearly killed your father when you were a child.”

“It was the guard,” Allura said. “I didn’t recognize them, and they’re the one who gave me the drink.” Coran bit back a curse.

“Stay here, princess.” He bolted away, leaving a weak and sick Allura crumpled on the floor.

Coran rushed back into the room, staring around until he found a hooded servant standing in the corner of the room, their long arms folded across their thin chest. Coran crouched next to Shiro, the closest to him at two chairs from the head of the table. “The princess has been poisoned by that servant,” he hissed, Shiro’s eyes widening at the news. “We must capture that servant at all costs. Inform the others.” Shiro leaned over to Hunk, whispering into his ear. The information passed along the team, and Coran could see that the servant was getting fidgety, realizing that their plan had been discovered. Right after Keith passed the news to Lance, at the end of the table, the servant bolted, their hood flying off to reveal Ezor, her long legs pumping to escape the paladins. Lance leapt up, bayard already in his hand.

“Don’t worry, Coran, I’m on it!” he said, going after Ezor. Keith went after him, his sword already full form.

Coran only had to wait five minutes for the return of the paladins before they came back, panting heavily.

“Man, she is fast!” Lance complained, his face red.

“She got away,” Keith confirmed after a look from Coran. “There was another general waiting outside with a ship, she was too fast.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Coran.”

“Do not worry about it, my boy,” Coran said. “Our main priority should be helping the princess.” He glanced at the leaders, still assembled on the right side of the table, looking thoroughly bewildered at the excitement. “I’m truly sorry to cut this meeting short, but all of our attention needs to be on the princess now. I’ve already sent Hunk to her, and we must put all of our energy into making sure she is all right. The meeting will be reschedualed to discuss plans, seeing as the ones we have already made are now unusable due to galra infiltration.” The leaders all filed out until it was only the paladins and Coran standing in the room.

“Coran, where is Allura?” Shiro asked.

“Follow me, everybody,” Coran instructed. “Hunk is already with her.”

When they reached Allura and Hunk’s location Hunk was cradling Allura in his arms, looking panicked.

“When I got here she was throwing up and she just collapsed,” he said. “Coran, she’s on fire.” Allura’s eyes were shut tightly, her face pale and her breathing shallow. There were several types of poison she could have ingested, and Coran had been hopeful it was one of the less extreme ones. The news dashed his hopes.

“We can put her in a pod, right?” Pidge asked, staring at the unconscious princess, her eyes filled with worry.

“I’m afraid not, Pidge,” Coran murmured. “The kind of poison she has ingested works on a level that even Alteans can hardly understand. There is an antidote, but it is very difficult to find, growing only in the deepest part of the Antan forests.”

“We need to go,” Pidge pushed. “I can put the coordinates into my lion.”

“We must act with haste,” Coran said. “The poison is quick to act. When King Alfor was poisoned we were fortunate to have some of the antidote in the castle, but he was still ill for weeks after. Hunk, Pidge, can you go in the green lion?”

“Of course,” Hunk said, gently passing Allura off to Shiro.

“Good. You two, come with me. The rest of you, bring the princess to the med bay and see if you can lower her fever. If we are not careful, her ever could kill her before the poison.” He, Pidge and Hunk dashed to the control room for the coordinates, leaving Shiro, Lance and Keith with a very sick princess.

They laid her down on a cot, a lock of white hair falling into her rapidly paling face. Tenderly Shiro pushed it back behind her long pointed ear. “Keith, look for a fever reducer,” he instructed. “Lance, try to find some sort of a pillow. We need to make her as comfortable as possible.” Shiro crouched down next to her, his eyes softening at the sight of Allura. “Don’t worry, princess,” he whispered quietly enough that Keith and Lance wouldn’t hear. “You’re going to be just fine.” Shiro knew that Allura couldn’t hear him but the assurance eased his heart just a tiny bit, making him hope that he was doing all he could.

Pidge and Hunk soared out into the cold, dark clutches of space, Green zooming to the coordinates Coran had set into her. “You have the description of the antidote, right?” Pidge asked, her eyes focused out the window as she pushed Green to fly faster, her knuckles white against the controls. Hunk nodded, finishing up a sketch with a broken pencil on a torn piece of paper. The soft leaves of a huge tree stared at him from the page and Hunk soaked in the image in case the sketch was lost.

“I know exactly what it looks like,” he promised her. “As soon as I see it we can grab it, fly back to the castle and save the princess.” Pidge grinned.

“I like the sound of that,” she smirked, thrusting the controls down, sending Green spinning towards the bushy forests of the planet of Antan.

Pidge and Hunk only had to search for a few minutes before they came across a huge tree looming over them. The trunk had to be at least fifty feet tall, the leaves hanging at the very top.

“Uh, that might be a problem,” Hunk winced. “How are we supposed to get up there? We could fly your lion up, but we wouldn’t have anywhere to land.” Pidge scrutinized the tree, taking in its appearance. Throughout her childhood she had loved climbing trees, always reaching the top and waving at her family down below. It had always made her feel closer to outer space and now, up in outer space, her childhood talent of climbing trees might just save a life.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she grinned.

She hooked her arms around the trunk of the tree, the trunk thin enough so that she could nearly wrap her arms around the entire thing. With her legs she pushed upwards, inching closer to the top.

“Be careful!” Hunk called, his eyes wide. “If you fall I’ll catch you, I promise!”

“Thanks, Hunk, but talking about falling isn’t helping much!” Pidge yelled back, her voice squeaking a tiny bit from fear. The tree was branchless, and she had to rely on sheer strength and willpower to not fall.

The trunk began scraping at her bare skin and Pidge winced, her palms nearly shredded. She closed her eyes for a brief second, her energy waning. The climb was proving longer than she had expected but it was the only way to get the antidote, and she was too high up now to come back down without the leaves in hand. She looked up, the leaves nearly at arm’s length. She reached up, stretching out her arms. The tips of her fingertips brushed the ends of the leaves and she cursed, giving one last push with her legs before she managed to grab a handful. Triumphantly she waved down at Hunk, the leaves clutched tightly in her fist. Hunk cheered, clapping for her as she stared down at the leaves. Now, all they had to do was get back to the castle in time to save Allura’s life. Should be simple, right?

Pidge was contemplating the quickest way to get down, wondering if destroyed hands were a fair price for sliding down the trunk like a pole when she heard a roar, and Green burst out of the forest, her eyes lighting up. She opened her mouth, allowing Pidge to leap in, sitting down in her pilot’s chair and zooming down to fetch Hunk. With the antidote to the poison safely stored she put her lion at top speed, racing back to the castle.

Back at the castle, Allura had woken up, her normally vibrant eyes glassy and bloodshot. Lance jumped when he saw her, nearly dropping a pile of blankets.

“Allura!” he gasped. “What are you doing out of bed? Why are you even awake?”

“My father,” she muttered, her voice quiet. “My father told me he had something to tell me.” Lance blanched. He reached over to find a furnace behind Allura’s skin, burning hotter than it had been previously.

“Come on, Princess,” Lance said, steering her back to her cot. “Pidge and Hunk will be back soon with the antidote. You should get some sleep.” Allura teetered on her feet, sagging into Lance’ chest. Normally this would be Lance’s dream, a pretty girl falling into him, but now her was too worried to care. He picked her up, cradling her as he deposited her back into her cot.

“I- I need-” Allura gestured to a trash can and Lance barely had time to thrust it into her chest before she gagged into it, bringing up a strange green substance he had never seen before. He heard footsteps and Coran sprinted into the room, Allura still retching. He peered into the trashcan, his face falling when he saw the contents.

“It’s getting worse,” he murmured, unable to contain his worry any longer. “This is the final stage of the poison.” He smoothed down Allura’s hair, wincing at the fever underneath his fingertips.

“Are Pidge and Hunk almost back?” Keith asked, his brows creased with worry, his arms crossed over his chest.

“We’re here!” Came Hunk’s voice from down the hallway, accompanied by the sound of pounding footsteps. Hunk and Pidge raced into the room, a handful of leaves clutched tightly in Pidge’s hand.

“What do I do with these?” Pidge panted, opening her fist. The leaves were slightly crushed, Pidge’s hand tinged green from holding them so tightly. Greedily Coran snatched them from her hand, shoving them into Allura’s mouth. She swallowed, her dazed expression showing that she had no clue what was going on. The team waited with baited breath as she swayed slightly in her bed, finally collapsing against her throne of pillows. Coran let out a sigh of relief as she did so, wiping his forehead with a shaking hand.

“Will she be okay?” Shiro asked. Coran nodded, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye.

“It is because of you that the princess has survived this horrible ordeal.I cannot thank you all enough.”

Reasons not to pick

My face is getting better, I don’t wanna mess it up.
I’ll feel terribly guilty after.
The things I feel, no one can see.
I might have to go somewhere.
To be able to wear little to no foundation to go out.
To feel confident.
I’ll be extremely proud of myself at the end of the day.
To be able to look in the mirror without crying or feeling disgusting.
To be able to put my hair up and feel okay without hiding behind it.
Because once I go one day, it’ll get easier the next day, and the next.
To not have to take my glasses off every time I go past a mirror.
Because it’ll be so worth it in the end.

I wrote this for myself, but I hope it might help you, too.

anonymous asked:

Does the manga show any usage of hypodermic needles filled with any kind of liquids? Whether it be used by Lau, or by the undertaker, or even by the cults?

I want to say that Blavat might have been briefly shown with one???

I’d have to go back and look. Might be somewhere in random lab details or something…..

starryfeathers  asked:

Never Have I Ever written a fic with a loud crash followed by "I'm fine!".

(Oh hey, I know you!  Hi there!)

Man, I don’t think I have this one?  It might be somewhere, but for now I’ll go with no.

If I did this, I’d probably have it as a background joke?  Like, just lowkey mention Matt or Pidge on a ladder somewhere, probably trying to work on something brilliant but terrifying, and totally ignoring all safety standards while they do it. 

Meanwhile, the main focus of the conversation is on some much more serious conversation.  Maybe someone getting grilled about a reckless action, or on their lovelife, or something else.

And just as the conversation is starting to crest into tempers flaring-

The background character falls from their unsafe perch.

“…I’m fine!”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

(Fanfic author Never Have I Ever: Send me a trope and I’ll say where I’ve written it or how I would write it)

Out of the top Art Ross candidates, Jamie Benn is the only one who was not a top 10 draft pick.

baronessofmischief  asked:

Okay listen. That Mama Kent fic is the greatest thing I've seen all week. I feel revitalized. "Kiddo, I spent the eighties recovering from the seventies" is the best line to come out of Joathan Kent's mouth. I need this as a canon comic like yesterday. Unbelievable. Good job.

My favorite canonical Jonathan line is in DCAU when they first find the ship, and he says, “What if it’s some kind of Sputnik baby?” Like this baby might be a commie spy. How would they know. Can they really trust this baby. That is his problem with Martha’s plan to bring home a spaceship baby. It might be Russian. Any version of Jonathan Kent that is not just along for the ride in his wife’s baby plans is not one I care about.

amyvlaws  asked:

Hi Carrie, I would like to ask you how you came up with the idea for 'On the Other Side' because I love writing and have a few ideas but I can't settle on one that I think is good enough to write a whole book about. Lots of love and best wishes for the new year, From a fellow book addict, Amy xxx

Hello!

I was half asleep and half awake in Cardiff on tour with The War of the Worlds and I sort of dreamed up this idea of a woman stuck in limbo who had to reveal her past secrets to be let into heaven. I wrote that idea down and then when i got home I started expanding the idea in my notebook to and from Les Mis! Ideas take time. Once you’ve caught one that you think might go somewhere, you need to work on it and expand it and see if it has a life or any magic in it. Only then will you know if you’re excited enough about it to commit the length of time it would take to write it! 

Happy New Year!

xxx