you go pres

‘It’s time for your digital examination, Poppet.’

Senpai Seven, dedicated to @11daysofhell

My life rn

i’m cackling literally every single one of Dick’s teammates calls Jason ‘squirt’

we’ve always taken shelter in our unhelpable pride

7

YOI @ Namjatown (non-food pics)!

They had a nice big poster + Makkachin <3

On March 24th, they added a new game, “Yuuri’s Hug Hug Competition.” Lined up super early before opening so I could take a shot before prizes ran out. As u can sorta see from the last photo (taken from Namjatown’s official twitter, all other photos are my own), the game goes like this: You can buy up to 5 tries every time you go up (which is not often; you gotta get a ticket that tells you what time to come back, usually several hours later there were so many people). For each try, the nice ladies will give you a lil ball which you can place anywhere on the ramp to the right. You let go of the ball, it swings onto the slope and bounces off the lil stoppers and falls into one of the slots at the bottom, each of which has a character (the person Yuuri “hugs”) and a letter A-D. There’s only one A (Victor), and increasingly more of the lower prizes (most D), which obviously means you have to be incredibly lucky to get A and most people get a lot of the other letters. A prize is a tote bag, B prize is a charm, C prize is a button, and D prize is a random sticker (all others you can choose your character, which is why some characters ran out faster than others). It’s supposed to be mostly luck bc of the knockers and the fact you have to place the ball on the ramp so you can’t really tell it to go anywhere….

….but apparently I had amazing freakin luck or there is some skill involved bc

I got A prize twice in 8 tries ^v^)b So top tote is Yuuri + Vic + Chris (was out of stock later in the day), bottom tote has Phichit + Yurio + Otabek. All in all, a very successful day <3

I asked cribbagematch to tell me to write something tiny while I’m deliriously sleep-deprived and she said “Derek helping Stiles with something boring” so this is that. IN THE FUTURE.


“That’s not the right way to stain a deck,” Derek says, and Stiles almost upends the entire paint tray.

Fucking—” Stiles grabs his chest dramatically. “It’s painting slabs of wood, thank you, Rembrandt, I think I can manage!”

“You think wrong.” Derek climbs the stairs and surprises Stiles by getting down to his level and sitting on the step. He’s wearing basketball shorts. Stiles tries not to stare at his knees. “So. You’re all home for the summer?”

“Yup.” Stiles focuses on the patch of uneven deck that won’t cover no matter how many times he goes over it with the roller. His heart is galloping, which Derek can probably hear. Ugh, gross. “The whole band’s back together. Even the prodigal son, I guess.” He nudges one of Derek’s (naked!) knees with the butt of a paint brush. “Welcome back, Zayn.”

“That means I’m the hot one, right?” Derek says, deadpan. Stiles sputters and throws a spare drop cloth into his face—which just makes him laugh, of all the horrifying things.

Derek’s already tan, even though summer just barely started, and Stiles can’t tear his eyes away from the fine, friendly wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He looks… soft, like all his edges are rubbed smooth. Jesus christ on a honey graham cracker.

“What is up with you?” Stiles gestures at him with the roller, fighting a hysterical laugh of his own. “You look so… did you go on an Eat Pray Love tour while you were gone? Did you find Enlightenment?”

“I missed—this place, I think.” Derek ducks his head, fiddles a little bit with the edges of the long grass that’s growing next to the stairs. “It’s been a long time since I felt like that. Like I’d rather be here.”

“Well.” Stiles clears his throat, but it still aches. “We actually, kind of, would rather you be here, also.”

“Yeah?” Derek nudges his arm, more gently than he ever has. “You need someone to keep you from screwing up this deck?”

“Oh fuck you!” Stiles yelps, stupidly exhilarated. He throws his roller at Derek, rolling his eyes when he snatches it cleanly out of the air. “Take over, then, if you’re such a freaking deck prodigy. I’ll make some lemonade.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek says. He crosses his arms at the hem of his tank top and peels it off in a smooth stretch, sighing when the sun hits his skin. “Put strawberries in mine, will you? And maybe tell me about college while I fix that corner you tried to destroy.”

“You’ll get strawberries when you finish the banisters,” Stiles sniffs, before bolting to the kitchen to stuff two handfulls of of ice cubes down the front of his shirt.

Pre Kerberos Sheith will always be incredibly sweet and heartbreaking bc it’s before everything in the show happens, so Shiro is definitely more smiley and lighthearted before the mission. And Keith (the loner/top of his class) starts getting to know/opening up to Shiro. Then by the time they’re either getting a crush on each other or start dating the Kerberos Mission is announced and the reader still KNOWS that Shiro goes missing and that Keith losses the person he loves fuck this ship is just so sweet and angsty

8

                               hopin i’ll resort to some havoc      & end up settling in court
                  i’m your biggest fan              i’ll follow you until you love me
                       but i got smarter        i got harder in the nick of time

2

Shot to the heart and they’re to blame. Not that we’re complaining, are we? :D

As I’ve mentioned before in this post, I’ve been working on Voltron keychains among other things! At that time, I haven’t been able to show you a preview but here you go!

The pre-orders for the Voltron Dorky Gunner keychains will be announced in a few days. At the moment, I’m planning to sell these both as a set of seven (Paladins + Allura and Coran) and individually. The regular price for singles is 12 USD while the set is 60 USD but the pre-order price is discounted. It will be 10 USD for singles and 50 USD for set. 

As for the shipping fee, I’ll be offering standard Malaysia Pos (price range 4-14 USD depending on location) and Malaysia EMS (faster delivery, price range 25-34 USD depending on location).

In the next few days, I’ll be posting a detailed FaQ for you guys that will include not only the final pricing but also a breakdown of the shipping costs, sample images, and other things. So if you have any other question please feel free to shoot them via chat or ask box! Your feedback is most welcome!

【FaQ】


REBLOG FOR SUPPORT!

Thank you!

Reminder to those enraged and engaged in this fight: Activism cannot be your singular focus; you can burn out, you will burn out, and you will burn out F A S T. Don’t feel guilty if you start to feel overwhelmed. Don’t feel guilty if you need to turn off the news, get off social media, or stop talking about the current political climate. It’s exhausting. Take a little time every day to decompress! Do something fun, make sure you have a hobby. Read tarot cards, knit or crochet things to donate, work out, read read read, make art (god, please, make some art, that’s gonna be one of the first things to go). It’s exhausting, fighting for your rights and liberties. It’s not going to stop being exhausting. But if we quit because we can’t keep up, we’re tired, we’re overwhelmed, then they win. And we can’t let them win, because this is just the start. So take a break. A little bit, every day. Treat yourself well and then get right back into the fray. Take care of yourself while fighting for your neighbor who might not be able to.

anonymous asked:

Hey i was wondering if you had any thoughts on the whole Icarus' pride/fall analogy for fahc Gavin that seems to have gone around a bit? If you feel like it of course!

Oh Ramsey’s perfect little frontman, all polished shine and pearly whites, mouth dripping charm like poison, like promise. How fitting to dress him up in ancient fables, a cautionary tale that has stood the test of time, how apt to deem him doomed from the start.

Is it any surprise that the people can’t stop talking about about him? Can they really be blamed when he goads them into it? When he wears vanity like the finest cloak, teases rumours out of thin air, when he seemingly lives to be in the limelight no matter the cost.

They’ve named him Icarus, like hubris. Like ill-fated glory hound. Like pretty fool with his head in the clouds. Like the fatal fall is inevitable and he has already lost. It’s funny how no one ever talks about the fact that Icarus was running, hurled into the sky to escape the fickle fancies of a cruel king, less human trying to play god than prisoner willing to risk everything for one more day in the sun. Child still naive enough to believe his father could never steer him wrong.

They call him Icarus, and it fits.



At birth he was named Gavin and as a child he’d have given anything to fly. A tyrant needs no crown and cruelty has never been limited to kings; Gavin outgrew blind faith years ago and since that day he has been running. It’s made him cautious, most would never know it now but he has always been calculated where it counted, has never needed another to build his escape route.

He’s as skittish and distrustful as an alley cat, as anyone who has ever been powerless, who is determined never to be again. He investigates every outcome, he does his math twice, and though many laugh when he sets his sights on America Gavin has always known exactly how perilous his wings are. By the time he arrives he has been reborn; all that swanky blasé confidence didn’t come naturally, was built piece by piece, fragile feather by fragile feather, stitched together with fear and need and the hardened resolve of someone who has run out of options.

They say Icarus, like hubris. Like there is any pride in desperation. Like ambition is the enemy, and chasing the brightest, purest thing you’ve ever seen is arrogant. Like that first winged boy wasn’t absolutely aware of what he was doing, like he didn’t aim upwards on purpose, didn’t swear that after a lifetime in the dark he was going to kiss the sun whether it killed him or not. Salvation or bust.



In Los Santos he is golden. Ramsey’s boy, untouchable boy, brilliant, brutal, menace. He is vital, important, he is vicious, he is streaking towards the sun blazing so brightly no one can look away, burning up right before their eyes. Gavin is higher than he’s ever been but he can’t stop now, not when death is coming from above and below and behind, not when everyone knows it’s better to go out on top. Better to choose it, to taunt it, to die laughing with the sun on your face.

He knows what the people call him, knows what they all expect, and can’t quite stop himself from laughing at them; no one ever seems to talk about the fact that Icarus didn’t die in the fall. It was neither height nor folly that that got him in the end; Icarus drowned. Blinded by hope and dropped into an environment he had no way to prepare for, dragged down with no way to help himself and no one around to save him.

For all Gavin’s many faults, real and affected alike, no one can say he is alone, not anymore. Not after he built himself a safety net out of hard eyes and loaded guns, leather jackets and bared teeth, weaving desperate affection and steadfast protection so deeply into the most ruthless crew he’d ever met that they’d drain the entire ocean before they’d let him sink.

They call him Icarus, and it fits, but they are missing half the story. Gavin built his own wings, omitting wax in favour of blood and bone, coated them in bullet casings and gold leaf so they’d catch the sunlight and blind any who tried to look too closely. Who can tell, then, if he is climbing or falling? Who can see clearly enough to know when the ocean is rushing up to greet him? Gavin who is always two steps ahead, who could talk a fish out of water, could charm gravity, who has never feared the fall. Gavin who dreamed of flying, who spent his whole life learning how to swim.

Okay so, it’s Sunday and i’m out of good paper to draw anything new and everything is closed on Sunday so I can’t get more. I still have not-so-good paper that I can use for linearts but that’s pretty much it, sooo

How about we do an ask game thing or an anon hour later tonight? Some of you have been asking for one and it’s been a loooong time, and I miss talking w/ you all. I can still answer with little doodles, I just can’t paint them. I’ll let ya know!

Some Favorite RDC3 Memories

So many amazing things happened. Here’s a quick, far from exhaustive list of my favorites. 

  • Getting to pour Hugh Dancy a taste of whiskey
  • Aaron Abrams feeling up my flower crown
  • Bryan Fuller sharing American Gods images on his phone
  • Demore Barnes doing his impression of me asking my question
  • Getting Hugh to wear the pair of Will Graham glasses I own
  • Getting a Bryan hug
  • When we realized we were going to be the last table to get Bryan at the Meet and Greet and just settling in for the evening
  • Scott Thompson’s very sincere story about the origins of Buddy Cole
  • Hugh tearing up when Bryan said “It’s beautiful” was his favorite line because Hugh wrote it
  • The Fannibal musical
  • Getting to spend a fair amount of time with Ro
  • Getting to meet so many more fannibals
  • Bryan’s constant look of delight and wonder
  • Hugh being incredibly game for anything and totally into the whole experience
  • Bryan stopping signing long enough to come to the closing ceremony and then going back to signing to make sure everyone got through the line
  • Ellen
  • Scott and Aaron
  • Demore
  • Hugh
  • Bryan
10

phunnoh + phun flirting with/teasing the boyfriend

Is the fandom sick of fake instagram posts yet or….?

Happy Birthday Yuuri!!!! 

I would like to dedicate this very badly written ficlet to @corrupteddean who put this idea into my head:

“Professor!Dean at Stanford so he can be with his baby brother, and later he fucks him against his desk, telling Sam that he’ll need to scream his name if he wanted to pass.”

This was intended to be pure smut then feelings got in the way, fucking brothers (pun not intended) never do what you want them to. 


“Dean. Deeeaaaan”

It feels like they’ve been at it for hours.

When Sam walked into his Introduction to English class the last thing he expected to see and hear was his brother in a pair of glasses introducing himself as their professor. It’d been a year since he last saw him, a year since he broke his heart and left him and their dad behind and came to Palo Alto.

All through class he wonders what possessed Dean to follow him, ‘maybe he’s actually possessed?’  After he left he thought he’d never see Dean again, he was sure his big brother hated him for never telling him about Stanford and turning his back on him, severing their more than brotherly relationship in the process. 

It doesn’t take long after class to get an answer, as soon as the last student walks out, Dean shuts the classroom door and kisses him. 

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me: *walks outside the band room with my French horn*

random student: OMG nice trumpet!

me:

Moana: Treasure Trove

Here it is! A stash of Moana fics that I wrote over the past six months that, for various reasons, never saw the light of day. This is part one of two!

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