another one in my

Your name is JAYKKE ENGLSH. 

You are an OLIVEBLOOD living on ALTERNIA, where you spend most of your time watching REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES, reading BAD COMICS, and going on ROUSING ADVENTURES during intense ROLEPLAYING SESSIONS.



Good afternoon! Here’s another one of my notes. Sorry for being inactive lately, I’ve been so unproductive sobs (´;Д;`) hope everyone’s having a lovely day. 💞
Follow my instagram and subscribe to my youtube channel if you want. 😆

Of Mushrooms and Possession

Summary: Kuroko wasn’t sure when Kagami had become synonymous with home, but at that moment, all he knew was that he always wanted dinner with this man.

Rating: G for good try Kuroko

Word Count: 1300+

A/N: This is my first fic for the Weekend At Home event!! It doesn’t follow any of the prompts, but I figured there’s nothing more domestic than cooking at home, so yeah~ Anyhow! I hope you all have been enjoying the works for the event so far, and I’m gonna try to get another fic posted tonight!! <3


The sizzling of the pan on the stove filled the kitchen, along with steaming heat and popping grease. Mushrooms were gently sliced by a careful hand, the tapping of the knife on the cutting board monotonous, rhythmic. Nigou watched from his place on the floor, patient for scraps.

Kuroko paused in his cooking to smile down at him, wiping his hands on the apron he borrowed from Kagami to scratch behind fuzzy ears.

In all honesty, Kuroko wasn’t really one for cooking. He wasn’t particularly bad at it, but he also wasn’t particularly good at it. If he had a recipe in front of him, then he could make simple dishes and decent desserts. He just didn’t enjoy mixing ingredients, or stirring things in pots and pans, or watching the gentle rise of a cake.

But sometimes he wanted to cook. It’s just that he didn’t get much of an opportunity to cook. Not with Kagami living in the same apartment.

Keep reading

I can’t remember when I started to write out these little narratives. Concocted scenarios that never happened. Looking for just the right opening line, one with a sublime narrative hook. This doesn’t feel like art to me. I’m just making things harder than they have to be by mulling this over, replaying unwanted memories in an attempt to reshape the past. I guess that this is something that anyone who attempts to write does on one level or another. There are so many true stories from my past that I could never share, places I have found myself, that I cannot escape from still. And no amount of story telling will ever change them.

I’ve noticed that the older I get, the better I get at procrastination. Not that I put things off more than I used to, but that I have refined the process to the point that It almost appears that I am simply being patient rather than lazy.
There is a common misconception that as people get older they somehow age like fine wine. This is such bullshit. As we get older, we perfect the skills acquired over a lifetime to hide our inadequacies. Turn our defects into some sort of pseudo eccentricities that we then pawn off on people who don’t really know us that well. We play the part of the patriarch or matriarch, in this bewildering role as an elder person.
Wisdom does not come with the passing of years, but with the passing of vanity and diminishing ego.

The Beginning End

No one knows when love begins or ends.

All we wish is it starts with two friends.

Look into my eyes and feel my pain.

Will you stay or go never to pass my way again?

If I told you my secrets, hopes, desires, and fears.

Will you completely share your self, even your tears?

By fate under the moon we met one night.

We have enmeshed with one another along this plight.

My intensity and passion for you and life.

Makes me see a future with me, becoming your wife.

Together greatness can and will be accomplished if we only believe.

Perhaps true love we can achieve on the faith of a mustard seed.

Can you feel me like I feel you?

 then you know in your heart the words I am saying are true.

Kiss me now as I kiss you like this is our first last kiss.

Love me like there will be no tomorrow and this right here we will miss.

Forever and two days I will love you 

I promise this to you.

Now take my heart, body, soul and this ring and say I do.

For in you I have found my fantasy in reality, my home.

Even through death we will never part or be alone.

Nothing can deprive me of my pot of gold and rainbow in the rain.

For in you I have found my true love, now I have no more pain.

Come with me on this journey for two to infinity and beyond all endeavors. 

Thank you for being my sexy better half in this shoot @50shad3s you are amazing as you already know. 

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It’s Camp Nanowrimo and I pledged to write 50k this month. After finishing one original novella length thing and almost finishing another, I realised my word count was flagging…time to turn to fic, where at least I wouldn’t have to do any worldbuilding. 

Friends, I am writing the angstiest thing I’ve ever written. The experience of viewing s4 might have been terrible, but those leftover feelings of discontent and unfinishedness and the general sensation of having been treated badly is proving very productive, for me, at least. 

I’ve also completed drafts of the next update on all my open WiPs, so come May, I’m going to be posting quite a bit, I think. 


just imagine…
the moment Lance learns how to unlock his bayard  :’)

slightly older Lance with different guns like, Pistols? Long Sniper rifle? pow pow 
Lance would ACE bc he is a fantastic sharpshooter.


so those student athlete memes huh


lgbtq meme: 6 gay/lesbian characters » elena alvarez, one day at a time

When I think about love, I see myself someday loving a woman.