i think i like these leggings a bit too much

in the blood

presenting: the jily royal au no one asked for someone pls validate me i hate writing long fics

It starts at a party.

You’re dancing with your friends, beer in hand, hair held back with a headband, gold paint swiped down your temple, curling around your cheekbones.

Those damned cheekbones and that damned jawline. A bone structure carved from history. You are catastrophically beautiful.

Marlene waves at you; she tells me you’re old family friends. Your chin lifts, corners of your mouth lifting to reveal lines of perfect teeth. Her hands grabs mine and she’s weaving us through the crowds of hot bodies.

“Marls.” You say, pulling her into a hug and kissing her cheek. She screws up her face.

“Boundaries, Potter.”

You smirk at me. “She loves me really.” She scoffs but there is sunlight glinting in her smile.

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“What happened?” So long as I was careful not to move, the pain in my leg was bearable. Automatically, I placed my fingers under the angle of my jaw to check my pulse; reassuringly strong. I wasn’t in shock; my leg couldn’t be badly fractured, much as it hurt. 

Jamie rubbed a hand over his face. He looked very tired, and I noticed that his hand trembled with fatigue. There was a large bruise on his cheek, and a line of dried blood where something had scratched the side of his neck. 

“The topmast snapped, I think. One of the spars fell and knocked ye overboard. When ye hit the water, ye sank like a stone, and I dived in after you. I got hold of you— and the spar, too, thank God. Ye had a bit of rigging tangled round your leg, dragging ye down, but I managed to get that off.” He heaved a deep sigh, and rubbed his head. 

“I just held to ye; and after a time, I felt sand under my feet. I carried ye ashore, and a bit later, some men found us and brought us here. That’s all.” He shrugged. 

I felt cold, despite the warm breeze coming in through the windows. 

“What happened to the ship? And the men? Ian? Lawrence?” 

“Safe, I think. They couldna reach us, with the mast broken— by the time they’d rigged a makeshift sail, we were long gone.” He coughed roughly, and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. “But they’re safe; the men who found us said they’d seen a small ketch go aground on a mud flat a quarter-mile south of here; they’ve gone down to salvage and bring back the men.” 

He took a swallow of water, swished it about his mouth, and going to the window, spat it out. 

“I’ve sand in my teeth,” he said, grimacing, as he returned. “And my ears. And my nose, and the crack of my arse, too, I shouldna wonder.” 

I reached out and took his hand again. His palm was heavily calloused, but still showed the tender swelling of rising blisters, with shreds of ragged skin and raw flesh, where earlier blisters had burst and bled. 

“How long were we in the water?” I asked, gently tracing the lines of his swollen palm. The tiny “C” at the base of his thumb was faded almost to invisibility, but I could still feel it under my finger. “Just how long did you hold on?” 

“Long enough,” he said simply. 

He smiled a little, and held my hand more tightly, despite the soreness of his own. It dawned on me suddenly that I wasn’t wearing anything; the linen sheets were smooth and cool on my bare skin, and I could see the swell of my nipples, rising under the thin fabric. 

“What happened to my clothes?” 

“I couldna hold ye up against the drag of your skirts, so I ripped them off,” he explained. “What was left didna seem worth saving.” 

“I don’t suppose so,” I said slowly, “but Jamie— what about you? Where’s your coat?” 

He shrugged, then let his shoulders drop, and smiled ruefully. 

“At the bottom of the sea with my shoon, I expect,” he said. And the pictures of Willie and Brianna there, too. 

“Oh, Jamie. I’m so sorry.” I reached for his hand and held it tightly. He looked away, and blinked once or twice.


6:th of December

A/U: So again a request from a friend, requests are welcome and as always feel free to like and reblog, Enjoy! :)

Warning: Fluff,language and a little sexual i guess

Pairing: Matty x reader

x-gifs not mine, always credits to owners

It took over three knocks before he opened. You had to sit down because of your dizziness.

“Y/N what the fuck?” Matty has wearing a big white shirt and his boxers. He dropped down beside you and helped you up.

“Matty, I’m tired and I can’t find home” He led you inside and closed the door.

“Are you drunk? “ He said as he took off your jacket.

“Maybe” You giggled. “Sorry, Did I wake you Matty patty?” He smiled and rubbed his eyes before saying “Yeah”. He guided you to the sofa.

“Say if you’re going to throw up an I’ll take you to the bathroom.” He went to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. “Thank you” You slurred back.

“So how come you’re drunk at my place at four in the morning?” He yelled from the kitchen. You looked down at the black dress you were wearing.

“I went out with my friends and I missed you” You said and laid down in his sofa. He gave you the water and sat down on a coffee table in front of the sofa.

“How are you feeling?” He asked and wiped away some hair from your face. You looked at him but stayed quiet.

“I’m sad Matty.” You said and looked down at your fingers. He got up and sat down next to you in the sofa, patting on his lap for you to place your head.

“And why is that love?” He said as he stroked your hair.

“Because I think I love you and you don’t give a fuck about me.” You whispered. His hands stopped for a minute before continuing. He sighed and looked you in the eyes.

“Well I guess you won’t remember this” He laughed a little to himself

“But I think about you all the time. Your face, your body and how much I want you.” You sat up and looked him in the eyes. He gave you a little smile. The smile you loved to see.

“Then take me” You said now a little bit too close to his face. His eyes looked like they were screaming for you so you kissed him. You could feel him relax as he kissed you back. His hands wandered to your hips and pushed your legs to the side so that you were now facing him in his lap. Your hands went under his shirt as your kisses turned rushed and wet. Your hands got to his boxers when he stopped you. He closed his eyes and bit his under lip.

“I-i can’t.” He said. “Believe me, I really want to but… you’re drunk, It wouldn’t be okay” You felt you heart sink as you began to trying to stand up, but he stopped you. You held onto his arm as you said.

“Would a cuddle be okay then?” You smiled at him as he got up and gave you a fast kiss.

“Sure, I mean if we can’t fuck than we can at least hug” He said and took your hand, dragging you to his bedroom.

“I’ll just get a bucket if you feel sick tonight” he said and walked out of the room. You took your opportunity to get undressed and sat down on the bed. He stopped in the door frame as he saw you, paralysed. You smiled and crawled down under the covers in his soft bed. You pat next to you as he took of his clothes. He laid down next to you. You thought he was afraid to touch you so you rolled over and half beside, half over him. You could feel him smile to himself after kissing your head.

“Goodnight” You said and kissed his chest as he stroke your head.

“Night love” He said in a quiet laugh. You had never been this happy before.

A short little future-take from Pure that literally no one asked for but you’re getting it anyways because it got stuck in my head after someone on here wrote a post about waking up in a hospital and smiling because the person you love is sitting there asleep, but whatever, the muse is fickle and I have learned not to scoff at her gifts. RATED M for brief smutish content. If you’ve read the whole story, fear not! There is very little angst here. If you haven’t read it, you probably won’t understand all of the references but that shouldn’t detract too much from enjoying what’s below.

I spent enough time wandering this hospital when Sarah was assaulted to know exactly where I’m going. Three quick turns left and one flight of stairs up. I even know which board to stop at, scanning the names for the one I want, my stomach twisting when I find it next to the number 12K. Ironic.

Turning on my heel, I charge down the hall, right past the nurses’ station.

“Miss…Miss! You can’t be on this ward unless–!”

I whirl around to face the nurse, barely holding back tears, arms crossed over my chest to keep my heart from crumbling to ash in my chest. Fucking hormones. She balks at the look in my eyes, but I don’t need her calling security on me so I huff and manage to get myself somewhat under control.

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Odin (A Binding on Ichor series)

Originally posted by smiletotheshadow

Pairing: Ivar X Reader

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: prepare yourself for cute things

-The Morrígna- -Odin- -Cernnunos- and -Anu-

It would have been a simple part 2 title but good ol’ Morrigan (Non-plural of the name) wasn’t mentioned, a certain someone else in the current title was soooo…introducing a theme of Gods now. Odin forcing my hand to a new title.

Your father leaves you with two bridal gifts, one to protect you and the other to protect your home. Both help reveal just a little more about you to Ivar, but not as much as how you deal with criminals.


For someone who woke him up first you were taking awhile to leave. Ivar was set and ready to go in the wagon when he saw why. Your goodbyes were carefree and final, yet your mother was in tears and would break from you only to steal another tight embrace. The endearment was sobering to witness, bringing him back to his final parting with his own mother though his was much less promising. Much like he was back then, you seemed entirely assured and satisfied this was your path.

Spinning on a leash around your more melancholy father’s feet was a black and brown puppy, or at least Ivar assumed it was a puppy, the little beast was the size of a small child. His legs were gangly, his tail long and thin, excitedly whipping at his heels as he got stuck at the King’s feet, one floppy ears flipped back as he looked up. Surprisingly when you finally got away from your mother, your father untangled himself and handed you the leather rope. Ivar sat up to see you leading the happy dog to the wagon.

“I was not told we would have a third party…” he teased seeing how tired you looked up close. Clearly your Goddess had left in time for you to deal with your parents long goodbyes.

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Earthbound, in (Arcade) Sprite Form!

This is an older sprite set but I just wanted to repost it

Ness is the only one that seems to care a picture is being taken, so I tried to capture that here as well. That house is the first time you get a pic taken by that pervert dude. Can you bypass that and then come back with all of your allies to have them in the pic like this?

I think I made Jeff a bit too cool and concentrated on his gun way more than his gadgets or fireworks. Ah well. Theres Evidence suggesting Poo is much older than the other kids, and the others are around 13ish years old. Anybody want to confirm this for me? And my final thought is that I never realized until I sprited it is that Mr. Saturns are basically just naked, walking Mario Heads with legs. its kinda creepy.

Please Reblog and Follow me for more sprites!

nct’s ideal body types (non-minor members)


generally speaking, i really don’t believe that they’d care overly a lot. it wouldn’t be a deal breaker and none of them would be like “oh, but you dont have the body type that i want bye bitch” so this is just speaking in a sense of what i think they might like and who i see them with.  

also hi im not including mark because hes still a baby he may be 18 but hes a BABY 

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Not Today

pairing: John Winchester x Reader

fandom: supernatural

warnings: spanking, smut(ish)

request: “He’s into spanking, having you bend over his knees until you whimper and beg him to stop, visible red streaks across your ass.” This headcanon for John literally made me melt!! Can you do a smutty one shot based off of that?! Maybe the reader done something he didn’t like. Possibly back talk or roll her eyes! Anything really, but I am just dying for that!! Thanks! 

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @dead-head-joker

The air was practically burning with his rage. You barely dared to move a muscle.
After John had dragged you out of that bar and shoved you into his truck, he hadn’t said a word to you. His gaze was focused on the dark road in front of him, knuckles almost completely white around the wheel. You had your head against the window and watched the trees pass by.
It was just a harmless flirt with the bartender because you did need some information. It wasn’t like John hadn’t done it a million times before, just that in this case the bartender was a guy and you worked your charm on him.
Bad idea. Really bad. John wasn’t the sharing type at all and you could literally see the gears working in his head. It made you nervous and excited at the same time, completely on edge.

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Bedroom Eyes - Leon Draisaitl

Originally posted by mcdraii

Fuucccckkk me upppp Leon!  This one if kind of short but I had some family stuff to deal with the other day so this is all I ended up writing, I hope you still enjoy it! Much love pals! <3

Word count: 622

Warnings: little tiny bit of steam

Request: “#34 with leon draisaitl??? pls and thanks!! btw i love your writing ❤️” - @angelinasalvador

Prompt: “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

Up next: Tyler Seguin


You and Leon had a rare day off together, so when you woke up to sunshine streaming through your window, you decided you were going to go to the beach.  

“Wake up sleepyhead!” you murmured as you kissed Leon’s bare chest.  His eyes stayed shut but his mouth broke out into a smile, “good morning babe” his voice still raspy.

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His Colours

I absolutely love this. I’m unsure about the quality but the idea - I’m in love. I can imagine this boy with his colours and his grin so clearly and he’s already managed to tug at my heart over the few days I’ve been writing it. I truly and deeply hope you enjoy it. Please enjoy.

The trees smile down protectively over the shrubbery and dirt, they block out the sun to the best of their ability but the sun manages to glare through the branches every once in a while.

It’s peaceful, which is why I enjoy spending time hidden and surrounded by nature, miles from any human contact. I sit between to gigantic roots, my flask balancing on top of the left one like a first-rate acrobat and my backpack resting at my feet.

I’m a tiny fraction of the forest. I barely makes one whole percent, and the idea of it fills me with contentment, along with a dash of curiosity. Wondering just how far out the trees have taken over and made the land their own, I’m left to scan my surroundings.

It’s murky in every direction, but the darkness doesn’t take over until much further away, as though there’s something in the far distance that someone doesn’t want me to see, so they result in blacking it out, erasing it from my vision.

The odd bird will chirp high up in the trees and - in the opposite direction - another will attempt to imitate it. This happens so often that I become used to it and its effect weakens so that I’m no longer startled by it as I was to begin with.

I’m content as I sit under the tree, feeling its hard bark pressing into my back, and I take a sip of the hot chocolate that stays heated and creamy within my flask. The sweet smell of chocolate would probably be feeling my senses if it wasn’t for the dirt and wood having such an effect.

There’s a slight gush of wind and it causes the bushes nearby to dance against it. I try to tell myself that a chill runs down my back because of the sudden wind, not because of fear creeping into my stomach.

The time ticks by and the air gets colder with each minute that passes, although I hardly notice because I become so involved with the words of Stephen King, they’re printed beautifully across the pages but they turn into one whole blur as my eyes swing from left to right.

There’s another shaking of leaves ahead of me, but my mind and my body know not to be afraid at this point so I don’t move.

Wendy and Danny Torrance are shopping for Christmas presents in the world within my book, and I find myself adoring Jack Torrance, despite knowing things are taking their time to go down the steep hill. My heart drops into my stomach and my neck cracks from the force of lifting it so suddenly when I hear the snapping of twigs ahead of me.

The darkness is a curtain, stopping me from seeing more than fifty feet in front of me. It only heightens the panic that I thought was nonexistent. Cautiously, I close my book and rest it on the tree trunk beside me. I watch the darkness and wait.

My heart is alive and angry. It’s threatening to slide up my throat and in my mouth. I swallow and get the feeling I’m going to throw up, I rub my hands together slowly as a stupid attempt to distract myself.

Whether it’s my imagination - with my panic having a say in it also - or my ears telling me the truth, I’m not sure, but I hear a low growl coming from the black. A gasp betrays my secret vow to keep as quiet as possible and leaves my lips.

Before I can do anything, (not that I had any smart plan in mind) there’s a movement too clear to have been a trick of the light, or my imagination. A set of black boots appear out of the shadows; they’re layered with dried mud splatters and the laces - maybe once as yellow as the sun - are now frayed and a mix of dark green and a light brown. While my eyes are inspecting them, they move closer to me. 

The black boots are followed by black jeans that seem to fit securely around the legs. There’s rips and tears that don’t look like the usual you see on teenagers; I don’t think these ones are voluntary.  The skin beneath them looks unusual but I decide it’s likely to be because of the darkness clouding my vision.

I’ve been too busy collecting tiny bits of insignificant features that I didn’t realise the pressure that seems to be increasing on my back. I’ve been leaning back so much that the bark of the tree is digging into the skin between my shoulder blades, I assume it’ll leave marks for a few hours.

I chance a glance at the figure once more and see a set of eyes staring at me, burning into my entire being. They looked as though they were glowing.

It’s silent for some time, although I can hear my heart thumping violently inside of me skull and my ears are starting to ring. The figure is getting closer.

I want to scream and run as fast as my legs can carry me, I want to cry out for help, but all I manage to do is part my lips, expecting some coherent sentence to come out.

“What are you doing here?” the figures asks and a shiver - that is definitely not caused by the wind this time  - shocks my spine.

The moonlight decides to help me by casting a soft light on the figure. I can see the top of their head shines a caramel colour and the hair swipes back with a messy look. I’m not able to keep my gaze on their hair because almost instantly, something else catches my eye.

Along the skin, red marks glow like a fire in full force. The patterns don’t see to have any specific form but instead, random and unsystematic across every inch of visible skin.

“Answer me.”

The breath hitches in my throat as though someone has reached down into me and stopped me from being able to do anything but stare with panic. My feet feel glued to the dirt layering the ground.

“I-I, I wasn’t doing anything-“

“You shouldn’t be here. These aren’t your parts. You’re mundane, a normal.”

To this, I can’t help but frown. The boy didn’t seem to attempt to ease his disgust at the words ‘mundane’ and ‘normal’ to avoid offended me. Despite this, I’m too terrified by the whole situation to bring it up.

The boy - whose age seems to show the closer he gets, I can see the darkness under his eyes and the frown set onto his forehead, but his skin looked smooth and ironed out - watched me closely with dark eyes. They were dangerously close to being completely black.

“What’s your name?” he asks, and when his pink lips part, I can see his canines are sharp and glistening white. A silent gasp travels up my dry throat.

“I was taught not to talk to strangers, never mind going around and telling them my name willy-nilly.” I surprise myself with the amount of strength behind my words.

“You’ve already shown you’re incapable of following rules; you’ve spoken to me plenty a time already.”

I ignore his remark and catch another glimpse of his arms. The marks infesting his arms were no longer just red, but yellow and black also. Maybe I just hadn’t noticed them previously.

“What did you mean by ‘mundane’ and ‘normal’?” I take the risk of asking, and in response, I see the boy’s unlighted eyes staring into my own.

“Well,” he starts. “The official definition is the lacking of excitement or interest- dull even, but I implied that you’re ordinary, you’re normal. Human.”

At this, I laughed. I can tell it took the boy by surprise because the scowl lifted off of his face momentarily while he raised an eyebrow. “And what are you? Some kind of abnormal being?”

“I’ve been called that before, yes, but that’s not my official title.”

I scan his face for some sign of amusement but find nothing. The level of confusion within my body sky-rockets and I’m uncertain of my strength of containing it. The atmosphere seems to change ever so slowly, and being able to see the full figure of the boy, it makes it less daunting and I’m able to stand somewhat confidently.

“What are those on your arms?”

He looks down at them as though he was only just noticing they were there. The red appears to be fading but I can’t be sure due to the dark.

“My marks,” he mutters proudly. “Pointless and a rather weak strategy, but I think they add a little something.”

“Is that how you know I’m human? Because I don’t have any of those?” I ask slowly; weirdly, not wanting to wipe the pride off this boy’s face.

He nods, “and you humans have a different scent. Yours seems to be attempting to mix with the scent of sandalwood and dirt.” He clocks the flush that rises to centre of my cheeks and the shock in my expression. “Although I assume that has to do with the fact that you’re strolling around the middle of the forest in the early evening.”

“What’s the problem? Am I not allowed to be here? Is there some kind of law that says humans aren’t supposed to mix with your - supposedly - different kind?”

“Of course not, each of us merely agreed to stay away from each other when we clashed a few hundred years ago. If you looked, there’s a high chance you’d see a sign saying ‘keep out’ in big black letters at the entrance to this place.”

After being stood in the open space for so long, the boy walks over to my spot between the two tree trunks and sits down. When he bends his leg I can see the swirling patterns through the rips in his jeans.

“So, you’re not human?” I question, taking a step forward.

“No,” he replies. “But I have no way of showing you and quite frankly, I couldn’t care less whether you’re convinced or not.”

The razor-sharp teeth and the near-black eyes and the colours of his skin, still fading and appearing and changing, they’re all doing an incredible job of convincing her that this wasn’t a dream, and he was most definitely not human.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?”

“Don’t be stupid, I don’t have any of my torture weapons with me,” he states calmly and lets his pointer finger twirl around the lid of my flask. “There’s nothing I can do. You haven’t really done anything wrong, besides trespassing.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mean to-“

“Forget it. You should count your lucky stars it was me who found you and not someone else, they’re not so forgiving.”

I bite my tongue and take a seat at the other side of the tree trunk. It becomes a wall between us. I grab my flask, snap the lid open and take a sip. I’m thankful to be able to feel the warm liquid seeping into my system and heating my body.

I’m unable to believe mere moments ago I was contemplating running for my life when this boy seems harmless, (I call him a boy due to the fact that I’m unsure as to what he is.)

“Would, would you like some?” I ask politely without thinking and I can feel my cheeks buzzing softly.

“What is it?”

“It was hot chocolate, but now, it’s more lukewarm chocolate.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t.” He looks between the flask and my face, probably seeing my hesitant wonder. “My system wouldn’t have it. It could either have minor affects, a little bit of throwing up and spitting blood here and there, or I’d drop dead in a matter of hours. I like to think of myself as a bit of a chancer, but a hot drink doesn’t seem worth it.”

I’m given more information than I expected, and all I can do is nod, pulling the flask slowly into my lap. “So, those marks, how’d you get them?”

“Do you always ask a lot of questions?” He turns to look at me. I don’t think his facial expression has changed once yet.

I’m taken aback and I cower like an abandoned puppy. “Sorry,” I mutter.

It’s quiet for a moment and I can see the boy tracing the patterns on his skin. The yellows are burning bright now and the red seems to be being replaced with browns and greys. I’m itching to know what he’s feeling.

“I’ve had them since birth, I was born with them,” he murmurs, not looking at me.

“They’re quite pretty,” I say, biting the edge of the flask now.

He chuckles. “Thank you, human. I have to say, your skin is quite boring.” He grins and I’m able to be given front row seats to the view of his sharp teeth. I wonder how much damage they could do.

“I have to agree with you on that. You must feel artistically beautiful all the time with those things.”

“Not really, because while you’re seeing these for the first time, they’re normal for my kind so they’re not a big deal. It’s nice to have them appreciated though.”

Orange seeps onto his skin, moving from his fingertips to his elbows. I watch it happen in complete awe.

His colours radiated slightly now, and I could see pink creeping up his neck due to his cheeks flushing, not the patterns. He looks embarrassed and I can’t understand why. He folds his arms over each other. The orange and the yellow and the brown and the grey are the only colours that I can see; everything is being dominated by the darkness except his colours.

“What do the colours mean?”

He sighs and I cringe, knowing I’ve asked yet another question. “It’s difficult because colours can mean a lot of different things. For example, that orange is me being cheerful because I liked the idea of someone appreciating my marks, and that brown- it’s fading now, but that was boredom. The grey was me being uninterested, but look, now that the conversation has steered towards me, it’s fading.” The boy flashes a playful smirk and runs his slender fingers through his jungle of hair.

“And what does the yellow mean?” I ask, pointing to the colour burning bright on the back of his upper arm. He cranes his neck to find it immediately.

“Oh, that’s hunger. I’m starving.”

I remember that I have a chocolate bar in my bag and gently reach to grab it as it sits at his feet. I rummage through it but pause instantly.

“W-what do you eat?” My hand is wrapped around the chocolate bar, but I wait for him to speak.

“I love dead bird with a side dish of human fingers, and some blood for drinking.” I think he sees my body retract and my face drop because he laughs loudly. The yellow spreads and I assume that it means something different. “I’m kidding, what’d’you got?”

A big gush of relief washes over me and I pull the bar out of my bag. He takes it without another word and unwraps it. I sit back against the tree and let the silence take me under. Hugging the flask to my chest, I listen as the boy devours the chocolate bar gratefully. It’s still fairly dark in the forest, but the boy illuminates the space around us with his colours - blue, yellow, orange and a hint of red blend glimmer on their own accord.

anonymous asked:

For the chocobros, how does sleeping with their s/o usually go? Like what positions do they sleep in? And who wakes up with the worst case of bedhead?

You just know Noctis and Prompto will have the worst bed hair out of the chocobros. Noct’s will just end up looking like an extremely battered feather duster, and Promptos will literally look as though a number of baby chocobos have taken refuge on his scalp.

Noctis - I can actually see him being quite cuddly in his sleep, like he’s just gonna be burying his face into the crook of his s/o’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around their waist, and their legs are gonna be all tangled and shit. It’d actually be really sweet. He’d probably snore, but very quietly. Like there’d be a lot of snuffling and he’d probably talk a little in his sleep too, altho none of it would make sense, like he’d just be fast asleep and then he’d suddenly mumble out ’IMPERIALS ABOVE US You look like an avocado’ or something stupid, before turning over and falling completely silent again. He’d definitely be hard to wake up in the morning tho, his s/o would have to get creative, like screaming in his ear or pouring a bucket of water over him or giving him a blowie .

Prompto - He’s gonna be such a fucking diva in his sleep honestly, he’d go from being really cuddly one second, and then the next he’s gonna be pushing his s/o away from him moaning in his sleep and flinging the covers off, due to too much body heat. He’s definitely gonna be restless af. Like I can imagining him giggling in his sleep sometimes? And he’s gonna be tossing and turning to the point where his s/o is gonna be whacked across the face a couple of times, accidentally ofc. However, when he isn’t being a diva and he is actually being his usual, snuggly self, he’s probs gonna be lying with his head tucked into his s/o’s neck, or like he’d be using her boobs as pillows and his cheek would just be smushed against them. He’d be like a clingy af koala.

Gladiolus - This guy right here is gonna be like a fucking corpse when he sleeps. Like if it weren’t for the fact that his snores sound like Chewbacca then he would literally be mistaken as dead and carted off to the morgue. Literally once he’s asleep he ain’t gonna move at all. In terms of sleeping with his s/o, they’re gonna need some ear plugs to block out his thunderous snores. He’d probably enjoy falling asleep spooning his s/o tbh, he’d be the big spoon ofc, and then in the morning he’d wake them up by grinding his morning wood against their ass my body is ready .

Ignis - Okay so Iggy Bitch here is a light sleeper, and since he always seems to be up so early he’d probably go to bed early too. I think he and his s/o would fall asleep facing each other, like their forheads would almost be touhing, and their legs would be all tangled together and shit. He’d have his arm tucked under his s/o’s head as a pillow, and his other arm would be slung over their waist. I don’t think he’d snore much, maybe some heavy breathing, and he might mumble in his sleep a bit all like ‘Thats it! I’ve come up with a new recipe!’ Tbh I think after he’s lost his eyesight he might struggle to sleep, or he’d wake up a lot during the night from nightmares and shit, so whenever that happens he’d just gently embrace his s/o, trying not to wake them up, but taking great comfort in their touch and presence. *loud sobbing*

I was just thinking about that trope of authors using foods like “chocolate” or “coffee” or “cinnamon” to describe a character’s skin, and then I wondered what would happen if they did the same with white people. Here’s what I came up with:

Her eyes gleamed like tiny pieces of cucumber in a smooth, clear face the color of uncooked chicken.

His creamy skin was the precise shade of day-old shortbread that would not be out of place in the apartment kitchen of some nursing home in the suburbs.

Their legs, pale from lack of sun, were the color of a suspiciously pink iced latte, with perhaps a bit too much milk, but sufficiently caffeinated nonetheless.

Long Day

Pairing: Jasmine Cephas Jones x Female!Reader

Warnings: Some offensive terms regarding LGBT+ orientations. (I fully support the LGBT+ community, I promise.) and a couple curses. I tried to censor all that. and maybe I might have some bad grammar every now and then, sorry.

A/N: A while back, I deleted all of my writing because I was having a bad day, and I really felt like I needed to start over. No one really seemed to notice so I guess that’s good that I didn’t make anyone upset? If you want me to bring one of them back, please let me know. Hope this thing isn’t crap, and know that I love to all so much. Thank you for supporting me and staying with me. You guys are incredible. I hope you enjoy what I try to provides my beautifuls. 💚

A hug.

That’s all I wanted. That’s all I needed.

Today was absolutely miserable.

This morning, I slept through my alarm clock, so I barely had time to do my morning routine, while trying to whip up something for breakfast. The eggs I had on the stove burst into flames while I was in the middle of drying my face, so I completely panicked. I removed the frying pan on the stove but my shaking hands dropped a good portion of the food onto the burner. I dumped the pan into the sink and turned on the water. The only thing I heard was a loud sizzle and I closed my eyes and hung my head back in annoyance.

My senses jolted like crazy when a sudden crack scared the crap out of me. The cord to the coffee machine melted under the heat of the pan and shocked under the water. I bolted and slammed into the counter as I jumped to shut off the water, as one last (and fairly loud) crack resonated from the damn machine. It was definitely broken and I could already tell today was going to be a terrible day.

Traffic was a mess. There was a crash ahead of a long line of cars, and I was not in the mood to wait. But at least it wasn’t me in the crash.

I arrived to work a good half hour late and my boss flipped out. Whatever. She rambled on and on about how I have to be at work as soon as possible and all that.

“-and this is the last time. I’m not giving you any more second chances!”

You never gave me any chances to begin with, but okay. “Yes ma'am,” I replied boredly, and ambled over to my cubicle.

My co-worker, who sat right next to me gave his traditional exaggerated gag at me. He’s never been too “supportive” of my relationship, to put things nicely. I let out a deep exhale, followed by an eyeroll.

“Hello to you too,” making sure to drag out my sarcasm. ‘Asshole’, I wanted to add on the end.

“Your presence is so displeasing to be around,”

“Thanks. I try.”

“Why are you always like this?!” he stood up, and yelled angrily.

“Always like what? A human being?” I replied as calmly as I could.

“You homosexuals think you can just do or say whatever the hell you want? Because it makes you ‘sassy’ and ‘appreciable’ instead of so damn irritating?!” he spat at me. His disgusting saliva hit my pant leg. As ready as I was to knock him out with a single blow, I couldn’t loose my job, despite how much I hated every bit of it. I slowly grabbed a tissue and began wiping it off.

“You’re really pathetic, you know? You’re too much of a coward to fight back! Is that why you call yourself ‘queer’?” he mocked quotation marks with his hands. “Because you couldn’t find a single man who was interested in you?? That you were such a desperate wh*re for a good time, you paid a sl*t to be with you?”

My chest rose and lowered heavily with irritation, and I felt the bridge of my nose begin to heat up. My eyebrows furrowed down in complete anger as I clenched my knuckles in some way to lower my temper. I dug my thumbnail into my palm to distract me from his lashing out.

“You and your imaginary 'identity’ and 'girlfriend’ are all going to rot in hell! And a good riddance too. The world could use one less dyk-”


I’m pretty sure I dislocated his jaw, and knocked out a few teeth. He fell to the floor, hand flying to his mouth. His eyes were tightened shut and he let out a small sob. All my frustration left through my fist and into his face. I instantly regretted my decision, but at the same time I didn’t. I was not going to have any more of his bullsh*t.

“Who’s pathetic now, asshole??” I felt so relieved after such a quick turn of events. But that relief turned into regret. I knew what came next as I heard the approaching of clicking heels.

“What did I just say??” my boss yelled in utter distress. She screamed my last name. I flinched, because of the sudden volume change. “This was your last chance! You’re fired! I want all of your stuff out of here by tomorrow morning!” she screeched. I let that built up flame in me turn into a blazing inferno.

“I’m glad to leave this dump anyways!” I scoffed, “Good luck without me! Have fun with that 20% drop in profits!” I pulled a box out from under my desk and started slamming my things into it, laughing maniacally, “And you,” I turned my attention to the moaning pile of pity on the floor. Bloody drool was oozing out of his mouth and staining the scratchy carpeting, “hope that divorce is going well! I heard she re-married the guy she cheated on you with!”

I grabbed my box of things and sped towards the exit. I didn’t dare look back.

I made my way to my car and shoved my box of items in the trunk. I drove home angrily, not wanting to think of past events. Once I pulled into my driveway, I didn’t get out of my car. I looked to my side and saw Jazz’s car. Right, today’s her day off. I froze, and completely broke down. I dropped my forehead onto the wheel and the horn let out a long honk.

“What the hell did I just do??” I cried to myself. I held my head in my hands in disappointment and let it all out. The one thing I regretted the most was that I’d still need to return to that sad place one last time to finish up all of my unanswered paperwork and end things finally. I hit my palm into my forehead while muttering “stupid, stupid, stupid” over and over.

It took me a good amount of time, and a lot of heavy sighs to heave myself out of the car and to the door. I placed my box down on the ground and fumbled through my purse for my keys. As soon as I’d pulled them out of my bag, they slipped out of my trembling hands and into the box of clamored items. I took a moment to smack my hand against my face, then after a sharp inhale, I dug my arm into the box and scrambled around for those goddamn keys. After managing to cut my arm against a sharp object, I retrieved my keys and opened the door.

I was greeted with the angelic voice of my girlfriend humming a tune I believe she improvised. She noticed me immediately and walked over. Her face read happiness but suddenly cut to worry once she saw my box.

“Oh, baby,” she took the box and placed it on the nearest table and engulfed me in a warm, loving embrace. I couldn’t help jerk out a small cry. She rubbed her arm up and down my back soothingly.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay,” she reassured. Her voice was gentle and soft. I couldn’t help but feel my sadness lift. Everything about her just seemed to make my mood fade away. I held her tighter. Of all the things I lost today, my time, my breakfast, my temper, my job, I sure as hell was not going to lose my girlfriend.

She was the only thing right about today.

“Do you want to talk about it, baby? Do you need to let it out?” she brought her arm up over my shoulder.

I nodded. “Maybe,” I choked, “maybe in a minute. I just need this right now,” I mumbled.

“Take all the time you need baby,” she loosened her grip the slightest and led me to sit down on the couch. She closed the door and sat next to me, encasing her arms over my shoulders once more. I leaned onto her shoulders, letting a few tears slide down my cheeks.

“I’ve been having the worst luck, Jazz,” I sniffled.

“It’s okay, babe-”

“No it’s not,” I shut my eyes as the muscles in my mouth contorted into a painful frown, “Jazz, I lost my job,” I whispered.

You didn’t lose your job, they lost their best, and most hard working employee,” her hand rubbed circles into my side. My frustration and anxiety seemed to melt at her touch.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t let him,” I growled out, “freaking him bother me. I promised myself he wouldn’t affect me, and I totally just-”

“Babe, what did you do?”

I sniffed and closed my mouth. I cut the conversation in silence. The house was quiet other than the low vibrating sound of the air conditioner. Jasmine rested her cheek on the top on my head, while she adjusted her arms so one was over my shoulder and the other was around my waist. Then I decided to speak.

“..I might’ve punched him,” I squeaked.

Jazz let out a breathy chuckle.

“That’s my girl!” she laughed aloud.

That damn contagious laugh. I tried to stifle a giggle.

“No, Jazz, I lost my job because of that!”

“Who cares? That d*ck got what he deserved!”

“I’ll admit that, yeah.”

We had a good, small laugh session. Then the fun started to die down. Once again, I couldn’t help but worry.

“Jazz,” I hesitated, “I-I lost my job..”

“Aw, baby, don’t worry about it. You were the best employee they’d ever dream of having. You’ll get such a better job in a matter of minutes!” she pressed a kiss against my cheek.

“You really think so?” I doubted.

“I know so. Babe, you’re the smartest, strongest, most talented person I’ll ever know.”

“Besides yourself,” I added jokingly.

She smirked, “I mean, if you insist.”

I gave her a little playful push. “How is it you know exactly how to make things better?”

“If it’s alright now, then there really was nothing that needed to get better,” she pressed her forehead against mine.

“Wise words of a wise woman,” I lifted my head up to connect our lips. When we disconnected, I just stared and smiled at the goddess I could claim as my own.

This makes everything right. The only acceptance I need is from my Jazzy. The only love I need is from my Jazzy. The only thing that’s right is my Jazzy.

“How about I call Pippa and Née over and we all go see a movie or something?”

“In a minute,” I wrapped my arms around her as she pulled me close once more, “can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, baby”

“God, how did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself that all the time.”

A hug from her was all I needed.

A long hug after a long day.
Constructive criticism is always appreciated :)


At last I’ve taken my first step to completing my Emperor’s Children Legion army for the Horus Heresy!

These are five Mk. 4 marines from the Betrayal at Calth boxed set. These first ones have bolters permanently attached since I knew at least some would have to be done that way, and later I’ll make some with swappable special weapons.

I put a couple accessories on each but I tried to limit that since I didn’t want them too busy, so any individual marine has two tops.

It’s been quite the adventure getting these models going but I’m happy with the overall paint scheme I’ve come up with. I was going to paint the bolter casings plain black and leave the metallic casings for special weapons and officers, but I didn’t like how that was turning out so I changed my mind and did a metallic colour for them anyways. I figured if I liked that better then there’s no point in not doing that. Plus they already have a decent amount of black on them with the harnesses, joints, and the upper parts of their backpacks all black. So I think that breaks it up a little better. I decided to go with green eyes to contrast with the armour a little better, but I may do some with red eyes in the future too.

I did weather the armour a little bit. Mostly on the legs where I imagine more chipping would occur. I didn’t want to do too much of that since being the third legion, I still wanted them to be fairly clean and pretty looking. That being said, adding a couple chips and scratches adds some visual interest to the wide open flat areas and I find helps add some more realism to the armour. The bottoms of their boots and greaves are also weathered with a little bit of the colour on the base just to tie them together a little bit. It doesn’t show up too drastically since they have a fairly dark scheme anyways, and again I didn’t want to have a lot of that, but I think it’s just enough.

I think I’ll have to come up with a more interesting way to paint the combat blades if I put more on the next marines I paint. The blade itself is a little plain. The freehanding on the shoulders isn’t that great either, but I think it gets the point across and at least they’re not just blank :). I won’t be able to get the transfer sheet from Forge World any more anyways since it’s out of print. So I might as well do the Emperor’s Children iconography myself so they’re at least all consistent. In for a penny in for a pound!

One of the marines had it’s left arm sag a little bit while the glue was setting unfortunately, but at least it’s not in a careful aiming pose. That one also ended up like way off center of the base somehow. Oops! I’ll have to be more careful of that in the future.

I think that’s everything I wanted to mention. These are just the first few in a long line of pre-Heresy Emperor’s Children to come. Honourable mentions go to @boilingcopper for pointing out that the combat blades actually have a slot where you can attach them to the backpacks, and to @seerinthevoid for their tips on painting Emperor’s Children! Thanks guys!

Next up I hope to paint 5 more of the Mk. 4 marines including a sergeant which will take advantage of some of the fancy Forge World pieces, a missile launcher wielding marine, and a few with swappable weapons, but I’m still waiting on some magnets to arrive to get that going.

Anyways I hope you like them! Happy Easter to those celebrating and look for more updates in the future!

anonymous asked:

Hey~ Thank you for your hard work and good luck from now on as well! 😊 It's the first time I request something, so I hope it's ok. How about Aomine, Hanamiya, Haizaki and Nash comforting their girlfriend when she feels bad/embarrassed because of body hair (arms & tummy)? I'm trying to accept this about myself and I'm still feeling weird in public about it 😢 Thank you very much and have a nice day/night! 🤗

Aw darling, thank you so much for the luck! imo, hair is just hair, but I can understand where you’re coming from bby. I dislike the hair on my legs, but found as I’ve gotten older that I don’t care if people see it as much anymore I still shave though omg I like feeling smooth too

Aomine: He doesn’t understand why you felt the need to hide. It was just hair, after all; every one had it. “You think that’s bad?” Sitting next to you as you try to hide away your arms, Aomine rolls up the hem of his pant leg, showing you his calf. “This. This is bad,” he says, comparing himself to you. Somehow, the way he’s able to make fun of himself a little makes you feel a bit better.

Hanamiya: “Then shave.” He knows what he’s saying sounds insensitive, but it was the quickest solution that he could see to a problem you seemed to have. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear though, and Hanamiya knew that. “I don’t think it’s a problem,” he says and it’s the closest he’s going to get to telling you that he loves the way you look, with or without the hair.

Haizaki: There’s a noise that resembles a scoff from Haizaki’s throat as he rolls his eyes at you. “You think you’re hairy?” His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, dipping under the fabric to caress at your skin. At the same time he’s taking one of your hands, pulling it underneath his own shirt and making you graze your fingers over that trail of hair he has. “Need I remind you of this?” He smirks.

Nash: “Don’t try to hide yourself,” he says one day, noticing how you’d always cover your arms with long sleeves. “You look fine. More than that, you look great.” But you refused to uncover them, making Nash sigh a bit. “You could always do things to get rid of it,” he suggests, giving up for now on making you see yourself the way he sees you and instead giving you some advice.

Chilled Evenings- Dan Howell

A/N: Thought I would try out a fluff, see how things work out. I don’t think this is the best but I promise I tried!

 Pairing: Dan x reader

 Warnings: Swearing

I look over at the desk, where Dan’s currently editing some gaming video he had done with Phil. It was pretty quiet in the new apartment, the light humming sound of the television Phil’s watching in the living room, the faint clicking of the keyboard, cars passing by at a probably dangerous speed occasionally.

It’s moments like these that I live for. I’m not one much for partying or going out to a fancy restaurant. I’m more of a chill out, order food kind of person. Plus, it gave me a chance to catch up on work that I’ve procrastinated on.

“You aright?” Dan asks, gaining my attention once again.

I nod, slightly embarrassed that I dozed off staring at him. “’M fine, just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He smirks back, taking off the headphones and leaning back.

“My thoughts are definitely worth more, but for you, I’ll make an exception,” I laugh, crossing my legs on the sofa bed. “Just thinking about how much I love you,” I emphasize, knowing Dan hates when I’m cheesy.

He laughs and rolls his eyes, “I love you, too.” He turns back and edits a bit more.

I love when Dan’s in his element. It shows his creativity and passion. I tend to notice small details about him, like the way he bites his lip when he plays the footage to see if it’s up to his standards, when he hums quietly to himself, and especially when he begins to tap his fingers on the desk, which drives me absolutely crazy. Although, I do admit that I find it cute, but would never say it out loud.

There’s a light buzz that goes through the intercom of the apartment, letting us know the Chinese food we ordered has arrived downstairs. I quickly get up to get it, earning a quiet, “Thanks love.”

Once I come back, Dan and Phil have both set up the table with plates and drinks, playfully arguing about some Netflix series we started watching a couple days ago.

I laugh at them, agreeing with what Phil had previously said, to which Dan laughed and told up to shut up.

We sat at our unassigned assigned seats and immediately starting eating. Only five minutes in and we were all of the verge of crying with laughter as we talked about anything new. I had mentioned how there was an insane women on the tube that had insisted someone had tried to steal her phone and went on an absolute rampage to anyone who went near her. Which then lead to Phil assuming she had been keeping some deep secrets to which Dan responded something about some intense fetish and porn. Things only escalated from there on what was on her phone that she thought it was important enough to scream at every person by her.

People seem to think it’s awkward to “third wheel” around, and it can to a certain extent, but with Phil it doesn’t feel like it. He keeps the conversation going between all of us and we all bounce off each other’s jokes.

We finish eating and retreat to separate rooms, Dan and I going to his as we lay down on his bed that’s covered in the infamous squared bedspread.

“I’m so full,” he groans, instantly wrapping his arms around me and slightly laying on top of me.

I laugh and shove him off, “You’re squishing me you damn spork!”

He takes this as a challenge and straddles me, tickling me mercilessly.

“Dan stop! I can’t fucking breathe!” I manage to say, trying to grab his wrists to stop him.

His obnoxious laugh fills the room, my favorite laugh as it shows he’s genuinely happy. “Quit bitching, you love it,” he smirks, stopping and pulling me into his arms again.

This is how our relationship works, harmless insults and playfulness.

“Wow, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re actually thinking real hard, yeah?” he teases, poking my temple.

“At least I’m using my brain for the right reasons, idiot!” I push him away which causes him to hold onto me tighter. “Just thinking ‘bout us if I’m honest.” I respond, blushing that I had gotten caught again.

“Let’s talk about it then, I hope they’re all good things,” he chuckles.

“Just really happy with where we are. Not too serious, y'know? Wouldn’t think that the tall noodle in the back of the Starbucks I worked at would manage to spill his drink on me,” I smirk, remembering how we met in the first place.

He groans, “I apologized and took you out to lunch, would you just forget about it?” His cheeks had gone slightly rosy from embarrassment, thinking about how he tripped over his own legs as I was going out on my break only to be met with mildly hot coffee. I was a bit annoyed but I would never admit that I was perfectly okay with it since he was more than attractive. There were times I considered it an honor, but he didn’t need to know that.

I laugh and pinch his cheeks softly, “Aw, is someone blushing?”

He swats my hands away and pulls me closer than before, kissing my forehead. I manage to wrap my arms around him and we lay there, enjoying each other’s company.

“I love you,” he mumbles into my hair, reaching under my chin to capture my lips in his.

“I love you, too, Dan,” I say, enjoying the pleasant conversation.

“I’m glad that my clumsiness came into play at the right moment. Imagine if I would’ve spilled it on some super serious businessman? I would’ve gotten my ass chewed out,” he chuckles lightly.

I look up at him, his eyes meeting mine. “I know you hate cringe things like this, but you really brought happiness to my life. It used to be a routine, go to work, go home, eat, clean, sleep. That was it. But you took me out that.” I reach to caress his cheek, smiling when he leans into my touch.

“You brought happiness. Phil is cool and all, but I needed that extra person, get me? I’m glad that we have a more intimate connection.” He kisses my forehead again, mumbling about how he loves me.

I cuddle into him and the rest of the evening was just us reminiscing everything we’ve done together, before we ended up watching tv in the living room, Phil happily joining us.

anonymous asked:

If you're taking requests, could you do Carlos going into sensory overload and Jay's the only one to notice and try to help him?


Too much. Too loud noises, too many people, too bright lights, too many distractions, too much, too muchtoomuchtoomuchtoomu-.

“Hey!” A voice shouted from behind him. Carlos clamped his hands harder over his hears, squeezed his eyes tighter. “C? What’s wrong?”

He can’t respond, can’t open his mouth, he can’t even think. His head is pounding and colors are swirling even though his eyes are shut, he can’t stop shaking and twitching.

A strong hand on his shoulder is directing him, pushing Carlos forward. He ought to open his eyes, see where they’re going, but it’s hard to breathe and form thoughts, why is everything so damn loud?

They keep moving, Carlos barely shuffling his feet, until suddenly, the air is cooler, cleaner, not suffocating in perfume and food and sweat.

It takes another second, but the noise is all muffled, more than his hands could ever block out.

“C?” The same voice as before calls, gently moves his hands down. “Carlos, come on. Sit.”

He doesn’t open his eyes yet, just follows where he is pulled until his legs bump something solid, then he crashes onto it. Carlos huddles in on himself, draws his legs up to his chest, hugs his knees. He opens his eyes just the teeniest bit, enough to see that all the colors and lights are gone, replaced by just the faint shine of the moon.

“Hey, I’m not gonna touch you,” Carlos knows that voice, he knows the name and the face, but his head is still spinning too much (toomuchtoomuchtoomuch) for him to fully recognize it, “but I’m here if you…want a hug or something. Uh, here.”

Something is thrusted into Carlos’ hands. It’s soft and warm, some kind of wool. He fidgets with it, twists the fabric, pulls it, stretches it, clenches it in his fist, just to repeat the process.

“You feeling better, pup?”


“Jay?” Carlos opens his eyes further, turns his head to find his friend watching him. “Where are we?”

“The balcony. Party is still raving on the inside.”

Carlos looks forward, sees the moving bodies, the laughter, the strobe lights and disco ball. He immediately turns away and hides his face again.

“You feeling better?” He asks again, scooching closer.

A weak nod, Carlos keeps toying with the object. He looks down and notes that it’s Jay’s beanie he’s been abusing for the past few minutes.

“What happened in there?”

“Too much.”

“Too much what?”


There’s a minute of silence, then, “you kind of freaked out. Like you did at Mal’s howler last year.”

“I did?” Carlos twists his neck to look back at Jay, who’s staring at the party.

“Yeah. You covered your ears and shut your eyes. You were shaking a little bit.”

Carlos hums. “Oh, I guess I did. I think I left?”

Jay laughs, puts an arm around the railing behind them. “Yeah, you bolted.”

“I…I didn’t know how to get out,” Carlos peers at him, slowly puts his legs back down but continues to play with Jay’s beanie. “I was just kind of stuck.”

“Well you’re not stuck anymore.”

“Yeah, thanks to you,” Carlos nudges him a little bit.

Jay sighs. “I’d tell you not to worship me and shower me with endless praise, but I’ll know you’ll do it anyway. So, come on. Tell me how great I am.”

Carlos laughs, really shoves against him. “You’re a dork.”

“That’s hardly endless praise.”

“Quit yapping for a second,” Carlos huffs, breathes deeply. “Thank you for, uh, helping me out back there.”

“No problem, pup,” Jay outstretches his hand, but leaves it between them. Carlos slowly reaches out, places his palm in Jay’s, and intertwines their fingers.

So I’ve never been over-stimulated or went through sensory overload. I’m not sure what it’s like, but I hope I did it justice!

anonymous asked:

how about some good ol fashioned egobang bodyworship or otherwise physical praise? your choice on who is the praiser, who is the praise-ee, and what the circumstances are

It was a lazy day in the office, nearly half of the group working from home and the rest working on whatever they needed to silently. Suzy and Barry were working on things on their computer, Brian was messing around with the keyboard they kept at the office, and Arin was nibbling on snacks as he waited for Dan. It was quiet, the only sounds being the tapping of keyboards and the clicks of mice, and the office was filled with a faint grey light as the sky was unusually overcast for spring, but was welcomed in preparation for summer.

Dan and Arin had decided to do a quick, relaxed recording session to get a headstart on their backlog, as much as the two of them just wanted to take the day off and relax. A bit before they were supposed to start, Dan had told Arin that he’d be in the recording room resting until Arin was ready.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

why do you love roman polak

okay so like lets start with this. he sucks at hockey. like okay he’s not like the worst defenseman in the world but he’s bad. he’s slow, he’s SO slow and now he’s got 13 screws in his leg like, he didn’t get any faster this off season. But he doesn’t care. I mean like i’m sure he wishes he were faster but like, he’s not going to let that stop him. the guy made a decent about of money he could just stop. he’s in pain a lot, he’s got screws in his ankle and says he can feel it going up the stairs. Sure he’s got a high pain threshold but it’s still not comfortable i’d imagine but he’s not done he still wants to do this play in the best league in the world and i like that. I like that he has high aspersions, that he’s not giving up. 

he’s also though as nails. like this guy will play though a lot. he couldn’t play though the broken leg but that’s….about it. he’s taken a puck to the face and came back with stitches, he fucked up his knee a bit came back and played as much as he could. He’s going to do everything he can for his team and he’ll play though pain. which like, that’s not always great, and is pretty dangerous and i don’t know if it’s a style players should adapt but he’s doing it that’s how he’s always played, and I think that’s admirable. he’s physical too, pushing guys around, he’s good for that, he’s not super tall but he’s jacked and he’s going to use that to his advantage. 

which i mean he’s hot as fuck. like maybe not his face. i mean yeah if he has his beard it’s like A+ and i would argue even with out the beard he’s good looking but like more than that he’s just….huge, his shoulders fuck me up like look at him he’s fucking huge. those arms? that chest? those shoulders?

oh and his thighs of course

the man is jacked and i love it. and i knwo it seems superficial but like….that’s a big part of it. he’s hot as fuck. 

also he’s a fucking goofball. like he’s always making dumb as fuck jokes. they asked him about his injury at the end of last season. the guy had a cast on his leg and he’s just like “lower body injury” he made a joke after getting hit in the face with the puck about how he was still eating pizza. he’s so funny and it’s like a dumb sense of humor. also this 

(also peep that amazing body) 

and then, he’s a great guy. Babcock loves him, and you know what kind of guy babcock likes? good guys who work hard. That’s a big reason why I think he got the PTO is he’s a good guy who works hard and they’ll do what they can to get him in the line up. he said when he was injured he felt bad because he was like a third kid for his wife to take care of, that he couldn’t play with his kids. (HE HAS KIDS!! I DIED) Mo told a story about how when he first game to the team he sang karaoke with some of the younger guys, kinda made a joke of himself and laughed at it bc the younger guys were nervous. like he’s just, a good guy. 

He’s a leader, Freddie said he’ll let younger guys know “this is how we do things” like that i think is his value to the team at this point. I think he can be good for guys to look up to see his hard work and see him help them. He’s probably not the most vocal guy in the room but he’s no doubt a leader, when you hear the guys talk about him, they sound like they are talking about a leader. ( team give Roman Hunwick’s ‘A’) (JK give it to Auston) (take Bozak’s and give it to Roman)

TL;DR He’s a good guy, he’s hot, he’s funny and i like his style of play.