man there are so many things in drafts

Hello? 911? I’d like to report a murder. This man killed me

Four years after TKM, Neil Josten will stand on stage in front of the world and be drafted onto his pro-Exy team. He will be speechless. When he finally comes up with words, he will thank his Fox family for giving him all the chances in this world.

Four years after TKM, Matt Boyd will be sitting on the couch watching the drafts for pro teams and watch Neil Josten stand on stage with his new team jersey. Matt will feel himself swell with pride and happiness. He will cry with pride because four years ago, this boy was 100% sure he was gonna die. He will call Neil and say congratulations and the two will talk for hours about the future and the past and they will both be filled with such incredible hope for so many good things to come.

Four years after TKM, Coach Wymack will sit with Abby and watch with a smile as that loud-mouthed dumbass gets drafted into a pro-team. He will sit, waiting for some salty comment and will sit back with grin like a mad man as Neil thanks him on live television. Abby will cry because her foxes are finally getting what they deserve. Wymack will decide: yes. THIS is what he gets paid for. THIS moment, is all he needs.

Four years after TKM, Coach Hernandez will get a phone call from Neil Josten with two tickets to his first pro-game as a thank you for all he has done. When he goes to the game, he will see just how much Neil has changed and he will be so damn proud of that boy. Neil will see him in the crowd and will raise his helmet in his direction before the game. Hernandez will smile and Neil will too.

Fakiru Week Day 2: Books

Fakiru Week 2016

She awoke to the press of his lips against her jaw.  Her light sigh and the flutter of her long eyelashes against her cheeks drew a low chuckle out of him.

“Hey, idiot.”

With a small hum, she rolled over and instinctively tucked her head beneath his chin.

“Hey,” he said a little louder, reaching up to stroke her neck with his fingertips.  "Come on, now.“


“Mmmyes.”  He made to pull away, but she latched her arms and legs around his shoulders and hips, pinning him to her as she snuggled back into the comfort of soft pillows and warm sheets.  "Ahiru, come on.“


“You’re going to be late.”

“’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Fer what?”

“Class.  It’s Monday, and your students will be waiting.”


And then, with a squawk, she was up, accidentally colliding her foot with Fakir’s shin as she scrambled from their sheets.  Fakir grimaced in pain, massaging the forming bruise on his leg.

After recovering, he contented himself with watching her while she bustled back and forth between the restroom and their bedroom, clothes flying as she grumbled to herself from around her toothbrush.  "I shlept sho latesh!“

Fakir chuckled and let his eyes fall shut.  The sheets still smelled like her hair.


When he opened his eyes again, she was standing beside their bed, an oversized, pale yellow sweater covering her leotard and tights, a scarf wrapped around her neck, her hair piled up into a neat bun (well almost, considering that stubborn lock of hair that jutted straight up on every occasion).

Despite her own tardiness, she took the time to crawl back onto the mattress, leaning down to deposit a light kiss to his lips.  "Today’s the day you find out, huh?“  She reached over him for the nightstand, plucking the gold band from its usual spot beside his own larger one.


“Good luck!”

“Mm.”  He kissed her again—longer.  Deeper.  And then, “You’re late.”


Keep reading

Jack and Eric

So, along with my “Coach” feels, I am having a general emotions about the importance and significance of names in Check, Please.  I may or may not turn these into a whole fic/verse, with fleshed out story and stuff? I guess that depends on how y’all feel about it?


Names are important. Jack has always just been Jack to the Samwell team, because nicknames were never really his thing.

He grew up as Bad Bob’s son, and briefly, he was Zimms, but after the overdose, after Kent and rehab and actually feeling recovered, nicknames didn’t feel right.

So he rejected attempt after attempt to twist and shorten his name, until Shitty gave up and just called him Jack. And it felt good. It felt good to just be Jack for those years, as he settled into his skin, figured out how to be Jack. He liked being Jack, just Jack. He liked how his name sounded announced over the speakers in Faber, chanted by fans and teammates at games or kegsters. He liked how it sounded in a gentle, Georgian drawl.

Now, Jack’s new teammates have picked up Zimmboni, which is admittedly clever, if ridiculous, and Jack is surprisingly okay with it. It feels like acceptance, like a welcome to the team. Like he’ll be able to find a home here, with the Falcs.

And then, there’s the things Bitty calls him now. Honey, and sweetheart, full of fondness and sunshine that makes Jack feel warm and loved. Baby, whispered or gasped into his ear, Bitty’s long fingers cradling his face and one strong arm draped over his shoulder, the hot, silky feel of Bitty’s skin under his fingertips as they rock together. And still, Jack, always said with a soft smile, even when it’s from underneath him, with warm, brown eyes looking up at him full of love, or heat, or sleepy affection.

Jack has never been particularly religious, but nothing has ever sounded so much like a prayer as the way Bitty says his name in the quiet hours between late and early, when the first tendrils of misty grey light are sneaking between the curtains and painting the oversized bed and the blond boy inn it with him with a watery glow. The way those soft, pink lips caress the shape of Jack’s name, full of reverence and adoration, sends sparks of heat and a shiver up his spine. Bitty’s mouth wrapping around those four letters is an almost physical sensation, and it’s the best thing Jack has ever felt.

Names are important, and Jack has never been called so many different things that all mean the same thing. That all mean he’s loved and wanted in so many different ways.

He’s never been so happy to be Jack Zimmermann.


Thinking about names makes Jack think about Bitty. Honestly, most things makes Jack think about the blond, southern man, but. Names are important.

When Eric R. Bittle first arrived at the Haus and into Jack’s life, Jack was in a weird place. The start of his junior year brought with it chatter about his potential choice of teams, and a whole heap of anxiety about drafts and decisions and the need to be the best on the ice. So, he was… less than welcoming.

He kept Bitty at a distance, let his drive to succeed cloud his judgement and deemed the other man lacking before he’d even seen him play. He called him “Bittle,” even after the rest of the boys had shortened his name into an acceptable nickname, tossing “Bitty" around like the welcome it was. He used it, at first, to keep that cool distance, and then, after half a season and regular checking practice brought them to a place where they were friends, he used Bittle because no one else did. He used it the way everyone else used “Bits,” a soft, fond acknowledgement.

And if he occasionally resented how Bitty would smile at the shortened endearment, he could ignore it, because no one else had Bittle; no one but Jack. Eventually, he was able to pull those bright, sunshiny smiles from the boy with his own brand of sentiment, though the first time he called Eric Bitty to his face, graduation day, (and the fact that the first time he’d said it out loud was when Bitty had been hurt, another extreme emotional moment, was not lost on him upon later reflection), the little gasp he’d drawn from Bitty’s lips just before he’d pressed his own against them made him determined to use every version of the other man’s name possible, just to keep that shocked, pleased expression on his face.

Now that they’re together, Jack wants more than almost anything to be able to call his boyfriend soft, warm pet names. But honey, and sweetheart don’t come as easily to his lips as they come to Bitty’s. And he’s half convinced if he started calling him sweetheart, he wouldn’t be able to stop, to keep himself from using it when Bitty comes to games, or they’re hanging out with the team. He wants so badly to wrap Bitty up in the warmth he feels with every drawled honey, and he wants it to be something that’s just theirs the way that Bittle was.

Jack isn’t sure why, but it occurs to him that there’s one thing he’s never called Bitty that no one else does either. Eric. Jack practices saying the name with different tones and inflections, and it’s when the thought of calling Bitty “Eric” when they next speak makes him smile around the sound of it that Jack knows he’s found his sweetheart.

They have a Skype date scheduled, and when it connects and Bitty smiles at him and says “Hi, honey,” in that sweet, warm way he has that settles over Jack’s shoulders like an embrace that Jack can’t help but sigh out a happy “Eric,” that’s full of love and relief and joy for the man smiling at him on the screen.

Eric inhales a little sharply, and his face lights up in that way that makes Jack itch for his camera, for the feel of the flush on Eric’s face under his fingertips. “You- you’ve never called me that before,” Bitty’s voice is thick with emotion, and Jack hopes his intention with the name is obvious, he’s not sure he can explain it.

“Is it alright, Eric,” he laces the name with every bit of warmth and affection he feels, and the flutter of his heart matches the flutter of Bitty’s eyes as he blinks rapidly several times, his hand reaching up to rest over his own heart, which seems to calm Jack’s. It might be the artificial quality the computer imparts, but Jack thinks Bitty’s eyes look shiny, and Jack knows he’s heard the honey in the name.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bitty says through a smile, “I like it just fine the way you say it.”

Names are important, and Jack is sure to slip Eric into conversation whenever he can, especially when they’re with the Wellies, a simple reassurance that Jack is grateful for all Bitty’s given up for him. The first time, it gets a strange look from Shitty and a raised eyebrow from Lardo, Ransom and Holster crow “Eric?” until a sharp look from Lardo and Shitty silences them. The newer kids on the team seem surprised that Bitty has a first name, and are generally too in awe of Jack’s presence to think anything of it.

But Bitty beams. He shines with the same warmth Jack feels when Bitty says his name, and that makes Jack proud in a way only a well played game ever has.

He still use Bitty, of course, and Bits has become a favorite way to tease the other man; a gentle chirp, a way to flirt and sigh his name without being too obvious. But nothing sounds quite so right as Eric. Nothing else carries the weight of Jack’s feelings, the sincerity and absoluteness of his affection, the way it does. 

And the way that Eric feels, rolling off his tongue in a hushed shout while Bitty moans softly around Jack?  It’s enough to make them both forget their own names for a while.

fakebutts  asked:

About the draft, besides needing someone to take care of things at home. It was also women who got to do so, because repopulating after the war was important. One man can impregnate a lot of women at once. And so men are dispensable that way, while women are not. If too many women die in a war the survival of the group you're protecting is at risk. There's been research proving that we have more female ancestors than male ones. A lot of males never have any children and die that way.

in addition to the recent draft ask ^^

thanks for adding x

I think we can all agree having to sign sucks (war sucks too), but surely there are reasons behind it whether we know what they are or not. I would hope so at least.

rboooks  asked:

Oh! can I ease have MarcoAce for the first one of the elf prompts ?

Yes! I was able to squeeze this in before bed! I have so many prompt meme things in the drafts and wanted to get a couple out! (Though I need to work on the requests I have, heh) Hope you enjoy! <3

Blue eyes are staring intently, barely hiding the curiosity lingering as the sitting man holding his interest is trying to clean himself from the grime on his arms that he received by the chains some men had strung him up with. It leaves Ace irritated that he knows where the other, kneeling next to him, is staring with so much focus and tries to keep calm not to snap out. The person hasn’t been around his kind either hardly or never and he is careful with his words.

“It’s obvious that you haven’t met many elves before–or if ever–because you literally cannot stop staring at my ears.” The comment has the human lightly flinch while dragging eyes away and looking a little embarrassed of being so forward. It brings a curl of amusement to Ace as he soon sighs out softly with a small smile lingering. “You can go ahead and touch them if you want.” He sees the human look up in a hopeful manner and to his pointy ears again in curiosity and pure wonder. “Just watch out if they try to flick your hand away.” Ace mentions as he noticed a hand move closer, but it stops and he gives a giggle. “Joking, they don’t move unless I wiggle them.” More chuckles leave him with his body curling in his spot as he sits on the ground still. 

“I won’t if you really don’t want me too, yoi.” The human speaks with his hand lingering up again and watches him intently for the words to either stop or continue. 

“No, you may.” The words have the human nod before carefully sliding fingers along the point of his ear, causing this warmth to linger. “Though, in our custom, caressing another’s ear is considered courting.” Dark eyes watch as the man snaps back and he gives chuckles, receiving a frown. “Oh, that one is truthful, but you are merely a human, so you wouldn’t have known either way.”

“I would not court someone unless I got to know them first.” The man claims while watching for anything else to leave the elf, who snickers in return.

“I guess that is best suited…” Ace mentions before shifting bare feet along the grass and hears a flute playing, recognizing it as Sabo’s melody. “Thank you, for saving me from those poachers.” The words are sincere, shifting to linger up onto a knee and inclining his head to the human.

“It was nothing. They shouldn’t do that to anyone, no matter what their origins are.” The human states while shifting to stand and Ace soon rises as well to stand before the other.

“But as so, you have gained a favor from me that you may use at your own leisure.” Ace tells the other, the melody softening in the background and blue eyes are flickering curiously.


“Or a request, however you want to see it. For saving me from possibly being killed or sold off.” The mentioning has the man looking to ponder and soon views upon him with a smile.

“I would like to be friends with you, yoi.” Hearing such a thing, Ace is surprised with a tilt of his head and seeming like he didn’t hear the other.

Friends? Not a special ability? Ask for immortality? Longer life span? Control elements?” The questions are by people he has heard do and even those poachers tried to get something out of him.

“Yes, friends. I don’t need those other things.” The man comments with a tilt of his head and Ace stares in curiosity of this human being selfless in the act of receiving from an elf.

“Oh, um… I guess we could be? I can’t leave the forest, mainly so we aren’t found out more than what they have already discovered.”

“That’s fine, I live by here, actually. So, walking here is no big deal, yoi.” The man is smiling as Ace looks on a little nervously at the fact this human wants to be friends with him. “My name is Marco.”

“I’m Ace, pleased to be friends with you.” The elf states back and gets a chuckle along with that smile, feeling warmth fill his body.

“I will come by as often as I can in the evenings.”

sound-wxve  asked:

it's me again lmao. again, i'm asking about head canons because i like doing that (oops?) anyway, do you think any of the guys (bokuakakurotsukki) have guilty pleasures that they dont tell each other? weird hobbies, strange fave shows, etc? yeah this question is weird haha

oh hell yes, here we go:

  • Tsukishima is a slut for maraschino cherries. Like oh, just bought a jar? Yep, that shit is gone. You even thought about buying a jar? Metaphorically, that’s gone too 
  • Kuroo is absolutely obsessed with Rupauls Drag Race. He can tell you exactly who threw shade at who and who’s definitely gonna win and he can tell you all his favorite drag queens and their entire backstory
    • He will sing “your makeup is terrible” and “glamazon” if asked
    • He actually gets Bokuto into the show too
  • Akaashi will pretend to hate pet names, but everyone knows he loves it 
    • babe, honey, sweetie, goregoeous- s-shut up! 
  • You can tell exactly where Bokuto has been, because there will be at least four cans of diet coke in his place
  • Kuroo is always moving; tapping his pen, bouncing his leg, drumming his fingers against the table, and it drives Tsukishima absolutely bonkers
  • The biggest weeb of them all is Bokuto
    • once the other three find out, they  pretend to be more into anime than he is, so he doesn’t feel weird at conventions
  • If you introduce Tsukishima to a show, he will bingewatch it in 48 hours or less, and drag Akaashi into the binge-watching hell with him
  • Kuroo writes in a journal  that he keeps hidden between the mattress pads on their bed
  • They go to art shows almost every weekend, because Akaashi loves them so much
  • Bokuto owns a bunch of cute plushies that he keeps hidden in the closet 
  • Tsukishima critiques every book under the sun, but is secretly a fan of gross, sappy romance novels
  • Kuroo collects pez dispensers
    • it started out small; he just kept a small bin beneath his bed of ones he likes
    • but soon bokuto, akaashi, and tsukki would see them in stores, and think of kuroo-  and they all fell way too deep into collecting pez dispensers
    • now they have like four buckets that they don’t know what to do with
  • Tsukishima owns an old polaroid camera, and its his favorite thing ever
    • they have a tackboard full of silly polaroid pictures they’ve taken together

i got headcanons for days, man, stop me 

thanks for the ask!! 

Whispers from Ionia - A Fortune in Misfortune


What?” The Demacian took a swig of his drink. A simple act, but the pause in their conversation somehow managed to boil and freeze Yi’s blood. Death… The word could mean so many things, yet all of them were terrible, “Stop it, Terrius. What do you mean? What death? Who?”

“They seek execute her. Not sure how yet. Hung probably? Maybe a beheading…”

“Wh… Why?” Then the man basically downed the whole mug. All Yi could do was watch,

“Because people are stupid. This whole thing is stupid. I petitioned for exile. That’s what this would usually call for… but every person I’ve ever spoken to doesn’t want that. Everyone who’s seen this case thinks she deserves to die for stealing bread and coin? That’s not justice. That’s just cruel! I serve Demacia for fair justice, not to just execute people under false pretenses and suspicion of magecraft.”

“I…” Yi thought to indulge in his own drink, and his darting eyes between it and the archer might have ceased if he had obliged himself. However, he let the wine be. For the moment he was strong enough, “… I am calm. It is okay. They think she is a mage. This is what you say to me, yes?”

“Yeah, even though it’s clear she isn’t. Annuller investigators have already been and gone because they’re their own damn matter entirely. While they said nothing either way, ‘course they’re not going to waste their time on a damn outsider if she’s going to die anyway, people are quick to cry mage.”

“But why Terrius?”

Why? Do you know how many people saw what you did on that day, Master Yi?

“What I… did..?” That wine once again looked so inviting, “… I am aware there were people who witnessed me take a hold of her that day, if that is what you mean.”

“That one act. All your Wuju, or whatever it is…” Terrius hissed a breath through his teeth, “… is the reason she is being put to death.”

Yi’s gut flew to his throat, but he tried his best to steady his mind as the emerald eyed man spoke on. It was a wasted effort though. His nerves were always so powerful once his reason left him, “But I know that was you and not her, yet everyone saw you and immediately thought her. I let you go, and maybe you would’ve been executed if I had arrested you that day. Instead you walked free, and in your innocence everyone was left to assume it was her who did the magical feats everyone saw. And people want reassurance. They want comfort that there isn’t foreigner mages among us. That leaves us where we are now. She’ll be dead by the end of spring if nothing is done about it…”

And then Terrius sat there, simply waving down someone to get him more alcohol. Finally, Yi felt the tug of his own drink take shape, and he was hard pressed not to gulp some down.

Sour relief. He’d relish that for a time. He could drown his troubles in the red of his wine so easily.

What a weak, foolish man you are, Hui… Said something, somewhere in his mind.

“They think Wuju is a mage work…”

“Even I think Wuju is mage work, Yi. I don’t have any other explanation for what I saw…”

“Your fellow guardsman saw me heal before their eyes!” Yi proclaimed, caring little as he almost spilled his drink upon the table as he slammed it down, “If they must take anyone, then they should take me.”

I know.” Terry shouted back, before the stares of tavern revelers had him reign his voice in, “No one should die for magecraft though. I’m terrified of it, yet even I know better. Demacians shouldn’t in the business of murdering falsely accused mages when there are honest to Gods demons outside our walls. You shouldn’t have to die either, but… I still let you go. It’s lost me my job, no doubt…”

Now what is it you mumble about?”

“My job! My everything. You’ve taken everything from me.” Now it was Terry’s turn to lean forward, and Yi found himself hiding behind his tankard, “There are questions about me too. If I’m a mage sort. If I had anything to do in a conspiracy that doesn’t even exist! Why did I shoot? Why did I let you go?” He slumped back down, audibly cluttering into his seat, “… And I don’t even know the answers to these questions myself. All I know is that I’m… relieved of my duties as of now. All thanks to you, that girl, and my damn twitchy bowfinger.”

“Do you think I will weep for you?” Yi offered in response, voice cold with his monotone. He took another drink to keep his nerves in check, “You are mistaken.”

“I know.” The Demacian sighed, chest seemingly heavy, “But that’s… just the lay of the land right now. I’m kept around because I have connections to you, and as I said all those months ago…” He flourished a hand as if he expected Yi to fill in the blanks. Yi did not obliged him, “… no one speaks her language! Fancy that. But she’s in talking spirits now, even if we don’t know what she’s saying. We don’t even know how to ask her name…”

“So what would you have me do?” The Ionian’s voice had finally settled, and he felt safe behind it’s indifferent barrier. The night was lost to him anyway. Surely he’d drink more than just this, and then he’d forget everything that occurred. But such things were not apparent to the archer, with his conviction bubbling on even as he seemed to be pained by his own position in these events,

“… You want to ask her questions, right?”

“I do.”

“Then we need you. Or… She need you. One of my friends is leading the investigation now, though that doesn’t give me room to do much. But this is what he’ll offer you. You get to ask what you want so long as you ask what they want, alright? Someone has to speak on her behalf, and if it isn’t you then who else is it going to be?”

“As if I have the choice to say no…”

Do you want her to die, Yi?” As much as that simple quip strained his posture and broke his expression, he forced himself to remain quiet. Agitating all the more, the man seemed to tremble with his conviction, “Because I don’t. I shot you. Okay! Be angry about it. Hate me. Hate this whole damn country and hide away with your estranged nobility. You and I both know there isn’t a word I could say that would make you any less bitter, so why even bother with this?”

Yi drank onward in silence, but his companion hardly took pauses for breaths, “But this is beyond you and me, Master Yi. There’s a woman who spends her days in agony because we both messed up. Me, and you. I wanted her off the streets and in prison for her harassment of the people. That’s it. She’s paid a fortune in misfortune for her crimes, and yet they want to kill her without a second thought. You have to work with me now. This is the last time I’ll ever ask you. We can find a way to at least get her out of this country. At the very least she needs a proper punishment for her crimes. We both want the same thing now, right? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?

Silent all the more, Yi chose to take his time as Terry had in finishing his drink. His body somehow expected an instant numbness, but there was nothing then. He was still lucid, and still bombarded with all the thoughts of this terrible situation. In time he grit his teeth, turning his cataract eyes downwards almost instinctively. Why did he feel like crying, all of a sudden? It was a good thing his hair hung thick like a curtain about his face.

“… I do not want her to die.” He said in time, trying to take a deep breath against his crumbling resolve, “You perhaps underestimate the distance I would go to protect this woman. I do not even know her name, and yet I feel well equipped to fight for her.”

“You don’t have to do anything stupid if we work together.” Without looking at the archer, it was almost as if a different person was speaking. His tones were steely and resolute, with the timbre of his accent sounding out with that Demacian flair, “Please trust me. While I won’t ever know the context from your end, I know that for both of our own reasons we don’t want to live with this guilt.”

“Even if us deciding things for this woman already placed her in this position.”

“We’re dumb men. Maybe we’re separated by country, class, and age, but we’re still dumb men.” Yi found himself chuckling at that somehow, even as tears fell into his tankard.

“When is it you will need me?” He asked, and the man’s response reeked of his relief,

As soon as possible. Tomorrow, even.” Terry replied, “Which means… I probably shouldn’t drink much more. You probably shouldn’t either, yeah? I don’t want to push you off your horse like this…”

“It was my choice.” He said, as the ramifications of his choices washed over him with a sickening guilt “And I do not think I am done drinking yet. I certainly cannot return to my home, even after this one drink. The Lady of the House will know what I have done…”

“Lady Buvelle, right?” Without even thinking Yi wrenched his gaze upwards and out of his protective barrier of hair. His face was twisted into some form of melancholic snarl, and it was enough to have the Demacian jump in his seat, “Woah… Okay, uh… Won’t press that button, then. But I think it’d be better if you were less hungover come morning. Do you have a place to stay?”


“Well, it might seem dumb to ask but you’re welcome to stay at my home. It might be easier too. I’m honestly… quite afraid to venture outside of the city proper just to ah… knock on a noblelady’s door. If we’re in the same place come morning, then we can just get it all finished within the early hours.”

To that, all Yi responded with at first was to push his empty tankard out towards the other man, letting his soft tears fall upon the table. After eyeing the quizzical look from Terrius, he sighed and mumbled,

“… If you buy me a few more drinks of this size, then I will have no choice but to stumble home with you.”

And that was just about the last thing the Wuju Bladesman could recall. The guilt of a man was an effective way of opening his coinpurse.

stolen from: @esotericsoldier

  • how many blogs are you following? 345
  • how many drafts do you currently have? Two, I did all the others last night.
  • how do you define a roleplay partner? ( is it how long you’ve been roleplaying with them? how many ships? etc. ) Someone who doesn’t mind when you send them things at 3am about our characters so we can gush together the next time they’re awake; they don’t mind when you go to them and say “hey man, so i totally had this wacky idea for our thread”; sharing songs and analyzing them like “holy shit dude this is totally our babes.” Basically, someone I can talk to openly about our characters and get an equal amount of excitement from.
  • who are some of your favourite partners? @purosdecorazon, @missmishwatson, @vagxry, @angelwithacrossbow, @miraclemechanic, @misterbxtanical, and a hell of a lot more. 
  • which partner do you have the most ships with? how many ships? @missmishwatson hands down. I’ve been writing with her for over three years now and we’ve been in at least five or so fandoms by this point. 
  • are there any partners you used to have ships with and no longer do? Mhm.
  • is there a partner you used to roleplay with, stopped, and recently began again? Not really. If I stop writing with someone, it’s usually because we either got too busy irl or had a major fallout.
  • have you ever met one of your partners in real life? Yes, I met @missmishwatson and we had tacos our first day together! We also got tattoos together and went to the opera house. 
  • do you like getting to know your partners or would you prefer to not form a relationship? why? I like to get to know them both so that we can feel comfortable with one another and because it’s always nice to make new friends. 
  • are you open to new partners? Of course. My IMs and ask are always open and skype / discord are available upon request (non-anon, obviously).

TAGGING: Whoever wants to do the thing.

Sorry I’ve been inactive for the past few days. @kawereen is visiting and we went to a wedding and an event, played DA:I, draw and chat and stuff our faces with food all week (not to mention I had work as well lol). 

So I’ll just leave this draft sketch I’m working on for my new comic. It’ll be a long while before I could release the finished work though, with so many things to do now that I have quite a lot on my plate. But I’m not complaining, definitely not. I need it, or I’ll slip back into depression and lose my love for drawing again, which I do not want to happen now, for the life of me.

Any whosies, I bet @smuttine would be drooling over this piece. I mean, naked Solas, man. Who wouldn’t want that, amirite?  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

ink-powered-moonboots  asked:

Yeah, it is only first draft and it is gonna go through many MANY redrafts and edits :) It's about a young man who thinks he's ruined the lives of his brother, best friend and 'almost girlfriend', so he runs away from it all. He ends up in a hotel full of a variety of people and decides to help them to get over his own problems. The whole plot is hard to describe without explaining the whole thing start to finish, so I'll leave it there :) Thanks your majesty!

I’m intrigued.
That sounds super interesting and I’m sure it’s gonna be so great!!


get to know me and my roleplay partners meme

tagged by: i mean i was included in @wingsandahalo and i like talking about myself so

  • how many blogs are you following? 74
  • how many drafts do you currently have? 14
  • how do you define a roleplay partner? ( is it how long you’ve been roleplaying with them? how many ships? etc. ) my friendo who we talking about our shitty characters doing shitty things. man i would do anything for them and they dont think i’m annoying hopefully because i get so enthusiastic and hopefully they do to?? also any and all ships. doesnt have to be romantic ships either
  • who are some of your favorite partners? rubs hands together @animosities @silentiumxamoris @wingsandahalo @meyerezra @perfectlybeautifulstorm @deadrosesindie and like everyone??
  • which partner do you have the most ships with? how many ships? @silentiumxamoris hands down lol (tech @protagonistics but thats outside of tumblr)
  • are there any partners you used to have ships with and no longer do? ye and it makes me upsetti ;-;
  • is there a partner you used to roleplay with, stopped, and recently began again? not currently 
  • have you ever met one of your partners in real life? I almost did!!
  • would you like to meet any of them? YeSSS
  • do you like getting to know your partners or would you prefer to not form a relationship? why? I loVE talking to people on here and honestly once i get a person’s discord i am like BOOM instafriendship! i love being really close with my rp partners and i lOVE getting to know them. I just love friendship and having new friends to learn about <3 <3 <3
  • are you open to new partners? ALWAYS <3 <3 <3 

also yeah if you wanna do it. than do it


tagged by the wonderful @justfangstvdto

list all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some people to see what they’re working on. this can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever. 

  • water works || kai parker (!!)
  • 25 lives (part 4) || stiles stilinski (!!)
  • two bellamy blake smuts
  • a bunch of bellamy prompt requests
  • a bunch of stiles/mitch prompt requests
  • two murphy prompt requests 
  • the 100 icons (pack)
  • modern (business man) bellamy blake au series (!!)

there are actually so many more things that are in my drafts and docs, but too many to list and some are secrets!

i tag @sarcasticallystilinski @dearestniklaus @joemcalister and anyone else that would like to do it!

  • Me a quarter of the way in of every blog revamping: Oh man, that looks great, everything will be so much easier to find and I'm going to fix every little thing until it's exactly the way I want it, I can't wait to start drafting the bio and filling in descriptions for verses and relationships!
  • Me half way in of every blog revamping: Wtf happened to this code?! Why is this pic looking washed out? Ugh, was I drunk and tried to squeeze about forty years of history into three paragraphs? Shit, my muses knows too many mofos... Nav page? Ha!
Leaving in the Morning

Leaving in the Morning
AU MinKey One Shot
Rating: PG-13 (implied sex and language)

A/N: I have so many fics in my drafts I’m just working up the courage to publish some of them. ;w; 

Key wakes up to him leaving. It’s the same every time they’re together. Every time it happens, the kiss on his hand, the warm scent of coffee before he hears the door close, it hurts a little more. It becomes a little harder for him to ignore. Things that once seemed convenient are now the root of his troubles.

The situation seemed so ideal. He’d have a handsome man in his bed at least once a week but none of the messy time consuming romantics he’d had in the past. That’s what he’d agreed to after that first night of drunken sex now he wanted something more but knew he couldn’t have it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What would they boys reaction be to their friend sleep walking or sleep talking?

I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND US ANSWERING WITH FICS  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Warning: Gladio’s got a potty mouth (language warning)

Sleep-talking snippet also underneath the cut!


Ignis’ eyes flicked up from his novel to see Prompto’s right arm raise in the air peculiarly. The other guys were all asleep on the floor, in a sea of blankets, or so he thought. Prompto stretched and rose to his feet to stand before him.

Eyebrow cocked, Ignis asked, “Trouble sleeping?”

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SUNDAY, JANUARY 17th, 2016

Happy birthday to a longtime personal hero. Muhammad Ali is an inspiration and a role model.

“I ain’t got no quarrel with those Vietcong. They ain’t never called me n*gger”

“Frazier is so ugly that when he cries, the tears turn around and go down the back of his head.”

“I done wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale, only last week I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick. I’m so mean I make medicine sick.”

“I strongly object to the fact that so many newspapers have given the American public and the world the impression that I have only two alternatives in taking this stand [on his draft to fight in Vietnam] – either I go to jail or go to the army. There is another alternative, and that alternative is justice.”

“There are two things that are hard to hit and see. That’s a spooky ghost and Muhammad Ali.”

“There’s not a man alive who can whup me. I’m too fast. I’m too smart. I’m too pretty. I should be a postage stamp. That’s the only way I’ll ever get licked.”

“The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.”

“I’ve seen George Foreman shadow boxing. And the shadow won.”

“He found something to fight for other than money and championship belts. And when that person finds something like that, you can’t hardly beat them.” – George Foreman on Muhammad Ali

No, but seriously, after Sherlock finds out he is John’s Best Friend (capitals intentional), he continuously refers to himself as such, like he has just been knighted by the gods themselves. Like, I bet you that during all the interviews before John’s wedding, he was all like “I’m John’s Best Friend, Sherlock. Don’t fuck up this wedding, because I’m John’s Best Friend.” And at crime scenes he’s like, “This is Dr. Watson, and I’m his Best Friend, Sherlock Holmes”. Like, introducing John first is the most important thing ever (at least until he graduates to “my John”.)

And then, like, there were so many “Best Friends” written in Sherlock’s Best Man speech that Greg had to whittle it down to what’s left. Though Greg never saw the final draft, which is why he seems a little surprised at how much Sherlock reveals at the wedding

At least that’s what I like to think. Because a part of me thinks he takes great pride in saying, “Your Best Friend is sociopath who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. That’s me, by the way, hello” in HLV.

But then I got thinking that he says that line to remind himself that he’s only ever gonna be John’s Best Friend, and to convince John to stay with Mary, because he’s a sociopath, who John chose to be his Best Friend, how foolish.

Wow, I turned this post depressing rather quickly. Sorry =p It really hurts how much Sherlock pines for John in S3. I love pining Sherlock. SLOW BURN…… BURRRRRRRRRN.