parties parties parties

anonymous asked:

Hello ~ How are you doing? I hope you are having a wonderful day or night depending where you live 😊 I wanted to tell you that your art makes my day every time I see it. Keep up the good work! I've recently remembered your modern time Café Au Inuchiyo which reminded me of the last Story Event were Mitsuhide, Mitsunari, Hideyoshi and Inuchiyo acted as waiters in MC's family restaurant. Could you maybe please draw that scene? Thanks in advance 💜

Sorry this took so long anon, I couldn’t remember how this scene went and how to put it into one pic with so many guys. Please Enjoy!! XD 

Tagging: @that-otome-potato @sengokugenkigirl @cavern-of-bells @primarinaonshrooms @amigoingbananas @suzunesays @singokumaiden @miyukilovett @rose-of-yonezawa @quincette @koudaiin

prompt: A Reunion Kiss 
fandom/ship: fma // edwin

This is my first ever FMA fic…i’m ok…i’m not nervous…hi

The tracks shreeked under the train as it rolled into Resembool Station. It had barely come to a halt when Edward was halfway on the platform, tripping over his left leg and only managing to keep his balance because his suitcase was large enough to prevent his fall. 

His insides were about same as steady. To say he was nervous would have been a cruel understatement. Out of all the complex, fascinating and troubling thoughts occupying his mind, one currently outweighed the others and turned him into a scattered mess: his automail was a wreck

Not even the final moments of his departure, now so long ago, or the many phonecalls (where he had wisely refrained from revealing too much about the state of his artifical leg), or the prospect of finally seeing Winry again face to face after all this time could console him about her impending wrath. And then, after that wrath, the Feelings issue lurked. Maybe he preferred the anger. At least that he was familiar with.

All the knowledge he had gained and accumulated and analyzed, all the things he was excited to share had–for now–fled him and left his mind blank. 

Ed was quiet as he walked across the platform and towards the exit. There was no one to greet him. He hadn’t told Winry. 

While she did know he was back in Amestris and on his way back home, he’d preferred to schedule his return on his own time. Besides, he was looking forward to the expression on her face. Happy tears, alright. They were the only tears he wanted to see from her ever again. The only tears he liked.

With every step he took, his automail made a Very Bad sound, and Ed ground his teeth. Not good. Not good at all. It was true that none of the mechanics he’d unavoidably had to consult during his journey had been able to even come close to Winry’s work, but the fact that he had gotten into a … tiny dispute just before getting on the train certainly had not helped matters along. At all. 

From the feel of it, the entire thing could fall to bits and pieces any moment now.

But the Rockbell’s house was approaching on the horizon. 

Despite his fears, pleasant anticipation gripped him.  

He was home. 

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Campaign Prompt:

The party is hired by an old but very wealthy patron to act as guards within a subterranean property that has been in their family for generations.

They are to ensure that nothing within the property is damaged and repel any ne’er-do-wells that make their way in. The patron themselves makes their home in some of the deepest chambers of the structure but makes it very clear that they will be keeping an eye on the party in case they get any ideas of looting the place themselves.

After the second or third attack, the group realises that they have been hired to defend a loot-filled dungeon from adventuring parties. But does that mean their patron actually is malevolent?

There is an anecdote that Lord Stirling at the execution of a British spy was standing near the gallows. The American soldier who was to hang him allowed him a few moments to pray before the spy fell on his knees, and in a voice cried out to God, “Lord, Lord, have mercy on me!”. Lord Stirling, believing this was addressed to him, turned to the man, and said, in a loud voice, “None, you rascal, none!”