anonymous asked:

So I made sandwiches for Turps, and had a lot left over due to my infinite meat farm, thanks to Parvis so here's some of the left overs *hands over 2 plates of sandwiches* (shady-anon)

-she looks at the sandwich with a slight grimace, a tad disgusted by the meat, before pulling on a smile- Well, uh, I’m fine, really. It’s nice of you to think of me, really it is, but I’m fine. 

Why don’t you, uh, try someone else! Sips was just talking about how he wished I kept meat around for sandwiches, he’d just love that!

in motion || open

Movement was in the air tonight.

That was the first thing Miles noticed as he stepped into Ardour. The almost stoicism of the prior evenings events  had been imprinted into his brain and while some of the faces were the same the energy was not. And Miles couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. This place was going to be the death of him. But god the ride was going to be amazing. 

The bodies writhed in time to some song that frenzied and while he was no dancer he found himself tapping his foot in time to beats. A drink. He needed a drink. Maybe then he’d go dance. A charming smile and phone number later sat a Fever and a shot of tequila. Downing the shot with a slight grimace but shining eyes, as he set the glass down he caught sight of a familiar face. The smile that grew across his face was mischievous. “Me and you we need to dance. Like right now.”

hoshiden-parents || continued from here

     “You still think of me as your child even though I chose to stay with my Nohrian family? You’re far too kind, mother…” Kamui murmured, still a bit sheepish from her words. She was truly a generous person, but it was somehow heart-breaking to see that she was quick to berate herself for not being a good mother. What could she do, it was impossible to take him back since he was proclaimed dead for so long. “Is that so… I’m glad that my very existence makes you happy.”

       Decisively bringing her into a gentle embrace instead, his smile faltered and crumbled into a slight grimace. “Thank you for your wishes… mother, I’m so sorry that I can’t act as a proper son. B-But, there’s no need to talk about such sad things. You can try to fill me in on my childhood days– how were they?”


Bruce’s footsteps reverberated throughout the otherwise silent
manor as he made his way down that  
large  corridor to which
led towards a room that housed only a few bookshelves  &&  a
SEEMINGLY normal clock.A quick glance around had told him
that he was ALONE, free to e n t e r the area && approach the


Those were the numbers he had adjusted the object’s frame to
bare,  causing the floor below him to slide open.  Two slim poles
were the only way to enter the BATCAVE, && Bruce wasted no
time in departing. 

Yet once the man was inside,  it  was  apparent that he was not
alone anymore.His son was already uniformed && standing at the
large computer,appearing to have been WAITING on him.With a
slight GRIMACE, Bruce made his way towards the boy. 

Damian, you should be resting at this hour. 

anonymous asked:

Do you keep up with NPoT? Because if so I vote for Akaya x Shiraishi fluff *slinks into the background*

I do! (Just have to catch up with some of the more recent updates tho) XD I loved their match omg I can’t believe Kirihara said Shiraishi’s signature words >.< why doesn’t this ship have a name- i searched for so long, turned out it was unnamed. 

Ah! Nooo, come back anon! -dives into background, searching for anon-

(Totally on hiatus, shhhh I did say unoffically


“…damn it…" 

Kirihara Akaya grit out, ignoring the blood that was slowly dripping down his forehead. Slowly picking himself up, he wiped his face on his sleeve with a slight grimace. 

It had been a few days since their shuffle match and he still hadn’t gotten control over himself yet. Ever since that match, he could not slip back into his Angel Mode. All he had gotten was halfway into Devil Mode; the total opposite of what he wanted. It frustrated him; it frustrated him so damn badly. He now had a chance to improve without losing his mind and the usually frenzied thoughts that he could never get used to- and he couldn’t do it again.

Taking a quick breath, he served another ball, solely concentrated on how it had felt to slip into that calm, tranquil, entirely focused and solely quiet state of mi- 

Kirihara reeled back at the sharp, burning pain from the tennis ball skimming his cheek and leaving a decent sized welt across it. He hissed in pain, hand coming up to touch the bleeding wound when a firm, yet gentle, hand curled around his wrist, preventing him from touching his burning cheek. 

He blinked, raising his eyes to meet admonishing grayish-brown eyes. 


The stern frown aimed his way made him wince sheepishly, adverting his eyes.

“Your cuts can be infected if you just leave him, you should go wash them.” Shiraishi advised, hand still grasping Kirihara’s wrist. 

“Ahh, S-Shiraishi-san. I’ve gotta do this firs-” Kirihara trailed off with a slight gulp. Shiraishi had narrowed his eyes, softly squeezing the wrist in his hand, and continued, “Let’s go clean you up, Kirihara-kun.”

Mutely nodding, not entirely sure if the other was angry or not, and more then a bit confused, Kirihara followed (not that he had another choice, Shiraishi still had his wrist).

The two walked silently to the infirmary, only to find it empty and void of any workers. 

“I guess they’re on lunch break?” Shiraishi mused, guiding the younger male onto a clean bed. He quickly went about raiding the cupboards for medical supplies, dumping a armful onto the bed beside Kirihara. 

Dampening a small cloth with water from a nearby sink, Shiraishi carefully wiped the drying blood off of the other male’s arms, hands and face. With a sigh, he began scolding Kirihara, eyes and hands focused on the task at hand,

“You need to be more careful, Kirihara-kun. Half of these can scar if you don’t take care of them and they get infected. For that matter, why were you still practicing when you have this much injuries?”

Kirihara hissed in pain as a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol was ran gently over one of the many welts on his arms. His eyes firmly directed away from Shiraishi. 

“….” he mumbled, flinching occasionally from the sting of the disinfectant.  Shiraishi waited patiently, wrapping the arms decorated with welts.

“…I wanted….to try and go into Angel Mode." 

"Mm..” The light haired male hummed, finishing off the last length of bandages on the other’s right arm before moving onto the welt on the cheek. Kirihara shifted a little away from the cotton ball dabbing his cheek, the nearest eye squeezed shut, silently grumbling in embarrassment. 

“Don’t force it, Kirihara-kun.” Shiraishi finally spoke, taping a clean patch of bandages onto the younger’s cheek. When Kirihara met his eyes, he continued, crouched down in front and looking up at the other, hands on their shoulders with a grin.

“You’re more than capable of doing it, Akaya." 

Squeezing the younger male.’s shoulders, Shiraishi gave a bright smile, wholly confident that Kirihara would achieve his goal.

It’s just a matter of time. I believe in you.“ 

brainseverywhere-sendbooze asked:


Tonio’s smell?” Tess’ fingers faltered on ivory-colored piano keys. Her technically-proficient rendition of “Für Elise” became… less pleasant to listen to as she fought to think and keep time all at once. (She’d never have her Grandma Esther’s talent.) “Granddad’s garage–the smell of a place belonging to someone who likes to work with their hands, you know? Motor oil and a little bit of gasoline.” She fumbled her way through another few chords, grimacing at the sound and giving her head a slight shake. “Good God. Hang on, I can’t–” 

She’d just found her rhythm by the time she gave in to the urge to add, “Clothes. Not dirty or clean, but the between stage where you just think of ‘fabric smell’ when you hold your shirt up to your nose.”

exemplarisvictoria asked:

“You cannot kill a man like that. If you want to do it right, you aim here, for the jugular.”

“You do realize, Jayce, I’m not exactly aiming to kill people, correct?” Ashe questioned with a slight grimace of a look as he cracks his knuckles. He has, of course, killed plenty of warlocks, demons, and other beings that prey on people, but he’s never actually killed a human per say. “I’m not in the habit of adding my own victim to my work load.”

anonymous asked:

✪ {ripyouxapart, on a different account and too lazy to switch lol}

Send me a ✪ and I will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.

“Have you ever had a coffee so strong you could feel your heartbeat in your eyeballs?” Tara questions Rebekah, looking down into her cup with a slight grimace. No offense to Kol but he made horrible coffee and she was about ninety percent sure that he had spiked it with whisky. Even the vanilla creamer couldn’t save the taste. “Um… you want this?” she offers the cup.

Open | Late Night

It was just for one night she had to endure walking around the cold streets. Most of the places where closed down by now, so the petite blonde had to figure out where to go next. She tried her best just to walk around and look at the many bars and diners. There had to be just one open place where she could spend the next two or three hours before she could take the morning bus home. It was too cold to be outside as she wasn’t really dressed practically. A simple short black dress was hiding underneath her dark blue summer jacket. Emma had been out and about with friends, but the time had slept away from her and she was dealing with the consequences.

“I should just had gone home with that guy…” she said quietly to herself. “But he had a really bad breath.” she said and made a slight grimace of that memory. Emma wasn’t really noticing or looking at the other few passing by. She stopped up, checked her phone where she was, and then asked out.
“Anyone knows a place that’s still open for service? Like coffee and early breakfast?” and maybe some company.

Strings of Gold


“Well, you’re like the poster child for honesty,” Katherine teased playfully pushing his chest, “Lying around you seems a bit…off really…” She was grateful he fixed the door, she never was very good at repairs around the house. And a kicked in door was definitely out of her area of expertise. When he explained that it would be a bad idea to take a break right now, she knew he was right. This would be the worst time to take it too easy. “You’re right…I guess it’s wishful thinking for now. We should at least tell Gepetto…eventually. He’s going to find out either way, and I think he’d prefer if we told him…” Then the thought of Jiminy and Gepetto giving them all sorts of hell popped into her mind, bringing a slight grimace to her face, “Oh…then there’s…that…”

spin-me-a-golden-tale –Response to thread!

“Oh haha, very funny,” Pinocchio rolled his eyes with a small smirk. 

He let out a small sigh though at the mention of ‘wishful thinking’ and couldn’t help but huff quietly. A small smile curved his lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her over to the couch to sit down. “Though, I do think that you should at least sit down for the night; this whole week has been a bit much for you; you’re probably worn out.”

When she had mentioned Jiminy and Gepetto, and the thought of their bold grins and pats on the back absolutely horrified the puppet. He shuddered. “Oui…do we have to, mommy..?” Pinocchio questioned in a playful tone, not helping but to smile as the sentence passed his lips.