#fiightiing

[hardcoreakan]

@fiightiing

 Akan stared into the ring intently, making  note of every muscle movement,   every  punch and thrust.   His pale eyes locked  in hyperfocus  onto  every minute  detail  as he watched  the  fighters  in  the ring.  Every point  they  seemed  to  focus  on  was marked on a  hastily sketched form  in his notebook. It almost reminded him  of his college days in the Frog Pit.

[littlepiistol-archived-blog]

(Camilla: Em, your boyfriends are gross.)

[making-rcpairs-blog]

@fiightiing Wished To Communicate!

    T H E unit emitted a timid beep at the woman, followed by a     slight tilt of his head to the right. H E was curious about her,     and yet he kept his distance. A safety factor for him mostly,     to see if he should run away from the encounter, or stay and     see if he could make a new friend!

    S T I L L, he waited to see which of the two it would be before     he made his choice. A N O T H E R beep came from him, softer     this time... like he was shy.

[sarkisms]

@fiightiing

You got room in your bed for one more again?

[violeteyedkiller]

@fiightiing

  “You know. I think you still owe me a drink.” 

[jenniferxmarlowe-blog]

@fiightiing gets a welcome starter!

                    ❝Hello. WELCOME to WKRP in Cincinnati.❞

Jennifer recognized the woman the MOMENT she stepped in the door, and she rose from her seat at the desk to extend a hand to her. The station had been ABUZZ with activity, in anticipation of her arrival- it was a rare day when indeed someone who was actually SUCCESFUL visited the worst radio station in Cinci.

It was even RARER when they were there for a PROMOTION, instead of there to, for example, SUE the station over something Herb or Les had done, or perhaps to collect the rent.

                    ❝We are just so PLEASED to have you here                      with us, Miss Brass. I’m Jennifer Marlowe,                      I believe we spoke on the PHONE?❞

[rcnaways-blog]

@fiightiing​

   ◐Hands came over the males face, eyes shutting tightly, the world was all to much today- he could only handle so much,-- Posture straightening , the male’s hands moved into his hair smoothing it , his blues looking around - the woman, he had seen glimpses of her, what did she fucking want? Why was she hovering?     ◐ “Back up- “ Rauls strong deep voice shot out at her, the blond ripping off Dakota filthy hoodie tossing it onto the ground, feet quickly moved kicking shoes off, grabbing the pointed black shoes that seemed to be stuffed in the bag Dakota carried around, Raul throwing on a button up that Dakota kept for interviews, “What the fuck do you want?” Fingers wrapped around the stolen gun that hid in the bag,-- a cocky grin came to his lips, “You some fucking drug whore?-” His hand slid out of the bag, a pack of smokes in his fingers..     ◐Teeth tugged out a cancer stick and he lit it soon after, nice shoes tapping on the pavement as he dug under some boxes until he found the holster clipping it on over his shoulders, dropping the pistol in it, and then throwing over the nice suit jacket Dakota had saved up all his money for, “ Sweetcheeks i have things to do what the fuck do you want?”

[floreatetona-a]

@fiightiing liked for a thing

   James had always enjoyed visiting his aunt and uncle and did so as often as he could.  In the past he found that home was a wonderful place to relax or study or visit, and it still was - even as resent events added an increasingly thick layer of, well, stress.

   It was certainly not a very common circumstance - hiring an urchin to be a servant of the house.  But were it not for said urchin pushing James out of the path of a rouge carriage, well, he wouldn’t be sitting alone at the grand piano today now would he?  Besides, argued his aunt, it was the Christian thing to do.  ...it was so long ago, now that he thought of it.  He was a boy when the pauper girl yanked him to safety.  And here a decade later - they were still fast friends.

   Lithe fingers ghost over the piano’s keys in an atttempt to decide what piece to play ( there were so many he loved, you see; very hard to just play one ).  But suddenly his attention shifted to the movement in the corner of his eye - Emily, the urchin savior, bringing him his tea...

     “ Perfect timing, Em.  I’ve yet to decide what piece to play -”

   He offers a smile and blue eyes meet her gaze.

     “ You wouldn’t happen to have a request? ”