#honeycut

[kittywolfxxx]

monochrome twins Salem and Lemon Patreon Ko-Fi Redbubble Commissions

[utromprincess]

news concepts and sketch tmnt

[stephroars]

Honeycut, Los Angeles.

[prodigalborn-blog]

♡

Send one for party banter    ⸺    ♡ : my muse and yours    ⸺    ACCEPTING !  !

LUDGER  :  You  know  Hawke  ,  we  have  a  lot  in  common  ,  you    & &    I  .

HAWKE  :  [  laughter  ]  Do  we  ,  now  ?  I  would  love  for  you  to  enlighten  me  ,  Inquisitor  .

LUDGER  :  Well  for  starters  ,  you’re  a  hero  ,  I'M  a  hero     ⸺  

HAWKE  :  Debatable  ,  but  ,  continue  .

LUDGER  :     ⸺    We’re  both  exceptionally  attractive  people  ,    & &    lastly  ,  but  not  least  ,  I  think  you  can  agree  that  you    & &    I  would  have  a  BREATHTAKING  TIME  underneath  the  sheets  .  You  ,  with  all  of  your  experience  as  an  elderly  woman    & &    me  ,  with  all  of  my  NATURAL  TALENT  .

HAWKE  :  [  more  laughter  ]  I  don’t  think  you  could  handle  me  in  the  bedroom  ,  Inquisitor  .

LUDGER  :  Is  that  a  challenge  ,  sweetheart  ?

HAWKE  :  Keep  calling  me  sweetheart    & &    it’ll  be  cause  for  a  bloody  nose  ,  then  we  can  match  .

[redemptior]

        There's not enough bravery within him to take another step, the thunder of his beating heart drowns out any echoes of heroism. To fling himself into the great unknown, push the bounds of his own courage and fortitude; it's a way he could only dream of being. If this earth could speak, it would tell strange tales of all the men he'd lost here.

                                                            The Blooming Rose.

Meredith had deposed him to gather the recruits from the brothel; a most unsavory task for a man as inclined towards discomfort as he. Under his breath he speaks.

                   "         MAKER PRESERVE me.."

@honeycut

[hathlostway]

its  around  midnight  and  he’s  too  fucked  to  care  about  turning  off  the  fan  blowing  in  his  face.  the  cool,  damp  air  of  lowtown  feels  good,  the  smell  on  the  other  hand. . .  especially  around  an  apartment  building  is  not  what  he  wants  right  now.  no,  as  is  he  lays  in  the  darkness  of  his  living  room.  the  small  screen  of  his  cellphone  the  only  light  illuminating  his  features.  pupils  blown  still  as  he  comes  down  from  a  high.  a  slight  headache  but  nothing  tylenol  and  caffeine  won’t  fix.

for  the  past  several  hours  he  had  expected  to  go  in  tonight  for  work,  until  he  got  a  call  from  the  other  security  asking  for  a  shift  trade.  in  most  cases  on  such  short  notice  he’d  say  no,  he’s  got  bills  to  pay,  blue  to  buy.  but  that’s  just  it.  he’s  got  a  left  over  half  a  vial  left  over.  he  takes  the  shift  trade.

yet  it  comes  to  Samson’s  surprise  when  his  screen  switches  from  the  youTube  video  he  was  in  the  midst  of  watching.  (  its  a  mash  up.  he  was  watching  mma  fighting  with  full  medieval  armor  and blunt  weapons ;& how  it’s  made  :  jellybeans  and  jawbreakers  )  to  an  incoming  call.

“  Hawke?  “

this  has  him  stare  at  the  screen  for  what  feels  like  a  full  one  minute.  several  thoughts,  quickly  in  a  chain,  pass  through  his  mind.  mostly  WHY  he  can’t  remember  texting  her  for  his  usual.  or  her  him.  he  can’t  remember  any  time  she’s  called  him.  only  him  calling  her.  that  unfortunate  episode  in  his  life.  all  this  happens  in  a span  of  seconds  however.  his  thumb  clumsily  sliding  to  answer,  only  to  clumsily  and  fumbling  to  turn  speaker  on.  he  opens  text  messages  searching  if  he  missed  something.

“  uh,  hello?  “

smooth.

@honeycut   ☎

[asteeledheart]

continued from (x) 

she doesn’t even attempt to hide her wariness, lips drawn into a thin line as her arms fold over her chest. “if you were looking for a resounding endorsement, be full warned you’ll be continually disappointed.” her nose BRIEFLY scrunches at mention of her full name; she doesn’t LIKE when people use it, much less in a situation like this. the last thing she needs is hawke sounding like her MOTHER. 

sidri finally groans quietly, leaning her head back and ROCKING onto her heels. “he’ll be under your guard the entire time, understand? anything happens? it’s on you, hawke. please, i beg of you, don’t make me regret this.” a soft EXHALE. “he looks dreadful, get him some sun,” 

[hereticaal-blog]

There was sand wedged in one too many places, and truthfully? She would have removed her armor hours ago if she wasn’t paranoid that a varghest or a pack of hyenas would attack the camp. A woman of the forests was she, not one of the deserts of western Orlais. 

The day was long and it was nice to be sitting around the fire with people she could trust after the sinister claws of blood magic had tried to make its way into their bones. They had neutralized the threat at the Ritual Tower and now had a plan of action, but it was time to rest, which is how Róisín found herself sitting across the fire from the Champion.

“As a child I could only dream of women with such grandiose titles and power outside of the Chantry,” she began, staring into the flames in quiet contemplation. “It is different being one of those women. I do admire you, you know.”

@honeycut ❤︎’d for a starter