#theillegalplayer

[cantusdominus]

[ SOMEONE NIX BROOKLYN STATIC MENTIONED TUMBLR CELEBRITIES HELLO EVERYONE YOUR GOD HAS ARRIVED ]

[daisukenojo-bitou-a-blog]

angelusolus you card

    1. what would you do if you met yourself in a parallel universe where people have wings and the magical ability to talk to frogs?

I would be hella confused but I would also ask what frogs have to say. ...Also I would wanna get flown around by my doppelganger if that were possible

     2. can you read facial cues?

Kind of? I like to think that I can.

     3. favorite disney princess.

I don't know? I kind of like Tiana

     4. if you could visit any planet, which would you choose?

This is gonna sound lame, but I'd like to visit Neptune

     5. can you do any fun accents?

Nope :D

     6. what do you do when you’re bored off your ass?

Tumblr. Watch Markiplier on YouTube.

     7. bacon?

Yes.

     8. if you could choose one fatal disease to contract, which would you choose?

I-I dunno D: Maybe Kuru because that's the only one I can remember D':

     9. cats or giraffes?

Cats all the way yo

     10. what would you do if one day you woke up at the bottom of the mariana trench with the alarming ability to breathe and speak to octopi only?

Stay there as long as I could and make an army of octopus

AND I TAG bleedingflames, theillegalplayer, and shibuyastempo for the questions:

1. What inspired you to start a blog for your character? 2. Some foods that you like? 3. 5 characters you like from ANY fandom 4. Morning bird or night owl? 5. What does the fox say? 6. Got a favorite type of bug? 7. What would you do if you had a time machine? 8. Rocks are cool, y/n? 9. Your chara has a gun what happens? 10. What are four other shows/games/books/ect you like?

[shibuyastempo-blog]

theillegalplayer said: 

{ i have our thing in my drafts and yeah }

((yeye take all the time you want/need honestly u could not reply for 7 months and i would be ok with that because i'v e done that to people before))

[notmyphones]

Maybe this will make life a little bit easier Maybe when things seems hopeless, You'll give me something to hold onto The advice you offer Your boundless knowledge The way you know me better than I do The way you tell me to keep trying Maybe... Maybe it's all worth it after all

[notmyphones]

theillegalplayerのコメント： { wait did i do something wrong i’m sorry i’m s;o bad at this ahajuakehaoa, }

(( NO FRIEND YOU DID EVERYTHING RIGHT. Neck wants to like. Write you his version of a love song. Which is emo poetry. WOW ULTIMATE FLUSTERER TITLE GOES TO YOU))

[egbxrt-blog]

There were monsters about;      you've had enough of these assholes.

Must've been somewhere new for them to have evolved or drastically change in appearance compared to the other imps. At a stance, the Warhammer of Zillyhoo in his grasp before charging not long at them. Then again, it was a bit fun - fighting wasn't something he got to do a lot lately. Nearing the end of the game, from visitng the dead trolls, going through dream bubbles and separating from his best friends for three whole years was a lot and not usually did he get to fight.

You'd think you'd be alone in this world, like most except being inhabited by talking animals but that's become less of a shock - what ends up taking him by surprise is another who had taken out the last of the fiends. John didn't say a word, just sort of gawked at the other in sheer puzzlement.

[theeverbloomingdarkness]

//Drabble: AU. B11

theillegalplayer said: au: it’s 2 am and he’s stuck in an airport because of a hurricane.

//I did the first one I got-- What is it with you guys and airplanes/airports? Short (even though it took over an hour--what) and somewhat bland due to simplicity, but I threw in some things. 

Clear blue skies, the sweet aroma of freshly cut tulips, their buds just beginning to unfold; they flourished due to the fresh water kept in their vase, an antique vase filled just under halfway. It was refilled each day without fail, always fresh, always new. The water inside level lay unseen from the exterior, for it was covered by a smooth surface of white porcelain and the fanciful blue patterns that decorated.

With the afternoon sun glowing through the aged, wooden pane, the tulips would seem to glow with a soft, otherworldly light.

They would sit together at the kitchen table in those ancient wicker chairs, old paint having already begun to chip away at their legs. They would talk for a while; he would say that he was tired from the trip, and that he wanted to rest. She would place a thin hand on his shoulder and and squeeze it softly in reassurance; she would tell him how happy she was to see him, and before he would retire, he would play her a song on the piano, a new song she had never heard before. It had become an unspoken tradition in their home.

That's where he was supposed to be.

However-- He sat at gate B11 in a stiff, cheaply made black-leather chair-- a chair that was not made of real leather. He used his hand as a sort of cradle, holding his heavy head up, while his arm found support from the cold steel of the armrest, and his body from the chair. The airport was nearly deserted.

A few other travelers were as unlucky as he, and they too could do nothing but wait until the hours passed, it could even be a full twenty-four hours--or so they were told. The staff had been gracious enough to provide those trapped in the building with cots, but they were cheap and nearly impossible to fall asleep on.

The young business prodigy had rejected the offering, and instead chose to remain in his seat, staring blankly up at the television screen screwed onto the wall, watching for any and all updates on the weather.

Beyond the cold glass windows to his far right, a storm raged outside. It could not be seen due to the bright light within the building, and the sturdy glass muffled most all of the noise, but they knew it was there.

He checked his pocket, pulling out a sleek, black phone. It read 2:00 A.M.

Tired and bitter, he let it fall back into the crevice of his coat pocket and he sat up straighter in an attempt to liven himself up.

Utter silence. Not a person moved, and all sound that existed was the muffled roar of a storm beyond the glass barrier, and the toneless voice of the newscaster, prattling on about the hurricane currently tearing its way down the coast.

Luckily, he was not traveling through that particular area. But he was, perhaps, just as unlucky, for he was now trapped by a tropical storm. A result of its sudden movement.

All flights had been cancelled, and all travelers had been advised not to drive or attempt to leave the vicinity.

He checked again. 2:02 A.M. He should call her, but she would be asleep now.

Lumaria let out a tired breath, but it was silent to the hollow airport and he crossed his arms, making some sort of move toward comfort. But it would not help much. With the lights on, the sound of the television, and the knowledge of the storm outside, he would not be able to find any comfort or rest in the airport.

She would have waited at the table, patient and ever-calm as the glow of afternoon sun began to fade, and even then she would wait. She would wait and wait. She would have been worried, but eventually she would get up, and push her chair back beneath the table, and she would go to sleep with a heavy heart, hoping that her son did not get caught up in the storm, and that in the morning, he might appear at the table.

She knew he was a busy man, and that he rarely found time for vacationing, but even so, he came to visit. Despite the pressure of returning to additional work, despite the hounding phone calls that kept him up until two in the morning. It made her feel sorry, but she could not bring herself to apologize for being a burden; she was selfish in that respect, but as a mother, she felt her selfishness was justified. Living alone edified that thought.