#tosses this

[abyssaldesire-archive]

The tears had long stopped falling, wet stains slowly drying upon stretched out sleeves as she stared unseeingly out the window. Miki abandoned her after the first hour, having grown bored with fighting the snowy bat squishmallow that was now wrapped tightly in her arms as if it would offer some form of comfort instead.

[ardentdawn]

It was nothing short a rarity; the Angel’s Share housing minimal patrons. Open seats with only the more typical of denizens scattered amongst the interior. People out in the streets, enjoying the festival or sleeping off the first few days of it. Inventory reflected various bottles void from the shelves, prompting the proprietor to issue more from his own stock thusly replacing the usual bartender.

Back still towards the tavern’s door as to reallocate the selection from a previous patron, ❝ Welcome to the Angel’s Share. ❞ Diluc began, still placing bottles & glasses with utmost care, barely able to cast his glance backwards until settling the cleanup business firstly, ❝ I will be with you in just a moment. ❞

[tuggeriisms]

[text: wifey] pls send me a picture he never shows me any pics! Also meant fiancee. Chan is the boyfriend. [ text: wifey] he'd be fianced too but he need to propose. I aint proposing twice 😤😤😤😤😡😡😡😡

[ text: mama ] i'll try when i get him soke clothes.

[ text: mama ] 😩 i wish i could call chan boyfriend

[goddesstrolls-archive]

> It isn’t often you wander this far into the city. The sights, the sounds, it’s a lot to take in. The sheer amount of substantial life packed into such a small stretch of land is a bit revitalizing, if you’re honest, so that almost balances out the rest. Almost.

> You came this far chasing some spark, something that told you to follow, something you wanted to meet...But it’s gone just as soon as it appeared, and you’re left searching the sea of life in this thronging street in vain.

> You’re getting some looks. You’re not too oddly dressed but the mask is certainly eye-catching. Also because you’re stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and have been standing there for a while, as you search using different senses than most others.

> Fortunately with your mask, they’ll forget what you look like soon after, and most don’t ponder someone like you for more than a few moments anyway.

> Suddenly you reach a decision and turn to a stranger who just happened to be brushing past you.

“Er, excuse me- You wouldn’t happen to know where the train station is, would you?”

[sleptwithdiamond]

@thebiiscuit

       ‘ Steven...buddy, you know I’m immensely proud of you, but I’m gonna be honest.               These past couple years have been hard on this old man. I’m just glad you’re                home and safe. There’s places you go, things you do - I’m never gonna                understand or be a part of that and I get scared at times.                                               I really love you, Steven. ‘

[pervorsitas-a]

//the book arceus gave gira was one of her favorites as a child. it's written in a way she can read it, and it's about a warrior-like god which is really what got her interested in weapons. she wanted to be a righteous warrior goddess too, and she'd always have arceus read the story to her at night before bed.

and then everything went to hell and she's. a questionable fighter with skewed morals but heY

[nihthelm]

@fundinson from x

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He rounded on the elf, eyes narrowed. Dwalin’s patience with the fair folk had ever been of a short nature, much like his temper at large, and something in that voice, which rang out clear and melodious, just seemed to rub him the wrong way.

“Spies aren’t welcome here,” he added, a rumble in his chest. “nor those that advocate them.”

Caranthir raised a quelling hand, tilting his chin in a raptorlike movement to look down at the young dwarven warrior.

“Ikhli, bahith!” he answered, a few words of the bare Khuzdul he had learned long ago, from those trading partners of long standing in Nogrod and Belegost, those great cities which had lain beneath the Ered Luin in his day. Perhaps still did, though as yet he knew not, nor whether he’d be welcome within them even so. The friendship between Casari and Eldar had been, it seemed, forgotten – broken not by the Noldor, by Caranthir’s own folk; but by the Þindar and their damned grasping and thievery.

“I am no spy,” he continued in the clumsily bastardized Adûnaic apparently used as a common tongue in this day, “but merely a traveler who has seen much.”

[etainhomme-blog]

@seafled​ liked for a starter

“I must ask, Neptune, why do you have a detective badge with you?” He raised a single eyebrow at the boy, looking him over and then to the badge that was visible on his outfit.