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I’m not going to explain myself

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No one

Me, explaining my current favorite characters:

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Does Brian have a Tumblr cuz I wanna tag him.

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http://deviantart.com/whmseik drew and designed the second stage to this fossil fakemon line, and what a joy it is.

Etsy-https://www.etsy.com/shop/Fandancyshop

Patreon-https://www.patreon.com/yeeshastone

Website-http://dndpkmn.com/

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WIP of my DnD characters! Had the fun idea of all of them meeting, they’re all so different! 💚 Oskhar - Lawful Good, Half-Orc, Cleric 💜 Chariot - Chaotic Neutral, Air Genasi/Tiefling, Wizard 💙 Isildur - Neutral, Eladrin Elf (Winter), Rogue

My Chirren 👌🏻I love them all so much!

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川の畔の巨大発電所→詳細 Abandoned giant power plant in river side.

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Barnes and Nobles is gonna start serving food and alcohol.

Everybody’s cracking jokes about how it’s a desperate attempt to stay relevant in the age of Amazon.

But you know what? Props to them. This is exactly what Blockbuster didn’t do. At no point was Blockbuster like “Hey, movie rentals aren’t the lucrative enterprise they once were. Perhaps it’s time we become known for our cheesy garlic bread.”

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I'm deceased to say the least...T~T *sniff* Atsuhina will be my shit forever. Perioddd.

Source: @inawizawki on Twitter💕 Go give them lots of love!!!!!!!

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“This Is Why You’re Always So Tired”

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-You know how we all lose our shit whenever Neil kisses Andrew’s neck? Now imagine Andrew kissing Neil’s neck.

-It happens the first time when they meet each other after a month of being apart cos of their new team schedules.

-Andrew had been like the sharp edge of a glass the whole time, cutting everyone who annoyed him

-Just cos Neil wasn’t there to dull the edges

-Neil on the other hand was obvs a Mess™

-Like he’s anxious most of the time. The only time he feels right is when he’s on the Court or if he’s talking to Andrew

-They both hate the fact how dependent they’ve become on each other. Hate it more than the plague. They know it’s dangerous. Letting someone in. Letting one person know all your secrets. Missing someone. These kind of feelings aren’t for them. Then why can they not stop thinking about how long they’ve not seen or kissed the other?

-Neil knocks on Andrew’s door after that terrible month.

-Andrew is clothed in black and he’s wearing sweats. Some part of Neil’s heart clenches.

-Andrew is shook™ when he sees Neil but obvs he has a reputation to maintain and just asks, “What are you doing here?” I love my little asshole

-And Neil replies, “I’m not even surprised that’s your first question.”

-And he shoulders past Andrew and enters the flat.

-On the TV a rerun of one of Neil’s matches is going on. Andrew switches it off.

-“What’s wrong?”, Andrew asks. He can’t understand why Neil’s here. Can’t believe why someone would come to see him when they’re not invited.

-But Neil is looking at him with his blue eyes.

-And his eyes are so alive Andrew wants to rip them out so that Neil stops looking at him like that

-And Andrew hates the burst of feeling in his chest

-Wants to carve it out of his fucking chest

-And Neil starts walking towards him

-And Andrew is as still as stone

-And Neil’s hands are threading through his hair “Yes or no?” “Yes.”, Andrew replies.

-And then they’re kissing. It wouldn’t matter if the world was burning but the thing is, their world is burning. Burning with everything unsaid and everything they aren’t feeling

-And Andrew breaks the kiss

-He’s not felt this much in so long

-And his head drops down on Neil’s shoulder

-And Neil’s rests against Andrew’s

-Neil’s neck is right there. So Andrew turns his head by a fraction and touches his lips to it

-And Neil just stops

-Cos this is so much more than they had bargained for. This is crossing boundaries and signing treaties. This is Andrew, a man who fought so hard for this nothing, who would burn the world for the man in front of him, even if it destroys him to the very core, kissing his neck. It wasn’t supposed to be this. But it is bliss.

-And Neil breathes out “Again.”

-And Andrew complies.

((send me prompts!!)

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so, touch-starved neil 

- neil’s never had a Good & Soft type of touch in his life before Andrew. any touch he got was bad, so even when he’s surrounded by his family, who are good people, he still doesn’t much consider himself one for touching 

- until he actually starts to experience kind touches

- he lets nicky hug him and it’s actually nice, he doesn’t hate it, and he’s like alright yeah i’m fine with hugs

- he starts participating in casual touches, like high fives with matt or fist bumping dan

- allison ruffles his hair sometimes and he Likes That

-sometimes kevin will give him a nudge and neil knows that means ‘you did well today’ 

- even abby gives him shoulder pats after games as a way of saying good job, and he gets a little thrill from all of them so he’s like, alright, i’m actually okay with touches if it’s from the foxes, right 

- and andrew’s not much for touches, but that’s fine by neil because he loves and respects andrew and wants him to be comfortable

- and he gets plenty of touch from the rest of the team

- and he’s never realized it, probably still doesn’t, but the kid is absolutely touch starved. and he’s like. weirdly craving it now that he can have it

Keep reading

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Will I ever get over this fucking scene?

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in light of recent events involving the Josten Sass™ and its similarities to that of another fan-favourite brown-haired anti-authoritarian protag with an attitude problem, I give you:

the foxhole court, narrated by percy jackson.

“I Am Offered A Foxy Deal”

“I Meet The Worst Kind Of Twin Pun”

“I Get Dragged Into Some Gay Shit”

“My Troubled Past Comes Back To Haunt My Ass” 

“I Strip, But Not In A Fun Way”

“Coach Gets The Gang Together”

“I Have The Worst Night Out, Ever”

“I Get Dragged Into Some Gay Shit, Pt. 2″

“I Become Kevin’s Super Secret Project”

“I Go See A Doctor For The First Time”

“We Kick Serious Jackal Butt, Sort Of”

“I Don’t Want To Be On This Show”

“I Want To Be On This Show”

“We Get A Killer Phone Call”

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here are my dyslexic neil headcanons that nobody asked for but that i had anyway

- Neil doesn’t actually know that he’s dyslexic until he’s 19/20. He was taught literacy from a private tutor who absolutely wouldn’t have kept an eye out for or aided any sort of learning disorder, and who would have been far from patient enough to work with a child with one 

- so instead of learning ways to treat it and make it easier, Neil just learns how to act like it’s not there in order to avoid getting scolded for struggling 

- he’s a smart kid. a really smart kid, actually. but he never really feels smart when he’s trying to chunk through English homework and failing miserably. because he doesn’t know it’s dyslexia–it just feels like he can’t read and it really sucks

- when it comes to short things–signs, texts, labels–he’s fine. even if a letter or word is off, it’s short enough that he can quickly and easily piece together what it means. but books absolutely slaughter Neil. it’s just a wall of text that loses its shape and morphs into a new shape and the words all blend together and he’s just. kill me now.

- but he manages, because he’s neil, and there’s really not much else to do in his spare time. if he can find an audio book, though? you best believe he’d fight another kid over it

- his dyslexia doesn’t have the dyscalculia branch, so Neil puts himself into math. he actually enjoys it, and it’s not hard for him, and it has the least reading. so Neil flourishes in his math classes–not because he’s dumb in every other subject like he feels sometimes, but because it’s the one class where he doesn’t have to work five times as hard as everyone else to succeed 

Keep reading

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But yeah Andrew is the softer one in the relationship:

- This is a part of him he thinks must be in new bloom. The world says rough, the world says weapon, the world says joyless and so there must be some truth to it, right? Yet he finds himself wanting to cradle Neil’s hands to his chest when he needs steadying from a nightmare, have Neil’s bare wrist pressed flush against his ribs so that he can feel their pulses thrumming against one another. And he can’t sleep at night until he’s ran slow, deliberate fingers through Neil’s soft hair, every comb-through an indulgence, fingers massaging Neil’s delicate scalp, learning the structure, the very shape of it. He wants to press his lips to every scab, every contusion, everywhere Neil tore himself apart in hopes of survival. He wants to alleviate and cradle and absorb.  - Neil often ends up kicking his own blankets off of himself at night, and in the winters it drives Andrew absolutely crazy, so he’ll wake up a couple of times in the middle of the night just to fix Neil’s blanket and pull the covers back up over his shoulders to keep him from shivering too much, right before closing his arms down over Neil’s middle like a brace like a ring of fire. - Andrew likes to tease Neil about being clingy, but there are times when it’s difficult to say if there’s something wrong with his system or if being separated from Neil for longer than a few hours at a time has him emptied and aching in more ways than one. One particular evening at Sweetie’s, while watching Neil, Nicky and Kevin engage in some idle conversation he doesn’t remotely care to pay attention to, Andrew subtly tilts his cone in Neil’s direction. Neil regards it a moment before gladly accepting the soft serve and taking a small bite out of it. They share the rest of the cone together. Nicky attempts to tease them about it at one point, but stops mid sentence when he catches Andrew’s murder-glare from his periphery and changes topic. Andrew will never admit it, but once it becomes a quiet, shared ritual; he likes getting a little ice cream on his nose on purpose so that Neil has the urge to kiss it off. Slowly it becomes ok, even in  public. - There are nights when Andrew lets Neil wrap his arms around his stomach and pull him close, his chin on his shoulder, Andrew’s back digging into Neil’s chest. Andrew sleeps better when he can feel Neil’s heart beating against his spine. It leaves him strangely warm and punch-drunk.  - Sometimes in the midst of exploring, Andrew will take Neil’s hands and press them to his own diaphragm over his t-shirt so that Andrew’s breaths can do the speaking for the wordless, happy hum that he’s feeling. He likes Neil’s palm resting there, at the centre of him. - Andrew anchors his fingers in the back collar of Neil’s sweatshirt whenever he feels Neil tense by his side. As soon as Neil’s on edge, all it takes is for Andrew to hook his fingers and give a light tug on his clothes to reground him. Other times he’ll bunch his hand in the hem of Neil’s t-shirt and twist or press a steering hand around the back of his neck, but never to control. Always to guide. Neil will never not be amazed by the impact the slightest contact with Andrew can make on his nervous system. - Andrew strives to smoothen out his hard edges, catches tail ends of hushed conversations where the Foxes relay mutual shock at noticing the incurvated places where Andrew lets himself cave in, allowing himself to be vulnerable, allowing himself to be worshipped. The devotion and unrepentant trust that builds a monolith within him when Neil fiercely defends him. “I don’t need your useless concern,” he’ll mutter. “Too bad because you’ve got it,” Neil will usually reply. “They have to stop preying on you at every given chance. You’re not a monster to me. You shouldn’t be a monster to anyone. If they fail to understand that, they’ll be sorry.” Andrew’s tone is offhanded. “I don’t care about what they think. Nor should you.” Neil just shakes his head. “We’re family. We have to treat each other like one.” The words bite at the crumbs of Andrew’s nonchalant demeanor and he lets his guard down wholeheartedly. It’s an understanding. He and Neil have something that the rest of the world can only dream of, and nobody can take that away from them. - Neil often spends time bare-chested with Andrew so that he can further familiarize himself with the feel of Neil’s lacerated skin and by the time they’re falling asleep, Andrew almost invariably ends up wearing Neil’s oversized hoodie he shed earlier to bed.       - He doesn’t feel particularly gentle, but Neil insists that he is. “You’re always so careful,” Neil’s voice is thick with some unchained emotion, yet conversational as he runs fingers over Andrew’s split knuckles. The night air is humid and dark, rain-heavy clouds blot out the stars. They feel exhausted after a particularly grueling game, like battlefields after war, but the heat of Andrew’s body is lilting and makes Neil feel kind of dreamy. “With me, I mean. Nobody else has ever been that considerate.” Andrew’s blank amber eyes stare back at him, shone like opals in the campus lights reflecting from down below. “It’s not concern,” Neil nods in agreement. “No, it’s not.” Andrew then wordlessly takes their entwined hands and holds them against the side of his jaw, just below his cheek. Neil reacts with an elaboration. “Even though it’s always yes with you, you understand that some days it might be a difficult yes. You don’t touch to feast, you touch to steady. You make me feel safe and like I exist. You go about it like flower picking, if that even makes any sense. Cautious but hot, never incomplete and still somehow leaving me wanting more.” Now Neil’s smiling and nudging Andrew’s foot with his own. Their hands still twined at Andrew’s throat. “It’s really sweet.” Neil expects a comeback, an evasion, an immediate it is not but instead Andrew’s silence is pensive. Neil can feel him swallow against his fingers. The swift bob up and back down. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to.” He finally declares. Neil’s heart enflames as he leans in, close enough to Andrew’s mouth that he can taste his breath on his tongue, an inch keeping from tipping over into a kiss. “And I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t want to. Because I do. I want so much it scares me. Pretty weird, right? Going from being nothing to wanting so much.” They gaze patiently at one another, not kissing, breaths spreading against lips like ripples in a pond. “What if I stopped asking?” Andrew’s voice is barely a whisper, hoarse; afraid almost. “I would like that, but only if you feel comfortable with a decision so big. You don’t have to make it now. Not for me.” Neil replies. Andrew closes his eyes. “Tell me one final time.” Neil traces one of Andrew’s eyelids with a barely-there finger and takes a breath. “Yes. Eternally yes.” Andrew crushes his lips hard against Neil’s: a chemical reaction. The kiss is a languid drink sipped by a man who’d been thirsting for years. The kiss is a game changer and Neil feels it in every single one of his arteries. If such a gesture could be measured, it’d stretch on for eternity. Neil is so thankful when they come apart for air that he’s stunted speechless. Andrew’s expression, once an uprising, now lays its armor down and then, the barest, shortest of burning smiles. Neil thinks he’ll forget how to inflate his lungs. And sitting there, atop their little pocket dimension of a rooftop, with Neil’s face moon-bright and stained red with surprise, Andrew thinks this gentleness will become a bad habit.