desert graveyard

epsilonzero-naught  asked:

Rey associates a common physique as half-starved, with no precious fat to be seen. Expecting such, Rey is enthralled upon discovering a healthy layer of chub covering solid muscle on Ren.

For most of her life, Rey is made up of bone and gristle, as all but the luckiest Jakku scavengers are. She begins to put on weight once she leaves the hellish desert and starship graveyards behind her. Her energy level gets higher and she’s able to properly menstruate and she feels so much less cold. Her slow recovery from years of abuse has nothing on the lifetime of proper nutrition and training her rival has.

Kylo Ren is big. He’s not the war machine his grandfather had been in any sense, try as he might, but he’s still very big and healthier than an urchin on Jakku could ever hope to be. The illusion of leanness maintained by layers of long black cloth, once stripped away, reveals that he’s not thickened entirely by muscle as hard as the durasteel helmet he wears. 

No, rather than a body made slim by Ren’s misplaced vanity or the First Order’s strict dietary regimens, there’s a fair amount of fat to complement his muscle.

She gets a glance at him with his shirt off during a raid with the Resistance on one of the First Order’s outposts. He’s slick with sweat and armed with only a practice saber when he steps out of a simulator. They had clearly interrupted him midway through training and he’s exhausted. His wide chest is heaving, and… so is the cushiony-looking bit of belly she didn’t know he had. Rey ogles the slight give to his middle and sides, the tightness around upper part of the pants he wears due to having to stretch around his broad thighs.

She can’t stop thinking about how supple the softest parts of him probably feel long after the raid is over. What she wouldn’t give to knead at the flesh keeping him insulated and safe. It’s a strange mixture of jealousy and admiration that has Rey idly rubbing at the bit of fat that’s begun to form on her own abdomen and trying to picture how his feels.

Pidge, Hunk, Lance, be careful when you play Pokémon Go. I don’t want to find out that you went into graveyards on deserted planets or anything like that.

Is it too late to tell him about last night?

—  Shiro needs to know that they’re safe and Lance asks the others if Shiro should know

Whales in the DESERT: Stunning images reveal graveyard of sea mammals that swam in a long lost ocean 50 million years ago

  • Whale skeletons were first discovered in Wadi al-Hitan, or the Valley of the Whales, in Egypt in 1902
  • The Valley of the Whales was made into a conservation area in the 1980s and is a UNESCO world heritage site
  • The area formed part of the ocean floor of the Tethys Sea 50 million years ago before the continents formed
  • Unique fossilised remains belong to ancestors of modern whales called Archaeoceti have been unearthed here

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Burn My Dread - Spring of Birth ver.
Yumi Kawamura
Burn My Dread - Spring of Birth ver.

Watching the intro of Persona 3 movie. Where all the SEES members are going about their lives; Shinjiro alone in the back alleys, Ken in a deserted graveyard placing flowers at his mother’s tombstone, Akihiko practicing at his boxing club. I just wanna cry because I know all the bad things that are gonna happen to everyone and I just… AND THIS SONG °(ಗдಗ。)°.

Inside the eye of your mind: Chapter 62

Ok my lovelies again sorry for the delay, but the new trailer, the handholding, the caravan of love, one half of the fandom melting into a pool of despair at the thought of everything not being rosy for Rae and Finn is series 2 while the other half are busy having the “Is he fingering her or not” debate has kept me wonderfully distracted from writing.  That as well as the numerous angry letters/job applications I have been filling out for E4.  But finally I made myself write today (particularly for the anon who asked for it, but also because I bribed myself with a malteasers bunny-don’t tell my trainer) Anyway hope you enjoy. As always comments/critcism welcome. xxx

Chapter 62

Keep reading

A Visitor

Summary - Caroline Forbes was sad and alone after her mother died until he came. (AU, no baby plot)

A/N: Just a little angsty drabble I wrote while I couldn’t sleep last night. Hope you enjoy!

She held the flowers in her hands. The petals and leaves shook along with her body as she walked with her weak, aching head held higher than she thought she could manage. But then, she was Caroline Forbes, stronger than anybody gave her credit. Stefan offered to come with her, but it was his fault she had not been there when her mother passed, she did not want him to follow her.

No, that wasn’t why she refused him. It was because it was her own fault for not being there when her wonderful mother took her final breaths. Her fault it had to be Damon there, holding her cold, feeble fingers, because she was too busy making kissy faces at a boy she had since decided was more like a brother than anything else.

Caroline’s nonexistent breath caught halfway out of her mouth, creating a short cloud that stopped before it could properly escape into the freezing air. Her mother was gone. Gone. And all she had were some stupid flowers.

The blond vampire stared at the white things in her hands. Elizabeth Forbes never even liked roses. She hated their scent. Right now, Caroline agreed wholeheartedly.

Crunching broken, brown leaves as she walked further into the deserted graveyard, Caroline held tighter to the thorny flowers, wondering if wherever her mother was she was watching her. She was alone now. Really alone. Her father was gone, now her gentle, kind, supportive mom. All she had were the Scooby Gang, and while she loved each of them, they were not family so much as reluctant acquaintances turned friends.

Hot, thick tears bubbled in Caroline’s eyes. She had not let herself truly cry yet, and as she sucked in a sharp, cold breath, she decided she wasn’t about to start now.

She was strong on her own. A lone wolf. If becoming a vampire had taught her anything, it was that she needed nobody else to fight her battles for her. She was better than Elena that way. Elena always crawled to the Salvatore brothers when things got tough. Switched her emotions off because she couldn’t handle feeling, and not feeling anything was the easy way out. But she was Caroline Forbes. A brave warrior that had overcome quite a bit in her first twenty years. Who had managed to become a fully functioning, healthy vampire with only a small amount of help.

She could make it in this life without attachments.

She was ready now to leave mystic falls. Nothing was keeping her here.

It was a depressing thought, but she had been wallowing in grief for weeks now. Maybe leaving would magnify her sadness for a brief period, but it was what she needed in the long run. She only hoped her friends saw it her way. They were all stuck here, tethered to the Virginian soil by roots they couldn’t see. She had cut herself loose the minute her mother passed. It was time to stretch her legs.

The gravestone was buried deep in the old cemetery. For such a small town, there were a lot of dead people. Caroline crouched down when she reached the one belonging to her mother and gently placed the white roses against the headstone.

She stayed there, motionless and unspeaking, not knowing what to do. In the movies, they always talked to the dead, in the hopes they could hear you. She knew her mother, wherever she may have been, was listening.

“Hi, mom,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I’m, uh, sorry it took so long for me to come see you.”

Caroline nearly laughed. This was ridiculous.

“Mom,” she sighed sadly, a sob rising in her chest. “Oh, mom. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She couldn’t get her voice any louder. It was lodged, it was like a tennis ball had found its way into her mouth. “I wasn’t there,” she said. “I didn’t see you, I didn’t say goodbye. I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“And I’m sorry,” she went on, staring up at the bleak, grey sky, “I’m sorry I didn’t come here before. You have to understand,” she said through the tears. The salty things fell into her mouth. They tasted so bitter. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk in here and see you like this. I wasn’t strong enough–”

Caroline’s voice cut off completely then. She buried her wet, scrunched face in her small hands and allowed a little bit of the sorrow she had barred inside her chest loose. She trembled with sobs, felt tears leaking through her fingers.

“But I’m stronger now,” she said resolutely once the wave passed. Wiping her cheeks with her dark blue cardigan, Caroline smiled sadly. “I’m leaving, mom. There’s nothing here for me anymore. You always said I was better than this town, and I’m starting to think you’re right.”

Caroline didn’t know where she was going. If she would ever come back. She didn’t know if she would be leaving with her entire life packed away, or if she would leave their old house with the memories still inside. Its mortgage was paid off. If she mentioned to one of the guys to look in on it, she could abandon it without a guilty conscience. Pack a small suitcase and finally escape.

“They don’t need me, the others. They’re too busy dealing with their own problems to care about mine. Which is okay,” she said, patting her jean-clad knees. “It’s okay. They’re allowed to not understand. Well, Elena’s apathy has been a little harder to swallow, but I get it. I get it.”

Europe, she decided. She would start with Europe. Ireland. It was closest to the east coast. She would go to Ireland, then slowly make her way around the world.

“I miss you,” she said softly, staring at her mother’s tombstone.

Elizabeth Forbes. What a woman.

Caroline got to her feet, freezing when she saw someone standing in front of the grave opposite the headstone.

Shock ran through her blood, pulling her mouth open. She must have been seeing things.

He couldn’t really be there.

“You–” she started saying, curiosity getting the better of her. But she didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

The figure smiled sadly. It didn’t fit his gorgeous face, sadness. It made him look his age.

Caroline looked him up and down. He wore all black. Typical. He seemed well and fit. Healthy. He glowed in the dismal graveyard like the sun.

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

Klaus Mikaelson, hands clasped behind his back, nodded toward the grave. “I heard,” was all he said.

She didn’t know why - no, she did - his admission made her want to cry, but she found herself blinking smoke from her eyes. “Okay,” she choked, “but why are you here?”

Klaus’s blue eyes were softer than she had ever seen them. There was a kindness and warmth behind them she had noticed a couple of times when he still was trying to make Mystic Falls his own. A warmth she was sure nobody else was allowed to see.

“I’m here to take you away.”